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gothgoblinbabe · 4 months ago

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She Wolf

A/N: I said I was gonna get this done and it took me way too long and has an absurd word count but I am incapable of holding in word vomit! Inspired by She Wolf by Shakira cause idc its GOOD and it got me thinking' so here it is. Also you don't have to listen to the song as you read but I think It's fun!

Summary: You've got a crush on your best friend and he's a bit of a dick. He regrets it and tries to apologize but you're already trying to push yourself to move on any way you can, even if it's in some shady club you'd never been to before.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, swearing, Logan's kind of an asshole for a minute, Possessive/jealous!Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), friends to lovers cause that's my fave, fem reader, mutant reader, unnamed creepy guy (?) aaaand Logan absolutely has a pain kink. I think that's it but if there's any I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 7K (im so sorry but I'm not though)

divider credit here

“Are you ever gonna tell him?”

You looked up from your desk towards Ororo’s voice, sighing and taking your glasses off your nose.

“God, I don’t know, ‘ro. I don’t think I should. It’s just going to end with me being humiliated and him never wanting to even be in the same room as me again.”

You’d had a crush on Logan Howlett since the day you first walked through the doors of the mansion six months ago. You’d probably be considered best friends by now with how much time you’d spend together, doing jack shit around the mansion on your days off. Just about everyone could tell he had a soft spot for you and that you had one for him. Logan was a classic ‘tough guy’, constantly trying to hide his kind nature with a hard exterior, but it took only a couple weeks for you to crack that barrier. You weren’t exactly a seemingly ‘soft’ type either.

You’d spent the majority of your life before you joined the X-men hoping from couch to couch and hitching rides with strangers, not really having a destination or a place to call home. You’d been dropped off at a church when you were fourteen, around the time you started to turn every full moon. Your parents couldn’t live with having to chain their mutant daughter in their basement once a month, and so they dropped you where they thought you’d find some ‘help’. You’d been passed from foster home to foster home till you were eighteen, each one passing you up the moment they realized you were not like them. It was always a slip of the mask, something setting you off to make you so enraged your eyes gleam yellow and your sharp canines make an unfortunate appearance. You took off the second you could and being on the road came with its fair share of creeps; men with terrible intentions looking for opportunities. You’d never wanted to hurt anyone - truly - but when cornered by a creep, it was hard to think anyone would miss them. A couple of local newspapers caught on, debating where the wolf that tore men to shreds had gone. You weren’t an animal. You just had teeth like one.

Knowing you couldn’t lurk in town much longer, you’d hitchhiked your way to a camp occupied with people like you; lost with no place to call home. It was there that you’d met a couple of mutants who told you about Charles Xavier and the place that seemed completely unreal until you set your eyes on it. That felt like a lifetime ago by now.

“I think you're underestimating how he feels about you,” Ororo said, bringing you back to reality. She was sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through one of your magazines as you worked at your computer to try and make a lesson plan for the coming week.

“I think you’re overestimating how he feels about me,” you let out a short laugh, shaking your head.

Just as she was about to retort, you both heard someone shout your names from the hallway. You looked at each other curiously and left the room, hearing shouting again.

“Are you guys gonna play Monopoly with us or what?”

You both giggled and made your way downstairs towards Scott’s voice. Him, Jean, Marie, Bobby and Logan were all sat in the living room, the game already set up on the coffee table. Bobby and Marie were picking out their game pieces, assigning everyone else to their own piece.

“Okay, Logan, you’re gonna be the dog,” Marie smiled, dropping the little metal piece into the palm of his hand.

He was definitely not as amused, “why do I have to be a damn dog?”

Ignoring him, she handed another piece out to Jean, “you’re the thimble.”

She then handed the boat to Scott, the top hat to you, and the iron to Ororo. You all began the game after Scott painstakingly over-explained the rules and how to play.

It was a good bit into the game that you all became distracted with conversation, eventually leaving the board game untouched. The topic of compatibility came up somehow, the conversation focused on the joy of Bobby and Marie.

“I think anyone would be lucky to have what you guys have,” Ororo smiled, shifting her gaze between the two of them.

“And what we have, obviously,” Scott joked, hanging his arm around Jean.

“Gross,” Logan chimed in, taking a sip of the beer he’d hidden in the back of the fridge.

“I think someone is jealous,” Ororo said in a singsong voice, poking his arm.

“Of having someone hang on me all the time? No, thanks,” he scoffed.

As stupid as it was, it made you a little sad to hear he had no interest in even entertaining the idea. It wasn’t a surprise, but still a disappointment nonetheless.

Ororo brought up your name and your eyes went huge, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut.

“You don’t seem to mind her hanging on you all the time. I think you’d be cute together,” she said, smiling mischievously at you. Scott and Jean agreed and you had never wanted to smash your head into a coffee table as much as you did in that moment.

“Nah, definitely not my type of girl.”

It was just seven words, out quick without a second thought, and yet it felt like you’d been punched in the gut. You couldn’t take your eyes off the monopoly board on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

Definitely not my type of girl.

“I think I should head to bed, it’s getting late,” you mumbled, keeping your head down to hide your blushed face as you got up from the couch and practically ran out of the room and up the stairs.

“What the hell was that?” Scott scolded Logan the moment you were out of sight.

“That was so mean,” Ororo chimes in, backhanding him on the arm.

“I didn’t mean to be,” Logan said nervously , shrugging his shoulders, “…do you think she’s mad at me?”

“Probably more hurt than mad,” Jean said honestly.

“Shit,” he sighed, putting his beer down to rub his face with his hands, “what do I say?”

“Not that,” Marie replied, “why did you even say that anyway? You could’ve just said no.”

“I think you like her and you’re being mean so that she wont like you back because you’re afraid,” Ororo said after a moment of silence.

Logan sat quiet for a moment, his hands still over his face.

“Am I that easy to read?” His voice was muffled through his hands.

The rest of them couldn’t help exchanging knowing smiles.

“So you finally admit it,huh? You’ve got a crush,” Scott teased.

Logan moved his hands from his eyes to glare daggers at him, “you shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shove that monopoly board where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Jean whispered to her boyfriend.

“Talk to her when you see her tomorrow. We’re not going to let you hurt her feelings just because you can’t accept your own,” Ororo advised, lightly patting him on the shoulder.

“Do you think she’s even gonna talk to me?”

“Only one way to find out.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan tried to catch up with you the next day, always seeing you as you were leaving a room he was entering or passing by and even then, you ignored his calls of your name.

It was a little after dinner now and because it was a weekend, a couple of kids were up playing the PlayStation in the living room. Bobby and Marie sat with them, taking turns with the controllers.

Logan entered the room after about three laps around the mansion, mentioning your name to the both of them.

“Have you guys seen her? I’ve been trying to talk to her all day, she keeps running from me.”

“Can’t really blame her,” Bobby muttered, his eyes never leaving the TV screen as he button smashed.

“She’s in her room,” Marie answered before Logan could come up with a retort, “she went up before dinner, said she wasn’t hungry.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “she’s skipping dinner now too, great.”

“Go talk to her!” She insisted, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.

He made his way to the stairs and up to your bedroom, knocking lightly on your door. Hearing nothing, he knocked again, a little harder. Still, nothing.

“You can’t avoid me forever, you know. I wanna talk about yesterday, I was a dick.”

Silence. Now he was a little worried. He tentatively grabbed the doorknob and turned, cracking it open a bit.

Your bed was made, your desk was neatly organized and you were nowhere to be seen. He noticed your purse was gone from the usual spot you’d leave it in and your closet was open, a couple garments and some shoes strewn about on the floor. It looked like you’d gotten dressed and dipped. He figured maybe Ororo or Jean might know where you were, leaving your room and looking for them instead. He found them shortly after, huddled in the kitchen. Again, he asked if either of them knew where you were.

“She’s in her room, she went up before dinner,” Ororo answered.

“No, she’s not. And her purse is gone.”

Both women turned to each other with the same worried expression.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Having tried your cellphone about thirteen times from just about everybody’s phones, they all decided they had to tell Charles. He used his ability to connect with every mutant on the planet to try and locate you, visualizing with his eyes closed. Everyone stood in his study, anxiously awaiting his conclusion. After a moment of silence, he started to silently chuckle to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asked immediately, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’m afraid you all have your work cut out for you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes.

“So, where is she?” Ororo asked, worry in her voice.

“There is a club called The Nightcrawler - “ Charles began to explain, but Logan interjected impatiently.

“Club? What, like a book club?” He nearly scoffed. There was no way you were at some sleazy nightclub in the city. You were a homebody and an introvert, neither of which made clubbing enjoyable.

“Maybe we should just let her have fun,” Jean began to say, but Logan was already halfway out the door.

Uncharacteristically, you found yourself dressed to the nines in the middle of a dance floor full of people. You’d spent a while trying outfits in your room, searching for something you could actually wear out that wasn’t sweatpants and a hoodie. You’d settled on a halter top that tied at your neck and in the back and a pair of ridiculously tight pants that you’d bought forever ago and never had the guts to wear. You ended up standing in front of the mirror, choosing a pair of very cute but very uncomfortable shoes and looking over the outfit. If you weren’t Logan’s ‘type of girl’, you sure as hell were somebody’s. Trying to get yourself out there may be the best solution to forgetting the heart-crushing infatuation you had with your best friend who would never see you as anything more.

“I feel ridiculous,” you chuckled to yourself, turning in the mirror to see the back of your outfit. You did look good, just super out of your comfort zone. You grabbed your bag and ended up slipping out when everyone was eating dinner. That’s how you ended up where you were, pushing your way through the crowd of people with a drink in your hand. You passed the raised lounge area and felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn suddenly.

“Hey, you wanna dance?”

He was tall, leaning down a little to shout over the music. He was pretty good looking but didn’t look like Logan in the slightest, which you realized was exactly the point of going out tonight. He was dressed nice and smelled like expensive cologne.

“Sure, why not?”

As you abandoned your half finished drink on a table and let him pull you a little further into him, a familiar song started to thump through the speakers.

“I love this song!” You exclaimed, letting the nameless guy rest his hands on your hips.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

“Ironic,” you muttered under the music.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan walked ahead of Ororo, Jean and Scott, his long legs taking him much further at a much faster pace.

“Logan, slow down!” Ororo called out, jogging a bit to catch up with him.

“What if she didn’t even want to be there? What if some guy dragged her there?”

“Oh,” Jean laughed, “ I see. You’re jealous.”

“No.”

“Yup.”

“Nope.”

“So you’d be fine if we walked in there and she is with a guy?”

Logan slowed his pace as they approached the entrance, “sure, whatever,” feigned disdain in his voice.

The second the door opened, the bass of the music was overwhelming. It was dim, save for a few colorful lights projecting around the room. The four of them were squished together near the door, trying to pick you out in a sea of moving people.

“This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Scott shouted.

“Not necessarily,” Ororo replied, a smug smile on her face.

“What?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.

She pointed across the room and he followed her gaze.

There's a she wolf in the closet

Open up and set it free

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

You didn’t even look like you. He’d never seen you in anything that showed that much skin or any clothes that even hugged you like that, for that matter.

And you were with a guy.

Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey

It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way

“So, what did we tell you?” Jean shouted, waving her hand in front of his glaring eyes.

“Just some kid,” he replied dismissively, turning to her, “doesn’t mean anything anyway.”

“You sure?” Scott nudged his shoulder, making Logan look towards you again.

That kid had his hands up the sides of your top with his head craned down to kiss your neck, your back to his chest. You were giggling, playfully smacking his arm. Truthfully, you thought the attention was nice for a change. After trying so hard for too long to get Logan to notice you, it felt good to have someone pay attention to you in that way.

Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys

I just want to enjoy

By having a very good time

And behave very bad in the arms of a boy

You felt his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, enough for his nails to dig into your skin. Out of instinct, you felt your canine teeth start to poke against your lower lip. You tried in vain to tug his hands from you, only making him tighten his grip.

The switch in demeanor was obvious even from across the dark room, your smile turning into a grimace that bared your sharp teeth. You yanked the sleeves of his jacket to make him finally let go, turning around while he still had his arms ghosted around you.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

“Touch me like that again, you son of a bitch, and I will rip you to fucking shreds.”

You gathered fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him down to eye level so he could see your snarling teeth and gleaming eyes as a hint that you weren’t bluffing.

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

Before anyone could even tell him to stay put, Logan had already disappeared into the crowd of people.

“God damn it,” Scott huffed, following Jean and Ororo when they went after him.

“Logan!” Jean yelled, trying to grab his jacket to slow him and only having him slip out of her grip.

There's a she wolf in the closet

Let it out so it can breathe

“Shit, I’m kinda into the fangs. What, you gonna bite me?” He was whispering in your ear, your hands still on his shirt. Before you could do something you were going to regret, you felt someone tug your upper arm and pull you away from him.

“Come on,” Logan snapped, “we’re leaving.”

“What the hell are you doing here? What do you mean we?” You yelled back. You didn’t want to stay anywhere near that guy but you weren’t ready to leave either and sure as hell not with Logan dragging you out like an angry parent.

“Hey, she doesn’t really look like she wants to leave with you, man,” the other guy interjected, keeping a grip on you by looping his fingers through one of the belt loops on your pants.

“Yeah? She doesn’t want to stay with you either, jackass,” Logan moved his hand from your arm to hold your hand instead, “she’s not interested.”

What the hell had gotten into him? You felt like you were in the middle of a tug of war with two dogs.

“No one’s gonna fucking ask what I want, right?” You tried to complain, neither of them hearing you.

“Your little doggy girlfriend here was just about to take care of me. You mad about it?” The other guy laughed and you nearly lunged at him, Logan’s hand tugging you back. He intended to pull you away so he could get to him first, but Scott, Jean and Ororo jumped in just in time.

“Alright - enough, enough, we’re leaving!” Jean yelled, pushing you all towards the door, Logan dragging you the whole way. When you finally were out in the cool evening air, you angrily yanked your hand from his.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, turning to Logan, “and what the fuck was that?”

“What was that? You’re welcome - “

“I didn’t ask you to come save me - from what, having a good time?”

“Oh, yeah, it looked like you were having a lot of fun,” he scoffed, “he had you by the hip so hard he probably left a bruise.”

He instinctively reached his hand out to check and you swatted it away, “Don’t - Don’t touch me!”

None of them had ever heard you sound so pissed off and you’d definitely never snapped at Logan like that before.

You took a deep breath and reached down to slip off your shoes, leaving you barefoot on the concrete.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to the rest of them,” but why are you guys here?”

“You left without saying anything, we couldn’t find you and we wanted to be sure you were safe,” Ororo sighed, hugging you in relief, “we’re so glad you’re okay.”

You hugged her back.

“I just - I wanted to disappear for a while,” you explained apologetically, avoiding Jean and Scott’s gaze.

“Do you know how stupid it was to run off and not tell anyone where you were going?” Logan scolded you, but Jean clicked her tongue at him.

“Shut it! Enough from you! You’ve done enough damage control!”

The ride home was almost silent, your tired body slumped in the backseat between Scott and Jean, until Ororo spoke from the front passenger seat.

“Honey, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but,” she paused, thinking over her words, “what were you gonna do to that guy if we hadn’t stopped you?”

You understood what she meant immediately.

“What, you think I was going to kill him?” you asked, crossing your arms and leaning forward in your seat, “I wasn’t. I don’t do that unless I have to and you know even then I hate doing it.”

“I know…so, what were you doing with a guy like him anyway?” she asked, trying to move on from the question that had clearly made you upset, “he seemed kinda shady.”

Logan was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white, dreading the answer.

You shrugged your shoulders, staring at the synthetic fabric of your pants.

“Liked the attention, I guess,” you answered honestly, kind of hoping you could throw anyone off the idea of you being interested in Logan, “it’s been awhile since a guy has liked me like that.”

“He only wanted one thing from you anyway,” he scoffed from the front seat. Ororo glared at him, about to tell him to mind his business before you stopped her.

“And I can’t want it either?”

That shut everybody up and Ororo turned to him again, a look on her face that said ‘you asked, you got the answer’.

You tried to bolt to your room when you all got home but Logan was quick to follow, catching up with you to stand in your path in the hallway outside of your bedroom.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Leave me be.”

You tried to dodge around him but he stuck his arm out.

“Logan.”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue speaking.

“Move.”

“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t disappear like that, ever. And I wanna talk to you about last night - “

“There’s nothing to talk about. Goodnight,” you huffed, ducking under his arm and opening your door.

“I care about you, you know, I was worried,” he began to explain.

You tried to slam the door in his face but he stuck his foot out, jamming his boot between the door and the doorframe. You let go in defeat and turned away, gathering your pajamas as if he wasn’t in the room.

“Yeah? Why?,” you scoffed, trying with everything in you to bite your tongue but failing miserably, “I’m not your type of girl. What’s there to worry about?”

Logan’s face fell. He pushed the door closed behind him.

“Is that what this is about? That’s why you went out?”

“Why do you care?”

You still had your back to him, furiously shuffling through clothing in your dresser.

“Stop.”

You felt his hands on your arms as he came up behind you, paralyzing you in your spot.

You let him turn you around gently, almost chest to chest.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings -“

“I’m not.”

He leaned back a little to force you to look him in the eye.

“I only said that - listen, I only said that because - “ Logan paused, biting his lip till it nearly bled, but you shook your head and slipped by him again.

“Please, don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Logan.”

You sounded so exasperated, tears forming in your eyes when you turned your back to him.

“Fuck,” he sighed, “I only said that because I didn’t want you to like me.”

You wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek and turned back to him, a confused expression on your face.

“It worked, are you happy?”

“No, I’m not - “

“Well, guess it backfired. Get out of my room.”

You were face to face again, keeping your mouth in a tight line so your lip wouldn’t quiver. It felt stupid to cry in front of him, but you couldn’t really help it once it started.

“Oh, god, please, don’t cry,” he begged, leaning down and actually bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You wanted to smack it away, tell him again to just get the hell out , but you couldn’t.

“Why would you do that?” You mumbled out quietly, finally letting the overwhelming feeling of sadness cancel out any rage you had for him. You couldn’t look him in the eye again, concentrating on the throw rug you were standing on.

“I’m so sorry, princess, I am. I’m really fucking stupid,” he huffed.

You were surprised by the softness of his voice and finally tore your eyes from the floor. He’d called you that before, but usually in a teasing way. This time it sounded endearing, like a plea of your name.

“And what happened there, at the club? ‘She’s not interested’, what was that about?” You continued.

He sighed, still trying to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted to say. He realized there probably wasn’t much of a way to beat around the bush and he groaned, closing his eyes as he stood in front of you to make spilling his guts a little less agonizing.

“I like you - like you a lot, and I was an asshole because I figured if you hated me, you couldn’t like me back and it would save you the trouble.”

Hearing no response, he finally opened his eyes to see you still standing in the same spot, your lips parted.

“Save me the trouble of what?”

You were confused, your eyes narrowed as if you were angry.

“I don’t know…having to deal with me, I guess. I - I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else and it scares the shit out of me.”

You could hear him swallow hard, his eyes looking everywhere around the room except at you.

“And earlier, when we picked you up,” he continued, “I acted like that because I was jealous, alright? Can’t stand to see some asshole on you like that, and you were dressed all nice and - I don’t know.”

You’d never heard him sound so nervous in all the time you’d known him.

“You are my type of girl,” he finally choked out, “only type of girl I’d ever want.”

All you could do was inhale sharply, his words echoing in your mind.

“It’s alright if you hate me, I can’t say I really blame you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He began to walk out, convinced he’d fucked up beyond repair.

“Logan.”

Your voice stopped his hand from turning your doorknob and he turned back to you.

No longer crying, you tentatively stepped forward a bit, nervously playing with the front hem of your top.

“You’re not something to deal with, you know,” you muttered, letting your hair fall in front of your face.

You supposed this was the point where it was your turn to explain.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Logan, probably since the day I walked in here and I just - I think I wanted someone to distract me so I wouldn’t wallow in self pity because you didn’t want me.”

“You were trying to get over me,” he realized aloud, a small smile on his face to hide the hurt, “I deserved that.”

After a moment of tense silence, he spoke again.

“Did it work?”

His voice was low and soft, a tone you’d rarely heard him speak with.

You pursed your lips and finally lifted your head, taking a deep breath.

“No. I don’t think it was ever going to, either,” you laughed a little, “when that guy asked me to dance, the first thing I thought of was that he didn’t look anything like you.”

Your voice trailed off a little at the end, a little embarrassed to confess that even if Logan had already flat out told you he was interested in you.

Without another word, he came close enough to reach for your hands and gently intertwine your fingers with his. He cleared his throat, nervously chewing his bottom lip before he spoke.

“Can I kiss you?”

You must have had this dream a million times over, waking up night after night and feeling so empty because none of it was real. But now, with his hands in yours, it was very real.

You eagerly pressed your lips to his, not wanting to waste another second. His lips were soft and you were encompassed in the scent of his body wash and cologne, smelling of pine and cedar wood. You brought your hands up to play with his hair at the back of his head. Logan moved his arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you further into him.

When you finally pulled away from each other, you were both smiling like idiots.

“We should’ve done that much sooner,” you giggled.

“Agreed.”

His fingers traced small circles on the exposed skin of your back, making you shiver.

He kissed you again, this time with much more intensity. It wasn’t long before your tongues were in each other's mouths and you both had fumbled yourselves over to the end of your bed.

“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbled between kissing your neck and jaw, his hands still sliding up and down your back, “I was so stupid.”

“We both were,” you giggled a little, cut short into a moan when he licked your neck all the way from your collarbone to under your ear.

“L-Logan,” you gasped, unable to hide your blushing face.

He hummed into your neck, bringing his mouth to your ear, “Can I show you how sorry I am? Let me make it up to you.”

His voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you let him pull you onto him to straddle his lap, lost in the feeling of his hands on you.

“Mmm, uh-huh,” you hummed, mouth hung open as he sucked light marks into your neck.

“You have to use your words, pretty girl,” he brought his head up to rest his forehead against yours. He cupped your jaw tenderly, almost as if you’d disappear if he let go.

Before you could answer, he moved his hands to drag your hips over his, grunting when he felt the pressure.

“Y-yes, yeah - please,” you choked out between moans, tugging his hair harder every time he pushed and pulled your hips.

“Please what, baby?”

“You - you can make it up to me,” you groaned into his neck.

He effortlessly lifted you by your thighs and laid you with your back to the bed. You untucked his white t-shirt from his jeans as he crawled over you, desperate to get your hands underneath it. You lightly scratched your nails along his back, making him groan into your ear. He kissed down your neck to the center of your chest, gently slipping his fingers under the hem of your top and around the back.

“Can I take this off you, baby?”

You were already sitting up before he could finish his sentence, reaching to try and untie the knot at the back of your neck.

“Eager, huh?”, he chuckled, “let me, sweetheart.”

He wrapped his arms around your lower back to tug at the knot, feeling it come loose in his hands. He snaked his hands up to the back of your neck, doing the same to the tied strings there. When it came loose, the only thing holding the piece of fabric to you was his hands at the back of your neck. He let it slip from his fingers, a smirk on his face when it fell completely.

You threw the garment somewhere to the floor and tugged on the collar of his t-shirt, bringing him down with you as laid back again and pressed your lips to his. He pulled back for a moment to yank his shirt off and immediately return his mouth to yours, making his way down to your neck. He brought both his hands to your chest and swept his thumbs over your hard nipples, eventually bringing his lips to them and sucking.

“Ah - Logan,” you whined, making him smile against your skin.

“I like it when you say my name, pretty girl,” he mumbled, dragging his fingers down your sides and hooking them into the waistband of your pants. He kissed all the way down to your hips, moving himself to lay on his stomach with his head between your thighs.

Before he could ask you if it was alright to rid you of them, you were already unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your hips and thighs. He took them off the rest of the way for you and you kicked your panties off with them.

He hooked his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, licking his lips and resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh.

“I thought about you a lot, you know - like this,” he huffed, his warm breath fanning over your pussy.

You had your hands in his hair already, swiping fallen strands of hair out of his face.

“I thought about you like this, too,” you admitted, sighing as he started to plant kisses right above where you wanted him the most.

“Yeah?”

His teasing voice brought goosebumps to your skin and you nodded, gasping when you finally felt his lips graze your clit.

“This what you think about when you fuck yourself?” He mumbled into you, the vibration of his voice making you tighten your grip in his hair. He growled like an animal, trying to push you even further into his mouth by the grip on your thighs.

You were trying to choke out an answer, distracted by the wet sounds of him messily eating you out.

“Y - ah, yes, yeah - not as good as the real thing, though.”

He laughed with his mouth still attached to you and you tightened your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.

He could have spent hours with his mouth to your cunt, practically fucking you with his tongue while you whined his name.

A knock on your door sounded through the room, the both of you freezing in place.

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?”

It was Scott.

You grimaced, thankful at the very least that your door was locked, but Logan had a terribly smug smirk on his face.

“Y-yeah, I’m alright, just - just tired,” you managed to choke out, stuttering when you felt two of his fingers slip into you effortlessly.

“You sure?”

You sighed, hating and loving Logan at the same time for what he was doing.

“Yup, th-thank you, m’ jus’ gonna go to bed.”

Scott responded with a goodnight and you groaned in relief when you heard him walk away.

Logan was curling his fingers inside of you, still lapping at your pussy and letting you use your grip on his hair to angle his head however you wanted him. You felt the pressure in your lower stomach rise and you tried to warn him, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.

“Logan, I’m - “

“C’mon, pretty girl, c’mon.”

His encouragement sent you over the edge, euphoria blooming from your lower stomach and spreading through you. You had to cover your mouth to muffle your pornographic moans, but Logan reached up to tug your wrist.

“Uh-uh, wanna hear you, beautiful,” he mumbled into you, practically pushing your thighs even further around his head.

“Fuck, L-Logan, too - too sensitive,” you stuttered out, trying to pull his face away by his hair and failing miserably because of his grip around your thighs.

He eventually reluctantly detached himself and crawled back on top of you, sucking the taste of you off his fingers.

“I could do that for hours, you know, if you let me,” he groaned, pulling your hips up to him so you could feel the weight of his hard cock underneath his jeans.

Still sensitive, you reactively gripped his biceps and dug your fingernails into his skin. You were going to apologize and were quickly cut off by the guttural moan he let out into the side of your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned, rocking his hips against yours.

“You’re into pain, huh?”

You figured it was your turn to tease him, dragging your fingernails from his shoulders all the way down his back.

“You’re gonna pay for that, pretty girl,” he grunted, moving quickly to undo his belt and strip himself of the rest of his clothing.

When his cock sprung up and hit his stomach as he took off his boxers, you swallowed hard; already feeling a wanting ache in your stomach again. You figured he was big - he was already a tall guy, after all - but he was far bigger than any guy you’d ever seen. Logan noticed the way you bit your lower lip, resting himself on top of you again and bringing his thumb up to pull your lip from under your teeth.

“What, are you nervous? It’s alright sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His voice was so soft and gentle, a tone you rarely ever heard from him.

You could feel the weight of his cock against your inner thigh, heavy and already leaking.

“ ‘m not nervous, I want you, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. You reached your hand between your bodies to line him up with your entrance, trying to push him in with your legs around his waist.

“You sure?” he huffed, trying with every muscle in his body to not slam into you in one thrust.

You nodded eagerly, scratching at his lower back.

Logan couldn’t help himself and gave in, slipping himself into you.

“So tight,” he groaned into your neck, pushing himself in even further.

“You - fuck - you’re so fucking big,” you admitted truthfully, nearly drooling at the feeling of him stretching you out.

“Feels good?”

It was hard for him to speak when you were so wet that he was nearly slipping out of you as he gently rocked his hips back and forth, trying to be gentle and let you adjust to his size.

“Mm - uh-uh,” you hummed, gasping each time he pushed further.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he huffed and you groaned, digging your nails into him.

“Y-yes, yeah - want you all the way in,” you whimpered.

That was all it took for him to be buried in you, grinding his hips into yours so that you were pinned to the mattress.

He worked up to a devastating pace, practically slamming your headboard into the wall.

“S-someone’s gonna - someone’s gonna hear us,” you managed to gasp out, out of breath every time he filled you and pulled back again.

“Don’t care, let ‘em,” he pressed his forehead to yours, bringing a hand up to your face to affectionately cup your cheek. It was so sweet and almost disgustingly hot, the caring gesture contrasting the intense feeling of him repeatedly slamming into the sensitive spot inside of you.

He really didn’t have a care in the world about who heard you both, far too lost in the feeling of finally being able to have you under him like that. You had sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to your face, your eyes squeezed shut, and he was almost sure you’d never looked more beautiful.

“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. He had an idea, one he’d considered many times when he thought of you under him like this.

“Bite me.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, threading your hand through his hair, “are you sure?”

“Please.”

You forcibly unsheathed your fangs, letting them tentatively poke at his thumb that was still to your lips.

He moved his hand to your throat, resting it there without tightening his grip.

“Please.”

His pleading had the heat in your lower stomach rising and you obliged, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You felt guilty - you didn’t enjoy hurting people - until he was whimpering in your ear, moaning your name over and over again.

You bit his neck, his shoulders, his lip - all the small puncture wounds healing themselves within seconds.

Having him so pussy drunk and groaning praises into your ear brought the pressure in your lower stomach to a max and you cried out his name, letting him fuck you through your second orgasm.

“ ‘s good, huh, princess? Come on me, c’mon,” he was begging, feeling your muscles tense around him. That drove him over the edge, his hips rutting into you and his thrusts becoming sloppy. He finally let himself go, filling you and letting it drip from you onto the sheets. He pulled back a little to see the mess you had both made, your inner thighs painted with a mix of his release and yours. He went to pull out completely and you clamped your thighs around his hips again, keeping him still.

“Want me to stay?”

“Mhm - please.”

The sexual tension was replaced with loving comfort, Logan keeping you to his chest as he laid you both on your side. His chin rested on the top of your head and your face was against his chest with your eyes closed. You smiled at the thump of his heartbeat in your ear, nearly letting it put you to sleep.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he mumbled into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head, “you know I love you?”

The last three words made your eyes shoot open and you looked up at him, worried you’d misheard him or maybe he was just messing with you.

“Really?”

“Of course. You think I would’ve done that with you if I wasn’t in love?”

You thought hard for a second, realizing he was right. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had hookups before, but it had been quite a long time since he’d bothered to even get to know someone like that. He wasn’t the type to lead you on, either - always up front with you, even if he didn’t have to be.

“I love you too,” you answered, unable to hide the wide smile on your face.

“I should’ve told you much sooner,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as you snuggled into him again.

Before you could both fall asleep from exhaustion, he yanked the comforter over the both of you, hearing you mumble sleepily.

“You can make it up to me some more.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

A/N: If you made it to the end I love you <3 pls lmk what you think and reblog+like if you enjoyed!! also still navigating how to write smut without using cringe terminology so forgive me if that part sucks

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fic #logan howlett smut #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #wolverine fic #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine smut #wolverine

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rafecameronssl4t · 4 months ago

Note

Could you do reader and rafes reaction to when they found out easer is first pregnant for the force’s marriage au? LOVED the first part!!

First pregnancy || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: this fic is a 100% how i think rafe and reader would react in this situation

Warnings: mention of pregnancy, angst if there's anything else lmk

Word count: 1,457

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

You flip over the pregnancy test, your heart sinking as you see two lines. Of course. It was inevitable, given the life you’ve been cornered into. You sigh, throwing the test into the bin with a mixture of resignation and dread.

Leaning against the cool marble sink, you catch your reflection in the mirror—your eyes heavy with a sense of inevitability that’s become all too familiar. The pristine bathroom feels suffocating, its sterile white tiles and polished fixtures reflecting the stark reality you’re trapped in.

Leaving the bathroom, you make your way downstairs to the living room, each step heavy with the weight of what this means. Rafe had left for work a few hours earlier, leaving you alone in the house. It’s been this way for a while—his absence during these crucial moments only magnifies the distance between you.

The quiet of the house, broken only by the soft footfalls of the servants, feels more isolating than comforting. In the corner of your eye, you notice Anita descending the stairs. She’s one of the few people who’ve been with you since you were young, a steady presence in the chaos of your life.

You assume she’s just finished cleaning your room, making everything perfect as always. “Anita?” you call out, your voice softer than intended. She stops, turning to you with a gentle smile that’s both comforting and bittersweet. “Yes, Miss?” she replies, her tone warm and familiar. You look up from your phone, hesitating for a moment.

“Not a word to Rafe, please,” you say, your voice firmer this time, carrying the weight of the secret you now bear. Anita’s eyes soften with understanding. She doesn’t need any more explanation. “Of course, congratulations to you both. Your parents will be overjoyed, they’ve been waiting for this,” she says before continuing on her way.

Her words hit you like a blow to the chest, knocking the breath from your lungs. Of course, your parents would be thrilled. This is all they ever wanted from you and Rafe—a continuation of the family bloodline, a legacy to carry forward. They didn’t care if the two of you were unhappy, if this marriage was more a prison than a partnership. As long as the family name persisted, nothing else mattered.

"Where is she?" Rafe's voice echoes through the quiet house, sharp and impatient. Anita’s calm response cuts through the tension. "She isn’t feeling well, Mr. Cameron," she says, her tone polite and soothing. Rafe grunts in acknowledgment and takes his seat at the dining table, his eyes scanning the empty chair opposite him—usually filled by you each morning.

Later that day, as you and Rafe drive to your parents' house for lunch, a wave of nausea washes over you. You place one hand protectively on your lower stomach, the other coming up to cover your mouth as you close your eyes and focus on steadying your breath. Morning sickness has been relentless lately, more intense and persistent than before. While you’ve managed to keep it hidden from Rafe up until now, the strain is starting to show.

Rafe’s gaze flickers to you briefly, his eyes narrowing with concern. Without a word, he reaches into the console and retrieves a bottle of water, handing it to you with an absent-minded flick of his wrist. He doesn’t even glance at you as he passes it over. "Thanks," you murmur, your voice barely audible as you unscrew the lid and take a slow sip, your eyes fixed out the window.

As the car rolls to a stop in front of your family estate, Rafe is already unbuckling his seatbelt, eager to get this over with. But before he can move, you reach out, your hand covering his, halting his actions. He glances at you, confusion etched across his features. You swallow hard, struggling to find the words, your eyes searching his before you turn away, staring blankly out the windshield.

You feel his gaze on your side profile, waiting, perhaps sensing the gravity of what you’re about to say. "I'm pregnant," you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. The words hang in the air between you, heavy and unyielding. You feel Rafe tense beside you, the atmosphere in the car growing thick with unspoken emotions. His reaction is immediate and sharp, cutting through the silence like a knife.

"Are you seriously telling me this right now? Just before we see your parents?" His voice is laced with anger, catching you completely off guard. You turn to face him, your expression one of disbelief. Is he seriously getting mad right now? Of all the reactions you had braced yourself for, this wasn’t one of them.

"I just told you we're having a child, and this is how you react?" you snap, incredulous. Your disbelief quickly morphs into anger as you watch him look away, his jaw clenched in frustration. His silence only fuels your rage. "Fucking unbelievable," you mutter under your breath as you unbuckle your seatbelt and shove the car door open.

The door slams shut behind you with a resounding thud as you storm toward the front entrance, your emotions boiling over. You’re only a few steps away when you hear Rafe’s car door fly open, followed by the sound of his voice, sharp and laced with frustration.

"What do you expect me to say when you just laid that out on me?" he calls out, his anger evident in every word. You whirl around, arms crossed tightly over your chest, your eyes narrowed as they lock onto his. His expression is a mix of confusion and fury, as if he’s grappling with the enormity of your news and how it collided with the timing.

For a moment, neither of you speak, the tension between you crackling in the crisp air. "I expected you to care!" you finally snap back, your voice trembling with the weight of everything unsaid. Rafe’s eyes widen, caught between defensiveness and something that almost resembles guilt. "I do care," he retorts, his voice softer now but still edged with frustration. He takes a step closer, closing the distance between you.

"But you couldn’t have picked a worse time to tell me. We’re about to walk into your parents’ house, and you drop this on me like it’s nothing?" You can’t help the bitter laugh that escapes your lips. "You think I planned this? That I wanted to tell you in the driveway? I’ve been dealing with this alone, trying to figure out how to break it to you. But every time, you’re either too busy or too angry for me to even get a word in."

His expression falters, and for a split second, you think you see a flicker of understanding in his eyes. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the familiar mask of indifference. "And you thought now was the best time?" he asks, shaking his head in disbelief.

"What do you want me to say, Rafe?" you ask, your voice raw with emotion. "That I should’ve kept it to myself? Pretended everything was fine until it wasn’t? We’re having a child, and I needed you to know before we walked in there and pretended to be the perfect couple again."

Rafe looks away, his jaw clenched tight as he struggles to process the situation. You watch the conflict play out in his eyes, the tug-of-war between the emotions he’s expected to feel and the reality of what he actually feels. His frustration is palpable, and after a tense moment, he sighs heavily, bringing his hands up to massage his temples.

"Can we just get through this lunch, please?" he finally says, his voice soft, almost pleading. His tone catches you off guard—there’s a vulnerability there that you’re not used to hearing from him. You stare at him, torn between wanting to push the conversation further and knowing that now isn’t the time.

His request isn’t unreasonable, but it stings nonetheless, a reminder of the emotional distance that still exists between you. "Fine," you reply after a moment, your voice tinged with resignation. "But this doesn’t change anything. We still need to talk about this—really talk about it."

Rafe nods, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he looks away again. "I know," he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the unspoken hangs heavy between you as you both turn toward the imposing front door of your family estate, ready to face the charade of normalcy that awaits inside.

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rainydayathogwarts · 24 days ago

Text

Just the tip - Ex!Peter Parker

summary: just the tip with ex!peter parker cw: SMUT, kind of pushy/manipulative peter but everything is consensual. wc: 2k

When Peter fell through the open window of your bedroom, you had let out a loud gasp, spinning around in your desk chair, only clad in your exposing pyjamas. At the sight of your ex boyfriend, you put your hands on your hips, instantly abandoning the homework laid out on your desk. Standing up, you walked towards the hopeful boy, watching as he approached you, a pleading look in his eyes. “So we’re normalising breaking into our ex’s apartments now?” Peter opened his mouth, putting both hands on your hips desperately. “Peter just because you’re spider-man-” “Please.” Peter whispered, his eyes tearing up slightly. “I miss you.” He said, making you drop your hands flatly by your sides. One of your hands came up to cup Peter’s face, thumb caressing his cheek softly. Peter leaned into your touch, shutting his eyes as he savoured the moment.

You looked at Peter with concern; this wasn’t the first time he had come back to you, longing to be held. Things had always escalated to more despite telling yourself that you wouldn’t allow it to happen again. “Can you hold me, please?” Peter asked, ducking his head down to nuzzle in the crook of your neck. Obediently, you snaked the hand on Peter’s face around his neck and over his shoulder, the other one wrapping around his torso. Peter sighed, his own arms enveloping around the curve of your waist. You held him for a moment, inhaling his familiar scent as you gently stroked his back. From where Peter’s head is pressed up in the pocket of your neck, he slowly presses a soft kiss to your skin. You took in a sharp breath, jumping slightly at the sudden movement. Peter kissed your neck again, but you didn’t have the heart to pull away from him. “We can’t keep doing this Pete.” You mumbled instead, a hand finding its way in Peter’s soft locks. “Just this once. It’ll be the last time I promise.” You vividly recall him uttering similar words to you last time.

Sighing, you stepped away from Peter, unravelling your arms from around him. As though he knew what you were thinking, Peter added “Baby, please.” You let your head drop to the side, crossing your arms over your chest in an unconvinced manner. “Peter, we broke up. Exes don’t keep going back to each other like this.” At your words, Peter dropped to his knees in front of you, both hands landing on your thighs, softly grasping them. He looked up at you with his signature begging, puppy eyes, leaning his chin on your exposed abdomen. “You broke up with me. I’d never leave you. Just one night. Let me spend one night with you.” You uncrossed your arms from your chest, returning your hand to Peter’s hair, softly scratching at his skull. Peter never broke eye contact with you, leaning just slightly forward to press a kiss on your bare stomach. You tugged your short tank top down, hoping to stop the tickle from Peter’s kisses, until you finally gave in, telling the boy to stand up.

Peter followed you to your bed, chanting quietly “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You tossed the covers off the corner of your bed for you to climb in, patting the empty space next to you for Peter to join you. He immediately climbed in next to you, allowing you to cover him up with the soft blanket before cuddling into you. You turned on your side, facing Peter and watching as he pressed his face directly against your breasts, both hands coming to your hips to pull you closer to him before his arm settled over your waist. Sighing melancholically, you threw a leg over one of Peter’s, tangling your body with his as you leaned forward, pressing a kiss on his forehead. Peter laid still as you played with his hair and kissed along with hairline, treasuring the intimate moment. It had been so long since he had felt loved like this. In fact, the last time he felt cared for was the previous time he had been in your arms, despite your complaints about these reoccurring meetings.

Finally taking his opportunity, Peter shuffled upwards on the bed so that he was face to face with you, nose nudging against yours. With Peter’s intentions clear, you had enough time to pull away if you wanted to, but you felt bad, or at least that’s what you told yourself. You didn’t want consider that the way Peter’s eyes flickered down to your lips made you feel engrossed in him, or that his lips also looked soft. You didn’t want to consider the fact that maybe Peter wanting you so badly drew you closer to him. But he was your ex, and the furthest you would go is a kiss. So when Peter leaned ever so closer to you to press his lips against yours, you didn’t pull away, allowing your eyes to flutter shut.

Peter’s lips moulded against yours, his lips separating slightly so his tongue could shoot out to lips your bottom lip, a silent request for access into your mouth. When your mouth dipped open, allowing Peter’s tongue to press against yours, his hand came up, cupping your jaw to pull you closer to him. Peter pushed himself up on one of his forearms, using the height over you to press you deeper into the mattress as he deepened the kiss, his tongue licking deeper into your mouth. You gasped, pushing Peter away by his chest as you panted in attempt to catch your breath. Peter’s mouth latched onto your neck, immediately suckling at the sensitive skin as he moved his weight over you. Peter held the leg you had on top of his to pull it over his waist, testing your limits as he experimentally thrusted his hips between your spread legs. You immediately gasped, pushing Peter’s mouth off your neck and sitting up straight. Peter fell on the bed next to you, a guilty look on his features. “I thought-” “Peter, exes don’t have sex. If we have sex, we’re official again.” Peter furrowed his eyebrows at your words, the same sentence echoing in his mind over and over again. But I want us to be official again.

“Let me put the tip in. Just the tip.” You looked unconvinced, leaning over to take a sip of water from your bedside table. Peter scanned your legs, your cotton shorts riding up with each movement you did. When you sat up straight again, you readjusted the straps of your tank top and crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly aware of the way your nipples were constraining against the fabric of your top. “Just the tip isn’t sex.” Peter pushed, adding a pleading “Please.” “You’re really going to get off on just putting the tip in?” You questioned, eyeing Peter down. He felt himself harden when your gaze landed on his covered cock. “Just want to feel warm.” He weakly argued.

You rolled your eyes, reaching your hand out to grasp the cotton of Peter’s t-shirt, roughly pulling him towards you so you could slam your lips against his. Peter moaned, softly holding your face, but you broke the kiss as quickly as you started it. Peter froze, awaiting further instruction from you. “Just the tip.” You warned, laying back on your bed. Peter instantly jumped up, as though he had to act before you changed your mind. He tripped over his trousers twice before finally tossing them somewhere in our room, and his boxers went next, carefully watching the way your eyes widened slightly in reminiscence. Peter climbed over you, his knees on either side of your legs as he hooked his fingers through both your shorts and panties. He slowly tugged them down your smooth legs, leaning down to press a single kiss on your mound. Peter climbed off you, manhandling your body to lay on your side and settling himself flush against your back. You gasped, feeling Peter’s hard cock poking against your hip. Peter wrapped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you back to stay put against him while his second hand guided his cock towards your entrance.

Peter’s dick nudged your tight hole and you shut your eyes tightly, listening to the immediate moan that ripped from Peter’s chest. You cursed, seriously considering to tell Peter to push all the way in as you felt his swollen tip dip into your entrance. Peter whined, pulling his dick out of you and you sighed disappointedly. Peter bit his lip so hard it almost bled, his thighs shaking in attempt not to push himself all the way in. He needed to abide by your rules if you were going to let this happen again. “Just the tip.” You mumbled absentmindedly, drool gathering in your mouth as you pushed your ass out for Peter to put it back in. Peter panted, trying to control himself as he put the tip back in your entrance, rocking slowly back and forth. “Just the tip.” Peter repeated, but quickly found himself losing control over his actions, and suddenly, he had half his dick inside you.

The both of you moaned in unison, and Peter brought a hand to the arch of your back, caressing your skin. He needed to take a moment or else he'd instantly be coming inside you. You reached a hand behind you, landing halfway on Peter’s cheek. Peter kissed your hand, pushing himself up to press kisses on your cheek and jaw. You whined in pleasure, rolling your hips back to take as much of Peter’s dick as possible. “Fuck, just put it in baby!” You cried, finally letting your put-together front crumble down. Peter chanted a string of ‘thank you’s, finally snapping his hips all the way in so his cock fully sheathed himself in your folds. Wrapping an arm over your hips, Peter shifted his weight to switch your positions, landing you laying on your stomach with him on top of you.

Whining, you pushed yourself on your knees, chest touching the mattress as Peter kneeled, gripping both your hips tightly before setting an unforgiving pace on your cunt. Your moans immediately increased, small sounds escaping you with each push of Peter’s cock closer to your cervix. Peter relentlessly whimpered, feeling his orgasm building up quickly, but he needed to make you cum. He needed to make you cum or you’d never let him fuck you ever again. Desperately, Peter snaked his fingers around your body, concentrating hard on finding your clit while keeping up the pace and brutality of his thrusts. You whined impatiently, your own hand finding Peter’s to guide him to your clit. When his fingers finally made contact with your clit, your toes were immediately curling, a high pitched moan escaping you. Peter squeezed his eyes shut, feeling your pussy clench around his dick. “Come on baby, cum for me.” He begged, rubbing harsh circles on your clit as his thrusts became sloppy. You couldn’t help your bodily reaction to how pathetic Peter sounded, your cunt clamping on his dick as you came, causing a string of curse words to leave Peter’s mouth as his own orgasm was triggered. “Shit, shit, shit.” He mumbled, whimpering softly as he emptied his loud into you, your sounds of ecstasy ringing in his ears.

Peter softly rocked his hips into yours, hoping to ride out your orgasm, but you whined at the overstimulation, and Peter knew it was time to pull out. You immediately slumped against the bed when Peter pulled out with a groan, sitting next to you to rub a hand over your back. You turned onto your back, looking up at Peter tiredly, and gesturing for him to get closer to you. With a hand on his jaw, you pulled him into another kiss, engrossed in the fact that this would be the last time you two had sex. “Last time Peter. Yeah?” Peter nodded, mumbling “I’m happy with that, yeah.”

But his words sounded so familiar you refused to believe them.

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faebled-stories · 2 months ago

Text

Wagering Emotions

Kinkvember Day 21: Free Use

GFriend/VIVIZ Eunha (Jung Eunbi) x Male reader

16.8k words

AN: Hi guys! Are you proud of me? This girlie is finally leaving the house for something besides school! 😅 I started this fic right after yesterdays since I knew I had limited time today. Even so It's a bit of a long one, so I hope you're comfy and enjoy! 💖

“Oh, God—harder! Yes, right there!” The sultry cry was followed by a series of sharp, breathless moans that reverberated off the thin apartment walls. “Ugh, you’re so deep in me—don’t stop!” The woman’s voice dripped with exaggerated pleasure, her words climbing louder with each gasp. The rhythmic creaks of a bed frame added to the cacophony, creating a soundscape that was impossible to ignore.

Eunha clenched her pillow over her ears, but it was no use. The noises seemed to seep through the fabric, crawling under her skin like a relentless itch. Each gasp and moan hit her with jarring sharpness, as if mocking her failed attempts at peace. The bedframe’s incessant squeaks provided a rhythm to the chaos, an unrelenting reminder of what was happening mere feet away. She sat rigid on her bed, her teeth gritted so tightly her jaw ached. Her heart pounded in her chest, not from embarrassment but from pure, boiling frustration.

The moans built higher and higher, peaking with a sharp, guttural scream. “Ohhh—yes!” The sound stretched out, lingering in the air as the bedframe gave one final, forceful creak before silence fell.

The stillness that followed should have been a reprieve, but it wasn’t. It only magnified the absurdity of the situation, the weight of her irritation pressing down on her chest. She let the pillow fall from her hands, her gaze fixed on the cracked ceiling as her breath came in uneven bursts. The faint scent of lavender from her diffuser drifted through the room, its calming intention now nothing but a cruel joke.

This was her sanctuary—her home. Or at least, it was supposed to be. Instead, it felt like she was the intruder, an unwelcome guest in her own space.

It wasn’t just the frequency of these escapades, though they had escalated to near-nightly rituals. It was the complete disregard—the audacity to treat their shared apartment like a personal playground, to push her patience to the breaking point without so much as an acknowledgment.

With a sharp inhale, Eunha swung her legs over the side of the bed, the cool wood flooring grounding her as her frustration surged. She shoved herself into her oversized hoodie, the fabric heavy against her skin, and stormed toward the hallway. Each step was deliberate, her bare feet making soft, muted thuds on the worn hardwood. The flickering bathroom light at the far end of the hall cast erratic shadows on the walls, making the narrow space feel both claustrophobic and foreboding. The air was heavy, thick with a lingering warmth that seemed to seep through the apartment from your room.

As she reached the hallway, the muffled murmur of voices caught her ear. A giggle—soft and self-satisfied—floated through the stillness, followed by the unmistakable sound of your door creaking open. Eunha froze, just for a moment, letting her anger sharpen as her gaze fixed on the corner where the hallway turned.

When you appeared, the sight of you leaning casually against the doorframe was almost enough to send her over the edge. The lazy smirk curling at your lips, the easy, unbothered confidence in your posture—it was infuriating. But it wasn’t just you. Draped against your arm, looking equally disheveled, was Umji— one of her closest friends.

Eunha’s breath caught in her throat as her gaze locked onto her. No. No way.

Umji’s hair was a tangled mess, loose strands clinging to her flushed cheeks. Her makeup was smudged, faint streaks of mascara trailing under her eyes, which darted away as soon as they met Eunha’s. A collection of red marks decorated her neck in uneven patterns, stark against her pale skin. Her lips, swollen and trembling slightly, glistened faintly as though they’d just come up for air. The hem of her mini-dress hung unevenly, the fabric wrinkled and askew as though hastily pulled back into place. Most noticeable, though, were her legs—wobbly, hesitant steps that made the sound of her heels on the hardwood uneven. She clutched your arm for support, her fingers curling into your sleeve like a lifeline.

“Hey!” Eunha’s voice sliced through the stillness, sharp and unyielding. The sound echoed down the hallway, and both you and Umji froze.

You turned slowly, clearly unhurried, the smirk on your face deepening as your gaze met Eunha’s. “Something on your mind, Eunha?” you asked, your voice a drawl of mockery. The lazy tone only fanned the flames of her irritation.

But Eunha barely registered you. Her focus was locked on Umji, who flinched under the weight of her glare. Her posture shifted awkwardly, her hands fluttering uselessly at the hem of her dress, as though she could somehow straighten out what had already been done. Her cheeks were flushed a deeper red now, her lips parting as if she wanted to speak, but no words came. Her gaze darted back to the floor.

Eunha’s fists tightened at her sides as she took a step closer, her pulse pounding in her ears. The hallway felt oppressively small now, the dim light casting jagged shadows across the walls and your smug face. The faint scent of Umji’s floral perfume lingered in the air, mingling with the unmistakable musk of sweat, creating a cloying atmosphere that made Eunha’s stomach churn.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Eunha finally said, her voice low and trembling with fury. Her words were directed at Umji, whose trembling hands fidgeted with the hem of her dress.

“Eunha, I—” Umji began, her voice cracking as she looked up, her tearful gaze locking with Eunha’s.

“You what?” Eunha snapped, taking another step closer. “You knew. You knew how much I’ve complained about him—how much he’s driven me insane. Hell, I spent hours venting to you, and you always agreed with me. Told me I was right to hate him. And now you’re just… this?”

“It’s not like that,” Umji said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her shoulders curled inward as though she were trying to make herself smaller. “I didn’t plan—”

“Didn’t plan it?” Eunha interrupted, her voice rising. “That’s all you’ve got? You didn’t plan to hook up with him? Do you realize how screwed up this is?” Her voice wavered, her anger laced with hurt that she couldn’t quite hide.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Umji pleaded, her lips trembling as fresh tears filled her eyes. “It was—it was stupid, okay? I made a mistake.”

Eunha let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “A mistake? That’s what this is to you? A mistake?” Her voice cracked as she gestured at the red marks on Umji’s neck, the uneven dress straps, the swollen lips that spoke of the hours Eunha had unwillingly endured through the walls. “You’ve seen how much he’s made my life hell, and now you’re just another name to add to his list.”

“I know I messed up,” Umji whispered, her tears spilling over now, streaking her smudged mascara further. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m sorry.”

Eunha shook her head, her chest heaving as she fought the wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. She turned her glare to you, standing there with that smug, satisfied smirk plastered across your face like this was all some kind of twisted joke. “And you,” she spat, her voice dripping with contempt. “You’re disgusting.”

You shrugged, your smile deepening as you raised your hands in mock innocence. “Hey, don’t blame me for what she wanted.”

The casualness of your response nearly made Eunha snap. Her nails dug into her palms, but she forced herself to take a deep breath, swallowing the venom that threatened to spill over.

“Unbelievable,” Eunha muttered, turning her attention back to Umji. Her voice dropped, quieter now but no less sharp, each word laced with the sting of betrayal. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

Umji opened her mouth, her lips trembling as though she wanted to explain, to apologize, but Eunha didn’t wait to hear it. She spun on her heel, her steps echoing sharply down the hallway as she stormed toward her room. The flickering light overhead illuminated the unshed tears brimming in her eyes, though the heat of her anger kept them from falling. The ache in her chest twisted deeper with every step, but she didn’t dare let it show.

At the threshold of her room, she paused, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the doorframe. She turned, her glare icy and unwavering as it locked onto you. Her voice was curt, sharp enough to cut through the suffocating tension. Enough was enough.

“Look, we need to talk. Now.”

You sighed, the sound heavy with reluctant amusement. “I’ll text you later, okay?” you said smoothly, glancing at Umji as though she wasn’t Eunha’s closest friend, but just another girl in a long string of conquests. Your words carried a deliberate nonchalance, almost as if you’d chosen them specifically to twist the knife deeper.

Umji hesitated, her nervous giggle betraying her unease as she glanced between the two of you. Her hands fluttered to smooth her rumpled dress, but the fabric clung stubbornly to her curves, refusing to cooperate. Her face was still flushed, her tears still wet, and she seemed to shrink under Eunha’s glare. With a small, almost inaudible “sorry,” she wobbled toward the door on unsteady legs, her heels clicking softly against the floor. The sound seemed to echo in the tense silence as the door clicked shut behind her.

The apartment fell into an oppressive quiet, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator. Your demeanor shifted slightly, the amused smirk on your lips fading into something more guarded. You leaned casually against the wall, crossing your arms over your chest as you regarded Eunha with a faintly raised eyebrow. “What’s this about?”

Eunha didn’t ease into it. Her voice, trembling with hurt and fury, spilled out before she could stop herself. “You know exactly what this is about. Maybe I could’ve lived with the random girls. Maybe I could’ve dealt with it. But Umji? My best friend? You knew who she was to me, and you still went ahead and—” She choked on the word, her hands trembling as she gestured toward the now-empty hallway. “You went ahead and made her just another body. Another notch on your bedpost. Do you even realize what you’ve done?”

Your expression didn’t change, but your gaze flickered, just for a moment, something unreadable passing across your face. “It’s not like I forced her into anything,” you replied, your tone calm, detached. “She wanted it. That’s on her, not me.”

Eunha stared at you, stunned into silence for a heartbeat before her anger reignited, hotter and sharper than before. “Are you serious right now? She wanted it? She’s my best friend! She’s not just some random girl you can screw and forget about. She’s—” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “She’s supposed to matter.”

“And what do you want me to do about it?” you asked, your voice maddeningly calm. “It happened. It’s done. Are you mad at me for having fun, or at her for making a choice?”

“Both!” Eunha shouted, her voice echoing through the apartment. “But you—you knew better. You knew exactly what this would do to me, and you did it anyway. Like you didn’t care. Like I don’t matter at all.”

Her chest heaved, her glare blazing with all the hurt she hadn’t yet put into words. Her hands shook as she tried to hold herself together, her nails digging into her palms.

“I’m sick of this,” Eunha snapped after a moment, her tone trembling with barely-contained anger. “Every night, it’s some random girl, and I have to hear everything. I live here too, you know.”

You shrugged, your tone light and dismissive. “Can’t help it if they get loud.”

Her jaw dropped, disbelief flashing across her face before anger surged in to replace it. “Oh, please,” she hissed, her cheeks flushing crimson. “Those moans? They’re all fake, and you know it. You’re not that good.”

The familiar smile crept back onto your face, a gleam of amusement dancing in your eyes. You leaned forward slightly, the air between you growing heavy. “Jealous, are we?”

Eunha stiffened, narrowing her eyes as the heat in her face climbed. “Jealous? Of those bimbos you bring home? Hardly.”

Your smirk widened as you took a half-step closer, closing the already narrowing space between you. “Sounds like jealousy to me. Otherwise, why would you care so much about what happens in my room?”

Eunha’s eyes blazed, “Because it’s my apartment too!” Her voice rose, conviction lacing every word. “I have the right to set some ground rules here. This is supposed to be a home, not a dating service. We need to set some ground rules.”

The tension between you hung thick in the air, almost tangible. The faint hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen seemed deafening in the charged silence that followed. Your gazes locked, a silent battle of wills playing out in the dimly lit hallway. This wasn’t just about noise anymore; it was about respect, boundaries, and the collision of two people whose lives were incompatible in ways neither was willing to admit.

“Ground rules, huh?” you said finally, your voice low, almost teasing. Your arms remained crossed, but the mischievous sparkle in your eyes returned. “Okay, I’ll bite. What do you suggest, then?”

Eunha hesitated, her frustration bubbling to the surface in an exasperated huff. “You can’t bring anyone home anymore.”

You blinked, clearly taken aback for a moment, before letting out a bark of laughter that echoed off the walls. “What? You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” Eunha replied, her tone firm, her arms crossed tightly in defiance.

You shook your head, the corners of your mouth twitching upward. “That’s not going to happen. I’m human; I have needs.”

“Then take them somewhere else, get a hotel room I don't care,” Eunha shot back, her voice steady but laced with challenge.

You tilted your head slightly, studying her with a curious intensity. The tension between you seemed to thrum louder, like a taut string about to snap. Slowly, a wicked grin spread across your face, your eyes lighting up with an idea.

“How about we make things interesting?” you said, your tone dripping with intrigue.

Eunha’s frown deepened, suspicion coloring her features. “How so?”

“A bet.”

“A bet?” she repeated, her tone steeped in skepticism. Her arms remained folded, her glare unwavering.

Your grin widened, a wicked gleam dancing in your eyes. “Yeah. Since you think they’re all faking it, how about this—we both go down on each other, and the first one to make the other cum wins.”

Eunha blinked, momentarily taken aback. The air in the hallway seemed to thicken, her breath hitching in her throat as the weight of your audacious proposition settled between you. “You’ve got to be joking,” she said, her voice steady but laced with disbelief.

You shrugged nonchalantly, the faint hum of the refrigerator in the background punctuating the charged silence. “You said I wasn’t that good. Prove it. If you win, I’ll stop bringing girls over entirely. But if I win…”

Eunha raised an eyebrow, her lips pressing into a thin line. “What’s in it for you?” Her voice carried a sharp edge, but there was a flicker of curiosity beneath it, almost imperceptible.

You leaned in slightly, the dim light from the overhead fixture casting a shadow across your face. Your voice dropped to a low, teasing tone, each word dripping with confidence. “You. Anytime, anyplace, for a week.”

Eunha’s breath caught, her pulse quickening as the sheer boldness of your words hit her. Heat crept up her neck, but it wasn’t just anger—it was the challenge, the audacity, the smugness in your tone that fanned the flames of her pride. There was no way you could win, not against her. She was hellbent on the fact that every moan that came out of your room was nothing but an act—girls faking it to stroke your ego because they didn’t know any better. Nothing about you screamed impressive..

“No way we are doing a week; that’s too long,” Eunha countered firmly, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance. Her heart raced, but she kept her tone steady.

You were unfazed, leaning back slightly with an exaggerated shrug, as though victory was already in your grasp. “Okay, what about over the course of a week? Three sessions of use with you, same as before, any time, any place.”

Eunha’s jaw tightened as she considered your alternative, the weight of your words settling like a dare she couldn’t refuse. The light buzz of adrenaline coursing through her veins made her palms feel clammy, but she straightened her spine, meeting your gaze with fire in her eyes. “Fine,” she said, her voice unwavering. “You’re on.”

Your grin widened, the corners of your mouth curling with triumph, as if you’d already won. “Let’s make some ground rules, then.”

The quiet apartment is suddenly alive with the undercurrent of challenge. The faint creak of the floorboards under your steps seemed louder in the silence. The terms were simple—no hands allowed, and the first one to cum would lose. It wasn’t just a game of skill, but of endurance, control, and unspoken stakes that neither of you fully acknowledged.

As the final terms were set, you led Eunha to your room—a space she’d passed by countless times, now feeling alien and charged with a dangerous intimacy. The air hit her first, thick with the unmistakable scent of musk and lingering arousal. The faint trace of Umji’s floral perfume mingled with something far more primal, twisting in Eunha’s stomach like a knot. Her throat tightened. She couldn’t ignore it—the room still carried her best friend’s presence, an unwelcome ghost that clung to the atmosphere and prickled at Eunha’s skin.

She steeled herself, pushing aside the pang of discomfort. She wasn’t here to wallow or falter. She was here to win. Today, this was her game.

The door clicked shut behind, and the sound echoed like a gunshot in the still room. You wasted no time, your movements deliberate as you peeled off your shirt with casual confidence, the dim light from the bedside lamp casting sharp shadows across your skin. Anticipation danced in your dark eyes, glinting with amusement as they traced her figure.

Eunha swallowed hard, a swell of nerves rising in her chest as she met your gaze. But she refused to falter. She reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head with a decisive motion, baring herself piece by piece until she stood completely exposed before you—naked and unflinching. The cool air of the room kissed her skin, raising goosebumps that she refused to acknowledge. Her chin tilted up defiantly, her resolve unshaken.

With a playful glint in your eyes, you gestured toward the bed, your lips curling into a smirk. “Ladies first?” you quipped, your voice dripping with amusement.

Eunha shot you a fierce glare, her jaw tightening as she fought the urge to fire back with something sharper. Instead, she climbed onto the bed, her movements purposeful and precise. But the moment her knees hit the mattress, a wave of discomfort washed over her. The dampness beneath her palms was unmistakable, the sheets faintly musky from Umji’s earlier release. A surge of anger flared in her chest, tightening her throat. Her best friend’s ghost clung to this space—this bed—turning what should have been just another challenge into something deeply personal.

You followed her onto the bed, your movements deliberate and unhurried, as if you had all the time in the world. You reached out, hands brushing against her hips as you guided her to straddle you. Her legs trembled slightly as she adjusted, the heat of your hands sending a jolt through her body that she stubbornly ignored. You leaned back, your smirk deepening as you settled into the mattress, entirely at ease. The flicker of amusement in your eyes burned against Eunha’s pride, daring her to falter, daring her to lose.

Her breath quickened, her pulse hammering in her ears as she hovered over you. The room seemed to shrink, the space between your bodies charged with a tension that felt almost electric. The scent of musk, sweat, and lingering arousal swirled around them, thick and inescapable, amplifying the intimacy of the moment.

For the first time, as her gaze flickered downward, she noticed something she’d never truly paid attention to before—your length, larger than she had cared to admit. The sheer size of you made her stomach flip, a wave of heat rushing through her so suddenly that it took her breath away. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, as if to stave off the reaction, but the faint ache building within her betrayed her efforts.

Her eyes lingered for a moment too long, tracing the prominent veins and the way you moved with an air of ease that only added to the magnetic pull you exuded. The sight was overwhelming, a reminder of your control, and it sent her mind spinning with thoughts she wasn’t ready to face.

A faint flush crept up her neck, her skin burning with a mixture of embarrassment and something she couldn’t quite name. She swallowed hard, forcing her expression to remain neutral as she tore her gaze away, her heart pounding in her chest. Determination flickered in her eyes as she tried to bury the reaction deep inside her, willing herself to focus on anything else.

This wasn’t about distractions or nerves; this was about her pride. Her chance to make you crumble as so many others before you had. She wasn’t just playing your game; she was going to win it.

As she leaned closer, the warmth of your skin radiated against hers, the proximity amplifying every sensation. The mattress shifted beneath you both, the springs groaning softly as the challenge truly began.

She began her assault slowly, her tongue tracing along your length, savoring the way you twitched beneath her touch. A smirk curled her lips as she realized you were already responding—a thrill of satisfaction coursed through her. He’s already losing, she thought, emboldened by the spark of confidence igniting within her.

Yet, the tables turned as your hands gripped her hips, pulling her down toward your waiting mouth with a deliberate, unyielding strength. The unexpected forwardness startled her, and she couldn’t help but gasp. Your tongue found her folds, teasingly exploring her with excruciating slowness. The touch sent shivers radiating through her core, making her body tense involuntarily.

Stay focused, she reminded herself, though the heat building inside her made it harder to concentrate. She picked up her pace, taking you deeper into her mouth, swirling her tongue with precision. Each low groan that escaped your lips reverberated through her, sending jolts of satisfaction surging through her. She poured every ounce of her determination into conditioning your reactions, her confidence surging with every twitch, every shallow breath you took.

She sensed her victory was close—your breath quickened, and she could feel you throbbing against her tongue. A few more moments, and she’d have you. She could almost taste the win.

But then, without warning, you shifted, your tongue pressing against a hidden, sensitive spot deep within her. The sudden, sharp jolt of pleasure ripped through her, a sensation so intense it stole her breath. A startled gasp escaped her lips before she could stifle it. And then you followed it up, your mouth latching onto her clit, sucking and teasing with just enough pressure to send her spiraling further into a haze of pleasure. Each flick of your tongue and gentle graze of your teeth seemed designed to dismantle her resolve, targeting every weakness she didn’t know she had.

Her body trembled, betraying her will as waves of ecstasy built within her, each one cresting higher than the last. She struggled to focus, to push forward and finish what she started, but it was no use. You were relentless, and her body was betraying her. Every stroke of your tongue felt impossibly perfect, a symphony of sensations that left her teetering on the edge.

And then it hit her.

The orgasm crashed over her like a thunderclap, a shockwave of pleasure so sudden and intense it left her reeling. It wasn’t just unexpected—it was overwhelming. Her breath hitched, a strangled moan escaping her lips as her entire body bowed against her will. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt, a climax so raw and consuming it rivaled her best and obliterated any sense of control she thought she had. Her thighs clamped reflexively around your head, trembling with the force of the pleasure wracking her body. She couldn’t stop herself—the sensation was too much, too all-encompassing to resist.

As the waves of ecstasy reached their peak, you thrust slightly deeper into her mouth, her lips stretched around you as she choked softly on your length. The sensation of being taken so completely sent a fresh jolt of pleasure surging through her, intensifying her climax beyond what she thought was possible. Her body shuddered violently, her muscles tightening as her cries became muffled, the act heightening the overwhelming rush of release.

Every nerve in her body felt electrified, every inch of her skin hypersensitive to the slightest touch. Her heartbeat pounded furiously in her chest, each thrum echoing like a drumbeat in the heavy silence of the room. The way you filled her, the weight of your presence pressing her further into surrender, only amplified the depth of her response, dragging her into a state of pure, unrelenting bliss.

The waves of pleasure seemed endless, each pulse pulling her deeper into the abyss. Her mind blurred, the edges of thought dissolving into a haze of sensation that left her powerless, her breaths coming in shallow, desperate gasps. Time stretched and warped, the peak of ecstasy feeling like an eternity as it consumed her completely.

When the tremors finally subsided, she collapsed against the mattress, her body limp and her mind clouded with disbelief. Her chest heaved with each ragged breath, her limbs heavy as if weighed down by the aftershocks of her release. The room felt distant, blurred by the haze of ecstasy still humming through her body.

Her lips remained around you, the weight of you resting on her tongue unnoticed at first as her mind buzzed with the intensity of what she had just experienced. Slowly, instinctively, her tongue began to move, tracing along your length in lazy, absent circles. It was almost reflexive, her body responding without thought, as if it craved the connection even as her mind struggled to process the reality of it all.

For a moment, she was lost in the act, her senses dulled and her body still pulsing with residual pleasure. But as clarity returned, the realization struck her like a cold wave. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson as her senses snapped back into focus, and she quickly pulled back, her lips parting as she released you.

Her heart pounded as she shifted away, her hands trembling as she tried to gather herself. How could this have happened? The thought lingered, sharp and insistent, as she struggled to reconcile the overwhelming pleasure with the reality that it had been your tongue—and her own instincts—that unraveled her so completely.

Eunha’s frustration boiled as you chuckled beneath her, your low, smug laughter sending waves of embarrassment coursing through her. Pulling back, you rose to a sitting position, your dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Looks like I won,” you said, your voice dripping with self-assured confidence.

A mix of humiliation and indignation simmered in her chest. “No! You… you cheated!” she blurted, scrambling off you in a frantic attempt to reclaim some semblance of dignity. Her movements were hurried and awkward, betraying her flustered state as she tugged at the rumpled sheets to cover herself.

You arched an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curling into a smirk that only deepened her frustration. “Cheated?” you repeated, your tone light, teasing. “Sounds like a sore loser to me.”

Eunha’s jaw tightened as she glared at you, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “You… did something! I don’t know what, but there’s no way! That wasn’t—it doesn’t count!” Her voice wavered as she scrambled for excuses, her mind racing to rewrite what had just happened. “I didn’t even cum—so you didn’t win,” she mumbled, her words tumbling out in a desperate attempt to shift the narrative, even as her own body betrayed her.

Your smirk widened, and you leaned forward, the playful glint in your eyes sparking a fresh wave of heat in her cheeks. “Didn’t cum, huh?” you asked, your voice low and taunting, the kind of tone that made her heart pound in equal parts irritation and something else she refused to name.

Before she could retort, you moved swiftly. Your fingers brushed against her slick folds, gathering the unmistakable evidence of her release. She gasped, her breath catching in her throat as her body jolted at the unexpected touch. You brought your fingers to your lips, savoring the taste with a deliberate, slow flick of your tongue.

Then, closing the distance between you, you captured her lips in a searing kiss, your hands firm against her waist. The taste of herself lingered on your lips, undeniable proof of what had just transpired. “Doesn’t it taste just like cum?” you teased, your words a whispered challenge against her lips.

Eunha froze, her mind spinning as the truth crashed down on her. The heat of your mouth, the unmistakable taste, the trembling in her thighs—there was no denying it. She had climaxed, and you had won.

But she wasn’t ready to admit it.

“That doesn’t mean anything!” she snapped, her voice sharp, though it wavered slightly at the edges. She pulled back, her hands trembling as she gestured wildly, trying to regain control of the situation. “You… you probably did something weird—something dirty! I wasn’t even ready! It’s not fair!” Her excuses came out in a rush, desperate and unconvincing even to her own ears.

Your chuckle deepened, rich and mocking, as you watched her unravel. “Face it, Eunha,” you said, your tone dripping with amusement. “I won, fair and square.”

Without any more options, she stumbled to her feet, her movements hurried and frantic as she reached for her discarded clothes. “Whatever,” she muttered, her voice thick with humiliation as she avoided your gaze. “This was a stupid bet anyway.”

But before she could make her escape, a sharp smack echoed through the room as your hand connected playfully with her rear. The stinging heat made her yelp, and she spun around, glaring at you with wide, furious eyes. Her face burned crimson, the mixture of anger and lingering embarrassment practically radiating off her.

“Deal’s a deal,” you said, your voice low and teasing, the grin on your face infuriatingly smug. “I’ll be collecting my prize soon.”

Eunha’s heart pounded, your words settling deep in her chest and sending a strange, unsettling mix of dread and anticipation coursing through her. She couldn’t bring herself to respond, her mouth opening and closing uselessly as she scrambled for a comeback that refused to come.

Without another word, she stormed out of the room, her footsteps echoing sharply down the hallway. The slam of her door reverberated through the apartment, a sharp punctuation to the moment. Alone in her room, Eunha pressed her back against the door, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as her emotions swirled in chaotic waves—anger, embarrassment, and something she refused to name.

-----

The next day, the morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Eunha's room, casting delicate golden patterns that danced across the floorboards like restless shadows. The warmth of daylight touched her skin, but it did little to temper the knot of discomfort and anticipation twisting in her stomach. She lay face down on her bed, her laptop propped in front of her, fingers hovering over the keyboard. She typed half-heartedly, forcing herself to focus on the screen. Yet, the weight of your presence in the room made it impossible.

Your quiet breathing behind her felt louder than it should, filling the air with a tension she couldn’t escape. She bit her lip, her body prickling with awareness against her will. This was her sanctuary, her room. A place where she was supposed to feel safe and in control. Yet now, under your gaze, it felt different. Oppressive. Confusing. The line between intrusion and something else entirely blurred in ways she wasn’t ready to face.

“Ready for your first session?” Your voice, low and deliberate, broke through the quiet. The words cut through her thoughts, making her body tense instinctively. She froze, her breath catching, unsure whether it was defiance or dread keeping her silent.

The bed dipped under your weight, and suddenly, you were there, behind her. She stiffened as your hands brushed over her hips, slipping beneath the hem of her shirt. The soft rustle of fabric was deafening in the quiet room.

She wanted to protest, to tell you she wasn’t enjoying this, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, her breath hitched as your fingers trailed lightly over the curve of her back. Your touch sent tingles racing across her skin, her body responding even as her mind recoiled. It wasn’t fair. She hated how her body betrayed her, how it melted under your hands like it had been waiting for this.

You started slowly, your lips brushing featherlight kisses along her shoulders. She clenched her fists, burying her face into the pillow as you worked your way lower. Each kiss left a trail of heat in its wake, your mouth moving with maddening patience down the length of her back. When your teeth grazed her skin, she let out a muffled gasp, her body jerking slightly before settling back into place.

Eunha squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the sensations overwhelming her. I can't believe this is happening, she thought desperately, her cheeks burning as your lips pressed against the small of her back. She wanted to hate it, hate you, but the way her body responded made it impossible to ignore. Each touch, each teasing bite, only deepened the confusion swirling inside her.

When your lips brushed against the curve of her plump cheeks, she trembled. Her skin tingled as you lingered, planting slow, deliberate kisses before giving a playful nip that sent a jolt through her. She buried her face deeper into the pillow, her breath ragged, her resolve crumbling.

“You’re already reacting so much,” you teased, your voice soft but smug. “I haven’t even touched you.”

Her heart raced at your words, embarrassment and arousal mingling in a way that made her stomach twist. She hated how much she wanted you to keep going, how her body leaned into your touch even as her mind screamed at her to pull away.

Your hands slid down her thighs, coaxing them apart as your fingers finally brushed over her folds. She gasped, the heat pooling in her core undeniable. Why does this feel so good? she thought, biting her lip as you teased her, never quite giving her what she wanted.

“Look at you,” you murmured, your tone laced with amusement. “Soaking through your sheets, just like your friend.”

Her body trembled as your fingers continued their slow, agonizing exploration. Her breath hitched when you finally slid her shorts down, exposing her fully. She felt vulnerable, raw, and yet… exhilarated.

You gripped her hips, lifting them slightly so her chest remained pressed to the bed. Her back arched naturally, and her cheeks flushed with heat as you adjusted her position, leaving her most sensitive areas exposed. The vulnerability made her heart race, her breath catching in her throat as she felt your presence so close behind her.

Your hands moved deliberately, spreading her cheeks wide. The cool air of the room kissed her exposed skin, making her shiver as the contrast of warmth and chill heightened her awareness. Her breath hitched when she felt the faintest, deliberate puff of air against her sex. The sensation sent a jolt through her, her body clenching instinctively as a soft whimper escaped her lips. Her folds quivered under the sensation, and even the tight ring behind them pulsed faintly in response, betraying her heightened sensitivity.

You chuckled softly, watching as her body reacted under your control. “So sensitive,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing. The way her body responded to even the gentlest stimulation was intoxicating. Leaning closer, you let your breath wash over her again, this time more deliberate, the warm puff grazing her slick skin.

The tremble of her folds deepened, her body betraying her completely as the light air teased her again. Her tight ring pulsated under your gaze, the reaction mesmerizing as you held her there, savoring every flicker of her submission. You’re so sexy,” you said softly, your tone filled with admiration. “Your body loves every second of this.”

She whimpered again, burying her face into the mattress as the sensations overwhelmed her. The deliberate teasing left her trembling, her body attuned to every movement, every breath. You watched her, enthralled by the way she surrendered to the moment, her reactions igniting a fire that neither of you could resist.

When your tongue flicked out, finally meeting her folds, she let out a muffled cry, the pillow swallowing her voice. The first touch stole what little resolve she had left, her hips jerking slightly before your firm grip steadied her in place. The heat of your mouth and the coolness lingering from the air created a dizzying contrast that left her gasping.

As your tongue delved deeper, teasing her sensitive nub, her entire body jolted with the intensity of the sensation. You alternated between soft, teasing licks and firm strokes, your hands gripping her hips tightly to keep her exactly where you wanted her. Her legs trembled, her mind a whirlwind of contradictions—she hated this, hated how you were making her feel, and yet, she couldn’t get enough.

“You like this, don’t you?” you murmured between strokes, your breath warm against her slick skin. “You don’t want to admit it, but your body’s already told me everything I need to know.”

Eunha whimpered, her chest pressing harder into the mattress as she fought against the overwhelming sensations. The way you spoke, the confidence in your voice, sent shivers racing down her spine. She hated that you were right. No matter how much her mind resisted, her body had already surrendered completely.

The safety of her room, once her refuge, now felt foreign. The air was heavy, charged with arousal that clung to every surface. She couldn’t escape it—the pull of her own body responding to you, the way her most vulnerable self was laid bare for your enjoyment. It was maddening. It was exhilarating. And she couldn’t stop it.

Then, to her surprise, you added a finger. The digit entered with no resistance, sliding into her warmth effortlessly as her slickness coated you. When you curled it just right, a sharp cry tore from her lips, muffled by the pillow beneath her. Her body tightened around you, a jolt of pleasure surging through her as her hips rocked back instinctively.

The combination of your tongue, tracing deliberate strokes over her sensitive nub, and the rhythmic motion of your finger inside her sent her spiraling. Her mind became a haze, her thoughts scattering as the sensations grew overwhelming. The tension in her core tightened with every flick, every stroke, building to a crescendo she couldn’t escape.

Her body arched off the bed as the climax hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her with a force that made her gasp and scream into the pillow. The sound was raw, filled with a mix of ecstasy and disbelief. Warm liquid hit your tongue as her release washed over her, her body responding with an intensity she hadn’t anticipated. It was as if her body moved entirely on its own, separate from her mind, completely out of her control.

Her legs shook violently, her thighs trembling against your face as you held her steady. Every nerve in her body felt electrified, the waves of pleasure rolling through her like an unstoppable tide. Her hands clutched at the sheets beneath her, twisting them until the once perfectly made bed was a disheveled mess. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as the aftershocks left her weak and trembling.

As her body began to calm, her mind reeled from the intensity of it all. She had never experienced anything so raw, so all-consuming. It felt like her body wasn’t even hers anymore, like it had betrayed her completely. The humiliation of that realization mixed with the undeniable satisfaction thrumming through her veins, creating a cocktail of emotions that left her dizzy.

You pulled back slowly, savoring the sight of her undone beneath you. Your lips brushed one last kiss against her inner thigh, a soft, deliberate reminder of the control you held over her. “One down,” you murmured, your voice low and dripping with satisfaction.

Eunha collapsed fully against the bed, her body melting into the mattress as her limbs refused to move. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her skin flushed and slick with sweat. She buried her face into the pillow, her mind scrambling to process what had just happened. Shame flickered in the back of her thoughts, but it was drowned out by the lingering heat of her arousal.

She hated herself for how much she’d wanted it, for how completely she had surrendered to you. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t push away the memory of your touch. The echo of your lips, your fingers, and the way her body had responded to you replayed in her mind like a vivid dream she couldn’t shake.

Even as she lay there, trembling and spent, a part of her was terrified by how much she craved more. She wasn’t fully yours yet—but the seed had been planted. And deep down, she knew that resisting you would only get harder from here.

-----

“Don’t worry, Mom, I’m fine,” Eunha said softly, her voice light but tinged with just enough warmth to reassure her mother. She leaned back against the couch, the phone pressed firmly to her ear. Her mother’s concern was a comforting constant, a tether to the normalcy Eunha was trying desperately to cling to.

“Are you sure? You’ve sounded tired lately,” her mother said, the familiar tone of worry pulling a faint smile from Eunha despite the storm brewing within her.

“I’m just busy, that’s all. Nothing to worry about,” she replied, her words practiced, as if they could steady her own wavering thoughts.

Her mother’s warm laugh filtered through the line, wrapping around her like a blanket. “You always say that. Don’t forget to take care of yourself, okay?”

“I won’t, I promise,” Eunha said, her chest tightening at the kindness in her mother’s voice. She focused on the conversation, trying to lose herself in its comfort, but the weight of your presence was impossible to ignore.

You were there, lounging beside her on the couch, your energy filling the room like a storm cloud. When her gaze flicked to you, her heart stuttered. The lazy grin on your lips, the mischievous sparkle in your eyes—it was enough to send a rush of heat coursing through her. She swallowed hard, her voice catching slightly as her mother spoke again.

“Have you been eating properly? You tend to forget when you get busy,” her mother said, concern softening her words.

“I’m eating just fine,” Eunha replied quickly, her tone betraying the distraction tugging at her. She gripped the phone tighter, forcing herself to focus on her mother’s voice even as your hand brushed lightly against her thigh.

Her body jolted at the touch, her breath hitching, though she tried to disguise it with a soft laugh. “Really, Mom, everything’s fine,” she said, the words feeling hollow as her pulse raced.

Her heart skipped a beat as your hand moved up her thigh, warm and commanding. Your fingers traced slow, deliberate circles over her skin, igniting a storm of sensations that made it nearly impossible for her to focus on her mother’s words. The phone trembled slightly in her hand as you leaned closer, your breath ghosting against her ear. “Ready for round two?” you murmured, your voice low and teasing.

Before she could process the words, you acted. With a swift, practiced motion, you pulled her into your lap, your hands firm yet gentle as they guided her into place. Her breath hitched as her body pressed against yours, her mind spinning from the sheer audacity of it all. The world outside—her mother’s voice on the line, the faint hum of the city beyond the window—faded into a muted blur as you moved with ease.

The hem of her shirt lifted in your hands, your fingers brushing her bare skin as you removed it with an insouciance that sent shivers through her. Her cheeks burned as the air touched her exposed skin, but her body betrayed her resolve.

A breathy moan escaped her lips when you shifted below her, the sound of your movements mixing with her moms voice. Her breath hitched as you reached down, slipping your hand beneath the waistband of your shorts. Her body tensed, her head turning slightly as if she wanted to see, but she stopped herself, the anticipation overwhelming. The moment was thick with tension as you freed your length, the weight and heat of it brushing against her skin briefly, sending a shiver racing up her spine.

Eunha swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as the reality of what was about to happen set in. For the first time, she realized just how much she had underestimated you. Her mind raced, but her body stayed still, her breath shallow and uneven as you positioned yourself beneath her. The weight of your hands on her hips steadied her, though the heat radiating between you only heightened her anticipation.

She hovered above you, her entrance brushing against the head of your length, and a sharp intake of breath escaped her lips. The first press of you against her made her thighs tremble slightly, the stretch unfamiliar yet electrifying. Slowly, you guided her downward, the head of your length pushing into her with deliberate, measured pressure.

Her walls tightened instinctively, gripping you as her body adjusted to your size. A gasp broke free from her lips, her head tilting back as the sensation overwhelmed her. Inch by inch, you filled her, the stretch igniting her nerves as her body accommodated the fullness. It wasn’t just the physicality—it was the sheer intensity of the moment, the raw connection that sent her senses spiraling.

Eunha bit down on her lower lip, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh in a desperate attempt to stifle the sounds rising in her throat. The effort was futile. Each movement sent a wave of pleasure radiating through her, the heat pooling in her core intensifying with every passing second. Her breath hitched as you bottomed out, the depth leaving her trembling in your lap.

You paused, letting her adjust, your hands firm on her hips as you held her steady. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, her body caught between the sharp stretch and the intoxicating pleasure. Her nails dug lightly into your shoulders, a wordless reaction to the overwhelming sensation of being completely taken.

Her mother’s voice on the other end of the phone became a distant murmur, a faint and meaningless thread lost in the overwhelming symphony of sensations coursing through her body.

Each deep, measured thrust sent shockwaves rippling through her, igniting every nerve as though you’d found a secret, untouched place within her. Your hips snapped upward with precision, each motion deliberate and unhurried, as though you were savoring every reaction. At the same time, your hands pulled her down, controlling her movements to ensure that every thrust hit its mark, driving her closer to the edge. The friction was intoxicating, the way her body yielded to yours making her thighs tremble as the pleasure intensified.

Her breath hitched as you shifted your focus, your lips trailing over the curve of her neck before descending to her chest. Your tongue traced a path over her skin before taking one of her breasts into your mouth, your tongue flicking expertly over her hardened nipple. Her free hand flew to her mouth, muffling the moan that threatened to escape as waves of pleasure surged through her. The warmth of your mouth and the deliberate pace of your movements ignited a fire that spread through her like molten lava, leaving no part of her untouched.

Her thighs quivered as she fought to stay silent, her nails digging into your shoulders as if clinging to the last thread of her composure. But it was a losing battle. Each thrust, each flick of your tongue, and every teasing bite pushed her further into a realm of bliss that shattered her carefully constructed facade. The conversation with her mother became meaningless—a forgotten backdrop to the intensity of what was happening between you.

You pressed deeper, your movements deliberate, each one unraveling her defenses layer by layer. Her breath hitched as you shifted slightly, your fingers tightening on her hips. Her mind swam in a haze of pleasure as you grazed your teeth lightly against the sensitive bud. The sharpness of the sensation sent a shockwave through her, her entire body jerking against you.

And then you slipped a finger into her tight ring, the unexpected intrusion sending her over the edge. Her back arched violently, her head tilting back as her body trembled uncontrollably. The combination of sensations—the fullness of your length inside her, the teasing graze of your teeth, and the pressure of your finger—coalesced into an overwhelming wave of pleasure that consumed her completely.

The crescendo hit her like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from her lungs as her orgasm crashed over her with ferocious intensity. Her thighs clamped tightly around your hips as the pleasure tore through her, her moans growing louder despite her efforts to hold them back. In a panic, she fumbled to mute the call with her mother, but the moment she did, a loud scream burst from her lips, unrestrained and raw.

Her body quivered against you, every muscle tensing and relaxing in rhythm with the pulsating pleasure coursing through her. Her nails raked down your back, leaving trails of fire in their wake as she rode the waves of her climax. Her forehead pressed against your shoulder, her gasps ragged and desperate as the aftershocks rippled through her.

And then she felt it.

The warmth bloomed deep inside her as you finished, your release spilling into her in long, deliberate pulses. The sensation sent a fresh jolt through her already trembling body, her walls clenching around you involuntarily as if to hold you in place. The heat filled her completely, leaving her both stunned and overwhelmed. Her mind reeled, trying to process the depth of the intimacy while her body betrayed her, savoring the connection.

As her breathing slowed, her thoughts darkened. Images of the countless one-night stands you had brought home flashed through her mind—the strangers whose laughter and moans had echoed through these walls, the women she had heard but never seen. Now, she was one of them. Claimed, used, another conquest to add to your list.

Her chest tightened at the thought, but her body still hummed with the remnants of pleasure, betraying the conflict swirling within her. She couldn’t deny how incredible it had felt, how consuming and raw the experience was. But the realization of what she had become—just one of the many—sent a pang of shame through her, mixed with an undeniable longing for more.

For a moment, the world dissolved into nothing but sensation. Her body was a trembling, overwhelmed mess in your grasp, and all she could feel was the heat of your skin, the pressure of your hands holding her, and the lingering pleasure that left her utterly spent. The room was thick with the scent of sweat and sex, a visceral reminder of the line she had crossed.

“Two down,” you murmured against her neck, your voice low and teasing, each word sending another shiver down her spine. The words hung in the air, heavy and electric, as you pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. The intensity in your eyes made her heart race all over again, her body igniting anew despite the exhaustion flooding her limbs.

Her hands shook as she scrambled to end the call, stammering a breathless goodbye to her mother before collapsing against you. Her cheek rested against your chest, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as her mind spun with disbelief.

How had she allowed herself to get here? How had she unraveled so completely, lost so thoroughly in sensations she had once sworn she could resist? Yet, even as she wrestled with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her, a part of her couldn’t deny the truth. Deep down, beneath the lingering embarrassment and self-reproach, there was a flicker of anticipation.

She wanted more.

-----

After two consecutive days of passion and intensity, the abrupt break that followed was a mixed blessing for Eunha. On one hand, her body welcomed the respite—the soreness in her thighs and the dull ache in her hips lingered like an intimate reminder of the fervent connection you shared. On the other hand, the absence of scheduled sessions left her restless. Her mind became a storm, every stray thought spiraling back to you.

Each moment apart felt like an eternity. Her memories replayed like a fevered dream—the way your hands had explored her body with unerring precision, the intoxicating sound of your voice murmuring against her skin, the way you pulled her under your spell with every electrifying touch. She couldn’t escape the lingering echoes of your presence, the phantom feeling of your fingers tracing her curves. The ache of longing bloomed inside her chest, a dull, throbbing need that refused to be ignored.

She hated how much she craved you. Her body, once entirely her own, now seemed attuned to the thought of you, as though it anticipated your every move. Her breath would hitch at the memory of your thrusts, stirring a deep, primal hunger that sent shivers through her spine when she let her mind linger too long. How did it come to this? She couldn’t decide whether it was desire or dependency, but whatever it was, it consumed her.

As the days stretched on, the tension between you became almost unbearable. Eunha caught herself stealing glances at you in the shared spaces of your lives. You moved with infuriating ease, your calm confidence a stark contrast to the chaos roiling inside her. Every fleeting look you gave her, every shared smile or casual brush of your hand against hers, felt like a spark threatening to ignite the tightly coiled tension between you. Her pulse would quicken whenever your eyes met, her breath catching as the air thickened with an unspoken promise.

And yet, you kept your distance. Aloof but ever-present, your quiet self-assurance was a maddening reminder of her own unraveling. Each encounter left her nerves frayed, her thoughts tangled in a web of anticipation and longing.

In the quiet hours, Eunha’s thoughts betrayed her. She would sip her morning coffee and imagine your lips brushing hers, your hands gripping her waist. She would read under the warm glow of sunlight, only to find herself yearning for the warmth of your body pressed against hers. The ache of your absence seeped into her dreams, your touch haunting her even there. When she thought of the inevitable final session, her heart would race, her mind spinning with fantasies of how it might feel. The thought was intoxicating—and utterly crushing in its reminder of the emptiness that filled the spaces between your meetings.

Finally, on the last day of the week, Eunha sat at her desk, her laptop glowing faintly in the dimly lit room. The document on the screen was an empty void, the blinking cursor a silent accusation. She stared at it, fingers hovering over the keyboard, willing herself to type something—anything—but her mind was a chaotic swirl, and the still-blank page spoke volumes. No words came. No work was done.

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, anticipation coiling tight in her stomach. She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to know you were there. Your presence was magnetic, filling the air with a weight that pressed against her like a physical force. The faint rhythm of your footsteps approached, each step resonating like a heartbeat in the otherwise silent room.

The air grew charged, humming with unspoken words and unresolved tension. It was an invisible thread connecting the two of you, tightening with each passing moment. Eunha’s fingers twitched over the keyboard, a futile attempt to pretend she hadn’t already surrendered to the moment before it even began.

You came up behind her without a word, your hands sliding over her shoulders with deliberate ease. The heat of your touch sent a ripple through her, her body responding instantly. Her breath hitched as a shiver raced down her spine, her concentration on the empty screen obliterated in an instant.

Your fingers kneaded her tense muscles with just enough pressure to make her melt against the chair. Each movement was slow, confident, deliberate. She could feel the warmth of your body close to hers, the faint scent of your cologne mingling with the sterile hum of the office air. For a brief moment, she closed her eyes, torn between surrender and resistance, her thoughts spinning as she tried to reconcile the electric pull of your presence.

“It’s time for the last session,” you whispered, your breath warm against the shell of her ear. Your voice was low, rich, each word wrapping around her like a caress. The syllables lingered, thick with promise and urgency, igniting a spark deep within her.

Her body tensed under your touch, caught between the intoxicating pull of your words and the anticipation coursing through her veins. She turned her head slightly, her lips parting as if to speak, but the words died in her throat. The moment hung suspended, taut and electric, as though the air itself awaited her next move.

Before Eunha could find her voice, you effortlessly pulled her up from her chair. Her laptop screen dimmed, forgotten, as you turned her toward the desk in one fluid motion. Her breath hitched as you bent her over the cool surface, the sensation of the hard edge pressing against her chest grounding and thrilling all at once. She gasped softly when your hands slid down her sides, warm and deliberate, moving with practiced ease.

You worked methodically, your fingers grazing her skin as you peeled away her clothes. Each layer fell away like petals from a flower, leaving her bare and vulnerable under your touch. The chill of the air kissed her exposed skin, sending goosebumps rippling across her body, and the heat of your hands against her only deepened the contrast. She gripped the edge of the desk, her fingers curling tightly around it as anticipation built in her chest.

Her skin tingled with anticipation, every nerve alive and sensitive as you positioned yourself behind her. This dance, though familiar, felt new each time—each touch, each shared breath igniting a fire that burned brighter than the last. The air between you was thick, charged with the tension of the moment, and the faint scrape of fabric as you removed the last barrier between you only heightened the anticipation.

Your hands gripped her hips firmly, steadying her as you align yourself with her entrance. The heat of your length brushed against her folds, eliciting a sharp inhale as her body quivered beneath you. But instead of easing inside, you teased her—grazing her entrance with just the tip, almost like a kiss.

Her breath came in uneven gasps, her fingers curling tightly against the edge of the desk. Each deliberate nudge, each tantalizing brush of your head against her, sent jolts of pleasure through her, teasing her already heightened senses. Her body reacted instinctively, her hips rolling back in an effort to meet you, seeking the fullness you held just out of reach. But just as she pushed against you, you pulled away, your teasing smirk audible in the low chuckle that escaped your lips.

Her thighs trembled, her body caught in the maddening limbo between anticipation and relief. You continued the game, pressing just enough to stretch her slightly, letting her feel the promise of you, before retreating again. The sound of her labored breathing filled the room, punctuated by the soft creak of the desk beneath her. The tension built like a coiled spring, her body humming with need, every nerve screaming for release.

Finally, you gripped her hips tighter and pressed forward, the slow, deliberate stretch as you entered her drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. Her back arched instinctively as she adjusted to your size, her fingers digging into the desk for support. The moment was raw and electric, her body trembling as the fullness consumed her.

As you began to move, you shifted your grip, one hand trailing down to deliver a sharp, stinging slap to her bare cheek. The sound cracked through the air, followed by a jolt of heat that made her gasp. Her body tensed under your touch, a mix of surprise and exhilaration coursing through her. Another slap followed, the sting sending ripples of pleasure racing through her as she clenched around you.

“You like that,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing as you rubbed the reddened skin, soothing it before delivering another sharp smack. Each impact sent her higher, her body responding to every combination of pain and pleasure as you set a rhythm that left her breathless.

Your thrusts grew deeper, more deliberate, each movement precise and commanding as you drove her closer to the edge. The heat of your body pressed against her, the cool surface of the desk beneath her, and the lingering sting of your spanks combined to heighten her senses, leaving her utterly at your mercy. Her hips rocked back to meet your thrusts now, her movements instinctive and desperate, as though her body had been made to follow your lead.

Eunha clung to the desk, her breath coming in shallow gasps as her mind spiraled into the haze of passion. Rational thought dissolved into nothingness, replaced by the primal need to surrender completely. The sound of your bodies moving together filled the room, a symphony of heat and desire that left her trembling and undone.

Before Eunha could steady herself, your hand slid up her back, tracing her spine with deliberate slowness before gripping the base of her ponytail. The sharp tug tilted her head back, arching her spine and forcing her to press closer against you. The motion was commanding, almost primal, and paired with the rhythmic slap of your hips against hers, it sent a new wave of shivers coursing through her body.

The sting of your earlier spanks lingered, the heat radiating from her reddened skin intensifying the contrast between pleasure and pain. Your grip on her ponytail tightened, using it as leverage to drive yourself deeper. Each thrust was deliberate, precise, and powerful, eliciting soft cries from her that grew louder with every movement. You felt her clenching around you, her body gripping you tighter with each spank and every commanding tug of her hair.

“You’re squeezing me so hard,” you murmured, your voice dripping with teasing satisfaction. Another sharp slap landed on her cheek, and she cried out, the sound breaking into a breathless moan as her body trembled under you. “You like this, don’t you? Being bent over your desk like this, letting me take you however I want.”

Eunha could barely form a coherent thought, let alone respond. The mixture of pleasure and domination was overwhelming, her body instinctively rocking back to meet you. Her hips moved in time with yours, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure spiraling through her as her nails scraped against the desk, seeking any semblance of grounding in the storm you were creating.

Suddenly, your eyes flicked to her laptop, the screen darkened from inactivity. With a curious smirk, you reached over her, pressing on the trackpad to awaken it. The screen lit up, revealing a blank document, the cursor blinking idly as if mocking her attempt to focus.

You leaned forward slightly, your chest pressing lightly against her back, your lips brushing her ear as you murmured, “You were just waiting for me, weren’t you? Faking work just so I could come and interrupt.”

The words struck her like a lightning bolt, their truth sending her already racing heart into overdrive. She let out a shaky breath, her throat tightening as her mind reeled from the vulnerability you so effortlessly exposed. Yet, it only heightened the sensations coursing through her, the mix of humiliation and desire spiraling into something she could no longer resist.

Your pace quickened, each thrust driving deeper as the sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with her ragged gasps and breathless moans. The steady pull of her ponytail guided her body into perfect alignment, each movement drawing you closer to her deepest, most sensitive spots. Her walls clenched tighter around you, her body reacting instinctively to the rhythm you commanded.

“You’re so tight,” you groaned, your voice tinged with both exertion and satisfaction. The grip on her ponytail tightened again as your free hand traced down her back, gripping her waist to hold her steady. The push and pull of your motions became a dance of raw intensity, every movement calculated to pull her further into the abyss of pleasure.

Eunha’s breaths turned to sharp cries, her voice rising in pitch as her body betrayed her, hurtling toward release. Her thighs trembled uncontrollably, the tension within her building to an unbearable crescendo. Each thrust, each slap, each tug of her ponytail sent her spiraling closer to the edge, her body arching as if begging for the final push.

And then it came. A powerful thrust paired with the sting of another spank tipped her over, the orgasm crashing through her like a tidal wave. She let out a scream, her body quaking violently as every fiber of her being surrendered to the ecstasy you’d drawn out of her. Her walls pulsed around you, gripping you with a ferocity that only amplified your own pleasure.

Her forehead pressed against the desk as her moans softened into shaky breaths, her body trembling beneath you as aftershocks rippled through her. Your pace slowed but remained deliberate, drawing out every last ounce of her pleasure as you admired the way she clung to you, utterly spent.

“Look at you,” you murmured, releasing her ponytail and running your hand down her back, soothing the reddened marks left by your grip. “Completely undone.”

Eunha could barely form a reply, her breath still coming in uneven gasps as she slowly emerged from the haze of her climax. Her fingers flexed weakly against the desk, her legs quivering as she struggled to regain her footing.

But even in her exhaustion, a flicker of anticipation lingered in her chest. The intensity of what she’d just experienced wasn’t just overwhelming—it was addictive. And as much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t wait to see what came next.

As the tremors of her orgasm subsided, you pulled out, her walls gripping you one last time before reluctantly releasing you. The slickness of her release coated your length, gleaming in the dim light as you admired the way her body trembled beneath you, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

With a swift yet deliberate motion, your hand came down on her ass with a sharp spank, the sound cracking through the room like a whip. She let out a startled gasp, her body jolting slightly as the sting spread across her reddened cheek. Your hand lingered, kneading the warm, tender flesh as you smirked, savoring the sight of her arching beneath your touch.

“I just love your ass,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing. Your fingers traced the curve of her cheek, your tone dripping with admiration as you added, “So perfect. I could play with it all day.”

You punctuated your words by gripping both cheeks firmly, your thumbs sinking into the soft flesh before giving them a playful jiggle. The motion sent another wave of heat through her already oversensitized body, drawing a soft whimper from her lips as her legs quivered beneath her.

“You’re amazing,” you continued, your hands continuing to explore her, alternating between gentle squeezes and sharp slaps. The way her skin bounced under your touch captivated you, and you couldn’t resist watching her reactions—the way she trembled, the way her breath hitched with each motion.

Her body arched slightly, the mix of tenderness and dominance in your touch making her head spin. Every squeeze, every jiggle, every deliberate spank reminded her of how utterly at your mercy she was—and how much she relished it.

Your hand lingered, kneading the tender flesh, your fingers digging in just enough to draw another shiver from her. The mix of dominance and care made her head spin, and she couldn’t help but bite her lip as you leaned down to murmur against her ear, “We’re not done yet.”

A flicker of protest flashed in her hazy mind, and she opened her mouth to speak, her voice weak and breathless. “I… I don’t think…” she began, her words trailing off as the weight of your presence pressed against her. But even as her mind tried to form a coherent objection, her body betrayed her, arching instinctively into your touch.

“Shhh,” you murmured softly, your tone soothing yet unyielding. “I know you can take it.”

You stepped away briefly, leaving her bent over the desk, her body still trembling as she tried to collect herself. The sound of a drawer opening and the faint rustle of movement sent a thrill of anticipation racing through her. She bit her lip, her nails digging into the desk as her body tensed with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. When you returned, the cool sensation of lube on your fingers as you coated your length made her breath hitch, a fresh wave of nervous energy coursing through her.

With practiced ease, you spread her cheeks, revealing her tight, puckered hole. She let out a shaky breath, her voice catching as she whispered, “Wait… I’m not sure about this.”

Her words were feeble, lacking conviction, and you simply chuckled, low and teasing. “Trust me,” you said, your tone filled with quiet confidence.

Her breath hitched as she felt a cold drop of lube land directly on her hole, the sensation startling yet oddly thrilling. Her body tensed, and she squirmed slightly beneath your hands, but the warmth of your palms steadying her hips kept her grounded. You positioned yourself, the tip of your length pressing lightly against her ring. You didn’t push in yet, letting her feel the pressure, making her hyper-aware of what was about to happen.

You stayed there, your presence a quiet, commanding force as she processed the moment. Her heart raced, her breath shallow, as the reality of her vulnerable position washed over her. The heat of your length against her and the weight of your hands on her body sent conflicting waves of tension and anticipation coursing through her.

“Anywhere I want,” you reminded her, your voice low and teasing, sending a shiver down her spine.

You began to press forward, the tight ring of muscle yielding slowly as you eased in. The stretch was intense, her gasp sharp and unrestrained as she clutched the edge of the desk. “I—wait, it’s too much,” she stammered, her voice shaky, her body trembling under you as her nerves warred with the raw, growing pleasure.

“You can take it,” you murmured, your hand stroking her back in reassurance even as you pushed further. Her protests faltered, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the sensation overwhelmed her. She could feel every ridge, every vein along your length as you pushed deeper, her body adjusting inch by inch. The mix of discomfort and raw pleasure left her dizzy, her legs quivering as she struggled to hold herself steady.

Halfway in, you paused, your hands steadying her hips. Her breathing was ragged, her body adjusting to the fullness. You reached down with one hand, your fingers finding her clit, circling it gently. The sensation made her cry out, her body clenching around you as the pleasure collided with the stretch of your entry. Her walls pulsed with every deliberate flick of your fingers, sending ripples of sensation through her core and tightening her grip on your length.

“Breathe,” you murmured, your tone firm but reassuring as you let her adjust.

You then proceeded and when you finally bottomed out, you held the position, the sensation of her tightness surrounding you utterly consuming. She was warm and slick, her body trembling as she adjusted to the new fullness. Her breathing came in shaky gasps, her body betraying her as the mix of pain and pleasure exhilarated her in ways she hadn’t expected.

She felt incredible—nothing like she had ever experienced before—and it ignited something deep within her. Her hips began to shift, pressing back against you in tentative movements. The message was clear, and you smirked, taking it as your cue to start.

Your thrusts began slowly, deliberate and deep, each one drawing a soft cry from her lips as the rhythm built. Your hand remained between her legs, teasing her folds and circling her clit, amplifying the sensations that coursed through her. Every motion was calculated, every thrust designed to send her higher, to push her further into the haze of ecstasy that clouded her mind.

Her body responded instinctively, her hips rocking back to meet you as the rhythm quickened. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with her gasps and moans. You felt her clenching around you, her body tightening with every stroke, every flick of your fingers against her sensitive nub.

“Admit it,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing, the words brushing against her ear like a caress. “You love being used by me. I unlocked something for you, didn’t I, Eunha?”

Her breath hitched at your words, her body trembling beneath you as she struggled to reply. Her voice came out in broken gasps, her words tumbling free before she could stop them. “Yes… yes… it feels so good,” she cried, her voice trembling with raw need. “I’m so full with you…”

A wicked grin spreads across your face as you tighten your grip on her hips, driving into her with renewed intensity. Her cries grew louder, her body writhing beneath you as you pushed her closer to the edge. The pressure of your fingers on her clit, the heat of your body against hers, the stretch of every deliberate thrust—it was overwhelming, consuming her completely.

The build-up was relentless, her cries becoming more desperate, her body trembling as she teetered on the brink. The room echoed with her sounds—moans, gasps, and finally, a scream that tore from her throat as her climax hit. It was raw, unrestrained, the kind of sound she had once dismissed as fake when it came from the women you brought home before her. But now, those same sounds were spilling from her lips, unbidden, as the waves of pleasure ripped through her.

Her ring clenched tightly around you, her body convulsing as the orgasm consumed her. Every nerve in her body felt electrified, her cries piercing the air as she lost herself completely to the sensation. You didn’t stop, your hands gripping her hips with a firm intensity as you thrust deeper, chasing your own release.

When you finally spilled into her, the heat of your release filling her tightest depths, it was like nothing she’d ever felt before. The warmth spread through her, a sensation so alien and overwhelming it triggered another wave of pleasure that slammed into her like a tidal wave. Her back arched sharply, her thighs quivering as the combined sensation of fullness and release sent her spiraling into an even more powerful climax.

Her entire body trembled violently, her ring pulsing around you in rhythm with the aftershocks of her ecstasy. She was lost in the overwhelming sensations, unable to distinguish where her pleasure ended and yours began. Her voice broke into gasps and sobs of pleasure, the intensity leaving her breathless and lightheaded.

You leaned over her, your breath warm against her ear as your hands steadied her trembling form. Your fingers pinched her clit once more, a teasing stroke that sent her collapsing against the desk as the aftershocks rippled through her again. Her mind was a haze, her body slick with sweat, and all she could feel was the lingering, overwhelming sensation of being utterly claimed.

As her breathing slowed, her mind began to catch up to what her body had just experienced. The heat of your release still lingered deep inside her, a visceral reminder of how completely she had surrendered to the moment. For a fleeting second, she felt a rush of pride—this was hers now, the pleasure, the intensity, the connection. And yet, a part of her couldn’t shake the realization that this sensation, so intimate and raw, had once been shared with others before her.

But none of that mattered at this moment. All she could do was gasp for air, her body trembling against yours as the room spun around her, the aftermath of your shared ecstasy leaving her utterly undone.

“Such a good girl,” you murmured, your tone filled with satisfaction as you felt her body quiver beneath you. “All done. I knew you had it in you.”

Her legs gave out as the aftershocks rippled through her, leaving her limp and utterly spent. You held her close for a moment, letting her catch her breath, before you began to pull back. Slowly, deliberately, you exited her, and the sensation left her gasping softly. The emptiness hit her like a sudden void, her body instinctively clenching as if to draw you back in, but you were already gone.

Her eyes fluttered shut as the cool air brushed over her now-gaping ring, the absence of your presence making her feel incomplete. A strange, hollow ache settled deep within her, as though a part of her was missing. She bit her lip, suppressing the odd sense of longing that threatened to bubble up, her mind torn between shame and the raw need still thrumming through her veins.

You stepped back, letting your gaze linger for a moment on the sight of her. She was utterly undone, her body slack and trembling, her skin glistening with sweat. The way she looked—spent and marked—sent a surge of satisfaction through you. Before leaving her entirely, you raised a hand and delivered one last sharp smack to her reddened cheeks, the sound cracking through the room.

Eunha flinched at the sudden sting, a soft whimper escaping her lips. Her body shivered in response, her cheeks burning with a fresh wave of heat as the mark of your control lingered on her skin. The smack felt like a punctuation to everything that had just happened, a reminder of the claim you had staked on her.

As you stepped away, she remained draped over the desk, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. Her mind swirled with disbelief and exhilaration as the realization of what had just happened fully hit her. She had never felt anything like this—never thought it was even possible. Her body still tingled, every nerve hypersensitive, and yet the absence of you left her feeling unmoored, yearning for something more. She leaned against the desk, spent and vulnerable, the weight of the moment settling over her like a warm yet haunting blanket.

-----

By the end of the week, Eunha had stopped fighting the inevitable. She had surrendered to your connection, letting you take what you wanted, each encounter intensifying the bond that tethered you together. Every touch, every glance, every whispered word deepened the intimacy between you. And in the quiet aftermath, when your breathing had steadied and her body still buzzed with the memory of your touch, she found herself wanting more. Not just the physical connection, but the unspoken exclusivity that seemed to linger in the air between you.

She wanted to be the only one you touched, the only one you claimed, the only one you used.

But then the week ended, and reality came crashing down.

You walked through the door with another girl, your laughter ringing out like a cruel reminder of everything she wasn’t. The sight hit Eunha like a blow, sharp and unforgiving. Her heart sank as she froze in the doorway of her room, her fingers gripping the frame as if to steady herself. SinB. Of all people, it had to be SinB.

Her mind raced as she watched you chat effortlessly, your hand brushing SinB’s arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. The way you smiled at her, leaned in just slightly as you spoke, set Eunha’s blood boiling. This wasn’t just disrespect—this felt personal. Jealousy burned hot inside her, laced with a bitter sting of betrayal. After everything you’d shared, how could you act so indifferent? And with her friend, no less.

SinB giggled at something you said, the sound twisting in Eunha’s stomach like a knife. Her jaw clenched as she watched the two of you move down the hall, your casual smirk cutting through her like a dagger. Her stomach churned as you opened your bedroom door, ushering SinB inside like this was just another meaningless encounter.

The door clicked shut, and something inside her snapped.

Before she could think twice, Eunha’s feet carried her down the hall, her heart pounding in her chest as rage surged through her. Without hesitation, she shoved the door open, the force of it startling both you and SinB.

“Eunha!” you exclaimed, your voice tinged with surprise as you turned to face her.

“Get out,” she spat, her voice trembling with fury as her gaze locked onto SinB.

SinB blinked, confusion etched across her face as she looked between you and Eunha. “Uh… excuse me?”

“I said, get out,” Eunha repeated, her tone sharp and unyielding. Her eyes burned with a fire that left no room for argument.

“Eunha, what is going on?” SinB asked, her voice rising in disbelief. “Why are you acting like this?”

“You know exactly why,” Eunha snapped, her voice cutting through the tension. “Just go.”

SinB hesitated, her expression a mix of confusion and annoyance, before grabbing her purse and muttering something under her breath. She glanced at you as if for an explanation, but you said nothing, your calm gaze fixed on Eunha instead. SinB huffed, brushing past Eunha as she left the room. The sound of the front door closing was loud in the ensuing silence.

Eunha’s hands clenched into fists at her sides as she took a step closer, her anger spilling over. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You tilted your head slightly, your expression infuriatingly casual. “Care to elaborate?”

“SinB?” she hissed, her voice low but trembling with emotion. “Are you just making the rounds of my friends now? Is that it? First Umji, and now this?”

Your smirk deepened, but there was a flicker of something else in your eyes—curiosity, perhaps. “I didn’t realize I needed your approval.”

“You don’t,” she shot back, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “But I trusted you, and you… You’re doing this on purpose. You’re trying to—” She cut herself off, her chest heaving as she struggled to find the words. “Are you trying to humiliate me? To make me feel like nothing?”

You stepped closer, your voice calm, almost soothing. “You’re taking this awfully personally, Eunha.”

“Of course I am!” she snapped, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You used me, and now you’re—what? Moving on to the next? Except it’s not just anyone, is it? You’re picking my friends. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

The tension in the room was thick, the air crackling with the weight of unspoken emotions. You studied her carefully, your gaze steady as you leaned back slightly. “And why does it bother you so much? Why does it matter who I bring here?”

Eunha’s breath hitched, her anger faltering for a moment as the question hung between you. She swallowed hard, her fists loosening at her sides. “Because it’s not just about them,” she admitted, her voice softer now but no less raw. “It’s about me. It’s about what I thought we had.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the distance between you feeling both too much and not enough. For the first time, Eunha’s vulnerability was laid bare, and the weight of her words hung in the air like a challenge.

Eunha’s hands trembled as she stood in the center of your room, her chest heaving with the effort to keep her emotions in check. The silence between you was deafening, her words hanging in the air as she tried to make sense of everything she was feeling. The betrayal, the anger, the jealousy—all of it swirled inside her like a storm, but underneath it all was a need she couldn’t deny. A need for you to understand what this had done to her.

You raised a brow, completely unfazed by her confession. “What’s your problem?”

Eunha’s chest tightened, her heart pounding as she struggled to find the right words. “After everything… after this whole week, you just go back to bringing some other girl home like it was nothing?”

Your expression darkened slightly, though your tone remained calm. “Our deal’s over, Eunha. I didn’t think it was a big deal anymore.”

“It is a big deal!” she shot back, her voice cracking with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. Her eyes burned as she stared at you, willing you to see how much this mattered to her. “You used me all week. You touched me like I was yours, like I was the only one. And now you just… move on like none of it mattered?”

You stepped closer, your movements deliberate and measured, the space between you shrinking as your voice dropped. “What did you expect? It was a bet, Eunha. You lost. That’s all there was to it.”

Her breath hitched at your words, the weight of them landing like a blow to her chest. She shook her head, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, though she refused to let them fall. “No. You can’t tell me it didn’t mean something. You can’t just act like I’m the same as the rest.”

Your gaze softened for a fleeting moment, though your casual demeanor didn’t falter entirely. “And what if you’re not?” you asked, your tone quieter now, almost teasing. “What are you trying to say, Eunha?”

Her hands trembled at her sides as the words tumbled out before she could stop them. “I want to be the only one. The only one you… use.”

The air between you grew heavy with the weight of her admission. Her chest heaved as she looked up at you, her eyes burning with emotion. For the first time, her vulnerability was laid bare, her need for you undeniable.

You stepped closer, the distance between you almost nonexistent now. “That’s what you want?” you murmured, your voice low and deliberate. “You want to be mine?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling but firm.

Your hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face as your lips curled into a smirk. “Prove it.”

She blinked, her breath hitching at the challenge in your voice. “How?” she asked softly.

Without answering, you stepped back, gesturing toward the floor in front of the couch. “Kneel,” you commanded, your tone calm but firm.

Eunha hesitated for only a moment before sinking to her knees, the plush carpet soft beneath her as her hands rested awkwardly at her sides. Her body trembled under the weight of your gaze, her heart racing as she obeyed. The silence between you was deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of fabric as you pulled your phone from your pocket.

She watched with a mix of curiosity and apprehension as your fingers moved across the screen. You sent a quick text before sliding the phone back into your pocket, your smirk deepening as you took a seat on the couch in front of her.

You leaned back, your posture casual, one arm draped over the back of the couch. “Don’t move,” you said simply, your voice carrying an edge of command that made her heart skip a beat.

Eunha nodded, her eyes flickering with uncertainty as she knelt there, her body tense under your unyielding stare. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, the weight of the moment pressing down on her as she fought to keep still. She wanted to ask what you had done, what would come next, but the intensity in your gaze kept her silent.

Minutes later, a knock echoed through the apartment, and her stomach twisted with nerves. Her eyes darted toward the door, but she didn’t dare move. She could hear your footsteps as you stood and made your way to the door, opening it with ease.

“Hey,” came Umji’s voice, her tone curious. “You texted me to come over? What’s going on?”

“Come in,” you said smoothly, stepping aside to let her enter. Eunha’s breath hitched as she heard the door close, her body frozen in place. Umji’s eyes landed on her almost immediately, confusion flickering across her face as she took in the scene.

“What is this?” Umji asked, her voice filled with disbelief as she glanced between you and Eunha.

You moved to stand behind Eunha, your hand resting lightly on her shoulder. “She wanted to prove something,” you said casually, your tone laced with amusement. “So I thought you might want to see.”

Eunha’s cheeks burned under Umji’s gaze, her body trembling with a mix of humiliation and anticipation. She felt your fingers trail down her arm, your touch both grounding and electrifying as you leaned down to murmur in her ear.

“Don’t make me wait,” you said softly, the words sending a shiver through her. “Start.”

Her hands moved to the hem of her shirt, her movements slow and hesitant as she began to undress. Piece by piece, her clothing fell away, leaving her bare and exposed under the sharp contrast of your commanding presence and Umji’s incredulous stare.

“What the hell is going on?” Umji demanded, her voice rising slightly, but she didn’t look away.

Eunha’s breath came in shallow gasps as you guided her closer to the couch, your hand tangling in her hair as you brought her face to your length. “Just watch,” you said simply, your voice calm yet commanding.

Eunha’s lips brushed against you, her movements tentative at first as she began to please you, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. Her warm breath ghosted over your length as her tongue flicked out, testing and teasing before she grew bolder. Slowly, she wrapped her lips around you, her head lowering as she took you into her mouth. Her hands gripped your thighs for balance, her touch light but steady as she worked to find her rhythm.

Her efforts were cautious but deliberate, each stroke of her tongue a mix of careful exploration and mounting determination. The sound of her soft, wet movements filled the room, a symphony of submission that drew your attention back to her. Occasionally, you reached down, your hand tangling in her hair to guide her movements, pushing her head down further. Each time, she responded with a muffled gasp, her body tensing momentarily before she adjusted, taking you deeper.

“Good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing, your praise making her cheeks burn brighter. The words sent a surge of motivation through her, and she worked harder, her lips gliding smoothly along your length, her tongue swirling expertly around you.

For Eunha, this was the biggest test. Every motion, every flick of her tongue was charged with the weight of proving herself. She knew this was more than just an act of submission—it was a declaration of her place, her claim on you. A small, unexpected part of her stirred with arousal at the thought of Umji watching. Showing her friend who was truly yours, who had earned this, awakened a pride she didn’t know she possessed. It was intoxicating, this mixture of vulnerability and power, and it drove her further.

You leaned back against the couch, letting her set the pace for a moment before gripping the back of her head firmly and pressing her down. Her eyes widened as she took you deeper, her throat constricting slightly as she adjusted to your command. She let out a muffled sound, a mix of effort and surrender, before pulling back just enough to catch her breath. You allowed her a brief reprieve before guiding her again, her lips tightening around you as she resumed her work with even greater intensity.

Across the room, Umji stood frozen, her arms crossed tightly as she watched the scene unfold. Her gaze remained locked on Eunha, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief. There was curiosity too, evident in the way her lips parted slightly as though to speak, only to remain silent. The sight of Eunha—once brimming with disdain for you—now fully submitting to your control was nothing short of a revelation.

“You’re really putting on a show, aren’t you?” you remarked, your voice dripping with amusement as your hand rested lightly on the back of Eunha’s head. “Keep going. Show her why you’re the only one.”

Eunha’s eyes flickered upward, meeting yours for the briefest moment before closing again. She redoubled her efforts, her movements growing faster, more fluid as her arousal fueled her determination. The wet sounds of her work filled the room, punctuated by her soft hums and the occasional gasp when you pushed her deeper.

Your breathing quickened as she found her rhythm, her technique honed with every passing second. Her lips tightened around you, her tongue pressing firmly against the sensitive underside as she bobbed her head. You groaned softly, the sound spurring her on as she worked to bring you closer to the edge.

When your climax hit, it was with a sharp exhale and a tightening of your grip on her hair. You pressed her down, holding her in place as you released, feeling her throat constrict as she swallowed without hesitation. Her cheeks hollowed as she took everything you gave, her obedience absolute.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, you leaned forward slightly, your hand loosening in her hair. “Tilt your head back,” you commanded, your tone low and firm. Eunha obeyed, tilting her head until her face was angled perfectly toward you. “Open,” you added, and her lips parted slowly, her breath coming in soft pants as you inspected her.

Your release pooled at the back of her throat, glistening under the dim light. The sight sent a surge of satisfaction through you, and you allowed yourself a moment to admire her submission before leaning forward slightly.

“Hold it,” you murmured. With one hand steadying her chin, you spat lightly into her mouth, the act deliberate and possessive—a seal of her surrender. “Now swallow.”

Eunha’s throat bobbed as she complied, her lips closing around the mix of sensations with no hesitation. Her eyes flickered upward, meeting yours briefly before darting away, her cheeks flushed with a mix of humiliation and pride.

“Good girl,” you said, your voice tinged with satisfaction as you wiped a thumb across her chin, catching a stray drop before it fell. You pulled her back slightly, your member still glistening as you began to tap it lightly against her lips, the soft, wet sounds drawing a faint blush to her already heated skin.

Your hand shifted to her cheek, guiding her head as you tapped her face twice, the subtle smack sending a shiver through her. The sound was muted yet deliberate, a reminder of her place and the power you held over her. Her lips parted instinctively, and you pressed the tip of your length against her once more, smirking as her breath hitched.

As you pulled back, your gaze flickered to Umji, who had remained rooted in place, her arms crossed tightly as she watched the entire scene unfold. Her expression was a mix of shock and disbelief, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, though no words came.

“I think we’re done here,” you said, your tone casual as though nothing unusual had just occurred. You gestured lazily toward the door, your attention still focused on Eunha’s flushed face. “We can’t meet up anymore.”

“What?” Umji managed, her voice rising slightly with disbelief.

You shrugged, the smirk on your lips unfaltering. “You see how it is. Eunha’s the one who belongs here now.”

Umji blinked, her gaze flickering between you and Eunha, still kneeling at your feet. Eunha’s chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, her hair disheveled and her cheeks still stained red from exertion and submission. Yet her eyes remained fixed on you, a silent devotion radiating from her as she knelt motionless, her body awaiting your next command.

Umji shifted on her feet, crossing her arms tighter as she glanced down at Eunha. “Eunha,” she said, her tone softer now, tinged with disbelief, “are you really okay with this? With him?”

Eunha didn’t respond. She didn’t move. Her gaze remained unwaveringly on you, as though Umji wasn’t even in the room. The lack of acknowledgement was as loud as any reply, leaving Umji stunned into silence.

“Well,” Umji said after a moment, her voice quieter. “I guess… I guess that’s that.” She hesitated, her gaze lingering on Eunha one last time before she turned toward the door. “Goodbye.”

The door clicked shut behind her, and the apartment fell into silence. You exhaled softly, leaning back against the couch as your hand slid through Eunha’s hair, the gentle motion drawing her gaze upward to meet yours.

“You’ve earned it,” you murmured, your voice low and approving. “You’re mine.”

Eunha’s lips parted slightly as a faint blush spread across her cheeks, her eyes shining with unspoken emotion. Slowly, she moved forward, her knees brushing against the carpet as she climbed into your lap, her arms wrapping around your neck with surprising tenderness. Her lips found yours in a soft, lingering kiss, her body melting against yours as if she belonged there—because she did.

Her breath was warm against your skin as she nestled against your chest, her head resting on your shoulder. The tension from moments before dissolved into something quieter, softer, as she clung to you. Her fingers traced absent patterns along your collarbone, her voice a soft whisper in the stillness.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her words carrying a weight that hinted at something deeper—a surrender not just of her body, but of her trust, her heart, and her place by your side.

You rested a hand on her back, the other threading lazily through her hair as you held her close. The silence between you wasn’t empty; it was full of an unspoken understanding, a bond forged through everything you had shared. At that moment, there was no doubt. Eunha was yours, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

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bumblebeesfromvenus · 11 days ago

Text

Soft Feathers, Softer Kisses 🦉

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I'm soooo excited for y'all to see this!!!!

My first time writing for Telemachus and EPIC in general so please go easy on me 🥲

This was born from my need to smooch Tele. He's so cute 🥹

*the art is not mine, I got it from pinterest, if anyone knows the artists lmk pls!*

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You're betrothed to the prince of Ithaca. His father is lost at sea and 108 suitors are pushing his mother to choose a new king. When one of them insults the queen, a fight breaks loose, and you end up fiercely defending your lover with a determined owl at your side.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The sound of your sandals on the smooth palace floor echoed off the marble walls, the fabric of your chiton that wasn't bunched up in your hands was brushing against your legs while you hurried towards the hall.

The commotion had managed to make its way through the entire building like a breeze of the salty sea air.

Still, the news reached you later than you'd have liked.

Worry and anger twisted in your chest, a feeling like countless arrows piercing your heart. Your lungs were burning, no breath managing to get enough oxygen in your blood.

You had to hurry.

They would eat him alive.

You were well aware of the suitors. The 108 men who'd grown stubborn roots in the palace and refused to leave without getting a chance.

The king had been gone for so long, leaving his throne empty and his family behind. It had been two decades since he sailed off to war.

Not many believed he was even still among the living, instead thinking he was slaving away in his place in the Underworld.

The queen managed to keep the kingdom from ruin for years, ever since her beloved left, and yet they insisted on a new a king, a new man to wear the crown and sit upon the throne.

A new man to take Penelope as his wife.

The moment they showed up at the gates you'd stared at them with disgust, boring into them with your sharp gaze.

None of them were fit to lead, let alone rule an entire kingdom.

The queen stalled and stalled, the hope of her husband's return heavy on her heart.

However, the suitors soon grew impatient. Causing havoc within the walls of the palace, pounding on Penelope's doors, threatening bloodshed if she didn't choose a new king.

And now, your betrothed, the prince of Ithaca, was caught in the middle of it all because he was cursed with a heart too big for his body.

When you turned the corner of the hallway, you were met with a sight that made your heart shatter and wrath boil in your veins.

The suitors had circled Telemachus, leaving him trapped with no way out while Antinous stood over him, broad shoulders throwing shadows on the face of your beloved.

He was beaten and bloodied, heaving while trying to fight back.

Although a small, proud smile cracked on your face when you saw some of the men limping or nursing their bruised eyes.

Even Antinous was left with crimson streaks dripping from his mouth, staining his teeth. Your feet were carrying you further in their direction, a mindless action.

Panic struck you when Antinous raised his hand to deliver another blow.

Without thinking, you called out to him, rage tinting your voice accompanied by the angry grinding of your teeth.

"Antinous!" You yelled, a scowl on your face as you forced your way through the ocean of suitors.

"Get away from him!"

The giant man lowered his hand with a deep chuckle and turned to face you with a smirk that made the previously boiling blood to freeze.

"If it isn't the little princess. Come to save your prince, have you? I swear it's the other way around."

The grin that sat on his face, his bloodstained teeth exposed, made bile rise up your throat.

The men chuckled, making Telemachus' head fall forward in shame.

You payed them no mind, rushing to your lover.

Giving Antinous a look that could kill, you kneeled down next to Telemachus and cupped his face, a worried crease forming between your brows while you gently brushed your thumb over the blooming bruise on his cheek to soothe it.

"Look at you.. you're bleeding!" You gasped, quickly using your chiton to wipe away the blood on his face.

"I'm fine, I promise."

Telemachus gave you an unconvincing smile, followed by a wince. The worried look on your face tugged at his heart.

You looked like you were about to cry, and he hated to think that he was the reason.

"You're not fine. You're bruised and-and what if you broke a bone? How did this even happen? They knew there'd be consequences if they-"

the words just spilled out of you, the concern for your lover was something you could no longer contain.

He cupped your cheek and smiled weakly.

"My love, please. I assure you, I'm alright-"

He was cut off by Antinous, a scoff falling from his split lips. You scowled again and rose from your knees, a panicked expression appearing on your beloved's face.

"No, don't-"

Telemachus grasped at your hand, only for you to gently tug it from his grip as you approached Antinous.

Only when you made your way over to the grinning man did you notice a big owl circling the suitors, flying high towards the tall ceiling.

You spared it a glance, noting the magnificent coloring of its feathers and the bright eyes filled with something you could only describe as a sense of justice.

Not once had you see such determination in an animal, but it managed to put your mind at ease a little.

"You filthy dog! Who do you think you are?! He is your prince, whether you like it or not. And you have no right-" you snarled, raising your hand to point a finger at him.

He quickly caught your wrist in his fierce grip, a deep frown sitting on his face.

Antinous glanced at Telemachus, who was holding his aching side trying to pull himself off the ground, before averting his eyes back to you.

"He doesn't look very princely to me."

The smirk he sported was enough to make the fire in your chest spread even more.

"You-" you sneered only to be interrupted by Antinous again.

"What? Hm? What will you do?"

"Stop." Telemachus heaved, supporting himself on a marble pillar.

You didn't let yourself be intimidated by him and rivaled him with a look just as sharp.

"There's a special place in Tarturus for you, Antinous. If he'd even allow it." You spoke quietly but firmly, feeling satisfaction bloom in your heart at his reaction.

Antinous scowled, tightening his grip around your wrist.

"He," he began, "is dead."

You smirked, a scoff making its way past your lips.

"You better pray to the gods. Lady Tyche is not on your side. You'll be lucky enough if he even grants you a way to the Underworld. I hope you have enough gold on hand. Because the only way you're getting across the Styx is in pieces." You spat at him, venom dripping from your tongue.

Antinous bared his teeth, fury blazing in his eyes as he raised his other hand in the air, presumably to strike you.

"Get."

Telemachus' voice boomed through the hall, a scorned look on his face.

"Your hands. Off of her." He sneered, pushing himself away from the pillar.

"Do you want another beating, boy?" The giant man roared, almost crushing your wrist in his hand.

Down came your feathered friend, swooping in with its sharp claws and a chilling screech, successfully tearing open a new scar across Antinous' eye. He cried out and dropped your wrist, clutching his face instead.

The other men quickly drew their swords, swinging at the bird, only to miss and receive a peck from its beak against any vulnerable spot.

The owl evaded the suitors' weapons with such grace and struck back with such vigor that you were almost mesmerized.

"Αγάπη μου." *(my love)

Telemachus' gentle call for you snapped you out of your haze.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, worried Antinous had caused you any harm. You stared at him, your lips parted.

"I... no. No, I'm alright. We should leave." You said hurried, supporting his weight while you dragged him down an opposite corridor.

You spared the suitors and the mysterious owl a last glance, a smirk tugging at your lips at the sight of 108 men being defeated by a bird.

Antinous caught your gaze, and he snarled at you, still holding his eye.

"Next time.." he called out after you, "you're dead."

The threat sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine, but he was quickly put back in line by the owl, who promptly delivered a peck to the top of his head.

With a small smile playing on your face, you led your beloved back to his rooms to take care of his wounds.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Back in your chambers, you knelt in front of Telemachus, a worried crease between your brows while you gently held a damp linen cloth to his swollen and split knuckles.

The pure white fabric was stained with the crimson blood of your lover, a sting in your heart.

Telemachus sighed and took your chin in his hand, tilting your head to look him in the eyes.

"Λουλούδι μου, your expression pains me. I'd rather see your heartwarming smile." He spoke with a small grin, hissing when his busted lip reopnend and the blood began pouring once more. *(my flower)

Quickly, you pressed the cloth to his mouth, a deep frown on your face.

"And your state pains me. You-... You could've died. These are vicious, feral men, and as much as I don't doubt your ability to stand your ground, 108 against 1.... the odds weren't on your side." You replied, such sadness in your eyes it made Telemachus' heart ache.

"I wouldn't be able to live with myself if..." you sighed deeply, tears threatening to fall from your lashline while your head fell forward.

His gentle hands cupped your face, the rag in your grasp long forgotten.

"But I'm okay. I promise you, my love, it's barely a scratch." A smile cracked on his face and you couldn't help but chuckle, followed by a sniffle.

"You have a larger heart than all those men combined." You whispered, pressing your palm right above his beating heart.

Telemachus cupped your hand and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fell shut at the sensation as you melted further into his touch.

"Besides," he broke the silence, a smirk on his lips, "I had help."

He glanced towards his balcony and you followed his line of sight, being met with the owl resting contently on the railing, curiosity in its bright eyes.

"Yes," you chuckled, rising to your feet and walking towards the creature, gently dragging Telemachus behind you by his hand, "your mysterious feathered friend. Care to introduce me?"

"Right. Her name's Ath-"

he was cut off when the owl screeched at him and furiously flapped her wings. He startled and chuckled nervously, clearing his throat.

"I-I meant A... Alena. Yes. Her name's Alena."

If an owl had shoulders and they could sag, this is what you'd imagine it'd look like.

You laughed softly, watching as the bird narrowed her sharp eyes at Telemachus. He swallowed thickly and gave her an awkward smile.

"Well, Thank you." You said sincerely, smiling when the owl bowed her head at you.

What a curious creature.

"We should get you some ointments for those cuts and bruises."

You turned back to your beloved.

"I told you, I'm totally fi- ow."

He winced, holding his side that would undoubtedly bloom with purples and blues come evening. You sighed softly and shook your head at him.

"You're too sweet for your own good sometimes."

You caressed his cheekbone and pressed your lips to his in a gentle kiss, minding his injuries. He hummed into the kiss, resting his hands on your waist.

Lost in your embrace, the owl made another sound, something closer to the typical hoot, averting your attention to her.

She ruffled her feathers and with a last glance at the both of you she took off into sky. With a content expression you watched her glisten in the afternoon sun.

Telemachus had a bright smile on his face and waved after her, watching as she flew into the sunset, disappearing behind the horizon.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Please let me know what you thought! <3

More of my stuff -> 💫

I think you wanna see this @withonly-sweetheart @allysunny 👀

Thank you so so so much to @vampkennedy for assisting me with the translations 🩷

#bumblebeesfromvenus #telemachus #telemachus x reader #prince of ithaca #telemachus of ithaca #epic x reader #epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #epic antinous #epic athena #epic penelope #telemachus of ithaca x reader #prince of ithaca x reader

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withleeknow · 3 months ago

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october 23rd.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, slice of life; one ass grab, unedited bc i am a danger to society word count: 1k note: i whipped this up pretty spontaneously and i actually kinda loathe it lol but i still wanted to post smth bc it’s my anniversary of joining the fandom 🥺 also a little early bday post for mimo. the bunny in question is leebit but i couldn’t drop any names bc this is not idol specific lol. anywhomst happy jen(o)versary

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

Minho comes into your shared apartment, shrugging off his coat and taking off his shoes with minimal noise. It’s not that late — just a quarter past midnight — and you’re not a light sleeper by any means, but still.

He had told you not to wait up for him, that his work dinner might end late and he knew you had a long day. Minho patters on socked feet further into your home, expecting you to be in bed already sleeping, surrounded by your loyal trio of cats, and yet, it’s not the bedroom where he finds you.

Yes, you’re sleeping, but you’re on the couch, in front of the TV with Netflix’s question “Are you still watching?” written over a paused scene of the K-drama you’re both currently obsessed with. There’s a stuffed bunny in your arms, held tightly against your chest like it’s your most prized possession. Looks like you’ve been napping for a while now.

The white bunny is dressed in a navy hoodie, his eyes full of mischief that’s only emphasized by a toothy smile that he sports. It’s the plushie that Minho got for you during your vacation trip to Osaka last year, when you happened to spot the little fur ball in the window of a toy store and said it looked like your boyfriend. It’s become a great companion for you ever since you brought it home, something for you to hold onto whenever you miss your love.

Minho is a little surprised. You don’t usually force yourself to stay up for you, especially when you’re tired.

He doesn’t disturb you right away though. Instead, he heads toward the bathroom to change and freshen up for bed. You would probably kill him if he touched you in his outside clothes anyway.

When he returns some fifteen minutes later, he switches off the TV, tugs the bunny by its ears to free it from your embrace and chucks the thing haphazardly to the carpeted floor. It’s your prized possession, not his. Besides, you don’t need your little replacement Minho anymore now that he’s home.

When he scoops you in his arms, you stir awake, adorably confused as he carries you to the bedroom.

“Where’s my bunny?” Half a question, half a yawn.

“Hello to you too,” he mutters, laying you under the covers with narrowed eyes though he still leans in to press a greeting peck to the corner of your mouth. “I guess I don’t even matter as much as your little toy. Not even a ‘How are you?’”

“Okay, love of my entire life.” You roll your eyes with affection, pulling him down to kiss him properly. You can still taste it, the white wine that he must’ve had all night. “How are you? How was the dinner, big baby?”

“Boring. Unbearable. Should’ve just stayed home with you,” Minho laments, crawling into the space next to you, settling into your arms as you hug him close. This is what you should be doing all the time. With him, not some lame rabbit. “Why did you wait up? I told you you didn’t have to.”

You card your fingers through his soft hair, playing with the strands that curl at the nape of his neck. “Our anniversary’s tomorrow. Or I guess it’s today already. Just wanted to see you before the morning.”

“Would it make a difference?”

“I don’t know. I just wanted to see you.”

Your boyfriend detaches from you for a second to hold himself up on one elbow. He just stares at you for a brief moment, makes you blush under the scrutiny of his gaze. His big eyes, usually keen and sharp, always soften to a dizzying degree when they look at you.

Then Minho is leaning close to slant his mouth over yours again. “You’re cheesy today,” he comments, his tender smile still pressed against your lips. "Happy anniversary."

You only hum in response. One of his hands slides down your body to rest on your ass, giving it a little affectionate squeeze, the moment still entirely innocent despite his sneaky fingers.

You kiss for a while, lazily moving together in tandem, gentle hands holding onto the other person like a lifeline. In a way, you suppose you are. You’re each other’s lifelines, each other’s lighthouses.

When you pull away, it’s to let out a yawn that you can’t hold in anymore. “Happy anniversary”, you finally say back, sleepily. “Can you go get my bunny now? Did you leave him on the floor again?”

Minho rolls his eyes, yet it’s playful and completely endeared. “Your bunny again. That thing is on the floor where it belongs. You replaced me. Didn’t you use to call me your bunny?”

“Don’t do that to him,” you scold softly. “He’s our son. Have you seen the resemblance? You look like you literally birthed him.”

“Oh my god, why would you compare me to that thing like that?” Before you know it, Minho’s rolling over, resting half of his body on top of yours like a weighted blanket to pin you down, to get you complacent before you nag him any further about a toy bunny that he only sometimes gets jealous of. “You’re delirious. Please go to sleep.”

The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed, the warmth that you usually feel beside you gradually waning by the second. Minho’s gone, but greeting you in his place is a white bunny with a mischievous smile and a twinkle in his big eyes — truly a perfect replica of the man. The same bunny that he always makes a show of hating so much.

The sun is out to play, hanging high up in the sky, slithering through the cracks between the curtains to caress your hair. It feels like it’s gonna be a beautiful day; you’ve got your bunny, the sun, and if you focus hard enough, you’ll hear the sounds of pots and pans out there in the kitchen, Minho’s soft voice humming a tune you’re too familiar with, and the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes wafting all around.

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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vividxpages · 1 month ago

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⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅ home is wherever you are ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 13k

summary: As the Christmas holidays approach, your parents summon you home to attend a business dinner with the Hightowers and secure a possible match with one of Alicent’s sons. With no intention to go, you spend the weeks of December with your boyfriend Jacaerys and your friends at Hogwarts, but as the holidays draw closer, you find yourself crumbling underneath your worries and it’s only a matter of time until Jace finds out…

A festive Hogwarts x HotD story.

warnings: Gryffindor head boy!Jace x pureblood!reader (they’re in seventh year), established relationship, fluff, festive and cozy vibes, kissing and making out, , bastardphobia, discrimination, the Targaryens are a legendary family of dragon tamers & riders, anxiety and bad coping mechanisms, Quidditch, vaginal fingering, handjobs, angst, burn injuries, mental breakdown, hurt/comfort, Christmas, happy ending, hopeful ending

a/n: this fic poured out of me within five days, so I am so excited to finally post it. if you don't like reading long fics on tumblr, you can also read it here on my ao3 account! Please consider leaving kudos or a comment on there if you like it.

Happy festive season to all of you ❤️

December at Hogwarts was a breath of cold sharp air and a warm blanket by the fire, both at once.

The cozy and freezing season showed itself at best in its contrasts at the castle by the lake, the bright snow all around it with the earthy colors on the inside, every fire and candle lit within the corridors and rooms of the school. There were only a few weeks left until Christmas and the atmosphere at the school was welcoming and cozy as ever, the air smelling of cinnamon and peppermint, pine and gingerbread.

In every corner, the preparations for the festivities could be spotted, whether students were having snowball fights near the forest or muttering spells into the Christmas cookies so they remained warm and soft throughout the week. In the cold landscape, groups of friends went on a snowy walk and board games were played in the evenings while others knitted Christmas sweaters or wrapped their presents until it’d be too late to give them out to their friends at Hogwarts.

In the middle of it all, there was you.

You were the only daughter of an old and proud pureblood family, a cruel fate of the stars which never had been easy for you.

As a child, you had often wondered if you were a changeling, misplaced on the wrong doorstep, a flower doomed to try her best to blossom between a thousand thorns. Going to Hogwarts and finding a home in those warm halls had been a blessing, but the relationship with your strict parents had only complicated itself more, until it eventually became a twisted and ugly thing. The situation at home only worsened for you since they somehow had found out you were dating Jacaerys Velaryon.

Their already disobedient and free-minded daughter with the dark-haired wanna-be Targaryen, son of Rhaenya Targaryen who they had sided against ever since the deep rift in the biggest and richest dynasty of wizards and witches had opened. It was a scandal, to know this illegitimate half-blood sullied your good name and virtue.

Of course, they had tried to talk some sense into you on many occasions, their words like poison clouding your mind until you knew one thing for sure; you hated them. And you were never going to end things with Jacaerys simply because they despised the match between you two.

With the Christmas holidays soon approaching, letters from your parents’ estate in the countryside had started to arrive and so far, each of them had been burned by a quick whisper from your lips. Instead, you were ignoring all your worries and pushed them far away into the back of your mind and simply by spending time with your boyfriend, it had worked out well for you, so far.

Falling in love with Jacaerys Velaryon had been as easy as choosing your wand all this time ago, as feeling the first magic of your life prickle beneath your fingertips.

Since you had been assigned to the same House, your paths had crossed often but briefly and something inside of you had always been mesmerized by him. As head boy and bright heir of Rhaenyra Targaryen, he was a wanted man, making it difficult at first to get to know him even as you lived and studied close to one another.

The way his addictive laugh echoed across the corridors when he walked with his younger brother Luke or his quidditch team, how he could lose himself in deep concentration during his studies and he achieved greatness to follow his mother’s grand reputation. It all only added to the quiet fascination you nurtured for him, his good looks and charming personality a dangerous fuel to the fire. While hard-working and ambitious, he was kind and courageous and when you finally became acquaintances through your friendship with Baela, you knew this could either end well or in complete heartbreak for you.

With your friend groups mixing, the two of you had danced around each other for the longest time. And while you really had tried to see him as a friend, your thoughts kept returning to wondering how it might be to kiss him, to hold his hand while you walked around Hogwarts, to know all of him and to be known by him.

It finally had hit you one day in Potions, when the amortentia you’d been asked to brew had started to smell like Jace’s quidditch jumper, his cologne and a unique scent of salt and fire. You had looked over at him in shock and to your surprise, he had already been staring at you, his own kettle a soft pink, similar to the bow you often wore in your hair…

It had been summer and with the privileges of the 6th year, you had been allowed to go stargazing on top of the Astronomy Tower. You had sat beside Jace, his jacket draped over your shoulders as your feet had dangled over the edge. When the first shooting star had passed by and everyone gasped in delight around you, Jace and you had only eyes for each other until he finally bridged the last little bit of distance between you and kissed you softly.

That night, you had fallen asleep together, sharing one sleeping bag as you giggled together in the darkness and shared kisses, every new one more daring than the last…

Ever since then, Jacaerys and you had been a dream team, the golden Head Boy and Quidditch star and the smartest girl of Gryffindor House.

Today, it was a quiet evening at the common room, only a few students still mingling around after dinner at the Great Hall. Jace and you had finished up early, taking a small plate of creamy tiramisu with you on the way to secure your favorite spot on the old and comfortably sofa by the fireplace.

The shadows of the flames warmed your legs as you read in a book, your hand absently brushing through Jace’s hair. Your boyfriend’s head rested in your lap, tiny and pleasant shivers going through him at your affections while he wrote a letter to his mother, his fingertips stained by the dark ink.

While Rhaenyra was a famous and feared auror, one of the best out there and honored multiple times for her dangerous missions against evil, she was one of the most loving people you knew, although you had not met her personally yet. But you heard how fondly Baela and Rhaena spoke of her, how often little care packages from home arrived for Jace and Luke, the brothers living separately at Hogwarts through Luke’s division into Ravenclaw where he was friends with Rhaena, but never being found too far apart from each other.

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you and from time to time, you fed Jace some Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and made him guess the flavors while you ate some of the sherbet lemons you couldn’t get enough of.

“And?” You asked, smiling at the way Jace’s brows furrowed in concentration.

“Hmm.” Jace traced little patterns on your knee, the closest part of you he could reach as he was stretched out on the couch. “It’s minty, but there’s something else in it. Maybe- ugh, fir resin?!”

You laughed as he grimaced, handing him the next one as you laid your book aside for the night. Jace chewed on the candy for a little more than a second before he looked up at you, grinning. “Oh, easy. Your lip gloss.”

“Huh?”

“It’s cherry.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes at him affectionately before leaning down and capturing his lips with a slow kiss. Your hair framed his face and he arched up to meet you, a delicate hand on your cheek as you kissed, blind and uncaring for everything else in the world around you. Maybe you could sneak out tonight, to your little secluded spot in the greenhouse?

“Ay, keep it together, there’s kids around here.” A deep, amused voice greeted you and Jace and you separated to see Cregan sitting down in front of the sofa, a knowing grin on the Quidditch keeper’s face as he looked at the pair of you.

“Good evening, Cregan.” You said overly polite and he barked out a laugh, grabbing one of your red gummy vines for himself as Jace sat up with a slight groan, placing the letter to his mother on the little table beside you. Instinctively, you leaned into his side, snuggling beneath his arm as the softness of his red and gold sweater caressed your cheek.

“I didn’t want to interrupt the two of you-“

Jace gave him a look. “But you did.”

“-but I wanted to ask if you’re coming to the 7th year student’s farewell party for the old year?” Cregan smiled at you, a nice sight since the wolf of the north was often serious around others, all duty and honor, but a secret softie at heart. “It’s happening next weekend. There’s gonna be lots of booze and music. There’s just one tiny thing that might piss you off, Jace.”

You looked at your boyfriend who furrowed his brows. “What is it?”

“Your uncles will be there too.” Cregan confessed darkly. “I would have objected but one of the other guys thought it’d be hilarious to have their asses there. Invites are already out. Sorry, man.”

You felt Jace tense beside you, his nostrils flaring at the thought of Aegon and Aemond walking into his common room. They were a delicate subject to him and you knew about the complicated tryst within his big family divided by the Targaryen and the Hightower side. They were powerful and influential with their great dynasty of dragon riders and tamers, yet they chose to shred each other to pieces. The mistrust ran deeply and the fact that they all were part of the most influential and powerful wizard family of the country didn’t help.

Aegon and Aemond, similar to Jace and Luke, were known around the halls of Hogwarts, but unlike the dark-haired brothers, they used it to their advantage, looking down on others and bathing in their admiration and fear to equal parts. Their younger sister Helaena had become yours and the twin’s friend, but she was the only sweet soul on her side of the Targaryen family.

Earlier this year, the tensions between the boys had escalated when Aemond had provoked Luke to the point where Jace had to drag his brother away from their uncle as he threw insults at him, the fight the top gossip subject in the next weeks. You knew what they whispered about Jace and Luke. Dirty bastards. Half-bloods. To people like your parents or the Hightowers, it was an insult, a curse. It was all a bunch of bullshit.

“Hey.” You said softly and rested your hand on Jace’s arm, drawing him out of his spiraling thoughts. You knew him all too well after all and at your touch, Jace softened a little, leaning back into the deep cushions of the couch. “We want to go, right? It’s probably the last big gathering before the season’s break. Surely you won’t let them ruin your night, Jace. Let them come, their words mean nothing.”

Cregan remained silent in front of you, patiently waiting through the silent exchange between the two of you. Jace squeezed your hand in his and then nodded, turning back to Cregan. “We’ll be there. Now hit the showers, man, you still reek of training.”

Your shared friend left with a triumphant grin and as the crackling of the wooden logs took over the quietness of the room again, you sighed and sneaked your hand underneath Jace’s sweater to warm yourself, your head resting on his shoulder.

“It’ll be okay.” You murmured, knowing the matter most likely had not left Jace’s mind yet. “There will be so many other students, we likely won’t even see them all night. Our group doesn’t want to hang out with them anyway, Jace.”

“I know.” Jace replied quietly, staring into the flames, the brown of his eyes shining like embers. “It’s not just Luke or me I’m worried about. I also don’t want you to get hurt by them. They are such pieces of shit, always causing trouble, if they’ll come near you…”

“I’ll hex them.” You suggested brightly and successfully lured a smile out of your Jace. “If they’re acting up, I’ll teach them a lesson. I can be very protective of the ones I love, too, you know?”

“Yeah…” Jace smiled at you, smitten and adoring of your courage and carefreeness. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and gently cupped your cheek, getting lost in your eyes. “One of the endless reasons I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whispered back, leaning into his touch. “Screw them, we are going to have our fun, okay? Deal?”

“Deal.”

You smiled back, biting your lip in consideration. “I believe we have been doing something of most importance before Stark interrupted us, wouldn’t you agree?”

Jace laughed, back to his smiley self around you and pulled you closer by the waist. “Oh, I agree wholeheartedly.”

You sighed as Jacaerys kissed you again, his lips slowly moving against yours as shivers ran down your spine despite the warm fireplace. You tilted your head to the side, gladly letting him take over the lead and granting his tongue entrance. At your side, your bag of candy rustled, but neither of you cared as you got lost in each other, Jace making sure to show you exactly how much he loved and appreciated you before it was time to separate and go to bed…

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

When the weekend came, Jace and you met down in the common room early to have breakfast at the Great Hall together. After pancakes and oatmeal, you had met with Luke and a few of his Ravenclaw friends to take a trip to the snowy Hogsmeade.

There were no time restrictions for you anymore with the both of you being in 7th year now and you were giddy and excited during the long walk, laughing as Jace started a snowball fight with Luke when about half of the way was done.

With your destination reached, you two separated from Luke and went straight to Honeydukes while Luke went off to go to Zonko's Joke Shop. You laced your fingers together with Jace’s and pulled him into the sweets store, sighing at the delicious smell of caramel popcorn and cotton candy.

Together, you browsed through the shelves and tried the little samples of your favorites, occasionally sharing a tooth-rooting sweet kiss. You brought a bag of chocolate frogs for Baela later, who was on prefect duty today and accompanied the 3rd year students to their first Hogsmeade trip, and a small treat for Jace and you to share. At the cash register, Jace stood close beside you and sneaked one hand into the back pocket of your jeans, making you blush and smile as you paid up.

Out in the snow again, Jace stopped by at the post office to send off his letter to Rhaenyra, quickly slipping a tiny hearty bone into it, which he had shrunken with magic and would later become a very monstrous snack for his dragon Vermax. For obvious reasons, no Targaryen kid could take their dragon to Hogwarts with them and so, Jace often missed his companion, although Helaena had crocheted him a mini-version when they were in year four.

Stepping outside, Jacaerys smiled at you as you bit off a gummy red vine and kissed your red nose. “Should we go to the Three Broomsticks Inn? It’s barely afternoon, we still have time.”

You sighed leaning into his side as you began to walk. “Yes, please.” At the thought of hot chocolate and the cozy atmosphere at the inn, your heart screamed for warmth.

“Come on then.” Jace kissed your temple and laid his arm around you. “Drinks are on me.” As always when you were out with him.

Usually, at least three of Jace’s mates were hanging around the inn, but today everyone seemed to prepare for the party back at the castle, so Jace and you were on your own, slipping into your favorite booth way back in the taproom where it was quiet and always a good hideout to make out with each other.

Laughing as Jace shook out his snowy hair, you skipped the bench opposite of his right away and made yourself comfortable on his knee. After ordering two butterbeers, you dove into your bag of candy and chatted about the classes you’d have together next week and what homework still needed to be finished until then. You were entirely uninterrupted here, in your own little world as Jace lazily caressed your body and peppered your neck with little kisses, the busy noises from the main room not reaching you at all.

All too soon, it was time to make your way back. The snow had fallen thickly overnight and there was no doubt now that Christmas was approaching fast. At your side, Jace laughed at you as you stuck out your tongue and tried to catch a snowflake with it, his feet nearly slipping on a frozen puddle which made you giggle in return.

You always had liked the path leading back from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, mostly because Jace and you could be alone and chat without anyone listening, especially the lower year’s little reporters who often wanted his opinions for their magazines. Now, you were walking hand in hand as Jace carried your purchases from the village for you when suddenly, your beloved owl came into view below the clouds and fir trees near the road.

“What’s Darling doing here?” Jace looked at you with curiosity as the owl briefly sat down on your shoulder and let an envelope sink into your hand. With a quick feathery nuzzle against your cheek, she launched herself into the air again and took off to the tower where she lived with her companions.

You stared down at the letter in your hands.

The paper was a tasteful black and dark blue and when you saw your own initials on the unbroken seal up front, you knew exactly who had sent you mail on the weekend.

“I’ll open it later.” You smiled blandly at Jace, stuffing the letter into the pocket of your coat and taking his hand again to walk back to the castle with him. “Let’s go, we’ll miss dinner if we loiter.”

Hours later, you were staring into space, zoned out although the large room around you was crowded and very much in the best party mood possible. The common room was full to the brim, chatter and music from the old stereo in the corner buzzing in your room. Everyone had wanted to join the last unofficial party of the year before going home to their families and students kept pouring in through the open door.

In the crowd, you could spot Baela and Rhaena, laughing with Luke and handing out little glasses with a suspiciously green content that smelled sharply of mint and liquor. Cregan had found a comfy spot in one of the big armchairs, passionately kissing a girl from Hufflepuff while some of your other friends were dancing carefreely.

Just yesterday, you would’ve been one of them.

But the words of your mother from the letter were replaying themselves in your mind over and over again.

The message towards you had been short and clear, yet full of hidden meaning; Your father and I expect you to join us for the holidays this year. We are to be guests at the Hightower’s estate. They are a respectable family and good allies of us and you will do your best to impress Alicent’s sons. A match with a powerful heir like they are is only suited and overdue for a young woman like you. We expect you home on the afternoon of the 21th.

In need to quieten the noise in your mind, you chugged your shot of firewhisky back, grimacing at the strong taste exploding on your tongue and squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. There was a familiar touch to your side and you were snapped out of your thoughts as Jace came up behind you, sneaking both his arms around your waist and drawing you closer.

“Hey, beautiful.” He murmured in your ear, pecking your cheek affectionately. “Is everything alright?”

You took a deep breath and turned around in his arms. Becoming a little weak in the knees at the sight of your handsome boyfriend, you nodded and leaned close as his hands stroked up your spine and played with your hair. In his dark red sweater and freshly washed hair, he looked particularly good tonight, a slight flush of warmth painting his cheeks.

“I’m just a little sleepy.” It wasn’t a lie, not really. “I think the trip to Hogsmeade today tired me out a little.”

Jace looked at you with soft eyes, lowering his voice and offering: “We could go upstairs and cuddle, if you want? It’s just a stupid party.”

Your heart melted at his offer, the knowledge he’d drop everything to make sure you were comfortable doing something to your already tender being today. Jacaerys made you so happy…why couldn’t your parents simply see that and accept it? You silently scolded yourself for returning to your parents again. You were eager to forget about all of it for the night, not sulk in your misery and let them deny you the fun you deserved to have.

You shook your head, a real smile on your face this time as you nudged him into the direction of the improvised dance floor. “I’m fine. Let’s have some fun, come on.”

Jace let himself be pulled into the crowd, his eyes traveling over your tights and the short, checkered skirt you wore tonight, your top a classy roll collar so no one could make fun of the hickeys he had left on you earlier today at the inn. Just as if it was the first time, he looked at you with so much love in his dark eyes, you forgot all your worries as he snaked his arm around your waist and you placed your head on his shoulder.

You swayed to the beat in his arms, allowing yourself to just be as Jace played with the soft edges of your hair, breathing your sweet perfume in and stroking his thumb over your side. Over his shoulder, you smiled back at the twins as Baela fumbled with her polaroid camera and quietly took a snap of you.

As you danced with Jacaerys, you were happy.

If only it could stay like this forever.

Further into the night, when the spontaneous bar in front of the fireplace had switched over to harder liquor one of Cregan’s guys had managed to somehow sneak past McGonagall, you stood together with your girls. Clinking your bubbly glass flutes, the pocket of your skirt kept the polaroid of Jace and you safe for the rest of the party and you caught Jace’s eye from across the room, gesturing that you were going to go to the bathroom real quick. He nodded and you excused yourself, walking down the corridor outside of the common room. Earlier, you had seen one of your roommates sneak off into the girl’s bathroom with a guy from Slytherin and you were not eager to walk in on them.

You walked down the hall, rubbing your arms against the cold of the walls when suddenly, a dark silhouette stepped out from one of the niches.

“Needed a breather as well?” Aegon smiled cooly at you, stubbing out his cig against the stone wall next to him. He watched you closely as you stopped, not sure how to assess the situation. His face was flushed, but otherwise he seemed to be not as drunk as normally during parties, which surprised you.

You gave him a curt nod. “Aegon.” As you tried to walk past him, he stepped into your way, holding up a hand.

“Truly, I’m delighted to see you, I must say.” A foul grin took over his features and you stepped back once more, the faint whiff of alcohol from him now hitting you. “My mother just sent me a letter about you today, you know? Got mail from home, too?”

You glared darkly at him, a look of despise Jace would’ve been proud of. “None of your business.”

“Oh, come on.” Aegon snorted, winking. “If the relations between our families are blossoming, we should get acquainted sooner rather than later, don’t you agree? Or perhaps, I can introduce you to my brother Aemond, if you prefer? My mother mentioned your parents aren’t particularly picky when it comes to a match for you. And Christmas is just around the corner…”

You froze.

He knew.

You stared at him, your clenched fists trembling with anger at his nonchalant and disrespectful manners, his eyes looking you over as if you were a prize he already had won.

“Come on, it’s about time you surround yourself with people of your status.” Aegon tried again, not letting you off so easily.

“I would rather die.” You spat out, glaring daggers at him and just as Aegon opened his mouth and took an abrupt step towards you, quick steps echoed down the hall. You whipped your head around and saw Jacaerys, stalking towards you and his uncle with fire in his eyes and a tense jaw.

“Ah, nephew!” Aegon greeted him cheerily, although a disgusted snarl now tugged at the edge of his mouth. “Me and your girl were just talking-“

“Shut up.” You hissed in warning, your hand itching to grab your wand which you wore tugged into the warm leather of your knee-high boot. A second later, Jace was at your side and rested his hand on your waist, protectively drawing you close.

“Are you okay?” He looked at you searchingly, his eyes flickering across your face with worry. “Leave her the fuck alone, Aegon.”

“We were just conversing. Is that forbidden now?”

Jace took a threatening step towards him and you knew your quick-tempered boyfriend wouldn’t hesitate to throw a spell against his uncle if he said another wrong word, although the consequences would likely be gravely. You remembered the day both Rhaenyra and Alicent had been summoned to the castle because of the fistfight between their sons…there was no need for a repeat performance.

“Jace.” You pleaded quickly, holding him back from doing something honorable and very, very stupid. Aegon grinned brightly at the two of you, clearly thrilled by the way you tugged Jace back by his arm, stepping between the two men. Under your breath, you mumbled: “Don’t. It’s exactly what he wants. It was nothing, I’m okay. Come on, let’s go, come.”

Jacaerys tore his murderous gaze away from Aegon and let himself be led away, his hand holding yours tightly as you brought more and more distance between them. Only when you reached the entrance door to Gryffindor House, you felt him exhale, yet the tension did not leave his body entirely.

You threw one last look over your shoulder and shuddered at Aegon’s vicious smile.

You were in desperate need of another drink.

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

You rubbed your gloved hands together as a fierce breeze brushed against you, caused by the formation of Quidditch players on their brooms flying past you, Rhaena and Helaena. The girls and you sat huddled together on the bleachers by the Quidditch field, your wand steadily held up to produce a small magical fire in front of you.

Today’s quidditch training was in full swing and occasionally, you cheered Baela and Jace on as they chased across the field, spurred on by Cregan’s massive form flying from goal to goal to defend their score. In a few days, there was a match against Slytherin and none of them intended to lose against Aegon and Aemond before the year would end.

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of marshmallows.” Rhaena said regretfully and Heleana huffed out a laugh, her quick fingers skillfully knitting a new scarf. You for yourself had concentrated yourself on the black cat in your lap, which belonged to Rhaena since she had no luck yet in securing a dragon for herself back at home. Your friend bumped you into the side. “We could’ve made smores!”

Over your heads, Jacaerys halted on his broom, shouting encouraging commands before he flew on. Your eyes followed him across the field, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Next year, I promise I’ll bring chocolate.”

Silently, Helaena suddenly reached into her fluffy jacket and produced two chocolates bars from her pockets, making both you and Rhaena gasp in delight.

“Hel, you’re the best!”

You waved at Jace from the distance, wiggling triumphantly with the chocolate in your hand as your flames danced, and you swore you could’ve heard his laugh echo through the air.

“Are you fit for the Astronomy exam next Tuesday?” Rhaena asked, nervously biting her lip. “I feel like I got no clue about anything.”

“It’s not that complicated.” Helaena chimed in softly.

“Helaena, I love you, but you are close to being a medium, your opinion doesn’t count.” Suddenly, an idea crossed Rhaena’s mind and you laughed at her stunned expression. “Teach me, please, and I’ll help you with Transfiguration next week.”

“That’s cheating.” You sing-songed, earning a glare. “What? The only reason I passed the last History of Magic test is simply because my boyfriend is a massive nerd.” Your tutoring lessons with Jace had taken a while to become efficient though, since you two were easily distracted by each other’s closeness and often, your books had fallen off your bed during a heated make out session with him.

Rhaena groaned, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I’m glad when all of this is over, I can’t wait until Christmas break. Our grandparents will visit and we’ll all be together. What about you, guys?”

“I wish we’d spend Christmas together again…” Helaena mumbled, lost in her knitting. It was true, Jace and the twins only really saw Helaena at Hogwarts. Rhaenyra and Alicent only saw each other during brief encounters at the Ministry and it was better for everyone if Daemon didn’t see any of the Hightowers at all, really.

Rhaena looked guiltily at you before clearing her throat. “How about you? Any fun Christmas plans?”

It took all your strength to not meet Helaena’s worried gaze beside you. If Aegon knew about your parents’ plans, then so did she and you were not going to deal with this whole matter in front of your friends, especially since you kept all of this from Jace and intended to keep it that way.

You thoughtfully petted Rhaena’s cat, willing the dryness in your throat away. “You know, so far there’s been-“

“Oh, look who it is!”

A lightning bolt of black and red shot towards you, making the three of you squeal as Jacaerys slowed down on his broom and stopped right in front of the grandstand railing. His dark hair was disheveled by the wind and he looked like a prince in his Quidditch uniform, proud and sturdy with one of the quaffles tucked beneath his arm.

“Hi.” He grinned brightly at you as you wordlessly stuck out a hand to give him a piece of chocolate, one he took gladly but not without kissing your gloved knuckles first. From the distance, he had admired you longingly, the sight of you dressed in your bright coat and warm beanie close to the one of a princess. Jace could never stay away from you for long.

“Shouldn’t you play the game?” You challenged him and he looked over to Cregan, who already gestured him to rejoin practice.

“A kiss first.”

Rhaena and Helaena groaned in unison.

You gracefully stood, black cat still in your arms as you leaned over the railing and softly kissed Jace’s lips. He held perfectly still, the press of his lips on yours featherlight as you tucked a curl of his behind his ear.

For only a moment, the suppressed tension in you left your body and you only felt Jace, a high worth chasing for, even if it meant to lose yourself. But just as quickly as it rushed into you, it left with Jace whispering goodbye against you before he had to fly on.

It seemed like the weight sank back onto your shoulders the smaller he became in the sky…

As if the universe had somehow read your mind and decided to do you a great favor, Jacaerys took you to the Prefect’s bathroom in the late afternoon after training. While Jace as a head boy was mostly almost annoyingly responsible and accurate, he and you had often abused his privileges to sneak off into the luxurious hidden bathroom on the fifth floor.

When he had to calm down after a big game or you both needed a break during exam season, you retreated into the big swimming pool, where you sometimes washed his hair for him or he kneaded your legs for you while you told him stories sitting on the edge of the pool.

On other occasions, Jace and you simply were ridiculously horny, such as now.

Currently, you were in his lap, rhythmically rolling your hips as your tongues danced with each other. The hot water of the bath gently splashed against the edges and your hand curled into his wet hair, making him groan in pleasure. Jace’s sounds, his taste in your mouth was addictive, his passionate kisses making you drunk in a way no firewhisky ever could.

You needed to feel him until you completely forgot yourself.

And you were on a pretty good way to get there.

A breathy moan escaped your lips, your half-lidded eyes fixed on his angelic face as you rode his fingers deep inside of you. Jace was holding out a hand beneath your thighs, two of his digits fingering you sensually as his thumb played with your aching clit, luring the sweetest sounds from you.

“Such a good girl…” Jace purred, biting his plump lip as he watched you bounce in his lap. He leaned close, wrapping his lips around your rosy bud, softly biting into your flesh as you moaned loudly from the hot sensation. “Riding my fingers so well, such a sweet angel for me...”

Ever since Jacaerys and you had become a couple, you knew him as a slow and very thorough lover, always attentive and selfless when it came to sleeping together. With the slow roll of his hips and the endless praise, he could make you cry with bliss, dragging out the experience until you’d shatter into pieces in his arms.

But today, you needed him hard.

A part of you wanted him to spin you around and pull you down on his hard length, passionately fucking up into you until you had nothing left in you except for your love for him. But you knew Jace all too well for that.

So, you doubled down your efforts and tried to fuck yourself harder on his fingers.

Jace chuckled, love-drunk on you as he noticed your change of pace. “Eager, are we?” He crooked his fingers inside of you and you mewled, burying your face in his neck as you ground forwards, your tender walls convulsing around him.

“J-Jace…” You sighed, feeling your peak approach as he sucked at the sensitive sweet spot on your neck, his arm coming around you to press you closer against him as he kept on fingering you.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Jace mumbled in awe, tilting your chin up so he could look into your hazy eyes, his own cheeks flushed by the heat and your sight in his lap. “I know you’re close, sweetheart, come on, just a little more, let go for me, angel…”

That was all you needed to hear.

You came, stifling the desperate sounds in your throat by biting down on his shoulder, your thighs quivering as Jace softly talked you through your high, his fingers slowly stilling their movements inside of you. You squeezed your eyes shut, collapsing against him and breathing heavily into his neck.

In the afterglow of your orgasm, Jace pulled you close to his chest and held you tightly, his nose brushing against your cheek as he hummed in satisfaction. As your breath slowly began to calm down again, he let his hand wander up and down your back, especially giving a few tender spots attention as he massaged you until you nearly drooled on his shoulder with relish.

Never in your life had you felt as safe and wanted as you did in Jacaerys’ arms.

“So good…” Jace praised you, completely neglecting his own need that was still very apparent between his legs. “I love you so much, you did wonderfully, baby.”

You shivered, too aware of the sudden knot in your throat to say anything yet. For a while, the two of you simply relaxed like this, Jace’s hand cupping the water ever so often to pour over your naked back so you wouldn’t get cold. You were wound around him like a koala, unwilling to separate yet.

“I was wondering…” You hummed, signaling him you were listening, although you were still floaty. You could feel him smile near your neck, nuzzling the wet skin briefly before he quietly spoke: “…if there’s anything you’d like for Christmas?”

Your breath faltered, but you recovered quickly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. What did you want for Christmas? You wanted to burn your family’s manor to the ground.

To buy yourself more time, you absently kissed Jace’s jaw and licked the sensitive spot under his ear, which made him hiss and stifle a groan under his breath. You carefully paid attention to his reactions, how his hands on your waist tightened briefly and he exhaled shakily, his cock between your thighs stiffening even more until you could almost feel it throbbing against you.

“I want you.” You huskily whispered in his ear. Your fingertips brushed over his tip.

Jace let out a low moan, but shook his head. “You can have me all the time. Something special, think about it.”

“You are special…” You contradicted, kissing him briefly before leaning back in his lap and slowly beginning to stroke him from root to tip, his whole body tensing and relaxing at your much desired touch. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He had no idea how true it was…

“Baby, f-fuck…” Jace breathed, his head falling back and mouth opening to a blissful little o. The wetness between your thighs returned quickly as you jerked him off beneath the surface, the water making the slide of your hand over his curved dick so much better, more intense than you could ever achieve it with spit.

His breath hitched deliciously as you twisted your wrist and pressed little bites and kisses to his chest, Jace’s body and soul exposed and willing just for you. You needed to get him off, needed to convince you that this was forever, that he wasn’t just going to disappear if you closed your eyes for a second too long. You needed to hear your name on his lips, a plea or praise, you didn’t care. You needed to lose yourself in him until everything was alright again.

And so, you continued to take good care of him, until the roaring inside your chest quietened and Jace’s hips bucked into your touch, only his sweet and whiny moans filling the steamy air of the baths around you…

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

A freezing cold winter wind blew over the field as the last Quidditch game of the year was in full swing. Gryffindor against Slytherin always drew the most attention and today, every last seat on the grandstands was filled, the crowd of students and teachers from the castle divided into red and green.

You pulled your scarf tighter around yourself as you squinted your eyes against the brightness of the sky, trying to see what your boy was up to up there. Beside you, Rhaena and Luke cheered, spurring Jace and Baela on as they raced towards Slytherin’s goal, passing the quaffle between them before Jace got it and swung it forcefully towards the golden ring.

The crowd erupted with applause and shouts as Jace raised his fist, shouting as Baela and the other players flew past him with cheers. You smiled up at your boyfriend, his joy and pride, before they moved on to defend their goal keeper Cregan now.

“And that’s another goal for Jace Velaryon, ten points for Gryffindor in this very much exciting last game of the season!”

After all, the game was not only so popular because of your rivaling houses. It was also because Jace was playing against both of his uncles, two of the most dreaded beaters of their year.

Today, they had seemed to make themselves the goal to give Jacaerys absolute hell on the field. The brothers were terrors on their brooms, completely ignoring Gryffindor’s seeker and racing after Jacaerys who was trying his best to avoid them in order to score more points for his team.

“What the hell are they doing?” Luke muttered beside you, looking unsure.

Your eyes stayed on Jace who once again looked over his shoulder to see Aegon and Aemond at his heels. “They’re trying to confuse Jace. This isn’t good, something is wrong.”

Dark letter envelopes swirled through your mind, words of your father who demanded for you to end things with Jace before Christmas so you’d be agreeable for the Hightowers. So far, you had not replied to them once and as the realization hit you, you wanted to vomit on the stands. This was the Hightowers’ revenge, to hurt Jace to show you what was at stake.

You saw Aegon lift his wooden club, a determined serpent-like grin on his face as Aemond threw something up in the air for him. You sprang up from your seat, shrieking: “Watch out!”

A shocked gasp went through the crowd as Jace was nearly hit by a bludger, only avoiding it at the last second by dodging it quickly and stirring his broom downwards, losing the quaffle in the process.

“These stupid idiots.” Luke cursed, gritting his teeth. “Why isn’t this called out? They have no business attacking a chaser like this!”

“It seems like there is a personal family feud happening in the sky today, remember to play fair and respect each other.” The commentator called out nervously, the game continuing although Cregan was fiercely discussing and gesturing with the referee on the side of the round field. But today, one of the profs Aegon and Aemond had called the game; everything was possible.

You were on edge, the cold breeze messing with your hair as you followed the game, always keeping an eye out for what Aegon and Aemond were up to. Luckily, they seemed to only mean to scare Jace, keeping the rest of their game pretty tame except for a few harsh bumps into his shoulder when they flew past their nephew.

You could tell Jacaerys kept himself in the background for a while, weary of the brutal energy from the opposite team, letting Baela take the lead and score a row of perfect goals for Gryffindor. When the final whistle echoed across the field, your fellow house members erupted into joyous shouts and a sigh of relief left you as Jacaerys celebrated with his team members.

As everyone on both teams descended down onto the field’s ground again, Jacaerys quickly flew over to where you stood, grinning triumphantly and leaning over the railing to kiss you fiercely. When you rested your hand on his shoulder for balance, you felt him wince.

“Your shoulder?” You whispered as Luke patted his other one and the others around you congratulated him.

Jace shrugged, crooking a smile at you. “Barely a scrape.”

Your eyes widened. “They hit you?”

“It’s alright.” He pecked your cold cheek before Cregan yelled from somewhere under you to get his ass over here and he had to leave. “Don't worry, okay?”

Easier said than done.

When the Quidditch team returned to the castle, you were already waiting for Jace, a small jar with a cooling herb cream resting in your lap. While your friends shared speculoos and hot chocolate by the fire, Jace was sitting in front of you on the soft carpet, leaning into your touch as you applied the salve to his bruised shoulder. You tried to keep up with the conversations around you, but your mind kept trailing off.

Was your life going to look like this from now on, constantly threatened and your love in danger and a target until you’d stop revolting against your parents’ orders?

That night, you found yourself unable to sleep, staring off at the ceiling of the bedroom’s tower and listening to the wind outside. Everyone had gone to bed early and you had tried to read a little, but found no joy in it. Everything had turned out fine in the end today, why couldn’t you simply let it go?

You sighed, shifting to lay on your side, and stared at the picture frame on your nightstand. There were a few photos of Jace and you in there, but the one you liked most had been taken by the Great Lake earlier this year. You had fallen asleep with your head on Jace’s thigh, your hands still laced together, and he lovingly looked down at you, keeping watch as you found rest.

You stared at the photograph for a long time, but your eyes wouldn’t droop. With a frustrated sigh, you slipped out of bed and out onto the stairwell. But instead of going to the common room, you walked upstairs.

You held your breath as you opened the door to the boys’ bedroom, sneaking in on your tiptoes and squinting your eyes so you wouldn’t stumble over anything on your way to Jace’s bed. You stopped, taking a moment to look at his peaceful, sleeping form. He always had his mouth open a little bit, adorably curled into himself on his side as his chest rose and fell slowly.

A part of you regretted having come here, not wanting to disturb his well-deserved sleep, but another selfish part of you needed him close, to assure yourself everything would be okay in the end.

On his bed, Jacaerys shifted and let out a tiny groan, blinking his eyes open at you. Standing there in your sleeping clothes, you looked like a little ghost and his heart skipped an excited beat at you being here.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” You whispered into the darkness, fearing your voice would break if you raised it any higher. The sounds of ruffling sheets filled the room as Jace shuffled over and made space for you, opening his arms without any hesitation.

“Of course, love. C’mere, ‘s cold…”

You slipped underneath the covers, sighing as you were enveloped by Jace’s warmth, your boyfriend immediately pulling you against him and snuggling his face into your neck. You slung your arm around his waist and breathed him in, trying to keep the dark thoughts swirling through your mind at bay.

He smelled like home.

He was your home and who could promise that you wouldn’t lose him eventually?

“Did you dream badly?” Jace whispered into your hair and you shook your head, clinging only tighter to him. You wanted to crawl underneath his sleeping shirt, to melt into him until you’d never been seen again.

“…just needed you.” You mumbled tiredly, your nerves calming down a little as Jace caressed you lightly in the dark. He hummed against your temple and kissed your cheek, not interpreting too much into your small words. “Go to sleep again, it’s okay…”

You closed your eyes too, swallowing against the vulnerable tightness in your throat as you slowly felt Jace drift off into sleep again. You internally scolded yourself to get it together, not wanting to risk any hot tears falling upon Jace’s skin. If you tried hard enough, you could pretend just a little longer that you weren’t breaking apart right in his protecting arms…

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

In the final two weeks before Christmas, you were sure you were slowly losing it.

As you prepared for the final exams of the year – no professor really having mercy on their oldest students at the castle – a final letter from your parents reached you, with instructions on which fireplace to use in Knockturn Alley to floo-powder travel home. Before that, you were to go to Madame Malkin to pick up a gown, which you were supposed to wear during the dinner to impress Alicent’s sons. The humiliating orders of your parents paired with the stress of all the exams you still had to ace quickly left you spiraling, causing you to retreat into yourself and neglect your friends.

More and more, they all began to talk about going home for Christmas and involuntarily, you had started to snap easily, wanting to be left alone to focus on your work to avoid their questions.

You watched the rain pour down outside of the windows, the busy chattering of the rest of your class like white noise in your ear. You had woken up tired already this morning and now you were stuck in potions class, the one you shared with Jace.

The thoughts about the upcoming holidays and an inevitable confrontation with your parents were eating you alive and you couldn’t concentrate, reading over the recipe of the potion you were supposed to make over and over again without understanding the words.

Beside you, Jacaerys worked away on his own kettle, but he had been keeping watch of you for a while now, gnawing at his bottom lip with concern.

Since the Quidditch game, he could feel you slowly slipping from his grasp, distancing yourself when you spent time with your friends and going to bed early and getting up late. You fell asleep in the common room often, in his arms where he could see the dark circles underneath your eyes or alone on the couch by the fire until he had to wake you up for dinner. You ate less than usual and were only seen around in his hoodies, staring into space and daydreaming.

Jace worried about you, but you seemed not very eager to share your worries with him. In retrospect, he could now see that you had been retreating into yourself for a while now and he hated himself for not seeing it earlier. Now it seemed, all he could do was to be there for you and show he was listening if you wanted to open up to him.

“Remember, students, the mixture we are making today is intended to be only brewed by seventh year students for a reason!” Your professor walked between the aisles, peeking into a few kettles here and there. “You are to handle it with utmost carefulness.”

Jace noticed you staring at the parchment in front of you, your eyes not moving to read. He leaned over, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Baby? Could you hand me the goat hair you got over there?”

You perked up and his heart clenched at your glassy eyes, your pale skin. You rummaged around in the boxes you had been given, attempting a smile as you gave the vial to him. “There you go.”

He let his fingers brush over yours for a moment before you retreated, going back to your own potion. Jace suppressed a sigh, catching Baela’s eyes from across the room who had been watching the small exchange. They were all worried about you and you knew.

If you didn’t find a way to prevent the forging of the poisonous band your family planned for you, you were not only going to lose yourself. You were going to lose every single one of your friends. Your hands started shaking at the thought of them despising you, avoiding you in Hogwarts and having to pick up the broken pieces you would leave between Jace and you when you eventually would have to end things before you hurt him even further…

You shuddered, grabbing one of the smoking glasses in the middle of the table for your kettle. What would Jace think if he saw one of his uncles and you, on the first page of the Daily Prophet, announcing the union between the Hightowers and your family-

The glass slipped from your grasp, the contents briefly sloshing against your hand before it all shattered on the ground.

The students around you gasped, taking a step back in fright while Jace took one closer to you, reaching out a hand. You heard him speaking to you, hushed and fast, but you couldn’t comprehend what he said as you looked at your hand in shock.

Burning streaks painted the palm of your hand red as if you had attempted and failed badly to catch a whip mid-air. You stared at the wound in disbelief for a moment.

Then, the pain came.

“Oh my goodness, hold on everyone, reparo!” The professor hurried over to your side and you silently watched as the broken glass to your feet levitated up on the table until all the liquor was back inside and sat perfectly in front of you. “What have I told you about handling this ingredient carefully?”

“Professor, she’s hurt.” Jace said, his voice dripping with worry for you. You could not look into his eyes, afraid of what you’d find in them. “She needs to go to the infirmary.”

You tried to take a steady breath and to your own shock, a little sob escaped your lips instead, just barely audible. The burn on your hand felt like wildfire spreading, but there was something else aching in you too, the stress and worries of the last week making it all worse. You knew if you’d stayed, you’d break down in front of everyone in the class.

You were not going to let them see.

Brushing off Jace’s hand on your shoulder, you made your way straight towards the door, not looking back despite the protests of your professor and Jace calling out your name. You tried to blink away the hot tears burning in your eyes, clutching your shaking hand close to your chest, but by the time you nearly ran down the corridor, they were already overflowing.

It was all too much.

Behind you, you heard Jace sprinting down the hallway after you and your chest only tightened, panicked at the thought of him seeing you like this. Just as you wanted to take a corner and disappear out of his sight, he reached out, gently touching your arm and holding you back.

“Baby, you need to go to the infirmary, Madame Pomfrey has to take a look at that.” Jace insisted emphatically, turning you around to face him. “Let me walk you-…”

You stared at your feet, not meeting his eyes as he took in your miserable state. Your nose already felt stuffy and your head hurt from keeping down your tears, heart pounding achingly in your chest. Jace opened his mouth to say something, shocked and worried to see you so sorrowfully.

“What’s going on, love?” He asked softly, stepping in front of you and shielding you from a group of passing students. You pressed your lips together, unable to answer and shaking your head instead. Jacaerys gently laid his arm around you, careful not to brush against your hurt hand, quickly thinking about what this all meant.

“Let’s go to Madame Pomfrey together, okay?” He said gently. “She needs to look at this, I bet it hurts, huh?”

At his soft tone with you, you let out a tiny whimper, hiding your face in his shoulder as he shushed you comfortingly, starting to walk with you. “Sh sh, it’s going to be alright, I promise. We need to cool this, c’mon, we’re halfway there, okay?”

You let yourself be led by him, exhausted and not strong enough anymore to keep up the act that everything was fine. On your way through the hallways, you disassociated a little, Jace’s arm around you and his whispered comforts the only thing keeping you halfway in the present moment. At least there was no one else at Madam Pomfrey’s desk, saving you from further humiliation.

“Hello dear, what can I- oh goodness, what has happened?” The elderly woman came around the table and inspected your hand.

“We were in Potions and one of the ingredients spilled.” Jace explained calmly, although his voice trembled. He led you towards one of the chairs by the entrance of the hall, staying by your side as the nurse took your hand and cooed compassionately. “I think it was a burn potion?”

“Yes, it looks like it.” Madame Pomfrey looked at you. “You must be in great pain, my dear.”

You had been for a long time.

“It’s nothing that’ll leave a permanent mark, we’ll cool this and then there’s a potion that should help as well overnight, hold on.” You watched silently as she returned with a slick cloth and hissed as she slowly placed it down on your palm. Jace’s hand on your shoulder caressed you soothingly and you bit your lip through the pain, not wanting to make a sound.

After she had wrapped your hand, Madame Pomfrey left for her potion cabinet, leaving Jace and you alone. Your hand throbbed dully, but the pain was slowly fading away and Jace sat down beside you, gently taking your other hand in his.

“Will you talk to me?” He asked quietly and without pressure. “I can tell something is wrong, dear. There has been for a while now, hasn’t it?”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair and playing with your hand in his. Closing your red eyes in defeat, you told him. “My parents have written to me to come home over Christmas. They want me to meet the Hightowers with them to-…They think a match with either Aegon or Aemond will be beneficial for the family.”

Jace exhaled, the expression on his face unreadable as he clenched his jaw.

“I-“ You searched for the words you had kept down for so long. “They don’t care for my opinion at all. I’m just a valuable chess piece and they move me however they want for their own wealth and station. It doesn’t matter what I want or what I think and- I’m going to lose you and everyone will hate me, this is only the beginning of their schemes, I know it-“

Jace stopped you in your rambling and wordlessly took you into his arms, his hands itching to take his wand and simply hex your sorrow away. Something in you broke at his gentle embrace and you slumped against him, letting the tears flow as he brushed over your hair and kissed the top of your head.

“You’re not ever going to lose me, love.” He murmured, his need to comfort you clashing against the rage he nurtured for the other side of his family. “I’m not going to let this happen.”

“Me neither.” You sniffled hopelessly, looking up at him through glassy eyes. “I would rather die than engage with them. But I’m scared of what they’ll do if I don’t comply. If you’re getting hurt because of me, I will lose it.”

You felt yourself hyperventilating, but Jace took your tear-streaked face between his hands and deeply looked at you, making you focus entirely on him. “Hey, hey. No one will get hurt, okay? I promise you this, you will not lose me, my love. No matter what happens, me and my family will have your back. We’re adults now, we’re graduating next year, no one can tell you anything or force you to an arrangement like this. You only belong to yourself and I will not let them take you from me, alright?”

You nodded miserably, remembering your bandaged hand just before you wanted to wipe your cheek. Jacaerys smiled softly at you, brushing the tears away from you and kissing your forehead.

“Is this why you have been so distant recently?” Jace asked gently and you nodded in defiance.

“I didn’t mean to.” You said guiltily. “I was just so stressed and…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Jace said, drawing you close again and resting your head on his shoulder. “I just wished I could’ve helped you earlier, you don’t have to go through this alone. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You sniffled one last time before the last of your tears tried and you felt a little lighter on the inside. Squeezing his hand, you took a deep breath while the two of you sat huddled together in the silence of the hospital wing.

After a while, the pain in your hand had retreated almost all the way and you longed for your bed. You let out a small yawn and Jace chuckled, nuzzling his cheek against your head.

“You know, if I would’ve known, I would’ve asked you this so much earlier.” Jace shook his head, softly cupping your cheek and stroking your heated skin. “Will you spend Christmas with me? You can stay over at my family’s home for the entire holidays, we have enough space. I’ve been thinking about it for some time now and I want you there with all of us, more than ever now. My mother would be delighted to have you, we all would. And I can’t have you going to your parents now, I just can’t. Hey, please don’t cry again.”

You laughed watery, not able to stop the emotional tears from coming. You were overwhelmed by Jace’s question, how much love laid in his proposal and you couldn’t stop your heart from screaming out yes, yes, yes.

You pressed your forehead against Jace’s, playing with his hair as you smiled. “Yes. It would be an honor to be with your family for the holidays. I want to spend Christmas with you, if you’ll have me.”

“I always will. My home is yours.” Jace mumbled softly, wanting to press a kiss to your nose.

“And you are mine.” You whispered back and were quicker, pulling him down into a slow kiss and putting all of what you felt in that moment into it as your lips slowly moved against each other, Jace’s hand resting on your waist while the other disappeared in your hair, tilting your head to the side.

You’d protect him just as he was going to protect you.

And as you two kissed and Madame Pomfrey eventually walked in on you, the way Jacaerys jumped even made you giggle, you knew you were going to be alright.

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

On Christmas morning, you woke up in the arms of the love of your life.

Above you, there was a beautiful hanging mobile, its little dragons dancing in the warm morning sun. You smiled, enjoying the way the sunbeams fell onto the checkered thick blankets of the bed, how the old heater by the window crackled and the quiet sounds of the house made it feel like a real home.

Stifling a little yawn, you nestled back into Jace’s embrace, your boyfriend still in dreamland as you slowly took in your surroundings. Jacaerys was plastered against your back, one of his arms slung over you and resting protectively on your stomach underneath his shirt you had stolen. The other rested under your head as a pillow for you and you noticed with amusement how his hand twitched from time to time while he was dreaming.

Jace’s childhood bedroom was exactly how you had imagined it to be.

On a big shelf in front of his bed were countless books on magical history and dragons, whether they were biographies or travel reports, the great novels of famous wizards and witches and tales he had read when he was younger. On the walls were photos of his family and friends at Hogwarts and you, again and again and again, smiling back at yourself from every corner of the room. His closet was a neat mix of hoodies – which you wanted to take with you, preferably all of them – casual clothes and more elegant things to wear for official gatherings of his well-known family.

Underneath the covers of his twin-size bed, you felt safe, sheltered from the rest of the world and you sighed happily, snuggling your cheek against his bicep just as Jace stirred behind you.

You turned in his arms and you felt as if your heart was golden when the morning sun reflected in Jace’s brown eyes blinking sleepily at you.

“Good morning.” You whispered, a besotted smile on your face as Jace’s face scrunched up and he quickly turned his head so he wouldn’t yawn in your face.

You laughed quietly, snuggling closer to him underneath the thick blanket you shared and tangling your legs together. Jace sighed blissfully and pecked your cheek as he brushed your hair back behind your ear. Your hand had been healed for several days now. “’morning, beautiful. Merry Christmas.”

You smiled, although a little sadness remained inside of you. Maybe it was not ever going to leave again. “Merry Christmas, Jace.”

Ever since you had arrived at the town house of Jacaerys’ family in London, the Targaryens had done everything to give you a warm welcome after you had never showed up at Knockturn Alley to throw a hand of floo-powder to the fire. Jace’s brothers had been particularly excited to meet you, the girl on Jace’s photos and his mind when he was home during summer, and his mother and step-father had been pleased to finally meet you as well.

Two days ago, far in the evening when you had sat close to Jace in the living room and listened to one of Rhaenys’ stories as glasses of cherry wine were shared and candles lit, a final letter from your parents had reached you.

Seven simple words on paper for all eternity.

You are no daughter of ours anymore.

While you had stared wordlessly at the message in your lap, Rhaenyra and Daemon quickly had sent everyone else to bed until only the adults, Jace and you remained. A whirlwind of emotions had rushed through you then and before you knew what came over you, it was like a dam had broken and you were crying. With Jace’s arm securely around you as he softly whispered into your ear and Rhaenyra reaching over to hold your hand, you had mourned the relationship you never had with your parents, the tears both suffocating and freeing you at once.

You were released from their clutches, after all.

And you had been lucky enough to find your real family along the way.

After that, when Jace and you had gone to bed and you had slept through the entire night, the holidays had been going splendidly. And when Rhaenyra had assured you during breakfast that you stood under her family’s protection now, you knew you were going to be okay.

For the first time, you truly felt at home.

You went for walks around the neighborhood, building snowmen with Jace’s little twin brothers and making hot chocolates for everyone in the afternoons. You made gingerbread houses with Baela and Rhaena and asked Rhaenyra all about her career as an auror. Daemon you had beat at Wizard’s chess, leaving him speechless while Jacaerys cackled in the background.

One afternoon, Jace’s family had left the house for some last errand running before Christmas and he had loved you in front of the fireplace, slowly eating you out and letting his hands wander over your naked body on the furs...You had rode him until the two of you were breathless and you had almost drooled on Jace’s shoulder in bliss as he had rocked into you at a toe-curling slow pace.

You smiled at the memory, happily closing your eyes and leaning into his touch when Jace started to softly kiss your neck, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist as he pulled you half-atop of him. Like this, your leg was hooked over his side and his hand cupped your cheek, keeping you close while he ravished you with little kisses.

“Jace, we should go downstairs…” You breathed, your eyes fluttering closed and mouth dropping open as Jacaerys paid special attention to the sweet spot on your neck now, nibbling at the sensitive skin before licking over it soothingly.

Jace let out a hoarse little sound, something between a groan and a whine. “Five more minutes…” He nuzzled his face into your shoulder and you chuckled, combing softly through his hair while he cuddled with you.

“Don’t you want to get your gifts?” You teased him playfully and squealed when he squeezed your bum, which ultimately ended in a small pillow war until you threatened to hex every of his books to fly an attack on him.

He smirked at you as he helped you out of bed, a small flushing adorning his pretty face. “I already got the best gift right here.”

And how were you supposed to not kiss him right then?

It only took a little more convincing and willpower to not stay in bed with Jace until you two descended down the staircase together, the excited sounds and conversations from the big salon guiding your way. Jace had changed into a dress shirt and some nice tailored pants while you wore a dark velvet dress with a turtleneck, the ballerina shoes on your feet a festive red. In your hair, you wore a bow and Jace squeezed your hand in his before you walked into the room to join his family, stopping briefly one more time to kiss underneath the mistletoe that hung in the hallway.

“Good morning, everyone!” Jace beamed as the little twins ran up to him, excitingly talking over each other about what they got for Christmas. “Did you get some nice things this year, guys?”

Rhaenyra smiled warmly at you and you looked into the round, a little shy out of the sudden to be present at such a family-centric moment. “Merry Christmas…”

Rhaenys invitingly patted the empty space between her on the couch and you joined her, Baela and Rhaena as the twins pulled Jace over to the large Christmas tree. There was a little locomotive flying around it as it chu-chued and the ornaments had a certain spark to them that could only be explained by a charm.

“Jace look, we got a magic kit to make fireworks!” Aegon and Viserys basically vibrated with happiness. “We are going to blow up the ministry!”

Daemon barked out an amused laugh, looking at their sons proudly while Rhaenyra just shook her head. “No, we are not blowing anything up, you can at least wait until New Year, boys.”

Meanwhile, Corlys and Luke were busy with a big photograph book the latter got, the pictures of the sea and its many creatures and legends coming to life and nearly making a wet mess on the ground between them.

“We’re so glad you’re here.” Baela nudged you in the side, lacing your fingers together while Rhaena did the same on your other side. “You’re part of our family. That's all that matters, alright?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice as you hugged them both. You watched together as Jace unpacked a large present, revealing a brand-new Quidditch gear and looking at his parents speechlessly before he went to hug them both tightly. In the room, presents left hands and found new ones and soon, the ground was littered with gift wrapping paper and Jace had gravitated towards you again, sitting down in an armchair as well and bidding you over silently.

His family, sensing the coming moment of quiet between you, went on with unpacking and gifting each other as you sat down on Jace’s knee and smiled at him.

“You haven’t opened yours yet.” Jace mumbled mysteriously and you gasped as he pulled out a little box.

“Jace, you didn’t have to-“

“I wanted to.” Jace insisted, his thumb caressing your thigh as he looked at you seriously. “I love you. It’s Christmas. And…I hope you’ll like it, if not, I could bring it back and you can choose something else-“

You opened the bow around the box and opened the lid, your hands shaking despite yourself. Inside, bedded on a little velvet pillow, waited the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen. It was a delicate thing, a shiny pearl hugged and protected by a swirl of silver. Your finger brushed over the piece before you looked at Jace in disbelief.

“Jace…it’s beautiful.” You couldn’t help the tears welling up in your eyes. “It feels magical, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jace said shyly, carefully brushing your hair over your shoulder so he could help you put it on. The cool silver rested perfectly around your neck as Jace’s hand splayed out on your lower back. “It’s…us. Here, take a look.” He lifted the pearl to your face and it took you a moment to see what he meant.

It was hard to explain. For a second, you only saw the smooth surface of the irregular pearl, but then it changed, making room for…memories. You stared into it in awe, as moments of Jace and you flashed before your vision.

You and him on the train to Hogwarts, sharing sweets and napping. The two of you studying together outside by the lake, a blanket thrown over your legs while you made little fireflies dance over your heads. Sharing breakfast at the Great Hall and kissing in the rain. His laughter and yours. A whisper of I love you in your ear. Jace smiling at you and lacing your fingers together…All these tiny moments that made life and love with him so good.

You slowly put down the pearl, lost for hours as you looked at your boyfriend. “I…I have never possessed something as wonderful as this, in my entire life, Jace.”

Jacaerys flushed a bright red, cooing at you when you quickly brushed a tear away. “I’m glad you like it, angel, but please, I can’t see you crying on a day like this.”

You laughed quietly, lifting his chin and kissing him slowly before leaning your forehead against his and whispering: “Thank you. It’s so beautiful, I love it. I love you.”

“Love you too…” He smiled at you. “I’m so glad I could pull this charm off, it wasn’t as easy as the books said.”

You poked his shoulder playfully. “Speaking of charms.” You reached into the pocket of your dress, producing a little package of your own. “Uh-uh, don’t look at me like that, if you get to surprise me, I can return the favor. Give me your hand. And close your eyes.”

Jace complied, waiting curiously as you fumbled with something in his lap. Then, he felt something cool on his wrist and opened his eyes again, meeting your bright smile as his heart melted.

“It’s an enchanted bracelet.” You explained to him as he looked at it, fascinated by the way the little dragon scales seemed to move, its subtle green shimmer perfectly matching Vermax’. “There’s a spell on it meaning to protect you from harm and bring you good luck.”

You didn’t have to tell him part of the reason why you’d chosen it for him. A part of you would continue to worry, but as long as Jace was with you, you were strong. You both made each other strong.

Jace looked at you softly and with understanding in his eyes and turned the bracelet on his wrist, in awe of your pure talent.

“I also made sure it can’t slip off during a Quidditch game-“

He swallowed the rest of your sentence with a kiss.

You smiled against his lips, letting yourself be kissed by him and nearly forgetting that you were in fact not alone. For just one more moment, you let yourself be surrounded by him, his hand still securely on your waist as the other played with your new necklace before-

“Hey lovebirds! Come on, breakfast is ready!” Luke called over from the doorframe and you and Jace laughed together as you helped him up. The rest of your family already was in the dining room, busy with finding seats and talking over each other.

“Thank you.” Jace whispered at you, laying an arm around your shoulder. “For everything. These are the best Christmas holidays ever.”

“We haven’t even had our New Years party.” You hummed, excited for the future for the first time in a long time.

“I can’t wait.” Jace grinned, holding out the chair for you at your family’s table.

Yes, you couldn’t wait to see what the future brought.

You smiled at him. “Me neither.”

my taglist (open): @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss @mattnott @hattiewritesalot @chocotorta2027 @mckennah123 @still-jon-snow

#jace velaryon #jace targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jace targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #hotd #jacaerys targaryen x you #harry collett

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renjunphile · 9 months ago

Text

kiss, cry, fall in love ☆ jung sungchan

୨♡୧ WORD COUNT: 19.3k ୨♡୧ PAIRING: riize's jung sungchan x female!reader ୨♡୧ TAGS & WARNINGS: figure skating!au, skater!sungchan, skater!yn, friends that kiss to lovers!au, secret/hidden relationship, fluff, angst, mentions of anxiety and skating-related minor injuries, lots of pining, lots of internal monologuing, lots of making out descriptions but no smut!, non linear narrative ୨♡୧ SYNOPSIS: jung sungchan is completely, utterly and hopelessly whipped for the struggling skater who keeps him at an arm's length, yet loves the feeling of his mouth on hers in every corner of the globe.

୨♡୧ NOTES: im sorry this is SOOOO long and its just y/n and sungchan being so cute and head over heels for each other. it's kinda a self-indulgent fic and i didn't really explain the figure skating terms, but i think you can make do without knowing what they mean (ask me anything if you wanna know tho!) pls enjoy this cute piece :) anyway, miss u seunghan!!!

⋆｡°✩

SKATE AMERICA, OCTOBER 2023

Your first love will always be figure skating. There was something about the way the cool air kissed and then smothered your face as you stepped onto the ice, and something about the way your sharp blades screeched as it cut through the top layer. There was something about the way the lights around you reflected on the glossy surface and the way you felt like you were most yourself while cutting through the air.

Your first love is figure skating, and everything to do with it- from the 5am call for training, to the sleepy drives all around the country and the world to get to your competitions, to the cheering, the gasps and the booing from the audience, to the gifted plushies making their home on your couch in your living room, to the stumbles and the landings, to the kiss and cry and most of all, to the skating.

Figure skating was also your first heartbreak- one that you were still trying to get over.

The arena you were competing in today was a familiar one, since you'd completed competitions in both the junior and senior circuit here a couple of times. Over the years, your nerves had truly eased up a little - never totally, of course, but you were always more excited than nervous no matter how well you thought you'd fare.

Still, the familiarity of the layout and the size and the ice was no help towards the pit growing in your stomach that you hadn't felt in competition in years. No matter- you woke up with that dread every single day for months now.

The stands had fallen into a hitched silence when they announced your name over the speaker. You had opened the barrier to the rink with a deep breath and one last forlorn look to your coach, who diverted her eyes quickly from you after a tense smile. It was weird; this was one of the loudest crowds in the grand prix circuit, but for you- last to skate in the short- you could hear a pin drop.

This time last year, you were on top of the world going into your first assignment of the season. You were fresh off the back of an amazing run at your very first Winter Olympics, helping your team secure gold medals in the team event and yourself a silver for your own effort. You had been skating in ice shows left and right in the midst of creating new routines for the new season, and you were on a high in life.

The season had passed well- you won gold, and then silver at your grand prix assignments, cruised through the grand prix final and then swept your discipline at nationals. You medalled for the 4th year running at 4 Continents and then all that was left was worlds.

Easy right? All you had left at the end of the best season of your career was the World Championships against all the skaters you had been consistently beating for years.

Anyway, back to the present.

You continued inhaling and exhaling consciously and intentionally for a while and it felt like forever before the first notes of your music began to boom into the arena and you could make your first move.

All eyes were on you.

It took you a split second to snap yourself from the sudden stage fright that had come over you. For a second there, you had thought that your feet refused to move from their starting position and had anchored themselves to the ice, but thankfully your brain and muscles had connected after a brief pause to send you on your first lap around the rink.

You had a few seconds to compose yourself and perform some intricate arm waving before your very first, and most difficult jump- one you had been rigorously training over and over and over again since the end of the last season when it had sabotaged your Worlds free skate.

When on the ice, the faces of the audience blurred into one continuous mass. You were thankful for this, otherwise you would be staring at the anxious expressions of hundreds of people that would bury and make home in your already fluttering stomach.

You sighed heavily to yourself before beginning the lead up to your jump. You told yourself that even if you didn't make it, it wouldn't affect how the rest of the routine went- you wouldn't let it.

You made the dreaded turn to start skating backwards and counted to 3 in your head before you turned again to take off forward, throwing your arms around yourself and launching your body in the air. You wish you could say that you knew what happened afterwards, but all you know is that you landed on the correct feet and the arena burst into cheers. You prayed that you landed your triple axel, but who knows at this point.

You let out a sigh of relief and continued with the rest of your programme that was ingrained in your mind. You were pretty much running on autopilot, which was not always what you preferred to do in competition. You wanted to be more in control, but honestly whatever got you through this skate would be okay.

The rest of the skate flew by and with each jump and element, you began to loosen up and the cloud in your mind began to dissolve. By the end of it, you could clearly make out the relief and pride splattered on your coach's face.

She gave you a tight squeeze when you opened the gate once more and cooed into your ear how proud she was of you, not that a blip in your routine would make her any less proud.

"Let's go to the kiss and cry and then i'll treat you to whatever you want," your coach Lina squeezed your hand with a reverent smile.

"Well now it sounds like you're bribing me to skate well," you grabbed a Keroppi plushie from one of the attendants that had cleaned up after you, giving her an appreciative smile.

"I always believe that you'll do well," she uttered back.

She sat you down in the middle of the bench and you gave smiles and waves to the camera pointing at you. You finally got to review yourself on the screens showing the live feedback of the broadcast and you were elated to find out that you had in fact landed your triple axel perfectly, instead of just a double.

The score blared out your season's best, just cause it was the start of the season, and it was on par with your scores from the start of last season, so you quickly celebrated and made your way to the media area and the changing rooms.

"Y/N!" you were greeted with a familiar squealing voice and were quickly enveloped in a tight hug.

"Sho! I didn't know you were coming!" you were so happy to see one of your friends around.

Shotaro pulled away and you noticed a towering figure beside him, holding a small bouquet of your favourite flowers, tulips.

"Sungchan," you smiled softly, "Hi."

His eyes were as sparkly as you always found them to be, his lips challenging the pinks on the flowers he was clutching.

He gave you a shy smile back and offered out the bouquet, "Taro and I got this for you. Congratulations on your short."

You wrapped your fingers around the stems and admired the vibrant orange and pink, "I bet you guys were holding your breaths. I know I was."

"It was incredible, as always," Sungchan assured you.

"Every skater goes through this, Y/N. We always know you're giving your best and we always believed you would recover," Shotaro hummed sincerely, "Anyway, we came because a lot of the gang is skating tomorrow. We begged our coach to let us come to this assignment and surprise you and the boys."

Shotaro was the first friend you made outside of your skating club in the junior ranks. He had approached you years and years ago, telling you he admired your skating and offered to be skating friends. In a career that was sending you everywhere around the world with never any stability, it was good to be friendly with people that could end up in the same assignments with you.

He had introduced you to the boys he had befriended himself and that was something you were so grateful for after you stopped finding yourself lonely in the cities you were drawn to.

You recalled seeing Anton and Wonbin drawn to this assignment too, but you hadn't had the chance to see them in their practice or otherwise.

"I'm gonna talk to a few reporters cause I can see my coach giving me some death stares to do them right now, but wait for me and we can get dinner? Or are you seeing the boys?"

"Toni and Bin have practice just after this and the others are watching, so we can get dinner just us and then we're hanging out in Anton's hotel suite after if you wanna join," Shotaro explained, "But yeah, go!"

You gave them both smiles and turned around to make a beeline for the press area, trying to ignore the booming feeling in your heart seeing the tall brunette for the first time in months.

⋆｡°✩

WORLDS, MARCH 2023

"Last to skate, Y/N Y/L/N."

You set off into a lap around the rink before settling in your starting position. You were well poised to walk away with the gold medal this competition, after ending up second in the short program and the competitor above you falling out of her combination in her free skate just before you. It wasn't that you prayed for the downfall of others, it was just that you had to take advantage of all you could.

Still, you were incredibly nervous. Your warm up and public training yesterday hadn't gone so smoothly considering you under-rotated your triple axel and landed your other quads shakily. You didn't know what was wrong with you- you were rounding off the best season of your career so far and this was just one last programme before you could have time to relax for a bit.

Lina gave you an encouraging thumbs up from the side and mouthed a good luck. You gave her a nod and waited for the music to start.

You had polished this routine to perfection, having performed it for two seasons already, so you were able to hit every piece of choreography perfectly as you led up to your first jump.

It was weird, the minute you began the lead up to the axel, this unfamiliar feeling began to nestle itself into your stomach and your mind and you didn't even have a split second to shake it away before you shot up in the air.

Then something snapped.

It felt like time had stopped and you were frozen mid spin in the air. The world had gone quiet and you could suddenly see the faces of everyone contort into worried gasps in slow motion. You didn't know how many times you spun in the air. It should have been 3 and half, but maybe it was 5 and maybe it was 2. It seemed like the laws of physics were non-existent as time suddenly snapped back into motion and you were on the floor the next moment.

You had no idea what was happening. Your mind had completely fogged up as you pulled yourself up. In the replays of this moment, you'd later see your coach in the background motioning for you to stop your skate and retreat, but you had bit your lip to stop the tears and continued your skate.

It was as if you blacked out for the rest of your free skate. All you remember was spinning around and around and trying your hardest to get back on track, but that was incredibly difficult when you had popped out of your quad lutz and fell again on your triple-triple. The audience was stunned, watching in silence and shock as the most likely contender of the competition was skating the worst in her entire career. Even in your junior years, you had never placed lower than 5th and you had certainly never popped out of your jumps before. You could probably count on one hand how many times you had fallen in competition, and this skate was obliterating that statistic.

You received your score in the kiss and cry stoic and unmoving. As soon as the cameras switched, you bolted to the halls of the arena while your coach shouted behind you. It took less than a minute for you to lose her as you navigated the maze of the 'backstage'. You were running on your skates (protected, of course) and you were running on some kind of adrenaline that was currently preventing you from breaking down. It would run out soon enough.

You had finally run into a corridor where the lights weren't activated until you stepped into them, so you had felt safe enough to hide in one of the rooms in the hopes they were empty.

The one you had barged into was a small dressing room, but evidently it was occupied by some people judging by the skate guards on the coffee table and the Team Korea jackets thrown on the couches. You didn't care as long as it was empty.

The silence dawned on you after the ringing that had been plaguing your ears since you came off the ice. It was then that all your emotions erupted and you fell to the floor in body-shaking sobs.

You had no idea what had happened at all. Nothing in the world could explain it and you had never felt like this skating ever again. In fact, skating always made you happy- it was the one thing in life that felt like it was for you. You never belonged anywhere else doing anything else. Skating was it.

So why did that happen?

You had heard of a phenomenon in gymnastics- the twisties. It was the sensation of losing yourself in the air, with your mind and body disconnecting in the middle of an element. It was one of the scariest things that could happen to a gymnast, and maybe that was what you had experienced.

Your tears were falling like a rainstorm on your sequinned dress and you felt the creeping of a throbbing and thunderous headache as you cried into the couch.

That was probably why you couldn't hear the door opening and a tall, young figure skater strolling in with a hum before he stopped in his tracks, noticing you on the floor, "Uh-"

Your eyes snapped to the leaning figure and you couldn't even make out who it was through the tears.

"Y/N?"

That was a voice you knew anywhere.

"Sungchan."

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SKATE AMERICA, OCTOBER 2023

"Where's your next assignment again?" Shotaro mumbled out through his mouth full of noodles. The three of you were in a hole-in-the-wall ramen restaurant downtown in the city, somewhere that one of your club-mates had recommended.

You grimaced, urging him to finish his bite first before speaking, "France. So soon."

"That's my first event," Sungchan hummed, sitting diagonally across from you.

Sungchan was one of the quieter ones around you. Of course, that possibly didn't reflect his usual personality around his friends while you were absent, but you'd noticed that in a large group, he tended to flitter on the outskirts and just listen.

"I'm off to Canada in a few days and then to Japan," Shotaro added, "I keep telling the federation to invite some lower ranked skaters to give them Grand Prix experience, but they keep including me in their domestic picks."

"Oh what a shame! You're popular in Japan!" you rolled your eyes playfully and chuckled at him, Sungchan joining along with you.

"Yeah, whatever. I want to experience other assignments. You know i've never been seeded to France?" Shotaro grumbled, "But yeah, I guess a home crowd is always the best crowd."

"The only time I experience a home crowd like that is for nationals, where all my competitors are also the same nationality. Then no one has a home crowd advantage," you mused, "I hope I make it to the final though- I haven't been to Italy in a long time!"

"I believe in you," Sungchan cheered timidly. You returned his musings with a gummy grin.

"Thanks, Sung. After Worlds I stopped believing that phrase, to be honest, but I think I'm getting better at internalising it."

"Ah yeah," Shotaro hissed, "A lot of the guys haven't seen you since. I don't know how much you want to talk about it; do you want me to tell them not to ask?"

"Thanks for being considerate, Taro," you said, "But I think i'm okay to talk about it if they ask. I think I'm coming out the other side of that dark tunnel now. And my therapist says talking about it is the best way to get over it. I guess she's paid to talk about it with me so maybe she just says that so our appointments aren't filled with silence."

Your best friend gave you an understanding nod and continued digging into his bowl of ramen. A comfortable silence fell between the three of you as you finally stopped chattering and were able to divulge into your food. You made small talk about the bowl in front of you- how good the broth was, how chewy the noodles were and how tender the meat was.

After the bill was split three ways, you huddled into the back of a taxi that was taking you to the hotel that most skaters had booked for the competition. You were squished in the middle, thanks to your shorter stature compared to Sungchan and Shotaro, but in an effort to not make Sungchan uncomfortable, you tried to scoot closer to Shotaro. It was pretty much a futile attempt considering the way Sungchan's broad shoulders sprawled over his seat and yours.

Still, you sneaked some glances over to the quiet Korean, who was peering out of the window and watching the busy streets of downtown Texas. His side profile was one you admired, with his enviable nose bridge and plump lips that were pulled into a somewhat pout as his eyes followed the people and the lights outside.

"Hm?" Shotaro poked you with a whisper, "You okay?" You didn't even know that you had dissociated and were staring expressionlessly out through the windshield.

With this, Sungchan snapped his head to you, eyebrows pulled in concern as you dismissed them with a wave, "Yeah i'm fine guys. Just thinking about stuff."

"Well don't plague that pretty head of yours. We're here tonight to help you take your mind off things," Shotaro was well aware that you still had some anxiety about skating and competing, and he mainly dragged Sungchan along to Texas just to help you through your first competition since your disastrous World's run.

Sungchan hummed along, agreeing with Shotaro and soon enough, the taxi was pulling up in front of your hotel. You rolled your eyes when Shotaro pressed on the penthouse button in the elevator; Anton often booked the most expensive suite at his competition hotels, claiming his environment had to be perfect or else it would affect his performance. Whatever, all the more space for all of you to hang out.

Sungchan produced a keycard from his pocket and you could already hear some commotion from the other side of the door. As soon as you heard the beep and the click of the lock opening, you felt a stampede of footsteps running towards the door.

"Noona!" Anton beat everyone to wrapping his arms around you, "Haven't seen you in forever."

"Yeah, I know. I've been a recluse these past few months. I missed you guys though," you giggled into his neck.

"Congratulations on the short," Eunseok hummed as he hugged you.

You received the same sentiments from the rest of the boys before you were being dragged over to the plush L-shaped sofa that they had begun to make their home at, judging from the blankets and jackets and snacks.

"Are you guys excited for tomorrow?" you asked Anton and Wonbin, recalling that the men's short program commenced in the afternoon.

"Excited, nervous; it's all the same emotions," Wonbin shrugged, "I kind of hurt my knee in practice today so hopefully it's okay tomorrow."

You winced at the prospect of an injury. It was so difficult to gauge how much certain bumps and grazes could actually affect you until you're on the ice and giving your all.

"Don't hurt yourself, okay?" Seunghan nudged his friend as he nuzzled into the corner with his blanket.

"Yeah, trust me, you don't want to make it worse," Sohee groaned. He had been dealing with a knee injury for a better part of 6 months and he was praying it would miraculously heal itself before his first assignment in one month.

You plopped down in the middle of the couch and to your surprise, Sungchan took his seat next to you. You tried not to make a big deal out of it, meeting his eyes for a brief second before turning your attention to Eunseok and Shotaro rock-paper-scissoring over who was choosing the movie. Shotaro won and the rest of you groaned, knowing that he was about to subject you to Studio Ghibli film again. For as long as you knew the boys, which was a long time, but you hardly saw them, you had cycled through the whole roster maybe 3 times over.

"How about we don't watch a movie and just chat shit instead?" Seunghan murmured sleepily from his position, "Like to start with, how's everyone's love life going? Any updates?"

You threw a pillow at him, knowing the question was directed at you. The 7 boys were attached to the hip in Korea, all training at the same rink (how the coaches managed that, you don't quite know) for the majority of the off-season. They knew everything about each other.

"Yeah, Y/N, how's your love life?" Sohee teased with a shit-eating grin.

"Non-existent, as always," you rolled your eyes, "I literally don't interact with any guys outside of the 7 of you in this room and that's even a stretch. The only man in my life is my cat at home."

"Why don't you date one of us then?"

Sungchan erupted into a coughing fit and you all looked at him strangely before deciding to address Wonbin's crazy suggestion.

"Sorry, swallowed my spit wrong," Sungchan avoided your eyes and chugged the water bottle he had snatched from the coffee table. He was thankful that everyone moved on from him.

"Wonbin, what the fuck?" you turned back to the long-haired skater, "Are you in love with me or something?"

"Psh, you wish," he dismissed, "But i'm just saying it makes sense. We've been friends for years, you trust us, you can't be bothered to go look for a man and i'm sure the thought of dating even just one of us won't kill you."

"Shut up, Bin. Did you hit your head or something cause that's some crazy allegations there," you defended, "You can't skate with a concussion, you know that right?"

"I'm legit fine," he rolled his eyes and began annoying Eunseok who was sat cross-legged next to him.

Your relationship with these boys was somewhat complicated, you would say. They were your closest friends in the skating world, but you also barely saw them and befriended each one on different levels.

You knew Shotaro better than everyone and you considered him a brother to you, meanwhile Sohee and Anton felt like your children since they adored you so much. Seunghan and Wonbin were your drinking buddies in whatever corner of the world you could find them in and you found yourself museum-hopping with Eunseok more often than not.

And then Sungchan. Ah, Sungchan.

Sungchan was just a consistent and quiet presence in your life. You didn't know much about him but he always appeared in the most random times. You weren't sure if Sungchan just treated you nicely because he felt obligated to because of your friendship with the others, or if his considerate but small gestures were out of his own friendly affection for you. There were phases that you convinced yourself that Sungchan disliked you and merely tolerated you for the sake of the others, but he would always prove you wrong otherwise in ways that you like to cast out of your memories.

Sungchan remained pretty quiet for the rest of the night, only chirping in when he felt like he could add something to the conversation, but the warmth radiating from his body next to yours gave you constant comfort. You would say the two of you were friends, but it was hard to quantify and label what you and Sungchan were exactly.

Eventually, Anton and Wonbin began dropping hints that they were tired and needed to rest up for their skate tomorrow, so you began to usher the boys into their rooms. The two competitors were sharing the three-bedroom penthouse, but with the surprise from the boys, they were having to squeeze 7 to the suite. Of course, Anton and Wonbin needed their beauty sleep, so the rest of them were cramming themselves into the 2 king beds in the third bedroom.

The two skaters bid their goodbyes first and you gave them good luck hugs, promising to watch the event tomorrow if you were able. This left the other boys and you standing around the coffee table looking at each other with no purpose.

"Uh, Shotaro and I are going to the gym," Wonbin began.

Sungchan perked up at this, "Oh! Let me co-"

"No!" Shotaro cried out suddenly, "You're not invited! Sorry! C'mon Bin let's go get changed," he dragged the smiling boy towards the spare room in the suite.

You looked around in confusion, noticing Eunseok, Sohee and Sunghan looking mischievous, "We're going to get chicken," Sohee declared, "I know you don't eat fried chicken so close to competition, right Channie? So why don't you walk our dear Y/N to her room? It's dangerous out there, you know?"

Their intention must have flown over your head as you furrowed your eyebrows together and shook your head, "It's okay Sungchan, I can go by myself! It's only a few floors down and you should rest. Must have been a long flight."

He mirrored your action as he reluctantly tugged on your arm, "It's okay; I'll walk you. I wanna get something from the vending machine anyway."

You gave him an unsure look, but relented when he returned a confident smile. You said good night to the boys who were slipping on their jackets and followed Sungchan out of the suite.

"I'm sorry they made you do that and they all just left you," you scurried after him. His long legs were definitely no match for you, "I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or anything so you can just go down to the machine!"

"Hey," he interrupted your ramblings as the two of you entered the elevator, "Don't worry. We're friends, right? And I would hate if something happened to you on the way down. You have a pretty crazy fanbase, you know?"

You grimaced, thinking back to the time that a couple of fans had stalked you around Toronto when you had competed there once. Sungchan was right, in fairness- you never know what information people have access to.

"Thanks, Channie," you reluctantly called him by his affectionate nickname that the others loved to coo at him, "I also think they decided that you're the most eligible bachelor for me, considering they all dipped and left you behind."

"Ah, they're crazy," he rolled his eyes, "Ignore them, please!"

The two of you had reached your floor and you were glad that your room was close to the elevator. You took out your keycard from your jacket pocket and opened the door. You hadn't had time to unpack before going to training the day before, so all that was in your room was your free skate dress hanging in the exposed wardrobe to let the wrinkles drop out, and your closed suitcases in the corner of the room.

"Well, uh," Sungchan scratched the back of his neck, "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Sungchan?"

He looked up at you with glimmering doe eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to come in?" you moved aside to give him the choice to.

He chuckled in amusement, "Yeah, I do."

He stepped foot into the room and kicked off his shoes while you peeled off your jacket. As soon as the lock clicked shut behind him, Sungchan snaked his toned arms around your waist and attached his lips to yours.

Okay, confession time.

Your relationship with Sungchan was incredibly, incredulously complicated.

It all started 3 and a half years ago when your high school boyfriend broke up with you over the phone between your short and free skate in Canada. Sungchan had been the only other one of the group who was competing at the same assignment and although the two of you weren't close, the boys sent him to your hotel room with chocolate, tissues and a picture of him to rip up or stab with a pen.

You had embarrassingly cried your eyes out all over his training shirt and then pathetically asked him to distract you from the heartbreak by making out with you. You couldn't say that 18-year-old you was very smart or emotionally available. Well, to be honest, you still weren't particularly any better.

Anyway, the next day, the two of you decided to never talk about it ever again, swearing to never tell the boys anything and decided to continue with your semi-awkward acquaintanceship.

That was until the two of you stumbled into each other months and months later at a fellow skater's birthday party halfway across the world and ended up making out again in a coat closet for a good amount of time.

And then it carried on like that- finding places to make out around the globe, swearing not to say anything to anyone and then not talking about it ever again.

"We should really stop this, you know," you panted against his lips.

"You say that every time," Sungchan muttered, slotting his tongue between your lips and snaking his smooth hands to your throat, "But totally, yeah. We should stop this."

"Okay, this can be our last," you decided, as he led you over to your bed and pushed you gently down.

To be honest, you would say that you didn't know much about Sungchan despite making out with him 2 or 3 times a year because it was a correct statement. The two of you never really did anything else other than blow off some steam by making out. You never shared meals together or cuddled in bed indulging in pillow talk. It was always a transactional thing. It was weird in your head- all that the two of you did, but Sungchan was too good of a kisser for you to care about all the details of it.

"Better make it worthwhile, huh?" he peppered kisses down your neck until he reached the spot that had you putty in his hands. Sungchan knew better than to leave marks that your friends would definitely not let go of, so he just bit and sucked for a short time before connecting his lips back to yours. Your shirt had creeped up your torso, exposing a sliver of smooth skin that Sungchan attached his large hands to while he laid waste to all your emotions by kissing the breath out of you.

You didn't know how long had passed until Sungchan pulled away with blown out pupils and a pant. A small smile tugged onto the corner of his lips, which you couldn't help but poke, "What's with you?"

He giggled, "Nothing, nothing. You're beautiful, you know?"

A blush rose up to your cheeks and you broke your eye contact with him. It was weird- Sungchan seemed so confident when he was alone with you, but the moment he stepped out of the confines of your little situationship, he returned to being quiet and mysterious. You wished that you could get to know who the real Sungchan was.

"Shut up," you dismissed, cupping his chin and bringing his face down to yours. Sungchan stopped himself until your noses touched and he nudged his against yours sweetly before kissing you once again.

Kissing Sungchan felt like the world stopped spinning and it was only the two of you. All your worries disappeared and every stress left your body when Jung Sungchan's was on yours. He had this amazing power of making the world tilt on its axis the minute his lips touched yours and frankly, you were addicted to the feeling of him.

Your heart was completely and hopelessly beating out of your chest with the way his lips melded perfectly between yours and it was times like this, alone in a hotel room in a city you'll only ever see the ice rink of, that you forgot what your relationship with Jung Sungchan was.

"You should go," you murmured, halting his actions, "I have training early tomorrow."

"Yeah," he untangled his limbs from you and gave you a limp smile, "It's good seeing you again, Y/N. We haven't spoken in a while."

You internally cringe, thinking back to all those nights you sometimes contemplate texting him, only to realise you really don't text or speak at all outside of the groupchat. You think the last time you spoke was when you greeted him a happy birthday over text, and even that was a very fleeting exchange.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Channie," you felt the emptiness rise up again in your stomach as you walked him to the door. You were back to acting like nothing had ever happened between the two of you and as if walking you to your room was the only thing he did, "Thanks."

He bid you a soft goodnight and disappeared around the corner. Your hands rose up to your swollen lips and you sighed.

What were you actually doing?

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JUNIOR GRAND PRIX FINAL, DECEMBER 2017

"Urgh," you kicked the vending machine in anger as it withheld your drink in its clutches. It was a futile attempt as it sat on the edge of the shelf, taunting you. You gave it a few more hopeless kicks and groaned in frustration.

First, your triple salchow in your program was a total mess and definitely under-rotated, and now the vending machine wouldn't even disperse the drink that you paid the last of your Japanese coins for.

"Do you want some help?" a soft voice called out to you. You turned around and came face to face with who you presumed to be a skater judging from the pass hanging around his neck. He looked kind of familiar, you thought, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

You tried to give your politest, "Sure," but he could probably tell you were annoyed.

He enveloped the vending machine between his two sprawling arms and gave it an abrupt shake. You sighed in relief as you finally saw the melon milk can tip over and fall into the hole.

"Ah, thank you," you crouched down to take the drink, "I'd buy you a drink for that but I just used the last of my money."

He gave you a dashing smile, finally meeting your eyes.

Ah, wow.

He was certainly an attractive boy, with light brown fluffy hair and eyes so big that it made you swoon. This guy was almost two heads taller than you, but he was still built from the soft definition of muscles you could see from his short-sleeve top.

"It's okay," he assured you, flashing you the coins in his palm, "I was gonna buy myself a drink. I'm Sungchan, by the way. I'm a skater from Korea and I'm competing tomorrow."

It clicked in your head suddenly, "Jung Sungchan? Shotaro's friend? I'm Y/N!"

He smiled sheepishly, "I know who you are, of course," he motioned to your ensemble consisting of your competition dress, "You literally just came off the ice, you know that? Plus, Taro talks about you all the time."

You looked down at your costume and your feet that were still in your covered skates, "Oh, yeah. It wasn't my best out there. Anyway, sorry for not recognising you- Shotaro also talks about you guys a lot but he never shows me pictures. It's my fault though- I know I've probably been at numerous assignments with you guys since I've known Sho."

Sungchan popped open his can of strawberry milk, "You're quite harsh on yourself, you know that? Shotaro always says that about you. It was an amazing skate and you swept your competitors. Even if you made a small mistake, it doesn't take away from the rest of your incredible elements. You should always be proud, because those who watch you always are."

You tilted your head at him, a near-stranger offering you some comforting words, "Ah, I've never thought about it like that. I guess I'm harsh on myself because I want to do this for as long as possible. My dream is to win an Olympic gold."

"You're probably the closest out of all of us. Your skate in Norway was out of this world!" he chided. It was true- you already had a Winter Youth Olympics medal, but that was never really a predictor for the real thing- wait, he was at Norway Youth Olympics. Maybe that's why he looks so familiar to you?

You fought the smile arising, "Well, skating's an unpredictable sport; you never know what can happen. You just have to hope for the best," Sungchan opened his mouth to reply, but you could see your coach appearing around the corner, "Ah! I have to go- my coach is coming! It was nice meeting you, Jung Sungchan. I'll definitely see you around and good luck for tomorrow!"

"You too, Y/N," Sungchan watched as you bounded over to your coach, happy to see that you were in a better mood than when he first encountered you. That feeling did something funny to his stomach.

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GRAND PRIX DE FRANCE, NOVEMBER 2023

You're on top of the world, and then suddenly you're not. That's the feeling you get when your blade collides with the ice so abruptly, shooting the pain all through your body as you fall on your triple axel again.

You think that you don't even breathe for the rest of the free skate, just running on pure adrenaline pumping through your muscles to get you out of this situation. Fight or flight was really taking over, but you knew that you could never step foot on the ice again if you decide to leave halfway through.

Your coach fussed over you as soon as you stumble out, shell shocked and delirious, but not yet crying.

"Y/N?" she snapped her fingers in front of your face, "Are you okay? Go to the medical team and get that checked out now," she ordered you.

They're satisfied that you didn't sustain any injuries with that fall; you think your mind took the worst of it. You're hunched over on the examination room bed, blanket around your shoulder and shivering.

All you need right now is someone to hold your hand and tell you everything's okay.

"Sungchan?" you whispered into the phone when the call finally connects.

"Y/N! What happened? Where are you?" he sounds breathless, as if he's been running around.

"I'm in the medical room," you looked around the empty room, thankful they gave you the privacy you needed to process, "Can you find me?"

"I'm coming, don't worry," he assured you, "For now, just breathe okay? Just make sure you're breathing. In and out, okay love?"

Love.

Sungchan doesn't bat an eye on this or even try to correct himself. It's something that slips out so naturally to him and that gets your mind going at another 100 miles per hour. Well, at least you weren't thinking about your skate.

It took Sungchan a few more minutes to find the medical room, having asked two staff members along the way. The whole time, he stays on the phone, making sure you're still okay.

He knocked twice and entered the room, finding you in the corner, just staring at his contact information on your phone. Sungchan pressed the hang up button and sighs in relief as he finds you.

Reluctantly, he approached the stiff bed and wrapped his arms around you. The second he does, you melt into his embrace and he's more confident to squeeze you tighter.

Your body begins to shake with sobs and Sungchan feels his shirt become damp, so he places his hand on your head and gave reassuring pats.

"Ah, let it out, Y/N. I know how hard that must have been for you," Sungchan whispered, hoping and praying he was saying the right things.

Falling was nothing new to Sungchan. He fell every day, even. But the immediate feeling you get after it never gets any better. You just have to get better at dealing with the aftermath. He knows you've fallen countless of times before, but after a nearly-traumatic competition all those months ago, he understands why nearly 8 years into your career, you're starting to deal with these new anxieties.

"You're okay, Y/N, you're safe," your sobs let up after a while, but he can still tell that you're still crying, "This is nothing. You're still in the Grand Prix Final and you're still the most amazing skater in the whole world."

You pull away and gave a half-hearted smile through the tears, "Just cause I'm having a breakdown doesn't mean you need to lie to me."

Sungchan is in awe at how beautiful you still look despite the tears rapidly falling. He tucks the hair in your face out of the way and tried to wipe some of the tears, "I'm not a liar. You're my favourite skater and you always have been, ever since juniors."

"Have a crush, do you?" you teased, sniffling and trying to finish up the release of emotions.

"And how bad would it be if I did?"

You tried to ignore him, you really did. You tried to ignore the way his words sent impulses straight to your heart and brain and made you dizzy.

Look, you weren't stupid. You were nearly friends with benefits with this guy and you knew how that usually ended- lovers or enemies. You had been suppressing any emotion all this time to postpone finding out which one you and Sungchan were gonna end up as.

"Y/N?" he called, pulling you out of the trance.

"Hm?"

"Come to Paris with me for a couple of days," Sungchan hums, taking your fingers and playing with them, "I'll help you take your mind off it all."

"Just you and me?"

You think about Eunseok and Seunghan, and how they had expressed their desire to come to Paris after the competition.

"Just you and me," he stated, "Let's just- keep it between us. A healing trip."

"What are you healing from?"

He brings his face close and nudged his nose against yours, "Seeing you cry breaks my heart every time, but I'm glad you come to me."

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Sungchan holds your hand the whole 3 hour drive to Paris the next day. While you were feeling better, and watching him skate to a gold also made you happy, you were still fighting your inner thoughts. You look over to your companion, his head resting on his shoulder with his pink lips slightly open as he let out deep breaths. He looked so pretty sleeping, you thought to yourself.

You felt like you were in a romantic film, to be honest. Outside the windows were the sprawling countryside of France between Angers and Paris, and his hand was intertwined with yours and you were sharing an earbud each from his wired headphones connecting to his phone.

You wish you could fall into a slumber like he had, so you wouldn't have to be faced with these thoughts about the two of you. Since your arrangement with Sungchan started, you refused to think about the possibility of anything more between the two of you, convincing yourself that friends was the only title you were destined to bear. When you think about it, you're actually in a much dire situation than you wish to be in. You know you'll have to confront these feelings soon enough the more that Jung Sungchan entwines his life with yours.

Then again, Jung Sungchan has always been in your life.

The minute after you met him at the Junior Grand Prix final when you were 16, you suddenly began to notice him all over the world. He was at nearly every grand prix assignment, every challenger series you participated in and every corner of the world. He was always just there and you never really realised that until recently.

It started off as shy smiles between the two of you and 'good luck's' in passing, and then happy waves and asking each other how you were. When you finally turned 18 and had more freedom at the competitions, you were able to explore town with the boys, Sungchan always in tow since the world loved to put the two of you together.

You didn't know everything about Sungchan but he had already seen you at your worst and at your best. That has to mean something, right?

"We're almost at Mr. Jung's requested destination," your driver cleared his throat, breaking you out of your spell.

You thank him quietly and face the task of waking up what you believe to be the most beautiful sleeping boy in the world.

You reached up to his eyes, pushing the hair out of the way and you cup his warm face with your cold hands. His eyelashes began to flutter, until he woke up at your touch.

"We're almost here," you told him.

He squeezes his eyes shut adorably as he stretches out his body, never breaking his hold on you, "Ah, I fell asleep? Sorry, I didn't mean to!"

"It's okay," you shrugged, "You must be pretty tired considering you had the whole competition and you were last to skate at the gala. You did so well yesterday."

You thought back to how you also met up for drinks with the other boys that night and didn't get into your hotel until 2 in the morning.

"I wanted to spend some time with you, though," he pouted and your head spins at the thought of wanting to kiss the pout off his face.

"We have a few days," you reminded him, "Speaking of, where are we going?"

Sungchan pulls his lips into a sheepish grin, "You might hate it but give me a chance, okay?"

He's right in saying that you absolutely hate the thought of it the second you stepped foot in the building. You pleaded him to do literally anything else in the world as he paid for the tickets and led you past the barriers. You're slow in putting on the equipment and grumbling as you meet him by the gate.

The ice rink is busy, bustling with teenagers, families, couples and everyone alike.

"Give me a chance," Sungchan echoed as he extended his large hands towards you. You nearly laugh at this gesture, considering the two of you were definitely the most experienced skaters on the rink and the possibility of falling was nearly 0, but then you look up at the other couples and groups on the rink, all holding hands as they tried to keep themselves upright.

"We've just spent the last week going around and around the ice until we were going crazy," you began as the two of you set off on a leisurely lap, "And your very best idea for our so called 'healing' trip was to do the same thing?"

He looked at you pleadingly, "Look, I know I can't change the way that skating makes you feel instantly in one day. But I want to get to know you a bit more- find out why you love skating in the first place and hope that I can help you in your journey in falling back in love with skating."

You're struck silent by his explanation, mouth agape. Sungchan smiled softly, tugging on your hand and doing some more intricate steps as you followed. Looking around, there were people of all abilities- adults stumbling and adults gliding, teenagers falling and teenagers spinning, and little children across the whole spectrum of abilities. You awed at the little girl who fell, but got back up immediately, cheeks flushed but expression determined.

There was some couples that you could make out- one partner would be hobbling, holding onto the railing, and then every so often, their more gifted partner would catch up to them in their lap and make conversation, usually grinning and laughing together despite the disparity in ability. You could see the couples holding hands, reassuring each other that they were supported and they weren't gonna let the other fall.

"I was already 9 when my parents first put me on the ice. I fell so many times that my legs were bruised and bleeding up and down both sides and they had to stop me from skating because I was tracking blood and it was a biohazard," Sungchan began, "I hated skating so much at the beginning because I was so bad and I hated being bad at things. I begged and begged my parents to put me into lessons and I was determined to be the best. I hit a stump when I was 13 and puberty hit. I hated how all the easy jumps I could land were suddenly the most difficult thing in the world and it took me a while to find my balance again since I grew so tall in a short period. The time that I hated skating made me realise all the more how much I loved it because it was just showing how much I was willing to give to the sport. That's it, that's my story."

"That's your whole story?" you let go of his hand and skate around him, holding eye contact.

He shrugged nonchalantly, "That's all there is to me. Once I started skating, nothing else mattered. All I do is hang out with you and the boys, and get on the ice at every other time. What's your story, Y/N?"

The two of you skate around an adorable child clutching onto a penguin aid and join again at your hands as you reminisced, "My older cousin loved to skate, so when she would babysit me, she would take me to the rink. At first, my parents hated the idea of that since they didn't want me to get hurt, but I took to skating immediately. It became my life too. School was hard- I was always leaving school early or coming late because of practice and I would be missing days at a time for competitions. I never made many friends at school because of that, so skating was my only friend. I loved everything, but I guess I'm hitting my stump now."

Sungchan hummed and nodded along, "Do you know why?"

"I know it's all in my head," you affirmed, "Me and my therapist agree. I know I can do these jumps and I know that I still do love this sport deep down. I think all the pressure is mounting onto me- you know, continually being the best? But it's all I have and it's driving me crazy. It's the only thing I can take pride in and I think I need something new alongside skating."

"Like what?"

"You're definitely helping," you admitted, looking down, "Not just you. Spending time with you guys is giving me a bit more purpose in life- striving to form better friendships. But you've helped me a lot."

Sungchan grins down at you, surprising you by planting a kiss at the top of your head. He had never been affectionate in public, considering the two of you were keeping a secret from the world, but in this small rink in the outskirts of Paris, he felt like he could shout to the world how he felt about you.

"I don't want you to dread competitions or tear yourself up over your falls. I know there's nothing I can personally say or do to help you, but I just wanna be here for you," Sungchan's words are nearly a confession, but you push that aside as you come to a halt by a little girl falling in the middle of the rink.

"Hey," you coo in your best French, "Are you okay?"

The little girl grabbed your hand with her little fingers and you swooned at how tiny she was. Her eyes are brimming with tears as she tries to find her feet again, so Sungchan grabs her other hand and helps her to stabilise.

He looks over at you, fondness in his eyes as you try to set off the little girl into a slow routine. She's giggling when she is finally able to skate on her own and she thanks you in a cute little voice when she does.

"What's the likelihood that she's gonna be a figure skater when she's older?" you lean against Sungchan's frame, watching her shoot off into the bend.

"Hm, pretty high. You just showed her that if someone's there to pick you up after you fall, it's all gonna be okay."

⋆｡°✩

GRAND PRIX FINAL, DECEMBER 2023

"Song Eunseok," you greeted your friend with a tight hug, and turned to the other, "Park Wonbin! Haven't seen you in a couple of months."

Wonbin affectionately nuzzled his head into your neck, "Did you miss us?"

"I don't know if miss is the right word. Maybe, noticed your absence is better," you teased back, "Isn't this exciting?"

The three of you took your seats right in the front row of the area you had reserved, you in the middle as you watched your best friends warm up on the ice. The other 5 were all participating in the grand prix final, having had the best results in their assignments of the season and were about to compete in the free skate to determine the medalists. Yours had just finished in the slot before, but you were still awaiting the awarding ceremony, hence you still in your costume.

"I would like to be on there with them," Eunseok grumbled, waving hello to a passing Shotaro, "But getting to watch with you isn't so bad."

"There's more seasons to come," you nudged his elbow, "Everyone's on top form this season."

"Especially you, our newly crowned Grand Prix Final gold medalist," Wonbin excitedly clapped, "Three in a row, how does it feel?"

"Like the pressure is still crushing me," you dismissed, "But thank you, Bin. I'm happy."

You steer the conversation along in a different direction, talking about the boys' program and what you were looking forward to see. Anton had a mean quad combination, meanwhile Shotaro's dance elements and step sequences always blew everyone else out of the park. Although you had watched these routines time after time each season, you never got tired of how talented your best friends were.

"Ah right, you went to Paris right? After your assignment there?" Wonbin asked you suddenly.

Your face flushed beet red immediately, "Oh, how do you know?"

"You posted a picture of the Eiffel Tower on your Instagram," Eunseok butted in, "Who'd you go with?"

"Ah, no one you know. Just stopped by on the way to the airport," you lied through your teeth and you hated that you had to do that, but it was your decision anyway.

Sungchan was nearing your side of the stands, and he slowed down significantly as he sent the three of you a wave. You hadn't seen him yet since the end of your free skate that crowned you gold medalist, since he had to prepare to be on the ice immediately afterwards.

"Something's up with Sungchan these days," Wonbin began, eyes trained on the tall figure skating away.

"What makes you say that?"

"I'm not sure," he replied, "But he's like, uh, happier these days? But also more secretive? He's always on his phone and smiling at it and he always sighs when we mention setting him up on a date. Do you think he has a girlfriend he's keeping from us?"

Eunseok nodded along, "I've been noticing that too, actually. What do you think Y/N?"

Your ears flushed red and you prayed they wouldn't notice as you kept your eyes on the boys warming up, "Why are you asking me? You guys spend the most time with him. Plus, why don't you just ask him yourself or wait for him to tell you?"

In all honesty, you were burning with guilt about keeping such a huge secret from the boys, but you and Sungchan were suddenly treading into new territory that you wanted to navigate together first before anything else.

"When we ask him he just changes the topic," Wonbin answered, "To be honest, I thought he had a crush on you. We all did."

"Me?" you exclaimed, looking between the two of them nodding.

"He always talks about you and we thought that was so weird considering you two didn't even seem that close. Channie always asks Taro how you are and we're like: 'why don't you text her yourself?' and then he gets all shy and flustered," Eunseok rambled, "But I guess not."

"Yeah," you trailed off the word, decidedly ending the conversation as the boys evacuated the rink for the first skate.

The thought of Sungchan asking the boys about you made you feel some way- happy, maybe? It was so adorable that he thought of you and that texting you made him shy. You weren't stupid- Sungchan made his intentions clear towards you, but the two of you drew a line and stayed behind it, so you weren't sure what to think. These days, it seemed like Sungchan was destroying that line inch by inch.

Anton was first to skate, so the three of you focused your attention to him instead. A grand prix final with 5 of your best friends was definitely conflicting, but the boys all agreed to never get angry or too competitive with each other and just cheer for each other. Whoever won, won and that was that.

You were glad that all the boys were making it through their programs cleanly and the scores were all in such close proximity to each other that it was actually unclear who might win. Sungchan was last to skate by luck of the draw and by the time it was his turn, you were nearly biting your nails off in anticipation.

While you try not to have favourites between the boys, considering them all to be equally talented in their own ways, Sungchan just had a way of skating that spoke to you. You determined this even before your arrangement.

For a skater his height, he was incredibly graceful with long limbs creating beautiful lines and silhouettes. Despite his abnormally broad shoulders, his jumps were well balanced and tight, and his athleticism made all of them look so easy. His choreographer and coach really used all of his features and abilities to create the most visually stunning and technically superb skate.

"Hyung's been on fire this season," Wonbin muttered beside you, in awe of his friend that was so magnificently treading the ice.

"He's incredible," you agreed softly.

Sungchan was incredibly passionate about figure skating. Of course, you all were since it was your careers and if you didn't love what you were doing, you would quickly burn out. He just had this fire in him that you hadn't seen reflected in other people in a very long time, and that's what you admired about him.

Pushing your own feelings for him aside, you watched him intently as he led up to the most difficult skill in his arsenal- the three of you in the stands all linked arms and muttered prayers and pleadings. It felt like you were on the ice instead- you couldn't breathe until it was over.

"1, 2," you counted under your breath as he took off into his quad lutz. It was almost as if you watched him jump in slow motion, counting every turn until he landed, switched sides of his blades with an euler, before taking off into his triple flip.

You were still holding your breath when Wonbin and Eunseok dragged you up as they jumped up to cheer and whoop at the clean landing and combination. Jung Sungchan was truly one of a kind.

"He's so good," Wonbin squealed as you sat back down to watch him finish off his program, "Crazy good."

You're completely captivated by him for the rest of his skate and it even takes your coach multiple tries to catch your attention to tell you to come down to prepare for the victory ceremony. You plead to wait until Sungchan finished his skate and she just clicks her tongue and gives you a knowing smile.

The rest of the event goes by in a whirlwind, accepting your medals and flowers and taking pictures with your fellow medallists. You speak to some media and change into your comfier clothes, relaxing in your self-prescribed dressing room, which was just an empty room with a table and a couple of chairs.

A knock at the door snapped you out of your trance thinking about your program, and you shouted for them to come in.

"My gold medalist," Sungchan grinned over at you from the door as you jumped up to greet him. He's holding a gorgeous arrangement of flowers in his arms, extending it to you once more, "A gift from us."

You took the flowers, admiring the colours and the smell, before placing it down with the other gifts and your medal, "You guys are always so sweet to me. Congratulations to you as well; that was one of the best programs i've seen in my life!"

"Thank you, Y/N. And Taro says you're our only ice princess so we should spoil you," Sungchan chuckled, slowly approaching you closer and closer, "Anyway, they asked me to come and get you so we can go and get dinner together."

"They asked or you volunteered?"

A smirk took over his face, "Now why would I want to get you alone?"

"Who knows?" you teased as his large hands cupped your cheeks and guided your face to his. All tiredness left your body as you melted into his kiss and you wished that time would stop so you could do this forever.

He captured your lips with his own soft and plump lips, nibbling and kissing so softly and delicately, as if he would break you. It was worlds away from the way you two would make out ferociously in dimly lit hotel rooms after competitions ended at night. It was intentional, sweet and utterly heart-clenching.

"My gorgeous champion," Sungchan murmured against your lips, connecting them again passionately as he snaked his arms around you.

"Channie, we talked about this," you whispered, "We're just getting to know each other still."

Sungchan playfully rolled his eyes and left a fleeting peck before he pulled away, "I know, I know. Let's go before the boys get suspicious?"

He offered out his hand after you picked up all your things and you laced your fingers together and walked out side by side.

⋆｡°✩

PARIS, NOVEMBER 2023

November in the city of love and enlightenment was certainly a chilly ordeal. You were wrapped up in infinite layers, face red and tucked behind a wooly scarf and hat. You would think that since your profession was being around literal ice all day that you would be acclimated to the cold, but Paris was tearing you a new one with its weather.

You and Sungchan were taking a stroll by the River Seine, people watching and basking in each other's quiet company. The thing with Sungchan was that you felt comfortable with him; you's been friends for 6 years anyway, but all this time, you had kept him at arms length in order to protect your heart. Sungchan was still somewhat of a mystery to you- all his thoughts and all his feelings unknown.

"I heard that at night in the summer, they have people play live music here and people will dance along all night," Sungchan sighed, watching the couples stroll by with arms and hands interlocked, bundling together tight to warm each other up.

"That really sounds amazing," you replied, trying to stop yourself imagining dancing with Sungchan by a twinkling river on a cool summer night, "I want to come to Paris again when it's warmer and fully explore it!"

"We should do a trip," Sungchan said and you don't even ask if he meant as a group or just the two of you.

"Y/N?" he called again.

"Hm?"

He stopped to lead you to an empty bench, sitting with a considerable gap away from you before he made the bold move to shuffle closer. Sungchan stared you in the eyes with a longing gaze, "How come you trust me so much? How come you let me stay through your vulnerable moments when I know you don't do that with the others?"

You paused to think momentarily about his question that you'd pondered yourself during sleepless nights many times, "You're always just there. Whenever I end up in a situation like that, you somehow always find me like you have some spider-sense that i'm breaking down. And your presence calms me; you don't even need to say anything," you talked through your thought process slowly, trying to make it make sense in your head as well, "I feel like you understand me well whereas others may feel like I'm self absorbed and selfish for freaking out over such minor mistakes. And I can just feel in my heart that I can trust you. Thank you for always being there for me, Sungchan. I hope I don't burden you with my own breakdowns."

Sungchan smiled shyly, taking your gloved hands between his, "I'm really thankful that you do trust me. Don't ever think that you burden me because I do want to be there for you. Me and the boys hate seeing you so upset, so whatever I can do to help you through is nothing for me; we're in such a demanding field that it's important to have a good support system."

"You guys have really made my career. I don't know how I could have lasted this long without all of you," you emphasised the 'all', hoping he would catch on to your allusion of how special he was to you.

"You know, Y/N," he began, voice suddenly shaking and nervous, "I've been meaning to get some time alone with you in the daytime to talk for a while now."

You chuckled anxiously, "Did you take me to Paris to break up with me? Break up as in end our arrangement?"

"I like you, Y/N," he deadpanned, dismissing your pessimistic comment. Your heart started beating fast instantly, "I really like you and I can't carry on what we have until I tell you. We can move forward however you want: we can end the arrangement or just carry on as we are, but I just wanted to tell you."

His words don't shock you much. You think Sungchan has been confessing in his own little gestures and actions for some time now, but he finally threw the ball in your court.

You looked down at your intertwined hands, smiling softly and exhaled a puff of white frost, "We were bound to fall for each other, right? I just don't want to to hurt you since I've been in a bad place this past few months. I'm slowly getting out of it, but I just don't want to drag you down with me."

"I just want to be by your side," Sungchan whispered gently, "I just want to be able to kiss you in front of the world and call you mine."

"In front of the world?" you teased, ignoring the way your heart was swooning at his sweet confession.

"I know it's selfish of me, but I don't want to hide you forever," Sungchan voiced out, "I want to text you how you are and not feel like I'm overstepping and I have so much more of myself I want to give you."

You finally met his eyes again, "Let's make a deal, Jung Sungchan. Let's get to know each other well and more intentionally over the rest of the season and try that out. When it ends, we can think about what's next."

"I like the sound of that," Sungchan grinned, "I can still kiss you though, right? I think I'd die without it. The months between Worlds and your first assignment was hell for me."

"You're so dramatic," you rolled your eyes playfully, nudging your shoulders against his.

"Y/N?"

"Yes, Sungchan?"

"Does that mean you like me back?"

You let out a laugh that Sungchan swears is the best thing he's heard in his life, and you pulled him by your entwined hands, telling him you want to go see the Eiffel Tower.

⋆｡°✩

SOUTH KOREA, APRIL 2024

Shotaro is smiling happily as he placed the orange juice pouch in front of you on the sand. You're sat on a blanket, knees tucked up to your chest as you watched the waves crash against the rocks peacefully. You think it's a good time to swim since the tide might be too strong later.

"Thank you," you coo at your best friend as he laid down beside you, flicking his sunglasses over his eyes.

You pierced the pouch with the straw and let out a happy sigh as the freezing cold juice invaded your taste buds. Late April in the south coast of Korea was thankfully warmer than the previous weeks you spent in Seoul with a new choreographer, piecing together your new program for the upcoming season.

The beach house behind you does very little to block out the sun, considering the sun is shining the opposite way and down to you, so you had made sure to lather up in sunscreen before relaxing on the beach. You had read half your book before Shotaro woke up from his short post-breakfast power nap and decided to join you on the sand.

"I think Anton and Sohee are still asleep cuddling," Shotaro laughed. You had tried to wake up the pair for breakfast, but they had both grumbled and sent you on your way back to the kitchen, nestling into their shared bed even more.

"They can be in charge of lunch then," you huffed, "When's everyone else coming? What time is it?"

"It's only 11:30," he told you, "I think the other 4 are all arriving together soon- maybe around now."

You, Shotaro, Anton and Sohee were able to make it first to the beach house that you all booked for a peaceful week and a half trip. You had already stayed the night, but the other boys had commitments that meant they could only come now. It was all fine, since you were there for a pretty long time anyway.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as Shotaro closed his eyes and took in the fresh sea breeze.

"How have you been since Worlds?" Shotaro broke the silence.

"Better, but I'd hate to find out if my happiness only stems from redeeming myself at this year's Worlds," you recounted. The last time you had seen the boys previous to the trip was the Worlds Championship the previous month, the same competition that caused a year-long spiral down into near insanity. Thankfully, you managed to escape scot-free and with a gold medal around your neck.

"How does it feel now stepping onto the ice? Does that dread still overcome you?" Shotaro asked softly.

After your worst skate on the world stage, it had taken you nearly a month to step back onto the ice since every time you attempted, you were instantly tossed back into that moment. It took another month before you even tried attempting your signature triple axel again. At your first assignment, you had felt fear instead of excitement as you began.

"I don't think so," you said lowly, afraid that if you said it with anymore confidence, it would come back to haunt you, "I think i'm on the other side completely. I have you and the boys to thank for that."

Shotaro smiled proudly, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tight affectionately. You missed speaking like this to your best friend, just the two of you- on rooftops, beaches, cafés, ice rinks, diners- spilling your hearts and confiding in each other. You hated that you were still keeping such a big secret from him.

"Hyung? Noona?" you heard a soft voice call out behind you. You turned around to find Anton peeking only his head out of the double doors at the back of the house overlooking the beach, "The others are pulling up!" The two of you shot up, picking up your blanket, your book and your trash before skipping through the sand to reach the house.

You were nervous, quite honestly, but the good kind, which was new for you. You hadn't seen Sungchan since Worlds (though you've stayed much more connected than in the past when apart) and all you could think about was the agreement between the two of you to revise your arrangement once the season had ended. And it has.

However, the talk was still pending.

You joined Sohee and Anton watching from the wide open front door as the boys were getting their bags out of the car trunk and rolling it up the driveway.

"Vacation time!" Seunghan whooped, dancing into the house with his suitcase in tow and a plastic bag filled with clinking glass, "We're going to get fucked up this week!"

"Well hello to you too, Hannie," he approached you with open arms before you were pulled away into another hug.

"Hmph," you were taken by surprise as Wonbin crushed your frame.

"Haven't seen you in ages," he said sadly. He wasn't at Worlds since he had injured himself slightly at 4 Continents before that, so it had been a while.

"How are you?" you poked his arm, "How's the knee?"

"It'll be totally fixed up before the season starts," he dismissed, grinning at you before going to greet the boys. You quickly hugged Eunseok and turned your attention to the last one through the door.

"Sungchan," you quickly enveloped his waist in a tight hug and he wrapped his arms around your neck and leaned down to your ear.

"Hey there," you could feel him smiling, "Missed you."

You pulled away quickly, trying to not be obvious in front of the boys, simply giving him a smile of reciprocation as you all migrated to the living room.

"D'you guys claim rooms already?" Eunseok looked around at the interior of the beach house.

"Hm," Sohee nodded sleepily, "Anton and I took the double bed on the right of the stairs and there's a room with another double across it."

"My room has a single bed and a double so two more of you can stay with me," Shotaro explained, "Then our princess Y/N gets the master bedroom all to herself."

You grinned teasingly at the boys who affectionately cooed at you and your overpacking. Your clothes were all currently sprawled out everywhere since you dug deep into it to find your pyjamas the night before and didn't bother to unpack properly.

"Dibs on the single," Eunseok rushed out, to which the other boys groaned at, "What? Shotaro likes to cuddle at night and I get too hot for that."

"I'll cuddle with you, Hyung," Wonbin said cutely, wrapping his arms and leg around Shotaro's side. Shotaro chuckled and fondly agreed.

"Yay, we're roomies!" Seunghan tugged on Sungchan's arm, "What are we doing today?"

"How about relaxing?" Wonbin groaned, "Sleeping?"

"Yah, you already slept the whole drive down!" Eunseok protested, "We can unpack and then grocery shop?"

The others seemed to decide that was a good idea so you also headed up to your room to sort out your clothes. Normally, you never properly unpacked in the countless hotel rooms you stayed in, since you only every brought your skates, your costumes and a couple of comfortable sweats to lounge in in between skating sessions. However, since you were staying for a while and doing activities (Shotaro made sure to book a place far from any ice skating rinks), you had to bring a lot of clothes.

Leaving your door open as you sat on the wooden floor and arranged your clothes into piles, you saw Eunseok and Wonbin drag their suitcases up the stairs and onto your wing of the house and they peeked in.

"Wow, noona this room is so nice," Wonbin expressed, "You're so lucky."

"Yeah I deserve not having to share with you guys. You're all pigs," you threw a sock at him that he threw right back.

"Guys, come look at the master," Eunseok craned his head and called over to the other boys bringing their bags up. Eunseok and Wonbin crossed the landing to their room to make space for the approaching Seunghan and Sungchan.

"Wow," Sungchan gasped in awe as he traversed the room and past you, "A bay window looking out at the sea?" He clapped happily as he stretched out across the cushions on the bay.

"Yah, get off! It's mine," you pouted, getting up from the floor to check the view outside. Since you arrived after the sun had already set, you didn't get to see what the view was like before and in the morning, Shotaro had dragged you straight down to the kitchen without even letting you do so much as brush your hair.

You could see from the corner of your eye that Seunghan had turned around and closed the door behind him, which left you slightly suspicious.

"Why did he close the door and leave?" Sungchan frowned, sitting up and patting the cushion next to him for you to have a seat. You sat down, twisting your body to examine the view. It was so peaceful and you couldn't wait to see how the sunset would illuminate your room in vivid colours.

"Beats me," you shrugged, "Did you tell them anything? They've been suspicious that you've been dating someone since grand prix final!"

"Yeah, I know. They keep bugging me about it," he rolled his eyes, "But I haven't said anything!"

"Hm," you hummed, "Anyway, how was the drive up?"

"I called shotgun then Eunseok demanded that I stay awake the whole time to keep him company," Sungchan recounted, "Seunghan and Wonbin were completely knocked out in the back, but it was a nice and smooth trip. What have you guys been doing here?"

"We all just explored the house and then went to bed last night pretty quickly, but Taro and I had breakfast and sat on the beach for a bit before you guys came."

Sungchan shuffled over, his hips bumping against yours, "Mhm, sounds nice! We should take a walk on the beach later. A nice long walk on the beach."

"Just us?" you inquired, brow raised.

"To be honest, I'm not really sure how to get you alone without the others being suspicious. This is probably suspicious enough," he pointed at the door, "They're all probably on the other side with their ears pressed against the door."

"We could just tell them," you suggested cautiously, "That we're getting to know each other?"

Sungchan dropped his head onto your shoulder and sighed, "I like keeping this to us. Our own little secret. It's fun for now, but maybe when we get a bit more tired we can tell them. We'll find a way to spend time with each other a little bit, but I guess it's a group vacation after all."

"Yeah, let's not stress," you agreed. Sungchan started playing with your fingers, twisting your rings and measuring up his large hands with yours before he entwined them together. He peered up at you from your shoulder and reached up to press a kiss along your jawline. You rotated your head to look down at him and before you know it, he had stolen a kiss from your lips.

You nudged him off of your body playfully as he tried to lean in for another kiss, "Go unpack! Hannie's gonna get suspicious!"

He feigned displeasure as he got up and stretched high, nearly touching the ceiling, "Mhm, okay, whatever you say. I'll see you later, love."

You bit back a grin, "Bye Channie."

⋆｡°✩

Sungchan is pushing one of the shopping carts as Shotaro and Sohee trailed behind him. In reality, they should be ahead, but they stopped far too often to point at random things and Sungchan was getting impatient. The three of them were on snack duty, while you, Eunseok and Wonbin were on ingredients duty, as you were the best cooks. Anton and Seunghan had skipped away the second you all arrived and every so often passed by and dumped an armful of things in the cart.

"What kind of crisps should we get?" Shotaro placed his hands on his hips and examined the vast wall of options in front of him. He picked out a few, Sohee following also and placed them in the cart.

Sungchan spotted a rare flavour to find, "They have truffle flavour! Let's get this. I think Y/N likes these."

"How'd you know that, hyung?" Sohee questioned, not interrogatively, just nonchalantly.

"Uh- I think she's mentioned it before," Sungchan stammered, "Let's get drinks."

Shotaro shot him an unsure look, but skipped ahead of the cart anyway to find the beverage aisle. From a few aisles down, Sungchan could hear you laughing with Wonbin and Eunseok and he wished he was by your side.

Eventually, you all converged at the checkouts, carts full and wallets about to be emptied, metaphorically. You had chosen a bunch of meats to grill on the patio down to the beach and lots of ingredients to make side dishes and other random things. The three in charge of cooking followed their task diligently, whereas Anton and Seunghan had produced a pool floater, a bunch of water guns and so many hangover sticks that you were all worried about how much Seunghan was going to force everyone to drink.

You returned to the house in two cars, the same groupings as how you came to the house and rapidly unpacked everything.

"Today, Eunseok, Wonbin and Seunghan are in charge of lunch for everyone," Shotaro declared, "We'll take turns making food each mealtime!"

Everyone made noises of agreement, slowly dispersing through the house as the cooks brainstormed what to serve.

"Does anyone want to go on a walk on the beach? I haven't seen it yet," Sungchan queried to no one in particular. Anton and Shotaro had turned around guiltily from where they were crouched under the TV. You could see that they were fiddling with some wires and powering on the console that they brought to the house. Ah, boys.

"Gonna play FIFA," Shotaro held up the game case sheepishly, "Maybe later?"

"I'll come with you now," you offered slowly, "I love the beach!"

Sungchan gave you a knowing smile and turned to Sohee, "What about you?"

Sohee looked up at you and Sungchan and then down to Anton and Shotaro, who had widened their eyes in order to communicate with him. He opened his mouth and spoke hesitantly, "Uh, I wanna play as well. Is it okay?"

"Mhm, suit yourself," Sungchan shrugged, happy on the inside that he had found a way to be alone with you.

The two of you slipped on more suitable footwear and grabbed a few snacks before heading out onto the beach.

(Meanwhile, Shotaro, Anton and Sohee were smirking in the living room, delighted that their own devious plan to get you and Sungchan together was coming into effect.)

"That was easy," Sungchan chuckled as you chose a direction to walk down.

"Surprisingly! You know how much Sohee loves the beach!" you frowned again but shook out the suspicion, "Whatever. I'm happy to spend time with you."

The second you were far enough from clear view from the house, Sungchan had interlaced his fingers with yours, happily swinging your conjoined arms between you. With his other hand, he ran it through his fluffy brown locks and basked in the soft breeze of being down by the ocean.

The beach was fortunately pretty deserted of people, since it wasn't terribly hot in climate yet, but there were a couple of people dotted around closer to the water.

"This is definitely what a healing trip is made of," he sighed contently, "That was a hard season."

Facing your own challenges didn't mean that the boys also weren't experiencing some hardships of their own. You know that Sohee was taking it hard with some injuries and Sungchan had only introduced his hardest combination the season just past, which is never easy.

"We all deserve a little break," you agreed, "To spend time with each other and definitely not talk or think about skating at all."

"What a dream," Sungchan was too elated being on this trip and it had barely begun, "Here with my best friends and my best girl."

You had stopped in your tracks and punched him softly in the chest, "Don't say that!"

He lowered his neck to meet you at your eye-level, "Why? Did it give you butterflies?"

You scoffed, pushing him away from you, but he decided to wrap his arms around you instead and sway your bodies around.

"You're too bold now, Jung Sungchan," you huffed, "Where's the boy that never speaks whenever we're around people? And the boy that blushed every time we kissed in secret?"

"He found out that the girl he liked likes him back and was giving him a chance to woo her off her feet!" Sungchan poked his tongue out at you and finally let you go, returning to your linked hands and continuing to walk.

"Woo?" you laughed at his teasing.

He nodded affirmatively, "Yeah, woo. Have you been woo'ed?"

You looked away for a second, hesitant to be so candid with him, but you figured that if he was so bold, you couldn't let this chance slip away.

"You're my ideal man, Sungchanie," you admitted quietly, "I like everything about you. I like having you by my side."

His face heated up so suddenly, so far removed from the confidence that was radiating off him just seconds ago. His heart was beating out of his chest as he tried to utter his words as casually as possible, "Enough to make me your boyfriend?"

You nibbled on your bottom lip to stop you from freaking out and smiling like a maniac, "Is that a confession? Is this our evaluation?"

"You already know I like you," he affirmed softly, "If you're ready for a relationship and if you're ready to have me in that way, you're in control."

You were still walking, barely looking at each other and too shy.

"Ask me."

"What?"

"Ask me the question," you whined as he seemed to play dumb.

Sungchan grinned down at you, his bambi eyes sparkling in the sun as he shook his hair out of them. He paused your stroll momentarily, turning to face you and closing the distance between your feet.

He nudged his nose against yours, a favourite move of his as he took a deep breath, "Y/N," he began slowly, "Please can I be your boyfriend?"

"Sungchan!" you laughed suddenly, "The question is 'will you be my girlfriend?'"

"That's not enough to express how much I want to be your boyfriend though," he pouted, "Doesn't matter, just give me an answer."

You threw your arms around his neck, still giggling, "Of course you can be my boyfriend, Jung Sungchan. I'm sorry you've been on trial period for like 5 months now."

Sungchan connected his lips to yours, giving you a soft peck, "Don't be sorry. I just wanted to show you how much I wanted to be there for you."

"And thank you for that. I couldn't have gotten through this season without you," you proclaimed gently.

He bumped his shoulders with yours as he took your hand again, "Don't get too sappy. You'll probably hate us by the end of this trip."

"I swear, if you guys don't clean after yourselves and leave the bathroom messy and dirty, I'll kill you all!" you remarked.

Sungchan laughed heartily- a sound that you had grown to adore over the past few months when you would share hushed conversations getting to know each other over the phone at night and calls whenever your schedules aligned. The two of you walked a little further, just talking about your plans for the trip and pointing out the cute, but also the endearingly ugly, dogs that were running around the beach. Eventually, Eunseok had texted you that lunch was nearly cooked and for the two of you to start heading back.

You couldn't believe that you left the beach house in a situationship and came back as a girlfriend! In fact, you probably still hadn't processed the fact that the Jung Sungchan was finally your boyfriend after all these years of creating boundaries and drawing lines to protect yourself and your heart.

All this time, Sungchan was your right person, wrong time, but you were so happy to be able to say that he stayed by your side long enough to become your right person at the right time.

⋆｡°✩

You were breathless and pliant in Sungchan's hold as he pressed feather-light kisses along your neck. He peppered them across your jaw, ending at the corner of your mouth before pulling away.

"Just kiss me," you begged as he smirked above you. Sungchan loved seeing you like this and now that you were officially his, it ignited a new spark in his heart that had always beat for you anyway.

It was past halfway through the beach trip and you had spent the past week lounging around on the beach and exploring the seaside town together. You spent mornings taking walks with the boys, the afternoon sunbathing and relaxing under parasols on the beach and the evening huddled around a bonfire just talking, singing and reminiscing. You were hard-pressed to find time alone with Sungchan, but you didn't mind since you came with the intention to hang out with your best friends and the new season wasn't going into full effect for a few months anyway.

Despite that, Sungchan had been sneaking into your room either before the others woke up or after they went to sleep, usually just to say goodnight and pillow talk, but sometimes to also make out like you were doing now.

Light flooded into the room from the expansive bay window, bathing Sungchan's face in sunlight. His twinkling eyes against his golden skin made you want to stare in them forever.

You were snapped out of your daydream when you heard a door click open and then close behind someone, and then footsteps on the hardwood floor. You pushed Sungchan off of you and he rushed over to sit at the bay window while you straightened out your bed and your clothes to give the illusion that your boyfriend hadn't been attacking you with his lips for the past half an hour.

You could hear a few more doors open and then close, before a knock on your door sounded out. Gingerly, you shuffled to your door and peeked out to find a sleepy and dishevelled Seunghan.

"Noona, have you seen Sungchan-hyung? He's not in bed," he was blinking slowly, as if trying to adjust to the natural light in your room. As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, you opened the door wider and pointed sheepishly at the missing boy.

"Hey, I woke up early and couldn't go back to sleep so me and Y/N were just talking and planning the day," Sungchan hummed as casually as he could muster up, "Do you need something?"

You let Seunghan inside your room and he immediately collapsed on your four-poster bed, sighing as he felt the soft sheets hit his head, "Nah, just wondering where you went and if you guys suddenly all decided to wake up and do something without me."

"You know everyone's so hard to get up in the morning," you mused, "Sungchan and I are the only morning people."

"You must have got closer then," Seunghan mumbled to himself, eyes fluttering shut, "That's good, noona. You weren't always as close to hyung."

You sat criss-cross next to his body as you shot Sungchan a pointed look. Was this the time you were going to reveal your relationship to the others? Sneaking around for the past week had been exhilarating, but it did weigh on the two of you to keep such a big secret from them.

"We're going to the fair today, right?" he carried on, breaking the tension between you and your boyfriend.

"Mhm, so you better get up and wake the others up so we can have breakfast and get going," you told him as he groaned. Sungchan was just smiling at you lazily from the window, watching your sweet and maternal interaction with the younger boy. You prodded Seunghan a few more times before he finally rolled away and off the bed and Sungchan followed him out of the door, giving you a small wave goodbye.

You slowly got yourself ready for the day ahead, knowing it was going to take a while before all 7 of the boys could wake up and get refreshed enough to leave. By the time you were done, the youngest ones were preparing breakfast in the kitchen, singing along to the song on the radio perched on a floating shelf.

"Need any help?" you cast your eyes over Sohee and Anton who grinned happily as they saw you for the first time.

"Mhm, no," Sohee assured you, leading you to the already set dining table and pointing at the food, "We're nearly done so you can just wait for us or start eating if you want."

For the duration of the entire trip, it seemed like the boys were determined to not let you lift a finger. Although you were happy to help in cooking and cleaning, every time you were on the rotation, whoever was with you would work hard and take a lot of your work off you. Then again, the boys had always been sweet to you. Of course, they were funny, teasing and ridiculous, but at the core of it, they treated you like their little sister even though you were older than most of them. You really think that you couldn't have lucked out more with a friendship group and found family.

Anton served an over hard egg on your plate and you noticed that the rest on the serving plate was filled with sunny-side up eggs. See, they even paid attention to your food preferences.

Seunghan was next to come down, more wide awake than when you saw him last and seemingly energised by the prospect of food. He sat on your right, quickly scooping all of the dishes he wanted but stopping himself from eating until everyone came down.

Wonbin and Shotaro descended next, complaining about how long each other took to shower and get ready, but Eunseok came right behind them hair still dripping, to your chagrin as he made the floors slippery. Sungchan finally came down just moments later and took the empty seat next to you.

"Yay, let's eat!" Anton clapped his hands together as you completed the table.

"Wonbin-hyung, you'll go on the rides with us today, right?" Sohee crunched through his sausage.

"No, you can't force me to do anything," he grumbled and the rest of you chuckled at the man you knew to be so scared of fast and high rides, "I can watch over our stuff if you do go."

That was exactly the coversation you were having 2 hours later as all 8 of you stood in front of the tallest and fastest rollercoaster at the fair. In all honesty, it wasn't even that big and scary considering it was only a small fair that moved around, so the rides had to be simple to deconstruct. Even still, Wonbin planted his feet on the ground and firmly shook his head.

"But there's an uneven number of us," Shotaro whined, tugging at Bin's arm, "C'mon, just this once?"

He pouted and batted his long eyelashes as Anton sighed, "It's okay, I'll stay with hyung. I don't feel that good after that hot dog anyway."

Looking around, all of you had accepted defeat, so you joined the short line for the ride and immediately began grouping yourselves into pairs. At the one amusement park you had joined them at since you guys became friends, you stuck by Shotaro's side the whole time as you were still opening yourself up to the others. This time, you didn't really mind as Sohee linked arms with your boyfriend.

As the line progressed and you were at the front, Eunseok made his way to the back of the pack with you and helped you into the cart before sitting by your side. The climb up was decently steep and you could hear and feel the vibrations of the rails under you. You could also see Sohee still clutching Sungchan's arm and Seunghan and Shotaro preparing to raise their arms up when the ride plummeted.

As it slowly approached the peak, Eunseok cleared his throat, "You guys are pretty obvious, you know?"

You snapped your head so fast that even this rollercoaster couldn't give you the whiplash you gave yourself, "What?"

The ride was so rickety and loud that the boys in front of you couldn't hear you as Eunseok smirked, "You and Channie. Well at least to me you're obvious."

You opened your mouth to say something along the lines of you had no idea what he was talking about, but suddenly the ride dropped and a scream erupted from your throat. From beside you, Eunseok was nearly doubling over in laughter at how he caught you so flustered and shocked.

"Yah, don't run away from me," Eunseok laughed, calling after you as you gave him a pointed stare and ran ahead to catch up to Wonbin and Anton first.

Sungchan with his long strides reached you quickly, "What was that about?"

Anton and Wonbin's eyes were trained on you, so you merely waved your hand and dismissed it, "Nothing, just some nonsense."

You were grateful that Eunseok didn't say anything else when he arrived at the fence the others were waiting at, but for the rest of the fair, he would give you teasing smiles whenever you got so much as remotely close to Sungchan.

The sun was about to set and you were all nearly tired enough to go home. Between the big rides, the boys put on their competitive hats and kept challenging each other to the stalls that were known to be scams. They were probably blowing all of their prize money between them, but you had to keep walking back and forth between the fair and your cars since they were accumulating far too many plushies to hold.

"Just one more," Sungchan pleaded so cutely that you were resigned to say yes to, "Then we can go home after! Song Eunseok! Do this one with me!"

He was tugging on your arm, pointing at the basketball booth before slinging his arm around Eunseok's shoulder and dragging him along. Behind you, the youngests were happily munching on long churro sticks that Shotaro had bought for them, meanwhile he was conversing with Wonbin behind them.

"Loser has to grill all the meat later," Eunseok bargained. It was the two of them on main dinner duty once you returned to the house.

"Well what if we both win?" Sungchan huffed.

"Doubt it," Eunseok chuckled, as he handed over his bills to the booth manager.

You rolled your eyes at their antics- everyone knew that the basketball hoops were oval shaped and the chance of getting a ball in was slim. Even still, they both paid for the highest amount of balls in order to have the chance to win the biggest prize. If they got three balls through the hoop, then they could pick from the large prizes.

The boys finally caught up to you guys and sighed at the competition they saw in front of them. Eunseok was very passionate about basketball and Sungcham was very passionate about winning.

"No cheating," Sungchan swatted at Eunseok, who narrowed his eyes playfully.

They both began, the rest of you cheering them on. Both of them missed their first two shots, and they had to make the last 3 to win the big prize. Surprisingly, they also both were able to shoot the next two together, and were staring each other down as they picked up the last basketball.

"You're going down, Song Eunseok," Sungchan taunted, sticking his tongue out. Eunseok rolled his eyes and decided to shoot first at the hoop. You all watched in anticipation as the ball hit the rim... and then bounced off. Eunseok screamed in defeat and all eyes were turned to Sungchan.

He carefully examined the hoop and decided to just go for it. You were all shocked that it went in!

Sunchan whooped in glee, taunting Eunseok before throwing his arm around your shoulder. That was a pretty normal thing for the other boys to do to you, but it certainly wasn't the way Sungchan used to interact with you.

"You can choose the prize, Y/N," he grinned down at you, pointing at the array of large animal plushies attached around the booth.

You gasped as you laid your eyes on the most perfect choice and you leaned into his touch as you pointed it out, "That one!"

The booth attendant took it off its hook and handed it over to you. Gleefully, you held it up to Sungchan and cooed, "It looks just like you, Channie!"

Sungchan was smiling so dorkily at how the large baby deer plushie was making you so happy, and you were both too busy cooing at the plushie to notice the boys, jaws dropped and watching you.

"Uh," Wonbin uttered, "What's going on here?"

The silence that fell caused you and Sungchan to turn around, and upon realising their reaction, you jumped away from each other, still both holding the plushie.

"What do you mean?" Sungchan scratched his neck awkwardly, "You all got a prize for Y/N earlier. I wanted to as well."

Seunghan nodded slowly, "Okay, okay. Sure. But we just got small prizes."

"Is it my fault that I was good at this?" Sungchan retorted as he began walking your group towards the car park. You scurried behind him, hugging the deer close to your chest.

You fell back a little from Sungchan and slowed your footsteps since the boys behind you started whispering to themselves.

"I think Operation Sung-Y/N is working!" Sohee whisper-hissed. You raised your eyebrow at that. There's no way, right? There's no way that they were doing a whole scheme to set you up together with your boyfriend- not that they know that.

You decided not to confront them and joined Sungchan's side again. He had turned to talk to you, but saw you had slowed down so he had stopped in his tracks and waited for you. Sungchan sighed to himself as he watched you bound over with the plushie. He wished he could be in your embrace the way that plushie was connected to you. Frankly, he should have just told everyone else right then as they got suspicious, but he had a feeling you wanted to do it more lowkey.

Later on that night, Sungchan was lying on top of your sheets as you played with his hair. It was his turn to hug the deer- the only one that made it to your bed as you banished the other plushies the boys gave you onto the windowsill.

The others were all downstairs, either preparing the side dishes and preparing the grill or fighting each other on the playstation.

"We can tell them tomorrow," you sighed happily. his hair was so soft and bouncy that it instantly bounced back to its spot after you ran your hand through it, "And then we'll have 2 days here to act like a couple."

"Ah, two days," Sungchan sighed, "When am I going to see you again after that? I want to take you on a proper date, finally."

You gasped to yourself, bringing your hands to your mouth. Sungchan sat up quickly, eyebrows stitched together in worry, "Oh, what's up? What's wrong?"

You began laughing to yourself and Sungchan looked at you like you had grow two heads, "I forgot to tell you guys completely! I have some news for you all!"

"Ah, what is it?"

"I'm going to train in Seoul this season!"

Sungchan yelped in surprise, suddenly attacking you in a hug down onto the bed, "Oh my gosh, really? Are you serious? It's not a joke right?"

You giggled happily as he attacked your face wiyh kisses, "You know my coach Lina? Well, she's pregnant and she asked if I would be willing to relocate to Seoul so she could be around her family and her husband's family! She wants to receive maternal care here, so," you trailed off.

"Oh my, I'm so happy," Sungchan breathed out, "You mean I won't have to wait months in between competitions to come and see you? I can see you everyday?"

"Hey, you have a skating career too," you poked his chest, "Make sure you focus on that. But if it works, then sure! I'm going apartment hunting as soon as we all drive back up to Seoul!"

Sungchan was so elated, dreaming about all his favourite places that he would take you, "Ah, I think there's an apartment empty in our building. Do you want me to ask our management team?"

The boys all lived in the same building, some of them sharing and some of them living alone since there were various apartment layouts. You recalled that Sungchan lived with Shotaro on the 7th floor of the building, but you had only visited twice before.

You had a thought about declining his offer. Maybe it was moving too fast for you if you moved into his apartment building, but then again, the rest of your friends were there too and it wasn't like you were moving into his room. The thought of having all of them around often and being able to guide you through the city comforted you, so you just gave him an appreciative smile and nodded, "Mhm, that would be nice."

A happy sound escaped his throat and you're certain that moving to Seoul was the best move for you at this stage. Sungchan flipped you around so he was below you and you hovering over him. He brought his hand up to your face, tucking your hair out of your eyes and settling his large palms on your soft cheeks.

He guided your face down and you could feel his breath ghosting over your mouth. Sungchan connected his eyes with yours, "I really, really like you, Y/N. Thank you for giving me a chance."

Stealing his move, you grazed your nose against his, "You tell me that everyday, baby. I really, really like you too. I'm excited for this new season."

It wasn't just a new season of figure skating where you were going to debut new programs. It was a whole new season in your life. It felt like you could finally release yourself from the shackles of the bad moments of your past and start anew- a new country, and a new boyfriend.

He craned his neck up to softly touch your lips together, but he hadn't made any other moves, so you slid your arms around his neck and melted into his chest, parting his lips with yours and deepening the kiss.

You have always loved kissing Sungchan. His kisses seemed to heal every pain and suffering in the world and made you forget even your own name sometimes. He was always a passionate person, tending to your whines and requests whenever you got frustrated and he was teasing you. You don't know how, but since becoming his girlfriend, kissing him felt even better than it did before.

You were so engrossed in each other that you hadn't even heard the footsteps coming up the stairs, or Seunghan's soft calls for you, or his knocking on the door, or the way the door creaked as he opened it.

"Yah!" his scream caused Sungchan to sit up so hard and fast that you fell off of him and onto the floor, "My eyes!"

Sungchan smoothed his clothes out in a panic and yelped in apology as he helped you up from the floor. He scowled at his younger friend, "Do you know how to knock?"

"I did!" Seunghan exclaimed, throwing his hands up, "I even called for you, noona! Ah, I'm so traumatised! How can I get that out of my head?"

Your face must have been as red as the way it flushes when you get drunk as you just watched silently against the bed.

"Hey, what's going on? Hurry up, we wanna eat!" Wonbin appeared behind Seunghan who was still rubbing his eyes, unable to believe what he saw. Wonbin looked at him, confused by his reaction and the yells, "What happened?"

Suddenly, the other 4 boys all came out of nowhere too, crammed in the small hallway and looking between you on the bed, Sungchan closer to the door and Seunghan just on the other side.

"I caught them," Seunghan dramatically screeched, throwing his arms around Wonbin, "I caught them!"

"Caught them doing what?" Shotaro frowned.

"Making out!" Seunghan screamed, to which the rest of the boys started yelling in surprise too, suddenly firing questions at you and Sungchan, who was looking worriedly and apologetically at you.

"I knew it!" Eunseok smirked.

"Oh my God?" Anton gasped quietly and Sohee was mirroring his reaction.

"Are you guys fucking?" Seunghan was still dramatically wailing.

Sungchan scoffed, offended, "No! Well-" he looked at you, giving you the choice to give as much information.

"We're in a relationship," you revealed softly, laughing at their dropped jaws, "Well, only since the trip. We've been getting to know each other since Paris."

"Paris?" Wonbin gawked, "Paris? So when we asked you who you went to Paris with and you said no one, you actually were with Sungchan-hyung?"

"Yeah," you tilted your head and scratched the back of your neck, "Sorry for some white lies we've had to tell. We just wanted to keep it to ourselves for a bit, navigate new territories and make sure it doesn't affect our friendship with you guys."

Shotaro stepped into the room, huddling over to give you a hug, "Well we're all happy for you both. Besides, we were all conspiring to set you two up this trip."

"We were so proud at how well it was working," Sohee cried out, "Turns out we're the fools!"

You think back through the trip at the instances they created to get you alone together, whether it was taking quick trips to the grocery store because they 'forgot' an ingredient, or just leaving you two behind whenever you were walking and relaxing on the beach. You were thankful the boys were so silly to create a plan like that, otherwise you couldn't have spent so much time with your new boyfriend on the healing trip.

"It's okay guys," Sungchan grinned lopsidedly, "It was funny to watch." "Um," Seunghan interrupted, "I actually came up cause I was coming to tell you that dinner was ready."

Eunseok nodded, turning on his heel, "Yeah, I'm really hungry. Can we talk about this over barbecue instead?"

The rest of the boys nodded in agreement, making their way down the stairs. You sighed heavily, looking at Sungchan who placed a loving kiss on your hair, "That was so chaotic. Are we okay, though?"

You smiled up at him and took his hand pulling you up, "More than okay. They were bound to find out and they're all so happy about it."

Sungchan splayed his palm against yours and then locked your fingers together, "Ah, wait til you tell them about moving to Seoul. They'll forget this news instantly!"

You let the grin invade your face as you happily imagined the way they'd cheer and instantly bombard you with outings to do and places to visit together in Seoul. You were definitely certain now that your relationship with Sungchan wasn't going to change your friendship.

"Lovers, come on!" Eunseok yelled up the stairs, "The food is getting cold so stop making out!"

Well, maybe a little bit. But as long as you were able to call Sungchan yours, you were sure you could endure anything.

--------------------------

a/n: thank you for reading:) pls let me know what you think<3

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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

Note

hello mae! you said that you’re tentatively thinking about doing poly! jily? how about them x shy!reader who is used to spending holidays alone but now that she’s in a relationship, James and Lily wanna give her experiences of like carving pumpkins, baking cookies, or something like that.

just cute and domestic fall activities!! I hope that’s enough.

Thank you for requesting lovely!

poly!Jily x shy!reader ♡ 845 words

You smile, and James plants his lips on your cheek just before the flash.

“Perfect,” Lily says while the camera whirs. She takes the photo it spits out, going to stow it in a shady corner of the porch.

“Now one with you,” James urges.

“No.” Lily waves him off as you second James’ request. “How would we get all of us and our pumpkins in it?”

“James has long arms,” you say.

"Yeah, Evans." James grabs you roughly around the shoulders, making your face heat even as you smile. "I have long arms. Give it here."

After some debate Lily hands over the camera. James holds it out as far as he can, waiting until you’re all holding up your jack-o-lanterns before pressing the button.

It goes beside the other photo, waiting for the film to develop. You know as soon as it does, both photos will be clustered in with the others on James and Lily’s fridge, held up by magnets beginning to lose their strength under the weight of so many. Lily has always liked to take pictures, and ever since you got together she’s been cramming ones of you into every empty space. This relationship is relatively new for you, and most days you’re still trying to figure out where you fit, but Lily and James do everything to make you feel welcome. In a million tiny ways, they show you all the time that they care just as much for you as they do for each other.

James looks between your pumpkins pridefully. “Whose do we think turned out the best?”

“Lily’s,” you say at the same time as Lily says, “Mine.”

James’ mouth falls open. “Mine was good too!”

“Sorry, Jamie.” You give his shoulder a consoling pat. “Hers is just better.”

The fact of the matter is, your girlfriend was simply patient where you and James were not. She outlined her jack-o-lantern’s face beforehand in marker, used a small knife to achieve the curvatures of one heart-shaped eye and one winking one, and took the time to make the edges of her cuts look nice and clean. James and you, however, tried to freehand things with much larger knives; it had not gone quite so well.

“I think there should be points for creativity,” says James, frowning at his botched pumpkin. He’d tried to give it round eyes, and in the process accidentally cut more than he meant to. The result is jagged and vaguely upsetting, so eventually he decided it was an ill pumpkin and trailed its entrails out of its mouth so it looks like it’s vomiting pumpkin guts.

“It was a very creative solution,” Lily tells James. And to you, “You did really well for your first time, too, sweetheart.”

You snort. Yours is nearly as bad as James’. Both of your partners had to show you how to saw through the pumpkin flesh more than once to keep you from yanking the knife out and stabbing yourself. After many tutorials, you’d managed two triangle-shaped eyes, but the teeth you’d tried to put in your jack-o-lantern’s mouth had fallen out, so now it just looks like a rather simplistic, very upbeat face.

“You did,” Lily insists, but she’s repressing a laugh too as she looks down at your pumpkin. “It’s cute.”

“It looks like something a five-year-old could have done,” you acknowledge.

“You and a five-year-old have about the same amount of experience carving pumpkins, so that’s not really so bad,” says James. He reaches for the polaroids Lily took. “Let’s see how these turned out.”

“James Potter,” Lily’s voice goes sharp, “don’t you dare touch those with your slimy hands.”

“Okay, alright.” James holds his hands up in the air. He stands instead, backing away slowly like Lily has him at gunpoint. “C’mon, lovie, let’s go fish the seeds out in the sink.”

“What for?” you ask, following him as he carries your large bowl of pumpkin entrails inside.

“If you separate the seeds and roast them, you can eat them.” James raises his eyebrows at you. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had pumpkin seeds before.”

“Nope.”

“Ugh. You poor, deprived girl.” James takes your face in his hands, and you smile despite the slick feeling of his pumpkin-y fingers on your cheeks. His eyebrows scrunch pityingly as he kisses above your nose. “We’ll right that wrong today, sweetheart, don’t you worry.”

“You haven’t been missing out on much,” Lily says, slipping past the two of you with your photos. She wedges them underneath a magnet on the fridge. “It’s a lot of effort for a snack.”

“She only says that because she can’t stand the guts,” James tells you conspiratorially.

“Really?” You mash your hands into the stringy pumpkin bits. “I kind of like them.”

Lily makes a face. “They’re all slimy and weird. And sticky.”

“Wimp,” James teases.

“You’ve just called them guts, James. In what world does that sound appealing?”

“Angel,” James says in a quiet voice, “you’ll protect me, won’t you?”

You frown at him. “Why?”

He picks up a small mass of pumpkin guts and lobs it at your girlfriend.

“James!”

510 notes · View notes

buckyalpine · 1 year ago

Text

Fluff, domestic cuteness, more fluff, I know it’s not everyone’s thing but pleaseee hear me out; just imagine beeeefy paramedic Bucky taking care of you when you’re in labor. You’re ex decided to leave halfway, realizing he wasn’t ready to be a father when you were already midway through your pregnancy, not that he was much help in the first place. You managed all on your own, ready to bring your little baby into the world all by yourself which is exactly how you ended up in this situation.

You were so close to your due date, ready to pop at any moment but your cravings for a donut didn't cease so you waddled down to the corner coffee shop in hopes of getting something with double chocolate.

Everything was fine until another customer bumped into you, sending you tumbling to the floor. A sudden sharp searin pain began to radiate through the lower half of your belly making you cry out in pain and it didn't take long for a crowd to form, the number of shouting voices and concerned faces adding to your growing anxiety. Al elderly woman held you hand while you tried to hold back tears; you couldn't get up, still laying on the floor when the faint sound of an ambulance grew louder.

A firm voice cleared the path, 2 large men walking towards you, ushering the crowd away from you first. The one with brunette hair crouches over to you, giving you a comforting smile before asking you a few quick basic questions, all while neatly looking over you for any signs of a major injury.

“Up you go, mama” he lifted you up with 0 effort, carrying you carefully in his thick arms, laying you down gently onto the stretcher. A sudden contraction rips through you causing you to panic more while your on your way to the hospital but he takes your hand in his, giving it a squeeze.

"Hey, its okay, look at me doll, focus on me alright?" He continue to hold your hand while monitoring your heart rate and vitals, timing your contractions since they're happening closer and closer together. "I know it won't make the pain go away but how about I try and distract you, hm? My names James but you can call me Bucky" He threw you a wink while you tried your best to focus on the feel of his hand, calloused palms from lifting, yet soft and warm. You focused on his baby blue eyes and scruffy beard and sweet pink lips that curve into a half smile; no doubt he was a shy charmer.

As soon as the ambulance stops, you're whisked away to the delivery ward, poked and prodded by doctors again. None of this was part of the plan and the pain was getting worse.

"How's she doing" Bucky came by the ward on his break, curious about the sweet thing he helped earlier in the day; surely you had a partner of some sort but he couldn't help himself nonetheless. The doctor directed him to your room, his heart breaking seeing your tear streaked, terrified face.

"Everything alright, mama?" He knew you were scared, hell, he was scared himself just thinking about the situation. He rested his hand on top of yours, careful not to touch anywhere near needles. You'd been at this hospital for 2 hours already and you were still alone without another visitor in sight. "Is uh-anyone-do you want me to call anyone-

You shook your head, biting down on your lip to keep it from trembling, gripping onto him tighter. The pain was becoming unbearable, alerting the doctor and nurse to check on you again.

"She's gonna have to start pushing" You overheard the nurse as she spoke to the doctor, your heartrate racing more. Your panic stricken face wasn't missed by Bucky, still planted in his seat as if he had any business being there. He debated on if you felt comfortable with him there, ready to go or stay, whatever you needed.

"Doll, it's almost time, I can leave-

"Please-please don't go" You shakily cling onto his hand, now frozen in fear when you realize the moment is coming. The baby is almost here and you're alone. There's no one here to support you, no one here to-

"M'not going anywhere, I'm here, you're doin' great" Bucky let you squeeze his hand as tightly as you wanted, coaching you through your breathing while you were prepared to have the baby. "C'mon, push mama, you can do it, almost there"

You were in tears, sweating, crying, and Bucky couldn't help but find you beautiful. Not that he'd say that right then and there but there was something so raw and powerful in that moment, seeing you give yourself to bring in another life. He watched in awe as you fought with your body to push a human out of you.

"One more, just one more and your little one is here, you can do it doll, one last big push" He dabbed your forehead with a cool cloth, comforting you until you let out a final gasp, tiny screams filling the room. You fall back against the bed panting and he still holds your hand, gently rubbing your knuckles while giving you a proud smile.

"You did it, you did amazing mama"

After your baby boy is born, you still occasionally visit the hospital for checkups. You can't help the way your cheeks heat up every time you see Bucky, giving him a shy smile, lingering to talk to him longer than necessary every time you see him. You insisted on buying him and the rest of the paramedic crew coffee and donuts for helping you safely deliver your baby boy. Bucky blushes when you give him an extra donuts as a special thank you.

Each time he sees you, he likes you even more but he doesn't want to push his luck. Not when you're probably still trying to figure things out. Initially he's a little unsure, wanting to give you some space. He's also careful not to overstep any boundaries, making sure he's respectful.

Eventually he can't help himself.

He has to ask you out.

And he does.

3 years and a wedding later

You giggle watching your husband and son both press their heads against your swollen belly, whispering secrets to the little one growing inside as if you couldn't see them.

"Daddy, can she hear us?" Daniel asks with wide eyes, his little hands trying to feel the places where his baby sister was kicking.

"She can hear you baby, let her know you're gonna be her big brother" Bucky chuckled while Daniel continued to talk to your belly like he did every night ever since you found out you were pregnant.

"I can't wait to meet you" He hugs your tummy before crawling into Bucky's arms, ready to go to bed. Bucky takes him to his room, laying him down and tucking him in, pressing a kiss to his head before turning off the lights.

"Sleep tight little man"

"Night, daddy"

Your second pregnancy is nothing like your fist. Bucky is there by your side for every second of it. He takes time off work, cradling your belly so you don't have back pain. He reads up on books to take care of your cravings. He worships your changing body.

"Look at you, Mrs. Barnes" Bucky cooed, loving the way you filled out his Henley, your little belly stretching it while you pouted at him.

"I'm huge Bucky" you whined while he grinned, rubbing your tummy.

"S'cause you're carrying my baby, mama" He kissed your head, his large form scooping you up for some midday cuddles. He holds your close to his chest, excited over his growing family. You smile against his chest, closing your eyes while he rubs your back.

You're so happy you decided you wanted a donut.

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fairqves · 7 months ago

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⋆ ｡⋆୨୧˚— I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU !

𝜗𝜚 ༘⋆ ⋆˙pairing. enemy! park jongseong x fem! reader synopsis. you and jay had always despised each other- at least that’s what you thought until jay got a girlfriend, your true hidden feelings making its way to the surface- uh oh.. genre. angst ,, fluff ,, wc. 2500. 𝐥u𝐧a notes ⋆.˚ this is so labyrinth coded 🫧 — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂

if you enjoyed reading, please like & reblog !! <3

YOU HAD KNOWN PARK JONGSEONG FOR AS LONG AS YOU COULD REMEMBER, AND YOU HATED HIM FOR NEARLY JUST AS LONG.

from the very first moment you laid eyes on him in kindergarten, he had been nothing but a thorn in your side. it all started when you had asked the young boy to be friends- instead of a yes, you got water spat on your face as he cackled at you- yes, cackled.

you despised him. his teasing, his smirks, his constant attempts to one-up you in every single aspect of life—it all grated on your nerves, day after day.

the relationship between you and jay was well-known. your friends and family had long since accepted it as a fact of life. you couldn't bare to stand him, and he couldn't stand you. it’s as simple as that.

until it wasn't.

the first crack in your carefully constructed wall of hatred came when jay got a girlfriend. her name was minji, and she was everything you were not—soft-spoken, gentle, and sweet. she was always by his side, laughing at his jokes, holding his hand. it shouldn't have mattered to you at all. in fact, you should have been relieved. if he was busy with his girlfriend, maybe he would leave you alone for once in your years of living.

but it didn't feel like relief. it felt like something else entirely, something you knew was wrong, something sharp and painful that you couldn't quite place. you found yourself watching them more than you would care to admit, your eyes drawn to the way he looked at her, his eyes sparkling, the way he touched her. and with each passing day, the ache in your chest grew stronger, more insistent. more unbearable.

you really did try to ignore it, to push it away deep inside of you and pretend it didn't exist, but it was no use. the feelings you had harboured for so long, hidden beneath layers of anger, resentment, and pride were bubbling up to the surface. you were falling for him, and you were falling deep. it was the most terrifying thing you had ever experienced as a teenage girl.

so, you did the only reasonable thing you could think of, you avoided him. you stopped going to places where you knew he would be, you stopped engaging in the petty arguments that had once been a staple of your interactions and everyday life. you had distanced yourself as much as you possibly could, hoping that the feelings would fade away with time.

but jay noticed. of course he did. and he didn't like it one bit.

one evening after school, after yet another successful day of avoiding jay, you found yourself cornered in the hallway of your apartment building, which he knew the address of from a day where you were sick, and delivered you your missed homework and soup, which he claimed he was forced to deliver to you.

he had been waiting for you, his expression a mixture of confusion, a bit of sadness? and anger.

"what's your problem, y/n?" he demanded, his voice low and tense. "why have you been avoiding me, huh?"

you crossed your arms, shaking off the butterflies from talking to him for the first time in weeks, trying to keep your composure. "i haven't been avoiding you," you lied, your voice shaken and unsteady

"bullshit," he snapped. "you've been avoiding me for weeks. did i do something to piss you off more than usual? because if i did, ill fix it.”

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "it's nothing, don’t worry. just leave me alone, jay."

"no," he said, stepping closer. "i won't leave you alone until you tell me what's going on, y/n." he whispered.

his proximity made it hard to breathe, let alone think. the scent of his cologne, the intensity of his gaze—it was all way too much for you to bare. you could feel the walls you had so carefully built around your heart beginning to crumble.

"why do you care?" you shot back, your voice trembling anxiously. "you have minji now. go bother her for all i care!”

jay's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening with a frown. "this isn't about minji. this is about you and me. why are you avoiding me?"

"because i can't stand you! being around you!" you shouted angrily, the words bursting from you before you could stop them.

"why?" he demanded, his voice rising. "what did i do that's so bad you can't even be in the same room as me?"

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. but the emotions that have been building inside you the past few weeks were too strong, too overwhelming. you couldn't keep them bottled up any longer.

"because i’m in love with you, okay?" you yelled, tears streaming down your face. "i love you, and it hurts to see you with somebody that’s not me..”

for a moment, there was silence. jay stared at you, his eyes wide with shock. the world seemed to stand still, the only sound the pounding of your heart in your ears, as you cursed under your breathe shutting your eyes anxiously in panic.

"you… love me?" he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded, unable to speak. the confession had left you feeling raw and vulnerable, and you didn't know what to do next.

jay's expression hardened, and without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your heart shattered into a million pieces as you fell onto your knees and sobbed, you sobbed for your broken heart and for the loss of the relationship you had with jay- gone forever.

the next two weeks were a blur of constant pain and complete and utter embarrassment. jay ignored you completely, avoiding you at every turn. you threw yourself into your studies, trying to distract yourself from the aching heartbreak and void inside you. your friends noticed the change, but you couldn't bring yourself to explain. how could you tell them that the person you had hated for so long had become the one you loved? and even worse, broke your heart.

you saw jay and minji together more often than you would have liked. each time, it felt like a knife twisting in your heart. but you forced yourself to smile, to act like everything was fine. it was the only way you knew how to cope.

one day, while you were sitting in the campus courtyard, lost in your thoughts, someone sat down next to you. you looked up to see taehyun, one of your friends from class. his presence was a welcome distraction from the feelings inside you.

"hey," he said, patting your shoulder giving you a warm smile. "you look like you could use some company."

you smiled back, grateful for his kindness. "yeah, i guess i could."

taehyun was easy to talk to, he was kind and understanding, and before long, you found yourself laughing and joking with him. it was a relief to feel something other than pain for the first time in the last few weeks, even if it was only for a little while. he pulled you into a hug, after you had finally opened up about your situation and you let yourself relax in his embrace, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, sniffling away your tears.

unbeknownst to you, jay was watching from a distance. he had come to the courtyard to clear his head from everything, from the confusion and the dull feeling in his heart, but the sight of you with taehyun stopped him in his tracks. the way you laughed, the way you hugged him—it should have made him happy to see you smiling again after breaking your heart. but instead, it filled him with a burning jealousy and sadness.

seeing you with taehyun brought everything into sharp focus. and it suddenly hit him- he realized that he had been a fool, pushing you away when he should have been holding you close. he couldn't deny it anymore longer—he was deeply in love with you. and he couldn't stand the thought of losing you to somebody else.

jay knew what he had to do- that evening, jay broke up with minji. it was one of the hardest things he had ever done, she was a kind and sweet girl, but he knew it was the right thing. minji deserved someone who could love her- and that wasn’t him. his heart had always belonged to you.

the next day, jay found you sitting alone in the library, studying and deep in focus. he approached anxiously and cautiously, his heart feeling like it was about to explode in his chest.

"can we talk please?" he asked, his voice quiet.

you looked up, surprise and shock flickering in your eyes before looking down again. "kinda busy- what do you want, jay?"

he took a deep breath, steeling himself. "i'm sorry. for everything, y/n. i never should have ignored you. i was in denial, i was scared and confused, but that's no excuse."

you stayed silent anxiously playing with your fingers, waiting for him to continue.

"i broke up with minji," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "because i realized something that took a while for me to realize but i’m here now- i realized that i'm in love with you."

your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest. "you… you what?”

"i'm in love with you, y/n. i’m so in love with you" he repeated, his voice breaking as his eyes shined with sincerity. "i've been in love with you for a long time, but i was too stupid to see it. and when you told me how you felt, it scared the hell out of me. i didn't know how to handle it, so i pushed you away. but i can't do that anymore."

tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, your heart aching with a mixture of hope and fear. "do you really mean it?" you whispered.

jay nodded, his gaze unwavering. "i mean it. i love you. and if you'll give me a chance, i promise i'll do everything i can to make it up to you, please y/n.”

you searched his eyes, looking for any sign of deception. but all you saw was honesty, a raw vulnerability that took your breath away.

"i don't know if i can trust you," you said quietly, your voice trembling. "you hurt me, jay. a lot."

"i know," he said, his voice breaking as he cups your cheek, leaning his forehead against yours. "and i'm so, so sorry. but i'll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you can trust me. i promise."

for a long moment, you stayed silent, the weight of his words sinking in. and then, slowly, you nodded. "okay," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "one chance, jay. but if you hurt me again, that's it. i'm done."

jay's face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy. he reached out, taking your hand in his, looking into your eyes for permission as you nodded with a soft grin.

jays lips feel soft against yours, you spent many nights wondering what it would be like to be like to kiss jay, and it’s even better than you could’ve imagined.

and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

the weeks that followed were a whirlwind of emotions. jay was true to his word, doing everything in his power to prove himself to you. he showed up at your door with your favourite coffee order every morning, walked you to your classes with your hand in his, and spent every spare moment with you. he was attentive, kind, thoughtful, and for the first time, truly present.

your friends noticed the change in him too. they saw the way he looked at you, hearts in his eyes and the way he treated you with a newfound gentleness and adoration. it was clear to everyone that park jay was a changed man, and it was all because of you.

but there were still moments of where you were in denial, times when the past hurt you felt would come back, casting a shadow over your happiness. the moment came to you on a rainy afternoon, the weather complimenting your mood as you sat together in a quiet café. the rain pattered against the windows, creating a soothing backdrop to your conversation.

jay gave you a knowing look as he reached across the table, taking your hand in his.

"i love you," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "i know i've said it before, but i need you to know how much you mean to me. you're my everything, so get those thoughts out of your head, mmh?”

he said pulling you into a soft kiss across the table.

tears welled up in your eyes at his words. it was everything you had ever wanted to hear, but the fear still lingered, a dark cloud over your heart.

"i love you too," you whispered, your voice trembling. "but i'm scared, jay. i'm scared of getting hurt again- it was so bad.” you said as you closed your eyes with a trembling voice.

jay's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes shining with determination and love. "i know," he said. "and i will spend the rest of my life proving to you that you have nothing to fear. i will never hurt you again, i promise baby.”

time passed, and true to his word, jay continued to be the man you deserved. he was patient, understanding, and never once pressured you. he was there for you in ways he had never been before, and slowly but surely, the trust and reassurance began to appear.

one warm night, as you sat together on the same playground jay had rejected you on as kids, he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"i can’t bare losing you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "you're my everything."

you looked up at him, your heart overflowing with love. "you won't," you said, your voice steady and sure. "we're in this together, you can’t get rid of me that easily."

you both threw your heads back, laughing together as the moonlight shined down on you.

and as he held you close, you knew that no matter what pain he had caused you before- you knew that your love for each other was stronger than anything else.

@FAIRQVES 2024

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tigreblvnc · 24 days ago

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MICHAEL KAISER x [f] READER

cw: fluff, comfort, romance. note: a tribute to my dear friend.

My sun is beautiful, powerful. Valiant. It shines brightly but has no sharp points. I kept the thorns on my wrist.

Michael Kaiser was a paradox in himself.

"Can I open my eyes?" You whisper, your step hesitant. "Michael?"

"Not yet."

In the darkness, his voice resonates.

"We're almost there. Just a few more steps. Patience."

Patience was a virtue you didn't know. One you learned with, and for, Michael. A rose takes time to bloom; its petals slowly gain color. One wrong sound, and the stem withers. These creatures are as delicate as they are insolent.

Under your heel, the concrete fades, giving way to the soft, frayed texture of fresh grass. Yesterday's rain still soaks the earth.

The weight pressing on your eyes lifts, freeing your sight, and the landscape unfolds into a vast lake reflecting the moonlight. At your feet: a spread-out blanket holding the basket and provisions. Your gaze sparkles with wonder, your voice swelling with joy.

"Oooooh!!! Michael! Did you prepare all this?"

He says nothing. Doing things for others is not something he likes to express.

You step forward, kneeling on the red and white cloth. The basket holds those foods seen in couple picnic photos, and the comparison amuses you.

"Right by the lake, at night. It's even prettier. Michael?"

Your shining eyes lift toward the German who hasn't moved. You can clearly see that something is bothering him.

"Hm? What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Yes, there is something."

"… It's just that I wasn't sure if you'd like it. It's the first time I've done this."

It's not your vision playing tricks—you can almost see his cheeks suddenly flushed.

"Michael? Please, come sit with me."

With a tilt of your head, you beckon him to come. Silently, the man approaches and settles at your left. He seems strangely out of place in this intimate setting, surrounded by neatly wrapped provisions. The very thought that he took such care to prepare all this warms your chest.

"Do you like it?" he asks, his voice, usually filled with pride, now resonating with the shyness of someone experiencing a first time.

"Do I like it? Of course, Michael. Can I hold you?"

Asking for his consent, even for the smallest things, had always been a rule. Like a delicate rose, his thorns, thin and sharp, rose like a tiger's claws. Always, you took care when approaching those defenses.

A nod is his answer. You move closer to wrap your arms around him. The difference in your heights is noticeable even now, when you have to draw him toward you to fully embrace him. Tonight, the fire of his arrogance is mild. It glows like a flame in its last breath. And you, your warmth radiates.

Before you, the water sparkles under the pulsing starlight. Despite the winter chill, the cold's bite doesn't reach you.

Your eyes fall on the basket. Without waiting, you pull out two sandwiches, handing the first to the German.

"Next time, I'll be the one making them for you!" you add, smiling.

"I hope they'll be at least better than mine."

Michael never cooked. However, he had put his heart into the task, and his effort could be felt even in the tenderness of the bread yielding under your bite.

"It's not the taste that matters, Michael! What counts is that you made it with love."

Love was a rare commodity among the Kaisers. Power came after long, laborious efforts but offered no guarantee of that warmth deep inside. One couldn't have love alone.

"So? How is it?"

"It's good, GOOD! Try it!"

You push the tip of your sandwich toward his mouth. He finally accepts and takes a bite.

"Hm."

"So???"

"Passable."

And since Michael Kaiser had no love, he couldn't give any either.

"Hmm! You'll see, next time I'll cook you a dish so good, you'll be smiling all the way to here!"

With the tip of your finger, you trace the outline at the corner of his lips, then a light laugh escapes you.

Your sandwiches quickly disappear into your stomachs.

"You know, I'm glad you found time for us, despite the football competitions." Your voice resonates in the silence, carving its way to the surface of the water. "I know you give it your all for that."

"It's my life. My goal."

Power.

"Yes…" Your smile fades slightly. "Your goal."

Wasn't Michael's goal to be loved?

"You're strong, Michael. I know you'll make it. I'm sure of it. I don't even need to be in football to know that."

Some have victory in their name.

"And I'll be there when that day comes." A smile, unsure if it's natural or hides something else, lifts the corners of your mouth. "Will you sign me an autograph?"

One might think they see the beginnings of a smile at the edge of his lips.

"… Tell me, Michael. What will you do once you're the world number one?"

"I'll go where no one will come bother me."

"Where?"

"Anywhere. A cave. The top of a mountain. I'll go to Saint Helena like Napoleon when he was exiled."

"Can I come?"

"You think you'll be able to put up with me until then?"

"I don't put up with you: I like being with you."

"Hm."

"And also, I want to share as much as possible with you! By the way, thank you for this meal, Michael. And for thinking of bringing us here. It's beautiful. See? It's for moments like this that I want to be with you. And there will be many more."

"Many more…"

"Yes. I want us to live the most beautiful moments together."

Your fingers have started to move closer to his.

"You're really a tick, huh? You won't let go of this, no matter what I say." He exhales through his nose with a half-smile. "Idiot."

"You're right: I'm an idiot. But I'll stay with you no matter what. Even if you go to the other side of the world."

"Aren't you afraid? That one day, I'll disappear?"

"Michael, you know, I'm afraid of a lot of things. I'm afraid of not being enough for you, I'm afraid you'll find someone else. I'm afraid I'll drive you away because I said something I shouldn't have, or because I did something you don't like. I'm always afraid of losing you, because I love you more than you can imagine."

Your chest swells with the rush of air before your voice steadies.

"… And you, Michael, you're afraid of being loved. You're afraid of being touched. Afraid of being abandoned, forgotten, and having your name erased forever. You're afraid of giving yourself completely to our relationship. I think it's your past that influences you, and also because sometimes you think it's just not worth it. But you know what? My mission is to prove you wrong. There is love waiting for you in this world, there's a place somewhere for you. I'll help you find it."

Your fingers climb up the back of his hand. With your thumb, you trace the veins that run along the crown connected to his thorns, a vine that twists all the way to the base of his shoulder.

"I… I'm becoming romantic again, sorry. But… all this is to say that I care about you. That I love you and that you're not alone. You'll never be alone again, Michael."

Movement stirs. His left hand pulls away from your caresses.

It's not to escape; on the contrary, the loop of his arms comes to encircle you in a powerful embrace. His blonde hair, burdened with an extinguished sun whose tips have been painted blue, cascades against your cheek.

The complex, masculine scent mingled with a deep, almost velvety floral undertone surrounds you.

His voice resonates with a heavy devotion.

"… Idiot who doesn't think. Who speaks without thinking. Idiot who likes being with me. Idiot I'll take to the top of the mountain with me and dig a bed for her in the island's sand. Idiot with whom there's a tomorrow."

The tender warmth of his lips spins around yours, before finally resting there to leave a mark of love.

"Whether you're here or at the other side of the world. In a time that's not mine or in a skin I don't know: I'll recognize and love my midnight sun."

#blue lock kaiser #kaiser x you #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk kaiser #kaiser x y/n #kaiser imagines #kaiser headcanons #blue lock x you #suo fanfics

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thebunnednun · 29 days ago

Text

Toast.

Pairing: Pro Hero! Katsuki Bakugou x Prohero!Ex! Reader

Years after you walked out of his life, Katsuki decides to literally open up his boxes of memories and lay them all out.

He can't stand how his mind won't let you go after all this time.

And after your most recent phone call,

He doesn't think he ever will.

Inspired by the song: Darling, I

Warning: Heavy angst, post break ups, crying Katsuki.

Wc; 4.1 K

'Fuck. I wish I never let you go.'

The room was quiet, save for the crackle of the fireplace and the soft hum of the city outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Katsuki sat cross-legged on the plush black rug, his back against the couch, nursing a half-empty glass of whiskey that he’d barely touched. The firelight danced across his face, its warmth doing nothing to thaw the cold ache in his chest.

In his lap sat an old photo album—something he hadn’t touched in years.

Katsuki told himself it was an accident, finding it while clearing out the closet, but the truth was he’d been looking for it. His fingers hovered over the edge of a photo, the corners worn from years of handling.

It was one of the two of you from your high school days. You were laughing at something Kaminari had said, and Katsuki’s hand rested protectively on your shoulder, a rare, crooked smile tugging at his lips.

“Don’t ever tell a woman you love her if you don’t mean it,”

Kirishima’s voice echoed in his head, from a long-ago conversation.

“You said you did, though. Didn’t you?”

Katsuki’s jaw tightened, his crimson eyes flickering toward the fire.

He said it.

He’d meant it.

God, he’d meant it.

But meaning it wasn’t enough, was it?

The gala came back to him in flashes. The heated argument that had escalated faster than either of you could stop it. Your voice, sharp and cutting, accusing him of shutting you out. His, louder, angrier, drowning out whatever plea you might’ve been trying to make.

And then—fire.

Not from you, but from him.

A blazing retaliation that caught the bottom of your dress and sent you flying over the edge.

“Darling, I keep falling in love.”

The lyrics from some stupid song that’s been trending lately plays unbidden in his mind, mocking him.

‘Falling in love?’

More like falling apart.

And yet,

Sitting here surrounded by the ghosts of your shared life, he wondered if he’d ever really stopped falling.

His phone buzzed on the coffee table, breaking the silence. Katsuki leaned forward, the amber liquid in his glass sloshing dangerously close to the edge. He glanced at the screen:

Mom.

“Shit,” he muttered, letting it ring out. Mitsuki Bakugo had been relentless since the holidays began, demanding that he “grow a pair” and talk to you. As if it were that simple.

As if a few words could undo years of hurt and silence.

“Forever’s too long,” he muttered to himself, echoing her favorite line when she brought you up. Yeah, it was too long. Too long to keep replaying the same memories like a goddamn broken record.

Too long to keep holding onto someone who clearly didn’t want to be held.

He drained the whiskey, setting the glass down harder than he intended. The sound echoed in the emptiness of the apartment, and Katsuki winced, running a hand through his messy blond spikes. His gaze shifted back to the photo album, to your smile, frozen in time.

Like you never left.

Katsuki swiped angrily at his face, cursing under his breath. He didn’t even notice the tears until one splashed onto the page.

How the hell had it come to this?

He had everything he’d ever wanted—the fame, the recognition, the goddamn hero ranking to prove it.

But it felt hollow.

“Oh, they wanna tie me down, that bondage just might break. I can’t sign the dotted line; just how long is forever?”

That had been his excuse back then, hadn’t it?

Fear of forever.

Failure.

The weight of tying himself to someone when his career demanded everything.

But now, sitting alone in his cold, immaculate apartment,

Katsuki couldn’t help but think he’d been an idiot.

‘Maybe letting go is a beautiful thing,’ he thought bitterly, except it wasn’t beautiful.

It fucking hurt.

And no amount of hero work or accolades could fill the space you’d taken with you.

The whiskey glass sat precariously close to the edge of the coffee table, its amber contents catching the firelight like liquid gold.

Katsuki stares at it, unfocused, his mind too far gone to care if it tips over. His breaths come unevenly, the weight in his chest pressing down harder with each passing second.

The photo album rested on his lap like a lead weight, and he flipped the page with trembling fingers. There you were again—another snapshot of a life he hadn’t realized he’d been taking for granted.

This one was from your first Hero Gala together.

You wore a sleek, shimmering gown that hugged your figure, and Katsuki stood beside you in his perfectly tailored suit, scowling at the camera while you beamed brightly enough to make up for it.

"Sweet and spicy," Mina had teased back then, snapping the photo.

"The perfect pair."

And for a while, you had been. Katsuki could almost hear your laughter in the silence of the room, could almost feel the brush of your fingertips against his arm as you whispered something to him that cold night air, something only meant for him.

His hand clenched into a fist, crumpling the edge of the page.

The memory of that night—the gala that ended it all—burned at the back of his mind like a scar that refused to fade.

Katsuki stood abruptly, the photo album sliding from his lap and landing with a soft thud on the rug. The whiskey had gone bitter in his mouth, and his chest ached with the weight of it all. He paced toward the window, dragging a hand through his hair, gripping the back of his neck as if to ground himself.

The skyline stretched out before him, the glittering city lights blinking like fireflies in the distance. It was beautiful in a way that made his heart clench.

Somewhere out there, you were living your life, and he had no right to wonder if you ever thought of him the way he thought of you—

Late at night, alone. When the silence was too loud.

“Forever,” he muttered again, his voice low and rough. Katsuki leaned his forehead against the cool glass, his breath fogging the pane as he exhaled.

“Yeah, right.”

His reflection stared back at him, hollow-eyed and tired.

Katsuki hated the man looking back, the hero who could save the world but not himself. The words he’d thrown at you during that fight echoed like gunshots, ricocheting off the walls of his mind.

“You think I can just drop everything for you?” he had snarled, the veins in his neck taut with anger.

The way your face had crumpled… he’d see it every time he closed his eyes.

The argument had started small, as these things often do.

A misplaced comment here, a sharp retort there. Katsuki didn’t even remember what had sparked it anymore, only that it had spiraled out of control faster than he could keep up.

“You think this is enough for me?” you’d snapped, your voice low but venomous, cutting through the noisy chatter of the gala like a blade.

“You think I can just sit back and be your cheerleader while you push me further and further away?”

Katsuki had bristled, his temper flaring instantly. “You think I like this shit?” he’d barked, gesturing to the opulent surroundings.

“You think I asked for people to crawl up my ass every time I breathe? I’m doing this for us!”

“For us?” you’d laughed, bitter and disbelieving. “Don’t lie to me, Katsuki. Don’t act like you love me if you don’t mean it.”

“This isn’t some fairy tale, and I’m not your fucking prince!”

His response had been immediate and instinctive, a roaring denial that had drawn the attention of nearby guests.

But the damage was already done.

You hadn’t yelled back after that. You’d just gone quiet, your lips trembling as if you were holding back words that could shatter you both.

The heat of your anger had flared in your quirk, with you catching the hem of his tuxedo jacket and sending him careening over the balcony with a forceful scream.

When he’d dragged himself back inside, soot-streaked, soaking wet from the rain, and seething—

You were gone.

The soft click of your heels behind you louder than any explosion he’d ever made.

He hadn’t chased you.

Katsuki balled his hands into fists, nails biting into his palms. That had been the biggest mistake of his life—standing there, letting you walk away.

At the time, he’d told himself it was for the best.

You deserve someone who could give you everything, not someone chained to a profession that demanded his soul.

But now, years later, all he had were awards he didn’t care about and an emptiness he couldn’t ignore anymore.

“Da-da, da, keep falling in love,” you’d once hummed softly under your breath, leaning against the kitchen counter in your tiny shared apartment. The one he picked to save up money for Izuku's suit.

You hadn’t noticed him watching you, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Back then, the sound of your voice had been enough to ground him after a long day.

He swallowed hard, the memory cutting through him like a blade. “Falling in love,” he muttered under his breath, his voice cracking.

“What a fucking joke.”

The sound of the glass tipping snapped him back to the present. Katsuki lunged forward, catching it just before it shattered on the hardwood floor. The sudden movement sent the photo album sliding down where he left it, its contents scattering across the rug.

“Fuck,” he muttered, setting the glass aside and reaching for the fallen photos. His fingers hesitated over one in particular—a candid shot of you asleep on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder.

He didn’t even know who had taken it, but it was one of his favorites.

‘Darling, I keep falling in love.’

The melody whispered through his mind again, relentless and mocking. He let out a shaky breath, his thumb brushing over your image.

“What the hell was I thinking, letting you go?”

The apartment felt colder than usual, despite the roaring fire. It wasn’t just the lack of your presence—it was the absence of life, of warmth, of anything real.

Furniture was pristine, untouched. The awards and accolades lining the shelves were polished to perfection but hollow in their meaning.

He glanced toward the closet, where a single, dusty box sat in the corner. He hadn’t opened it since you left. It was the only thing you hadn’t taken with you, and he’d never had the guts to look inside.

Katsuki pushed himself to his feet, the photo still clutched in his hand. He made his way to the closet, each step heavier than the last.

When he reached the box, he hesitated, his fingers hovering over the lid.

“Don’t be a coward,” he muttered to himself, gritting his teeth.

With a deep breath, Katsuki pulled the lid off.

The first thing he saw was your handwriting, scrawled across a folded note resting on top of the neatly packed contents. His chest tightened painfully as he unfolded it, the familiar curve of your letters hitting him like a punch to the gut.

Katsuki,

I want to explain, but I don’t know how. By the time you read this, I’ll be gone.

I don’t expect you to change for me. Maybe you hate me, and that’s okay. I just couldn’t do it anymore—not like this.

I loved you. I still do. Maybe I always will. But love isn’t enough when we’re tearing each other apart. I won't continue to stay in a toxic environment.

I love you enough to set you free.

We have so many dreams and I'm going to achieve mine.

I hope you find what you’re looking for. I hope you find happiness, even if it’s not with me.

Keep being a hero I can be proud of.

Forever Your Love and Lady

~Your (maybe) Future Wife

Katsuki gently laid the note from his fist on the coffee table, his vision blurring with unshed tears. His breathing hitched as he sank to his knees, the box forgotten at his side.

Fuck everything right now.

He couldn't have worse timing.

The fire crackled behind him, casting long, flickering shadows across the room. But all Katsuki could see was your face, all he could hear was your voice, and all he could feel was the crushing weight of what could have been.

“Forever’s too long,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

“But it wasn’t long enough with you.”

The photo album lay open on the rug, the pages flipping lazily in the breeze from the cracked window. Katsuki’s gaze drifted to it, the flicker of nostalgia pulling at him like a riptide. He stalked back toward the couch and dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as he reached for the album.

The next page revealed another photo, this one candid. You were sitting cross-legged on the grass during a rare picnic, your face half-hidden behind a slice of watermelon, grinning like an idiot.

Next to you, Kirishima was doubled over laughing, and Mina was holding up a peace sign behind your head. Katsuki stood in the background, arms crossed, pretending not to care.

But the way his eyes lingered on you in the photo said everything he never could.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his throat tight.

Katsuki swiped at his eyes again, the tears coming faster now.

He’d spent so much of his life running—running from vulnerability, from the risk of loss, from the terrifying truth that he needed you. But in the end, it didn’t matter how fast he ran. The pain still found him, clinging to his every step like a relentless shadow.

The box, still open beside him, was a time capsule of your shared history. Beneath the note lay a tangled mess of memories: an old hoodie you’d stolen from him, still faintly smelling of caramel and strawberries; a Polaroid of the two of you on your first trip to the beach, his face begrudgingly half-smiling as you threw your arms around him, your old cheerleader uniform, tickets from movie dates, a few notebooks from UA, some bracelets he'd made you; and a small, lopsided clay sculpture of a cat you’d made during some ridiculous pottery class Mina had dragged you both to.

Katsuki picked up the sculpture with care, his thumb running over its uneven surface.

He’d laughed at it back then, calling it ugly as hell, but you’d just grinned and told him it was supposed to be that way—it gave it “character.”

Now, it felt like the most precious thing in the world, its imperfections a mirror to his own.

“Why’d you leave this?” he whispered to the empty room, his voice thick with emotion.

“Why’d you leave me?”

Katsuki knew why you fucking left him.

The answer was written plainly in your letter, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept. He’d been too blind, too stubborn to see what you’d needed from him, and by the time he’d realized, it was too late.

He’d pushed you away with his anger, his pride, his refusal to admit that he was terrified of losing you.

And in doing so, he’d ensured exactly that.

Katsuki set the sculpture down with trembling hands, his head falling into his palms as a choked sob escaped him. The world had always painted him as unbreakable, a hero who could withstand anything.

But here, in the solitude of his apartment, surrounded by the remnants of your love, he was just a man

—flawed, broken,

and utterly lost without you.

The melody from the song drifted through his mind again, relentless and cruel,

“Darling, I keep falling in love...”

With a growl, he shoved the box aside and stood, pacing the room like a caged animal. The ache in his chest was unbearable, a gaping wound that no amount of hero work could heal.

He wanted to scream, to punch something, to burn the entire world down if it meant he could feel anything other than this crushing emptiness.

But what would that solve?

What would any of it solve?

His gaze landed on his phone, still resting on the coffee table where he’d left it. Mitsuki’s missed call stared back at him like a challenge, and for once, he didn’t ignore it. With a deep, shuddering breath, Katsuki snatched it up and scrolled through his contacts, his thumb hovering over your name.

He hadn’t deleted it. He couldn’t.

Even after all this time, the thought of erasing you from his life completely was too much to bear.

But now, as his finger hovered over the call button, he hesitated.

What the hell would he even say?

That he was sorry? That he was a coward?

How he still loves you, despite everything?

Instead, Katsuki stared at the screen, his jaw tight and his heart pounding in his chest.

The words won’t come. They never do.

His thumb moved as if on its own, clicking on your contact and opening the text thread. The last message was from you, years ago—a simple,

“Take care of yourself, Katsuki.”

He clenched his teeth, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

He could do this.

He had to do this.

“I miss you.”

The words stared back at him, stark and vulnerable on the screen. He hesitated for a long moment before deleting them. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Instead, he typed something else—something raw, something real.

“I was an idiot. I should’ve fought for you. I should’ve fought with you. I’m sorry.”

He hit send before he could second-guess himself, the message disappearing into the void. The phone slipped from his hand, landing softly on the couch as he sank down beside it. His head fell back against the cushions, his eyes closing as exhaustion overtook him.

For the first time in years, Katsuki allowed himself to hope.

Maybe, somehow, it wasn’t too late.

His phone buzzed again, breaking his spiraling thoughts. This time, it wasn’t his mom.

It was you.

Katsuki froze, his breath catching in his throat. The screen lit up with your name, your contact photo still the same one he’d set years ago—a close-up of your face, mid-scream, after he’d shoved a snowball down the back of your jacket. His thumb hovered over the screen, his pulse pounding in his ears.

What the hell did you want?

His mind raced with possibilities, each one more ridiculous than the last. Maybe you were drunk and scrolling through old contacts.

Maybe it was some bad news.

Maybe you'd dropped your phone in a fight and he was your emergency contact.

Maybe you’d accidentally called him instead of someone else.

Maybe this was some cruel joke on your behalf.

Or maybe—just maybe—you missed him as much as he missed you.

The phone buzzed again, and he cursed under his breath. He let it ring twice more before finally swiping to answer.

“Yeah?” His voice came out gruff, harsher than he intended.

There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment, he thought you’d hung up. But then your voice came through, soft and tentative.

“Katsuki…?”

His name on your lips hit him like a punch to the gut. He clenched his jaw, his free hand gripping the edge of the couch for support.

“What do you want?” he asked, his tone defensive, like armor against the hope creeping into his chest.

You hesitated, and he could picture you biting your lip, the way you always did when you were nervous.

“I—I need your help.”

The words hung in the air, fragile and uncertain. Katsuki’s heart stuttered, his mind racing. He didn’t know what you needed, but in that moment, he realized something.

No matter how much time had passed, no matter how deep the hurt ran, he’d never stopped wanting to be the one you called when everything fell apart.

It struck him in a place he’d buried long ago, his chest tightening as memories surged forward unbidden. For a second, the world around him faded.

“Yeah?” he rasped, his voice quieter than he intended, almost reverent.

“I—” You inhaled sharply, the sound shaky as if you were fighting for air. “It’s my grandma’s will. Someone in the family is contesting it, and I—” Your voice broke, and his grip on his phone tightened.

“I thought I had it with me, but I dodn’t. It’s—it’s somewhere in a box back there, and I just—I can’t lose her home. Everything is in there, Katsuki. Everything.”

Your words tumbled out in a rush, frantic and laden with grief. Katsuki could hear it: the weight of losing her, of memories slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

It made his chest ache, twisting with emotions he hadn’t faced in years.

“You sure it’s here?” he asked, already scanning the room, his mind piecing together where it might be.

“I—I think so,” you stammered. “I was so sure when I packed, but now… Oh, God, I can’t breathe—”

“Hey,” he cut in sharply, his tone grounding. “Breathe. You hear me? Slow and steady, like this.” He exaggerated his breathing into the phone, his breaths loud and deliberate, as if sheer force could drag you out of your spiral. He could hear you on the other end, trying to mimic him, your breaths still jagged but slowing.

Katsuki’s own chest loosened ever so slightly.

“Good,” he said softly. “Now, don’t move. I’m lookin’.”

The room was a mess, strewn with boxes he hadn’t touched in months, maybe years. His hands worked on autopilot, pulling open lids, rifling through layers of forgotten treasures.

Old photos, mismatched socks, gear from training sessions—it was all a blur as he focused on your voice in the background.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice quieter now but no less fraught. He heard you talking to someone——and his ears perked the fuck up.

“Yeah, just heat it up. I’ll be out in a second.”

His jaw clenched at the sound of your voice addressing someone else, but he shoved the feeling aside, muttering a string of curses as he knocked over a box. “Damn it.”

“What?” you asked, alarmed.

“Not you,” he grunted, running a hand through his hair and glancing at the piles around him. His palms were clammy, and he scrubbed at them on his pants. “Just...I’m fine.”

Your soft laugh at his flustered tone sent a jolt through him. He grumbled under his breath, trying to ignore the way it made his pulse quicken.

Then, it hit him.

“Wait,” he muttered, turning toward the kitchen.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he snapped, making his way to the freezer. He yanked it open, the cold air blasting his face as he dug past forgotten food containers and ice packs. “Where the hell—”

“Katsuki?”

“Not talkin’ to you!” he barked, banging his head against the freezer’s edge.

“Shit!”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he growled, biting back a string of curses. His fingers burned from the cold as he shoved aside another frosted-over bag. Then, his hand hit something solid and unmistakable.

He pulled it out, a plastic binder covered in condensation, his breath catching in relief. “Got it.”

“What?”

“The will,” he said, holding it up as if you could see through the phone. His lips twitched into the smallest, most fleeting of smiles. “Guess you still hide stuff in the freezer, huh?”

A soft laugh came from your end, tinged with disbelief.

“You found it?!”

“Yeah,” he said gruffly, gripping the binder tighter.

“Told ya. You can count on me.”

For a moment, silence stretched between you, filled with things neither of you could quite say. His chest felt too tight, his palms sweating again despite the chill.

'How do you manage to own me after all this time?'

“Thank you,”

You whispered, your voice softer now, warmer. It was the first time in years he’d heard you sound like this—like you trusted him.

And damn if it didn’t feel like coming home.

“Can we meet?” you asked, your voice hesitant but steadying. “At the ramen spot near the convenience store? You know, the one we used to go to…”

The memory of that little shop flickered to life in Katsuki’s mind. The mismatched chairs, the warm glow of the neon sign, the way you’d always insist on extra toppings while he rolled his eyes and covered the bill anyway.

But the image was quickly replaced by another—a blur of voices, the usual get-together Ochako and Mina loved organizing.

Everyone would crowd into the tiny space, including Shinsou, Aizawa, and even Eri perched on her dad’s side.

He grimaced. “Tch, I dunno if that’s a good—”

The sound of a crash on your end cut him off.

“Shit!” you gasped, your voice sharp with worry. Katsuki’s heart leapt into his throat.

“What the hell was that?” he barked, gripping the phone tighter.

There was no response, just the sound of you dropping the phone and running. He could hear muffled voices, your hurried footsteps, and the faint murmur of concern as you called out,

“Are you okay?”

For a moment, his stomach twisted.

What if you weren’t safe? What if—

But then he heard it.

You were laughing.

It started soft, a chuckle slipping through the static, but it grew, spilling out in full-bodied peals that echoed through the line. Katsuki froze, his pulse roaring in his ears.

Your laugh.

It hit him like a freight train, vivid memories rushing in all at once. Your face, lit up with joy. The way your eyes sparkled when you teased him. The warmth of your skin brushing against his arm, unintentional but electric.

The sound of your laughter—it was a melody he hadn’t realized he’d been desperate to hear again.

It felt like someone struck him with a tuning fork, the vibrations resonating deep in his chest. For a moment, Katsuki forgot how to breathe.

“Sorry about that,” you said, still catching your breath. “My neighbor’s kid tripped over her homework and knocked over a chair. They’re fine, don’t worry.”

He tried to focus on your words, but his mind was swimming, his grip on the phone clammy.

“You still there, Katsuki?”

Even the way you said his name was so—

“Yeah,” he managed, his voice rough. He cleared his throat, hoping you didn’t notice.

“I'm still here.”

“Good,” you said softly, and he could almost hear the smile in your voice.

“So… ramen? Tomorrow?”

He swallowed hard, the warmth of your laughter still lingering in his chest.

Katsuki closes his eyes, and for a moment, he can feel your warmth as you wrap your arms around him, your soft lips by his ear, legs around his waist, and the beat of your heart matching that of his own.

“I’ll be there.”

Part 2 is up now

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @raendarkfaerie, @bunny-b34r, (I haven't posted in a while so please munch on this.)

Lemme know if you wanna be added to the list!

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have some more Katsuki (and mother mha) here in the master list. I also have a Pro Hero! Bakugou x Sugar Baby fic.

Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

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See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

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acciofictionalmen · 1 month ago

Text

fallout in the snowfall ❆ part 2

james potter x female!reader

summary: when james kisses you on an adrenaline high, your friendship is in shambles as the true meaning of "just friends" becomes irreparably warped. you both desperately try to restore the platonic bond that you once shared, but at what cost...

warnings: strong language, sexual references

word count: 3.6k

series masterlist

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

That night you found yourself stood outside James’ dormitory.

With a sharp knock on the door, you waited for someone to respond. It was beyond curfew, the common room silent as you shuffled uncomfortably in the darkness. Eventually you heard movement on the other side of the door and it cracked open.

“Pete?” You exclaimed in surprise; he was usually asleep by now.

“Oh, hi (Y/n).” He twittered, turning to look behind him. You heard the chatter in the room pause at the mention of your name.

“I’ve got James’ charms essay here.” You said softly, conscious of waking the other dormitories up.

“One sec.” Pete turned to shut the door, and his mouse-brown hair bobbed out of sight. The door re-opened to jet black hair.

James quietly shut the door behind him, leaving you both alone in the corridor. You swallowed nervously, he looked good; wearing only a pair of crimson, low-hanging, plaid pyjama bottoms. He noticed your eyes on his bare chest, and smirked.

Rolling your eyes, you handed him his essay, “Here.”

James took the paper as you calmly continued, “Your main points are good, but you don’t spend enough time articulating them, y’know? Like in your first paragraph you state the importance of the Fidelius Charm but then don’t elaborate. And if you want to get full marks you need to-”

“(Y/n).”

You paused at the firmness of his voice.

“What?” You crossed your arms as your confidence began to ebb away the closer he got.

“I could care less about Charms.”

He caressed the side of your face with his thumb as you froze, your breath hitching as he looked down at you. Tall shadows stretched across his face, slithers of moonlight the only thing defining his features, “I wanted to see you.” He breathed, his lips lowering to your neck, “Can’t I see my best girl?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you sunk into his embrace, his hands tightening around your waist to keep you steady.

James’ essay drifted to the floor, forgotten.

His lips travelled up your chin, nearing the corners of your lips when you stopped him, channelling your resolve.

“Not like this.”

James instantly stopped and pulled away, his hands still loosely on your waist, “What?” He murmured, still entranced by you.

You pointedly removed his hands from your waist, and stooped to pick up his essay.

“I came because I thought you wanted to improve your Charms grade, because I’m a good friend,” you pushed the paper into his chest, finality in your voice, “I’m going to bed.”

James’ brows lowered in confusion as he stepped away, “Have I-” he stopped himself, “Right. Goodnight then.”

──── ୨୧ ────

Since that encounter by his dorm, you kept your distance. Had skilfully evaded moments alone with James like the slyness of a golden snitch eluding its seeker. Partially to make a point, but also because you didn’t trust your self-control anymore.

The initial few days of your withdrawal had been spent waiting. Waiting for any effort, for him to try or even just ask why you’d suddenly pulled away. Or for him to find you and express some sort of dissatisfaction with the way your ‘friendship’ had been left, that dissatisfaction you felt, and tell you he wanted more.

When it became clear that wouldn’t happen, you continued to joke with each other in the group. However, the underlying tension was so prominent that your conversations began to lessen- your mind constantly elsewhere and his, a mess.

It didn’t take you long to realise the growing feelings you had weren’t reciprocated, and to shove them deep, deep down.

You wondered whether you’d made the right decision- you’d stopped kissing James with the hope that he’d realise he wanted you as more than just a friend. At the least, that your friendship would return to the way it had been. You hadn’t expected- hadn’t even considered that it may be irreparable: that that friendship was long gone.

Embarrassment frequently bullied your thoughts as you wondered whether your friendship had any worth to James when he wasn’t tasting you.

The others had noticed the change too, but no one dared comment yet.

To your dismay, the rest of the year had also noticed. People would look at you uncertainly whenever they mentioned James in front of you, as though you’d broken up. As the days trickled past and your conversations dwindled, it began to feel that way.

One of the first people to observe this had been Gideon Prewett. He approached you one afternoon as you trailed out of DADA, his easy pace matching your own.

You felt his eyes on you before he spoke, a teasing lilt to his voice, “Rough breakup?”

You weren’t amused, blinking as you registered him properly. He was bluntly attractive- high cheekbones dotted with freckles and full, pink lips. You could count on one hand the number of times you and Gideon Prewett had interacted since the start of Hogwarts- despite being in the same house. This only increased your irritation.

Your response was bland, “We weren’t dating.”

His voice was deep as he chuckled, “I gave Potter too much credit, then. I thought he was good at knowing when something precious was in front him.”

You caught the clear Quidditch reference, and the even more obvious flattery. You definitely didn’t mind it.

“Careful,” your lips quirked to the side in amusement, “or I’ll tell your Captain you’re slagging him off.”

He smirked. “(Y/n), right? I’m Gideon.”

You laughed softly. “I know who you are, Prewett.”

He grinned, responding with equal wit, and you allowed yourself to settle into the fun exchange. He walked you to your next lesson, despite his being on the opposite end of the castle.

James had been leaving Potions when he spied you with Gideon. His satchel slung across his shoulder, hand failing to smooth his unkempt hair. Your laughter had reached him before you had. He almost smiled at the warm sound and the fond memories that accompanied it.

Until his eyes caught up.

His gaze collided with yours, the impact rendering him speechless. The world seemed to slow as you crossed paths, his eyes catching on your face and relaxed mannerisms, snagging on the laughter still etched into your expression. He noticed the faint blush that kissed your cheeks, the brightness of your eyes. It can’t have been longer than a second, but it was enough time for James’ gaze to flicker between you and Gideon. Enough time to recall a time when it had been him effortlessly bantering with you, making you laugh at his well-timed jokes.

You realised it at the same time, but too late, your back already to him as the space between you grew.

You turned back to Gideon, your mind in disarray. Seeing James walk past had forced the realisation that it wasn’t him beside you, making you laugh until tears danced in your eyes.

Suddenly feeling light-headed, you tugged at the red and gold scarf wound tightly around your neck. It loosened, but you still struggled to breathe.

──── ୨୧ ────

Honey-soaked waffles were stacked on your plate, glistening with sugar as you dug in eagerly and took occasional sips of coffee to counter the sweetness. The hall was filled with lively chatter as people anticipated the nearing holiday- whether it would snow, if Peeves was particularly active and planning gift-exchanges between friend groups for those leaving over Christmas break.

You sat with your usual group as James harassed Lily for the answers to the Charms homework- a common exchange. Flitwick was expecting it that evening despite James protesting that he had Quidditch practice in the afternoon; he had already been granted two extended deadlines. You wondered if James had even done any more work on his essay since you’d returned it to him that one night.

Remus paused, his eyes meeting yours with a familiar look, the same one he had when he was about to answer a question correctly in class, “James, why don’t you do the homework with (Y/n) in the library today? She’s really good at Charms.”

James’ eyes flickered to yours as he hesitated. You knew what he was thinking, because you were thinking it too- the two of you hadn’t been alone together for almost a week. There had always been someone present to change the conversation if things became strained, to act as a buffer to the overwhelming tension.

His hesitation stabbed you in the gut, but then he abruptly looked up, confidence restored in his eyes, “After lunch?” He suggested.

A faint smile settled on your lips, but before you had the chance to respond, a warm hand rested on your shoulder. You looked up, offering Gideon a smile as he nodded to the rest of your friend group.

“Hey.” He grinned as he removed his hand from your shoulder to push back his red hair.

“Hi.”

The whole of your group had stopped talking to observe the interaction, and there was an awkward pause. Mary quickly resumed talking and you made sure to remember to thank her later.

“I was wondering if you wanted to stop by and watch my Quidditch practice later?” He gestured towards the tall windows, “Weather looks promising.”

You paused, hyper aware that James was listening intently, but also that you needed to respond, “Sure. As long as it’s not an excuse to show off.” You gave him a look of feigned suspicion.

Gideon raised his hands in mock defence, “You’ve caught me.”

James’ eyes narrowed as he registered the easiness of the exchange.

“I’ll be there.”

And you had meant it. Gideon was funny, kind… undeniably good-looking. You’d been talking for a few days now and you enjoyed his company- he was easy-going and straightforward. A welcome contrast to your recent friendship dynamics.

He nodded, satisfied, eyes skimming over James before he turned away and joined his brother further down the table.

You turned back to your friends, feeling uneasy that they’d overheard everything. One person specifically.

James’ face was imperceptible as he turned to Sirius, punching his friend on the shoulder when he said something stupid. James’ face had always been easy to read- his passion making it hard for him to conceal his feelings.

You had always loved that about him- the genuineness of his emotions that you could almost always tell what he was feeling in the moment by looking at him. The look he was giving you. Of exasperation, of longing, of want… James grunted with the force of his lips colliding with yours. His hands flew to your waist as you met in a flurry of passion and l-st and want as one of his hands snaked up your side and- you blinked hard, shoving away the memory that burned before your eyes.

This was unfamiliar ground, and you didn’t like it. You noted his reaction, turning instead to your girls who were eager to know since when you and Gideon Prewett were friends.

James’ odd behaviour still hadn’t changed as you both sat down hours later on plush armchairs in the library. Multiple scrolls were piled on the rickety table before you.

The armchairs were placed opposite each other, a healthy distance between them, yet you still felt stifled by the proximity. Mostly by the emotions that accompanied it.

Setting your bag down on the table, you pulled out your work, James mirroring your actions.

Once you’d both settled, you reached over to read his essay, which you were pretty sure was unchanged since you’d seen it last.

Your fingers brushed his own as he released the parchment. A few weeks ago, his hand would’ve lingered on yours, his thumb tracing circles into your palm. This time you retracted your hand quickly, as though his touch was searing.

If James noticed this, he didn’t react, opting instead to lean back casually as you read over his homework.

To your surprise, James’ essay had changed. He’d implemented all of the improvements you’d suggested last time, and you read through the work quickly, conscious of his unwavering stare.

“This is really good.” You murmured, unable to conceal the surprise in your voice.

James looked as though he was going to say something, probably why you sounded so surprised and that of course it was good, but just said, “Yeah, thanks.”

But then his eyes met yours, studying you carefully as he leant back in his armchair, the picture of nonchalance. He ran a hand through his hair.

“So you’re going to the Quidditch match then?”

Your cheeks warmed as you slowly sat up, “Yes.”

James looked at you, warily, as he spoke, “Practices have been boring lately, probably isn’t worth coming.”

“I want to.”

A muscle feathered in his jaw, your answer not the one he’d wanted. Thankfully, he didn’t pursue it further. He nodded, the movement stiff, as he pulled out some overdue homework to complete.

Realising the brief conversation was over, you pulled a book from your bag and tucked your feet under your thighs, reading intently. A few times the sound of James’ quill scratching on parchment would stop and he’d look over to you, as though he wanted to speak. He didn’t.

A little while later James packed up his work and explained that he needed to get ready for practice.

You couldn’t quell your disappointment. Was this going to be the next few weeks? Strained meet-ups as you chased the memory of a friendship that had once thrived so beautifully on its own? It already felt pointless.

You nodded in understanding. Just as he turned to leave, you added, “No broken bones.”

He turned to face you, the ghost of a smirk gracing his lips as he echoed, “No broken bones.”

He left you perched on the chair, unable to turn the next page of your book as you bunched your hair in your right hand in exasperation. You slowly packed away too, realising you should dress warmly for the match.

Gideon had been right, the weather was beautiful- rays of sunlight illuminated the library as you prepared to leave, beams of light dancing across your face and momentarily blinding you. But the unmistakeable chill that always accompanied the winter months was ever-present, and your hour-long study session with James had left you cold enough.

──── ୨୧ ────

Chatting loudly, you, Mary and Lily left the castle bundled in colourful scarfs, woolly hats tugged over your ears and plush coats. All three of you set off for the Quidditch pitch, laughing as the wind whipped your hair and the frost crunched beneath your shoes. By the time you’d reached your seats at the top of the stadium, your teeth chattered so violently that your friends began to look worried.

“Here, (Y/n).” Lily leant over Mary and tapped her wand against your gloved hands, a blast of warmth surging out and enveloping them. You smiled gratefully and turned to face the pitch.

Small figures in red and gold stood far below. You were able to distinguish James, the team’s captain, stood further away from the others as he split them into two groups. A little to his right: Sirius and Marlene. You leant a little further forward, spying Gideon stood with the rest as he slipped a helmet on and mounted his broom.

Before you could point Marlene out to your friends and wave, the players abruptly entered the skies, the Quaffle, two Bludgers, and finally the Snitch released by James shortly afterwards, who then shot up to join the rest.

Ever since you were little, you’d been a massive Quidditch fan- had spent hours reading about the sport and attending live matches. You had a professional’s knowledge, just not their skill. You recalled the last time you’d played Quidditch in James’ massive garden and had flown into a tree, knocking him off his broom when he’d tried to retrieve you.

You huddled with the girls as you whooped and cheered for your friends, the practice a flash of scored goals and quick dives, near-misses and relentless Bludgers.

You caught Gideon’s eyes a few times during the match, and each time he’d flash you a lazy smile before James would snap at him to focus.

Soon there were only ten minutes left, and the match reached a new level of intensity as the Gryffindors used their final spurt of energy to score a few more goals. Suddenly, Mary nudged you in the shoulder as you noticed one of the players zooming towards you. More specifically, Gideon. He landed smoothly, his skill evident by the way he dismounted his broom. You stood up, unsure what was going on as you neared him, wanting to ask why he’d stopped and if he was okay.

Gideon’s chest heaved from the physical exertion as he slowly took off his helmet, streaks of red flopping over his eyes.

“Are you alright?” You asked, concern lacing your voice as you wondered whether he’d pulled a muscle.

“Fine.” Gideon smiled down at you.

You returned the smile. “You sure? Just fine?” You asked, unable to help the blush that formed on your cheeks.

He didn’t immediately respond, lifting your chin with his left hand before pressing a firm kiss to your cheek. Taken by surprise you simply stood there; eyes wide as he pulled away.

“Just fine.’ He murmured, his hot breath fanning over your face.

“I-“ you began, unsure what to say.

“Practice is basically over. I’ll walk you back to the castle.” He grinned, offering you his arm.

You nodded, though it wasn’t quite a question, and slowly took his arm. You threw a look over your shoulder, your friends looking as surprised as you felt. You turned back to Gideon and headed down the stands as he explained the basics of the match to you.

You hadn’t noticed James’ scrutiny of your interaction, his hard stare; nor the way he’d been so distracted that he’d flown right into a Bludger and fallen to the ground. The fall hadn’t been lethal- only a few metres or so. But as James sat there, his friends rushing to make sure he was okay, he ignored the searing pain in his arm and the way his muscles felt as though they were on fire. The flames were concentrated in his eyes instead.

By the time he was back in his dorm, his anger had dulled. James sat on his bed, deep in thought as his friends bustled around him, all except Peter awake.

“Oi Remus,” Sirius poked his head out of the connecting bathroom, “Chuck the hairbrush over, will you?”

Remus, who had been sat cross-legged on his bed immersed in a book, groaned, reaching for Sirius’ bedside table. He attempted to throw it to Sirius who had his hands open and ready, but the hairbrush fell short, landing instead at the foot of James’ bed.

They turned to look at him expectantly. James quickly snapped out of his thoughts and threw the brush to Sirius, who caught it smoothly. But Sirius didn’t vanish back into the bathroom, lingering by the doorway as he exchanged a brief look with Remus.

“What was that today? With (Y/n) and Prewett?” Sirius asked, casually tossing the brush up and down in his hand.

James traced the movement with his eyes, his jaw tensing, “He’s arrogant. Lacked focus on the match. I can’t have him like that during games.”

“What are you going to do? Ban (Y/n) from coming to matches? Gideon wasn’t the only one distracted by her.” Sirius remarked slyly, ignoring the glare James gave him.

Remus sighed, shutting his book once he realised he wasn’t going to finish it, “Why don’t you just talk to her?”

James leant against his headboard, massaging his temples, “I tried, mate. At the library. Things aren’t the same anymore.” He rubbed his face in frustration.

Remus sighed, “Do you want things to be how they were before? With her?”

“Before what?”

“Before you started snogging.” Sirius interjected, unhelpfully.

James cringed, “Shut up.”

Sirius snorted, “We all had to witness it, mate. Don’t know how you messed that one up.”

Remus shot Sirius a silencing look, before facing James once more, “What I’m asking is, do you miss your old friendship dynamic? Back when you two were inseparable?”

“I miss being with her.”

“Then talk to her. Properly.”

“Yeah.” James slid from his bed, signalling the conversation was over, and sat by the adjacent window.

He took off his glasses, folded them up and chucked them onto the bed. The cold of the windowsill seeped into his skin, but he didn’t care, continuing to stare at the green and grey blurs beyond. He wondered what was going on between you and his teammate, the fresh memory of Gideon kissing your cheek still haunting his mind. He pressed his forehead against the freezing glass, hoping the cold would douse the fire that lapped at his thoughts.

He thought deeply about your friendship. What it had entailed. The way the two of you had been inseparable for so many years, constantly joking and laughing together. The party had changed that, but he wondered whether things had started to change before. Not solely your friendship, but how he saw you.

James cursed himself for that kiss- when he had been drunk on success and behaving impulsively. Yet at the same time, he couldn’t condemn the action itself. Nor the weeks that had followed. Kissing you felt…

James narrowed his eyes in concentration, backing away from the window as white blobs settled on the thick glass. He held his breath as dozens more appeared, quickly snatching his glasses of the bed and shoving them back on.

Snow.

A/N

thank you for reading lovelies! as always, i love reading your thoughts/reactions/emotions, so feel free to comment :)) also, thank you so so much for the love on the first part, i appreciate you all

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