#it’s probably the only time I’ll write that instant infatuation for them

[juniperhillpatient]

I hate “love at first sight” or like instant infatuation in most cases but I think it’s a trope that CAN be done super well it just rarely is. there’s nothing exciting or interesting about two hot people who see each other & instantly fall in love all by itself nonsensically like idk I just don’t believe in that & find it dull. but there’s a way to do it where it’s like “YEAH that makes perfect sense” like two people who suffered something brief but absolutely insane together & can never let go of the thought of one another or someone who saw someone else do something crazy or really fucking cool or stupid & can’t let it go or someone totally isolated who’s decided to make the first person they’ve interacted with or who helped free them into this total savior who walks on water like it CAN be such a neat trope you just gotta sell it right.

[mysticstrawberryphantom]

Nightmarish Infatuation Part 6, END.

A/N: Hello! IT HAS BEEN AGES. Writer's block, tendonitis, and new jobs will do wonders on you ): Terrible ones lol But! I'm working on old requests and some new ideas too, so hopefully y'all like it. This was fun for me since this is my first fleshed-out yandere story. I really only write fluff. If y'all liked it, I think I'm getting the hang of it! Please do!

Warnings: Gaslighting, manipulation, creepy yandere behavior (It is only for entertainment purposes, I do not condone this behavior), bloody images, light violence, possessiveness.  

Word Count: 6.2k

Part 5:

Hide? Hide?! What did the Joker mean by hide? 

This place essentially an open prison where most rooms were made to be transparent to a large degree. It was all a cruel joke. As if hiding could do much to prevent a gruesome death from Arkahm’s criminally disturbed jester. You knew for a fact that the threat wasn’t just those few high security patients, but all those mafiosos that had been collected with time. 

You were currently in the common room returning a patient after a session with you and Dr Crane. He had gone to his office right after the session while you escorted this patient. As if by clockwork, the moment the other nurse took the patient into the large room, the Joker’s shrill voice rang throughout. The instant he had finished, all the nurses and patients nervously glanced at each other first, and then at the mafiosos. Their response to the nervous gazes was to smirk and run towards the door you were next to. The nurse and patient near you were shoved, but you were gripped and dragged with a group of them for a few seconds.

-”N-no! What are you doing!!” Your voice croaked. 

-”Taking ya ta safety.” One began while opening the door to the stairs. 

-” Boss’ll kill us if some ting would happen ta ya.” The other ended. 

-” Boss?” Your curiosity and concern arouse. -” Then take the patients and nurses with us too!”

The broken off group of five men chuckled as the all made their way down the asylum. 

-”We only gettin paid ta babysit one person.” 

-”Well don’t! Just tell me where you’re taking me, and I’ll take them with me.” 

-”No can do, miss.” They shrugged while switching hands so they could open the door to a new hall. 

You were being carried by two men grasping your forearms and lifting you above the ground, like a toddler. 

-”Let me go!!” You howled dramatically while kicking around. 

-”Geez, lady! We’re saving you, stop it!” One of the grunts grabbed your feet. 

-”Oh, taking me to your ‘boss’ is saving me?? Yeah, right!”

-” Who said we-”

-”Where else would you-” You glared. -”Tell Joker I’d rather die out here than in there.”

-”He isn’t-

Bullets rang through out the hall. The massacre had begun. 

The mafiosos instantly dropped to the ground, loosening their grip on you. So you did the insensible thing and kicked one in the head before sprinting away while the sound of bullets hitting thick glass and concrete could still be heard. The grunts didn’t go after you. It wasn’t the sharp thing to do while bullets ricocheted. Not to mention you were running towards the sound of the deadly machine. You were probably going to die soon and there wasn’t much they could do about it. 

As you ran down the hall, ducking your head and picking up a metal trash bin as protection, your eyes scanned to check which floor you were on. 

Seven.

Two below where you were originally, six below the offices, and three above the high-level security criminals. 

Two floors away from the patients and nurses, six away from Dr Crane, and three away from the Joker and crew. This speculation was in all likelihood mostly wrong. Who knew if Jonathan had actually made it into his office before the chaos, and if he still had headed that way after the announcement. Who knew if the Joker had already gotten out of his cell when he made that announcement, or if the other criminals had as well. 

The pouring of bullets had ceased as you had paused to think. With shaky breath, you crept close to the wall and continued in the same direction. Not because you were stupid, but because floor seven housed patients as well. The type that are on their way to being criminally disturbed, but hadn’t quite reached that milestone yet. In part, you didn’t want them getting guns and figuring out if that lifestyle was for them. 

As you continued to cautiously creep, you could hear some mumbling and shuffling. The voice sounded frustrated. The shuffling tellingly sounded like bodies being dragged around with a large object following suit.

Gulping, you reached the corner where you could easily peek since it was now the resident hall. The thick glass windows for the rooms reflected the other thick glass, so thankfully you didn’t need to stick your whole neck out there.

-”Fit…. Hats… Go in… No?... ” 

You could pick up a few words from the mumbling, short man that was trying so hard to place top hats on all the now knocked-out mafiosos on the floor. It seemed like the heavy gun in his right hand was made to expel a gas and not bullets, which explained the lack of blood for all the downed bodies. Although, the bodies did exhibit huge cists in their faces and overall skin above their abdomen. 

-” It’s worked before!” The mumbling became audible whining. -” Oh, why, oh why won’t this work!? I finally found guests for my tea party but their brains won’t respond. That Cheshire Cat lied to me!” It seethed. -” This isn’t sleeping gas, it’s killing gas!” 

The inmate the small man was handling was suddenly flung to the ground with force, knocking off a frilly, drastically colored top hat off of its now severely bruised skull. 

-” No, no, no. This is all wrong, all wrong! It’s inside out, and outside in, and upside down- all wrong, wrong, wrong!” This voice became more manic as its owner surveyed all the men laying around him. His shoulders tensed up, both fists curled up fiercely before he stomped on a hand to see if there was a reaction. 

There was none. 

-” Dr. Tetch!” You intervened before it got any more violent. -” Dr. Tetch.” You called in a softer voice with a shaky smile. 

The short man twirled around with a spring in his step, dropping the gun he had. 

-” Why, if it isn’t you! .. … .. Alice?” His face scrunched at the end in confusion. 

It had been many months since you had seen each other. Last time he had seen you, he had asked if you were Alice, and if you weren’t, if you could become Alice. The Warden soon banned you and you two never spoke again until today.

Breathing in heavily, you shook your head, carefully of your next response. -” My name is Y/N L/N, remember? I’m not Alice. I don’t look like her.” You smiled kindly. 

The previously accredited Doctor hummed while he thought about your statement, tapping his right foot sometimes on the ground and other times on the previously stomped hand. 

-” So.. … you’re, Not Alice? Peculiar choice, but who am I to judge. We are all mad here anyways!” He beamed. -” Do you perhaps know where Alice went?” 

Shaking your head you motioned for him to come to you. -” Not yet. Let’s look around together. There’s a lot of chaos right now, like when the Red Queen first released the Jabberwock.” 

-”Nasty creature.” He shook his head as he listened. 

-”So we need to help all the people to safety from the cards with guns.” 

He nodded knowingly. -”I see. My tea party must wait. I should help Not Alice with her people while looking for Alice before the next party.” His eyes then trailed back to the large gun he had dropped. 

-"Uhm, how about we leave Cheshire Cat's gun behind? It sounds like he pranked you."  You cautiously patted his arm, motioning him to move away from it. "W-what does Cheshire look like?" You asked as you both walked away slowly. 

-"He always smirks with his long smile. Laughs even if the joke isn't funny. His green hair makes him look awful." 

Dr. Tetch seemed to become perturbed as before, fists clenched, shoulder shaking as he spoke about who you assumed was the Joker. 

-"What other creatures from Wonderland have you met here?" Was the attempt you gave to deviate the conversation.

-"Not many." He pouted. -"Only the undesirable cretins. For example, did you know the caterpillar lives here?"

-"No way!" You encouraged.

-"Yes, Not Alice, yes! He wears a burlap sack as a mask and attempts to scare all those who look at him."

-"That. …. Doesn't sound very like the caterpillar. You sure that's him?"

-"Nooo, no. It is him. He's always exuding smoke, so much smoke he looks different after it."

-"I see... …" Your nose scrunched up while your mind shifted gears. You had no idea who he was talking about. There was no criminal that matched that description in the asylum.

As both of you made it to the stairs you looked around to find the hallway empty. That seemed wrong. How could you two not have seen anyone? These patients were usually in their rooms during this time of day, but all the rooms were empty. You pondered for a second before opening the door to the staircase.

-"Let's go upstairs, Dr Tetch. We didn't find anyone that needs help here, so let's see if they're up there."

-"But I'm not allowed there." He smiled mischievously at you.

You snorted out a chuckle; as if the Hatter cared about following the rules. 

-"It's okay, you're with me." Your head nodded forward and the two of you trekked two flights of stairs before stopping at the sound of voices speaking. 

Shushing the small man, you opened the door and motioned for him to follow you carefully. Crawling on your knees you could hear some of the mafiosos sharing good laughter and not-so-good drinks. 

Pausing, you decided that your unlikely pair should go around them.

And so you did.

Which was a mistake. 

Clown-masked gunmen roared with laughter when they saw your pathetic attempts to creep around the asylum. While they laughed, you yanked Jervis Tetch off the crouching position and ran towards the staircase, knocking over hallway furniture in hopes it would do something. 

It did.

It caused more laughter.

 Which brought more attention towards the two of you. As you two ran, you could hear the heavy footsteps from the mafiosos closing in from the other side.

A few bullets were shot as a warning from the left, the direction of the clowns. 

Another round was shot from the right, from the mafiosos, this time sounding closer. 

Cursing under your breath, you harshly pulled the short Doctor to your side, hoping he'd run faster. 

And then, you tripped.

It wasn't because you were clumsy. It was because they had caught up to you and had shot at your feet. The trash bin next to your feet was now disfigured. 

-"Where you going, honey?" The tallest clown purred as a group of them closed in in you two.

-"Wit us, ya nasty clown." A mafioso spat as another shot at their feet. 

-"Don't think so." The same clown spoke with animosity as they all raised their guns. 

Your head jerked around. You two were about to be caught in the crossfire. It was almost like those scenes in those Western movies, where the gun was the law. 

They were about to settle these disagreements for good. 

All you could do would hope that the small corner that dipped around a column to your right was a big enough shield for the two of you. 

Eyes squeezing shut, you threw your body weight on Jervis, hoping it pushed him far into the corner enough with you away from the gun fire. He yelped when his back hit the corner wall, bewildered by your sudden violent action towards him. 

-"Stay down!" You yell, hoping your voice could be heard over the bullets hitting the walls around the two of you. Your eyes shot open to see a scared Mad Hatter, his glistening eyes resembling a child's. 

Suddenly, long shadows formed over his face. You felt something was suddenly growing behind you. 

-"Cacti!" Dr Tetch exclaimed softly, with an innocent, yet confused smile. 

You didn't move until the gunfire finished and the thugs' footsteps sounded far away. Slowly, you twisted your body to face the thick wall of succulents. 

-"Dr. Isley." You breathed out with relief and gratitude.  

-"Who else, Y/N." Her voice softly trailed into your ears as the succulents receded and bullets fell on the floor. You could hear her smiling coyly. 

-"Thank you so much." Your voice choked up at the end. In turn, the woman in green blushed a little while dismissing your gratitude.

-"Why are you being so reckless, Y/N??" She demanded. -"You should be hiding like the rest of the staff."

-"Uhm, I just wanted to hide with the patients.. … make sure they were hidden well before I did so." Your eyes evaded hers. -"I was also hoping to find Dr. Crane."

Ivy snorted in response. -"You do love to multitask." She helped both of you up while avoiding all the downed bodies at her feet. -"Well, I don't think you'll find him in this wing or building." Ivy offered almost sarcastically, almost insinuating something you didn't understand. -"He's most certainly somewhere else at a time like this. So!" She clapped her hands. -"You need to hide. Now."

Suddenly, Jervis and yourself were shoved into the nearest room.

-"Either I or someone from the law will come to get you when this mess is finished." She placed her hands on her hips in a powerful way. -"And don't even think of leaving this room, my lovelies will let me know if you so much as open the door. And if you do, I'll kick your-"

-"Oh! The flower princess!" Mad Hatter exclaimed while grabbing one of Ivy's vines. 

You gently took his hand away from the plant and smiled. -"We won't." You now smiled at her. -"Thank you so much again for taking care of us, Doctor Isley." 

Dr Tetch gripped your hand after you lowered his away, and happily swung it around lightly. 

Your free arm went around Ivy's right shoulder as it pulled her into a hug. 

-"Thank you." You whispered shakily with many different emotions. -"I owe you my life, thank you for being so kind." 

Ivy hesitantly patted your back, embarrassed by all of this show of gratitude and love. In her mind, she didn't understand why she had even bothered to help you before reaching the greenhouse to see how her plants were doing. I mean, you were on the way there and the plants were telling her they were fine at the moment. … …

And yet, the moment Ivy had seen you throw yourself over the Hatter to protect a disturbed serial killer who had almost no chance of coming back to reality- her heart wrenched in compassion. 

Pamela Isley realized that there truly were very few people that were genuine. 

Intentions as transparent as a plant's need for sun. 

So she stayed. 

She protected the both of you, even if she didn't care for the Mad Hatter. She saved your life because she knew you'd do the same for her without a second thought, but unlike her, you wouldn't wonder why you did it. 

Ivy broke the hug while giving a smile you had never seen adorn her face. She didn't say anything but kept that smile as she closed the door and walked away. 

Sighing in relief, you surveyed the room quickly until you saw a place to hide. You gently moved the Hatter towards the said area, motioning him onto the floor next to you so he could rest, which he obediently did enthusiastically. 

Your eyes delicately studied Jervis, who calmly but happily sat next to you, grasping your hand still. The two are hidden in a medium security therapy room, behind a sofa, the only protection the room could offer you two. The Mad Hatter was practically snuggled up to you- leaving you to wonder what was the difference between him and a child at that moment. 

As you sat together in silence, your mind wandered. Although you knew he was harmless at the moment, how long would that moment last? Despite your empathetic, platonic feelings of almost love for the patient, you worried you had made a mistake. 

Had you made the correct decision of staying by his side? Why couldn't you just leave him in the room alone? 

Why?

Because he wouldn't stay put and get hurt. Or worse-

He'd hurt many of the other helpless patients. 

Perhaps that's why you stubbornly stayed with him, for the sake of others. 

You held his hand tightly so he wouldn't leave your side, because by your side you had a higher chance of controlling him.  

-"Ms. Not Alice?" Jervis called out to you, a pout formulated in his voice. 

-"Yes, Dr. Tetch?"

-"Th - thank you for staying with me. The Cheshire Cat truly made a mess of things.. ..  He ruined my tea party!! Oh, what an awful wench." He seethed. -"But at least you're here with me, Not Alice. You know, you're just as nice as my Alice. You help me miss her less."  

-"I'm. … . I'm glad to hear that." You softly smiled. -"Why don't you rest? You'll need all of your energy before the next tea party." 

-"You most certainly are correct, Not Alice. I will sleep now for the sake of my next party. You should do the same. The princess of the flowers said she would keep us safe, so don't worry." 

You fell asleep against better judgment. 

That mistake cost you greatly. 

Not soon after you had begun dreaming the door was busted open with an almost deafening slam. A tall, almost languid man stood in the center of a few mafiosos who were wearing haze masks. He wore a burlap mask that resembled a scarecrow over his entire face and neck, looking out of place with his grey suit. 

-"Take her, leave him to me." The voice growled and gurgled. He had made his way over to Dr. Tetch who was losing any composure he had gained while with you. 

-"No! Don't take, Not Alice! You can't, you can't!!" He jumped up, stomping. 

The lean man slapped him across the face with the back of his hand. Before the Mad Hatter could fall, his collar was clasped with both hands of his assailant, and gas was dispensed from one of the wrists. 

Jervis was then let go, and he fell to the ground coughing, despair written all over his face. 

-"What did you do to him?!" You squealed as the mafiosos dragged your squirming body towards the door. -"Leave him alone!!" You barked. 

That seemed to hit a nerve with the burlap man. His right hand twitched while his shoulders tensed up. His eyes narrowed on you and then glared at the Hatter. Scoffing with distaste, he kicked the downed criminal in the stomach. 

-"Worry only about yourself." He spat as he sped towards you. -"Worry only about those who actually matter." He said softly while stopping and inspecting your face. A hand then lightly rested on your chin while another on the nape of your neck. 

And then a clicking sound resonated by your ears right before a hiss. A small cloud of smoke appeared in your vision momentarily before you became dizzy. 

-"I'll keep you safe." A distorted, rumbling voice said near your right ear before you felt yourself begin to slip from consciousness.

You shook your head, you didn't want to let him win at whatever game he was playing at. However, the worst images began to plague your mind. Your body began to quiver, your breath refusing to stay rhythmic and constant. Even the room seemed to tremble. Empathetically it shook every time you heard your mother call out your name, or whenever her voice called out your sibling's names. 

You swore the men who were once beside you were now two young kids. Two young kids who looked like you.

The only difference was that you didn't have blood oozing out of your mouth like them. 

You wanted to vomit. 

And then you heard a different voice. 

"Is the world falling apart or just your mind? Are you scared? Embrace it." The distorted words taunted you. 

You closed your eyes. You had seen enough. 

"Open those eyes." This voice seethes. - "Look around you. These are the broken fragments of your mind!" 

You threw your head around and squeezed your eyes shut even harder. 

"You're fighting back? Interesting. Well, that's quite fine. That means your resolve will end up being destroyed in the end when you see you cannot escape this." 

A hand traced your features tenderly. Confused, you stopped wriggly around. 

"You've always buried your fears, locked them away deep in your subconscious. Hidden. But something is gnawing away in the darkness of your mind, isn't it? Something even you can't control." 

The tracing stopped. The world, though it continued to hammer fear into your head, seemed to calm down. 

-"You're healing." The distorted voice breathed happily into your ear. -"You're evolving, and I'll be here to help you through it." 

A kiss.

A tender kiss was placed behind your ear. 

Your eyes shot open while your head jerked to the side. It was met with an index finger that waved centimeters from your nose. 

Tutting, the burlap man took out a black feather from his suit pocket and traced it along your jawline. 

-"Time for you to rest."

You woke up in a cold, large room. It resembled a lab, like the makeshift ones you had in high school. Little to no light poured through the two windows that resided to the right. You realized it was a basement room upon closer inspection of the windows which were locked and shielded with metal bars. 

You also realized that your hair was being loosely stroked while your head rested on a lap. You turned your head so it faced the ceiling, and later Jonathan Crane's peeking face. 

-"I'm so glad you're finally awake, Y/N." He affectionately hummed. -"I was worried they had been too rough with you."

-"They?" You huffed as you sat up slowly. 

-"The Scarecrow's goons, and Scarecrow himself. That gas knocked you out for hours, he used too much. I think the Hatter upset him."

-"How do you know all that?"

He cocked his head gently to the left while nudging yours to follow. You then saw a whole wall of screens that led to many of the halls and rooms of the asylum. 

-"Oh. .. .. how long have you been here?" 

-"Not sure, all I know is longer than you. But I'm glad, I was so worried about you, Y/N." Crane's face nuzzled into your neck as he spoke. 

You flinched.

Not as his touch, but at how calm he was. 

-"Jonathan, I don't think this is the time- We don't know if we're safe here or why we're even here." Your hands gently pushed him away. 

Almost pouting, Crane sighed heavily. -"We're safe here. I don't think Scarecrow will come back any time soon. He .. … is probably out there experimenting on goons or patients or staff."

Your eyebrows furled, taken aback that your boyfriend seemed to be close to such a creep. 

-"Why or how do you know this?" You asked, almost accusingly. 

-"He used to be a patient of mine here at the asylum. He, of course, continues to escape and go rampant in Gotham." Jonathan carefully placed his hand over yours and caressed your knuckles with his thumb.

-"I didn't know he was institutionalized here.. … then again, I really haven't heard of him at all." 

Dr Crane's hand twitched. 

He was bothered. Not only that, offended by your comment. 

-"Anyhow, we should be safe here. The Scarecrow went to fetch you at my behest; my pleading. He threw me in here, thinking it would be a waste if I died. Thankfully, I convinced him that it would be the same if we left you out there."

-"Why didn't he save Dr Tetch as well?" 

This time his hand squeezed yours for a second, reacting to your words. 

-"T-the real question is why were you out there taking care of him? That was incredibly reckless and, forgive me, stupid. He- He could've killed you!" 

-"Dr. Tetch wouldn't, not even a fly!"

-"Oh, like those mafiosos? Please."

-"Those were on accident."

The psychiatrist scoffed, completely annoyed. 

-"Look, he's not a bad person, just disturbed. And I knew the risks perfectly well, but I couldn't just leave him there, someone had to take care of him! He's like a child, he needed me."

-"Hah." The lean man scoffed again while letting go of your hand. -"He's not worth your time, affection, or worry." Crane reprimanded you, his voice practically whining. 

-"What do you mean? Everyone deserves to be cared for. I don't see why-"

-"Why?" He chuckled dryly, no hint of actual humor seen. -"Because you have me."

-"I don't understand."

-"I give you all my care. Only you. You only need to care for me too, sweetheart."

-"Are you- .. … jealous of Jervis Tetch right now??" 

Doctor Crane slowly reached for his glasses, as if hesitant about the consequences. Once he removed them, his eyes ardently pierced through your soul and mental barriers. His icy blue eyes intensely read your eyes before his lips parted. 

-"You're mine, Y/N, and I don't want to share." He stated cooly. 

Your brain pulsated. It felt too big for your skull the moment it heard Jonathan speak. It received and knew the words he had freely given you, but it did not understand. Your first instinct was to fight back and contradict those awful words. Part of you hoped that you'd find holes in that sentence and he'd take it back. Clarify and change. 

You just didn't want them to be true. 

-"And you're okay with what happened with Scarecrow? All the touching and kissing??"

That caught him off guard. Dr. Crane pondered for a moment, he looked so uncharacteristically calm. 

-"He was helping you." Was all he commented in a matter of fact manner. 

-"What?!?" 

Nodding, he gently took your hand again, caressing it as he spoke. 

-"Yes. I've noticed it for a while Y/N, but you're afraid of intimacy, and I don't mean just the romantic kind. You're afraid of letting people in too deep, of mutual attachment. The Scarecrow, he… … he's an expert in fear. He knows how to cure you!" 

His eyes slowly became more and more expressive, to the point of mania. You tried yanking your hand away, he didn't let you. 

-"I know this is out of your comfort zone, scary even."

-"You think??! Jonathan, you-"

You couldn't finish your sentence due to the feeling of hard pressure around your upper body. Arms squeezed the nape of your neck and mid-back. 

-"I promised I'd protect you, Y/N. Your well-being is my top priority. Please know I'm doing all of this for you because you matter so much to me." 

And then a kiss behind your ear.

Pressed tenderly near the lobe.  

It became hard to gulp, your stomach dropped faster than a rock being flung, and your chest felt heavy.

Was this feeling Deja Vu?

 Or realization.

-"I'll always take care of you, Y/N. You won't need anyone else anymore, ever. No one will hurt you or leave you. We'll even die together someday, so neither of us need to mourn for the other."

It was realization. 

-"Jonathan?" Your voice came out icy and heavy. -"Let me go." 

-"What do you m-mean?" His voice had a mixture of confusion, offense, and funny enough, some fear. 

-"I said let go." You pushed this time. 

He reluctantly did as you ordered. 

-"Y/N, you know that I love you so much, right?" He pleaded with his voice, but his eyes exhibited vexation. 

-"You don't love me, Jonathan. Not you nor 'Scarecrow'."

-"What are you saying." He spat, cocking his neck to the left.  

-"You, Jonathan Crane, also known as Scarecrow, do not love me." You stood up, fists curled, eyes starting to sting.

-” DON’T. D-don’t! … … Don’t say that, Y/N.” His whole body quivered in anger, eyes wide open full of a crazed emotion. His body slowly got up, hands using his knees as an aid to stand straight. -”I-I love you, I do.” 

-”You’re delusional, this isn’t love and you don’t actually love me! You're just obsessed with fear and- and I probably was just another experiment to you!” Towards the end of your now yelling, tears were pouring down your face. A heavy chest heaved as it began to gasp for air through hiccups. 

-”I said stop!!” Jonathan launched himself at you, his right hand clenching your jaw, while the other held your arm fast, his body weight and grip pushing you against the window seal. 

-"I did all of this to help you," The madman cried. -"You faced your fears with me, because of me. I spent hours studying you and why you didn't want to let anyone in. Helped you become vulnerable again, let you feel fear again. Actual fear. You'd never be a complete person without me."

His warm breath fell radically on your face. Both of you waited while tears dried on both of your eyes. 

And yet you felt no sympathy for the crazed psychiatrist. Just loathing. Hurt of every variety. You wanted to continue crying, mourn for the heartbreak, but it wasn't the time. 

-"Y-you're .. … uh, you're crying?" You almost silently croaked.

-"Because I love you and you're hurting me." Jonathan calmly explained, eyeing your jaw. 

Looking away, you saw that if you sprinted, you could most certainly beat him to the door if he was incapacitated well enough. 

-"I'm sorry. .. . Maybe I misjudged you." You looked back with a forced smile. -"Either way, what choice do I have? We're bonded together. I… … am yours." 

-"Yes." He hummed as he closed onto your lips harshly. -"Mine." He breathed in between kisses. 

You move my hands to his chest and slowly make my way to his shirt pocket. Your fingers steadily grip a pen and slip it out, hoping he mistook your movements for simple caressing. Once it’s safely out, you lift you right hand up aggressively and stab his left leg ruthlessly. 

Jonathan bellows in pain and stumbles away, eyes wide as pain shot through his leg. By the time he caught his footing, it was too late; you were already slamming the door shut behind you. You hear him scream expletives and slam his fist against the walls as he struggles to run after you with his hindered balance. 

Luckily the elevator was on your side. The doors closed as you saw Jonathan and his raving expression come close, he was figuring out how to run with his handicap quickly. 

You lean against the walls as they took you to an unknown floor. You couldn’t decide what was worse. Dealing with Joker and his goons, or Scarecrow and his goons. You knew you had momentarily evaded both, but for how long could you do it? How sure were you that help would be on their way right now or soon? You thought about going to Ivy at the Greenhouse, but there was no guarantee that traversing the open courtyard would be safe, but it was your best bet regardless. 

The elevator finally stopped, and while the doors steadily parted, so did your breathing. 

No one was there.

Sighing, you made your way through the coffin-like corridors of the mental hospital. So plain, rigid, and echo-y. Your mind was a foggy, scrambled mess, but regardless you pressed on. Unfortunately, the further you traversed, the more the walls seemed to close in, figuratively. It was all in your mind. 

-” You know, Y/N~” A distant growl rolled throughout the hall. -” True fear is the absence of hope.” It taunted from afar.  -” And when I get to you… oh, by the time I get done with you... you'll understand what fear is all about.” He cackled as the sounds of beating footsteps got closer. 

That was your cue to start running again. 

-”Y/N?~ You weren’t running before? I’m flattered, you were waiting for me to catch up!” Another manic cackle ricocheted off the walls. 

Knowing it was harder to hear socks on tile flooring, you take your shoes off and throw them onto a nearby electric industrial mop, hoping it might make him think you ran off to a different direction. 

And it seemed like he did take the bait. 

It seemed like. 

Until you loudly threw the doors open to the courtyard and took three steps outside before getting tackled to the ground. 

- "Fear makes you predictable." Scarecrow’s raspy, glottal sounds covered your ears. You couldn’t see much with his mask on, but you could still tell he was smilingly wickedly. "I am in complete control, Y/N. Stop resisting. You're mine. You can’t deny this love I have for you!"

As you struggle to kick him, your resolve weakens as your vision becomes blurry. Images from your past family come flooding in once again. You shake your head, desperate for them to leave. You then see Jonathan join them in a similar bloody near death state, Scarecrow next to him laughing. Both your mother and he revel in their crimes. 

You can tell you’re crying, but at the same time your mind is in so many different places, it can’t truly tell what’s going on. 

And then Scarecrow motions you to grab his hand and your mother’s. It’s as if he wants you to face your fears. He wants you to embrace those who killed your happy realities. At first, you try to curl yourself in a ball, but then… … you feel someone close.

The two perpetrators are inches away from you, still offering their hands to you. But this time you take it. 

-” Embrace the fear of loss, Y/N. Fear isn’t the enemy.” You hear whispered all over your mind. 

You look down and realize that your hands are covered in blood, leaving your past hands almost unrecognizable, but at least they aren’t alone. They feel warmth. 

You suddenly feel fear in its entirety. It’s crippling.

Overwhelming. 

But also safe. Trustworthy. 

-” Jonathan.” You call out weakly, your vision starting to fade completely. 

That was until a dark figure appeared in front of you. You heard some heavy punches being thrown around and you just sat on the floor of the courtyard, not knowing what was real and what wasn't. Your hands are clasping each other as you lightly rock back and forth, smiling with tears streaming down your face. 

-”Mom… I miss you.” 

It has been eight years since you left Arkham Asylum. A country life is what surrounds you now. A country life with two kids and a loving husband. You all live a simple life. He’s an equestrian coach. He trains the young and old at the field next to your house. You are the veterinarian that tends to his horses. The two of you make a great pair. Not to mention, you have very smart, popular children. Your family is well respected and loved in your town. One would’ve never guessed what ordeals you had gone through to achieve such peace. 

Thankfully, no one ever would. The whole Arkham asylum insurrection incident never gave specific deails on what happened. Some say the deceased list that appeared in the papers a few days later was incorrect. Like always, Batman had saved the day, and he had saved you. 

A week later you found yourself in this dusty town, taking care of a gerriatic man with a handsome grandson that was too busy with the family horse business to take care of him. After several rejections throughout the years on your part, you were happily married. The old man had died by then and the grandson had inherited the ranch. He sold part of it to finance your studies, saying that’s what his grandfather would’ve wanted. 

Just only two years ago had your family grown by fraternal twins. They were loved very much. It was rare for you to have flashbacks to your past family and their fate. Only once had you wondered if your children would share the same fate as your siblings. One could say you were over your traumas.

But not all of them. 

Everyone in town knew how much you hated the month of October. All of the fall, really, but mostly just October. Just the sight of burlap would cause you to start sweating profusely. Soon the town learned to place scarecrows in a less visible place for your sake. They all learned to be patient and kind with you when you saw kids running in masks and your legs gave in in the middle of the street. 

You barely spoke of the incident other than to your husband. He knew everything. He did his best to support you. On those nights where it was hard to breathe, he held you close. His love remedied your symptoms. 

It was almost poetic how Scarecrow had succeeded in unlocking your feelings. You could feel fear again, but you could also love without reservation. Without him, you wouldn’t have your wonderful family, life, and dream career. 

Despite knowing, with a heavy heart, that this nightmare you had found yourself in would never end- 

That you’d never stop looking over your shoulder, yelping at burlap, imagining tall, stalking shadows, and having sleepless nights for a while month. 

You were in peace, content. You were human again.

[notnctu]

push & pull | kim doyoung

❀ slytherin!doyoung x hufflepuff!femreader ❀ genre - SLOW BURN, smut, fluff, a bit of humor (idk not rlly) ❀ details -  hogwarts!au, fwb to lovers?, y/n is a player lol, jealous doyoung, mutual pining, doyoung is a lil mean ❀ word count - 9.7k ❀ warnings - explicit language, possessiveness (a concept of marking), dom!doyoung, angry sex?, slight dirty talk, penetration, fingering, praise kink ❀ synopsis - in which a prideful slytherin and an oblivious hufflepuff play a clueless emotion game of tug of war.

❝I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?❞  

❝People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you pursue me?❞ ❀ a/n - i changed the plot a little bit as i was writing lol but hopefully it still fits everything! i said this in the teaser, but i want to preface and say that the magic/marking is not canon to harry potter, and that the only thing im using are the sectional houses/subjects. besides that, everything is made up LMAO also pls b lenient with me, i read hogwarts!au but writing it is very out of my comfort zone and am very bad at creating anything magical 

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Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, mindlessly and imperfectly steals glances your way across the dining tables and under several hundred floating lit candles. He sits huddled with his few posh friends that wear the same green and silver tie situated so tightly underneath their necks. And you, just looking as dazzling as ever, with your yellow and black tie hanging loose and a few buttons undone from your dress shirt.

He hates how easily you catch his attention and his ability to spot your figure in a dense crowd. You barely even look his way in public now, often distracted by a broad Gryffindor that tries to make flirtatious advantages at you. And when he thinks it can’t get any worse, it does… as you’re flashing your bright beautiful smile back at him and the shift in your body language.

“You’re staring again.” Yuta flickers between his friend and the subject of his focus.

Doyoung clears his throat, smooths his tie and physically turns his body away from the horrendous scene. “It’s very hard not to stare when she’s flirting with other men in front of me.”

“Does she do it on purpose?” The silver haired boy raises a questionable eyebrow and Doyoung reacts before he can speak.

He perks up and narrows his eyes at Yuta. “Purpose? Like to make me jealous?” Doyoung scoffs, laughs almost at the ridiculous thought. “The answer is no. We’re not exclusive, we’re nothing.”

“If you two are nothing, then why are you acting like you two are something? Get a grip, it’s practically sickening watching you fume over a ditzy Hufflepuff.” As Yuta prepares to bite into his delicious soft bread roll, it flies out of his grip, down the long table and onto another person’s plate.

Both boys are quick to stand to their feet and face each other chest to chest. Neither one of them is intimidated by the other, but their other friends around them are rather shocked by the sudden discrepancy.

Doyoung forcibly brushes off an imaginary dust off his good friend’s shoulders and draws a perfectly strained fake smile, knowing that others may be watching and he is a Prefect after all. But most importantly, you could be watching. “Call her that again, and your dinner won’t be the only thing that’s thrown across the table.” His threat is loud enough solely for Yuta to hear.

Yuta, with glaring eyes, picks up his dinner tray and walks off with his chin held high and a brisk in his stride. Doyoung clears his throat in the midst of the brief silence and out of habit, fixes his tie back in place. He takes a seat back down and the chatter at the table resumes, but he’s beyond embarrassed and disappointed at his loss of temper that everything drowns out.

Almost everything. He feels a light tap on his shoulder and out of annoyance, he spins around hastily and sharply snarls, “what?” But his eyes land on your fearful wide eyes and the slight cower in your stance, knowing that you caught onto his bad mood. And he’s half in disbelief that you’re approaching him right in the center of the Great Hall, that you’re standing so beautiful a foot away from him.

Instant regret and guilt fills his chest, his sharp eyes soften at your pout and the concerned furrow in between your brows. Nonetheless, he doesn’t have any words to say… he can’t get himself to apologize for his behavior.

“Do you want to walk to Herbology with me?” The quiver in your voice made you seem so small, so desperate for him, that he can hear the reactions of his friends. They’re laughing, at him, at you, at the whole scene that’s unfolding. He feels mocked, being a laughing stock isn’t something he’s very fond of.

His lips form a tight line, and in a snarky tone, “you don’t know your own way, Puff? Mind you ask your own Prefect to guide you.” Fuck. He tried to find the nicest way possible to brush you off, but his friends laugh a bit louder and intensely. And you didn’t like that one bit.

Your lips part slightly in a frown, an eyebrow raised and a hand on your hip. You look as if you’re ready to attack him, to jinx him, to probably pinch at his skin. But he knows you, and you’d do none of the above. Instead, you say the one threat that causes his heart to sink into the pit of his stomach, “don’t talk to me in class.” You’re slipping away from him as you pick up your pace, exiting all the commotion in the Great Hall.

He tries to hide the disappointment that stems from his chest, and his heart beats with an inexplicable dull pain. All he can think about is the twist of your expression and he’s gathering his things rather quickly to follow after you, without even a bid goodbye to his clique.

Without any knowledge of what you two do behind closed doors and the complex history that you two share, one may view your relationship as practically nonexistent; you two are strangers, barely passing acquaintances. 

Doyoung does not approach you in the halls, in anywhere that necessarily has many witnesses. You smile at him, maybe even a wave depending on your mood, but no one questions it … as you wave at almost everyone who passes by you.

Classmates might see interaction during the one class you two share, if they pay attention close enough. However, you and Doyoung are much more to each other than passing acquaintances. Although he’s starting to see himself as another name on your list of individuals you sleep with, you are much more to him than you could ever know.

He’ll never forget the first time you two met. He was patrolling the halls for anyone lurking past curfew with his nose dug deep in his heavy book on magical creatures, when you walked right into him and caused the both of you to fall to the granite.

He was beyond ready to dock off points for whoever the rule breaker may be, but you took his breath away when you hovered above him and clasped your palm over his mouth before he can scold anyone. You looked a bit frazzled as your hair was all over the place and he noticed your minimal amount of clothing in the middle of a cold winter night.

He saw the signature Hufflepuff badge on your thin sweater and the sound of your voice completely threw him off his tracks.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper at the stunned Prefect underneath you, whose body feels warm against your own. But your eyes remain frantically on the lookout for anyone else passing, despite the lack of light in the cobblestone hallway. You most definitely do not belong in this wing of the castle and knocking down a Prefect caused more of a problem in your escape route.

Quickly standing up, you lend your hand out for him to take. His long fingers accept your hold as he pulls himself up and dusts the dirt off his robe. His green emblem glows in the dim light and you’re internally screaming at the mess you just made for yourself. But you recognize his features: the sharpness in his eyes, the small curves of the corners of his lips, his neatly parted black hair.

“You’re in some deep---”

“---Kim Doyoung.” The boy freezes at the sound of his name and he blinks at you, curious as to where you know of him. Being a Prefect has its small perks of popularity, but he didn’t expect for it to go this far. “Y/N, we had brooms together.”

As he repeats your name and examines your pretty features, a light bulb goes off in his head. “The clumsy Hufflepuff that fell off her broom in the highest altitude?”

“If that’s how you remember me by.” You smile proudly, and he scoffs at how someone could possibly hold pride in something so silly. “It’s nice to see you around, you’re a Prefect! Wow! That’s incredible.”

“And you’re still as clumsy as you were a year ago. Falling all over the place.”

“Unfortunately, some things don’t change! But you certainly have.” Doyoung looks at you with hooded eyes and a cautious gaze, but you’re so outlandishly bold despite swaying with your hands behind your back. “Please, don’t take that the wrong way. I meant it as a compliment! I used to have a tiny crush on you, baseless, but you helped me catch my broomstick and I’ll never be able to forget that.”

Doyoung, unknowingly, lights up at your shameless confession and takes another good look at you. You're much more mature now, and if he stared into your alluring gaze any longer, he’d be completely mesmerized without the need of a love potion. “So you liked me over a meaningless chivalrous act?”

“I liked you because you were charming and yes, perhaps I am someone who finds attractiveness in men who are chivalrous. There’s nothing wrong with that.” You bat your sweet eyelashes at him so endearingly, and he’s a blushing mess all over the place.

Doyoung has had anonymous love letters passed on from his friends, but they were all Slytherins who yearned greedily to be associated with his status. So knowing that a Hufflepuff, with an innocent youthful approach to love, festered some form of infatuation with him does flatter him quite well. “I’ll let you go.”

You’re about to exhale an exasperated sigh of relief until Doyoung continues, “under one condition.”

“Okay, I’ll do anything.” Your gleaming eyes sparkle like stars paired with the night sky.

He rolls his eyes at you, “don’t be so quick to jump at conditions without hearing them first.” Doyoung groans and you passively brush off his comment.

“If it’s harmless, I’ll do it.”

And in the dead of the night, where only you two stand in the middle of an empty cobblestone hallway, Doyoung requests, “I want to see you again.”

Although that night marked the beginning of your friendship, public interactions were still scarce and this was mainly on the fault of Doyoung. The times you met were late nights past curfew where he was stationed at and he grew to enjoy your wondrous personality. This boy grew up in a Slytherin bubble his whole life, no one outside of his house ever dared approached him … at least, not with the warmest smile as yours.

You were everything he was not, but he liked it so much. You were a half that completed his whole, and there were growing pains he couldn’t confide in anyone else. Surprisingly, you knew his imperfections more than he did himself and yet, you still wanted to be around him to encourage him. Not to mention, you had a sudden growth in other parts of your body and formed into your features very beautifully.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed, as there were more male counterparts who smiled at you, talked about you, fawned over you. And he felt something heighten inside of him along with his existing romantic feelings, and that he began seeing you in a new light.

With you experiencing new things, like hand holding and being showered by love letters on Valentine’s Day, it was wrong of him to fester such envy over the ones who publicly adorned you. He was so blinded by his hot headed rage that he completely missed the fact that you never accepted anyone who confessed, maybe the hand holding, but everyone else was a complete rejection.

All this time, you had been waiting for him and when you two shared your first kiss together, you had an assumption that Doyoung was going to finally confess that he felt the same way. But he never did. You two did, however, further your relationship into something more intimate and taking each other’s virginities opened a whole pathway of possibilities --- none being one where you two end up officially together.

He was the first to sleep with someone else, that was his first of many mistakes that he was going to make in his relationship with you. It also became the drop of the needle for you to start seeing other people as well, to explore what Doyoung couldn’t offer, to rid yourself of the feelings you had for a boy that didn’t seem like he wanted anything more.

Chivalry was dead and Doyoung believed that the innocent youthful Hufflepuff love had disappeared from within you.

As his present day runs after you, you’re abruptly stopped by a Ravenclaw for a small chat. Damn you Hufflepuffs for being friendly and social. So, he rushes past the two of you and into the classroom to await for your arrival. The quick shade of green flashes by your side and you’re fuming incredibly at how Doyoung continues to play you like a harp.

When you slide into your assigned seat next to him, he goes off like a canon. Doyoung starts spewing backhanded excuses and endless shameless rambles about his behavior. “I told you. Don’t talk to me during class or I will jinx you. Won’t be able to talk with your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.”

“You’re not going to jinx me.” With a subtle flick of his wrist, your chair is pulled closer to his. “And if you were to do so, you wouldn’t do something so cynical.” Yelping at the abrupt usage of his magic, you’re irritably pressing your ink into your journal with a newfound annoyance.

“You’re right. I’d turn you into a duck, so at least, you’re still cute to look at.” The mindless scribbles on the paper make no sense in your head, as you’re primarily zoned in on the disrupted energy you have about your Slytherin companion. These ill feelings make you almost sick, wanting to shut out any bad replay of the moments before and forgetting about the attention you seek so much from Doyoung.

“For you to successfully cast a jinx on me, you must make eye contact first.” His finger lifts your chin and you’re eye to eye with his lustful dark stare. Doyoung licks his lips, a shine shimmers from his saliva, and he’s tempted to bring you into his chambers for an intimacy he’s been craving. “My, oh my. You’re looking very charmed today.” A grin curves up and taunts you, and you’re blinking away down at the table.

“Doyoung, we’re in class. Please, focus.” Your desperate whisper turns into a whine once his cold hand slyly smooths over your bare knee.

“Are you free later tonight?” Doyoung peers over at your side profile and your skin feels soft at his fingertips. He’s imagining your intoxicating scent mixing with his sheets, your light playful kisses along his neck, and gripping onto every naked part of you. For a whole minute, he’s forgotten that he’s in class with other no name individuals and a boring professor. He has tunnel vision whenever he’s with you.

“I have an arrangement.” The grip on your knee tightens at your quiet answer. An arrangement.

“The Gryffindor who had leafy greens in between his teeth?” Doyoung treads lightly, because you’re both well aware he’s made harsher insults than that. He retrieves his hand and picks up his pen as if he’s never touched you.

He sees your head shake out of the corner of his eye, you’re rolling your lips together sheepishly. There’s something odd about your stance and he’s growing a bit more curious…. A bit more spiteful at how closed off you are being. There’s something you’re hiding from him. “Then, who?”

“Is there something you’d like to discuss with the class, Mr. Kim? If not, I’d like for everyone to head over to the greenhouse.” As the class slightly snickers and the classroom empties, you and Doyoung are stopped by your professor.

Professor Sprout, wearing her worn out Dragon hide gloves and a thin lined smile, shoves a potted plant into Doyoung’s hands, “behave, you two. Your conversations are never very secret when spoken aloud.” She gives both of you a warning before proceeding out along with the rest of the class.

Doyoung scoffs at the absurd encounter and rolls his eyes. “Ah, you’re getting me in trouble with you now.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung. It’s better that you don’t know.” You say this every time, when will you realize that keeping your hookups a secret only causes him more agony? He catches your wrist as you both exit the corridors, he barely ever has you alone now. And to say the least, he fucking misses you.

“Spare me some of your time after class.” He’s disgusted by himself, knowing that his eyes are begging for you to say yes. Him, a highly admired Slytherin, has settled for scraps and if anyone knew, they’d never let him live.

Your hand gently clasps over his and when you look up with your starry eyes, something inside him feels at peace. “Did you miss me?” He gulps at your question and blinks at you like a deer in headlights. If said by anyone else, he would not hesitate to snap his fingers into a malicious spell. But you ask the million dollar question so sweetly, there’s no taunt… there’s no mockery in your tone. It’s full of genuine curiosity.

So, he answers you with part of his heart that you know too well. “Unfortunately.” His body falls slightly in defeat, and suddenly the potted plant is alive in his hands. It’s wailing a dangerous and annoying loud cry, completely ruining the moment.

Doyoung quizzically ponders the monstrous green plant and its magical capabilities puzzle him, possibly reminding him to pay more attention to the actual curriculum than on your unbuttoned shirt.

Moreover, your giggle surprisingly calms him in this stressful situation and you lightly pat his hand that’s still gripping your wrist. “I’m all yours after class.” 

Taking the wretched plant, you hurry off toward the greenhouse to find someone to diffuse the crying creature. Doyoung laughs in disbelief at your comical animated figure running around with a pot over your head and shouting for any student to help you. So you’re not paying attention in class either?

Doyoung takes you to your favorite place, despite the rule that you’re not allowed access to it. The Prefect Bathroom remains spotlessly clean and fresh paired with an immediate scent of rosewater and wild honeysuckle. The white polished marble gleams prettily under the twinkling diamond chandeliers and you’re twirling enthusiastically in the center of the large undressing area.

He observes and smiles widely to himself at the sight of your happiness and cute giggles. It’s always a risk to have you use their bathroom, but he is always abusing his privilege to seek your enjoyment that he truly doesn’t care about anything else. Your morality has beaten him enough and he’s heard plenty about his wrongdoings, yet here you are… sweetly dancing in the one place that’s absolutely wrong. Perhaps, you two have rubbed off a little too much on one another.

“I can never get sick of this place.” As you plead to Doyoung to cast a bubble bath, you’re already stripping out of your skirt. He shields his eyes to give you some privacy and recites the charm to run hot dazzling water in the ginormous pool. A nice soothing bath is exactly what you two need after a stressful day playing in the dirt.

“This is your favorite place.” says Doyoung with a matter of fact edge to this tone.

“It’s my favorite place because I only get to come here with you.” You jump on his back and he hoists you up by your thighs. His heart skips a happy tune. “I refuse for you to tell me the password, even if you do wish for me to enjoy the simple pleasures of a bubble bath.”

“You and your right and wrongs.” With eager hands, you’re loosening his tie from around his neck. “You stripped so fast that you’re going to get a cold.”

“It’s going to get steamy really soon. Plus, I know you like me best without any clothes on.” Your hot breath tickles the shell of his ear and a blush scatters across Doyoung’s cheek. Button after button, his open shirt exposes his toned build. He sets you on the edge of the elevated step before the bath.

Doyoung smirks at your nakedness and your hot lustful expression. Leaning in until he’s practically breathing against your lips, he stares straight into your eyes. “My Puff knows me best.” And dives into you with all his soul. Fruitful drags of his lips along yours, his long tongue enters your mouth. His large hand carefully caresses your cheek to pull you further into the kiss, noses pressing into skin and with a desire to never part.

His heart swells lovingly, kissing you feels like the best thing in the world. There are no tricks, no spells, no recited charms, but you are more than magical. The same surge of energy runs through his veins, but unlike his impressive ability as a notable wizard, he can’t control it. You make him lose control. As meticulous and cautious as he is, you’re the first thing he doesn’t think through.

Your needy hands push off his dress shirt and he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. When you break the kiss, he automatically pouts and pulls you back in for one more lingering peck. “Are you going to scrub my back for me?” You smile, dragging him closer to the overflowing bathtub.

Large puffs of white bubbles spill from the rims and disappear with your every step. It reminds you of sea foam that washes upon the shore, with a floral fragrant that fills your lungs. “That’s quite an intimate gesture, but yes.”

After removing all his garments, he joins you in the large pool of glossy bubbles and the clouds of steam that rises from the water suffocates him warmly. He sits with his back against the wall and eyes unwavering on your alluring expression. 

The bubbles do a great job at covering your breasts, but his sneaky hands snake under the water to grip them. Doyoung grabs a full tit and thumbs over your erect nipple, all while he holds the most sensual gaze with you. Slowly, you naturally end up in his hold and your wet back relaxes against his chest.

The beating of his heart is too loud and surely, you can feel the way it jumps out of his chest. Doyoung attaches his lips on your skin and as you’re melting at his harsh suckling. However, you perk up and snap out of your dazed arousal at the realization of his purposeful licks. “You’re trying to mark me?”

His hand continues to rub and twist your aching nipples. The sensation stimulating the growth of pleasure to sprout below and your mind to wander. 

“Possibly.”

A lovers’ mark is the ultimate testament of mutual love. Engraving the skin with your beloved’s Patronus, wherever the giver chooses to mark. Love emblems are meant to be something sacred to the couple, a way to make someone completely untouchable to everyone else. Not only does the symbol glow with an iridescent shine whenever love is felt, it also numbs any romantic feelings for all others besides the partner.

Besides the use of possessiveness, it’s a beautiful way to discover one true love since the engraving of their Patronus shows up on the skin under the conditions that both individuals must be madly in love with one another. And if it doesn’t end up forming, the receiver is left with a bright, sparkling star hue in its place before fading away completely. If it does appear, it fades when both fall out of love.

“Doyoung--” His name falls from your lips as a moan and he’s running down to explore the beauty between your legs. “--can’t do that unless you actually want to commit to me.”

“I am committed to you.” The more your neck cranes off to the side and exposed to him, the more he wishes to etch the symbol of his love for everyone to see. A hand is hooked under your thigh to keep your legs spread open and you’re gasping at the slight pressure from the water.

“Romantically committed to me.” You remind him, but your train of thought is cut fairly short as Doyoung begins rubbing circles on your needy clit.

“You’re afraid of it showing up?” He’s lathering your breasts with bubbles and dragging his long finger along your slit. His greediness overtakes him and with wandering hands, he’s gripping every part of you that they can reach. Doyoung’s guilty pleasure is always going to any form of physical affection from you specifically. When he finally gets ahold of you, it’s hard for him to let go.

Your warm skin is delicate and smooth beneath the very tips of his fingers and every exploration of your terrain makes him feel inexplicable explosions of fondness. Perhaps, you’ve captivated him and although he believed it would take something as extreme as the Amortentia to have him falling for someone, you did it as easily as being yourself. His better half.

So, he’s impressed by your genuineness and how he’s willing to give up parts of his reputation to unapologetically be himself around you. No one else matters, nothing else matters, but why must it be so difficult to tell you that?

“I’m afraid of it not showing up.” You’re more than convinced that Doyoung has confused his strong sense of lust with love and there would be no possible way his Patronus would appear. It’s better to save the embarrassment for the both of you.

Spinning in his arms, the water twirls to the curves of your body and he’s admiring parts that expose above the surface. He’s matched with your beauty before him, resemblance to the stained glass window that situates above the large bathroom.

However, the doubt in your statement finally reaches his ears and he’s grabbing your ass as you settle over his thighs again. His furrowed eyebrows bring together a rather upset expression --- lip pout and all.

“Why wouldn’t it show up?” Doyoung puzzles, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. Leaning into him, your pruney fingers trace his smooth chin and he notices your quick flicker between his eyes and his lips.

While your gentle kiss reassures him of your subtle endearment, your next words do the opposite. “You tell me.” All you do is push him away with your vague doubtfulness, like you’re constantly testing him and using his poor guessing skills to your own advantage. He can pull you close after any altercation he wants, but you push him away in any emotionally romantic sense.

“You’re rather mischievous and mysterious today,” Doyoung squeezes your ass and smacks it lightly, causing ripples in the water. “I liked it better when you told me everything you felt.”

Suddenly, his fingers poke at your entrance and his other hand drops in between your legs again. Your mouth opens in shock when his long fingers enter slowly and he enjoys the pleasurable contour of your reactions. “Like this, for example.” The pad of his fingers working rapid flicks against your sensitive bud. “How does this feel?” His whisper dances across your shoulder, landing a kiss at the end of his question.

Your moans echo in the lavish bathroom, bouncing off the marble walls and encouraging Doyoung to keep a steady pace. There’s no worry about how loud you may be, Doyoung charms every room before every lustful encounter. This allows you to let go, let free, let him know how he makes you feel.

He curves his fingers into you, pumping and dragging into your tightness until you’re practically screaming. He only has one thought, as his eyes trail down your intoxicated needy figure, how beautiful you are as a moaning mess under his control. Your head is thrown back, eyes are squeezed shut and opening them to see nothing but tiny yellow starlight.

Dainty kisses line your exposed neck line and his ego swells with so much pride. Doyoung has mastered every flick of his wrist to have you under his trance, spewing nonsensical words and forgetting anyone else that exists. He gives your erect nipples harsh licks and with a faint drag of teeth, the sensation pushes you to your end.

Sporadic pleasurable convulsions cause your legs to close around Doyoung’s hands, but the strength of his knee keeps them apart. “Doyoung… I’m going to free fall.”

Leave it up to you to beautifully announce your climax. He snickers, applying more pressure on your clit and a rubbing motion against your walls. “I’ll catch you.”

Moon crescents embed into his skin as you’re holding onto him with your whole life. As your scream hits every octave, the massive collection of bubbles that cover the surface of the bath fly and splatter every corner of the pristine room. 

White and wet bubbles drip down from the walls, falling from the diamond chandeliers, and coating every steamy mirror. Doyoung’s eyes light up from the chaos, making sure you’re riding out your high for as long as he can provide.

Your body trembles with euphoria, falling forward into Doyoung’s chest and squeezing around his lazily pumping fingers. For a brief second, your mind is wiped and nothing in the world feels better than being in this perfect moment with the one person who’s Patronus you hoped would etch your skin.

If one possesses feelings that are practically unbearable to contain, one should confess… right? For all your life, you’ve lived by this statement. Friends do not hear the end of it and most surely, one should follow their own advice… right?

So why do you yearn for Doyoung in your gaze as he stands across the Great Hall as if he doesn’t know of your existence? As if he wasn’t kissing you in the Prefect bathroom a few days prior?

It’s not an understatement to say that you catch the attention of almost every person in the room, but the one head that refuses to turn your way… the one who’s looks you wish to steal… is the one person who looks right through you.

Feelings have become a nuisance ever since the first time you confessed to him and it was worse than landing on cobblestone after falling off your broom. The reason why you’ve buried them deeper than any chamber is that you’re positive that the prized Slytherin would rather be with another, preferably one from his own house.

While you try to remain optimistic and playful for the time being, you’re simply replaceable to him. He can barely care to acknowledge you in public when Gryffindors boast about you in their arms like winning a trophy. You’ve kept good relations with every Ravenclaw you’ve slept with. You’ve kindly rejected every romantic gesture another Hufflepuff has offered.

But if there is one thing you’ve learned about him is that he’s lived in his Slytherin circle for as long as he lives. And it will stay that way. You’re his sweet Hufflepuff that he’ll push away at no cost, then pull you back in secrecy.

Now if one feels as if they’re wasting their time, one should leave… right? Wrong. Kim Doyoung has skewed with your morality… and your feelings remain loyal to him since the day he confessed to see you again.

“Lemon-drop, I’ve been looking all over for you.” An arm slings around your shoulders and the notable red and gold tie is the first thing you see. Jung Jaehyun, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, flashes his deep dimples at you. “Walk with me.”

He extends his palm out for you to take and your friends painfully elbow your sides to wake you from your hesitation. Taking his hand, you get up from the dining table and follow him out the Great Hall.

Doyoung sees the scene unfold before him and rolls his eyes at how Jaehyun’s dimples are all it takes to have you wandering off with him. Despite every wicked intent to follow you two, he heads out in the direction of the dormitories to fume in his room.

“It’s such a nice and sunny day today.” Jaehyun runs a hand through his luscious brown locks. You both exit into the front courtyard as other students are scattered on the lawns mingling with one another. When you peer up at the sky, the sun is barely seen past the layers of clouds.

“Jaehyun, is there something you needed to speak with me about?” His laughter roars, full of hefty song and amusement.

“Listen, lemon-drop. I like you and I have a feeling you feel the same way. I want to mark you if you’d let me.” Jaehyun smirks and just as he brings your hand up for a kiss, you gently let go. “Am I coming off too strong? We don’t have to do it today, I just wanted to see if it would show.”

“Jaehyun, you’re going to find an extravagant person one day. A person who is going to know all your favorite castle balconies to swing from and how you like to be kissed on the nose.” His ears grow a bright red and for once, his gaze drops to the ground. “I am, unfortunately, not that person for you so I must kindly reject your confession.”

As you turn on your toes, Jaehyun lightly holds your wrist to stop you. “But, you know all those things about me. Is there anything I can do to prove that we belong together?”

“I know them because I care enough to remember things you tell me, not because I loved you enough to observe these things about you. I give you my word that there is nothing you can do to prove me otherwise.” The corners of his lips dip downward and you’re running to the one person that will erase this sad rejection from your memory.

When you’re scanning the Great Hall for any sign of him, he’s not there and it leads you to his only hiding place. Doyoung loves to shut himself out from the rest of the school whenever he gets the chance. However, a lost Hufflepuff wandering outside the entrance of the Slytherin dormitories is rather an odd sight to see and you haven’t had the chance to form many connections from this house.

The sparse amount of Slytherins you know aren’t going to be passing by, unless with some stroke of luck, someone will be kind enough to open the door for you. Every person passes by you with questionable stares until a silver haired boy blinks at you with wide eyes.

“Who is it that you’re trying to see?” He asks abrasively, but softens his tone when he realizes that you mean no harm.

You bid him a small grin, “your Prefect.”

“And what for?”

“There is an urgent matter that involves him and he’s practically unreachable when he’s hiding away in his private room.” The boy narrows his eyes at you, but beckons you to follow him down to the Slytherin dungeon.

Excitedly, you hurry behind him and whisper over his shoulder, “what’s your name?”

“Nakamoto Yuta. No need to tell me yours, I’ll doubt he’d want me to know.” He spits and then, mutters the enchanted password to reveal the large green common room. “Come this way.” He leads up the boys’ dorms and walks briskly. Although you never mentioned a name, Yuta seems to already know who you’re here to see and it makes you wonder how he must know.

“Open up.” Yuta stops and knocks at the wooden door, Kim Doyoung written in a fancy penmanship on the center. “You have a guest.” He looks your way before rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s irritated tone through the other side.

“Tell them to leave.”

“He wants you to leave.” Yuta repeats, mostly to satisfy Doyoung’s nag.

“That’s fine. Thank you for bring---” The door swings open abruptly and Yuta almost loses his balance. Doyoung frantically turns his head side to side to comprehend what he is seeing. His ears felt deceived, hearing your voice through the door, he had to make sure it wasn’t you.

But you stand before him and Yuta. Here you are approaching him whenever he least expects it. “What are you doing here?”

“I came by to see you. I’ve been here plenty of times.”

“What are you doing bringing her in?” scolds Doyoung and the other boy shrugs carelessly.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her bat puppy eyes at several other Slytherins and have her telling everyone who passes her that she came here to see our Prefect? It was also getting cold out.” Yuta mumbles, but finds great entertainment at seeing how frazzled Doyoung has gotten by your presence.

“It was a bit chilly.” You admit and Doyoung groans, pulling you into his room and shutting the door on Yuta. “Thank you, Yuta.” You whisper through the crack between the door frame.

“It’s too risky for you to be searching for me around other Slytherins.” Doyoung paces the room and you notice his tie is loose and shirt is unbuttoned around his neck. “Why are you here?”

“A Gryffindor blew me off. I thought I’d come and see you with all the free time I can get.” Taking a seat at the end of his neatly made bed, your legs swing adorably and Doyoung almost doesn’t hear you.

“Jaehyun? Does he think he’s too good for you or something? That cocky dimple Gryffindor, with the draw of my wand---” Doyoung whips out his intricately customized Dragon Heartstring, and you’re on your feet to calm his temper down.

“Will you put that thing away? I’m here for you.” Your giggle warms his tight chest and puts out the fueling flame for anyone who dares to hurt you in any way. “It’s not a big deal and it’s not the first time it has happened.”

Doyoung uncomfortably clears his throat and withdraws his wand. Buttoning up his shirt, he fixes his tie back in place. To say the least, your words erupted his festering jealousy and this may have been a small tipping point.

Before you had entered, he was so frustrated with himself and you. You can just walk away with another man without a second thought, in front of him too. He remembered the soft feeling of your body and how he’s not the only one who’s needy hands ran their course over you. That may be the one pain he can never get rid of.

“I never understood why you give other men the time of your day when they just brush you off undeservingly.” He stings and you’re slightly surprised at his sudden attack. When you respond in silence, he continues.“I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?”

Crossing your arms, your weight is barred on your left leg and there is a shift in your overall mood. With an eyebrow raised, you sass him back, “People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you chase after me?”

Doyoung swallows hard and blinks at you speechless. A clammy hand runs through his black strands as he tries to find any possible explanation without confessing his feelings. If he had a plan to confess, it would never be in the middle of an inquisition with you.

“I guess you didn’t think before acting on your desires.” And how he hated how correct that statement is. He doesn’t ever think whenever he’s around you. All his actions are conducted with his emotions and the feelings that overtake him.

Doyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes at your rash comment. “Aren’t you supposed to have the strongest morality among all the houses?”

“Sleeping with multiple men isn’t morally wrong. There’s nothing wrong with it…” The slight hurt from his question is difficult to ignore, but you must remember one thing if you want to protect your heart on your sleeve. This is nothing serious to be bickering over. You two aren’t anything serious, so why feel the need to squabble over nonsense? “... it would only be wrong if someone liked me and wished to commit to me.”

Your eyes meet and Doyoung blinks at you with wide eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he gulps again, completely whiplashed at how the conversation has turned. “And if that’s the case and you like me, would that make you jealous, Doyoung? That’s why you’re trying to poorly attack my character?” He’s never heard such a strong taunt in your tone and he’s baffled by it, slightly aroused, but shocked.

“I don’t like you.” His voice is small and he pouts his lips at you. Doyoung crosses his arms and perhaps, his sad expression reveals a little more than it should have. Your heart softens at his ridiculously cute response, had you expected something much more angry and vindictive.

“Then this conversation is over, right? I’ll be on my way now. I have herbology.”

“We have the same class.” He grumbles, grabbing his robe from his desk chair.

You open the door to make your exit, “but since you don’t want to be seen with a Hufflepuff, I’ll go ahead first.” When you stumble out into the hallway, a recognizable face brightens at your appearance.

“Haechan! Hello, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You’re cheering and Doyoung chews the inside of his cheek. His pride is left at the door and along with all the things that hold him back from you, he doesn’t want to push you away anymore.

“My favorite Hufflepuff, are you just leaving?” Haechan walks up to open his arms, wishing to embrace you in the longest hug. However, Doyoung quickly takes you by your hand and rushes past him.

“She came to walk with me to class. Bye Haechan.” And Haechan is left standing in the middle of the hallway, confused and watching your backs as you’re both briskly walking out the common room.

Doyoung looks back at you, “you think I’m going to let you walk out of my room and have another Slytherin walk you to class? Don’t be so foolish.”

But you are foolish. Your heart beats foolishly and loudly for Kim Doyoung. And may you be foolish enough to wonder if his heart does the same for you.

And it does. Foolishly. Loudly. Lovingly.

You both wonder if this vicious cycle will ever meet its end. Doyoung pushes you away by ignoring your existing relationship, but pulls you back into his embrace as if it never happened. You push him away by running off with other men, but come back to him as if he’s the one person you’re loyal to.

But on this particular night, after mass circulation of rumors reaches the ears of the lovesick Slytherin, Doyoung is pulling you away from your huddled group of friends in the middle of the long corridor hallways. Without any greeting, any spoken words, he’s dragging you to his room right in front of everyone to see. His hand around yours like it was two days prior, but with an expression so grave on his sullen face.

The silence between you two brings no comfort, but you don’t dare say the first words. Doyoung, finally, approached you first in public and it is possibly for a greater reason. Perhaps you’ve done something horribly wrong, and the moment you two step into his room that you’ll hear a mouthful.

However when he closes the door to his room, your hand immediately drops from his embrace and he turns to face you. There is a darkness in his eyes, one that light cannot touch, and his lips are tight in a line.

There is an eerie silence that fills the dark room and the murky windows paint the area an ominous green. Doyoung focuses on your confused, yet adorable expression. “Why did you lie to me?”

The door catches your slight stumble and you’re blinking cluelessly at him. “About what?”

“Jaehyun.” He breathes the name in spite and aggressively loosens his tie. “He didn’t blow you off. You rejected him and he’s telling everyone it's because you’re in love with someone else.”

You scorn at such a ridiculous rumor and for the fact that it’s even made its way around to Doyoung. Another realization hits you. All it took for him to approach you in public is a meaningless rumor.

So in response, you laugh and it mocks him further. “This is not a laughing matter, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, but why are you so upset at that? Fine. I did lie to you, but I never told Jaehyun I was in love with anyone else.”

“Are you in love with someone else?” Doyoung says with balled fists at his side. There is a mixture of anger and sadness running through his veins and he’s so sick of feeling this way.

Your hesitation speaks for you, “It’s better that you don’t know.”

“You say this every time and it does nothing to ease my conscience.” Doyoung throws his hands in the air and stares at you with sharp eyes. “Is that why you were afraid that my emblem wouldn’t show up? Because your heart belongs to another. Yeah, I heard Jaehyun wanted to mark you too.”

Men and their constant want to prove something to themselves with their marks. Everyone has a twisted reality of markings now. There have been many others who have tried to mark you, feeling as if lust would be enough to suffice its appearance. As one's Patronus is special to their own protection, a beloved’s Patronus mark holds the same value.

You’re quite at a loss for words, “I was afraid that it wouldn’t show up, not because of myself, but because of you.”

Doyoung points at himself in disbelief. Him? He loves you more than anyone he’s ever encountered, even if you didn’t know it. “I wouldn’t have almost tried it if I wasn’t sure of myself.”

“You don’t love me, Doyoung. I don’t even know if I can even say you romantically like me.” Those words hurt the both of you and it lingers in the room for longer than you’d like.

“Do you think I fuck you meaninglessly like all those other losers you sleep with?” Doyoung steps forward, pulling you into his chest and admiring everything he’s fallen in love with. A pain spreads across his heart as he thinks of you with another person, of someone else kissing you, of someone else making you happy.

“You really don’t feel it in the way I kiss you?” He asks once more and your own stare drops to his shoulder, a bit ashamed to maintain eye contact with such pained eyes.

“And if I did? How would you explain that? That you are actually in love with me?” Your questions pelt him like rocks. As he pushes you on his bed, you pull him down with his tie.

Doyoung drinks you up like fresh water, a crisp and refreshing love that encourages him to reach heights. His hand cups your face and his feather touches reminds you of his gentleness. Your lips taste like sweet honey, dripping and coating him with a sticky sugar.

He’s happier with you and he’s the happiest kissing you. Perhaps, it’s hard for him to express with words, but he’d always hope his actions speak louder. So, his lips press against yours with a whirl of passion and every good feeling that grows in his chest.

The collar of his shirt is wrinkled in your fist and you’re holding him as if you’re afraid of him letting go. Doyoung runs a hand down your torso and lifts the end of your skirt up. A warm hand pushes your legs apart and a finger presses your clit through your cotton panties.

Your mouth opens into a moan and he takes this opportunity to shove his long tongue inside, lapping with your own. As a wet spot forms on your panties, he pulls them to the side and gathers the slick to gently rub your erect clit. His name is lost and muffled in the kiss, but you tap at his chest.

When he breaks away and halts all movement, he looks down over you with a fire burning in his dark orbs. And a confession falls from his swollen lips, “may I mark you?”

“And if it doesn’t show up?” Though, you’re wishing to the most powerful wizards that it does or else your heart would shatter into a million pieces beyond repair.

He bites his lip and every possible outcome scatters his thoughts. It’s too hard to concentrate, so he doesn’t at all. He focuses on your pretty lips and the way you look at him like he’s the only person that matters. “Then, we’ll deal with the consequences later.”

With your quick nod, Doyoung attaches his lips to your neck and harshly sucks at your skin. For the most part, it’s a pleasurable feeling and sends a shiver down your spine. So, he licks and nibbles until he can barely breathe. Your faint scent of patchouli and ginger intoxicates him, wraps him up in a fuzzy coziness that is unmatched.

Your hands unbutton his shirt and a final gentle bite seals his mark. If the love is reciprocated, the emblem would take a moment to form. Doyoung is rather hopeful and excited, as he’s never seen his Patronus before. “You look beautiful.”

“And you look dazed as if someone charmed you.” You giggle and kiss his red lips.

“You’re quite the powerful one, my Puff.” He smiles against your jaw before proceeding to your mess down below. He gives your aching clit a few licks, which cause your body to twist and turn at the sensitive sensation.

“Please, I haven’t felt you in so long.” Whining and tugging at his hair, Doyoung leaves a lasting kiss and gets up to remove his pants.

“Did you miss me?” Doyoung raises a suggestive eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in mockery, a smirk growing on his face.

You reply with a silly response that only he knows and causes him to chuckle, “unfortunately.” And he’s finding every way not to confess his endearments for you.

His dick stands tall and proud against his abdomen, giving it a few jerks as he watches you strip out of your own clothes. You turn around and sit on your knees, with a slight tilt forward and the arch in your back to accentuate your ass.

Doyoung rolls on the protection as quickly as he can. His hands lightly smack your cheeks and slowly enters your dripping hole. His hands grip your hips as he slides deeper into you, both being moaning messes at the delicious feeling.

“Have you always been this big?” You look back at him and to which he devilishly smiles at you.

“You know just the way to fuel my ego,” when his length is fully buried inside of your tight walls, he wraps an arm around your waist and a hand on your tit. “After all the times you’ve been fucked, your pussy is still as tight as ever.”

Doyoung slams hard into you, showing no mercy and causing you to jolt up. He takes every frustration, every feeling of anger, every ounce of jealousy into his thrusts. “But you take me so well, darling. I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.”

His compliments cause your heart to soar, despite the soreness you’re beginning to feel in your pussy. He’s relentless, bottoming out until his tip is practically in your guts. “Just like that, baby. You’re the only one who fucks me this good.”

He blushes under the low light and leans forward to kiss the top of your head. “My Puff, you’re so sweet to me.” The loud squelch of your tight pussy gripping his dick fills the hot room, “and so wet.”

You’re shamelessly dripping on his green velvet blanket and Doyoung picks up his speed. Your knees give out as you fall face forward into the mattress, hands in fists from the incredible pleasure of every hit. Your ass now in his full view and every tingle of magic lights up in his veins.

Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning, Doyoung holds your hips steady to thrust into a new angle. Automatically, your body twitches as his tip hits your special spot and he’s well aware that you’re close to releasing.

And with his fast thrusts, he asks you an intimate question that is fueled by envy and rage. “If I fuck you the best, then why do you sleep with other men?”

There are no thoughts in your mind to even give him a white lie, to mask the truth of your actions. He’s fucking you into an oblivion that it’s hard to even focus on anything besides pleasure. The books on his shelf begin to tremble as you’re crying out, “I- I don’t know! Fuck, please… ! I’m tipping over.”

“Answer the question or I will stop.” He’s absolutely cynical and you have every reason to believe his threat. Doyoung lifts your limp body upright, against his torso and an arm secured around your middle as before. His hand snakes to your clit, rubbing feathering circles over the neglected bud.

Nonetheless, his single action paired with his tip grazing harshly against the particular spot causes your legs to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” His threat rings in your ears when you still left him without an answer.

You’re so close, you’re starting to see white. So, you say what your heart tells you and the truth falls from your lips in a loud confession. “Because I wanted you to love me instead! I fucked them to forget about my love for you… fuck, I’m--”

“I’ve got you. Let go of yourself, baby.” Doyoung slows his hips when your walls squeeze around him sporadically. Every book flies out and hits the opposite wall, clattering the floor with heavy academia. However, he repeats your proclamation endlessly in his mind and his heart surges with the most intense romantic desires.

“I do love you, y/n.” He whispers, cumming into his rubber and simply holding you tightly. He lets go of every prideful arrogance in his body, tossing the lame reputation he always tried to hold onto. He didn’t need that if it meant losing you. Doyoung chuckles to himself for being an obvious cliché, announcing one’s love in the midst of a lustful act. He pulls out and gently tucks you into the covers.

Breathless, you’re finally realizing his confession. “You do? Are you sure?” Any subtle movements has your aching lower half in pain, so you settle with resting on his plush pillows and await for him to join you in bed.

All this time, from beginning to now, you’ve been oblivious to his yearning looks across the Great Hall. The intensity of his kisses had been lost upon you completely as you had convinced yourself that he was incompatibly of loving you back. Even now, as you lay in slight doubt, you’re wondering how you managed to have everything fly over your head. 

When he discards his used protection and with a quick flick of his wrist, every book finds its original place on the shelf again, he enters the warm covers. Your arms wrap around his neck and you’re admiring each other’s expressions in the low light. He spots the notable twinkle in your eyes and his thumb lightly rubs your cheek.

“If the symbol of my Patronus doesn’t show, I promise to love you harder until it does.” Doyoung leaves the softest, most loving kiss on your lips. He’s more than thankful for the lack of light as he’s bashfully red all over his cheeks.

“Usually, people just give up.” Your voice is harsh, possibly from the deafening screaming of pleasure prior.

Doyoung shakes his head. He’s made too many mistakes in this relationship with you. Sleeping with another. Ignoring your existence. Being too prideful to be seen with another house. All these incidents have made him feel nothing but ugliness and distraught, and pushed you away further than how much he is able to pull you back.

He loves you. He’s in love with you. He’s fallen for you recklessly as you did off your broom the first encounter. You’re everything he’s never been and never will be, yet you don’t care. You’re by his side, despite his spitefulness and you never miss a beat. That innocent youth approach to love, oh how he wishes it never faded, and though he thought it did, it didn’t. You remain true to your character when he fights with himself internally.

“That would be a mistake and I can’t afford to keep making them.” A glossy sheen over Doyoung’s regretful eyes, but you pull him closer and you refuse to let his eyes wander.

A tired harmless sigh escapes your lips and a dreamy haze overcomes you. Besides the reminder of needing to use the bathroom flashing in your mind, there is nothing else you want to dissect. Feelings are too complex to discuss at the moment and the resolve has already passed.

Regardless of the marks appearing, you’re content with the night and for the rest of your days. Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, loves you back and the power of that alone beats any spell in those dusty old textbooks.

“Why can’t we lay here forever?” Your heavy eyelids fall slowly and your voice grows small.

Doyoung kisses your shoulder, then your neck. “That’s impossible. I can’t give you forever.” He mumbles against your skin, sending vibrations across your throat.

“You are my forever.” Doyoung halts and is left speechless as a white glowing entity catches his eye. And the absolute perfect outline of his Patronus sits underneath your jaw, brightly shining with iridescent brilliance --- he makes out the outline: a White Swan, representing his love for you. Doyoung smiles to himself and hopes for it to never fade. Perhaps, he can give you forever.

some fun critical questions to think about hehe -

why do you think y/n lied to doyoung about jaehyun confessing? why do you think yuta helped y/n enter the Slytherin dormitories? what is the meaning behind the White Swan Patronus? Why do you think y/n continued to like doyoung after all this time?

there are no right or wrong answers, just something fun to have you thinking a little more about the fic haha if you want, you can send me an ask about it :) but overall, no pressure and thank you for reading! please leave me some feedback if you can! happy new year!

READ NEXT PART

[echo-of-sounds]

who cares if it’s cliche?

-Aizawa x gn!reader-

cute gif

This was a commission for @seraphicghost​! They asked for a fluffy/sweet scenario with the reader confessing in the rain plus a kiss. Thank you so much for the commission! This was super cute to write!

“Here’s your beer, boys!” Nemuri set the bottles down for Hizashi and Aizawa. She scooted in beside you, chirping, “And here’s your Sex in the Driveway.”

“Thanks,” you droned, choosing to ignore her suggestive eyebrow wiggle. She wasn’t one to let anyone live anything down, and now that she noticed, it has only gotten worse.

Hizashi chugged his beer, then slammed it rather loudly. “Alright! Sho, I’ve shown up at work high, I’ve had a one-night stand with Nemuri, and I’ve never been on a rollercoaster.”

“The former.”

“What? How’d you figure that out so quickly?!”

“Hizashi,” both you and Aizawa said, telling him to control his volume. Aizawa finished flatly, “You can’t not talk about everything you do. You’d tell me something like that. Not to mention how useless you are high. The entire school would’ve noticed.”

You hid your smile behind your drink. The faint smirk that lifted Aizawa’s lips fluttered your chest, spinning into your stomach. If only he let himself smile more, experience happiness more, then you could see his handsome smile more. Dark eyes flicked to yours, flustering your heated heart further.

You had to look away and drink some water. You were an adult. He shouldn’t be making you flashback to high school crushes and wistful, young romance.

The game continued for a few more rounds, eventually petering out. Nemuri leaned against you. Alcohol swarmed from her sigh. Pink flushed her cheeks, sticking hair to skin. She mumbled into her glass before finishing it, “I think it’s time to head home.”

“I’ll get a ride.” You clicked on your phone, and it wasn’t long till it beeped: “Car’s here.”

Sooner than you could even move a leg, Hizashi jumped up, swooping an arm around Nemuri’s waist. “I’ll bring her home. You two have fun.”

“Hizashi,” you called after him. He didn’t acknowledge you as he escorted her outside.

They just abandoned you with Aizawa, who was already looking at you when you glanced over. You went to take a drink. The empty glass prevented that. Lemon slices and ice taunted you, laughing that your last barrier between you two was gone. You set the cup down with a sigh.

Shouta nodded at it, “Want another drink?”

“Sure.”

You were once again beaten to your feet; He stood and took the glass. “Same thing?”

“Yeah, another Sex-” Your voice flatlined upon meeting his eyes. Despite the shadow under them, the red in them, and the heavy brow above, their sudden sharpness took your breath, completely unlike their usual dull and dry tone. The change nailed your brain useless.

“More sex?” His lips lifted ever so slightly. When no sound escaped your hanging mouth, he goaded, “More sex then.”

You slumped in the chair, holding your too-fast heart, replaying the bumbling. Saying ‘sex’ while being within two feet of his face, able to discern the bristles of his beard, a crack in his bottom lip, how attractive- Stop. If you couldn’t grow up and say something to him, then don’t bother thinking it.

A blue drink was placed in front of you. It was only your second, yet combined with the tickling in your neck and the bite in your chest, it felt like you were four or five in.

Shouta retook his seat across from you. Whatever you were feeling, anxiety or infatuation, that weighed your heart, lightened with his soft smile. It reached up to a soar when he asked about your most recent patrol.

Thankfully, the conversation from there flowed smoothly. You could keep up with no fumbling and simply enjoy your time with him. And you even got to see a couple more smiles, though they were faint. Every single one made thoughts echo inside: Just ask. It’s not that hard. Just ask! It made it difficult to focus on his words.

Once you finished your drink, your body, while light, lagged tired. You spoke through a yawn, “I’m gonna head out, Sho.”

“Need a cab?”

“No. I actually think I’m going to walk. It’s a pleasant night.” You stood and zipped up your sweatshirt.

He mirrored you and fixed his scarf. It wasn’t his Hero one, just a simple dark gray one, still allowing him ample room to nuzzle into it. Plus, it made him look reasonably fashionable compared to how he typically dressed. He grabbed your wallet from the table, holding it out for you, “I paid for the drink upfront.”

“Shouta, you didn’t need to do that.���

“No big deal,” he shrugged it off.

Yes, it was. If the others were here, you doubted- No. You knew he wouldn’t have done that.

You accepted your wallet and his kindness, muttering on the way out, “Thank you.”

The stroll home started quietly. Gusts blew your hood around. Shouta maneuvered to the outside of the sidewalk, so he was between you and traffic. Your elbows bumped every few steps. Neither of you commented or changed positions, letting it keep happening. If anything, you wanted to step closer to feel the emitting from his body.

Water dripped down the back of your sweatshirt, startling you. The single droplet increased to a steady rain in seconds. You hugged your hood and yourself. He nudged your arm and nodded to a nearby drugstore. It wasn’t much. But it was shelter.

Inside, Shouta slicked his hair back. Pale fingers combed through thick black, unveiling a sharp jaw and lovely scruff; too stunning to always hide under a mess of hair. The wet strands struggled to fit into an elastic. With enough finagling, they finally pulled into place, leaving room for the darkened line on his cheekbone to stick out. Just like his eyes did…

Which were staring at you. Dammit. You turned into an aisle, searching for anything interesting that wasn’t him. All it would take was a handful of sentences then he would know. If he reciprocated, all would be grand; your worry was for naught. However, if he didn’t, the plague of dread that’s accompanied the crush would crash. Never knowing felt like the better option.

You walked the main aisle. There were pool toys, makeup, hygiene, sex toys that you vehemently avoided, fearing Shouta would see the smallest glance towards them. A pair of fleece socks got your attention. The inside was incredibly fluffy and thick. The outside had kitty pawprints designed all over them.

“These are cute,” you smiled and showed them to the approaching Shouta.

He grunted and continued. It didn’t hide the fact you knew he thought them cute as well. Cats were the only things he gave into.

You combed the rest of the rows of items. Not one thing piqued your interest enough to buy. You searched for Shouta, finding him at the checkout, buying a pack of gum and some migraine relief pills. He lifted his brow.

You answered the silent question, “Didn’t see anything special.”

“Not even the cat socks?”

“If I’m still thinking about them in a few days, I’ll come back for them,” you smiled.

After thanking the cashier, your walk home resumed. The rain had stopped, leaving everything glossy and smelling of the earth. It lifted the air between yours and his shoulders.

Thick fingers extended a piece of gum. His eyes remained on the sidewalk when you took it and thanked him. The fresh mint sent a little chill down your back, frosting your mouth as you watched him, thinking, ‘Now was a perfect time. No one’s around. You just need to say it. A few sentences and you’re done.’

The instant your mouth opened, rain poured, loud and heavy. Your hood provided sparse protection.

Shouta grumbled into his scarf, “So much for a nice night.”

“Sorry… But you didn’t have to walk with me, you know? You could’ve called for a ride.”

His eyebrows scrunched with a groan.

“Here’s your turn, anyway. Get home fast,” you called over the pattering, nodding towards the left turnoff. The top of his apartment peaked out over the smaller buildings.

“It’s late. I’ll walk you home,” he grumbled again. His voice carried much less complaint this time and more concern.

Both of you picked up the pace, fast-walking down the sidewalks and hustling across the streets.

Only at your door did you face Shouta, not caring about being soaking wet anymore. He was closer than you expected, nearly bumping into his chest. You looked to his mouth, unable to make it to his eyes, unsure if you wanted to see them this close. You surprised yourself with how steady your voice sounded, “Do you want to come inside? Drink something warm?”

“I’m alright. Just wanted to make sure you got home alright.”

“I did. Thank you.” Your legs didn’t move. It’d be a whole lot warmer, calmer, dryer inside. “I know Hizashi drags you out to these things, but I still hope you had fun tonight.”

“I did.” His flat face gave you no emotional indicators.

“Good, I’m glad.” You said your goodbyes, yet your feet stayed put. Water soaked through all of your clothing. Goosebumps pricked down your arms. The rain vaguely obscured the handsome features you’ve been ogling at, wishing to call them yours.

He spun and took five steps away before you mustered, “Shouta?”

He faced you, waiting, half scowling, probably, hopefully, due to the rain.

“There’s something I’d like- There’s something I want- I want you to know. It’s okay if you don’t- If you’re not on the same page as me. I just- just…” Just say it. It was only a few words. You sucked in, preparing yourself mentally, emotionally, and physically for the absolute worst outcome, then spoke as confident as you could, “I just think you’re- I wanted to tell you that I’m-” Your heart heated as you finished, “I’m interested in you… more than a friend.”

The downpour built. You could no longer see his face. His mouth mumbled something. Unable to hear, you shuffled close, wiped water from your face, and asked him to repeat himself.

Shouta closed the tiny gap between your chests. You could only look at his mouth. This time though, you wanted to meet his eyes. It was the damn rain preventing that.

A finger lifted your chin. Instinct lowered your eyelids. The rain ceased on your face as lips connected to yours. They pressed unexpectedly sweetly, only to curl into a smirk and pull away.

You matched his smile, struggling to hold in the laugh, “A kiss in the rain, Shouta? Don’t you think it’s kinda cliche?”

“Who cares?” The hold on your chin tightened a bit and guided you back to him. All the anxiety bubbled up, popping and releasing as a giggle. Weight freed from your shoulders. You cupped his cheeks, kissing back with new excitement.

[angelkurenai]

Break those rules - Dean Winchester x Reader

Title: Break those rules

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: Hey! So this is my attempt at making a request: DeanxReader where feelings have not been expressed yet. They're just researching some stuff together. The reader absent mindedly smiles when they're reading something. Deano notices. Then he just kind of jabbers about how adorable the reader's smile is. End with a kiss and finally expressed feelings maybe? I wrote a short little writing prompt kind of like this on my blog. (It's near the bottom if you want a better idea for the request) Thanks! xxx

“I don't get why Sam has to get away with only three hours of research and I am stuck here for the fifth hour. In a row.” Dean said with a rather heavy, and even more dramatic, sigh as he flipped open another book and rested his chin on his palm.

“Stuck here huh? Wow, way to make me, and the company I offer you, feel so flattered, Winchester.” you said as you looked up at him through your lashes. He couldn't see much of your face as you kept focus on the book before you but that didn't mean he couldn't hear the obvious playfulness that laced your voice or nearly feel, let alone imagine, the small smirk that tucked at the corner of your lips.

“You know what I mean.” and still, despite your easiness, he couldn't help but feel a pang in his chest if only for the pout you gave him – playful or not – and he rushed to speak again “To tell you the truth, being in your company does make it ten times better and always worth it, but-” he raised a finger “That's still not enough to make up for...” he looked down at the books, his face a mix between horror, disgust and exhaustion as he said “This. And besides, we're not even making progress as it is. Field work could do much more or say if it was more than just the two of us here, there could be en end to... this.”

“This-” you tried to mimic his tone “Is what we can only do now, I am afraid, no field work left. And to answer your previous question: Sam gets away with three hours because he's already read through his part of books. Meanwhile you are stuck over that book for the past hour. And you're not going anywhere before you read the rest either. Stop stalling.”

“Then stop being so distracting, for a change yeah?” he couldn't help but mumble as he rested his chin on his palm and slid a little bit down his seat.

“How? I didn't even start this in the first place!” you protested, eyes wide.

But certainly not as wide as his when he realized the words had really slipped past his lips “What- n-no, I- I didn't-” he started but actually stopped himself “Well, actually-” he felt bold, maybe even looked like it and hopefully - he prayed to any deity that didn't hold a grudge on him and that was listening - that he looked confident as he imagined in his head; or at least the part of his head where he wasn't freaking out “You heard me. It would be much easier to focus if you weren't so distracting.”

“Do tell? And what is so distracting about what I said? Seeing as you were the one to start this conversation.” you asked with a small smirk, ready to sass him out of anything that he could come up with, just like you'd done so many times before. Or so you expected.

“Nothing.” he shrugged, face mostly neutral save for the casual half smile “It's not what you said. It's not anything you did either. It's just you being you. You're distracting. I just look at you and get carried away in an instant. Sometimes you're so distracting I can't even get my thoughts in an order, let alone focus on research. So, no, really you are the only one to blame here. But ain't that in the best way possible, huh sweetheart?” he asked with his smile turning into a grin.

He was proud at himself for getting it all out without a single stutter and even more praising himself deep down for not showing any of the panic he was feeling, slip through. Because oh there were all kinds of red lights and sirens going off in his head at the moment; he was freaking out not only at this newfound surge of bravery but also at the words that were really coming out of his lips in this very moment. Why now, when after all this time he had held them back along with his infatuation- schoolgirl crush, Sam would say and he would be 100% right about it even if Dean never admitted it out loud. And even more he was proud with himself for - by whatever miracle - how it did sound like he was flirting and not struggling to be a human. So much so that he huffed his chest out a bit, thinking that if today was the day - and it seemed so because of how he really was on a roll - then so be it. He had not had any previous signs to you being interested in him as he was in you, sure, and for that he feared he probably was simply stupid and not brave but there was really no taking it back now and for the first time he didn't feel like it.

“I-” you started, blinking several times as you looked at him carefully an for a couple dreadful moments of silence when he nearly felt like caving in because of his panic, Dean held his breath, and listened as you spoke up again “Are you for real? I- I mean are you- Dean-” you huffed, your eyebrows pulling into a frown and your lips almost forming a pout that was the exact definition of distracting he was referring to “Seriously, this is not funny at all. If you wanna joke around here then-”

“Joke?” he breathed out before you could get to continue with your words, let alone thoughts “Why would I? No, no. I'm being absolutely honest here.” he shrugged so casually he might have patted himself on the shoulder for the achievement if you weren't there, and if he wasn't so distracted once more by seeing the way your eyes widened and you then blinked before looking down shyly.

And he continued “Sweetheart, I don't get to tell you often and shame on me for that but with Sammy all the time in the way I can't express myself so I'm just gonna go ahead and say it: You're so beautiful that everything you do is distracting to me, even just being in my presence. Sometimes you struggle with that, I get it, given the job we do. But don't let anyone tell you different, because all of it only makes you even more special. Thought-” he shrugged with an easy smile, looking back at his book as if it was nothing, as if he wasn't in a struggle with his very own self to just look at you at all time just to not miss a single reaction “You should probably know that. Not that you're not already aware but I suppose... since we're making small talk. And just so that I let you know, that there is nobody else I'd rather be stuck doing research with.”

Your lips fell apart and the soft sound of “Oh. Oh I- oh.” escaped past them before silence set in the room, one that he enjoyed a little too much as he looked up at you through his lashes only to see you shift and play nervously with your clothes or the pages of your book. You kept opening and closing your mouth before you ended up clearing your throat and straightened your back to look straight at him.

He did the same, meeting your eyes with the most straight face he could master “Yes? Something the matter?”

“No, I- I just- Well-” you cleared your throat again, shifting in your seat “Thank you for- for...”

“For?” he inquired and you shot him a half-hearted glare that melted so soon into the sweetest look he ad ever seen on your face.

“That. What you said. You know what you just said. I don't have to repeat it.” you said so fast, a small huff leaving your lips “A-and I appreciate it. So thank you for it.” your eyes fluttered down to your hands before you shifted in your place “But still-” you gave him a stern look as if to brush the whole topic off; it was the easiest thing when you didn't know how to respond and your whole face felt as if it was on fire “That ain't gonna cut down any research for you. You've gotta get through those books and you won't leave this place until you're done.”

“I wasn't looking for any special treatment.” he shrugged all innocent.

“Good.” you said stubbornly “Bause you ain't getting it. So quit the sweet-talking me and get back to work.”

“Fine, fine!” he raised his arms in surrender, looking down at the book but not stopping the mumbling, loud enough for you to hear “Since when did speaking the truth turn into sweet-talking, I had no idea.”

“Quit it, Winchester. Or else I'll throw this book at you and it will definitely not be a happy ending for you.” you tried to say seriously, putting on a stern face but only for the sake of seeming determined and unaffected; despite what your eyes told him at that moment.

“Fine, fine.” he sighed dramatically “Not that I'm stalling but you just should wear those jeans more oft-” he paused when you narrowed your eyes at him and he rolled his “Alright. They look great on you but I get it. No telling the truth today. Back to work.”

“You're unbelievable sometimes.” this time you scoffed a laugh, shaking your head and he didn't fight his own grin especially as you muttered “Idiot.” at him.

He hummed, this time not looking up at you as he whispered “I am.” and let the comfortable silence fill the room, calming the both of you as you went back to work. Dean even more so than you because - as far as he was concerned - he needed it more than anything.

Surprised and proud as he was at himself for getting all of that out, he still was a mess of emotions all of which refused to die down, and could feel his heart hammering in his chest, his pulse so intense that he felt it to the end of his very own fingertips. And better not get started with the way he could feel a familiar heat spread all the way up his neck, to the tips of his ears and dangerously close to the rest of his face, making him wish that it was at least not obvious to anyone that would look, which really only meant you.

With his head still very much in the clouds, feeling high and dizzy on emotions if not somewhat filled with the aftermath of adrenaline from what could only be an almost-confession, he found himself only skipping through the words, barely paying any attention to them. His fingers played with the pages as he basked in the warmth and comfortable feeling of this newfound silence. It was like coming home after a long time and soaking in the comfortable and familiar warmth of one's bed.

As the words before his eyes blurred for what seemed like, at least, the tenth time in only a couple minutes, he decided that that was it. His mind was running with so many thoughts that he couldn't help it; he wanted to steal another look at you after this endless and at the same time too short silence. Chewing on his lower lip he slowly tore his eyes away from the text and took a good look at you, shameless about it as he should be, as he had every right to be and he wouldn't let anybody tell him otherwise. He was in love, goodness how crazy it was to even think about it, and by the looks of it – by some crazy chance even better – it seemed like there was hope for him that you might feel something for him too.

So why even try to hold back from taking it all in?

The grin on his face only got wider, much as he tried to hold it back, when he saw you pause. Your eyes clearly moved away from the page, deep in thought and with your chin resting on top of your palm. You could very easily hide it if you wanted to, but that didn't seem the case and so Dean could see fully the beautiful smile that graced your lips. Whether it was at something you had just read or because of something he'd previously said he didn't know and frankly it didn't matter. Because the moment he saw that smile his entire mind went blank, there was nothing that it could come up with... unlike his mouth, that is, which had plenty to say apparently.

Gosh how can that smile not turn even the worst tortures to the sweetest thing in the world? It's just so damn beautiful, that I know there's not a single thing I wouldn't do for it. Hell, the moment I saw it for the first time I knew I was a gonner, fell stupidly head over heels for you as anybody else would and the more I got to know you, the more I got to see that smile the more clear it was to me that those feelings were there to stay. And so they have. I knew I would do anything in my power to see it again but to go to such extents? “Hell, sweetheart, I'd climb over freakin' mountains just for that smile and I ain't just getting poetic, you know I never could. There are always different kinds to it that I don't know how you do it but this- this right here is my favorite. It's so free and so true and so damn adorable and you almost try to hide it sometimes and shit that makes me angry at who could have ever made you believe it is not gorgeous enough to show but also so damn stubborn too, to take it upon myself to make you smile like that every freakin' day of your life. I won't get shit done, I know, because it's just so distracting but heavens-” he breathed out, not clear where the air even came from after all the rambling “That smile is worth all of the stars, sweetheart.”

A heavy albeit not uncomfortable, by any means, silence hangs in the room once more after Dean's done with his rambling. He didn't even realize it as the word poured out of his lips, heavens out of his very own heart and soul is better, right there for you to hear, just as he didn't realize the second you stopped looking at the book. Your eyes were currently on him, wide and beautiful as always, blinking in surprise even after you thought that there was nothing that Dean could do that could surprise you more today.

But as the realization downed on Dean, it didn't leave a pleasant shock but rather a chilling one; the same one would get after an ice bucket being dumped on them. Not that he was willing to let you know that, so instead he gave you an awkward smile and asked “...Did I just say that out loud?”

He did, after all, hope that by some high power you hadn't heard a thing and that it was all still words in his head and not a confession – although very much needed – probably poorly-timed.

“I-” your lips parted as you blinked several times in disbelief “Y-yes-” your voice cracked a little “Yes you actually did.”

“O-oh o-ok c-cool.” but not as much as his did, before he cleared his throat “Cool. That's uh terrific... Embarrass myself more than I have in my entire life in the span of half an hour. Way to go Dean.” he mumbled the last part to himself as he looked away from you and down at his book with wide eyes.

“I mean I-” you chewed on your lower lip before you straightened your back a bit more and look at him with a bit more confidence “I would have interrupted you but for one I wanted to hear all of it, seeing how adorable you were being it was a sight for sore eyes, and for another there is a date rule I must keep up with so-” you shrugged but it was anything but innocent with the smile you were sporting.

Not that any of it mattered, because one thing registered above all “Dating? What dating? And what kind of rules?”

“Sadly we don't have a dictionary here but I'm sure you can guess, pretty boy. And as for rules well it goes like: kiss on the first date, everything else after the third date.” you rested your chin on your palm again and looked him in the eyes “Wouldn't wanna break that one, no matter how tempted I was to shut you up with a kiss, you bloody idiot.”

“...You're kidding me right now, right?” his eyes were wide and he only managed to get the words out after a good few seconds of silence. Minutes probably.

“Alright, yes, maybe we do need that dictionary. Listen, I'm gonna put it as simple as possible and pray that that wonderfully smart yet so very stupid brain of yours gets it: You take me out on a date and you can get to be as distracted as you wanted by my smile. Stare at it, kiss it away only to kiss it back up on my lips. Anything you want. Because I've been waiting for too freaking long for you to say these things and I'm done beating around the bush. I am coming clean. I have feelings for you too, Dean.”

Again silence before “...As in for real?”

“Couldn't get any more real. Always had them.” you smiled, this time actually shyly at him.

Pause, a long pause actually, and he blinked rapidly before asking “This is really not you trying to, I don't know, let me down easily or something?”

“Absolutely not, why would I? I meant everything I say.”

“So that means-” he actually held his breath, feeling his head beat so hard it would almost break out of his chest “Are we... you know?”

Your smile turned into a more teasing one, almost a smirk as you shrugged “Only after the first date.”

“So if I did happen to ask you out now, you would...?” he had to be sure this wasn't some kind of dream.

“Say it would be my pleasure.” you nodded your head.

“And- one more question, just-” he raised a finger, taking a calming breath in even if it was a bit shaky “...So long as there's say beer and maybe burgers that's...?”

“The perfect kind of date for me, you know i-”

“Awesome!” his eyes widened and he jumped up from his seat with a grin on his face.

“But not while doing research!” you said fast enough before he could get much further away “No beer and burgers while researching is not a date.”

“Not even a little?” he asked and you shook your head “...Then can research itself maybe be?”

“Absolutely not.” you said despite the pout he was giving you. It did make things harder.

“...But what if I maybe, really wanna get a kiss right now? What do I have to do to get that kiss?”

“Guess what?” you grinned and you could see the hope in his eyes before you made it vanish into thin air “Research!”

“More books, yay!” he said with a huff, his arms falling by his side as he made his way back to his seat “Of course it's books.” he groaned and you couldn't help your grin “But really... nothing else? I know your smile makes it all worth it but honey... this is the worst kind of torture!”

“Alright you big child come here. Can't believe you're making me break my rules.” you sighed with a shake of your head “Just one, for getting this far with research, as a reward.”

“Oh you know I love rewards.” he grinned “How about one about every book I read? And if it ends up otherwise, oh well, Sammy can handle the case alone right?”

“Don't push your luck, Winchester.”

[artisticflutter]

Winter

It’s the faaabulous time of year again where we post for @mlsecretsanta~ And this year, my giftee is @coffeegrindsandautumnbreezes who wanted something sweet and Juleka-centric. Please enjoy~

Rating: General Audiences Genre: Friendship, Family Bonding, Slice of life Pairing(s): None Summary: Juleka has some introspective while filling in on a re-shoot for Gabriel. Warning: Minor mentions of “Reflekdoll”, beta’d by PocketNoivern

“Are you sure about this Juleka? I’d understand if you’re not comfortable.”

“No, it’s alright. I offered to do this.”

A nod, but her mouth thinned all the same. Peridot eyes twinkled however, and he smiled so easily.

“Okay, but tell me if you ever start feeling overwhelmed at all?”

“Mmm… thanks Adrien.”

He really was too kind; Juleka was grateful for his friendship and she could see why Marinette’s infatuation with him remained after so long. Of course, she was - in general - grateful to both of them for this opportunity at all. It had been Marinette’s suggestion that he ask her about modeling again (she wondered if it was to make up for last time, but really, that hadn’t been Marinette’s fault). It’s possible Marinette knew she had needed the extra euro and what’s more, it would be experience for her resumé. She intended on thanking them both properly when she could and the opportunity to hang out with a friend that could probably do with the change of pace himself.

Well, if helping her again was a change for him. Considering the circumstance, it probably wasn’t. After all, someone as patient as Adrien should’ve been able to work with someone as flexible as Lila, but therein was the reason for the winter re-shoot and Juleka getting this break at all. 

She’d think about the details later, and instead, try to focus on posing.

Her usual make-up? Removed and replaced with natural tones. She herself provided enough contrast to the neutral, but brighter and warmer tones of the winter attire she had to wear. There was also a matter of the location - the Pont Alexandre III blocked off just for this. The purpose today was to accentuate warmth in the cold, first a series of solo shots and then a few couple poses - the idealistic and romantic comfort when the temperature dropped. She’d done similar shoots with him before - maybe that’s why Marinette suggested her first? No, part of her tone had still sounded apologetic.

So far, it was going well; or at least, she was satisfying Vincent’s demands, but then everyone seemed to tense when Vincent called for Adrien to join her.

“Are they expecting an akuma?” she asked when he stood next to her.

He shot her a sheepish look. “Ah… yes and no? These days, they’re always worried about an akuma delaying us, but… er, Lila wasn’t following directions when we got to this part. I’d say that’s pretty standard considering how often I have to work with her now.”

“Oh… that’s weird.”

Lila being unprofessional? That didn’t sound right, but if Adrien was saying that… Then perhaps her perception wasn’t as off as she thought.

“Yes! Warm couple, show me winter love! That… cold hot passion! Close, but no! Shy, waiting to bloom! Perfetto!”

“I think I get it…” Juleka mumbled, taking hold of Adrien’s hand, but looking down.

“Really? Most people don’t.”

She heard the shutter going off.

“When you take a walk in winter with someone, you’re close, but not too close,” Juleka started, pausing as they changed poses. “You’re enjoying the cold and the quiet with company instead of talking in the sun and warmth. You think about the return home together, sitting by a fire, or wrapping up in a blanket and don’t linger...”

“Yeah, that’s right…!” Adrien paused as they stood close together, huddled with her shoulder to his arm as they both ducked their heads and pretended to be caught in a sudden snowfall. “It’s definitely a more restrained display of love outside during winter that’s not just limited to romantic couples. You think about things like this a lot, don’t you Juleka?”

“... Maybe.”

She wasn’t asked about her opinions or thoughts all that often, and she knew it had much to do with the way she dressed and musical tastes. Not that she’d ever say it out loud, but she was a bit of a romantic and had her interests that seemed counter to her rock lifestyle. For example, she would rather write poetry than music lyrics, and this too, she wanted to model instead of play music. There was plenty still that she didn’t grasp, but to try understanding more complex feelings she didn’t fully comprehend, she observed people, thought plenty about moments in time, and the experience they must have in that instant. As well, she could look at couples and visualize their connections almost. Perhaps it wasn’t the same as how her brother could hear people’s heart songs, but she’d like to think she had enough sense. 

Like in this moment, Adrien came off to her as ‘ease’ and ‘comfortable’, contrasting how stressed he’d been growing at school - or perhaps, it was better to say he was becoming stressed at life. It was unfortunate; she didn’t think she was the person to ask him about it. Hopefully Nino or Marinette would notice.

“Now, Juleka, you are winter blossom. I need… yes! Smile, just like that! Yes, yes!”

It was just a subtle expression she was giving the camera, but she did wonder how it did look on his end. She couldn’t see Adrien’s expression either, but it still felt like he was enjoying himself. Good; she was happy to know he didn’t mind her company.

A few more shots and a few more poses (the closest to uncomfortable was a small cheek kiss, but it was only one shot) had Vincent snapping up to a straight spine stand and lowering his camera.

“That! Was magnifico! I need her for more shoots, Adrien! You bring her again!”

“If that’s alright with her. She’s not officially contracted, but if you tell my father…”

“Ah, yes! I will have a word with Nathalie!”

Vincent was off in a shot while Juleka remained standing, watching the crew begin to remove the extra lighting that had been set up in assumption they’d continue longer. She accepted Adrien’s hand when extended her way and his escort back to the dressing tent. He looked, and felt, so elated that Juleka couldn’t keep herself from smiling back as he spoke, “That was great, Juleka! One of the best shoots we’ve had! I wish we could’ve talked more, but I hope Luka likes his gift.”

“Thank you, Adrien. And I know he will.”

Even if he managed to get a new one already, but that would just mean having two instead of none. “I had fun too. If you need me to fill in again, or if Vincent insists on that next shoot, just ask.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Letting go of her hand, he waved as he retreated to his own dressing tent. Meanwhile, she stood and stared, considering many things about the energy now exuding from him and how it proceeded to dim. How curious, but again, she wasn’t close enough to ask for details. She wouldn’t mind getting close in the future, especially if working together might become common; he seemed like the person who’d appreciate more friends and she rather liked having brighter personalities around. 

Turning, she was in and out of her tent in moments, taking particular care to make sure the designer clothes were hung properly before stepping back out. There, the make-up artist handed her the agreed pay for the late-minute fill-in - there was more than originally negotiated. However, glancing up, there she saw Adrien peering around Nathalie as she spoke to Vincent. He grinned, waving slightly again, and mouthed ‘Joyeux Noel’. Of course she mouthed ‘Joyeux Noel’ back before heading on her way.

Down the ways towards Champs-Élysées, Luka was waiting for her to arrive having stayed to watch her and walk with her home. He could’ve at least gone and waited inside a cafe to keep warm, but no. Hopefully his fingers weren’t cold considering his fingerless gloves, but knowing him, he’d probably lost track of time strumming his guitar. Stopping as she approached and raising his head, he beamed brightly. “Hey Jules… Sounds like you had fun. Did Adrien treat you well?”

“Mmm, he made sure I was comfortable, and if I had any issues, he was ready to help,” she answered, knowing that her brother already knew.

“His heart is still suppressing its true ballad. I’m glad things went well,” he said, packing his guitar back into its case. Standing up, he slung it over his shoulder and nodded. “Ready to head home, or do you have any other stops to make?”

“... Not right now. Let’s walk home, it looks like it will really snow soon.”

“Yeah, that’s true… Ah, wait.”

He turned to the railing and picked up two to-go mugs, turning back to her with a grin as he held one out. “Mom will likely have something bigger, but cheers to a successful shoot. One step closer to the dream.”

“Thanks, Luka…”

Accepting her cup, it was still warm between both hands. Then, he had gone to a cafe moments before - ah, he’d called when they would be wrapping up. One day, she’d like to be that intuitive and thoughtful. For now, she walked alongside him in comfortable silence, enjoying the wafted aroma of vanilla and chai, and making plans on getting him that pedal tuner she spotted in the music store. After that… the best Merry Christmas thank yous she could think of.

[ve1vetyoongi]

heart of gold (blades of ice) | ksj

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: fluff, smut, angst.

Au: christmas!au, figure skater!oc, hockey player!seokjin

Word count: 20k

Summary: After a fall during figure skating practice dashes your dreams of competing at nationals, you vow to hang up your skates for good. That is until you cross paths with Kim Seokjin, captain of the ice hockey team, who is determined to get you back out on the rink and melt the ice in your heart.

Warnings: unprotected penetrative sex (don’t risk it protect ur biscuit kids), fingering, nipple play, handjobs, fluffy smut, mentions of panic/anxiety, cavity inducing fluff, all the cheesy Christmas cliches we know and love and also probably a number of terrible skating/ice hockey inaccuracies pls forgive me lol i tried.

Disclaimer: although some parts of this fic take place when the characters are teenagers, all smut takes place when they are legal, consenting adults!

A/N: hello 🥺 it’s been a while but i finally finished writing this fic for @jamaisjoons’ 12 days of bangtan collab! (link to be added bc tumblr sucks) I had so much fun writing something fluffy for a change (although there’s some angst in there too for all you sadists who ask me for more of that) and it really got me into the Christmas spirit this year so i rlly hope it can do the same for you 🥺🎄 a big merry Christmas to all of you guys, thank you for being here with me through 2019 and pls don’t forget to check out all the other amazing collab fics!! all the love hehe ~ 💞

You spot your best friend Seulgi sat on the bleachers immediately. Her red hair stands out like a sore thumb against the white glare of the campus ice rink.

It's mid November and the cold wind that whispers over your skin as you watch skaters glide past on the ice paints the tip of your nose a rosy pink, even with a scarf wrapped tightly around it. Seulgi doesn't seem bothered by the temperature, wearing nothing but a pale blue bodysuit and tights all while stuffing her feet into a pair of polished ice skates nonchalantly as you climb the steps.

Seulgi doesn't even have to look up to know it's you when you slump down beside her. You've been best friends since the age of five and she would recognise the frustrated sigh you let out beside her in an instant.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice quips, chastising enough to finally pull your eyes away from the rink. You don't respond, stubbornly slinging your chapped hands into your coat pocket and avoiding her gaze until you feel a gentle hand on your arm. "I thought you said you weren't going to torture yourself anymore, Y/N."

You finally turn to look at her. There's a flick of silver liner on her lids that sparkles like tiny snowflakes against her dark lashes. She looks like she belongs in one of those figure skating magazines you used to ponder over as a kid. Like she belongs here, belongs on the ice.

You belonged here too, once. Before the accident.

The accident. 

The accident that destroyed your dreams of competing as a professional skater. The one that every single competitive figure skater at the rink whispers about in the locker rooms when you aren't around. The accident that turned the looks of astonishment and wonder you used to receive as you whirled around the ice into nothing but half smiles and pity as you now stand beside it.

Seulgi is looking at you like that right now, her puckered bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she searches your face for any sign of brokenness. You focus on steadying the rise and fall of your breath, letting the ache that seems to permanently stab at your chest these days whenever you're reminded of just how much you miss skating float away with the wisps of condensation that leave your lips with every exhale of chilly air.

"Trying to stay away was worse," You shrug. "I like being close to the ice."

"That's what you said last week before you had a panic attack after I slipped in the middle of my routine," Seulgi crosses her arms over her chest. "What if it happens again?"

"I'm feeling better, really." You manage to look her in the eyes, attempting to sound as convincingly sincere as possible.

"Fine. But don't make me say I told you so." She tucks your hair behind your ear before she's distracted again. "Hey, don't look now but Jimin's heading this way!" Seulgi squeals, fixing her hair hurriedly. 

She crosses and uncrosses her legs before settling into a position she deems natural and alluring, though it just makes her look stiff. "Do I look okay?"

You let out a puff of laughter. Seulgi has been head over heels for Jimin for as long as you can remember. You disapprove for the most part since Jimin has a reputation for being a world renowned ass but what with her being the most envied figure skater at the rink after winning a gold medal at nationals and him being the top ranked ice hockey player on campus, it only seemed like a matter of time before they would "team up". And Seulgi seems determined to make it happen before the year is out.

You follow her gaze to where the ice hockey team are clambering out of the locker rooms, hoots of laughter echoing through the rink as they push and pull each other playfully in their wobbly skates.

Sure enough, it's Park Jimin who interrupts your inner dialogue as he skates over to the barrier, waving up at Seulgi who grabs you by the hand and pulls you down to rink beside her despite your grumbling. Moral support, she says.

"Seulgi!" His skates crunch against the ice as he swings to a perfect stop. "What's up?"

"Not much! This is my best friend, Y/N. I don't think you guys have met before—"

"I know who she is." Jimin looks you up and down. "Skater right?"

"Ex-skater." You correct him.

"Oh that's right." There's a glint in his eyes as he pretends to pout, tugging on his collar like he wants you to think he made a mistake. Everyone around here knows about the accident so it's hardly believable. Jimin knows that you don't like him. Is he trying to get under your skin? "Whoops."

"Anyway..." Seulgi swiftly interrupts the strangely tense staring contest going down between you and Jimin, hand curling around your forearm like she's afraid you might jump him or something.

Jimin's eyes snap back to Seulgi. "So, I've been meaning to ask. Would you be able to get free tickets for me and the guys for the Christmas party at the rink next week?"

You roll your eyes. So that's why he suddenly decided to come over here to talk to Seulgi. Jimin was known for picking up girls with his sweet bargaining talk and empty promises and dropping them when they no longer had anything to offer, and this seemed like another one of his tricks — after all, everyone knows that Seulgi's dad owns the town's biggest ice rink and that tickets for the annual Christmas parade are like gold dust to get your hands on.

Jimin flashes Seulgi one of his trademark pearly grins and you can see her panties practically drop as she nods eagerly, even despite the condescending look you give. Don't do it. You try to send the words with your brain waves or something but apparently thirteen years of friendship isn't strong enough to break down the barrier of Park Jimin infatuation.

"Of course! I'll add you to the guest list!"

You slap a palm to your forehead.

"Great! I guess you could call it a date..."

Jimin's sweet talking becomes too cavity inducing to bare so you resort to resting your chin in your palm and watching the hockey team play instead.

You've seen them practice here hundreds of times so it's no wonder the brand new player sat at the edge of the ice, doing up his skates alone in a number 33 jersey, stands out to you instantly.

The whistle blows and the game starts and you gasp when you see how easily and languidly he glides across the ice. "Who is that?"

Jimin follows your gaze, resting his elbows on the edge of the rink just in time to watch the mystery player slide past his opponent before sending the hockey puck flying into the net with an easy precision. His teammates skid to sharp stops, jaws hanging open in disbelief at his skill as they fumble to congratulate him with loud thwacks to the back of his jersey.

"Who is that?" Seulgi's mouth is open in disbelief as Number 33 just brushes his team off with a humble nod, as if the attention makes him bashful, and skates to the centre of the rink to maintain his starting position for the second round.

"Him?" Jimin rolls his eyes. "That's the new captain. Can't remember his name. Don't care, honestly. Said he moved here from downtown or something, I don't know, but everyone acts as if he's an ice hockey prodigy or something."

"He's good." You jump in. "I've never seen someone make a goal that easy before."

"I just don't understand why coach chose him to be captain instead of me." Jimin murmurs under his breath, though you still catch the disdain in his voice as Number 33 makes yet another goal. "There's only one scholarship up for grabs and it has to be mine."

The funny feeling is back in your stomach again as the game finally comes to an end and the guy in the number 33 jersey disappears into the locker room. You just can't put your finger on it. Why are you so drawn to this random guy?

"Earth to Y/N? Hello?" Seulgi waves a hand in front of your face and you notice the blush on her cheeks as Jimin jogs away. "Critique my salchow jumps while I practice?"

You nod and Seulgi disappears onto the ice, taking her starting position before the music plays and she glides across the ice with ease. But you barely even feel the pang in your chest like usual as you watch her perform a routine you know you could do a million times better because you're too focused on the name that echoes through the arena as the guy in the number 33 jersey emerges from the locker room, helmet in hand now as he shakes free his head of dark brown hair.

"Kim Seokjin!"

Suddenly everything becomes clear.

5 years ago.

Adrenaline runs hot in your veins as you tip toe onto the rink.

Seulgi's dad always let you be the first to break the fresh ice in. There's nothing you love more than the first crunch of your blades against the blanket of undisturbed frost, how the coolness of the ice hits your chapped skin as you gain speed, skates gliding on autopilot like they're following the map of patterns every spin leaves behind in the mosaic of ice.

Here it's easy to forget. All that matters is focus and balance and fingertips skimming ice. Reminding yourself to push further, to embrace the dizzy feeling of flying. Getting lost in the speed and the adrenaline and the goddamn burn in your quads as you close your eyes and spin and spin, arms poised like you might take flight at any second. Like you're one with the ice.

And when the determined sweat on your brow freezes and the blisters from your rental skates gets too much, you glide to the edge of the rink and drape yourself over the barrier with a triumphant smile. Your body aches and even though you shiver there's a warmth in your chest.

Freedom. And you can never get enough.

You don't realise your gasping for breath until a nervous cough pops your bubble of serenity and you're reminded you're at the ice rink and your shift is about to start and there's a strange guy in a fur hood and mittens peering up at you with wide eyes.

What the...?

"Can I help you?" You ask.

An awkward silence stretches out as the guy stares at you quizzically for a second, eyes dragging from your skates up to your face. You see him swallow thickly when he meets your gaze.

"Me?" He glances to the left and then to the right, cheeks flushing a deep shade of red when he finds the rink otherwise derelict. "Oh, uh...I was walking by just now and I saw you and—"

"If you wanna skate you need to buy a ticket." You hoist yourself off the rink, clomping across the heavy rubber carpet towards the ticket booth in your skates like you're on a pair of wobbly stilts.

He thrusts his hands into his pockets and trails a few steps behind you, eyes trained to the ground as you lift the hatch and slip behind the cash register. "Right. I knew that."

"What size do you need?" You call over your shoulder.

"Huh?"

He's a couple feet shorter than you and his forehead barely pokes over the counter of the booth but you can still sense the confusion in his voice. It takes all your strength to bite back a smile. "Your shoe size? For your skates?"

"Oh — right! Uh, 12 please." The guy scratches the back of his neck bashfully as you hand him a pair of freshly sharpened rental skates. His hand shoots out a little too eagerly, mitten covered fingers just barely brushing yours, the touch enough to send a jolt through your entire body like you'd just touched something icy cold. You pause, your own cheeks heating up now as the fur hood hugging his ears falls down to reveal a mop of messy brown hair and a pair of gentle eyes that won't quite meet yours.

You cough, eager to gloss over the awkward moment quickly. "First time here, huh?"

The embarrassed chuckle he lets out is endearing. "Yup. Is it that obvious?"

"Kinda." A smile finds your lips as he slips off one of his sneakers and fiddles with the laces of the ice skates clumsily. "So what brings you here?"

His foot finally slides into the boot. He smiles triumphantly. "I want to learn how to do what you did."

You quirk a brow. "Me?"

"Yeah. Just now, when you were skating. It was awesome. Like you were flying or something." He swallows. "I hope you don't mind that I watched, you can tell me if it's totally creepy-"

You cut off his nervous rambling with a chuckle. "It's fine, really." It's your turn to avert your eyes now. "Besides, I'm not awesome. But thanks."

You watch the professional figure skaters that frequent the rink to practice every week with their perfected turns and toe loop jumps and hand sewn leotards that glimmer in the rink's reflection. They are poised and disciplined, floating across the rink like their skates never quite touch the surface. You are nothing like them. And you never will be.

"Are you kidding?" The guy all but splutters. "You're the best skater I've ever seen!"

"And how many other skaters have you seen?"

"Zero." His eyes glint cheekily. "But I'm sure none of them could top you, skater girl.”

You practically choke at that, face flushing a deep red as you bump into a rack of ice skating brochures before panicking and dropping to your knees out of sight behind the booth.

Way to seem natural! What had gotten into you? Idiot.

You squeeze your eyes shut, pinching your inner arm like you might wake up from a crazy dream and this whole embarrassing-yourself-in-front-of-cute-boy malarkey would disappear with it. Alas, when your eyes open you find that you are very much awake and brochures cover the booth of the floor.

Luckily, he doesn't notice; he's already getting to his feet shakily, whitened knuckles gripping the side of the booth as he tries to find his balance. You remember how it felt the first time you wore a pair of skates. How the edges dug into your ankles and every step felt like you were on a tight rope. Now they felt natural.

"Woah!" His first steps are like watching a baby deer, arms outstretched as he desperately tries to maintain his dignity and stop from face planting before he even gets out on the ice. "This is harder than I thought..."

You slowly get up from your knees, a coy smile finding your mouth as you peer over the counter. The new customers were always the best to spy on; you and Seulgi spend hours back here behind this very booth spluttering over hot cocoa at the people who always seem to fall on their asses as soon as they touch the ice. If she was here right now she'd probably say something about how he was ticking every first skater cliche box possible.

Frantic windmill arms? Check. Nervous muttering? Check. The balance of a penguin in high heels? Triple check.

You rest your chin in your palm, biting back your amusement when he staggers over to the edge of the rink and tentatively takes his first step onto the ice. His skate immediately slides out from beneath him and his knuckles turn white around his grip on the barrier as he struggles to pull himself back upright, glancing side to side bashfully to check if anyone spotted his screw up.

"I meant to do that..." He grunts, taking a deep breath as he moves closer to the ice again. This time, his first step is successful and after a few almost mishaps he seems to finally get the hang of it, pushing his weight back and forth so that he moves — albeit shakily — across the rink, gaining speed by the second. He punches the air triumphantly, letting out a long hoot of elation.

"Look I'm doing it! — wait...ah!" Despair flashes across his features when he realises his body is headed straight towards the barrier at full speed. "How do I stop?!" He cries, legs scrambling to find their balance.

"Oh no..." You wince, covering your eyes. "This can't end well."

It's too late to help him now and all you can do is wince and watch in horror as he crashes onto the ice in a pile of clumsy limbs with a grunt.

"Ouch!"

You count the seconds that he's down, waiting for the moment his head pops up over the barrier. Ten seconds. Then twenty. Thirty, and still no sign of his dazed face or choppy bangs.

Oh no.

Before you can think better of it you are clambering over to the rink and gliding across the ice to where he lays on his back, eyes shut.

He's not...he can't be...is he?

"Are you okay?" You prod him with the toe of your skate. No response. Panic courses through your veins as you fall to your knees and shake him by the shoulders. "Oh my god, please wake up!"

A lazy smile appears on his face, words a little slurred. "I'm fine! I'm fine!"

You lean back into your heels with a sigh of relief as he scrambles onto his elbows and brushes the ice chips from the back of his coat.

"That was..."

"Dangerous." You deadpan.

"Amazing!" He breathes, pure wonder lighting up his face. "I want to go again!"

Your mouth hangs open as he tries to scramble to his feet awkwardly and without success, his skates sliding out from beneath him again. He grabs at the scarf strung around your neck to try and save himself, only he ends up just pulling you down with him into a heap on the ice.

"See! Dangerous." You tut, rolling your eyes as you feel the wet ice soak into the back of your jeans. Nice, now you would have to walk around looking like you pissed your pants for the rest of the day.

He pouts, blowing a frustrated puff of air from the corner of his mouth to dislodge the bangs that fell messily across his eyes in the scuffle. "You made it look so easy! How do you do it without falling on your ass?"

You snort. "You don't. If you wanna learn to skate you're gonna have to embrace having a cold ass once in a while. Skating is about being able to pick yourself back up again each time you fall." You rub the small of your back with a frown. "Even if it bruises."

You get to your feet and reach out a hand for him to take, pulling him up after you. When he finally finds his balance you grab him by the elbow to glide over to the safety of the edge of the rink where he can't be a liability to himself. He lets out a breath of relief when his fingers grasp the barrier.

"Aren't you scared to fall?" He puffs, wiping the sweat that has formed on his brow despite the chill in the air from the ice.

"Terrified." You grin when he glances up at you through his bangs, eyebrow quirked. "But that's part of the fun."

"Teach me." He says suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Teach me how to skate." He clasps his hands together, eyes full and round. "Properly! Like you. Please?"

You let out a sigh. You barely even know this kid. For all you knew he could be a crazy person!

But something about the way his eyes shine when he lifts his hands from the barrier and manages to keep his balance makes you hesitate. You recognise the flushing smile on his face, can imagine the warm feeling of triumph thawing his chest.

Passion.

How could you say no?

"Fine. Meet me here every day at 3. And don't be late."

"Deal." He holds out a mittened hand for you to shake. "My name is Seokjin, by the way. What's yours, skater girl?"

"Y/N." You say when you take his warm hand in yours. "Nice to meet you."

Three o clock becomes your favourite time of day.

Seokjin is like a snow storm in a cup. True to his word, every day when the clock ticks over to 3PM he comes flying into the rink in a flurry of cheesy smiles and dad jokes.

And even though you make fun of the bundles of scarves up to his eyes (that his mom made him wear, as he likes to remind you begrudgingly) and roll your eyes every time he trips over his own skates or bruises his knees or falls on his ass, you can't deny the fact that you're starting to enjoy having him around.

You're not the only one who loves his company. Everyone at the rink is talking about the guy with the bowl cut who is showing so much potential. Probably because Seokjin is much better than you at making friends, instantly becoming well liked in the skating community for his humour and his up and coming skating skills. You hate to admit it but when Seokjin smiles and flirts with the pretty figure skaters from Seulgi's class it makes you burn with jealousy, especially when they titter at his stupid jokes like they're the peak of comedy.

But when Seokjin sees you tying your skates and watching from afar he always turns down their offers to buy him coffee and bounds over to you like a puppy, ready to launch into a recount of some anime he watched last night or one of the advanced skating jumps he wants you to teach him despite barely being able to keep his balance on the ice.

And that's why Seokjin makes you feel like you belong here just as much as everyone else. Because he sees you when no one else does. Because you finally have something that is all your own.

"What's up, skater girl?" Seokjin shoots you a set of finger guns when you look up from the skating magazine in your lap before he leaps over the ticket booth counter. "No customers today?"

You shake your head. Sunday's were always slow days at the rink. That's why you liked these shifts. It's peaceful just being alone with the ice.

"Guess you could say we're totally ice-olated! Get it?" He cackles as he pulls out a pair of white skates from his backpack. His parents bought them for him as an early Christmas present. They are much nicer than your scuffed rental ones and you tuck your feet under the chair so that he can't see them while he ties up his laces.

You chatter absentmindedly as you make your way to the rink as usual. It's only been a few months of lessons but Seokjin doesn't even flinch now when his blades touch the ice, immediately taking off around the rink as fast as he can to blow off some steam before skidding to a stop in a flurry of ice chips when you flash him an amused grin.

"I can never get enough of this feeling." He spins in demonstration, the ends of his hair fluttering up in the breeze that whips around him. "Can we keep learning the routine today? I think I almost got it perfect last time."

"Sure." Seokjin had begged you for weeks to teach him a figure skating routine so you showed him one of the easy ones you saw the beginner skaters perform sometimes. He was getting pretty good now, rarely falling on his butt or missing a step like before. The concentration on his face as he copies your demonstrations and the triumphant grin that replaces it when he finally gets a jump right fills you with a sense of pride.

You're about to skate over to the boom box and hit play on some music so you can go over the routine when the door busts open and in walks Seulgi's figure skating class. You instantly fill with dread as their eyes land on you, scrutinising, and you feel a heat rise in your cheeks.

"Hey Seokjin!" One of them calls — Jennie, you think her name is — as she drapes herself over the barrier seductively. "Why don't you come over here and show us what you're made of? Without your, uh, friend"

"Sorry Jennie, I'm kinda busy right now." He shouts back. "Maybe some other time."

A weird combination of envy and sadness rises inside  you. "Just go." You mutter. "They can teach you a lot more than I can. I don't care."

Lies. You care so much the words taste sour leaving your mouth but you're sure the way Seokjin wistfully gazes towards the pretty girl with fluttering eyelashes who throws her sheet of black hair over her shoulder invitingly tells you all you need to know.

You sting with inferiority. You are just a rookie after all. A nobody. Why would Seokjin want to hang out with you?

With an awkward pout you take off and start skating in circles absentmindedly. It acts as a pleasant distraction, lets you breathe a little bit. Another pair of skates scrape somewhere behind you and then Seokjin's shoulder brushes up against yours. You push harder and faster but he's good now and keeps up with you easily, even as you both start panting with exertion.

"Why don't you take skating classes here like them?" He asks suddenly. "I know it bothers you. You spend so much time skating, don't you wanna do it for real?"

Seokjin's question takes you by so much surprise that you forget your balance and before you can react you're sat in a heap of limbs on the ice. You hide behind your hair when you hear the figure skating team tittering with laughter, amused that however hard you try you will never be able to skate like them.

"Because I'm not like them." You mumble. "I don't have supportive parents like you and I don't have the talent they do." Seokjin says nothing and you wait for him to leave you for Jennie instead but he just stays rooted to the spot. "Why don't you just get proper lessons if your parents can afford it? Why do you keep coming back here everyday to me?"

Seokjin doesn't respond. The next thing you know, there's a loud crash and he's throwing himself forcefully onto his butt on the ice beside you. "Whoops!" He says, putting on a show for the skaters to hear. They immediately stop laughing when he sends them a stern look.

"Because I like you." Seokjin whispers, but only loud enough for you to hear this time, making a point of rubbing his back like the fall hurt to make you laugh. "Not them."

He offers you a hand and you both scramble to your feet. The smile on your face hurts your cheeks but you can't bring yourself to let it go. And as Seokjin spins you around until your giddy and your teeth start to chatter you forget about the skaters and the inferiority and fill with nothing but belonging.

"You're getting better." You tell Seokjin as you skate hand in hand over to the edge of the ice. "In a couple of weeks you'll be able to skate without me supervising."

He smirks. "I know."

"How humble." You punch his shoulder but he barely flinches, just chuckles when you nearly lose your balance again and he has to grab you under the elbows to keep you upright. "Woah!"

When you look up you're practically nose to nose with him. His breath is warm when it tickles your cheek and you feel yourself go slack in his grip. Seokjin's eyes are filled with stars as they dip down to your mouth and then back up to your eyes.

It hits you how much you want him to kiss you. How much you want to kiss him. Although he seems to have other ideas...

"Hey, I almost forgot!" He pulls away and you let out a shaky breath, scuffing the toe of your skate against the carpet bashfully. Seokjin's face lights up as he fumbles around in his big coat pockets. "I got you something for Christmas. Close your eyes."

"Huh?"

He's practically jumping from foot to foot with excitement now. "Just do it!"

You oblige with a fond shake of your head, squeezing your eyes shut, heart fluttering when Seokjin presses something cold and smooth into the palm of your hand.

When you uncurl your fingers you find a delicate Christmas ornament in your palm that is shaped like a pearly white ice skate. The tiny boot is tied up with red and white candy cane laces and the silver glitter on the blade sparkles in the low light.

"Oh Seokjin..." You gasp, turning it around in your fingers. "It's so pretty."

"Do you like it?" Seokjin asks anxiously, searching your face, a grin appearing on his lips to match your own when you nod eagerly.

"I love it!"

"I thought of you as soon as I saw it." He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly shy. "Now you can think of me when you see it, too."

You slide Seokjin's gift into your pocket, walking beside him in a comfortable silence towards the exit. "See you here again tomorrow?"

Seokjin's hand falters on the door handle, something close to pain crossing his features. You wait for him to answer your question but he never does. Instead you're being pulled into a tight hug, his arms squeezing you so tightly you start to feel light headed. At least that's what you tell yourself. It can't be the way his warm breath flutters against your neck, right?"

"Thank you. For everything." He murmurs into your hair. "For being you."

Your arms wrap around his back instinctively. "All of a sudden?"

"Just remember that, okay?" He flashes you a final small smile before his warm embrace is gone and he's out the door and being whisked away with the flurry of snow that has begun to fall.

Seokjin doesn't come back the next day. Or the day after that. Even when a week passes by with no sign of him you still find your head snapping up each time the door opens or you see the flash of a red scarf.

"He's not coming, Y/N." Seulgi sighs, pushing your legs down from where you balance on the windowsill with your forehead pressed to the glass to make room for her own body to squeeze in beside you. "My dad says his family left town last week, remember?"

You keep your eyes glued to the path outside. If you focus hard enough you can almost see him barging through the door like he always does, making his unruly presence known by calling out some irritatingly unfunny dad joke that still managed to somehow make you laugh when he cracked himself up. Or grabbing your hands and swinging you around on the ice until you're both panting and laughing and teary eyed at the same time but you don't care because you're together.

And if you close your eyes you can still remember how it felt when he wrapped you up in his arms before he left and you wonder if anything he ever said meant anything at all.

Fresh snow has started to fall and just like that the boot prints he left behind are covered up, like they never even existed. Like he never even existed.

You bite your lip. "How could he leave without telling me first?"

"Oh Y/N." Seulgi rubs your shoulder. "I'm sure he had his reasons."

"Whatever." You jump down from the window, slinging your hands in your pockets only to feel your heart pang when your fingers brush up against the Christmas decoration Seokjin gave you.

You dangle the string from your finger, admiring the way it sparkles and glints when it hits the light, even when your eyes start to fog up with tears that just won't seem to disappear no matter how hard you try to rub them away.

And with that you drop it into a stray box of Christmas decorations and it's like Seokjin really is gone for good now.

"Y/N?" Seulgi's dad pokes his head into the ticket booth. You have to wipe your cheeks with your sleeve quickly, mustering up the closest thing to a watery smile as you can. "I was thinking about your Christmas gift. How would you like some skating lessons with Seulgi. I watched you today and I think you're really talented. Let's not waste it, hm?"

Present day.

"So you're telling me the kid with the weird hair is back?" Seulgi asks, though you can only see her eyes peering over the top of the cardboard box filled with Christmas decorations that she lugs out of the storage closet. Her dad asked you to decorate the huge tree that looks like it belongs out in a forest instead of in front of the ice rink, which is how you find yourself balanced precariously on a wooden ladder trying and failing to lasso tinsel over the furthermost branches.

"He doesn't have weird hair." You say through gritted teeth as the ladder wobbles and you miss the branch once again. "And his name is Seokjin, Seulgi."

"Same difference." Seulgi barely puffs before her foot slips and the box is sent flying to the ground in a wince worthy crash of jingling bells and cracking glass that bursts all over the carpet. "Oh shit! These were my grandmas! My dad is gonna kill me...hey, can you rescue the survivors while I go get something to clean up this mess?"

"Sure."

"Don't start on the lights without me!"

Seulgi disappears into the back and you breathe a sigh of relief when you hop down the ladder and your feet touch the ground again.

It takes all your strength to heave the box onto a nearby table, frowning when you open the flaps to find nothing but a pile of sparkling crushed glass where Seulgi's grandma's prized ornaments should have been. Rolling up your sleeves, you begin to remove the salvageable ones, pausing when your fingers curl around a familiar shape.

When you open your palm it reveals a small silver ice skate with candy-cane laces hanging from a dainty silver string.

Seokjin's gift. How did it get here?

God, you really are hung up on this guy, huh? Wherever you go these days reminders of him seem to follow. Without figure skating to distract you, you have fallen back into your old missing-Kim-Seokjin ways and you can't help but scowl at your own weakness for some guy who just up and left without a single word five years ago.

"Hello?" A voice deeper than Seulgi's echoes through the rink, followed by a gust of chilly wind and the slamming of the entrance doors. "Are you open?"

Is that...

"Seokjin?"

His name leaves your lips as a whisper but the shrill sound of the ornament falling from your shock slackened fingers and shattering into a million pieces alerts him of your presence.

Shit. Seulgi is gonna kill you.

You bend to your knees, desperately trying to reassemble the smashed shards but failing miserably.

"It's ruined." You have to bite your lip to stop angry tears from sliding down your cheeks as you stare down at the miserable pile of broken glass. All that is left of a happy memory gone forever.

A pair of boots stop in front of you and when you lift your head you're met with a familiar pair of gentle brown eyes staring down at you in concern.

"Skater girl?"

He's back. Kim Seokjin is back. And he's here!

In your surprise you accidentally squeeze the glass between your fingers too hard, hissing when you feel a sharp scrape against your palm. "Ow!"

"Hey, watch out! You're bleeding."

The last place you expected to find yourself today was cradling your cut hand behind the ticket booth while Kim Seokjin of all people rummages beneath the counter for the first aid kit. It's almost as if he never left with how easily he shrugs off his coat and gets to work.

"You still keep it down here, right?" You nod and he lets out a little ta da when his head re-emerges behind a box filled with bandages and antiseptic. "I remember from all the times I fell out on the ice and you had to patch me up."

When he sits down on the stool opposite you it's like you're experiencing a severe case of dejavu. He looks exactly the same as he always did yet somehow completely different; his shoulders are broader than you remember them and it looks like he started gelling his hair back, exposing his forehead. Your eyes can't help the way they trace the curve of his jaw, sharper now, and the ice hockey shoulder pads that protrude from beneath his winter coat.

One thing is the same though. The way he takes your wrist gently into his lap and begins to wind a strip of bandage around it with caution, glancing up at you every now and again to check it isn't too tight or too painful. He always was the kind and patient one after all.

"There." He says when he's finished, thumb running across your wrist just barely before you take back your arm sheepishly, still avoiding eye contact. "You should really be more careful. You won't be able to train with an injured hand."

You wince at the mention of figure skating. Of course Seokjin hadn't heard about the accident yet — he was living in a different town when it happened. But that didn't make it any less painful.

Seokjin frowns when he sees your face, mistakenly reaching for your hand again. "Does it still hurt?"

You take a sudden step back and his hand falls to his side. "No. It's fine." You grab your bag with your good arm and swing it over your shoulder. "Thanks for this but I gotta go."

A hand curls around your arm, pinning you in place before you can even take a step. When you turn begrudgingly Seokjin is biting his lip. "Did I say something wrong?"

A sigh escapes you and Seokjin reluctantly lets you go when you shake your arm free of his grip, finally taking a deep breath to fill your lungs with enough courage to look him in the eye.

"You didn't say anything at all. That's the whole problem, Jin." His mouth hangs open and he starts to stutter something but you put up a finger and he stops, retreating back into his seat like a scolded puppy. "You just left! Without even telling me where you were going! And now you're back here?"

"Y/N listen—"

"Why? Why are you back Seokjin?" The way your voice wavers makes his eyes widen.

He scratches the back of his neck almost remorsefully, avoiding the real question and your eyes. "I...I transferred. I applied for a ice hockey scholarship to play here. I was actually hoping I'd find you here, to see if maybe you wanted to go skating again sometime or something..."

"Listen, I don't skate anymore okay?" You scoff, turning on your heels and marching towards the exit. "So don't bother coming back."

Just then Seulgi reappears from the back. "Y/N? I found some more decorations — oh."

The last thing you hear is her voice calling your name before you march right out of the rink and get as far away from Seokjin and the memories and the longing and the hurt as possible.

November has already rolled into December by the time you see Seokjin again.

Seulgi's family's ice rink is bustling with locals in scarves and wooly hats, alive with a buzz of excitement that mingles with the cheesy Christmas tunes playing overhead and the smell of hot cocoa from the concessions stand as the town eagerly awaits the beginning of the annual Christmas parade, of which the rink is the central attraction.

The rink is decorated to the nines and you can't deny it looks breathtaking; you aren't a total grinch after all. You're almost sure that you've woken up in some kind of alternate winter wonderland, like you're a character in one of those decorative snow globes they sell at the mall and the whole place could be picked up and shaken until the air fills with Christmas spirit like the first flakes of snow on a winter's morning.

Except nothing about working the ticket booth feels even remotely festive. Your cheeks have started to hurt from all the polite smiling at even the rudest of customers and the sly side eyes and grimaces you and Seulgi throw at each other every time you see another kid fall over and need first aid and there's fake snow in your hair and tinsel stuck to your shoe.

You've just slumped into a heap on the stool behind the counter after dealing with a particularly lumpy case of motion sickness from one of the parents begrudgingly skating like baby deers behind their children when you spot Jimin and the rest of the hockey team elbowing through the crowd to the ticket booth.

You can't help but roll your eyes when you see the pair of dark shades balanced on the bridge of his nose that just look silly with his winter coat and the smug smile on his face as he barges to the front of the queue and rings the bell on the counter like a man possessed.

"Can I help you?" You ask nonchalantly, inspecting your nails.

Jimin turns up his nose. "Is Seulgi around."

You shake your head. A lie. She's just in the back taking her gingerbread cookies out of the oven so she can hand them out to the children while they are still warm.

"No. You've got me. How many tickets?"

"We're on the guest list, actually." Jimin purrs. "Seulgi said so herself."

You pick up the clipboard on the counter and pretend to scan the guest list, pushing your bottom lip out mockingly as you shrug your shoulders. "Sorry. Doesn't look like you are. Now that'll be ten dollars each or I'm gonna have to ask you to leave—"

"Pfft, let me see that." Jimin reaches over the counter and tries to snatch the clipboard from your grasp but you just end up in a childish game of tug of war. With a scoff he suddenly let's go and wipes his hand on his jacket with a scowl, looking you up and down with gritted teeth. "What is your goddamn problem, Y/N? Would it kill you to be nice to me for once?"

"Me? Nice to you?" You let out an exasperated sigh, fists clenching as Jimin's entourage begin to look nervous, some backing up and others tugging him by the arm to back down which he only shakes off, eyes never leaving yours like he's daring you to look away first. "You are my problem, Park Jimin. You think you can come in here and use Seulgi? Well you'll have to cross me first—"

"Did someone call me?" Seulgi's sugary laughter rounds the corner before she does, confusion crossing her features when she sees Jimin's tense jaw and the murder in your eyes. Not exactly Christmas spirit, is it?

"Let's ask Seulgi herself about the guest list, shall we?" Jimin's face lights up with his signature smile that has Seulgi heating up in a blush and you mentally face palming as you reluctantly hand over the clipboard and watch Seulgi zero in on the PARK JIMIN she wrote in her own curly scrawl, the 'i's dotted with tiny hearts.

"Yep, you guys can go on through." She says with a grin, seemingly too blind with love to see the I told you so look Jimin sends your way.

"Seulgi are you really gonna—"

"I knew I could count on you Seulgi," Jimin drawls. "How about we go skating together?"

Yup. That's it. Your best friend has been taken over by the love bug and nothing you say now will bring her to her senses as she nods eagerly and begins ticking each member of the hockey team off her list.

"...Kim Taehyung...Jung Hoseok and last but not least, Kim Seokjin!"

Hold up...

When you stupidly snap your eyes up they instantly meet the very pair you've been trying to avoid. Seokjin's.

There he is in all his glory, tall enough these days to see over the counter. The smile on his face fades when he notices you too.

"Y/N? Hello?" Seulgi snaps you back out of your Kim Seokjin induced trance, blushing when you realise you must have been staring and that's probably why he's fiddling with his coat zipper and avoiding your gaze. "Can you handle the ticket booth for a bit while I go for a skate?"

All reservations are wiped from your mind and you have to swallow hard before any words come out that aren't oh my god or Seokjin. "Y-yeah, sure."

"Great!" She swings over the counter. You stare at your feet, face uncomfortably hot under Seokjin's gaze. Seulgi takes Jimin's elbow. "See you later!"

"Have f-fun." You manage to mumble, relief flooding your chest when Jimin and his entourage become smaller and smaller before disappearing amongst the indistinguishable hustle and bustle.

Your breath catches when you finally lift your gaze and find Seokjin still stood frozen in the same spot, opening and closing his mouth awkwardly like he wants to say something but doesn't quite know how.

I'm sorry. I didn't want to leave. I don't think you're a freak like everyone else just because of your accident.

You can imagine so many different combinations of words leaving his lips except the ones that he finally croaks aren't quite what you're expecting. "Uh, I need to rent some skates. I forgot to bring my ones..."

Oh.

A few awkward seconds pass until you realise he's waiting patiently for you to do your job and get him the freaking skates instead of standing open mouthed like some kind of frozen ice sculpture that doesn't know how to function, and you turn a little too abruptly, eager to hide the heat in your cheeks and nearly knocking the whole rack of rental skates down in your haste.

God! Why do you always embarrass yourself in front of him?

"I need a size—"

"12. I know." Your voice sounds small as you turn back around and hand him a pair of black skates, freshly sharpened just like how you knew he liked them. Or used to like them anyway. "I remember."

Something close to pain briefly flashes over his face and there's another silence that feels deafening despite the screams and cheers of skaters a few meters away that fill the atmosphere.

He coughs when his hand brushes yours as he reaches to take the ice skates and you feel your eyes widen when an electric current runs up your arm and settles in the left side of your chest with a funny pang. His eyes slowly meet yours, soft and gentle and filled with stars just like you remember them. Your heart starts beating so fast you're sure everyone at the rink can hear it now.

You can almost hear your words from the other day echoing in his head. Don't bother coming back.

And when he rips his gaze away from yours, the warmth of his fingers disappearing with it as he turns on his heels and starts to walk away without so much as a goodbye, you realise just how much you didn't mean them. How glad you are that he's back here, at the rink, like old times, like you've always silently hoped he would be despite never admitting it to yourself until now.

That's why you can't help yourself when you swing your body over the counter and jog after him, with a call of, "Hey, Seokjin, wait up!"

He stops abruptly at the sound of his name and you almost crash into the back of him, grateful for the arm that shoots out and catches you before you can stumble over your own feet.

"Woah, be careful. You coulda got hurt—"

His arm is still around your waist when you start mumbling incoherently, out of breath and desperate to get the truth off your chest in this sudden burst of bravery before you chicken out and retreat to the bubble of timidity you've found yourself in since the accident.

"Listen, I'm really sorry about the other day I was just kinda surprised to see you again and I lashed out." He cocks an eyebrow when you finish, before you're spluttering, "Good surprised! It's, uh, good to see you again is what I'm trying to say — really good to see you."

There's another silence that feels immeasurable and you feel hot embarrassment caress your face as you scan Seokjin's features for any sign that he's going to push you away or tease you for being such an idiot that still likes him even after he left you and—

Then he's laughing. Deep chuckles vibrating against your cheek as he pulls you into a bear hug and you're smushed up against his chest and breathing in his woody cologne until you're laughing with relief too.

"It's good to see you too, Y/N." He says when he finally lets you go and maybe he's just cold but you're sure there's a trace of a blush on his own nose as he shoves his hands deep into his pockets like he can't trust them not to reach out and grab you again. "Really good."

"Hey Kim Seokjin, stop flirting and get your ass over here stat!"

Seokjin's eyes roll in unison with your own when none other than Park Jimin's voice ruins the moment. When you both turn and find him leaning over the barrier of the ice rink, beckoning Seokjin with a single finger, you cant help but snort at the exasperated sigh that leaves the boy beside you.

"Will he ever give me a break?" Seokjin mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose and mouthing sorry as he nods his head to signal for you to join him. Jimin offers you both a salute in greeting.

"Captain," Jimin practically snarls around the word, contempt evident in his voice despite the grin plastered to his face. It only grows when he turns his attention to you. "And sweet little figure skating champion Y/N — oh wait!" He must see the way your face drops because he can't conceal the laughter that bubbles up next. "Whoops. Did I say something wrong?"

Seokjin looks between you and Jimin with confusion which quickly turns to concern when he sees the way your fists have started to shake. His hand falls to the small of your back and you briefly feel all your anger rinse away.

"Lets just go, Y/N—"

Jimin seems to have other ideas. "Hey Seokjin! Did you hear about Y/N's little...accident?" He calls. You stiffen and Seokjin finally meets Jimin's gaze head on, somewhat curious. "It happened right here on this very rink. The day before nationals, right princess?" Jimin waits for you to nod before he continues. "I'm sure she can fill you in on what happened while you two flirt like school girls. Maybe then you'll understand why she feels the need to make everyone around her miserable. Because her injuries healed but she's still broken."

A gasp comes from somewhere behind Jimin and you instantly recognise it as belonging to Seulgi who has just skated into the middle of the battle ground. She's not the only one who looks surprised — a couple members of the hockey team flash you sympathetic looks. It drives you crazy. You hate being their goddamn reason to throw a pity party.

"Even after my accident I can still skate better than you ever will Park," You spit. "And don't you forget it."

Jimin's eyes glint with something dark and you swallow thickly. Oh no.

"Then how about you prove it to all of us, huh?" He smirks when you just gape at him, the implications of his words sending a chill down your spine. Jimin pretends to tap the non existent watch on his wrist when you stay rooted in place with wide eyes."We haven't got all day. You gonna get your skates or what?"

Get your skates on. Right now?

"Okay." You wince at how timid your voice sounds, not even able to enjoy the surprise on Jimin's face because of the fear tightening like a coil in your stomach as you let your feet carry you over to the rack of rental skates.

When you reach for your favourite pair — your old favourite pair — you find your hands are shaking uncontrollably. They don't stop even as you somehow manage to slip them onto your feet and clomp back over to the edge of the rink where Jimin waits with a cheshire grin and Seokjin and Seulgi rush forward to stop you from taking another step as soon as they see the way your breathing has quickened and your practically gasping for air now. When did it get so hot in here?

"Y/N I really don't think this is a good idea, you don't have to—" Seulgi starts, but you brush her off, determined to prove Jimin wrong.

Sure, it has been nearly a year since you last got on the ice without falling into a panic attack. Sure, your heart is racing so fast at the thought of the blades beneath your feet touching the frozen surface you can feel it in your throat. Sure, you still let yourself cry sometimes when it's late and Seulgi's fast asleep and you wake up from a dream where you're skating and you're free and then the icy bitterness of reality sets in and you remember that's all gone now.

But you're not broken right? You can't be.

No. I'm not broken.

You grit your teeth. "I can do it."

I'm not broken.

Your knuckles whiten with how hard you're gripping the barrier as you drag your feet closer to the edge of the ice.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

I'm not broken.

Your vision starts to blur into a swirl of Christmas lights and ice skates and Park Jimin's stupid grin.

You squeeze your eyes shut as the tip of your blade touches the ice and then—

"Stop!"

An arm curls around your waist and pulls you back. You let out a sigh of relief. It's Seokjin and he's holding you upright now as you clutch your chest and try to breathe, determined to stop angry tears from slipping down your cheeks.

You're broken. Utterly and completely. Jimin was right.

"Back off, Park." Seokjin barks and you're aware of how Jimin is clutching his stomach, laughter spilling from his lips as Seulgi stares on nervously.

"Why? Because you know I'm gonna steal your scholarship at the Christmas Eve game?"

Seokjin scoffs. "Because you're being kind of an ass right now. Come on, Y/N, grab your coat."

"Why?" You manage to splutter, still needing Seokjin's support as he pulls you behind him to the locker rooms.

"We're getting out of here."

The sky has faded to a deep blue-black when you push out of the ice rink into the chilly winter evening beside Seokjin.

You pull your coat tighter around your chin, unsure if the way your limbs shiver is because of the December weather or the fear still lingering in the pit of your stomach.

Seokjin's presence beside you is comforting. It brings you back to reality somewhat. He doesn't mention the earlier tension between you, just flashes you a small smile instead. "Come on. Let's get warmed up."

The Christmas lights strung between lamp posts above your heads provide a subtle glow that makes his eyes softly gleam as he offers you a glove covered hand just like he used to, all those years ago before he left. With a shy glance you slide your hand into his, cheeks burning, but grateful for the feeling of Seokjin squeezing your hand reassuringly, grounding you like lead to a balloon.

Maybe you would regret it tomorrow when you remember that this wasn't going to last and he was inevitably going to leave you again. But old habits die hard and you can't resist the natural feeling of mutual comfort that settles between you like a warm hug from nostalgia.

Seokjin pulls you behind him to join the throng of people in woollen scarves and fuzzy earmuffs making their towards the annual Christmas market your town always throws to celebrate the holidays. The entire street is alive with joyous laughter and twinkling lights, the smell of freshly baked mince pies mixed with pine wreaths soothing you instantly.

Seokjin buys you both a cup of steaming mulled wine from one of the cozy market stalls with thatched roofs playing tinny Christmas tunes. You take it from him graciously, thankful for the fuzzy warmth it provides as you breathe in the festive aroma.

You walk together in a comfortable silence, enjoying the way Seokjin's arm brushes against yours sometimes and how he always blushes when it does. He keeps looking at you like he wants to say something but doesn't know how, resorting to sipping the hot liquid he cradles between his palms instead as if to stop the words from tumbling out without permission.

You're about to tease him for it, ask him to spit it out, whatever it is, or forever hold his peace — but then you see it.

Across the street sits a quaint shop with a SANTA STOP HERE sign on the door. It's decorated just as festively as the rest and would have blended in to the picturesque scene had it not been for the thing on display which catches your eye.

Before you know it you are wandering up to the window with wide eyes, breath fogging up the glass as you take in the pair of pearly white ice skates glaring at you from behind your own reflection. They're tied up neatly with a red bow inside the store's display and they seem to sparkle beneath the twinkling Christmas decorations like they're covered in thousands of tiny snow flakes. The sight nearly takes your breath away.

You can almost hear the way the blades would scrape the ice just the way you liked it, how the cold air would make your eyes water as they carried you around the rink. How the satin interior would never rub your toes and the fur trim would hug your ankles just right.

A pair of skates like these were supposed to belong to one of the pretty professional figure skaters you could never quite keep up with when you were on the ice, routines so rehearsed they could be free styling to the inexperienced eye, silver laces complimenting their daintily sequinned bodysuits.

Not someone who only has plain bodices and rental skates and wears ugly burns on their knees from hitting the ice too hard. Not someone like you.

Besides, you promised yourself you would never pick up another pair of skates again. What is the point in dreaming?

"So..." Seokjin starts, blowing at the steam swirling from his paper cup. "What happened back there? You seemed kinda freaked out."

You freeze. Seokjin shifts. "You miss skating huh?"

You drop your eyes to the liquid in your cup. Were you that easy to read? Or did Seokjin just remember you better than you realised?

"Mhm." It comes out a little choked but you force a smile, hoping he'll believe it even if it doesn't quite meet your eyes. "But I'm a law major now. Don't have a ton of time for competing anymore."

It isn't a complete lie. You are a law major now, much to the pride of your family who always thought skating was a waste of time anyway.

But becoming a lawyer isn't your dream. It was your back up plan. Because your dream of being a competitive skater will never come true now and you had to accept it somehow. Throwing yourself into classes and deadlines seemed like the best way to keep your mind occupied, even if it doesn't make you forget your troubles in the same way skating used to.

"Sounds boring."

You shrug. "Sometimes."

Seokjin narrows his eyes. "But I know you, remember? The Y/N I knew always had time for skating. Did...did something really happen?"

You bite your lip, glassy tears fogging up your vision. God, you told yourself long ago to stop crying every time someone brought up the accident. When you wipe at your eyes harshly with the back of your hand you hear Seokjin suck in a nervous breath.

"You don't have to tell me, I'm sorry for bringing it up—"

"No! No it's okay." You shake your head with a loud sniff. "It's me, not you. It happened a few days before I was due to leave for nationals. I was practicing at the rink with Seulgi like usual and the next thing I know I'm lying in a hospital bed with my leg in a cast." You sigh, a twinge of pain running up your leg as you remember the stiff feeling of the cast. "I don't even remember what happened, not really. Seulgi said I hit my head pretty hard. Haven't been out on the ice since."

"I'm sorry." Seokjin's eyes soften and his hand hovers over yours like he wants to comfort you but doesn't know how. "I can't imagine not being able to skate, I think I'd...I think I'd go crazy."

You shrug. "You get used to it after a while." A lie. "It doesn't matter anyway." Another lie. "Besides, it's not like I can't skate, my leg healed just like they said it would. I'm just..."

"Scared." Seokjin finishes. You feel a flush of embarrassment rush to your cheeks as you nod carefully. You've never told anyone this. Not even Seulgi. But something tells you Seokjin would understand.

"I want to skate again so badly. Like with every bone in my body badly. But every time I even get near the ice I just...freeze up like I did earlier at the rink." Your head falls into your palms, self condemnation evident in the spiteful laugh you afford to your own weakness. "Ugh you must think I suck so bad."

A group of carollers stroll by merrily and you're grateful that their rendition of Silent Night catches Seokjin's attention and covers up your embarrassingly loud sniffle.

"I don't think you suck." Seokjin says eventually, blowing on his hands to warm them up. "It's natural to be scared, especially after something like that. A wise person once taught me that even the best skaters are terrified to fall. It's part of the fun."

You flash him a small smile. The accident still feels raw though and you're eager to change the subject swiftly.

"What about you? Any grand plans for the future?"

Seokjin scratches the back of his neck bashfully. He never did like being boastful. "Took a year out so I could practice playing ice hockey. You've heard about the Christmas Eve game right? The scholarship board is gonna be there.

"Who would've thought that the Kim Seokjin, worst skater in town, would end up being captain of the team?"

He punches your shoulder playfully. "Hey! I wasn't that bad."

"You don't remember falling on your ass every time I tried to show you how to skate?"

Seokjin rolls his eyes. "Well a wise person once told me that being a real skater means being able to pick yourself up each time you fall." He rubs his chin playfully. "And something about getting a cold ass."

You scoff, somehow embarrassed that Seokjin had remembered the words you spoke all those years ago. Embarrassed at how weak you have become since then. "She sounds like an idiot."

"A wise idiot."

You shake your head fondly. Seokjin's laugh is warm and it makes you feel all fuzzy, like just for a moment the cavity in your chest is full. You realise then just how much you missed it. How much you missed him.

When you drag your attention away from the skates on display, your wandering eyes catch a glimpse of the Christmas fairground in the shop window's reflection. You let out a gasp, tipping your head back to look up at the giant ferris wheel that lights up with a million different rainbow colours like a firework against the dark blanket of night.

"You wanna go for a ride?" Seokjin asks, looking somewhat amused.

"Can we?" You're fully aware of just how childlike you must sound right know but the gleeful glint in Seokjin's eyes puts you at ease instantly, a smile lighting up his features that is brighter than all the Christmas lights around you. It's enough to make your stomach do somersaults.

You furrow your brows when Seokjin suddenly takes off into a run, scarf trailing behind him in the wind. "Last one there has to pay for our tickets!"

"What? Hey!"

Before you know it you're climbing into one of the tiny ferris wheel cubicles after begrudgingly paying for both of your tickets, the space between you and Seokjin so slim your knees touch. The ride feels shakier than it looked from the ground and you let out a shriek as it stutters to life, the cubicle rocking back and forth lightly as you begin to raise into the air.

Seokjin appears startled. "What's wrong?"

You weren't expecting the ride to go this high. Perhaps your crippling fear of heights would have been a good thing to mention before you got on.

"Falling." You manage to choke, hands gripping the safety pole so tight your knuckles turn white. "Scared of falling."

"Hey. C'mere." A mitten covered hand engulfs your own. It feels familiar, comforting. Your breathing instantly slows when Seokjin squeezes your fingers tightly. "I won't let you fall."

"Promise?" You whisper, still not convinced as you watch the people on the ground below get smaller and smaller.

"Promise." Seokjin chuckles. "Hey! Look!"

You manage to lift your gaze to where Seokjin's finger points, all fear melting away like snow when you lay eyes on the view of the town stretching out before you like tiny pieces of a toy village. The location gives you a perfect view of the giant Christmas tree that has been set up in town, decked with golden tinsel and shiny baubles alongside the thin layer of frosty snow that glimmers on rooftops and church steeples like a thousand stars.

"Woah." A gasp leaves you involuntarily. "It looks so..."

"Beautiful." Seokjin finishes your sentence with a smile but when you turn you find him staring straight at you. A blush caresses his cheeks. He coughs bashfully and you're reminded of the younger, shyer Seokjin you used to teach to skate at the ice rink.

The Ferris wheel comes to a halt when your cubicle reaches the very top. You smush your nose against the safety glass. If you squint you can just about make out the ice rink in the distance, along with an abundance of skaters gliding serenely across the ice. For a moment your heart leaps and you long to be down there, flying and spinning beside them, but then you remember the accident and you sink back with a frown.

Seokjin's velvety tone beside you brings you back down. "It's because of you, y'know."

"Huh?" You blink.

"You're the reason I started skating in the first place. I'd never be captain if you weren't such a good teacher."

You snort lightly. "If I'm such a good teacher how come I can't even skate anymore myself?"

Seokjin's smile is pitying but determined. He holds out his hand as if he wants you to shake it and you furrow your brows in confusion.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yeah...why?" Suddenly the cubicle starts moving back down and you are thrown into a less than graceful heap directly into Seokjin's lap. "Oh!"

"Woah there..." Seokjin's arms curl around your torso instantly, bigger and stronger than you remembered them being. You're hit with the scent of his laundry detergent and the lightly minty whisper of his breath across your cheek when you turn and find yourself nose to nose with him. "Be careful, skater girl."

A flush caresses your cheeks and this time it's not because of the cold. "I trust you!" You rush.

"Promise?" His breath is warm when it ghosts across your lips.

"Promise."

He just stares at you for a few seconds before you realise you're pressed so close to his chest that he can probably feel the way your heart is beating faster than one of those mechanical Little Drummer Boy decorations.

You cough and slide off his lap into the space beside him, muttering a few awkward sorry's and instantly missing his warmth when your fingers curl around the cold metal pole instead.

Seokjin's grin doesn't leave his face until you're both safely on the ground again and it only grows when you let him slide his hand into yours after he lifts you free from the death trap of a Ferris wheel and your boots collide with the sweet, sweet tarmac.

"Good. Because I have an idea."

"Remind me," Seokjin grunts as he hoists himself over the college campus gate, the locks and chains holding them together rattling under his weight before his feet land neatly on the other side. "Is trespassing illegal, little miss law student?"

"Very." You follow his previous actions, nimbly climbing the railings before letting Seokjin lift you to the ground on the other side. "Why are we here, anyway?"

His breath is visible against the darkening night as he pulls a key from his pocket, dangling it in front of your face teasingly. "Being team captain has some...perks."

"Perks? What kind of perks — Seokjin, wait up!" Before he can answer your question, he's already flattened himself against the brick wall with a sly smirk, looking both ways before sliding around the corner like a shitty MI5 agent. You stay put, arms crossed stubbornly, before Seokjin's arm appears from the dark mouth of the corner and drags you behind him with a yelp.

"Just trust me, okay?" Seokjin starts with a smile, but not before his face is draining of colour and he's lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. "Shit! I forgot about the cameras..."

"Cameras?" You squeak, following his gaze up towards the CCTV camera pointed toward the entrance a few feet away, like it's a predator waiting to catch its prey. "Seokjin! We can't get caught, you could lose your chance at a scholarship and I could get kicked out and—"

"Chill, we've got this. I've done this hundreds of times!" Seokjin's eyes flit to the ground when you raise an eyebrow at him. "Just, you know, to practice and stuff. Not with other girls or anything. Not that there are other girls! Just you. Because you're the only girl that I ever — never mind..."

A few moments pass in silence as you just blink at him  while he scratches the back of his neck. Watching him toe the dirt with his shoe sheepishly has a small smile growing on your face and all your inhibitions get thrown to the wind as quickly as your heart has started to race.

"I trust you." Seokjin looks up hopefully. "Let's do it."

He practically punches the air at your unreserved participation. "Here. Put this on." He yanks the green winter hat off his head, revealing his cutely dishevelled hat hair, and pulls the fabric down over your head roughly.

"Hey! Watch it. I can't see!"

He just laughs, thumbs pushing back the material to reveal your eyes, the fond curve of his lips coming into view when your vision adjusts. His hand pats the bobble on the end of the hat amusedly, like he's satisfied with his work. You pout. "What? It looks cute. Now come on, keep your head down and no one will ever know it's us."

You shoot a final wide eyed glance at the camera. You had already lost one dream and you couldn't afford to lose another. And if you lost it because of your own stupidity...

To your surprise, Seokjin's mitten covered hand slides into yours and its the feeling of his big palm enveloping your own that brings you back down. Something about the way he squeezes gently is comforting and fills you with a warmth that makes the December night feel a lot less chilly.

Seokjin smiles when you squeeze back. "Ready?"

"Ready."

And then, before you can change your mind, your feet are following Seokjin's as you run together in a fit of giggles past the cameras towards a back campus entrance, a funny feeling of elation fizzing through your veins as Seokjin swaps the hand he's holding so that he can use his dominant one to fiddle with the key in the lock.

"Remind me again, little miss law student." After a few tense heartbeats, the door swings open, and Seokjin flashes you a mischievous grin. "Is stealing the ice hockey coach's key so you can sneak in to the ice rink after dark illegal?"

Your eyes widen as he disappears into the dark entrance. "Very illeg- woah!"

Before you can protest, Seokjin's arms wrap around your waist, dragging you inside with him. Your hands curl around his neck automatically when he swings you around and around until you're both dizzy and spluttering with laughter in the darkness.

"Seokjin! Stop! Where are we?" You murmur into his hair when he finally sets you down on your feet, chests flush together as he backs up so that your shoulder blades press against the wall.

"Can I ask you something?" He whispers, suddenly serious. Your eyes have barely adjusted to the low light but you can tell his lips are inches from yours and you shiver when his warm breath tickles your nose.

Your hand instinctively reaches out to brush away the bangs covering his eyes, breath catching in your throat when Seokjin's brown pupils bore into your own, close enough to see the frost on his dark lashes.

"Of course," You manage to squeak, suddenly aware of how you've been holding your breath. "What is it?"

Did you miss me as much as I missed you? Can I kiss you?

You squeeze your eyes shut when his lips brush your forehead. He smells of minty shampoo and you're sure your heart is beating so fast it's going to escape from your chest any second. If you just lean up a little, place a hand on his shoulder and stand on your tippy toes...

"Why shouldn't you tell jokes while ice skating?" He whispers against your skin. His voice sounds hoarser than before and you notice the way his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows hard. Is he trying as hard as you are not to kiss him?

"Enlighten me." You breathe.

He keeps drawing ever closer and you pucker your lips...

"Because the ice might crack up."

Your eyes snap open just as he finishes leaning in, reaching over your shoulder to flick a switch that has the whole room lighting up before you.

Oh.

You're briefly disappointed until your eyes finally adjust, and you can't help but gasp at the sight akin to a winter wonderland before you. Strings of Christmas lights are suspended carefully over the familiar campus ice rink you know and love, glimmering like multicoloured snowflakes in the ice's reflection. The bleachers are lined with frosted Christmas trees flashing with silver tinsel and baubles that glint like river-light against the night.

You bite your lip but that doesn't stop elated laughter from escaping you, throwing your arms around Seokjin's neck, his own deep chuckle joining in when he staggers and barely keeps his balance.

"I've missed you." You say when you finally come down and you're both just staring at each other giddily now.

"Even the dad jokes?" The nod into his neck in confirmation makes Seokjin punch the air, though his laugh suddenly trails off and he starts to wring his hands nervously a moment later. "You might regret saying that when I tell you why we're here..."

"Seokjin?"

He flashes you a sheepish smile.

"Surprise! I'm gonna teach you how to skate again!"

"Absolutely not!"

"Come on, you said you trusted me remember?" You feel the colour drain from your face, Seokjin's fingers tightening around your wrist when you try to back step. "I can tell how much you miss it, don't you wanna be able to perform again?"

The memory of how it felt to glide around the ice is enough to make you shiver, a longing settling in your stomach for the cheers of the crowd as you land a perfect jump mingling with your skates scraping the ice.

For the feeling of being free again. That's what you miss more than anything in the world.

"I do." You bite your lip. "But..."

"But?"

"But I'm broken, Seokjin! Just like Jimin said."

"Hey. Look at me." Seokjin whispers when you turn away, probably able to see the glassiness of your eyes as his forefinger bumps beneath your chin. "You're not broken, okay? You're just scared."

You hug your torso. "Well duh. What if something happens? What if I fall again but this time my injuries don't heal? Or worse what if you fall—?"

Seokjin squeezes your shoulders gently and you realise that you're rambling. You trail off when you find him smiling at you reassuringly. "Listen. We don't have to do this if you don't want to. It's completely up to you. But if you do decide to start skating again, I promise I'll be there to pick you back up when you fall okay? Just like you did with me."

A sudden confidence grips you. Freedom feels so close again you could touch it. Who better to experience it with than Seokjin?

"Okay. Let's do it. I want to skate again."

Before you know it you're sat on the bleachers, sliding your feet into a pair of skates Seokjin retrieved from the lost and found closet. Your shaky fingers pause when they find the laces. Seokjin's warmth appears beside you.

"You okay?"

He's frowning and you realise your teeth are chattering with nerves. "Mhm. Just cold."

"You can be honest with me, you know." Seokjin gets to his knees and gently swats away your hands from your skates, his own fingers deftly stringing the laces. "I know this must be hard for you."

"I'm just nervous." You swallow.

"I'll be by your side the entire time." Seokjin assures. "And if you even come close to falling I'll catch you. I'm not captain of the team for nothing right?"

You snort and kick him with the toe of your skate teasingly. Seokjin's tongue pokes out of the corner of his chapped lips as he concentrates on tying your laces into a neat bow, glancing up at you to check they're tight enough and flushing when he meets your gaze head on. It's endearing and gets your heart racing, and not just with anticipation or nerves any more.

"Promise?" Your voice shakes.

His hand covers yours in your lap. It's mitten covered and warm against your frost bitten skin. "Promise." He scratches his neck. "But if you want to back out at any time just tell me and we can forget this ever happened—"

"No!" You quip, squeezing his shoulder. "I want to do this. With you."

Seokjin flashes you a smile and offers you his elbow. "Then what are we waiting for?"

Panic rises like bile in your throat as you get closer and closer to the the rink.

"No, no, no." You freeze up. "I can't!"

"You can." Seokjin insists, wrapping an arm around your waist as he guides you to the very edge. "Just don't think about it too much."

Don't think about it? How can you not think about it when your heart is beating a million miles an hour and your vision is blurring and you feel like you're going to pass out every time your body tells you to run run run as far away from the danger as possible?

"Look." Seokjin uses the barrier to lift himself onto the ice, sliding his feet back and forth to convince you. "I'm okay, right? Haven't fallen yet."

"Yet." You swallow, gripping the barrier to keep your balance even though you're still stood on solid ground.

"I won't." He offers you a hand. "Now come on. It's your turn."

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You'll be fine if you just stand on the ice right? Baby steps.

Your palm slides into his and before you can change your mind you're launching yourself forward, eyes squeezed shut as you simply glide straight ahead into Seokjin's open arms. Relief washes over you when he holds you tight and you're safe again, one eye opening carefully to check you're really balancing on the ice and not a pile of limbs on the ground.

"See! That wasn't so bad right?" You shake your head. "Now you just gotta remember how to move..."

Your eyes widen. "Seokjin, I think this is enough for today—"

"Wait!" Seokjin fiddles with the zipper of his pocket to retrieve his phone, removing one of his gloves so he can tap at the screen. "We can't do this without music."

A few seconds later Seokjin is pressing play on a slow track he has downloaded on his phone and sliding one of his earbuds into your ear, the other into his own. You recognise it instantly as it's the same one you used to perform to when he begged you to teach him a routine five years ago. He grabs you by the arm again and smiles, big and bright. "Perfect. Ready?"

You're squeezing Seokjin's hand so tight you're sure the circulation to his fingers must be cutting off but he doesn't say anything, just keeps his other hand protectively at the small of your back as you slowly start to slacken your vice like grip on the barrier.

To your surprise, your feet move without you telling them too, naturally gliding along the slippery surface as if they've never been away from it. Muscle memory, you figure, as you find yourself beginning to gain some speed.

"I'm doing it!" You pant, relief washing over you as the breeze hits your face. "I can't believe I'm doing it!"

Your eyes are glued to Seokjin's skates, focusing hard on moving your own in time with his every step. You feel his chuckle vibrate through you and you don't even have to look up to know his eyes are shining.

"See? I knew you could."

The music humming through the headphones reaches its pivotal moment and you've done this routine so many times you know what move comes next. A one foot spin.

A bout of fear ripples through you again but Seokjin's right there to soothe you when he sees your eyes widening as he starts to twirl you around. "Just let go!"

"Let go." You repeat to yourself, finally taking your fingers away from the barrier as you lift one skate from the ice and begin to spin and spin and spin until the cold wind burns your skin and you're so dizzy you don't know whether to laugh or cry.

You don't even notice the music has stopped until you come to a shaky standstill. You're gasping for breath and Seokjin is just staring at you, mouth open.

"Damn. I forgot how good you are."

"Shut up." You're grinning now, elation coursing through every fibre of your being. "Let's go again! — ah!"

All the spinning messed with your vision and it feels like everything goes into slow motion as your legs crumble beneath your weight and your body collides with the cold ice. All you can hear is your heart, pumping into overdrive with fear as you close your eyes and brace for the pain in your leg to begin.

Except confusion settles in the pit of your stomach when it never does. You wriggle you're toes, relieved that they seem to still work and then you're sitting up in a daze.

Seokjin's face appears over yours, eyes filled with fear as he pulls your head into his lap. "Are you hurt? I'm so sorry Y/N, I never should have brought you here, this was a bad idea—"

Exhilarated laughter interrupts his concerned rambling and before you know it you're clutching your stomach and wiping happy tears from your eyes.

You're not broken! You're. Not. Broken. And for the first time since the accident you feel free again, like all the anger and hurt and sadness inside you just melted away to nothing.

"Huh? Did you hit your head?" He asks confused, coughing bashfully when you throw your arms tightly around his neck.

"Thank you! For bringing me here. Can we go again?"

Seokjin helps you to your feet but stops you from getting ahead of yourself. "I think this was enough for today but how about we agree to meet here again tomorrow at say...3PM?"

You reach out a now steady hand for him to shake. "Deal."

The next few weeks fly by when you have skating with Seokjin to look forward to every day.

As time goes by you start to regain your confidence, the panic that used to paralyse you whenever you set foot on the ice dissipating whenever Seokjin was around to reassure you.

You feel lighter than ever, like you're on top of the world. It's like everything is falling into place again. You have your skating back but more importantly you have Seokjin. And just being with him is like you're going at full speed on the ice, adrenaline and freedom coursing through you even when you're stood still.

It's like time stops when you're together just you and him and the ice, and that's how Seokjin finds himself running across campus in his ice hockey gear, late for practice again.

"So much for being a 'good captain.' Seokjin doesn't even turn up and he gets a college scholarship?" Park Jimin rolls his eyes at Jennie who is perched on his knee. Since Seulgi cut things off with him after his little show at the parade they've been pretty cosy, mostly because of their shared hatred for you and Seokjin respectively. "It's all that girl's fault."

"Who? Y/N?" Jennie says. "Ugh, I know. She's so full of it. I swear she thinks she's some pro skater or something."

"I mean, she is pretty good." Jimin confesses, stroking Jennie's thigh when she furrows her brows, smiling meekly. "But you're better, obviously."

"I don't know." She murmurs with a huff. "I was kinda glad when she stopped skating, y'know, because it meant that I was top of the league again. If she starts competing again..."

Jimin's eyes suddenly brighten with an idea. "Then we only have one option."

"What?"

"For me to become captain and for you to stay at the top, we gotta finish them once and for all."

"I like your thinking." Jennie purrs, but not before Seokjin runs into the campus locker rooms, out of breath as he fastens his ice hockey helmet around his chin.

"Sorry I'm late! I promise it won't happen—"

"Again?" Jimin scoffs, gesturing around at the rest of the team who are packing up their things. "Dude, you missed the whole of practice. We couldn't wait any longer so we had to start without you. Without our captain."

Seokjin throws his duffel bag into his locker, slamming the door shut a little too harshly. "And I said I'm sorry." A hush falls over the room, all eyes landing on the pair locked in a stare out. "I'll go practice now to make up for it, okay?"

He's hardly through the door when he hears Jimin snicker under his breath to Jennie. "This is why I'm telling coach he shoulda made me captain."

Seokjin freezes. "What did you say, Park?"

Jimin lets out a deep chuckle, standing up and squaring his shoulders though he's still a couple feet shorter than Seokjin. "I said that you're a shitty captain and I'm gonna take your place and your scholarship at the game on Christmas Eve."

"With your technique?" Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. "Tell me a funnier joke, Jimin."

"The only joke is your pathetic excuse for a skater girlfriend," Jennie spits, appearing behind Jimin and wrapping her arm around his waist in solidarity. "Maybe if you spent more time with your actual team instead of teaching that lost cause to ice skate you wouldn't feel so threatened."

"I'm not threatened." Seokjin clenches his fists. "...and she's not my girlfriend."

"Then prove it."

The contours of his face harden, jaw tense and shaking with a desire to set Park Jimin well and truly straight clouding his rationality as words he doesn't mean come flying out of his mouth before he can think better of it.

"Y/N means nothing to me, okay? I'm just teaching her to skate again because I feel bad about her accident." A finger pokes Jimin's chest harshly. Jennie seems startled. "And you're right. Maybe it is getting in the way of my focus. But guess what? From now on I'm only gonna be focused on beating your ass at the game on Christmas Eve and taking the scholarship that belongs to me."

"What?" A small voice sounds somewhere behind him and when Seokjin turns he finds you stood clutching the red scarf he left behind at the rink.

He can tell by the paleness of your face and the way your lip quivers that you heard everything. And before he can reach for you and explain, you're fleeing from the rink in a flood of angry tears for ever letting Seokjin melt the ice in your heart, even for a second.

"Y/N! Please wait!" Seokjin tugs at his hair exasperatedly, turning back to Jimin who is clapping with a dark smile.

"Looks like you have a choice to make, Seokjin."

"Go away, Seulgi." You grumble as your blanket cocoon is ripped away from your body. You hear the footsteps of your best friend patter across the carpet to the window, the light that floods into the room when she rips open the drapes making you groan. "It's too bright."

"Come on, time to get up!" You yelp when a perfectly manicured hand wraps around your ankle, dragging you away from the warmth and comfort of the body-shaped dent in your mattress. "This situation officially requires an intervention! And as your best friend I am taking it upon myself to get your ass out of bed."

It's been almost a week since you last saw Seokjin. Almost a week since he crushed your heart like glass and stamped on the shattered remains and threw them into the garbage disposal when you found out you were just his charity case and nothing more.

And more importantly, it's been almost a week since you realised just how real your feelings were for him. Are for him.

After a small struggle Seulgi wins, despite how erratically you kick your legs in a bid to break free from her grip, and you end up landing with a thud in a pile of blankets and throw cushions on the floor. You rub your eyes with a sigh. "An intervention?"

"Yeah. It's been, like, a whole week since I've seen you leave this room Y/N. I have skating practice in half an hour and you're coming with."

Seulgi gets down cross legged, shuffling up beside you and pulling the blanket over both of your laps. When you finally blink at her blearily for the first time you see her flame-like hair has been scraped back into a tight ponytail and she's wearing a matching mesh skating outfit, clearly ready for practice.

"Thanks but no thanks." You snort. "As much as that sounds thrilling I'm good here."

Seulgi shakes her head and prods your shoulder, sing song voice hardening into a lecture. "You can't hibernate forever, Y/N."

"Can too." Your fingers find a loose thread in the throw cushion in your lap, picking at it mercilessly to avoid looking your best friend in the face for fear that she would see through your facade. "I like hibernating. It's fun."

"Fun?" Seulgi rolls her eyes. A few seconds pass before she lets out a gentle sigh, her voice softening. "Listen...have you spoken to Seokjin yet—"

You wince. Just the mention of Seokjin makes your heart pang.

"No." Your voice wavers. "And I'm not planning on it. How can I after what happened?" Finally allowing yourself to talk about it feels good and before you know it you're burying your head in your hands and letting everything go. "God, I'm so embarrassed, Seulgi."

"Oh, Y/N." Her hand rubs your back soothingly. "What really happened between you two? Why did you run?"

You swallow hard. "I just...got scared."

"Of skating again? You seemed to be doing better since you started training with Seokjin..."

"No. I was scared of..."

"Your feelings for him?"

You pause, unable to help the small smile that creeps onto your lips even despite the warm tears that have started to roll unceremoniously down your cheeks.

"How do you always manage to read my mind?"

"I'm your best friend remember?" Seulgi draws a line between your foreheads before she wraps her arms around your waist and lays her head on your shoulder. You squeeze her back, silently thanking her for being there when you need her. "Besides, it's not like you've been hiding it. Whenever he's around you go all heart eyes for him." She grimaces. "I'm starting to see why you used to complain about me and Jimin so much."

"Do not!" You grumble, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks when she shoots you an are you serious? look. "Okay fine, lets say theoretically I am all heart eyes for him? What's the point in even admitting it when everything is messed up now, anyway? He said it himself. He never felt the same way about me."

"Well, theoretically, I would tell you to just talk to him. Bottling up your feelings isn't gonna change anything. Besides, I think you still have a chance at making things right. I've seen him waiting around outside the rink after hours. For you."

You avert your eyes. Seokjin? Waiting outside the rink? For you?

"He was probably just passing by or something." You grumble with a shake of your head.

"Everyday this week?" She raises an eyebrow. "Seokjin is good for you, Y/N. You've been different since he turned up...good different. Back to the Y/N we all know and love."

"If you love me so much why won't you let me sleep for a little while longer?"

"Please, you know it's just because I need my honorary wingwoman back. Kim Taehyung is coming by the rink tonight." It's your turn to raise an eyebrow. Seulgi laughs. "Okay maybe it's because I love you a little bit. I think getting back to normal and being at the rink will lift your spirits. Whaddya say?"

You roll your eyes but Seulgi doesn't miss the curve of your lips. "Fine."

She claps her hands gleefully, jumping to her feet and rummaging through your closet. She throws a Christmas sweater at your head. "I'll be waiting in the car!" She skips out of the room, humming the tune of a vaguely recognisable Christmas song beneath her breath. You shake your head fondly when wisps of her red hair poke back around the doorframe a moment later. "Oh, and don't forget to dress warm. There's gonna be a blizzard tonight, remember?"

A few minutes later you're sat in front of your mirror, brushing the frizz out of your hair in a bid to look somewhat presentable when Seulgi knocks on your door again. You roll your eyes. She's always impatient.

"Uhh, Y/N?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" You yell, grabbing your coat. "Hang on!"

"There's someone here to see you."

Your bag drops to the carpet with a thump when you round the corner and see him stood on the doorstep.

"Seokjin?"

Well, you can't see much of him because he's wrapped head to toe in snow gear and he has a huge box in his arms with a red bow on top and there's snow all over his coat but seeing him again makes your chest constrict none the less.

Seulgi still has her fingers on the door handle and she's looking between the pair of you with wide eyes as you just stare long and hard. "Well, I guess I'll leave you two to it then." She sings, but it sounds squeaky and forced as she wraps a scarf around her neck, ready to face the blizzard outside. "Y/N, you know where I am if you need me."

You manage to get out a nod and then Seulgi is awkwardly shuffling around Seokjin who is blocking the doorway and seems to have forgotten how to use his feet.

It's not until the cold air from outside starts to permeate the cosy warmth from your crackling fire place that you realise Seokjin is really here — and he's still standing outside in the goddamn blizzard like he wants to become a human snowman.

His voice brings you back down with a jolt.

"Can I come inside?"

Slanted shadows cascade across Seokjin's face as he peers through the blinds. The street outside is buried beneath a blanket of snow, and even from where you sit with your chin in your palm on the back of the couch you can see an icy flurry of flakes falling from the sky like frozen jewels beneath the glow of the street lights.

"Doesn't look like anyone's gonna be driving anywhere tonight." Seokjin murmurs. "This blizzard seems pretty severe."

You raise your eyebrow with a sigh. First Seokjin turns up on your doorstep unannounced, teeth chattering and covered in snow, and now he's gonna have to spend the night here? With you?

Seulgi sent you a text to let you know she was going to be staying with Taehyung for the night (wolf whistle) and follows up with some flirty emojis and a comment about enjoying your alone time with Seokjin which you can't see happening anytime soon what with the thick tension that sits heavy in the air.

Yeah, this could not get any more awkward, right?

Wrong.

"Thank you for the dry clothes." Seokjin gestures to the much-too-small hoodie that stretches across his torso and the jogging pants that barely reach his calves. The biggest items of clothing you could find in the clean laundry basket to replace his snow-sodden tshirt and jeans that had become transparent in some places by the time you invited him inside. If the situation weren't so tense you'd find it funny. "I thought you were gonna leave me out there all night and let me freeze to death for a minute."

You don't laugh, just keep your eyes on the dark swirls of hot cocoa you stir in two steaming mugs. He flashes you an awkward too soon? smile when you hand the largest mug to him, watching as he takes a grateful sip and sighs when it warms his insides.

A few seconds of silence pass interrupted only by the crackle of the blazing fire that creates orange flickering shadows over the contours of his face while you curl up on the opposite end of the couch beneath the patchwork blanket Seulgi bought you last December.

Finally you let out a sigh, looking at him properly for the first time. He seems worn around the edges, eyes ringed a little red as he fiddles with his fingers awkwardly. There's a pang in your chest.

"Why are you here, Jin?" The waver in your voice makes Seokjin's eyes soften at the corners. "I thought we were over. Whatever we were..."

"I wanted to talk to you."

You raise an eyebrow. "Couldn't you have waited until after the blizzard passed?"

"I needed to talk to you. To tell you the truth."

The truth. Did he really drive all the way over here just to rub it in that you meant nothing to him?

"What?" You scoff bitterly. "That you never really liked me? That I was just a joke to you this whole time?"

"No!" Seokjin reaches for you, some of his hot cocoa sloshing onto his pants in the process. He retracts his hand when you flinch. "That I'm a shitty, selfish idiot who got too caught up in his own drama to see what mattered most."

You dig your fingernails into your palm and promise yourself not to cry. "Then what about those things you said to Jennie, huh? Explain that."

"The scholarship." He tugs at a hangnail with his teeth, eyes filled with remorse. "When you saw me talking to Jimin that day he was trying to make me mad. He told me that if I kept skating with you..."

Suddenly it all makes sense. A wave of relief and realisation washes over you. It feels like your heart stutters back to life and you suck in a shaky breath.

"He'd tell the coach you weren't committed and get you kicked off the team." Seokjin nods and you instantly feel guilty that you didn't hear his side of the story before, fury towards Jimin burning up in your veins as you shake your fists. "That asshole! He's been mad this whole time that you got made captain instead of him and now he wants to ruin your chance at a scholarship? I have every mind to kick him in his tiny, useless—"

"I'm the asshole, Y/N." Seokjin tears you out of your rage as he leans forward and buries his face in his hands, shoulders quivering. "I let him get in my head and make me say things I didn't mean when I don't even care about the scholarship if..."

Your mouth is suddenly dry. "If what?"

He runs a hand through his hair carefully, finally lifting his gaze to lock with yours. "If I can't have you."

It's like you've been punched in he stomach but in the best way and you want to jump for joy or squeal like a goddamn school girl but all you can do is sit there with your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

"But now I've lost you again and this time it's for good and I'm so so sorry—"

Before you can think better of it you're planting your hands on Seokjin's broad shoulders, throwing your leg over his lap and crashing your lips together.

"Mmf!" It takes a couple seconds for Seokjin to catch up but when he does he lets out a tiny gasp, chest melting against yours as his lips finally move in sync with your own. "Oh."

The way he sighs into your mouth is like he's been waiting forever for this and you feel a similar sense of satisfaction, finally able to curb the craving for him that has been aching inside you for Seokjin for as long as you can remember.

"You haven't lost me." You pant when you bring yourself to break away for a breath. "And you're not an asshole. You've been working towards this scholarship for years so—"

It's his turn to cut you off now, Seokjin's fingers hooking beneath your chin and tilting your head towards him so that he can press his lips against yours in a tentative kiss, swallowing your words in transit.

It's slow and languid, the way he slots his plump bottom lip between yours, making you melt instantly. His cheeks feel warm and soft in your hands as you cup them, the action feeling somehow just as natural as the warmth blossoming in your chest when Seokjin moves his lips against your own with an impossible tenderness.

"I missed you so much." Your eyes are still squeezed shut when he places a peck to the tip of your nose, tucking a stray hair behind your ear as he forces you to look at him by bumping your chin playfully. "I'm sorry."

You pull him closer to you, so close you're sure he can feel the way your heart is beating like a drum. "Don't be. Just kick Jimin's ass at the game tomorrow, okay?"

"I can do that."

He smirks, leaning in for another kiss but hissing when his crotch brushes your thigh a little too directly that has a warmth pulsing between your legs when you feel the big problem he seems to be trying to hide.

You gasp. "Are you...?"

"Maybe..." A groan passes his lips and he tips his head back bashfully, unable to curb his smile when you start giggling into the crook of his neck. "What? I've been imagining this moment for years."

"Then hurry up and kiss me again, idiot."

This time the kiss is hungrier, tongue and teeth tangling together as his hands tighten in your hair. He tastes like hot cocoa and you can't help but groan when his tongue languidly brushes against yours, hips starting to press down into his teasingly.

"Need more, need you — oh!"

"A-are you sure? I'm good just kissing if you don't wanna..."

"No! I want to." You promise. "I trust you."

"Good." Seokjin's lips murmur next to your ear as his fingers dig into the underneath of your thighs, the hardness in his pants pressing against your stomach as he gets to his feet and you throw your legs around his waist with a squeal. "Because I don't think I could handle a whole night here with you like this." Seokjin's teeth pull at your bottom lip and you open your mouth to groan but Seokjin's eyes flutter closed and he ends up staggering straight into the elaborately arranged Christmas tree that Seulgi spent hours decorating. "Shit!"

You both freeze, staring at the mess of tinsel and lights scattered across the ground before you're shrugging your shoulders with a whoops! and guiding Seokjin to your bedroom as he chuckles beneath you. The decorations can be cleaned up later but you need Seokjin now.

Throw cushions soften the blow as you're dropped onto the bed and Seokjin crawls over you, parting your legs with his knee and wasting no time in attacking your neck with his lips. He smirks against your collar bone when you shiver as his hands creep up the hem of your sweater and you rotate your hips impatiently against his thigh, desperate for some relief from the throbbing ache in your heat.

"Can I?" You nod and he wastes no time lifting the garment over your head and you reach behind to unclasp your bra, a shaky breath leaving Seokjin when his eyes roam across your bare breasts, sitting back against his heels to drink in every inch of skin.

"You're beautiful." A heat rises in your cheeks when he attaches his lips to your hardened nipple, lavving his tongue over the bud, a groan tumbling from his chest when you tangle your hands in his hair and arch your back, desperate for more.

"Please." You whimper, hands feeling for the waistband of his sweats when he comes up for air with a pop. "Wanna feel you."

The rise and fall of his chest quickens when your warm palm grasps him over the fabric, pads of his fingers tightening around your thigh when you sit up so you can slip your hand into his boxers, letting out a moan of your own when your fingers finally wrap around the girth of him.

He's hot and hard and heavy in your palm and your heart skips a beat when your thumb spreads the bead of precum leaking from his tip down his shaft, the slick movement of your hand as you begin to stroke him increasingly faster making his head fall into the crook of your neck.

"F-fuck Y/N." He bucks up into your fist and you smirk. "F-feels so good. Been imagining this."

"Me too." You confess, giggling when he grabs your wrist and flips you over so he can press you into the mattress again. "Can't believe this is happening."

"Me either." His fingertips run down your sides tentatively, hooking beneath the band of your jeans which are quickly stripped away and thrown across the room with a grin. He stops when he gets to your panties though, glancing up through his dark lashes, eyes ever gentle and filled with a combination of lust and fondness that you know you'll never be able to get enough of. "Are you sure?"

Your heart thumps with anticipation as you nod, pulling him down to connect your lips. "I'm sure." And with your confirmation Seokjin is dragging the lacy fabric down your bare legs slowly until they join the rest of your clothes on the floor.

Seokjin's eyes dip between your legs when you part them shyly, an involuntary oh my god slipping past his lips when he sees how your folds glisten with wetness, palm coming between your legs so you can grind your neglected clit against the heel of it while he slips a finger into your tight heat.

"Oh!" The intrusion makes you writhe, on one hand grateful for some relief but on the other ever more eager to feel fuller. The pads of his fingers drag against your walls deliciously and the pressure on your clit is just right and you feel your climax steadily build between your legs. "Wait!"

Seokjin pauses and you take advantage of his momentary confusion by flipping him onto his back, bracing your hands on his chest. "Wanna make you feel good too."

"H-how..." Seokjin starts, but then your hand is wrapping around his cock and lining the tip up with your entrance before sinking down to the hilt with a soft exhale that mingles with Seokjin's. "Fuck."

It takes a couple seconds for you to adjust to the size of him and you rest your cheek on his chest, listening to the way his heart beats uncontrollably. His fingers stroke your hair and you feel so overwhelmed with warmth that you're sure of it now; you're in love with Kim Seokjin.

"Ready?" His nod is eager and when you start to move your hips his head throws back into the pillows and you can see the way his adams apple bobs every time his cock nearly falls out of your heat before your slamming back down again in a steady rhythm.

Eventually you feel the coil in your belly start to tighten again, eyes rolling back as you lose yourself to the feeling of his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust and you're a mess of whimpers and breathy moans. Seokjin's big palms come up to cup your ass, holding you steady so he can pound his own hips up to meet your movements at an even faster pace than before.

"Seokjin!" You cry, bracing yourself with a hand on the wall behind the bed. The angle has your clit grinding against his pubic bone with every upward thrust and before you know it you're shuddering and reaching your high, vision turning black as you feel your walls tighten impossibly hard around Seokjin, the action enough to have him falling over the edge with you.

A few seconds pass where your pants of satisfaction just mingle together before Seokjin is cupping your face and whispering the three words you've always wanted to hear against your lips.

"I love you." He croaks, the sincerity in his voice making the corners of your lips turn up. And in that moment you feel the last pieces of your heart flutter into his hands and you know you are undeniably, irrevocably, forever and always his.

Seokjin suddenly flips you onto your back, leaving a series of playful kisses all over your face, each punctuated by a sillier "I love you!" until you're pushing him away by the chest and snuggling up into his side instead, head on his arm where you feel so safe and warm you never want to leave.

"Can I ask you something?" You whisper shyly. He nods, eyes falling shut as he plays with your hair contentedly.

"Why did you leave without telling me before?"

Seokjin brushes your noses together. "Because I knew I wouldn't be able to leave if you told me not to go."

You smile up at him, thumb tracing his jaw fondly. "You cheesy idiot."

Realisation flashes across his face. "Wait! I forgot about the cheesiest thing yet." You groan when he throws the covers off, assaulting you with a blast of cold air as he pulls his pants back on and disappears back into the living room. His head pokes around the doorframe cheekily, something hidden behind his back as he stalks back over to the bed, eyes glinting. "I got you something."

You furrow your brows when he produces the large box from earlier, now able to read your own name scrawled across the gift tag in his messy handwriting.

"Surprise!" He holds it out for you to take. "I wanted to wait until Christmas but now feels like the right time to give it to you."

Your fingers shake with excitement as they carefully untie the ribbon and remove the lid, revealing an abundance of pink tissue paper surrounding a pair of the most beautiful ice skates you have ever seen. The very same ice skates you remember seeing in that shop display at the Christmas market all those weeks ago, except the laces have been swapped out for a pair of candy-cane coloured ones, just like the miniature ornament he once gave you has been brought to life.

"Seokjin." Tears well in the corners of your eyes as you turn them over in your hands in pure disbelief. "They're really mine?"

He nods, scratching the back of his neck anxiously. "Do you like them?"

"I love them." You assure him, scrambling to your knees so you can plant your hands on his shoulders and kiss him hard and slow. "But I love you more."

His face heats up a rosy red and he pulls you into his chest to avoid the evidence (and the cheesy grin appearing on his face.)

"Impossible."

“Wait!” You sit up suddenly with a pout. “But I didn’t get you anything.”

Seokjin just laughs. “You’re the best Christmas gift I coulda asked for.”

It's Christmas Eve and you're sat in the bleachers, eyes glued to the number 33 jersey moving swiftly around a group of defence men on the ice below.

Through the unruly cheers of the crowd you can hear the faint throb of your own heartbeat pulsing in your chest, breathing rigid as the game gets tense — there's one minute left, the score is 2:2, and the opposition is pretty good for a college team — but you know Seokjin is better and you cross your fingers tightly as you see him steal the puck.

With a sharp flick of his wrist he launches the black puck into the air. It spins a few times before it slams into the net and the crowd around you erupts into a frenzy. Your heart beats with pride as his team mates lift him onto their shoulders, punching the air and thumping his back in elated congratulations. Even the scholarship board who you can see sat in the front row seem impressed, nodding their heads and scribbling furiously in their notebooks.

Kim Seokjin! Kim Seokjin! Kim Seokjin!

Seokjin lands back on his feet and then he's ripping off his helmet, cupping his forehead, and squinting up through the harsh reflection of the ice at the bleachers, scanning every single face until his eyes land on yours and a giant grin tugs at the corners of his lips. Suddenly it's as if everyone around you disappears and it's just you and him against the world.

But the moment is interrupted when Seokjin is suddenly knocked off his feet by another body moving at full speed. Park Jimin. You know it's him because you can see his hard eyes peering out from between the bars of his helmet as he throws his hockey stick down on the ice and angrily swings himself over the barrier so he can storm out of the rink.

A cacophony of gasps sound around you. The whistle blows. Seokjin is flat against the ice. Your heart starts to pound.

"Come on Seokjin. Get up. Please get up." You cross your fingers behind your back, brushing away the searing fear that runs hot in your veins telling you to run, that he's injured beyond repair. "Get up!"

And then, he gets up.

Before Seokjin can reach the edge of the rink you're running down the bleachers, pushing through the crowd to get to him. He's breathing heavily when he pulls off his helmet but that doesn't stop the beaming smile that appears on his face when he sees you coming his way.

"You're an idiot!" You whisper into his neck when you crash into him full force. His arms curl around your back, legs wobbling in his skates as he tries to find his balance and prevent you both from falling. "You could have gotten hurt! Or worse!"

"But I didn't, did I?" Seokjin cocks an eyebrow. "Not even gonna congratulate your boyfriend on his smashing win?"

Seokjin chuckles when you shake your head and hit his chest with a pout that desperately wants to turn into a smile. His eyes soften when they meet yours and you instinctively unwind your scarf and drape it around his neck when his teeth start to chatter.

You finally give in to the way the corners of your mouth tug. "Just shut up and kiss me already."

"Gladly." Seokjin chuckles, pulling your face into his hands and planting his lips on yours.

[tylerwritez]

Hey guys its uhhh Saturday July 3rd 2021 9:53 a.m.

I literally got 1-2 hours of sleep •_• because I was up into the earliest hours of the morning talking to Jay and Ariel.

... Its homophobic that Jay was away /j :P and not in my room that night because... how do I say this without saying too much... he turns me on, simple. He's in LEDUC. DUDE. COME BACK I WANT TO FUCK YOU /HJ

I told him this before you guys, but my brain does this thing where it randomly sends me back to some memory and I have to live through the feelings yknow? And I twitch a bit. Well my brain has been sending me back to almost entirely memories of him now. And it's. Not even funny. My crush on him grows...

Oh well, I'm patient.

The forums last night were as usual, unhelpful. My dad looks at me as if I'm a tragedy, as if my skin is a crime scene, and we have a total of *drumroll* TWO COMMENTS! One of them was okay in helpfulness. They mostly just wanted to write about their tattoo cover up of their scars but. They were right about how you are the only person who gets to decide what you think about your scars.

If he thinks of me like that... doesnt mean I HAVE to think of my own self that same way.

So true.

Next person said maybe he doesnt think I'm damaged, maybe hes just gawking at the damage done to me?? And how he couldnt stop it?

And like isnt that the same thing honestly.

Oh hey, yeah I gotta tell you about TODAY. not yesterday or last night.

Well uhm I just woke up on my BEDFRAMELESS BED Cos they packed it and left me with the MATRESS xD (I wonder if this is their way of cockblocking me /j)

I got ready and uh I was told like, GET THE FUCK UP DUDE WE R GOING TO THE LAKE RIGHT FUCKING NOWWW

So I'm rushing 2 get ready... well not really rushing. I don't rush. I was getting ready. I go to brush my hair and theres NO BRUSH. ITS BEEN PACKED???? WHAT???

I did my best with what I had on hand and then we left

I'm in the car with my friend and annoying ass sister right now and I got music on

We got Tim Hortons (muffin + ice capp) for breakfast (already over my cal limit... •_• as if that's getting followed nowadays)

lol I dont usually eat breakfast tho so I'll try to skip lunch or have a light lunch, so it doesn't mess me up.

Right now as we are driving to the lake... it's mostly canola fields. Theres lots of canola grown where I'm from lol, just drive a little bit out and you'll see the fields and fields of bright yellow like millions of little highlighters sticking up from the grass. I cant make them out individually though... still waiting on those contact lenses.

Again, I'm patient.

I don't think we're super far out... I mean theres still lots of cars, signs, farms, roadside ads, trees, uh, shrubs, and if we WERE further out the land would be more bare... #grassland #praries #Alberta

Also the sun just makes everyhting look more alive.

Oh NOO IM DESCRIBING THE SCENERY... boring!

Idk. There isn't much to discuss, I'm just listening to music because I'm content with just that. If I come up with anything funny/Insightful(?) I'm gonna make a twitter draft.

10:17 a.m, signing off temporarily,

Judas/Jude Shepard.

4:25 p.m.

We got to the lake, talked, got ice cream, talked, went in the #water... lake stuff.

My friend was gushing over this guy and like...  DILF. IF YOU SAW HIM... xD of course I'm just looking though. He just had big pecs which is attractive to me, and the overall build with these broad shoulders XD.

Tbh? I know me and Jay are TECHNICALLY not dating, but I feel like I'm dedicated to him. That's probably because of my crush on him but oh well.

I just keep thinking horny thoughts it's a plague within my brainnnnn and I know its his fault

I did end up asking him but by then he had already logged off so.... he'll respond soon and I gotta be ready. It appears that my mom is signing up for a Christian dating app... we'll see how that goes.

As for Jay's responding, I'll just tell him nevermind.

Anwyays we are headed back, possibly to the bookstore, possibly home.

I KNOW I talk a lot about the same things but that's because I'm infatuated with them.

I'm infatuated with... him.

I think of him in my mind and bam instant horny

I'll try to think of soemthing else,,, this is. Uh. Inconvenient right now.

I'll keep updating you though lol.

Hope I'm not annoying talking about Jay all the time.

I AM doing other stuff, I have a life. I just... I guess I unintentionally highlight certain parts a lot.

11:55 p.m.

IM EXHAUSTED GODDAMNIT MY DAD WAS MAD AT me...

... I wanted to ask to go to my friends house tommorowbut my dad is pissed at me for... closing my door??? dude omg hes like “what were you doing for two hours with the door closed” uhm reading? on my phone? jacking off? im a normal person lol. i said reading and on my phone which IS true and he said”sure...” all  sarcastic WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY?? YEAH I JACKED OFF???? stfu

hes not even mad at me hes mad cos my mom is goign on a date lolDONT TAKE IT OUT ON ME STFU

I'm dead.

So I didnt ask cos I was scared shitless lmaooo but I have an appointment anwyays so it works out.

I just read a bunch of this comic called outcast. That's it really. Now I'm gonna sleep after I post to twitter a bit...

ALSO I asked Jay finally about uh. Yeah. Scarring. and he said beauty is in the eye of the beholder. He said I was hot but then he said that on the other hand it feels weird when he runs his hands over them, but in general, he loves me.

So he said "I don't care if you have scars or not, you're still you"

I love him honestly hes so supportive.

I admit I'm a bit sad thinking they feel weird but honestly? Yeah. They do. I felt up my leg where the scars are to check and it feels like hard ribs/ridges to the touch of a hand but he still thinks I'm pretty so I'm not gonna let the scars get me down. Cos I'm still me. It's just scars. Doesn't affect anything.

:,)

Also erin found a hagstone!!!

Gn,

Jude Shepard

[jojparasol]

adore you

Okay it’s safe to say I was supposed to be writing this in inspiration of ‘cherry’ but i completely forgot and by the end, i based it on adore you instead soooo... Anyways, this will probably be a series that is connected through the song but not the stories if that makes any sense???? But this is now in celebration of adore you and i’ll most likely make a masterlist after a few more. Also, i haven’t answered any of my asks from months ago about the silver springs series so i apologise for not doing so, i’ll try be more active! Enjoy x

The one where Harry wants her, even after their breakup.

Word count: 1.6k

Angst and a smidgen of fluff

She answered the ringing phone across her room, stretching her body as she reached out for the vibrating device. Her eyebrows furrowed, looking at the five-letter name that filled the screen with no contact photo.

Harry.

Y/N let the phone ring, watching and counting in her head the number of times she let it ring.

One. Two. Three.

And it ended like that. She grabbed her phone, unlocking it before going to her missed calls, his contact name spread at the top of the screen. Her lips pointed to one side, wondering if he would call again or maybe she would.

God, she hasn’t seen that contact in forever. Of course, she’s seen the name, with the tabloids and social media where he’d sometimes pop up in her notifications if she posted, but it wasn’t too unusual. They ended off on good terms, she likes to think... But a piece of her knows the breakup wasn’t fair, with Y/N leaving him abruptly and it was safe to say that they both ended up in tears. Especially Harry - he didn’t want to break up with her at all but they concluded with Harry respecting her decision to leave. He reminded himself to be the man his mother raised him. She wanted to leave, not being able to handle the pressure of dating such a man and being too afraid. Heck, he even proclaimed his love for her, insisting she didn’t have to say it back but his plans never work out the way he desires. And so Harry’s dreams were set fire by fiends. 

Her thumb unconsciously tapped the screen and before she knew it, the phone was vibrating again but it was her turn to call. Unlike her response, he answered almost straight away.

It connected but silence filled the phones, only small sounds of rustling on the other side before a cough emitted through her speaker.

“Y/N?”

He sounded tired. His voice raspy, the one word said as if her name was delicate, rolling off his tongue with a simple stride. Harry missed saying her name, not that he called her by it much since he loved nicknames. But when he did, it toured him back to the first time they met, only calling her by her name before slowly introducing endearing terms that made her heart feel warm.

“Hi,” she let out a quick breath, closing her eyes as darkness blurred her vision.

“You answered.”

Opening her eyes, she held her breath before releasing, a shaking fan of air gasped from her lips.

“Did you need anything?” She asked, wanting to get straight to the point because if they dwelled along, the string would get tangled.

“I-I miss you. Y/N, please come over, jus’ for tonight,” he murmured barely above a whisper but she could hear the desperation lacing in his tone. Y/N ran her tongue across her teeth, slightly touching her lips as she looked outside her window.

“Are you okay Harry?”

“Please Y/N,” he ignored her question, almost begging on his knees. He missed everything — from her presence to her smile. “Jus’ one more night.”

Y/N barely heard his last words, her mind hitting hard against her goose-bumped skin, contemplating what she should do. Her love for Harry was crawling back up into the present, tugging on her heartstrings to just say yes. “Harry, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You breaking up with me wasn’t a good idea yet here we are.”

She frowned at his salty remark, knowing he wasn’t kidding and it was half true. Fumbling with her words, she let out an answer.

“Okay.”

When she ended the call, she didn’t realise how dark it was outside. Of course, she knew that it was late afternoon but the sun seemed to say goodbye a little earlier than usual. Nevertheless, she drove to the address that was imprinted in her mind like an instinct. Y/N wasn’t gonna lie when she pulled up into his driveway, she was hesitant to come out, almost wanting to steer her wheel back to the traffic. But she mentally slapped herself, dragging her body to the front porch and knock at his door. And when it opened, she almost wanted to cry.

Harry looked beautiful — maybe even more than usual, probably because there was a part of her that realised the absence of his being hurt her more than it should. His face was unshaven, scuffed and a little rough. His hair all messed and tousled while the only piece of clothing were sweatpants and a lavender robe that gave a sneak peek of his tattoos. His eyes were sunken as if all the forest colours were sucked out, filled with an undertone of grey that lacked life. Yet, Y/N still found him as gorgeous as ever.

“Y/N.” God. She was wrong when she thought that Harry saying her name over her phone sounded heavenly, she forgot what he sounded in real life. Y/N wasn’t able to speak, Harry beating her to it. “Come in.”

She nodded her head, following him through the living room as he sat down on the couch. A wave of memories rushed through her mind before she blanked out. “Harry, you don’t look okay.”

He let out a chuckle, thinking it was the most obvious thing ever. “No shit.”

Y/N simply shook her head, leading herself towards the kitchen to prepare themselves a cup of tea, knowing it was what he needed.

“You don’t need to do this Y/N.” She heard his voice come closer as she turned around from the counter, watching him take a seat in front of the island.

Y/N rubbed her hand against her temple. “Then what do you want from me?”

She was left with silence, letting out a frustrated sigh as she turned around, grabbing two mugs and pouring the newly brewed tea. Harry watched her intently, every action observed and noted in his memory. And to be honest, he didn’t even know exactly what he wanted from her — all he knew was that he just wanted her.

“How’s your life, Y/N?” What exactly was he trying to do? He didn’t want to know the basic bullshit of her life, he wanted something more and it seemed like both of them knew that.

Y/N let out a laugh, handing him the cup of tea as he gave thanks. She sat down next to him on the stool and took a small sip off of her cup. “Cut it, Harry.”

“Okay well, got any new guys?” He joked, taking a big sip of his beverage that warmed through the midst of their talking.

It was then that he noticed that she stayed silent. Almost too silent.

“Holy fuck.” He stood up abruptly, walking around the kitchen counter before rummaging through the cupboard as Y/N panicked.

“Harry, it’s not serious.” She watched as he kept shaking his head in detail, taking out a bottle of wine and pouring it into a tall glass. “We’re not even together, H.”

“B-but it’s only been a few months, Y/N!” He almost shouted, her whole body shifting immediately at his tone. “Fuck, I miss you so much.” His whole demeanour seemed to change, sobbing the last words out of his mouth, the glass of wine almost finished as he gulped it down within seconds. He continued repeating the same phrase and Y/N felt frozen, unbeknownst to the fire his heart was feeling in that moment. Publicly admitting his words made everything the mile more real.

He missed her, more than anything. He craved those small moments with her. From the one time, they stayed through the summer sky and into the night on her couch, their bodies filled with junk food as they cuddled up into each other, leaving little to no space for anything else. Or the one time that Y/N woke up in the middle of the night, begging Harry to take her to the nearest 24 hours McDonald's for a sundae. And although reluctant, by the time they were there, Harry’s pinkie finger was covered in ice cream, slathering it onto her nose as Y/N carelessly left kisses all over his face. And did he mention that her kisses were like a strawberry lipstick state of mind? It was those moments he craved. It gave him pure bliss, never feeling connected to the woman more than anyone in the world like he had just walked into her rainbow paradise. He was head over heels completely infatuated.

By the time tears were escaping, Y/N had rushed towards him, her arms wrapping around his figure. He hugged back the instant he felt the familiar embrace, his head nestling into her neck as he continued mumbling how much he missed her.

“I missed you too.” She tightened the grip around them, almost tearing up herself again. They stood still for a silent minute just to bathe in each other’s presence and collect their hurt. But it was when Harry spoke up that they slightly let go, their face only inches away.

“Would you believe it? Would you believe that I’d do anything for you? Probably walk through fire for you. You don’t even have to be mine for me to do all that,” he breathed out as Y/N nodded profusely, their lips almost touching.

But she moved her head a little backwards, giving her enough space to wipe the stray tears that left Harry’s tired eyes, feeling the softness of his skin against her thumb before pulling away. “I know.”

Harry drawing her a tiny bit closer as he pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead. He looked into her eyes, getting lost like he did the first time he saw her. It was then that Harry knew just what he wanted from her.

“Just let me adore you.”

[stevesnailbat]

hi! could you write steve x fem! reader based on “after hours” by the weeknd (maybe modern day version or maybe we all can pretend the weeknd was an artist in the 80s lol) please and thank you!

warning: this is literally just angst, that’s it

word count: 1.6K

In all honesty, Steve had never meant to fall in love in the time that he was in college. He was there to get an education and, well, party his ass off in order to forget about everything else. What he never expected was that he’d become infatuated with the girl that he was paired up with during his first day of a gen-ed speech class. They had to meet up outside of class and learn more about each other, enough to give a small speech about the other.

That was all Steve set out to do when they met at a dining hall on campus, but things took a turn when he learned more about her. They stayed there for hours, talking about god only knows what. There was just something about her that had him in a trance, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

She felt the same way, luckily. The stupid speech he gave in class with the exorbitant amount of facts he had about her had her wrapped around his little finger in an instant.

They became inseparable after that day, they rarely were seen apart unless they were going to class. She was so in love with him and he thought he was too. But, there was always something holding him back from giving her his whole heart. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew that something wasn’t right.

September, October, and November passed in a flash and Steve was finally coming to terms with the fact that something was definitely not right. She didn’t see it, though. She was blind to whatever the hell he thought was wrong with himself; she loved him and he knew it. He could handle her love for him, but he couldn’t handle his love for her.

The relationship grew rockier once Christmas neared. One day they’d be on the verge of breaking up over picking fights over the stupidest things, and they’d be back to madly in love the next day. She desperately tried to save whatever they had left together, but he wasn’t trying like she was.

It took all of Christmas break for her to come to terms with the fact that he’d probably break up with her when they came back. But, she still called him every day just to make herself feel better, just to make herself feel like she was saving their relationship.

When it finally happened, she told herself she wouldn’t cry in front of him, that she wouldn’t let him see how much he hurt her. It didn’t work out that way, though. He was stone cold as he gave some half-assed reason for breaking up with her. She couldn’t help but cry as he spoke, each word breaking her heart a little more.

Something about the way she looked as he spoke made him break, made him want to come crawling back to her as soon as he left her dorm room. But, he knew he couldn’t do that to her. He knew that she’d be too hurt to listen to whatever else he had to say to her. So, he let her go and tried to get back to the mindset he had during the first week of classes, before he met her. He left his heart with her that night, though.

Steve partied too much and slept too little after that day, just to get her off his mind. He surrounded himself with girls that he thought could distract him, but it never worked. He spent too much money on alcohol and anything else he could think of to compensate for whatever hole was in his heart. Every time he’d fall asleep, or pass out, after drinking, he’d dream of her again. He dreamed about telling her how he felt again, about making up with her. He never wanted to wake up in the morning, just so he could stay with her in his dreams for a while longer; he knew that he wouldn’t be waking up next to her when he opened his eyes. In reality, this was the time that he needed her the most and he had pushed her away, it was all his fault.

The knock on Y/N’s dorm door at midnight on a Tuesday startled her, to say the least. Through the peephole, she saw the last person she had expected to see on the other side, Steve Harrington. He looked distraught, like he had woken up from a dead sleep and ran straight to her dorm.

“Y/N, thank god. Are you alone?” Steve asked, a sense of urgency in his voice.

“I am, but that doesn’t mean I’m letting you in.” she said promptly. “What do you need? You look like you just rolled out of bed.”

“Because I did, and I really—really need to talk to you.” he pleaded, running his fingers through his already messy hair. “Can I please come in?”

“You have ten minutes, Harrington.” she said, swinging the door open for him to walk in.

He watched as she sat down on her bed, seeing the closed off posture she was holding towards him. A sigh escaped Steve’s lips as he thought of what he was going to say and she felt her heart racing, not knowing what to expect.

“Well? Are you gonna tell me why you’re here or are you just gonna sit there?” she implored, already seeming annoyed by him.

“I mean, I wish I could just sit here, honestly—“

“Steve.”

“Right, I’ll get on with it. Sorry.” he said with a pained chuckle while shaking his head. “I’m here to say that I’m sorry.”

“For what, exactly?” she replied, watching him carefully as he leaned against her desk while chewing on his bottom lip—a nervous habit of his that she had caught onto long ago.

“For everything, I guess? I’m sorry I was such a shitty boyfriend to you most of the time, I’m sorry I pushed you away, and I’m sorry that I broke your heart.” he said desperately, searching her eyes for any glimmer of sympathy.

“It’s a little too late for sorry, don’t you think?” she snapped, narrowing her eyes at him as he opened his mouth to speak, but cut him off. “You know you’re an ass, right? I was almost over you, and then you decided you needed to come in and do this! It’s not fair?”

“What’s not fair? That I’m still in love with you too?” he replied, his voice reaching a challenging tone. “How is that unfair? I want you back and—and I promise that I’m not the same asshole that I was before.”

“You can’t just walk back into my life and expect me to take you back just because you apologized.” she said smugly, trying to act strong as she bit the inside of her cheek to hold back tears—a nervous habit of hers that he had caught onto long ago. “So what if I’m not over you? That doesn’t mean I want to take you back, I don’t want to be treated that way ever again.”

“And I promise that this time I won’t treat you like that, I won’t break your heart again. I miss waking up next to you and I miss loving you—“

“You miss fucking me, Steve.” she corrected, rolling her eyes at his sweet talk. “You told me you wanted to have a family with me, that you wanted me to have your babies. Was that all because you wanted to get in my pants more often?”

“No—No! I actually do want to have a family with you.” he scrambled. “I’m sorry I made all of those bullshit excuses for why I wanted to break up, but none of that was true. I want you and I—I love you. I can’t ignore the way I feel anymore.”

“Why are you doing this now?” she questioned, a faint crack in her voice as she felt herself about to break down. “Why not two months ago? Why not right after you realized you still loved me?”

“I knew that I didn’t deserve a second chance. And my friends, they were telling me lies. They told me that I could get through it and that you weren’t the one.” he said simply, the pain in his voice stronger than before. “But I just—I dream about you every night and I can’t bare to wake up without you anymore. I know they were wrong and I was wrong to believe them for a second. Please, baby, I need you back. I promise that I’ll be better, I’ll appreciate you and treat you right.”

“Steve, I think you should go—“

“No, Y/N. Please.” he pleaded, reaching for her hand only for her to pull away slowly.

“I think you should go.” she repeated in a shaky tone, feeling like she could break at any moment.

He nodded somberly as he pushed himself up from where he leaned on the desk. They locked eyes for a moment and both of them saw something they hadn’t seen in a while, a glimmer of love hidden beneath a layer of unshed tears. She gave him a small, sad smile before opening the door to her dorm, watching him walk towards her slowly. Before he walked out, he stopped in front of her. He was waiting for some sign that would tell him that she wanted him to stay, but there wasn’t any.

“Right now isn’t our time, Steve.” she whispered, blinking back some tears as she reached up to cup his cheek.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” he sighed, feeling electricity pulse through his veins as she touched him.

“Maybe someday.” she said, her voice sounding more hopeful than before; she knew there was love between them, but it wasn’t meant to happen in the moment.

“My heart belongs to you, always remember that.” Steve said, kissing her forehead gently before walking away for what could be the last time.

[fountainpenguin]

S and T for the ask

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

> Bittersweet endings. I don’t like completely perfect or completely depressing ends… I like little nibbles of both.

> Witty banter. Never get tired of it.

> I’m not normally one for AUs, but I love college AUs for worlds that don’t have a college equivalent. What do they study? I must know.

> Fleshing unliked/overlooked side character out with an interesting backstory and cool hobbies.

> We dislike each other but have to keep up appearances.

> Smooth, probably sexually experienced character is easily flustered.

> Alternatively: smooth character flirts with someone, takes it too far, and instantly backpedals while screaming internally.

> Sharing space on a road trip.

> Soft holiday stories! Especially fantasy holidays, because then I’m falling in love with the worldbuilding and pleased that the characters are happy.

> Blind dates.

> Tired but loving single parent who works very hard

> Two tired parents working very hard, so glad they’re in this together

> Someone falls in love with a single parent, asks their kid(s) permission to marry their parent, and lets kid help them pick out a ring and participate in wedding plans.

> HEALTHY!!! STEP-FAMILIES!!!

> Jerk messed with the wrong person and now they’re in for it… We don’t know when… but oh, they’re in for it.

> Petty villains (“Whoa, whoa, whoa! I call in an evil plan, and you send your B squad??? Frankly I’m a little insulted!” -Snaptrap)

> Petty heroes… Read: Randy Disher, a full-grown adult police lieutenant, getting his feelings hurt when the Captain says he’d save Monk, not him, if both were in the water because Monk can’t swim, and Randy persists by asking if his mind would change if Randy was holding an anchor and the Captain asks why he wouldn’t just let go of the anchor and Randy looks him in the eye and says “Family heirloom” and the Captain just >:|

> Gift giving is shown to be a valid form of affection and not played as a greedy, materialistic love language (Related: Character A buys cute little gifts for B sometimes and it doesn’t turn into a story about wasteful spending or needing to shower your partner in gifts or else they’ll freak out).

> Bed sharing / cuddles (As long as it doesn’t progress to sex… I have to be in the right mindset for that and 9.5 times out of 10 I’d rather have snuggles).

> Quick, casual, absentminded kisses. Convince me this character’s instinct is to express affection even when they’re distracted and you have me eating out of your hand.

> Kisses in awkward places… Up against walls, quickly stolen while the third wheel is out of the room, couple trying to hide even though their friends ship them and no one present will judge them for a kiss… Yes. The more uncomfortable the position or time, the better. Love that spontaneous cute.

> Fake dating and in the end they’re still good friends, no push into a romantic relationship just because they were in this situation together.

> Healthy mutual break-ups

> Asexual characters!!! I’m for any story that acknowledges people like me exist and are happy, whether it’s a story about discovery, the difficulties of being ace, or a story where the ace character is just at peace.

> People are close friends and not dating. Both are comfortable with their relationship and no one tries to make them feel bad.

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

(Below the cut. Keep in mind these are my personal preferences and I’m not attacking anyone who likes tropes I dislike. This isn’t a comprehensive list, just some thoughts about tropes I don’t enjoy reading).

> Redemption through romantic love. So. Much.

> Everybody Lives AUs

> Soulmates

> Forbidden love

> Amnesia

> Coffee Shop AUs (I’m all for “In the future this character gets a job” stories, but I dislike “I’m going to flirt with this person while they’re in a position they can’t leave” stories)

> Psychic powers / Twins can read minds. It’s not an immediate deal-breaker, but my interest will drop sharply.

> Falling in love way too quickly / confusing infatuation with genuine love and the moral of the story is that you should risk your life plans and dive headfirst into relationships with people you don’t know well yet (I didn’t watch The Sun Is Also a Star, but the trailers pushed ALL my wrong buttons).

> Physical touch is the only or most important way to express affection. I’m all for love language miscommunication stories. I don’t like being told those who don’t express physical touch easily are frigid or uncaring.

> Big rescue scenes in romance (Ex: Hero carrying love interest from a burning building… I’d rather see hero helping love interest up a tough patch of the trail they’re hiking, or leaving a party to find their partner a dessert they’re not allergic to, something small and affectionate like that).

> Asexual invalidation/correction stories (Related: Virgin mockery). I don’t mind reading these if the main character is asexual and it’s a story about sexuality exploration or a character facing difficulties because they’re ace (That’s what Origin of the Pixies is, after all), but if the author legitimately believes asexuality needs to be fixed or that ace characters can’t be in fulfilling relationships, that’s what I don’t like.

> Canon: *Characters state they don’t want to be together romantically*  Fanfic: *Makes them romantic*  As a reader, I’m willing to let you take my hand if you show me careful thought processes and honest conversations while the characters work through changes together in early chapters, but if there’s absolutely no explanation (or indication that backstory will be given later) and the story just starts with them together for some reason… I won’t play along.

> When two people in canon are very close but not an official romantic couple and the only ‘fics about them are romantic. I don’t mind some stories being romantic, especially if they’re set in the future of canon, but if I can’t find more than a tiny handful of ‘fics that match their canon relationship, I get frustrated.

> Oh, here’s a trope I despise with the intensity of a thousand suns… Animals that are not dogs behaving like dogs (Ex: Maximus the horse in Tangled). Other animals are interesting too!

> I dislike a lot of angst tropes in general. I like psychological horror, like the slow recognition of your own sins (which is probably why I write villain backstories). A loved one dying in your arms, or trapped inside a burning house, does nothing to me. You could not get farther from affecting me if you tried. My heart will break if someone hesitates in an otherwise cheery story and the other person staggers back, realizing things aren’t as perfect as they thought. I live for moments where the bliss suddenly snaps and in an instant, everything’s changed. But deaths drawn out with gasps and bleeding, or houses going up in flames, don’t really land. Angst has to be fast and hard or I find it tedious.

> Developing a crush on someone before you even see or hear them interact. See also, liking someone you have no business liking when your people raised you to dislike theirs. How do you exist outside your culture? I want reasons.

> Using new pronouns for a character who hasn’t revealed their preferred pronouns to the narrator and/or a character outs someone by using new pronouns without ensuring they’re okay with that. I’m cool with long-established pronouns, but if some characters don’t know yet, they don’t know yet.

> I’m personally not a fan of self-insert stories, especially Self-Insert x Canon. Specifically, I dislike the trope that self-inserts will draw canon character attention and take the focus away from a canon character development story, which is what I prefer to read. Self-inserts who don’t disrupt the status quo are fine by me.

> I can accept OC x Canon if you don’t contradict canon, but the OC has to be well fleshed out with realistic flaws, and if the canon character is completely OOC, I’m backing out (It’s specifically Main Character OC x Canon that I don’t like- I’ll happily dive into “Failed relationships in canon character’s past involving OC exes because canon characters won’t work for this”).

> Timmy wakes up one day and realizes Tootie’s the girl for him. I need a looong slow burn to sell me on that one. I’m happy to see him recognize his own judgmental attitudes and accept her as a friend, but if it moves into romance while they’re still young, I’m out.

> Wanda being pregnant instead of Cosmo… I 100% forgive this for anything written before “Fairly Odd Baby,” but if Wanda’s the pregnant one then I immediately scroll up to check the upload date. If I can’t trust you with that piece of canon, what can I trust you with?

> Wanda confronts Cosmo and argues that he’s being mean to her. That’s a can of worms I’d rather skirt around.

> I’m all for Cosmo and Wanda having a second kid, but NOT while they’re still with Timmy.

> Abusive Juandissimo.

> I also don’t like fluff. I don’t deliberately avoid sweet, plotless stories, but I don’t seek them out. I lose interest in fluff more quickly than anything else.

… I’m realizing now that the reason I don’t like romantic stories is probably because most of them revolve around expressing affection the literal opposite way of how I prefer it (Ex: Way more stories about physical touch and making out until impulsive sex occurs, not enough quick kisses in passing or time spent existing quietly on the same couch enjoying your separate hobbies).

I don’t inherently hate romance, I just have different romantic preferences than the media that usually crosses my path. I’m more about companionate love than fiery passion. It’s hard to convey the comfortable silence I like in words.

Fanfic Ask Meme

[fallingforholland]

Your best friend’s best friend

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Requested: Yes. @tommyvelvet said “congrats on 200!! can you write about haz introducing the reader to tom at a party and he is like 😍 and flirts with her a lot”

Summary: you and Haz have known eacheother forever. When he finally introduces you to his ther best friend tom could ther be instant fireworks?

Warnings: the flirting might be a little cringy, you have been warned

A/N : Y/N/N stands for your nickname incase y'alls are new. Also sorry that this took me so long. I wanted to get it right so I procrastinated like crazy...whoopsie. I hope it was worth the wait guys

*******************************************************************************************

"Plllleeeasee (Y/N/N), it'll be funnnnnnn" Harrison entreated in an almost futile attempt to convince his oldest friend to meet his new friends.

"that was what you said about drunk paint ball, and about my surprise party and abo..."

"ok ok I get it I have made errors in judgment in the past. But in my defense those things were fun in the moment. Also this is entirely different" Haz finished, looking quite triumphant, he knew he was wearing you down.

"Why do you even want me to meet your new 'best friend' anyway? he's probably a butt-head just like you"

"ahhhh I see, you're Jealous" before you could object, Haz was ruffling your hair like he'd done since you were 5 and he had grown slightly taller than you "Don't worry, he won't replace you, we've been friends forever, you're practly my baby sister"

you pushed him away from you with a huff and fixed your hair while pointing out

"I'm 3 months older then you and you know it, you prick"

"so you're coming?!" he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an excited child

"Yes obviously I'm coming. what are their names again?"

"It's just gonna be Tom, Harry, Jacob and Tuwaine"

 Time Skip

 you double checked the address of the pub you were currently standing outside of against the address Haz had texted you this morning before entering, sure that you would be early. you beelined for the bar to order a drink and texted Haz to let him know that you were already here and to see how far away he was and then opened instagram to mindlesly scroll until Haz either responded or showed up. After a few minutes a pair of hands were clasped over your eyes

"Guess who"

"hmmm the biggest Div in the universe?"

"no because that would be you"

"Haz you have 5 seconds to get off before I start kicking"

"ok ok chill" and the world became bright again as Haz moved his hands. "(Y/N) this is Jacob, Tuwaine, Harry and Tom" you waved at each of them and your eyes lingered a moment longer on Tom, whilst you were being subtle, Tom was quite blatantly staring at you with an expression that could only be described as quite infatuated.

"It's so nice to finally meet you (Y/N)" Jacob said,

pulling you into a hug

"Its nice to meet you too Jacob, Haz has told me a lot about you guys" After swapping introductions and hugs with Tuwaine and Harry who were equally as sweet as Jacob was, then you turned to Tom

"So you're the guy who my best friend has replaced me with, It's nice to meet you" you said, reaching your hand out to shake his

"(Y/N) you overestimate me, I could never replace someone as beautiful as you love"

"that was pretty lame"

You replied, rolling your eyes, trying to combat the blush creeping across your cheek. At that moment, Haz flung his arm over your shoulders

"Tom, I already told you she was off limits. keep it in your pants dude"

You Shove Haz off you and groan in exhasperation

"I can look after myself Harrison, I don't need you to protect me, I'm older then you for christs sake. Anyway, awkward introduction over, lets get a table, shall we?"

when you got a table Tom slid into the booth on one side, you casually sat next to him as Jacob sat on the opposite side of the table, Harry looked like he was about to sit next to you but Haz sat down and gave him a look so he sat next to jacob, and tuwaine sat next to him.

"Haz, chill ok. this is supposed to be fun rememeber" you whispered to Haz, noticing how tense he was.

as the night continued, you guys ate and drank copious amounts, laughed and talked. throughout all this you and tom maintained a constant banter, flirting back and forth. suffice it to say tom is quite impressed that you never miss a beat. he casually drapes his arm on your shoulder, you rest your hand on his thigh. he comes out with some stupid pick up line, you've got a witty response. As much as you were trying to play it cool you couldn't deny the way your heart lept to your throat when he laughed or the way your pulse quickened when he looked at you. and you'd be lying if you said he wasn't exceptionally good looking.

After a few hours you started to get tired, yawning and unconsciously leaning on toms shoulder. He noticed this and looked down at you with a smirk on his face

“Getting tired love?”

“Maybe just a little, I was at work today so I might be just a tiny bit exhausted”

“Do you want me to give you a ride home?”

“Haven’t you been drinking”

“No I’ve got an early morning tomorrow, I haven’t had any alcohol at all, so my offer still stands for a ride home”

“I think that’s my job as her big brother” Haz chimed in, you responded with a playful punch to his stomach

“Haz you aren’t my older brother and you’re too drunk to drive me home”

“Awwww (Y/N/N) that hurts me”

You turned to Harry

“Harry can you make sure Haz gets home safe and with at least some of the contents of his stomach still in his stomach?”

“Yeah no problem (Y/N)”

“Awesome thank you” you replied then you turned to Tom “that ride home still up for grabs?”

“Of course it is love”

“Awesome” you and Tom then got up and said goodbye to everybody. On the walk to the door you almost tripped, causing Tom to instantly wrap an arm around your waist

“Thanks for that”

The drive home continued with the same energy that the whole night had, flirting, giggling and banter. Before you knew it you were at your door.

“Don’t suppose you want to come inside?”

“No I won’t. Not tonight. I really really want to, but I like you and more importantly I respect you. So here” he hands you a napkin with his number on it “when you’re sober, if you want to, give me a call. That way if we end up back here I’ll know it’s what you want and not what the alcohol wants, ok?”

“Ok, I’ll do that” you gave him a kiss on the cheek “that’s what you get for being a perfect gentleman.”

[pleasantlyparker]

meant to be- p.p (1)

summary: you go to a party to get close to peter parker, only to meet spider-man. what happens when you two hit it off after he takes you home?

author’s note: hi!! this is my first writing piece, i usually write poetry cause i’m not rly good this, but i’ve had the idea for forever, and i want to make it into a series. hope you enjoy!! also, i would love feedback.

warnings: mentions of panic attacks, grammar, crappy writing :))

word count: 1.7k

  Parties weren’t usually your scene, but when your friend begged you to go to Liz Allen’s party, you only agreed because you knew Peter Parker was going to be there. You had hoped that you would finally get an opportunity to talk to the boy you’d been hopelessly in love with for the past six years. However, all of this was starting to backfire, as your friend abandoned you to hang with some senior, leaving you alone with no sign of Peter. You knew that he had to be wherever Liz was though. He had had a crush on her since freshman year, and it was kind of twisted that you’d liked him way before puberty gave him muscles.

 You waited around by the drinks, hoping that he would turn up, but eventually, the loud noises and the crowded room were too much for you, so you opted to head outside for a breath of fresh air. You grabbed a bottle of water and weaved your way through the crowd. You began to think about how stupid it was to come to a party to try to talk a guy you knew liked someone else.

 As you stepped outside, you were instantly relaxed by the lack of Flash’s loud voice, and the smell of high school boys who didn’t know what deodorant was. All you wanted to do was curl into a ball and disappear; you settled for leaning against one of the lawn chairs in Liz’s backyard. “Hey, are you alright?” a voice spoke from behind you. You looked up only to come face to face with Queen’s notorious crime fighting superhero. You internally groaned.

 “Ye-Yeah” you tried to mask the nervousness in your voice with a chuckle. Only you would run into your favorite superhero in the midst of a panic attack. ”just needed a break from the party, that’s all.” He nodded letting you know that he understood. “Oh yeah, I feel you” He said as he sat down beside you. “You don’t look like much of a party-er, so what brings you here?” He voice sounded familiar, but you chalked it up to all the YouTube videos you had watched.

 “Well,” you sighed, “My friend wanted me to come with her, and I agreed to, but only because I thought I was finally gonna have an opportunity to talk to this guy I like,but he’s into someone else, anyway, so I’m beginning to think it was a waste of time.” You rambled on as you realized that you were probably oversharing, but Spider-Man didn’t seem to mind, though, he seemed to be interested in your rant.

  “What brings you to this party?” You asked wanting to take the attention off of you. “Well, I’m friends with Peter Parker, and he wanted me to come.” He explained.You laughed at your luck. You knew about Peter’s Stark Internship, but you didn’t know that he knew Spider-Man. “Do you know Peter?” he asked. “Yep,” You nodded. “not really well, though, even though we’ve had classes together since forever, and I’ve been crushing on him since he beat Flash in the science fair in fifth grade.” The memory of a small, scrawny Peter blushing profusely as they gave him the first place ribbon made your heart skip a beat. You had to remind yourself that none of this was healthy behavior.

 “Why don’t you just talk to him? I mean you’ve had classes with him since the fifth grade.” he suggested as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Oh come on,” You gave him an incredulous glance as you watched the mask’s eyes grow bigger. “You’re friends with him. You have to know that all he talks about is Liz. He stares at her like a lovesick puppy all the time, and, well, I don’t blame him Liz is a literal angel, and I’m just average. Peter probably doesn’t even know my name.” You began fiddling with the label on your bottle of water. “Come on,” Spider-Man nudged your knee.”You never know, unless you try. I doubt Peter could ever forget a girl as pretty as you.” You sighed. “I do know that he has a thing for Liz, and I’m not going to make a fool of myself by trying to flirt with him.” “I still think you should try to talk to him. Don’t sell yourself short.” Spider-Man encouraged. You and the vigilante fell into  comfortable silence.

  You groaned as you read a message from your friend that you’d come to the party with.“My friend went off with some senior, and it’s late, so I have to walk home alone.” You stood up. “It was nice talking to you, Spider-Man.” You held out your hand for him to shake.

  “Wait a minute,” he stopped you. “You’re not walking home by yourself, are you crazy? New York City is dangerous at night.” He rambled on. You rolled your eyes.“ I can handle myself, Spidey, and besides it’s not like I have any other option.” Spider-Man rose to his feet and dusted off non-existent grass. “I’m literally an avenger.” He deadpanned. “I can walk you home.” He offered. You thought about it for a minute, you didn’t know who was behind this mask and you were a little worried, but like he said, he was a superhero, so that had to count for something . “Ok let’s go.” You grabbed his hand and began leading him around the house to avoid causing a commotion. “Woah, woah, woah. Where are you going?” He stopped you. “Get on my back” he bent down, waiting for you to climb on. You gave him a skeptical look.

 “Why?” You asked. “I’m Spider-Man.” you rolled your eyes at him. “I do the “thwip” thing.” he mimicked his signature move. “Absolutely not. I do not feel like dying tonight.” You objected. You could practically feel the masked hero roll his eyes at you. “Hey,” You placed your hand on your hip defiantly. “In my defense, I just met you like an hour ago.” He sighed. “It’s not like I’m gonna drop you.” You still weren’t buying it.“I have super strength remember, I stopped a bus with my bare hands.” He argued. “You know, in life or death situations, humans can lift up to 10 times their weight, due to high levels of adrenaline.” You stated as a matter-of-factly. “Look just get on my back, and if I drop you I promise I’ll take you to the hospital.” He joked.

   “Pinky promise?”  You held out your pinky for him to take. He laughed as he linked your pinkies together. “Pinky promise. Now hop on, and hold on tight.” You obliged and told him the name of your apartment building. “Cool.” He said. “I live a few blocks away from there.”  You hooked your arms around his neck, and prayed that he didn’t drop you.

 The “ride” to your apartment complex was like riding a roller coaster, and you kind of enjoyed it, although you wouldn’t dare admit it to the hero. “Well this is my stop.” you said as he climbed the fire escape outside of your bedroom. He bent down as he let you off of his back. He lifted his mask halfway off his face, so that he could breathe properly. The soft glow from the streetlights down below illuminated your face, as you heard soft jazz music coming from the apartment above you. A gentle breeze blew through the night carrying the sounds of the city to you. You hugged your sweater closer to your body. The masked hero lingered, not wanting to end the night, leaning against the railing with his arms crossed.

    “We should dance.” The words, induced by some spur of the moment need to make this feel like a fairy-tale, flew out of your mouth before you could stop them. He seemed taken aback by your suggestion. “I mean there’s music already, and what better way to end a night?” You chuckled nervously. He gave you a breathtaking smile that you wished you could photograph for later. He took your hands and wrapped them around his neck. As he placed his hands on your hips, you began to sway to the soft sounds of the saxophone. For the first time tonight, you weren’t regretting going to that stupid party. You leaned into Spider-Man’s chest and smiled. Everything about what was happening just felt so surreal, just a few hours ago you were moping around because you liked a guy that didn’t like you back, and now here you were, dancing with your favorite superhero, on your fire escape, at almost one in the morning.“You know you’re kind of like Cinderella, right.” You teased. He thought about it for a moment. “I guess that makes you Prince Charming.” He whispered in your ear. You let out a delighted laugh as he spun you around.

  “That means you’d have to leave behind a glass slipper for me to be able to have to find you again.” You hummed as you breathed him in, wanting to savor every second of this interaction. You looked up at him only to find him already looking at you.You felt the blood rush to your face as he dipped you. “I guess I will then, huh?” And in an instant, Spider-Man had his hands on your waist and was kissing you. He tasted like the gummy worms from Delmar's and mint gum. To say the least, you were absolutely infatuated with the web-slinging hero. Breathlessly, you two pulled away, and you smiled at him. “I guess I’ll see you around?” You hadn’t planned for it to come out as a question, but all you could focus on at the moment was the fact that you’d just kissed Spider-Man. “Hopefully,” He smiled at you. “Sooner than you think, y/n.”  You waved goodbye as he jumped to the other building and turned around to climb through your window.

 As you climbed into bed, you replayed the events of the night over in your head. Smiling as you remembered swaying with Spider-Man to jazz music, and the last thing he’d said to you. At the time, you’d been so captivated by his boyish scent, and impeccable dance skills that you hadn’t noticed something huge. Something that really did mean you’d be seeing the superhero sooner than you thought. Spider-Man knew your name, and you were pretty sure you hadn’t told him.

[crankybangtan]

Break In

This imagine links with Protect the Light chapter 10 social media AU found here: ♥♥♥ 

Summary:   Y/N is home alone when she hears an intruder, her only hope is Yoongis friend Hoseok who may or may not be the leader of the gang the Red Knuckles.

Genre: Gang! Hoseok

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (Yoongi is mentioned) Trigger Warnings: Mentions of violence.

FYI: i wanted to expand this chapter a bit so ya know what really happened (im bad at writing but enjoy) 1,406 Words Masterlist: ♥♥♥

The panic only really set in when Yoongi text you, telling you he wasn’t at home. But there’s someone in his room, you thought. There is someone in your house and you don’t know who it is. Your heart rate jumped, and you started to breathe heavy, like someone was stood on your chest. You moved across the bed, sliding off the side of the covers and onto the floor. Your bedroom door was slightly open, and you took the opportunity to look through the crack. Your heart was beating through your mouth as you looked towards Yoongis bedroom.  A shadow moved its way around his room, pulling his belongings from each cupboard before smashing them to the ground with an almighty crash. You gasped, quickly moving your hand to your mouth to stop yourself from shrieking and scuttling across the floor so your back was up against a wall.  “Don’t call the police.” Yoongis text rang through your head over and over. Why, why shouldn’t you, what had Yoongi got himself into that you couldn’t call the police on an intruder in your own house and why were you listening to him. Why did you care. Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You scrambled to silence it before the intruder could hear you were home. You hoped he didn’t hear your slight squeal.  “Hoseoks on his way.” The text read. Great. Yoongi was sending his friend, who you knew nothing about, to protect you from a burglar. How pathetic. You wished you could be tough like them, like the girls you see them with. Leather jackets and no makeup. Not caring what the next person thinks about you, wanting an adventure whatever the risk. But that wasn’t you. You were someone who hid underneath the duvet covers and waited for someone to come save you. Who crumbled with fear at the sound of an intruder. You heard the front door slightly open as you had your ear to the wall, you let out a sigh of relief. The sound of heavy boots and the smell of smoke seeped into your bedroom. There was no time for you to be angry about Hoseok smoking inside your house. Hoseok creeped towards Yoongis room, you imagined him gripping a gun, no a knife. In between his veiny fingers that were dug deep into his blackest jeans. His face wearing a slight scowl of annoyance that you had got yourself into this mess and that he had to come save you. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?” Hoseoks voice echoed through the apartment and down your spine. It caught itself in your breath. The man in the room replied, but his voice was deep, muffled and incoherent. After a small heated conversation, you heard a CRASH and it pushed you to the back of your bed. You held onto your blanket with a tight clasp and stared straight at your door. Hoping Hoseok would come and make everything ok. That any minute now Jin or Jungkook would walk in telling you it was just them and none of this was really happening. The sound of fighting carried on for, well it felt like hours. Hoseoks fists being thrown in every direction. You closed your eyes tighter thinking that would make the sound go away. The sound of skin bruising and blood gushing. You then heard a manly shriek, your whole body tensed. It ended with a body being thrown to the floor “Don’t come back here” another crash and a yelp. The sound of a boy getting punched to the gut for the last time and regretting everything. “Did you hear ME?” Hoseok shouted with a deep intake of air. You tried to buck up the courage to see what was happening through the crack in the door but all you saw was Hoseoks hold on a man in all black, throwing him out the door with one last kick to the back.  You stood in shock for a while. Just staring at your wall. Thinking about going out to see if he was okay but being too scared to ask.  “You can come out now, Princess” Hoseok called, you presumed to you. You stepped out of your room. Obviously shaken. “Sorry you had to hear that” He said without emotion, stood at the sink, the water running cold as he splattered it on his face. He turned to look at you and it was the first time you had seen him properly. He was covered in blood. You couldn’t tell if it was his or the burglars.  “W-what happened?” you stuttered, walking towards him cautiously. The sound of your bare feet was the only noise between you and Hoseok. It was an awkward couple of seconds as he looked you up and down. Working out whether you were worth his time. He had a slight smile in his eyes when you looked back up to yours. I guess you answered his question. “He was just looking for something, I sorted it” He grimaced as he put a wet cloth to his bloody face. A bruise around his eyes already forming.  “Let me help you” you jumped towards him without a thought. Why this intrigued you, you had no idea. Why this mysterious boy in your living room, covered in blood interested you so much. He chuckled. “I’m fine” he let out. “You don’t look it.” You took the cloth from his hand. Becoming suddenly confident. You were trying to impress him in some strange way. He let you take it from him, he was amused. You dabbed the cuts and rinsed the cloth. Over and over. Probably more than needed, but you wanted to stay there and clean him up till he was perfect.  “I’ve got some cream in my room let me-“ “of course you have” He laughed, you knew he was mocking you but your infatuation with this boy kept you from being offended. You pulled your eyebrows together as if to say you didn’t understand.  “You’re just the type to have a medical box” He said. Turning away from you to pick up his jacket that must have been flung off in the fight. “by the looks of it, you should invest in one” You said with a slight smug look. He laughed, he liked it and he took a liking to you. That made you feel full. Like in a strange way you achieved something. This dark mysterious boy you had no reason to be involved with was looking deep into your eyes and searching for something. and you were doing the same thing. Both a little lost and bored and needing something new.

Hoseok made his way towards the door without a sound, as if he was just going to leave into the night and never see you again. 

“Its dark” You blurted out, “You should stay” You were speaking without thinking. You wanted him to stay but didn’t know how. Hoseok sniggered, you couldn’t see his smile but felt it. “I think I’ll be just fine baby, I can look after myself.”  It felt like slow motion as he walked toward the door. The weight of his footsteps, the sound of his jacket moving on his clothes, his touch on the door handle. It was like you only had a few seconds to convince him not to leave you.    “Who are you?” It was a desperate attempt to create conversation. His grip loosened on the door and he turned to face you. A pretty girl in her pyjamas asking a beaten and bruised gang member “who they were” was nothing Hoseok had come across. He enjoyed this. He enjoyed you clinging to his every word like it was the last piece of cake a party. Like he was your only way out of your mundane life.   “I’m-“  “I know you’re a Red Knuckle” You interrupted, as soon as you said it you cursed at yourself, you promised you wouldn’t get involved. You told Jin that you would stay out of their business. But here you were. Wanting to know the ins and outs of everything. “You wouldn’t want to know who I am” His pink lips up turned in the corner. “Or what I do” You took a deep breath before walking towards him. He knew you feared him, it was obvious, but you were pretending like this wasn't all an act. You were that bad-ass girl like the ones he hangs around the streets with.   “But what if I do” you said in a whisper. He stepped toward you. The tension in the air was indescribable. What were you doing. Flirting with a Red Knuckle like it was nothing new. Like you weren’t just hiding under your covers wanting everything to stop. Hoseok touched your face slightly, you shivered at the cold touch of the back of his fingers. “You’re too pretty to know.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, it was like he was playing with a doll. So delicate and pure, no one like you had even given him the time of day before now. He ran his long, blood stained fingers across your cheek. He smirked as you stared at him. Infatuated. “I’ll see you around princess” You didn’t even see him leave, he was gone in an instant. And you were left alone again. You longed for him to come back and protect you, to make you feel safe. You longed for Hoseoks touch.

[thorne93]

Whirlwind Romance (Part 26)

Prompt: You’re getting married to Chris Evans… Everything in your life is perfect… Except when you break the news to your two best friends: Tom Hiddleston and Sebastian Stan

Word Count: 1717

Warnings: language, anger, angst, adult themes,

Notes: This is for @carryonmyswansong-archive challenge (Double Season, Multifaceted, 500 Follower Celebration, Writing Challenge!): Prompt – You’re marrying the wrong person! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes@like-a-bag-of-potatoes bcuz shes amazing and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo@carryonmyswansong-archive for letting me brainstorm with them. Got this idea from @formyfandoms… Fic image made by the super bomb @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo…. @carryonmyswansong

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day you went in for an appointment with your OBGYN, ready to confirm your results and start working on how to make this baby as healthy and happy as it could be. The doctor listened to your concerns, told her about your late period, and that was it. Right now she didn’t need to know Tom wasn’t the father.

You sat in the doctor’s examination room, Tom holding your hand tightly as they ran the results of your urine sample.

“Thank you, for standing by me. I know most men would probably bolt,” you said with shame.

“Darling, you didn’t cheat on me. You were with a man who you loved. You had relations with. And things like this can happen. The best thing to do is just deal with this, make a good life for this child, and ensure the father is included. That’s all we can do.”

“You are seriously from another planet, Tom Hiddleston. I swear,” you said, looking up into that beautiful angel face of his. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“You recite Shakespeare pretty well,” he said with a light in his eyes and a laugh behind his words as he nudged you with his shoulder. He was trying to lighten the mood. Sure, he had to stick around and help raise a child that wasn’t his, but you were the one going through the emotional turmoil, along with the physical. His stake in this was nowhere near yours.

The door opened, breaking the slight spell over you two when your doctor popped in.

“Well, you aren’t pregnant,” she announced and you felt Tom physically relax beside you but you were still rigid.

“I’m not? Are you sure?” you asked.

She looked down at the papers in her hand. “I’m positive. Your urine came back normal. Now, we can run a blood test if you’d like but I’m sure you aren’t.”

“But… but I took an in home test and my period is over a week late,” you remarked, confused.

“The in home test could’ve been expired, or it might not have been in the urine long enough,” she informed. “There are a few of reasons to get false positives. As far as the period, have you been stressed lately?”

“Well… I… Yes. I was stabbed in the stomach three weeks ago in an attack, and I had some personal life changes recently,” you stated. Tom squeezed your hand lightly at your words. “I’ve been working a lot lately… but could that really do that? I mean, could be over a week late?”

“A stabbing you say? Yeah, your body could definitely respond to that. Between that and everything else you’ve told me about, I’m not surprised your exhibiting symptoms. But no, according to this, Ms. Y/L/N, you are not pregnant. Now, if you’re wanting to try I can talk to you and your partner here about getting on some fertility--”

“No! No, no. We’re good. I just… wanted to be sure I didn’t have to prepare for anything.”

Your doctor nodded and smiled as she leaned against the table. “Right. No, you are all good to go. Give your menstrual cycle three more days to begin. If you’re still having trouble, we may want to ensure the stabbing didn’t cause damage to your reproductive organs. Other than that, I think you’re all good.” She flashed you a sincere smile.

You and Tom stood, thanking her before walking out of the office. Neither of you said a word until you got to your car. You got in, closed the door, and breathed a huge sigh of relief. You and Tom looked at each other and smiled widely.

“Forgive me for saying so, but I’m extremely relieved,” he said.

You shook your head. “No, yeah. I am too. I want my first child to be with you, my future husband. Having one with Chris would’ve been… too much.”

“This way we can focus on us and everything else can be in the past.” He reached over and threaded his fingers in your hair, making you tingle all over before his mouth found yours. In an instant, the world slipped away and you were blissfully happy once again.

Now all you needed to do was tell Chris…

---------------------

That night, Tom went out to run errands, giving you a couple of hours to talk to Chris alone on the phone.

Taking a deep breath, you dialed him, wanting this to be over with once and for all. After the third ring, he picked up.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted, his voice holding some delight to it.

“Hey, Chris. I--”

“So I’ve been thinking. I really think shared custody would be best. I want this child to know both of its parents and--”

“Wait, Chris, I’m not pregnant,” you interrupted before he got through this whole ordeal he probably had planned in his mind.

“You--You’re not?” he asked, his voice deflated.

“No. I went to the doctor and they confirmed it.”

“So then… What was--”

“False positive pregnancy test and a late period, I just thought….” You trailed off, shaking your head as you gripped the phone harder. “I was wrong though. Doctor verified it.”

“Wow… I know I should probably feel relieved but… I don’t know. I feel like it might’ve been a nice chance for a family…”

“Yeah, but what kind of family?” you murmured.

“Does it matter what kind?” he countered.

You laughed without humor. “Yeah I’d think so. A child born into this situation would have a tough time. We barely made it work for us, let alone trying to figure out how to get a child to see you on a regular basis…”

“Still… could’ve been nice.”

You had no idea how to respond. You didn’t want to be heartless and tell Chris that you were utterly ecstatic not to be pregnant. You also didn’t want to give him any sort of false hope. You wanted to wash your hands of it and move on.

“Yeah… well, I just thought you should know,” you finally said, shrugging.

“Yeah… No, thanks for telling me. I was sort of losing my mind thinking over here and stuff,” he said with a laugh.

“Sorry to hear that,” you offered.

“Y/N… I want to ask you something,” Chris said, his voice full of serious emotion.

“Sure, Chris, go ahead.”

“Do you really love Tom?”

Just as you were about to answer, your mouth already open, Chris continued.

“I know you love him. That’s not the question. Are you sure it’s over between us? I mean, really and truly over? There’s no future for us? You’re sure you want Tom as your future husband?”

You nodded. You could tell Chris wasn’t trying to start a fight, or beg for you back. He seemed to be looking for closure. And that, you could give him.

“Well, it’s only been a few weeks… But I really and truly love him.” After a moment, you decided to add, “Chris, I’m sorry for what I said the last time we were together. About loving him for thirteen years. I don’t want it to seem like I was in love with someone and chose you as a consolation prize. That wasn’t it at all.”

“Oh?”

“I won’t lie. I had a crush on Tom right before you asked me out. That was why I didn’t exactly jump at the chance to date you. I was sort of hoping something would happen between Tom and I. But then I said yes to you, and you made me so happy. You were this amazing guy that treated me well, you were sweet to me, you actually rivaled me in loving Disney…”

At this, he laughed.

“You made me incredibly happy, and I eventually thought that my feelings for Tom just faded away. I mistook it for loneliness or misreading how close we were…. But… when he told me he loved me, I knew that the last thirteen years and how I’ve felt towards him wasn’t just infatuation. It was real. What we had was real too. I did love you.”

“Just not enough, huh?” he asked in a solemn voice. But behind it, there was this layer of understanding. He finally seemed to be getting it.

“I think… we loved each other in different ways, is all. Maybe I’m your true love. Maybe I’m not. You’re a great love of mine… but Tom is…”

“The love of your life,” he finished.

After a second, you finally said, “Yeah. Chris I don’t want you to ever think I didn’t love you…”

“I don’t Y/N. I know you did.”

“Good.”

“I just want to make sure you’re really happy and making the right choice, that’s all. I won’t stand in your way or bother you.”

“I am happy. I swear...”

He let out a breath of air. “Well I don’t like it… in fact, I hate it. But I respect your feelings and your life, so I wish you nothing but the best.”

“Thank you, Chris. You too. I’m sorry things ended up this way. If I could wave a magic wand and give you your happiness, I would.”

“I know, sweetheart. That’s why I love ya.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he talked. “Well… I guess I’ll let you go then. Let you start your life with him. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“If you ever need anything, I’m still here for you,” you promised, feeling a lump form in your throat.

“You too. Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Bye, Chris.”

And just like that, the call ended. You felt slightly better, giving Chris and yourself some piece of mind. He had closure, hopefully. Or at least a way to start healing. Now, it was time for you to move on as well.

Before long, Tom was home. When he saw your face, he could tell you weren’t doing so well, so he wrapped you in a loving embrace, kissing your head.

“Are you alright, darling?”

“I will be. We’re together, and that’s what’s important. No baby, no Chris. Just you, and me, for the rest of the week.”

“I like the sound of that. Sounds like just what we need.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forever Tags:

@essie1876​

@magpiegirl80​

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please​

@superwholocked527

@missinstantgratification​

@thejemersoninferno

@rda1989​

@munlis​

@thefridgeismybestie​

@bubblyanarocks3​

@igiveupicantthinkofausername​

@kaliforniacoastalteens​

@feelmyroarrrr​

@kaeling​

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​

@damalseer​

@heyitscam99​

@yknott81​

@sorryimacrapwriter​

@glitterquadricorn​

@xxqueenofisolationxx​

@little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama

@bittersweetunicorm​

@alyssaj23​

@sea040561​

@princess76179​

@thisismysecrethappyplace​

@sarahp879​

@malfoysqueen14

Tom Hiddleston:

@camigt1999​

@lenawiinchester​

@esoltis280

Sebastian Stan:

@nedthegay​

@lostinspace33​

@alwayshave-faith​

@elleatrixlestrange​

@buenostardissherlock​

@lenawiinchester​

@the-red-world-of-jess-chibi​

@memory-of-a-goldfish​

@shamptain-shmerica

@crazybutconfidentaf​

@esoltis280​

@alwayshave-faith​

Chris Evans:

@nedthegay​

@camigt1999​

@lostinspace33​

@alwayshave-faith​

@elleatrixlestrange​

@lenawiinchester​

@mellsstark​

@esoltis280​

@patzammit​

WR Tag:

@gaylemonshark​ @tacohead13​

@seabasstiantrash​

@nerdy-bookworm-1998​

@berruneko09​

[wistfulcynic]

Another Brick In The Wall, Chapter 3

Notes: This fic started as almost a protest against the tired cliches I’d read in several high school AUs (why was I reading high school AUs? I still don’t know. Some questions have no answers) but it’s somehow morphed itself into a thing I actually quite like. I like the voices of teenaged Emma and Killian, and I like the story that I have to tell about them. I think it’s a good one, one that is true to the characters while also making them real teenagers, with all the fierce and complex emotions of adolescence. What I’m saying is I’ve decided to take this fic seriously and I hope that more people who read my work regularly and may think I’ve lost the plot writing this will give it a chance. I promise there will be no geeks-vs-jocks, cookie-cutter high school stereotypes. It’ll be good. Really. Just try it, and then feel free to shout at me if you hate everything about it. 

New, serious-this-time-summary: Emma Swan, sheriff’s daughter, mayor’s niece, quarterback’s girlfriend, is the undisputed princess of Storybrooke High. She is smart and confident and used to getting what she wants. What she wants is Killian Jones, the new boy in school. But Killian is not easily manipulated, and reluctant to allow the dark secrets in his past to touch the girl he is rapidly falling in love with. 

Rating: T for now, might go M later on.

Tagging, just in case you might be interested: @teamhook, @resident-of-storybrooke, @wellhellotragic, @let-it-raines, @deathbycaptainswan, @rouhn, @kmomof4, @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree

Read it on AO3: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter 3: 

From that day on Emma and Killian talked before and after each of their classes, briefly at first and then for longer and longer intervals until they found themselves having to hurry to get to their next classes on time. After a few days they formally acknowledged what they’d both known for quite a while—that their fourth period classes were in the same direction— so they walked in it together, standing outside Killian’s French class for as long as they could before Emma had to dart down the hall to get into her Sociology classroom before the bell. She began to swing by the corner table where he always sat at lunch to say hello, which soon turned into them walking from lunch to their history class together. 

At first, their conversations were awkward and stilted, both of them nervous and worried about saying the wrong thing, but soon, as they discovered both common interests and points of disagreement that they could argue over, they relaxed and gradually let more and more of their true selves show through. 

With every conversation Emma grew more and more infatuated. She knew she was being pathetically obvious, that her friends were already starting to whisper behind her back and that soon even Neal would notice, but for once in her life Emma genuinely did not care what anyone else thought. Killian was like no one she had ever met before, and she treasured every single scrap of time she managed to spend in his company. 

The way his eyes lit up when he spoke passionately about something he loved, those rare, precious times when he forgot to brood and let himself laugh with pure joy. The approving look in his eyes when she challenged him. These were the things that Emma lived for. 

That Sunday Emma drove herself to fencing club and after an exhilarating hour of practicing his spin attack (which was much harder than he made it look, she discovered to her dismay) she invited him to Granny’s for hot chocolate. 

He hesitated, looking torn and uncertain. “I don’t know, Swan, I should probably—” 

“What?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, go home I guess.” 

“Come on, Killian, it’s just hot chocolate. An hour, then I’ll give you a ride home.” 

Still he looked unsure. 

“What, you don’t want to be seen with me outside of school?” She tried to make the question teasing, but couldn’t quite hide the genuine insecurity that lay beneath it. 

He softened. “Not at all, Swan.” 

“You don’t think I want to be seen with you, then?” 

He gave her a cheeky smirk, his humour breaking briefly through the sullenness. “Don’t be absurd, why wouldn’t you want to be seen with me? Look at me.” He gestured flamboyantly at his face. 

She could feel herself blushing, but didn’t look away. “Well, exactly,” she said, her tone turning the simple words into a challenge.  

He sighed, relenting. “All right, all right,” he said, a faint smile still on his face. “Just let me call my brother so he doesn’t worry.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They sat down in a quiet corner booth and for the first time in days the silence between them was awkward. Emma let it drag out for barely a minute before taking a small cream envelope from her backpack and placing it on the table in front of him with a decisive slap. 

“What’s this?” he asked.

“It’s an invitation to my birthday party. Next Saturday.” 

He shook his head. “Swan, no…” 

She forced back a wave of dismay. “Why not? It’s my eighteenth birthday, Killian!”

“Something you’d surely prefer to celebrate with your friends…” 

“You’re my friend.” She hesitated. “Aren’t you?”

He was silent long enough that she began to panic. “Aye, I suppose I am,” he finally said in a low voice.

She sighed in relief. “Well, then. Celebrate my birthday with me.” 

He picked up the envelope, opening it with surprising care and pulling out the card. “You’re having it here?” he asked, surprised. 

“Yeah,” said Emma, examining her fingernails. “Granny’s is, um, more centrally located than my house. People won’t have to drive.” 

Which was the excuse she had given her parents, not wanting to confess the real reason: she knew that Killian would be far more likely to come if the party was at a neutral venue, and the only thing Emma truly wanted for her birthday this year was for Killian to come to her party. She didn’t think she could bear the disappointment if he refused. 

Killian’s fingers unconsciously worried the edge of the invitation, his thumbnail scraping the gilt off of the thick ivory card stock as he thought hard. He really didn’t want to spend his Saturday evening watching Emma —probably wearing some little dress that left her long legs bare, like the cheerleading uniform he had to avert his eyes from every Friday— laughing with her friends and being groped possessively by her idiot boyfriend while he was either ignored or treated like an English-accented party favour. He opened his mouth to refuse, but as he did he looked up and the pleading expression in her eyes shook him hard. He shut his mouth again, cursing internally. This whole thing was getting seriously out of control. He already liked her far more than he should, if he started giving in to her pleas now who knew where that would end. But as little as he wanted to attend her birthday party, he wanted to hurt her feelings even less. 

“All right, Swan,” he heard himself saying. “I’ll be there. For a little while,” he added hastily as her face lit up with a brilliant smile. 

Just then Ruby appeared with their drinks. 

Emma, bursting with excitement, grinned up at he friend. “Hey Rubes, guess what?” she said happily, “Killian’s coming to my party!”

Ruby pursed her lips, and her brow wrinkled with a small frown. Emma was clearly completely gone for this Killian. It was written all over her face every time she talked to him, and frankly it had Ruby worried. She supposed, she thought grudgingly, that she could understand his appeal. His face was pretty good and his eyes were gorgeous, and there was something kind of hot about his brooding smartass vibe, though she herself preferred older boys. Or girls, but for the moment that was still her secret. What she objected to about Killian wasn’t his looks or his personality, it was the way he seemed to hold himself back, resisting Emma’s attempts to befriend him. Ruby and Emma had been best friends practically since they were born, and she knew better than anyone that underneath Emma’s golden girl confidence beat a deeply sensitive heart, one that could easily be crushed in the wrong hands. If Killian crushed it, whether it be through malice or simple indifference, Ruby would rip him apart, without hesitation. 

Still, she reflected, pretty much anything would be better than Neal Cassidy, douchebag extraordinaire, who Ruby felt certain was cheating on Emma with the head cheerleader from Misthaven High. 

She glanced at Killian as she set down his mug, right in time to see his tense expression soften as Emma smiled at him, revealing for just a moment the same helpless fascination that Emma always had in her eyes when she looked at him. In that instant, Ruby made her decision and chose her side. 

“Great!” she said brightly, stifling a laugh at the surprised look Killian shot her. “You can keep my boyfriend Victor entertained. We’ve been to see you play in Misthaven a couple of times, and boy he has got thoughts about that. Victor loves to talk about music and frankly it bores me to tears.”

“Er, okay,” said Killian, as Emma beamed. Ruby nodded, flashed him a bright smile, and headed back to the counter. 

“Victor’s a freshman at the university in Portland,” said Emma, once she was out of earshot. “He graduated from Storybrooke last year. Honestly, I’m surprised he and Ruby are still together. I never thought they’d be able to handle long-distance, but so far so good I guess.” She paused to take a sip of chocolate. “I think they might have an open relationship.” 

Killian had just taken a sip of his own drink, and promptly choked on it. Emma looked alarmed. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, love. Just a bit taken aback.” 

“What, city boy, you think all us hicks from the sticks are prudes?” she teased. “That we all save ourselves for marriage and then only do it once a month with the lights off?” She batted her eyelashes at him and Killian suddenly felt as if a lead weight were pressing down on his chest. 

That probably means she’s letting Cassidy… but he couldn’t finish the thought. The mere idea of that bullying moron touching her intimately made him sick, and filled him with the urge to punch something. 

“Not at all,” he said gruffly. “I figure people are pretty much just people wherever they’re from. You just caught me off guard, stating it so plainly.”  

Emma frowned. What she’d come to think of as Killian’s dark cloud, something that seemed to drop down on him periodically for no reason she could discern, had returned. She hated that cloud. It quenched the light in his eyes and replaced it with the look of an abused puppy, hopeless and desperately sad. 

She reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. “Hey,” she said. “Are you all right?”

He stared at their joined hands for a long moment then swallowed hard. “I’m fine,” he replied, flashing her a brilliant smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Killian—” 

“I said, I’m fine!” He pulled his hand away. “Why don’t you tell me what you’ve got planned for this birthday party?”

Emma wanted to press him, to poke and prod at the barrier he’d constructed around himself until she found a weak spot, to send it crashing down and make him finally talk to her about whatever he was keeping so tightly bottled up inside, but one look at his shuttered expression told her there was no point in trying. If she did, he might pull away again.  

She nodded, giving him a bright, false smile of her own. “Well,” she said, “To start…” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killian was headed for Dr Hopper’s office after school the following Monday, when he realised that he was being tailed by Neal and two of his football buddies. They weren’t even being stealthy about it, he thought in disgust. There were herds of elephants stampeding across African plains that made less noise. 

Pretending he didn’t hear them, he walked casually past the psychiatrist’s door then quick as a flash ducked around a corner, ensuring that he had the brick wall of the buildings at his back. When the three boys caught up to him he was waiting for them, his stance relaxed but all his senses alert. He didn’t want to fight them but if they forced his hand they were in for an unpleasant surprise. Killian had learnt to fight from his father, a man who had never pulled a punch in his life. 

Neal stepped forward, all bluster and bravado. “I saw you at Granny’s yesterday. With Emma.” 

“What of it?”

“I thought you said you weren’t interested in her.” 

Killian shrugged. “I changed my mind.” 

“Yeah? Well you better change it back,” snarled Neal, stepping closer.  

Killian sighed. He was really not in the mood for this. “Look, asshole,” he said, deliberately using the American pronunciation, “Emma is not your possession. If she wants to hang out with me, that’s her choice. I didn’t seek her out but I like her, and I’ll be damned if I let you bully me into ending my friendship with her.” 

Neal snarled and shoved Killian’s chest, but Killian had been expecting that and had braced himself against it. When he didn’t fall or even stumble backwards, Neal looked incredulous. Fury lit in his eyes and he reared back to give a harder shove. This time Killian caught the shorter boy’s arms and used his own momentum to swing him into the brick wall behind them, the force of the impact making his head ring and knocking the air out of him. As he lay against the wall blinking dazed eyes and gasping for breath, Killian turned to the other two boys, holding his arms out wide. “Care to have a go yourselves, mates?” he challenged, careful not to sound too mocking. He wanted to deter them, not provoke them. The last thing he needed was to get in trouble for fighting. Liam would be bloody furious. 

The other boys looked back and forth between Neal collapsed against the wall and Killian’s implacable face. He raised an eyebrow at them, and that decided it. 

“Come on, Cassidy, let’s go,” said one. “We can’t fuck him up in the middle of Main Street anyway.” 

Neal peeled himself off the wall, trying to turn his wince of pain into a glare. “Just be watching your back, dickhead,” he sneered before following his friends. 

Killian waited until they were nearly out of sight before turning back around the corner and  heading into Dr Hopper’s office. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The party was well underway by the time Killian arrived. He stood outside Granny’s for a moment, steeling himself, then took a deep breath and opened the door. Immediately his senses were assaulted by a cacophany of voices and laughter and music from the jukebox, and he fought back the urge to flee. He was doing this for Emma, he reminded himself. For whatever insane reason she wanted him there, and he wouldn’t let her down. 

He surveyed the room in search of any familiar faces, then nearly jumped out of his skin when a slender arm wrapped around his neck from behind. 

“Hey,” said Ruby in his ear. “About time you showed up. She’s been waiting.” 

Killian’s heart thumped painfully at the idea of Emma waiting anxiously for him at her own birthday party. Stop it, he told himself firmly. She has a boyfriend, and anyway she deserves far better than you. “Where is she?” he asked, trying not to croak.

Ruby grinned. “Come with me,” she said. “Oh, and by the way this is Victor.” She waved her hand at the boy standing next to her, who gave Killian a nod and a sardonic smirk. “He’s a big fan of your music.” 

“Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t use the word ‘big’ or even ‘fan,’” began Victor. “But—” 

“Save it,” said Ruby, as the crowd parted to reveal Emma sitting at a small table in the middle of the diner, surrounded by what looked like half the cheerleading squad. She was laughing but something in her body language seemed tense and worried. Then she caught sight of Killian and her whole being seemed to light up. 

Bloody hell, he thought, fighting back the renewed urge to run, I am so fucked. 

She leapt to her feet and hurried over. “Hey,” she said. “You came.” 

“Of course I did, Swan, I said I would.” 

“I know, but…” she shook her head. “Never mind, you’re here now. Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure.” 

She led him to the counter. “Anything on Granny’s menu is available,” she said. 

“Um, just a soda is fine.” 

“Root beer?” she teased, knowing his opinion on that subject. 

He made a comically exaggerated grimace. “Swan, if I wanted to be given disgusting medicine I’d go to the doctor. I’ll have a Coke.” 

“Try the vanilla kind, Granny mixes it herself and it’s really good.” 

He smiled at her. “All right.” 

She smiled back and leaned across the counter to order the drink. When she turned back her eyebrows snapped together into a scowl. 

“What is it?” asked Killian, alarmed. 

“Nothing,” she said, anger in her voice. “I— I’ll be right back.” 

She marched across the room to the jukebox, behind which Neal was standing with Felix and Rufio, tipping something from a small bottle into their drinks. 

“Neal,” she hissed. 

“Heeeeey, Ems!” he slurred, grabbing her arm. “Y’wanna real drink?”

“Did you bring alcohol to my birthday party?” she snapped. 

“‘Course. Not a real party with nothing to drink.” 

Emma resisted the urge to slap him. “You can’t have that here! Get rid of it right now, and you three sober up!” She was trying hard to keep calm and not draw any attention to them, but this was her eighteenth birthday, darn it, and Neal was threatening to ruin it. 

“Don’t be such a priss, Emma,” he sneered. 

“My father is the sheriff,” she hissed “Do you have any idea what he would do if he found out you had that?”

“I’m not scared of your father,” blustered Neal. 

“Well, you should be! He won’t hesitate to bust you, quarterback or no. Please, Neal,” she begged, “It’s my birthday. Please don’t do this tonight!” 

“Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll dump it.” 

She sighed in relief, missing the smirk and eye roll he exchanged with Felix, and kissed his cheek. “Thanks.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later, Emma was leaning against Ruby’s shoulder, listening to Killian and Victor arguing about a band that neither of the girls had ever heard of when the door opened and David stepped in, followed by two of his deputies. He headed straight for the foursome, his expression grim. 

“Dad?” said Emma, a sudden anxiety gripping her. Why was he here, and wearing his badge? “Wh— what’s going on?”

David ignored her. “Killian,” he said, in his Sheriff voice. “Empty your pockets.” 

Emma’s eyes flew to Killian, blown wide with alarm, but he looked as unruffled as always and gave her a small, reassuring smile. 

“Sure,” he said. He pulled a wallet, some keys, and his phone from his jacket pocket, then turned out the pockets of his jeans to reveal nothing but a crumpled handkerchief. 

David looked surprised, but recovered quickly and gave Killian a relieved smile. “Thank you,” he said. 

“Dad, what’s this about?” asked Emma. 

“We got an anonymous call from someone saying that there was alcohol at your party,” her father replied. “That Killian had brought it.” 

Emma nearly choked on a sudden surge of fury. Neal.

Ruby snorted. “I bet I know who called that in,” she said. “You’d have more luck checking Neal Cassidy’s pockets, Sheriff Swan. Or one of his minions.” 

David turned to where Neal was sitting at the counter a few feet away. “Well?” he said. “Turn out your pockets, please, Mr Cassidy.” 

Neal smirked. “Sure,” he said, echoing Killian’s word, and pulled a handful of crumpled bills and loose change along with a condom from his jeans. Emma felt Killian stiffen next to her, but she didn’t take her eyes off Neal, who was smirking smugly at her father. 

“See?” he said. “Nothing.” 

“And what about this?” asked David, indicating the letter jacket tossed across the counter. Neal waved his hand at it.

“Go ahead, man. Take a look.” 

David picked up the jacket and reached into the pocket. Anger hardened his features as he pulled forth the bottle of vodka Emma had seen Neal with earlier. “Care to explain this?” he asked tightly. 

Neal’s eyes widened and he began to bluster. “I— I don’t know how— that’s not— that’s not mine!” 

David gestured to one of the deputies, who pulled out an evidence bag. David deposited the bottle into it then looked hard at Neal. “I’m going to need you to come to the station,” he said. “All three of you.” 

“What did we do?” protested Felix. 

“I can smell the alcohol on you from here,” said David, his eyes flashing, revealing just a hint of the fury Emma knew he must be feeling. “You brought illegal substances to my daughter’s birthday party, and I suspect you tried to frame an innocent boy for possession of them. Now come. with. me.” 

Neal swallowed hard, looking small and scared. He wobbled as he stood up from the stool, and Emma darted forwards to catch his arm before he fell. 

“You and I are done,” she hissed at him, fingernails digging ruthlessly into his arm. “Never speak to me again.” She shoved him roughly and he stumbled back into Felix and Rufio. 

David stood at the door, holding it open. 

“Don’t make me wait,” he said. 

The three boys filed out of the diner and David let his eyes sweep the room, his expression stern and hard. “I am trusting the rest of you to behave in a way that will not disappoint me or your parents or yourselves,” he said. “If I hear even the smallest hint that anything else that shouldn’t be going on at this party is going on, you will not enjoy the consequences. Have a good night.” He turned and exited the diner, leaving dead silence in his wake. Even the jukebox had stopped playing. Slowly, every head in the place turned to look at Killian, whose cool composure slipped slightly under the collective scrutiny. He scratched nervously behind his ear. 

“He, erm, put the bottle in my pocket about half an hour ago,” he said, addressing the diner at large. “He’s as subtle as a sledgehammer, so of course I noticed. I returned the favour, with rather more finesse.” 

No one spoke for several beats, and Killian began to turn pink. Finally, Ruby broke the silence. “What about fingerprints?” she asked. 

Killian held up his handkerchief, which was still sitting on the table in front of him. “I wrapped it in this,” he said. 

Ruby grinned, looking impressed, and Victor began to laugh. “Damn, Jones, you work with James Bond or something?” 

Killian grinned back. “Only at weekends,” he quipped, and the tension was broken. Laughter broke out around the room and someone shouted “Turn the music back on!” 

People began to mill around Killian, peppering him with questions, and Emma spotted several of her fellow cheerleaders eyeing him with sharpened interest. She allowed this to go on for precisely two minutes before grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the crowd. “Stop harassing him, you guys,” she said. “You’ll blow his cover.” More laughter followed this remark and people turned away, allowing Emma to pull Killian out of the diner and up the stairs into the lounge of Granny’s B&B. 

He was looking nervous again, and she smiled. “I broke up with Neal.” 

“I heard.” 

“I’m so sorry, Killian, I can’t believe he tried to do that to you.” 

Killian snorted. “I can,” he said. “He’s a complete gobshite. Arrogance and stupidity are a bad combination.” He looked at her, his eyes softening with an emotion that made her heart gallop. “You deserve so much better.” 

She stepped closer to him, placing her hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her palms thundering as hard as her own. He caught his breath sharply but didn’t pull away. 

“You also deserve better than me,” he said firmly. 

“Killian—”

“Emma, I was serious about what I said to you that day in the hall. I can’t stay here. I have to get back to England as soon as I can.”

“Why?” she cried, exasperated. “What’s so important?”

“I— I can’t tell you that.” 

She wanted to snarl and gnash her teeth in frustration. “But—”

“No! I just have to go, okay? As soon as the AP exam results are out, then Liam can’t stop me even though I won’t be eighteen yet.” He saw her confused look and clarified. “I have a conditional offer from Oxford already, I just need high enough scores and I can start uni next year. Even if I don’t get the scores I— I’ll think of something. But I’m not staying in Storybrooke, Emma, no matter what. Do you understand that?”

She could sense the conflict in him, knew that once again he was trying to convince himself as much as her. But she simply nodded in agreement. Whatever was troubling him, whatever secret he was keeping, she was confident that if he’d just let her in then they could work it out together. She had to be patient. 

“I understand,” she said, letting her fingertips trace the band logo on his t-shirt. “But you’re here now, and next year is a long way off.” 

His blue eyes blazed as he looked down at her. “Emma,” he whispered, both in warning and entreaty. “Please don’t. You don’t— you don’t know—”

“I’m not a child, Killian. I’m older than you, and I know what I’m doing.” 

There was an edge of desperation in his answering laugh. “Do you? That’s good, because I bloody well don’t.” 

“Then let me show you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her fingertips brush through the hair at its nape, and pressed her lips to his. For a moment he was motionless, and she felt a flash of fear that he might find the strength to reject her. But then his arms were around her and his lips were moving against hers, and she had a second to observe that he was really surprisingly good at this before his tongue swept into her mouth and wiped every coherent thought from her mind.