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tteokdoroki · 9 months ago

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HIGH HEELS - ryomen sukuna.

౨ৎ — about. “sukuna knows those heels, he’s pulled them off of you a million times before during a haze of lustful kisses and sly touches. he has no idea why the sight of them turns him on so much.” as rough and rugged as he may seem, ryomen sukuna lives to see his girl happy. he loves to see her smile. he loves to know she feels as good as she looks…but when you end up looking a little too good in a certain pair of heels, he can’t be blamed for making you late for a dreaded dinner... ( 6.2K )

౨ৎ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, pwp — video banner. modern!au, rich girl!au, forbidden romance, reader has sisters, degradation, praise, pain play, fingering (f!receiving), exhibitionism, slight!daddy kink, hold the moan, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), masturbation (m!receiving), cum play, creampies, modern bf!sukuna, rich girl fem!reader.

౨ৎ — things to note. haii everyone ! it’s been a while since i posted a longer fic so im excited. this was supposed to be a thirst lol. i’m just testing the waters with my version of modern bf!sukuna ! many thanks to @yennified for the ask that inspired it all. i’d like to thank everyone for their patience ‘n i hope you enjoy mwah mwah <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

“we’re going to be late, hot stuff.”

“no we’re not, ryo. give me five minutes! i just need to —“

if there’s one thing ryomen ‘sukuna’ itadori had learned from dating you, is that time management was never and never will be your strong suit.

if the phrase fashionably late could be embodied as a person, sukuna believes that it would definitely take the shape of you. you and your beautiful brown eyes that plead with him to give you a moment not even five minutes before you leave the house for dinner reservations. you and your sinful curves only accentuated the silk slip dresses you spend so long steaming before sukuna takes you out for the night. you and your perfect lips that have to be painted with the right gloss or lipstick to match your nails, purse and heels.

all of you, and your beauty, make up the meat and bones of the phrase ‘fashionably late.’

just like right now, where you sit reapplying your hot chocolate lip gloss, perched on the edge of the luxurious king sized bed you’d demanded be in your hotel room. a room booked by your father for a family-oriented get-away. sukuna hadn’t wanted to come, as a man from humble beginnings, using your daddy’s money wasn’t something that he favoured — but the man liked to see his girl happy. sukuna lives to make you happy, even if he won’t admit it.

“do ya really need five minutes to fix your lip gloss?” the pink haired man chides, sweeping a hand through his rosette locks in the mirror as he re-enters your bedroom. “i’ve seen you do it in less, gorgeous,” blood red eyes are quick to place you in the centre of the room — they never stray from you for too long, sukuna will always find you in a room no matter how busy or bare it is. your presence fills him with love and brings him comfort, even if he refuses to accept that as his truth.

there’s a coldness to the look you give him over your compact mirror while you rub the swell of your lips together, spreading the pigment across them easily. it’s a warning not to rush you, a warning to your boyfriend who knows better. “i said, i need my five minutes.”

ryomen drops the topic with a shrug, fixing his silky tie at the collar of his dress shirt — the one you’d so carefully picked because it matches the deep tone of his eyes and the colour of your slip dress. a mark of possession on your part. once he’s done, he takes to packing your designer clutch with all of your essentials from the dresser — blotting powder, your purse, any silver jewellery you’ll want to put on in the car. he slips on a couple of expensive rings to match with you too.

sukuna is more prepared for this dinner with your insufferable relatives than you are. he knows that tonight will be about your little sister and the rich lord she’s bagged as her boyfriend along with how soon they’ll be getting married. or it’ll focus on your older sister and her marriage that she’s trying so hard to keep together, despite it clearly falling apart. both of your siblings seem to think that they’re above you and your brooding, misunderstood boyfriend.

but you don’t believe that.

and you like to rub your love for one another in their bitter faces.

“pretty girl,” sukuna purrs, his chest rumbling with affection once he takes note of your heels discarded to the side. their silver sparkles glint under the warm embrace of the lighting up above. sukuna knows those heels, he’s pulled them off of you a million times before during a haze of lustful kisses and sly touches. they’re expensive too — he has no idea why the sight of them turns him on so much. “if you don’t hurry up, we won’t be able to brag to your bitchy sisters about how in love we are.”

by no means is sukuna a man of weak resolve. his will is as strong as his exterior — coated in the scars of his rough past like the thick black tattoos that ink his arms. he remains strong in every scenario except for ones that concern you, one look from you and you’ve got that mountain of a man crumbling like an avalanche and falling to his knees. you cast your boyfriend an amused gaze, smacking your lips as you watch him sink to his knees before your very eyes.

once again, your man takes the hint — thick fingers reaching for your glittery red bottom heels on the floor before he brings them up to the soles of your feet without a word. “you know how much i love the sound of that, ryo,” comes your dark hum, the colour of your eyes dimming with a desire ryomen sukuna knows all too well. “but i don’t see an issue with looking good while i do it.”

“you’re right,” sukuna quips in a husky tone, taking one foot and slipping one of your expensive shoes onto it. “who cares if we’re late to meet your sisters. as long as you feel as good as you look — i couldn’t give a fuck.” his thick fingers that know the twitches and ticks of your body oh-so-well reach for the straps of your heels and slowly begin weaving them around your ankle, upwards.

his blood red eyes remain hooked on your exposed thighs and supple skin, littered with a beautiful array of marks and scars from over your years of existence. some from before you even knew of ryomen, others from during your time together. “do you think i look good, baby?” you ask him innocently, leaning back on the bed with the palms of your hands lost in the whipped peaks of expensive cotton sheets — most exclusively found in this five star hotel.

sukuna grins in that slow and sexy way which makes your stomach lurch with lust, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. “fuckin’ gorgeous, they’ll be shakin with rage.” he says, praise melting on the tip of his tongue. his words, in a symphony syllables, are accompanied by an undercover tune of desire — sukuna is a hungry man with little patience and a big appetite. once he’s settled on something, he’s damn sure to get it.

tonight; his prey is you.

the hulking man with the contrastingly soft pink hair bends at the neck to press a chaste kiss to your knee cap, smoothing the rough surface of his palms and workman’s hands over your doughy thighs — massaging you, easing any knots and tension beneath the top layer of your warm skin. his lips, only slightly chapped, curl upwards with a knowing smile when you let out a pleased chirp. sukuna’s hands work wonders on your body — causing your mind to drift away from the family dinner that awaits you.

tonight; you could very well fall victim to the claws and fangs ryomen sukuna possesses.

kisses quickly become open mouthed and wet, hot and slippery over your flesh — and soon, sukuna adds teeth to the mix once he reaches your inner thighs, littering the area with deep shades of purple and midnight blue. he had no intentions of ravaging you like this, at least not so soon, but with a woman this irritable and fiery and troublesome on his arm how could he not? they say that you attract what you put out and the mirthy look in your eye, hidden between beautiful brown flecks of innocence, tells sukuna that you’re exactly what his guarded soul has been looking for all of his life.

his pulse quickens beneath the calcium cage of his chest — heart beat rising as you allow his curious lips and pink fluffy hair begin to disappear under the silky fabric of your figure-hugging dress. sukuna can practically taste you, the air underneath your skirt is dewy and warm and your flavour (that he knows oh so well) lingers within its particles.

god, he wants you so bad. he doesn’t even care how this may look.

a man like him on his knees, ready to worship you as if you spout riches and bleed liquid gold.

except you do, you’re worth more than sukuna could ever hope to be. the weight of your net-worth unfairly tips the scales and he doesn’t even care. all because he loves you.

“why’re we even goin’ to this stupid dinner in the first place?” your rough and ragged boyfriend ponders out loud, with his words slipping over the edge of his sneaky snake's tongue. said tongue, if ryomen inches forward enough, could drag over your budding clit — clearly outlined through the barely-there crotch of your lace panties. “spend the night with me, doll. don’t gotta go a place…” a thick finger pulls the string of fabric away from your sticky slit, toying with the material until your premature arousal glazes his fingertip.

but before the man can reward himself with the goods between your perfect thighs — the sharp point of your heel digs into ryomen’s firm right pec. your shoes are clean so they won’t leave a mark, but he feels like you’ve left one on his heart, even as the bottom of your shoe pushes him back and away from your warmth.

“oh ryo, you must be hungry for the wrong thing,” you laugh breathlessly with your head tipping backwards, the sound shooting straight down to the hardness beneath sukuna’s black slacks. you push at him further until he rests back on his haunches — expression crazed and like a starved animal. “you forgot the other shoe, love.”

it turns out, you’re just as skilled a huntress as sukuna is. a vixen who stalks her prey and makes them beg for all her mercy. “how careless of me…” the man drawls, finding himself drawn to you like a moth to a candle’s flame. he craves your attention, he basks in it when you give it to him in the way that you do now. there’s not a moment where you’re not looking at him, admiring the shape and form of your man as if he’s the rarest piece of art in the world or a treasure more expensive than any diamond.

within the depth of those enticing brown eyes lay the truest form of love — even when you’re seconds away from devouring each other, your love for ryomen outgrows any doubt planted in your heart by your bitter family.

“y’must be so disappointed in me…” he goes on, lifting your second ankle in one hand and adjusting your foot into the perfect position to slip your other heel on. “how can i make it up to ya, gorgeous?” sukuna’s voice is gravelly, laced with intonations of neediness as he laces you up and finishes the job with a hand clasped over your knee. “i’ll do anythin’, anythin’ you want.”

graciously, you remove your red bottom from his shoulder and part your knees like the Red Sea — giving the older itadori the perfect view of the small string of fabric nestled between your glistening folds. even with the way you play coy, you’re always ready for him — as if it’s coded into your DNA to yearn for his touch.

the upper row of your teeth sink into your shiny bottom lip as you look down at your man with unadulterated hunger. “anything, ryo?”

sukuna’s chest rumbles (like a storm) with pride, his watchful gaze noting how you twitch and writhe for more. he leans forward and lets his black painted nails sink into the surface of your thighs — dragging you towards his awaiting mouth. “anythin’ for you gorgeous.” he repeats, voice raspy. in one swift movement, your red-bottom heels are swung over wide shoulders with thick muscles, keeping you nice and spread for him.

from over your barely-there-panties, a finger glides through your glistening pussy lips and presses into your budding clit just to get a reaction out of you. a squeak that makes sukuna’s hips buck into the floor and a full body shiver that has your heels knocking behind the man’s head. arousal pearls on his fingertip through the material, which he leisurely rubs into the rest of your heated and throbbing sex, right down to your quivering hole.

two fingers with polished black nails slip past your underwear’s waistband and dip inside of you with practised ease, instantly curling to find that special spot that drives you up the wall. sukuna knows you well, he’s spent years getting to that point. he’s committed every little detail there is to know about you to memory — the your lashes flutter when you like how he touches you, the way your throat bobs just before you mewl out his name. he knows exactly what you like and how to make you feel good. that fact drives sukuna into a frenzy.

his fingers start to work you faster, a lewd suctioning sound echoing throughout the luxurious room the deeper they plunge into you. sukuna’s thumb deliciously rolls over your swollen clit to add to your mounting pleasure, writing the signature of his claim on one of the most sacred parts of your body — where no other person can have you.

“ryomen!” you squeal in surprise, your shaky thighs threatening to close around your boyfriend’s skilled hands. your hole clenches around his thick digits feverishly while drooling directly into the seat of his rough palm.

a resounding chuckle echoes between your legs, vibrating against your syrupy sex as his pink head of hair disappears beneath the hem of your silken skirt. “that good, huh?” comes his lazy reply to your call of his name, using his fingers to fuck your arousal back into you. “what’s the matter, pretty girl?”

condescension twists with your boyfriend’s baritone voice, sending sparks of delight through your body like a thunder strike from zeus himself. when it comes to sex and pleasing you — sukuna is a god amongst mankind. the best you’ve ever had:

“don’t tease,” you growl out impatiently through gritted teeth, though your words melt into a whiny moan when sukuna easily bares down on your g-spot because he knows your squishy insides like the backs of his very hands. he finds it adorable when your face scrunches at the sensation of his cold, silver ring brushing up against your molten, sticky cunt and hums in content when you squirt a little bit for him in response. “we…we h-have plans for tonight!”

“‘m sorry princess, didn’t know we were in a rush.” ryomen says smugly, leaning into the sinful scent of your sex as if he’s been bewitched. not even the sound of your silver gladiator heels knocking against one another behind his head can pull the man out of this reverie. despite your warning, your boyfriend figures that there’s still time to have his way with you, you don’t really care about being on time to meet your family and you hardly have the brain capacity to think about them right now.

not when you fall under the vicious waves of ecstasy and give in to your depraved lover. ryomen quickly has you drowning in pleasure as he finally takes the plunge and replaces his thumb on your clit with his lips wrapped around it. he sucks on the little nub from over your panties, tongue glazing the fabricated barrier with his saliva as he commits the taste of you to memory once again.

your natural musk has sukuna drunk and high within seconds. you’ve got him returning to old habits and addictions he doesn’t have the strength to fight off. you’re bad for him and he knows it, but he can’t help but to make out with your clothed mound like it’s his life’s mission, mapping out the shape of your cunt through the stringy, soiled material. you ought to be embarrassed with the way you throb against sukuna’s eager lips as he buries his face further into your pussy. he inhales sharply, nastily, with his nose nudging against the sensitive treasure in circles — coaxing you open like a flower in the spring bloom.

ecstasy decides to bloom within you too, evergreen roots taking residence deep within your chest and curling around your beating heart. your pulse quickens in anticipation, an intoxicating veil of covetous yearning shrouding your brain in darkness as the tip of sukuna’s tongue now begins to circle your tight little entrance. even with the fabric in the way, you greedily attempt to clench down on his predatory pink appendage and keep him locked inside your cunt — squirting small streams of your juices in the process.

if your siblings could see you right now, how dirtily your man begins to ravage you just minutes before your family dinner while dripping on his tongue and the expensive bed daddy paid for, they’d be horrified. the sentiment strikes a pang of arousal in you, spreading to your boyfriend like a wildfire.

and as ryomen hooks a finger around the soiled gusset of your panties to pull them down, you hardly find it within yourself to care about what your snotty sisters might think — not when you’re about to receive the best head and best orgasm of your life.

“how d’ya wan’it?” instead of making a move to eat you out properly, ryomen takes two fingers and spreads your folds and exposes them to the blazing heat of his breath. exhaling through his nose next, he watches with blood red eyes as you twitch beneath his hold, dribbling liquid gold more than his mouth drools. “you’re so fuckin’ wet…all this from puttin’ on those pretty shoes?” your thigh shifts in response, heels clicking and back arches from luxury sheets crinkling under your back.

huffing impatiently, you send a threatening look down at your boyfriend despite how vulnerable you are to his torture teeth that could tear you apart in an instant. “ryo…your mouth,” you whinge, voice slipping into an almost babyish tone. despite your hard stare, your eyes are wet and wide like a prey animal watching its life go by right before it’s hunted or a deer in headlights, for that matter. “you promised you wouldn’t t-tease!”

“yeah, yeah, i know. ‘m sorry,” sukuna hums confidently, except he’s not really apologetic in the slightest — hardly doing his best to tame the uncomfortable yearning building up at your core. you’re a mess for him and he loves it, he’s entertained by the thought of you needing him so bad that it might kill you. he takes pride in knowing it’s not just him who feels this way. “thank you for tellin’ me, by the way. gonna use my mouth to fuck this pretty pussy til’ she’s creamin’ all for me,” he growls to you in a sultry tone, his aphrodisiac-like words a breath’s width away from your sloppy mound — its timbre sound sending tremors of electricity through your swollen, unattended clit that convulses from the lack of attention.

nothing inflates ryomen sukuna’s ego more than the feeling of your sex throbbing against his face — juices glossing the plump swell of his lips as he wraps them around your puffy pleasure nub. his chest bristles as you open up for him like a flower in spring, the scent of your arousal acting like a perfume to him — the bee with the stinger of pleasure. he works his savage mouth along the length of your slit, as though he lacks the manners of a decently raised man, tongue prodding at your entrance just to be mean. after a while, sukuna stops sucking and making out with your dirty, creamy cunt to nip at your titillating folds, taking one between rows of sharpened pearly whites and gently pulling it away from you.

at the abrupt feeling — you cry out hoarsely in a mix of bliss and surprise, taking a peek at the pink haired man between your spiked thighs with swimming vision. sukuna’s face is soaked, his angled jaw and cheeks and chin glazed in a layer of your slick as if he’s bitten into the ripest piece of fruit in adam and eve’s garden. the trail runs armously down and over his adam’s apple, coaxing your lover into eating you out properly this time.

finally, finally putting his filthy mouth to good use.

“fuck, i love the way y’drool for me down here. got so much to give, don’cha gorgeous?” sukuna mewls into you whilst kitten licking your slit, drinking you in as though you’re a glass of water in an oasis of lust and sex. he chuckles happily at your dreamy sigh and circling hips that grind down on his face, tapping three fingers against your sticky pleasure bud lovingly. annoyingly ( but not without appreciation from you), sukuna takes it a step further by sloppily kissing you there.

even with the time crunch, your pleasure takes priority. eating you out is like a reward for your man, it’s as though he was out on this earth by the gods purely to make you see stars. you feel lucky that he chose you out of all he could where he feels blessed to be the man you let touch you like this.

“mmph, ryo… always g’na be wet f’you. for my man. only you get me this fucked up,” you drawl with a silky voice, making a show of tweaking your own nipples from over your dress for your boyfriend. with the slipperiness of a snake, your hands slide down from between the valley of your heaving breasts, over your clothed tummy ( that twists with knots of ecstasy ) and into the slicked pink locks that tickle your inner thighs. messing up his perfect look, you grip sukuna’s roots and tug on them forcefully — coaxing him further into the debauched realm concealed by the skirts of your dress.

“princess…” ryomen lets out a pathetic, muffled groan — increasing the pace of the tip of his tongue as it lewdly flicks at your sex. “have you always had such a dirty mouth? what would yer daddy think?”

your head tips back at the new, gratifying sensation — ecstasy mounting in your lower tummy like bricks of a steady wall. “for as long as i’ve been yours,” comes your crazed and melodious laughter, only interrupted by pockets of squelching noises emitted from your squelching cunt. “oh baby…i don’t give a fuck about what my ‘daddy’ thinks. only you. let him stay mad — f-fuck! kuna!”

fuelled by the idea of pissing off your stuck up family, tattooed hands move to grip where your legs bend at the knee — pushing them back until your skirt rides up over your fleshy ass and your knees hit your shoulders and the soles of your shoes are able to lay flat against sukuna’s rippling back muscles. he hisses at the slight sting he feels from the pointed heel digging into his skin through his shirt, but it only fucks him up more. your pleasure is his pain, ryomen doesn’t give a fuck about anything else except for how good his girl feels.

somewhere amongst the sweat soaked sheets your phone lets out a shrill cry — signifying a call from someone in your spoiled family. without sukuna’s command, you scramble through the sea of stiff fabric peaks and reach for the device, hitting the answer button before checking the contact.

“h-hello?” you say in a poor attempt to speak clearly, stifling a deep moan. “speak of the devil and the devil shall appear…” comes your shallow whisper as you address your boyfriend. your chest grows sticky with perspiration beneath the bust of your dress — breathing uneven and heavy because of the way ryomen’s tongue wriggles past your tight little hole, squirming about against your lush walls to hit that special spot that has you screaming and seeing stars while on the phone to one of your relatives.

“excuse me, young lady?” it’s your father, much to sukuna’s dismay, his voice is irritatingly recognisable over the crackling of the line. of course he would find some way to unknowingly interrupt yourself and your loving, doting, disapproved boyfriend. “you were supposed to meet your sisters and i for dinner nearly forty minutes ago. where are you?”

sukuna’s agitation shows with each wet kiss he aggressively places between your swollen folds, nasty and miscalculated whilst designed to leave you a shaky mess.“o-oh! hi daddy,” you emphasise the word, voice rising an octave until its light an airy. your swimming, doe eyes lock with crimson ones that bore into the depths of your soul from below — taunting and testing the pink haired man’s patience. “‘m getting ready. don’t you want me to look pretty?”

the silky lilt to the tail end of your words causes sukuna to growl against your pulsating, temperate mound while his fingers yank you down onto his handsome face by your meaty thighs. eagerly, your hips canter down to match the stride of his tongue stroking your pretty pussy as though you’re riding his aching cock to your heart’s content. his tongue fills you up almost as good, warmly slipping and sliding over pleasure spots only he can reach.

he kitten licks and sucks and bites at your raw sex like a wild animal, loudly moaning into you with every roll of your cunt over his face. you taste like heaven, the flavour almost angelic on his tongue. sukuna feels like a sinner with a greedy craving for more and if you cared just a little bit, you might have been concerned about your father catching the lascivious sounds from between your thighs over the phone.

“i’m past the point of caring about how you present yourself at dinner,” your father says your name stern and low — talking to you as if you’re a child and not the woman you’d grown into. “your sisters are ravenous, they flew all the way into the country for this. don’t you think that they deserve an ounce of your time?”

losing yourself to the danger of it all, you chuck your phone to the side after putting it on loud speaker. your lover targets your prominent, adorable clit again, the tip of his tongue rolling it in large circles until you’re close to tearing the sheets from the bed. you try your best to contain the scream building up in your throat, but sukuna has never made it easy for you to keep quiet.

“mph…fuck!”

“young lady! watch your mouth!” your father scolds you, still blissfully unaware of the fact that you’re getting tongue fucked by the man he hates all the way up to cloud nine. “i bet that good for nothing scoundrel has put you up to this. i keep telling you, no daughter of mine should be with a man like that. where is he? he’s the one making you late.”

“actually, dad, sukuna’s been a good boy. sitting all handsome in those suits you like. i’m the one making…oohhh…m-making us late!” cruel carmine eyes flutter at your generous praise, lovesick as a sunburn like blush spreads over the bridge of sukuna’s nose from how desperate he is for you. if you tried your hardest to listen in over the wet sounds of your cunt being sucked on for dear life, along with the shaky delectable laments your lover lets out, you might be able to hear the sound of a zipper going down or the slickness of sukuna’s hand around his meaty shaft as he jerks himself off. no longer able to fight off his desire for you.

your stomach flips at the sight and the pleasure mounts with your impending high, dainty fingers beginning to tug and twist at sukuna’s blushing pink hair. his pain is your pleasure.

“you’ve lost your mind, i didn’t raise you to be like this.”

“you hardly…hardly raised me at all,” the words feel tacky in your mouth, as if it’s been stuffed with cotton that sucks up your saliva. it doesn’t help that your voice begins to waver too, reaching whistle tone notes.

ryomen sukuna doesn’t know what’s hotter, the fact that you’re so easily able to sass your rich, douchey father or the fact that you’re letting him give you head while on the phone. “shit,” he curses as low as possible, using one had to smooth the pad of his thumb over the slit in his cockhead — smearing the precum that beads there over the sensitive flesh. his kiss swollen lips part from your sweet sex for only a moment to taunt you. he remains connected to you by a single rope of clear elixir that leaks from your precious little hole. “god, gorgeous. you’re fuckin’ drenched…all from talkin’ back to daddy, huh?”

a lewd and sacchariferous mewl rumbles from deep in your chest as it rapidly rises and falls. it’s all too much for you to keep up with, you’re way too dizzy and it’s only made worse when sukuna bobs his head between your quivering legs so that his fat tongue drags through the entirety of your ravaged pussy lips.

“holyfuckingshit!” you shoot the man a glare once you remember where you are and who you’re on the phone to.

ryomen offers up a cocky smirk as his excuse before delving beneath your silken skirts once more, though it does nothing to mask how turned on he is — squeezing the base of his drippy shaft to stop himself from cumming too soon to the sight of you.

you try not to forget the presence of your father again, it would be hard to, since he’s insistent on betraying you down the phone. “speak back to me again and i’m cutting you off. starting with cancelling the card you and your mangy boyfriend live off of.”

“do it, i dare you.” you somehow manage to snap back, jolting at the sensation of sukuna’s razor sharp teeth grazing your clit. he hisses deliciously against your sex as your heels cut pretty crescent moons into his back. “i-i wonder what mom would have to say about it if you…if you did!”

silence echoes down the line, broken by small pockets of your boyfriend slurping on your folds like a man starved. slurps that you’re just so blessed to be able to hear. you should feel ashamed instead of hungry, doing nothing to tame the greedy beast inside you that craves more and more of sukuna’s attention on you. you must have lost your mind, for letting him eat you out so brazenly while you converse with your father on the phone. it’s so depraved, so dirty and yet you wouldn’t give this… give sukuna up for the world.

you love him more than anything. love how he treats you like you’re the strongest person he knows whilst handling you as though you’re made of glass. you love how he gets off to you, dribbling thick white from the tip of his cock because you make him a mess enough to need to jerk off. you love how he pleasures you, his baritone laments and simpers muffled against your cunt sending fireworks up your spine and setting them off at your tailbone where your mounting pleasure lies.

you love ryomen ‘sukuna’ itadori, and no amount of scolding from your father will ever change that.

“just…just be here within the hour. please.” your father requests quietly.

“see you soon, daddy,” you hang up the phone faster than a lightning strike, all of your composure flying out of the window with the last dial tone. “ryo, fuck! i’m close… gonna cum. please, hurry!”

“god you’re such a fuckin’ menace, hah, pretty girl?” your pink haired lover quips airily, his jaw tight from flicking his tongue against your sex in sync with his fist flicking around his throbbing dick, slinging precum about the place. he’s amused and love sick all at once, a feeling that was once foreign to ryomen before he met you. “gotcha so turned on by talking back to your dad, yeah? all while i ate this pretty fuckin’ pussy out… so nasty,” only sukuna could make you feel this loved while degrading you, the only man who’s ever been able to do so. none of them could come close to knowing your body like he does, the way you twitch when you’re close and start to pout like a spoilt brat when you’re frustrated from waiting for your orgasm.

sukuna takes the edge off by lifting a tattooed arm and slapping his hand down on the entirety of your cut — letting out a haughty moan at the sight of glistening droplets of arousal flying about the place while your heels drag down his back with delightful pain. you cry out, but your boyfriend’s mouth is back on you in seconds — soothing your poor pussy. “‘m so lucky to have you though, my nasty fuckin’ princess,” he mewls into you, using his tongue to bully your g-spot over and over and over while he fists his precum glazed cock into oblivion. “gonna make you cum, gorgeous girl. let you make a mess in my mouth, you want that?”

“m-more than anything, ryo!” you wail, fighting back tears as you spew a fresh wave of your sweet nectar from your pathetic hole. you do have a dinner to get to after all, you should only be crying from one place. your cunt. the sound of said squelching cunt and your dulcet whines make sukuna’s balls twitch with a load he would only dedicate to you. “i love you, love you s’much…love you,”

the delirium starts to catch up with you, becoming too much to bare as you babble nonsense into the sex tainted air. you can’t hold back, some of your release already beginning to stream out of you. “‘m gonna cum, ryo…cum with me, please!” you squeal in warning, mere seconds before your body succumbs to sukuna’s eager tongue and the wrath of your orgasm.

“love you too, s’much,” your glittery heels knock behind his sweaty mass of pink hair, cutting into his back as he walks you through it all. “f-fuck baby, that’s it,” he goads as you gush into his mouth like a tidal wave. you have so much to give, release trickling into his mouth, painting his cheeks and sliding down his adam’s apple in a viscous current. sukuna is swept away by the arousal in the air, drinking you in as he pumps his cock harshly and in tune with the way you weakly hump at his face through the aftershocks.

pulling his sticky mouth away from your equally sticky sex, sukuna replaces his tongue with three of his fingers to your clit — coaxing you through the rest of your high as he draws random shapes on the puffy nub. “keep that orgasm goin’ for me, pretty princess, give it to me…give it t’me while i fill you up,” he rambles brainlessly, abruptly standing up as he fists his cock pulled out from the zipper of his dress pants — barely fighting back his own orgasm. “spread those fuckin’ legs, wanna cum inside.”

“ryo!”

“ahh, fuckin’…fuuuck!” in one swift move, your boyfriend slips his sensitive and bulbous cockhead past your quivering, orgasming entrance — shallowly thrusting into your tight heat as you spasm around him, before he’s thrown off the edge into his own high. “c-cummin’…” hot sticky ropes of white seed flood your womb, which sukuna keeps plugged into you as he folds you over — chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. your heels clink at the dip in his waist behind his back. you’re still cumming as languid thrusts smear your boyfriend’s cum against your rippling walls, but you’re content, breathing beginning to even out as you both come down from cloud nine.

still releasing in small spurts, ryomen slowly pulls out of you with soft kisses pressed to the side of your face. “sorry, didn’t wanna fuck up my pants before dinner,” he chuckles over the warm static spreading over your happy little brain.

you offer him your own dopey laughter, remaining sprawled out underneath your hunk of a man. “so you decide to just jizz inside of me? you’re a class act ryo. what about my dress?”

“first of all, you don’t like it when shit goes to waste ‘n second off all, i made damn sure that it stuck. your dress is fine, brat.” a chaste kiss is pressed to your nose as sukuna helps you sit up, double checking for any mess he might have left between your shaky legs. “let me clean you up, don’t want your dad findin’ out what we were really up to all this time.”

“pretty sure he already knows,” you shrug, rolling your ankles as you lean down to fix a strap on your heel. “you’re a messy eater, ryo.”

but before you can fix your shoe back into place, ryomen sukuna is already on it — adjusting the strap to sit comfortably on your leg before he stands again and retreats to the bathroom for a warm cloth to clean you up with.

you watch with a smirk as he goes, admiring all of the little red marks on his shoulder blades you’ve left on him with your shoes. “then i guess i’ll have to use some fuckin’ table manners at dinner,” he remarks childishly. “but i can’t help how delicious you look in those heels, gorgeous.”

and it’s true, you’re the only meal sukuna could ever want — especially when you leave your claim on him with high heels like that.

2K notes · View notes

bvidzsoo · 4 months ago

Text

Obliviate Me

✩‧₊˚ Obliviate ⇄ to forget [Latin] ✩‧₊˚

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: dark!Park Seonghwa x female reader

✩‧₊˚ Warning: smut, addiction, ptsd, mentions of war, violence, fights ✩‧₊˚ Word count: 27.6k ✩‧₊˚ Rating: nsfw ✩‧₊˚ Genre: Harry Potter!au, set in the forties/Grindelwald's time, lovers to enemies!au, tragic love!au ✩‧₊˚ Summary: ✩‧₊˚ Grindelwald's reign holds everyone under terror, and you decide you want to join the right side and put an end to it. But the stars seem to refuse to align for you and your lover as you find yourselves on opposing teams. Will your love prevail, or will you succumb to the darkness? ✩‧₊˚

A/N: My lovelies, I...I am bawling my eyes out ngl, I can't believe I wrote this. Bring a box of tissues with you before you sit down reading, I am already forever sorry if I cause anyone any heartache<3 I have proofread this, but it's past 1am and you might still find mistakes, so I'm sorry about that! There's little time jumps in here, so for a quick clarification, after each divider you'll find them back in the current time (which is still in the forties!). I probably had a lot more things to say, but I forgot and I'm sleepy, so I'll settle for this much: there are probably some inaccuracies to the Harry Potter canon events as I took some creative liberty so yeah, keep that in mind when reading; also Mingi and MC aren't related, they just share the same surname! I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into this oneshot y'all (as into everything I write LOL), so I hope you enjoy! I appreciate all of your thoughts, so please leave feedback, I love reading them!<3 (special shotout to @hwasbbyg because somehow I always have you in mind when I'm writing something Seonghwa related <3) divider

Times were dire, both in the Wizarding World and the Muggle World. Supremist leaders with atrocious views unleashed attack after attack upon innocent civilians, creating more destruction than victory. My heart broke daily reading the newspaper, both the muggle and wizard one. It made my blood boil that two men, so different yet similar upon closer view, would play God and decide what was wrong and right. Who was pure and who deserved to suffer. Nobody was perfect, nobody will ever be. I couldn’t just sit idly at home and be the housewife many women dreamed of becoming after graduating. I wanted to make a name for myself, I wished to become strong enough to save the innocent, to take their side and advocate for those who were too scared or weak to do so for themselves. That is why upon graduating from Hogwarts, I became an Auror. The training was harsh and demanding, but it wasn’t anything I wasn’t ready to bear if it meant it would lead to saving millions of lives. I was sick of all the spilled blood and wailing on the streets, I wished to see peace and serenity, to go to bed without the fear of never waking up again. Four years have passed since I have left the confines of Hogwarts, since I was forced to face the horrors of the outside world, to fend for myself, and to become someone. It was hard and terrifying, but for once, I felt complete. I felt happy with where I stood in my life, I was proud of who I had become. And I knew that as long as Grindelwald isn’t stopped, I shall not rest even for a second.

The auditorium was small in size and stuffed, the benches placed in a circular shape around a platform that had a table sitting on it and a chair. It was deep down on the second level, far away from the Auror’s offices, hidden between the women’s and men’s restrooms. The auditorium wasn’t meant to be easily found and it was only used when a situation had turned dire, when an emergency meeting just had to be called. I had chosen to sit towards the back of the auditorium, closer to the exit as the air felt stale and warm inside the stuffed room, at least thirty aurors squeezed together towards the front of the room. My throat felt parched and my palms were sweaty as I had them placed in front of me, leveling my breaths as Theseus Scamander, the Head of the Auror Office, stood tall on the platform, a forlorn look on his face. Anyone who had picked up the newspaper earlier this morning must’ve seen the devastating news of the destruction caused to the small and welcoming wizarding village, Apo’s Nook. There was nothing left of it, just the ashes of ghosts that would haunt the land and the smoking foundations of destroyed homes that would never flourish again.

I felt a lump in my throat as Theseus sighed long and loud, eyes surveying the auditorium. It was deadly silent in here, everyone was either too mad or sad to say anything. The time was barely nine in the morning and we knew we had a long day ahead of us. This meeting was a top-secret one, whatever was said inside this auditorium would be never allowed to leave the confines of these walls. Only the best of the best aurors were called in, no doubt for a mission that would be challenging both physically and mentally. It wouldn’t be my first special mission, yet I couldn’t help but feel dread for what was to come. A tiny voice in the back of my head tried to whisper warnings this morning while I was getting ready to come to work, my gut twisting nauseatingly and making me more restless than I usually was. Something would happen here today that I wouldn’t like, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

“Good morning, aurors.” Theseus’ voice rang loudly in the quiet room and I gulped, feeling sweat collect on my nape, under my hair. I didn’t want to get rid of my jacket, finding the warmth it provided comforting, but I was sweating too much. Careful, not to make any sound, I wrestled out of the satin fabric and placed it onto the table in front of me. My dress was thick to protect me from the merciless winter, and it reached just below my ankles as the front had a V-cut that stopped just above the valley of my breasts, “I assume you all know by now why you’ve been called here.”

There was a collective murmur of confirmation to Theseus’ question and I gulped, patting my forehead free of any perspiration, “What occurred in the early hours of today’s morning is—terrible and unforgivable.”

I couldn’t help but let my eyes run over the aurors as Theseus’ voice shook with raw emotion. He was just as affected by the news as everyone else in the room. I fiddled with my fingers as my eyes finally fell on a familiar person, the tiniest smile slipping onto my lips. It brought little comfort and assurance to see my former professor in a place where I was surrounded by fearless warriors who were mere strangers to me, but would soon become my trusted companions. The only other two aurors that I did become friends with throughout the four years of working here were Song Mingi and Jeong Yunho, partners in missions and other aspects of life, and I haven’t seen them in over a month now. They were alive, and as safe as possible, but they were far away from our home, in a land colder and far scarier than what London was at the moment. They were close to the German border, spying on Grindelwald’s men having infiltrated themselves amongst them. They were our precious informants, their jobs far more dangerous than ours at the moment. I couldn’t help but pray every night to a God that listened, that the two people I started cherishing in such a short time would return to me in one piece and alive.

“Grindelwald has destroyed another village,” Theseus’ words snapped me out of my thoughts as Professor Dumbledore turned his head, gaze finding mine, “wizards and witches were killed once again because they refused to join his dark cause. This cannot go on anymore, I won’t allow it.”

Professor Dumbledore bowed his head slightly in a nonverbal greeting before he turned his head, looking at Theseus with an unreadable expression on his face. I gulped and subconsciously reached for the pocket of my coat, feeling around for the plastic holder in the shape of a tube.

“I was given full permission to construct a team that will directly take out Grindelwald’s men until he’s left with nothing, until he’s alone and powerless.” Theseus leered, face contorted into fury, “I shall task you with bringing down these disgraces one by one, dead or alive, I do not care as long they cannot help Grindelwald anymore.”

My fingers tightened around the plastic, my head turning when I saw a man stand up with a heavy-looking folder in his hands approach Theseus, “We have gathered all the information we could about Grindelwald’s most important wizards and witches, they are our main target. I want you all to look at these photographs closely, commit them to memory as each one of you will be handed one to capture and bring forth to the court.”

I watched from the back of the auditorium as the man opened the folder and placed it down on a table in the front row, starting to hand out photograph after photograph. Knowing that I sat way too far in the back, I rose to my feet and swiftly took the plastic bottle from my pocket, slipping it between my breasts so that nobody would see it. Pushing my hands behind my back, I walked down a few stairs until I reached the row that had more wizards sitting in it, grabbing a photograph that wasn’t being looked at yet. The picture was in black and white, but the face of the witch was clear. Something in my stomach coiled as I recognized her being my peer at Hogwarts, just a year above myself, and a Slytherin like I had been too. The man sitting next to me looked at me with a questioning gaze, and I passed him the photograph as he handed me another one, this one of an older wizard who had a cunning look in his eyes as he held a cigar between his teeth. Something was unsettling about his gaze as I leaned against the side of the table, passing it along as another then another photograph passed through my grasp as I committed their faces to memory. Some of these pictures seemed to have been taken recently, right at Apo’s Nook before it went up in flames. My jaw clenched as the witch in the next photograph was grinning widely as if she was taunting us, and I accidentally passed it to the man next to me a bit too harshly as he gave me a concerned look. I ignored him and took a deep breath, fingers itching to hold onto the plastic bottle hidden between my breasts. The news this morning had been too shocking, and I had no choice but to take two pills instead of one. It wasn’t healthy, but I did force my breakfast down my throat in hopes that it wouldn’t make me feel ill if I doubled the dose.

The next photograph that was passed to me was flipped upside down, and I sighed as I braced myself for another unfamiliar face to commit to memory, except that when I flipped it, my whole body froze, blood going cold. I tried to gulp, but I couldn’t due to the lump in my throat. My lungs contracted, and I desperately tried not to gasp as my fingers dug into the fragile paper and I fought the urge to rip the photograph into shreds. I knew this would happen sooner than later, but I realized how completely unprepared I was for it. The wizard in the photograph was smiling widely, the photo not recent at all, his round eyes turning upwards at the corners, his front teeth on full display. His hair had been freshly cut before the photograph was taken, yet it still fell in his eyes as he failed to style it—he was talented at many things, yet he never quite learned how to tame his wild hair. I could feel my hands start to shake the longer I stared at the face of my first love, my heart beating so fast my ears started to ring. I struggled to breathe and I knew I was turning pale as my lips parted, a quiet gasp leaving through them. It was enough to alert the man sitting next to me as I felt his eyes on me, but my body couldn’t react to anything as I crumbled up the photograph, throwing it far away from myself. I heard my name being called and words that sounded like they were asking if I was alright, but my vision had started turning black from the lack of oxygen. The room was too small, too stuffy, too warm; I couldn’t breathe.

Hands still shaking, I gripped my dress and lifted it above my ankles as I abruptly turned around, eyes settling on the exit desperately as I felt my feet take me up the stairs, running as I extended my hand way before I have reached the door to grab the handle. My heart was in my throat and the ringing in my ears was as loud as a kettle’s whistle, and I yanked the door open with all the force I could muster up due to the tremor of my whole body. The air of the hallway hit me hard, making me gasp loudly as I slammed the door shut behind me, feeling tears prick at my dry eyes as I flung myself forward, hands cushioning my crash as I flew into the wall in front of me, forehead banging against it. I needed it, I needed something painful to shake me out of my borderline psychotic state. I couldn’t take another pill so soon, I really just shouldn’t. I bit my lower lip as I struggled to take deep breaths, the tremors of my body worsening as my hands curled into fists, forcing me to close my eyes. The ringing in my ears had started to subside, but my heart was still beating way too fast and my throat was too dry. I really couldn’t take another pill just yet; however, my right hand was reaching for the bottle without wasting another second as I uncapped it and grabbed two pills out of it, throwing them back as my eyebrows furrowed, struggling to gulp them down at once.

I stood desperately waiting for the downers to kick in, the thumping of my head subsiding as the ringing of my ears went away completely, the tremors of my body remaining, however. I felt my muscles trying to relax, not even having noticed how tense they had become, and I gulped as I turned around to press my back against the wall, groaning as my head fell back. My throat had started hurting, the pills having scrapped it, but I couldn’t care less as my frantic heartbeat had finally started slowing down. I heard the door of the auditorium open, and my eyes opened as I watched my former professor approach me with a concerned look on his face. He held a plastic cup that he extended towards me, and I took it eagerly, downing the cool water as it finally soothed the ache in my throat. I crumpled the plastic in my fist, sighing long as I looked at Professor Dumbledore, wondering what was going through his mind having seen me in such a hysterical state.

“War is harsh,” As if reading my thoughts, his eyes twinkled with that familiar warm glint, “it affects everyone differently. You’ve seen things no woman your age should have, but you are a talented auror, Miss Song. However, I fear you won’t be amongst us for much longer if you continue abusing those.”

I felt shame crawl up my body as the professor’s eyes fell on the bottle, and I quickly hid it behind my back, “I’m sorry.”

I felt like a little child that was being scolded for doing something bad as I averted my gaze away from Professor Dumbledore’s, and sniffed as I noticed my heartbeat had finally returned to its natural rhythm.

“How are your parents doing, Miss Song?” Professor Dumbledore’s voice was soft, and I shrugged looking up at him.

“They are scared, as is everyone else.” I sighed, biting my lower lip, “I have moved them to the Wizarding World in hopes of keeping them safe, but nowhere is safe anymore, Professor.”

“It’s saddening, indeed.” The professor nodded, sharing my feelings of sadness that were slowly turning into despair, “But I think you did the right thing. The Wizarding World might not be the safest place at the moment, but it is a lot safer than the Muggle World.”

It was reassuring to hear the approval of my much wiser and smarter professor, and for a second, I believed that I had done something right for the first time in a long time. No matter how many dark wizards and witches I have captured, I never truly felt accomplished. It wasn’t enough, because I knew I could do better if sent on even more missions, and finally, the chance to fulfill my selfish desires while proving myself to be good and useful to my superiors, had come.

“Are you feeling any better now, Miss Song?” The professor’s eyebrows raised as I quickly hid the bottle back between my breasts and nodded, squaring my shoulders back. There it was, the condescending look of deep thought crossing the professor’s face as he looked towards the ground, humming lowly, “When it comes to the matters of the heart, it’s a slippery and unsure territory, Miss Song. You might think you are prepared to face whoever and take them out, but if you haven’t completely let go of them, your heart will outrule your conscious, your rationality. Even if you have long released the feelings you had once harbored for them, your more rational side might stop you, might hold you back from delivering the final blow.”

I felt tears trying to prick at my eyes as they snapped up, boring into Professor Dumbledore’s as he had a sad smile on his lips, “It’s difficult to forget your first love, Miss Song, no matter how deeply they have wronged you.”

The tremors in my hands haven’t disappeared and wouldn’t go away today, but they halted for a second as I gulped, throat feeling dry again, “He chose his path consciously, as I have chosen mine. Our beliefs have never truly aligned, it was just wishful thinking on my side, Professor. Love, an emotion I do not feel towards him anymore, isn’t stronger than my rational mind. If I would have allowed my heart to lead me throughout my life, I would be by his side now, wallowing in self-misery and pity for all the lives I allowed perish.”

“I have recognized your passion the moment you sat on the stool on the night of the sorting, Miss Song, you’ve known from the very first moment what you wanted and how to get it. I fear I haven’t met a Slytherin as determined and stubborn as yourself, Miss Song—”

“Not even Tom Riddle, sir?”

The professor’s expression suddenly became leveled, warm smile turning into a rather forced one, “I fear I cannot compare you to Tom Riddle, Miss Song.”

I hummed and smiled, memories of the younger boy bashing the professor for even the smallest inconvenience returning. I had never figured out where their distaste came for each other, but as it wasn’t my business, I never prodded more than necessary. I fixed my hair and made sure the little bottle couldn’t be seen as I glanced past the professor, feeling calm enough to join the aurors again, “We should head inside before they deem me unfit for this task, I would hate to miss out on this one, Professor.”

“They cannot afford to lose an auror like you.” Professor Dumbledore chuckled with a thoughtful look on his face as he led us towards the door, opening it for me like the true gentleman he was. I thanked him quietly as I stepped through the threshold, the lump back in my throat as the room went silent at once, everyone turning around to watch me and the professor as we descended the stairs. I went to sit at my initial spot, but Professor Dumbledore gently grabbed my elbow and veered me towards his seat, a witch making a place for me as she had an understanding look on her face.

“Is everything alright, Miss Song?” Theseus asked once the professor and I had taken our seats, the curious eyes of the other Aurors still watching me. I gulped and placed my hands on my knees, trying to hide the tremor behind the desk so that nobody would see it.

“Yes, Mr. Scamander, my apologies for storming out like that.” My voice was leveled as I forced my face to relax, and an easy smile appeared on my lips, “I felt a little ill this morning, I suppose it returned suddenly.”

“Right,” Theseus hummed, a smile matching mine on his lips, “that is reassuring to hear; however, I do wish for a quick recovery should it get worse.”

“Thank you.” I bowed my head as my hands fisted my dress, my heart rate picking up again as I felt the witch next to me gently rub my back. I wasn’t fond of being touched by strangers, but I didn’t have the willpower to ask her to stop. Finally, seemingly content with my half-assed lie, the attention wasn’t on me anymore as everyone went back to conversing with each other. Theseus cleared his throat and walked towards our table, Professor Dumbledore gathering the photographs as they were scattered around on the desk.

“While you were taking a breather, Miss Song, I have informed your colleagues that each one of them will be assigned a dark wizard to survey and consequently take down whenever the Office seems fitting.” I tried to gulp, my throat going dry once again. The witch was still rubbing my back and her touch had started burning my skin through my dress, making me fidget with my hands as I released the grip I had on my dress. I knew this was coming, but I didn’t feel ready. If I could’ve, I would’ve downed the whole bottle of pills, not minding if I would have been the one in need of a funeral.

“I see, Mr. Scamander, who had been assigned to me?” I felt the professor’s eyes take me in carefully as if I were a ticking time bomb, and the hand of the witch was finally away from my body, her sigh too loud as Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat.

“Records say you have been peers with Park Seonghwa at Hogwarts, yes?” I failed to inhale air as my lungs contracted, my worst nightmare lay right in front of my eyes and ears, “Professor Dumbledore, could you confirm this for me?”

“Yes, Mr. Scamander, Miss Song and Mr. Park had been my students barely four years ago.” My eyes burned as I blinked them fast, scared that tears would flood them as my hands shook more, itching to grab the bottle even if for little reassurance. The sedatives weren’t working as they should have, I shouldn’t be so wired up and nervous still. I figured I should buy something stronger; the muggles were more lenient when handing out sedatives than the wizards if you knew how to put on your best act.

“Indeed,” My voice was emotionless, and I knew my face was unreadable as Theseus’ eyes narrowed, “I know Park Seonghwa, but just merely. He was a great student I often had to compete with for the first place in our year.”

The longer Theseus’ eyes bore into mine, the more prominent the soft prodding in my forehead became. I knew what he was doing, way too familiar with the feeling of having my mind invaded. He was searching for memories of Seonghwa and me, of anything that could prove I wasn’t lying and that our roots didn’t grow deeper than a surface-level acquittance. It was laughable how easy it was to veer Theseus around my mind, to trick him into seeing only what I wanted him to see. He wasn’t a born Legilimens, I could feel he was less strong than the likes of Tom Riddle, who was a born natural in his talent, and so, I knew Theseus wouldn’t figure out that I—in fact—was a born Occlumens, the will of my mind stronger than his surface-level talent. I watched as a satisfied expression settled on his features upon viewing the images I allowed him to see, like the brief snappy exchanges between Seonghwa and me when we were in class, trying to show off to the professors, or the duels where we loved to flaunt our skills, or the brief acknowledgments in the hallway when we so happened to pass by each other.

“Very well, Miss Song,” Theseus muttered and then slammed a photograph down in front of me, a much younger Seonghwa smiling mockingly at me, “I trust you to do your best and bring him to his downfall. Mr. Park is an important asset to Grindelwald’s army; we need him gone.”

“He shall be gone, then.”

1943

The classroom was full of vigor as everyone pilled inside, rather excited to see what Professor Merrythought had up her sleeve for us today. She had promised a dueling class sooner than later, and, as we happened to be ahead on our curriculum in DADA class, we got permission from Headmaster Dippet to go ahead and transform our usual classroom into a dueling ring. This year, the Slytherins shared most of their classes with the Ravenclaws, the DADA class being one of them. I let my eyes run over the crowd of the gathering 6th-year Ravenclaws on the other side of the classroom, pressed up against the wall much like myself and my housemates. Despite the majority of students being in their 6th year, Professor Merrythought found it essential that all students above the age of fourteen learn how to duel due to the imminent threat looming above our heads, both in the Wizarding and Muggle World. Therefore, it came as no surprise that younger students were ushered inside by Professor Merrythought, who had a grin on her face. Finding the person I had been looking for in the crowd, on the other side of the classroom, a tiny smile made it onto my lips as I found him already looking at me attentively. His dark hair, once again, fell wildly around his head in curls that looked natural, framing his boyish features as his round eyes sparkled with excitement. I chuckled and felt more elated knowing that Seonghwa was here, the chance of getting paired up with him was rather high as we were the top students of our year.

“Miss Song.” I flinched at the sudden intrusive voice in my head, always taken aback when I was addressed telepathically. I looked away from Seonghwa, eyes falling onto the boy—who despite being younger, was a lot taller than me—was now standing next to me with a stoic expression, ice-cold blue eyes boring into my darker ones. I chuckled and pressed a hand against my chest, always impressed by his skills despite his younger age.

“Mr. Riddle.” I greeted back with a grin, the small prodding at my forehead proof that our telepathic connection worked both ways. It was rare that Tom allowed me inside his mind, and even then, he knew how to guide me around his thoughts to show me only what he wanted me to see—a skill he learned from me, rather quickly. He had a natural talent for learning and achieving accomplishments that wizards and witches older than him struggled to garnish. He was an admirable student and a force to reckon with, I was never too eager when he challenged me to a friendly duel under the pretext of gaining experience by dueling a student who was as outstanding as himself—in reality, he only wished to show off and torment me in the confines of the Room of Requirements when the two of us would head over to study.

“Now, children,” Professor Merrythought clapped her hands together as she walked between the parting crowd of students, everyone watching her curiously, “as you may know, Headmaster Dippet had granted us another dueling session, and I am beyond excited to teach you new tricks that may as well save your lives in the future. The rules are the same as always, no serious spells aimed to harm, and no maiming, Madam Gorsemoor has far more important tasks than to heal some children who didn’t take the rules seriously, yes?”

Everyone muttered a ‘yes’ at once, and Professor Merrythought had a pleased grin on her lips as she pulled her wide shoulders back, her golden eyes surveying the crowd, probably counting how many of us were here. Usually, no more than twenty students were allowed inside the classroom as Professor Merrythought wished to watch and help everyone, not just those few she noticed lacking in their skill, “Can someone tell me what we’ve learned in our last class?”

Several hands shoot up high in the air, mine included, and I felt compelled to look over to the Ravenclaws, not surprised at all to see Seonghwa’s arm high up in the air, shoulders pulled back to make him look taller. I stifled a chuckle and faced the front of the classroom again, feeling Tom’s questioning gaze on the back of my head, but I paid him no mind.

“Mr. Lovegood, perhaps?” Professor Merrythought pointed at the platinum blonde-haired wizard from Ravenclaw, who stood on his tiptoes, about to bounce up and down to gain the professor’s attention.

“Diffindo!” He exclaimed, cheeks flushing instantly as the students from his house snickered, the Slytherins remaining uninterested, “I mean, Diffindo and Relashio.”

“Very well, Mr. Lovegood, thank you.” Professor Merrythought hummed, eyes narrowing as she looked over the crowd once again, her eyes stopping on me as I offered her a small smile.

“I must remind you that Diffindo is a spell that brings great harm if not death to your opponent, and inside this classroom, we shall not use it against each other. And even outside of it, I advise you use it wisely and level-headed only if the occurrence calls for it—”

“Like—if it were for Grindelwald to attack us?!” A younger boy—from Ravenclaw—asked, heads turning in his direction as he yet had to grow a few inches.

“Yes, that’s the likely scenario I had in mind.” Professor Merrythought muttered pleased, nodding at the curious boy with big round eyes. He reminded me of Seonghwa when we had just started our journey at Hogwarts, always eager to learn more and curious about how everything around him worked. Since then, his nature remained but he learned how to control it, how to make it less obvious how big of a nerd he actually was. Some would say he tries to impersonate the ‘cool guy’ archetype, but I know him too well to believe those silly ‘rumors’, “Well, before we learn something new, I’d like to see a duel from our best duellists.”

I gulped, feeling eyes bore into the side of my head as I looked over to Seonghwa again, finding his eyes on me already once again. He was smirking, round eyes fierce as we both knew who Professor Merrythought would call to the front for a demonstration, “Miss Song, Mr. Park, would you grace us with your presence?”

I heard Tom chuckle behind me, unamused, no doubt having known we’d be the chosen ones for this task. It was rarely not us, even Seonghwa and I knew it. I patted down the front of my robe, dusting it off, then squared my shoulders as I made my way through the crowd, getting a few pats on the back from people who I was familiar with. I had grabbed my wand out of my pocket, and Seonghwa and I made it to the front of the class at the same time. His smirk had turned cheeky as he held his wand in his hands elegantly, twirling it playfully as I took a few steps backward and then adjusted my stance.

“Miss Song.” Seonghwa’s voice was deep, tone almost seductive, and I couldn’t help but grin and narrow my eyes at him.

“Mr. Park.” My tone was confident and full of assurance because I knew I would win this duel. I usually did. Seonghwa was very good at dueling, but I was better since I was faster and more agile. I was also a little more talented at wandless magic than he was, I found it amusing whenever he’d exercise next to me, growing frustrated with himself way too quickly. Professor Merrythought clapped her hands and stepped back as Seonghwa and I bowed to each other, wands gripped firmly in our hands as we took our stance for the duel. I zeroed in on Seonghwa only, focusing on the movements of his body, eyes boring into his as if I would read his mind—I could, but I knew he hated it, and what I hated more was when I made him hurt. Seonghwa stood alert, his dark eyes boring into mine, a curious glint in them, laced with mischief and anticipation as he was patiently waiting for me to make my first move. He usually wasn’t the one to attack first, and we both knew that. We’ve dueled each other many times already, we knew each other’s tricks and weakest points.

“Stupefy!” I exclaimed, throwing my hand out, my wand pulsing with power as a light blue zap quickly shot towards Seonghwa, who expertly threw up his defense wall, nulling my attack with a pleased expression. I chuckled under my breath and raised an eyebrow as I threw my next attack at him, “Flipendo!”

Seonghwa huffed as another jinx was thrown his way, raising his arm high as he cast another shield in front of his body, eyes narrowing as he realized I was trying to get him to fly to the other side of the classroom. I knew he was wary of injuring himself, and unless I teased him a little bit at the beginning of our duel, I knew he would try to go easy on me. But I didn’t want easy and friendly, I wanted him to have no mercy and fight as if we were in a real fight, against each other, with only one winner standing tall in the end.

“Stupefy!” Seonghwa exclaimed, the same light blue zap flying towards me, making me easily block his attack as I threw my arms up, casting an invisible shield. Unlike Seonghwa’s, mine remained blue and violet ripples the tell-tale sign that there was something in front of me. Seonghwa narrowed his eyes, calculating his next move as I sent a hot air charm his way, which he dodged skilfully, his black hair falling into his eyes. Seonghwa chuckled and twirled the strands behind his ear, graciously raising his hand, not even looking my way as suddenly electric blue flames came barrelling towards my shield, making the students in the classroom gasp in surprise, but also fear. Someone had started clapping hard, and I knew it was Professor Merrythought as she enjoyed the show the most out of everyone.

Seonghwa was smart, and so, he knew the blue flames would demolish my shield without hurting me, and I could hear Professor Merrythought explain just this to the students who watched us with even more excitement in their eyes. Deciding to not verbalize my next spell, I winked at Seonghwa as I made the hand movement that was required for the Waddiwasi spell, Seonghwa realized a moment too late as, suddenly, crumbled up parchments floated around me for a second, before propelling towards Seonghwa with force and speed that left him defenseless. Seonghwa gasped as he turned sideways, the little balls of parchment crashing against the side of his body without causing any damage—physical because his ego was probably bruised—and the students started laughing as Seonghwa hissed, facing me once again with piercing eyes. I grinned and curtsied teasingly, enjoying the way his cheeks had flushed from embarrassment, his grip tightening around his black wand. His lips didn’t move, but his hand did, and I narrowed my eyes as for a second nothing happened, and then I felt invisible ropes binding around my body, trying to immobilize me as my eyes widened in surprise.

“Emancipare!” I yelped the counterattack of Brachiabindo, the defensive spell Seonghwa had used, and felt the ropes instantly disappear from my body. Seonghwa huffed, running his fingers through his rich curls, looking frustrated as he walked a few steps closer. It wasn’t like him to lose his wits when we were dueling, and so, this was the first sign that told me something was bothering him as he couldn’t completely focus on the task at hand. But this was an exercise, a duel in which we had to demonstrate to the other students, so I pushed my worries aside and cast my next spell, “Fulgari!”

Much like Seonghwa’s spell, it was another one that bid your arms together, however, the ropes weren’t invisible anymore but red and thick, painful, as the charm tied your wrists together tightly. But Seonghwa knew how to counterattack it, and the ropes dropped midair as a white light was cast from his wand. Knowing that we didn’t have much time anymore and that Professor Merrythought was waiting for one of us to disarm the other, I acted quickly, “Expelliarmus!”

However, Seonghwa’s simultaneous attack was silent as it shot from his wand, and our spells clashed in the middle, exploding with a loud boom after they’d tangled up for a few seconds. I gasped as the force pushed me backward, almost making me stumble to the floor. The hem of my robe had caught in the heel of my boots, and as I tried to manage the issue, I felt my mind being prodded at. Not even having to concentrate on the action, my mind instantly blocked the intruder out, my mind’s barriers strong and stubborn, no matter how insistent the intruder became. I knew who it was, in this classroom only Tom Riddle was so talented enough to use Legilimens wandless and non-verbally, but he was least of my worries as Seonghwa’s glare was deep, mouth moving before I could register his words, “Relashio!”

I gasped as my wand was snapped out of my hand, clattering to the floor, making the students roar with claps and cheers, Professor Merrythought not even trying to calm them down as she walked towards Seonghwa and me. I gulped, feeling my cheeks tinge pink at the amateur mistake I had made, the fact even more embarrassing as I was disarmed by such a pathetic spell. But this is what a duel encompassed, and I took a deep breath and released it slowly as I felt Professor Merrythought’s hand on my shoulder, pulling me next to her as she had grabbed onto Seonghwa as well.

“Brilliant!” She exclaimed lips pulled into a huge grin, “Simply brilliant, my students! You will make such fine Aurors, the department will be blessed upon your arrival!”

I muttered a quiet thank you and bowed my head abashed, missing the cold look that crossed Seonghwa’s face upon hearing our professor’s words. Then, when the class had finally settled down, Seonghwa and I were ushered back to our previous spots, Professor Merrythought taking the lead as she started explaining the new spell we’d be learning today. I felt the uncomfortable prodding once again, and a little frustrated, I turned around and snapped at Tom without considering my actions first, “Stop it, Riddle!”

My exclamation thankfully wasn’t too loud, but it made a few heads turn our way. I gulped and averted my eyes flustered as Tom grinned, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “My apologies, but I failed to gain your attention any other way.”

“I am trying to pay attention to the new spell, Riddle,” I muttered as I faced the front of the classroom again, feeling the younger boy step closer as he loomed over my shoulders.

“But you already know it,” He muttered, voice devoid of any emotion and I just sighed, nodding and confirming his claim, “Well, then, let me offer you some friendly advice.”

“The Tom Riddle offering me some friendly advice?” I teased, looking over my shoulder with a chuckle, “So you finally admit that we’re friends?”

“Well,” Tom cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable, “if you think of us as friends, we shall be that, Y/N.”

Tom hadn’t been keen on addressing each other casually in public, but he’s been calling me by my name rather often lately, “And your advice is?”

“Ah, yes,” He cleared his throat again, leaning just a little bit closer to whisper in my ear, “use more non-verbal spells next time and maybe even wandless magic too, Park seems to struggle to defend those. And, try not to lose focus so easily, getting disarmed by Relashio out of all spells is rather embarrassing, Miss Song.”

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, watching Professor Merrythought’s wand as she drew the movement of the spell slowly for us to see, “Thank you for pointing out that Relashio isn’t even a disarming spell.”

It was rare to see any sort of positive reaction from Tom, but he snickered as I felt him take a step back to offer me more space as he was done with the conversation, “Meet me later in the Room of Requirements?”

But apparently, he wasn’t done with the telepathic conversation, “Yes, at the agreed-upon time, I won’t be late this time.”

“You better not be.” Tom’s voice sounded unimpressed in my mind and I rolled my eyes, hoping nobody saw it, “And tell your boyfriend to stop staring daggers at my head, I could disarm and harm him in just a few seconds—”

“Thank you, Tom, that’s enough.” I snapped, never too keen when he tried to bash Seonghwa and his skills—or lack of them as Tom had so often remarked, “And get out of my head, now.”

His chuckle was cut short as I raised the barrier once again, forcing Tom out of my mind. I knew it would be painful to him and I didn’t mind as lately he’s been trying to prod at my mind way too often. But being a born Occlumens came with its perks, no matter how much Tom tried to peek inside my head, he’d only be allowed inside as long as I let him. Having realized that he had some control issues, I didn’t let him know about that little piece of information, for my own peace of mind, really. Feeling like somebody was drilling holes into the side of my head, I looked over to the Ravenclaws, a little taken aback by the dark look in Seonghwa’s eyes and the sneer on his lips. He looked irritated, and as we made eye contact his expression hardened for a second before he looked away, ignoring me for the rest of the class. I had only sighed, paying attention to Professor Merrythought for the rest of the class.

Once class was over everyone pilled outside quickly, eager for the short break before our next class would start. Wanting to speak to Seonghwa in private, I stayed back with the hopes that he’d do the same, but when Professor Merrythought noticed me and asked if I had wanted to speak to her, I realized it was just her, myself, and Lovegood in the classroom. I bid her farewell and then scurried outside, sighing long as I felt disappointed that Seonghwa had left without me even noticing it. He was mad at me, that was now certain, and we wouldn’t have the possibility to meet until dinner or our Prefect duties as this was the last class we shared today. I held the strap of my satchel bag tightly as I gnawed on my bottom lip, wondering whether I could use an excuse and search for him between my classes, when suddenly a classroom door was thrown open and I was harshly yanked to the left by my arm. I gasped as I stumbled, failing to keep up with the aggressive tugging, my back hitting a wall rather painfully as my heart had started racing, eyes widening as I felt warm lips pressing against mine. It took me a second to register what was happening.

I was face to face with Seonghwa, who had me pinned between himself and the wall, holding the side of my neck firmly with his right hand as his left one gripped my hip, fingers digging into the fabric of my uniform. His eyes were open and glaring at me despite his heated kiss, and it only made me flush more as I felt his tongue force itself between my lips while his fingers sneaked up towards my jaw, tilting my head up as he had to lean down, just slightly, due to our height difference. My heart hammered against my ribcage as the satchel bag fell from my shoulder, landing with a loud thud as I gripped his robe’s collar, the fabric a lot softer than mine. Seonghwa’s tongue lapped at mine fiercely, stealing my breath away as I felt his hand slip from my hip, trace the inside of my thigh as it slowly slipped underneath my knee-length skirt. I gasped and gently pushed him back, breathing hard as his right hand held my nape, fingernails pressing into my frail skin, “Seonghwa—”

“Did you have fun flirting with Riddle right in front of me?” His tone was harsh, voice raspier than usual, and I gulped, his hand slipping higher up underneath my skirt.

“Seonghwa, I wasn’t flirting with him.” My voice trembled as he leaned closer again, lips tracing the skin of my neck, feather-like, making goosebumps erupt all over my skin. My hands released the collar of his robe as they slipped higher up, circling his neck as my fingers got tangled in the wavy strands of his hair, “I’ve told you so many times that I’m not interested in him—”

“Well, you certainly don’t act like it.” I gasped as his sharp teeth sunk into the skin of my neck, making my stomach coil as his other hand stopped at my groin, caressing my flesh through my stockings, “I’m sick of seeing him prance around you like a lost puppy, my love.”

“He’s just a boy.” My eyebrows furrowed as Seonghwa’s head snapped up, a sneer on his face.

“Just a boy?” He scoffed and leaned incredibly close, lips brushing against mine as he spoke, “He’s barely one year younger than us, Y/N.”

Sighing loudly, I pressed a chaste kiss against his lips, seeing his eyes shake for a second, his anger dissipating slightly, “Yet I only see the little boy I guided to the Slytherin common room in his first year in him, my love, he’s nothing but like a brother to me.”

“He has no boundaries.” Seonghwa huffed, jaw clenching and unclenching as I kissed his cheek, right side and then left side, then pulled him slightly lower to kiss his forehead too. Seonghwa’s grip visibly softened, his finger rubbing circles into my hipbone under my skirt.

“I know how to put him in his place if he ever goes too far, which he has never done before.” I muttered reassuringly as I ran my fingers through his hair gently, knowing that he loved the ministration, “Abraxas is touchier than Tom will ever be, yet you make no scene when he’s with me.”

Seonghwa scoffed, gripping my chin as he tilted my head up again, “Because it’s clear he’s not interested in courting you, he’s touchy with everyone.”

I chuckled as I coaxed his lips towards mine, my eyes fluttering closed as Seonghwa’s lips gently, but firmly, pressed against mine, our lips playing a gentle dance as they moved at a calmer pace, following the other’s rhythm as I let Seonghwa take the lead, our lips slotting perfectly against each other. His breath hit my face as he nipped at my bottom lip, enjoying the way my lips chased after his again, capturing his bottom lip between mine as I felt his hand very slowly slip towards my crotch. I keened, pushing him back by the shoulders when he had started rubbing circles against my clothed core, “I need to get to the greenhouse, Hwa, we can’t do this now.”

“You can skip Herbology,” Seonghwa whispered as his lips brushed against my ear, I bit my bottom lip, eyes fluttering closed, “it’s not that important.”

Before I could succumb to the feeling of Seonghwa’s fingers teasing me, I gripped his wrist and pushed his hand away, blinking my eyes open, “I’m not going to skip classes because you want to have sex, Seonghwa. You can wait until tonight.”

“Yeah?” He grinned, round eyes glinting dangerously, “I can?”

“Unless you want to throw another jealous fit over the fact that I’ll be studying with Tom later on.” I mused and pursed my lips as Seonghwa’s expression hardened again. He was so easy to irk, his face hid nothing as I cocked an eyebrow in challenge at him.

“Right,” He muttered, clearing his throat, “You’ll be busy with Riddle this afternoon—”

“I’ll be busy perfecting my Legilimency, yes.” I raised my eyebrows at Seonghwa as he hummed and stepped back, detaching himself fully from me. I licked at my lips and ran my hands through my hair, trying to get rid of any knots that may have formed.

“Find me after you’re done patrolling, then,” Seonghwa adjusted his tie and then patted down his robe, “I won’t be coming to dinner tonight.”

“Something wrong?” I asked with furrowing eyebrows as I leaned down to pick up my satchel bag.

“No, I just need to catch up on some assignments, is all.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I didn’t say anything as he caressed my cheek with his warm hand, “I love you.”

I smiled widely, turning my head lightly to press a kiss against his wrist, “I love you too, Hwa.”

Despite the sun trying to shine some light on the dire streets of London, the ever-grey clouds were everlasting, casting a gloomy shadow over the streets and the people that ventured outside. Lately, it seemed to be safer to go out and enjoy the much-needed social interactions, but people were still wary of the imminent threat posing over their heads. You just never knew when the enemy would strike, making you look over your shoulder at any given moment. London wasn’t anymore what it used to be, but reconstructions have started and there seemed to be light at the end of the permeating dark tunnel.

My coffee’s steam reached my nose as I forgot of its existence, my eyes having fallen on two children who had their palms out and were timidly asking for money from the passerby people. My heart broke at the sight of such innocent lives having to suffer so much, unwanted scenarios clouding my mind. They could’ve lost their parents, or maybe they still had them, but the war made them homeless and this is was the best they could do. I hated how most people didn’t even cast a glance at the obviously suffering children, their clothes strewn in places, cheeks dirty with dust. They clung to each other, the boy taller by a head as he clutched the younger girl to his side, pulling her back when a postman paid them no mind as he barrelled down with his bicycle on the pavement. But before my anger could get the best of me, the bell to the small coffee shop chimed, and I looked over, heart settling at the familiarity of the man that was approaching my table. He wasn’t a coffee lover, not when we were mere teenagers, so I had ordered tea instead for him.

“Mr. Kim.” I smiled as I abandoned my cup and pushed my chair back, fighting the wide smile that tried to make it onto my lips. Kim Hongjoong and I haven’t been close during our days at Hogwarts, but due to a person that was present in both of our lives, we had the chance to share some fond memories. Hongjoong had always been a free spirit, unafraid to break rules here and there, trying to break free of the chains society placed on all of us. Even now, his hair was brushed back in an uncharacteristic way, the black ends tinged almost blonde. His clothes didn’t match in colour, his pants burgundy and his shirt a rather atrocious colour of yellow, the grey sweater thrown over it saving the outfit somewhat. His green coat was dark, and due to the colour of his pants, it made him look like a Christmas tree.

“Dear,” Hongjoong chuckled, his hug warm and comforting, arms circling my middle tightly, “are we back to being formal with each other now? Has it been that long since we left Hogwarts?”

I chuckled, arms tightening around him subconsciously as my chin pressed against his shoulder, eyes glazing over with sudden tears that took me off guard. I have missed the faces I have become familiar with at Hogwarts, the place where I was still innocent and in love with life, with the prospect of a bright future. A future that was now my present, neither bright nor innocent. I have never had many friends, keen on keeping to myself, and the life of an Auror made it hard to keep up with others. It was better for them; my field of work had no guarantee of me returning alive. And knowing that two of the people I considered my family, Mingi and Yunho, were first in line in harm’s way, made me prolong my hug with Hongjoong. It felt nice to be in a warm embrace for once.

“Four years and three months, more specifically.” I whispered as I reluctantly let go of Hongjoong, who gripped my bicep and gave it a reassuring squeeze before we both claimed our seats at the small round table.

“So, you’ve been counting,” Hongjoong muttered, looking down at his steaming hot tea, “as have I.”

I hummed, feeling a certain sad aura around Hongjoong as he carefully cradled the teacup in his hands, humming to himself as my eyes bore into the side of his head. I was curious of what was running through his mind, but entering it without his consent was a breech of privacy and the break of trust between the two of us. Picking his fragile mind apart would’ve been very easy. Finding what I was looking for would’ve taken only a few seconds and I could be on my merry way in no time, hunting down the man I was tasked to take out, but I was yearning for just a second of normalcy, for a second that could take me back to the past where I was happy, unafraid, in love.

“How is the Auror life, dear?” I smiled at the nickname, Hongjoong being the only person who’s ever addressed me so affectionately—besides my former lover, Seonghwa.

“Dangerous,” I sighed, raising my cup of coffee to take a small sip, “exhausting, and time consuming.”

“I’ve had to treat many Aurors since I’ve started working at St. Mungo’s, and each time I pray I do not come across you, dear.” Hongjoong’s expression was solemn, as if he was trying to repress memories that weren’t kind nor pleasant, “But you seem to be in great health, so I shall not worry so much anymore.”

I chuckled and placed the cup down, fingertips tracing the porcelain in order to keep my hands busy with something, “I’m rather agile, one of the best they have. But sometimes even I worry for my own safety, thank you for thinking of me so often, Hongjoongie.”

He smiled, reaching out to grab my wrist, “Sometimes I feel bad for the way things have ended between us—between the three of us, I mean.”

I gulped, the topic of Seonghwa inevitable anymore. But still, I tried to stall it for a little bit longer, trying to enjoy Hongjoong’s company for a little bit more before the real reason I was here would ruin our nostalgic reunion.

“Don’t fret on the past, Hongjoong, what’s lost is lost.” I gripped his hand with my right one, patting it gently, “How are the other nurses treating you at St. Mungo’s? I’ve heard there’s not many wizards working there.”

“The witches seem to love me,” Hongjoong chuckled, suddenly his cheeks red, “they praise me a lot and always fight on who gets to work with me. I’m treated nicely and they’ve accepted me rather quickly despite being a wizard.”

I gulped, knowing the tumultuous history of the Kim family, “And your parents?”

Hongjoong froze, eyebrows furrowing as he averted his eyes, “My mother is speaking to me again. My father…we know how he feels about me.”

“You’ve always done just fine without them,” I encouraged him, watching curiously as he grabbed my hand and flipped my palm upside down, “and if you need a friendly advice or just an evening spent drinking wine and reminiscing, you know were to find me, Hongjoongie.”

He chuckled, forefinger gingerly tracing the inside of my palm, making me shiver. It’s been long since someone had treated me so tenderly, ever since Yunho and Mingi have been sent onto their mission actually, “Have you cut yourself here?”

“Yes.” I answered surprised, “How did you know?”

“The skin is rougher here,” Hongjoong pressed his finger a little harder against where the cut was healed up, not even a trace of a scar, “Stop by St. Mungo’s when you have a little free time, I have the perfect potion to fix your skin. I’ve got quite the tricks up my sleeve now.”

As our eyes met, a beat of silence passed, then we both burst out in quiet giggles, pressing our hands against our mouths. Memories of all the failed potions made by Hongjoong resurfaced, most of those times Seonghwa or me being his test subjects. There were too few fingers on my hands to count the number of times Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and I had ended up in the Infirmary, on the brink of dying from dangerous toxins found in Hongjoong’s brews. And yet, we continued indulging in his shenanigans as he was too endearing to say ‘no’ to.

“I suppose you’ve stopped poisoning people now, right?” I raised an eyebrow, tone joking as Hongjoong bit his lower lip, cheeks flushing once again.

“No more failed experiments or potions that would send Slughorn up the wall if he were to know about them.” And once again, we started giggling behind our palms as Hongjoong seemed to finally loosen up, making me feel bad that I would soon deter the conversation to a delicate topic. But I didn’t have much time, I had to move fast if I wanted to catch Seonghwa when he least expected it.

“I suppose you meet all sorts of people at the hospital…” I trailed off as I grabbed my cup of coffee yet again and took a long sip, Hongjoong’s lips pursing as he traced the wooden design of the table.

“Yes, quite the personalities.” He mused, eyebrows raised slightly in question as I swallowed the coffee, biting my lower lip in hesitance.

“As a nurse your allegiances do not matter, you must save everyone—”

“That is correct.” Hongjoong’s tone had turned colder, his face losing its warm glow, a mask of indifference now replacing it. I sighed knowing that Hongjoong had probably caught on to where our conversation was headed now.

“I know you still keep in touch with Park Seonghwa.” I lowered my voice so nobody would hear us. Everyone knew who Grindelwald’s men were, I didn’t want to risk the chance of anyone overhearing our conversation, even if the coffee shop was only frequented by muggles. I chose this place for this specific reason, few wizards and witches ventured out into the heart of London, not keen of the life muggles lived here.

Hongjoong had frozen, jaw clenching as his cat-like eyes narrowed at me, “What does that have to do with me being a nurse at St. Mungo’s? Are you accusing me of something, Miss Song?”

I sighed, but I knew the jabbing was inevitable. Hongjoong had been very protective of Seonghwa even before our years at Hogwarts, “I am not accusing you of anything, I was just merely curious on who’s side you stand—”

“I stand on nobody’s side.” Hongjoong snapped, pushing his teacup far away from himself, glaring at it suspiciously. He must be wondering whether I had slipped Veritaserum in it, but I would never do that to him, “I stand on the side of the victims I must save, on the side of justice, and on the side that doesn’t harm but protects instead. Do you fathom there’s a side like that? One that does not harm, but only protects?”

“No.” I whispered, averting my eyes from Hongjoong’s intense gaze, visibly irritated, “We’re trying to do our best, I promise, but I cannot guarantee that innocent folk won’t be harmed in the process of stopping Grindelwald.”

“You’re just doing your job,” Hongjoong’s tone softened, “and so am I, and so is Seonghwa—”

“Seonghwa is killing innocent wizards and witches for a cause that is irrational, for a cause that aims to harm muggles that aren’t at fault for being the way that they are. This isn’t a job!” Hongjoong’s eyes widened as my voice gradually raised, never the type to lose my cool. My heart had started racing and I felt anxiety creeping up my chest, through my throat, making me chew on the inside of my cheeks. I scrapped at my hand, averting my eyes as Hongjoong’s stare became too much, making me feel like he was judging me. Maybe I have misjudged his character, maybe he is on Seonghwa’s side, after all.

“Y/N,” But his voice was soft and I felt his hand grip mine, gently stopping me from scratching my skin until it was raw and red, “I know how hard it was when you found out about Seonghwa’s ambitions and beliefs, and I know you still feel guilty and think you played a part in him becoming like this. But as someone who’s known him since he was a little boy, Seonghwa’s always dreamed of doing big things, of changing our world into the better. You couldn’t have stopped him even if you had known of his plans since early on—”

“Then help me.” I felt choked up as I looked at Hongjoong swiftly, eyes shaking as I gripped his hand. His eyebrows were furrowed and he gulped as my eyes glossed over, his words ringing through my ears. He was right, I have always felt guilty for not noticing the blatant signs of Seonghwa’s true beliefs. He’s never been kind to muggles at Hogwarts, he’s always made snide remarks about them, and he’s mentioned joining a cause one day that purified our Wizarding World. I thought he was simply aspiring to join the Ministry, like many others wanted. Instead, he decided to join the cause of a man who thought wizards were superior to muggles and wished to subdue them, and force them to live in fear for the rest of their lives, “I need to talk to Seonghwa, please tell me where he is. Hongjoongie, you’ll be helping a greater cause than yourself and even myself. I must find him and—”

“You’re an Auror, Y/N.” He cut me off sharply, yanking his hand out of my grip as he shook his head feverishly, “If you find him, then what? Will you interrogate him and lock him up in Azkaban for a few months until he gives in and admits to his mistakes? We both know that’s the last thing Seonghwa will do if he’s ever captured. You’ll kill him—”

“I won’t—”

“You’ll kill him, and I cannot set up my best friend for his death.” He snapped angrily, cheeks red as his eyes were tear-filled, “I cannot wrap my mind around the fact that you sought me out for such a feat. You should be ashamed of yourself, Miss Song, for even thinking that I would help you out with such an atrocious thing. I love Seonghwa more than anyone, you have deeply wounded me, Miss Song, I have expected more of you.”

“Hongjoong—” Heart breaking as he swiftly stood and left with a last piercing look, I slumped back in my chair and tried not to let the sob break through my lips, cheeks damp from the tears that fell down them. Yes, I have been a fool for seeking out Hongjoong, I knew he’d never give away Seonghwa’s location, but he was my first and last option in trying to find Seonghwa in a way that I could negotiate with him, try to deter him from his cause, save him from a harsh sentence. And I have failed, and now I’ll have to kill the man that I have never stopped loving.

Having lost my appetite for anything, I stood hastily and wore my dark coat, pulling on my gloves to protect my hands from the freezing air. I gathered my purse and clutched it tightly in my hands, storming out of the coffee shop as I felt around for my bonnet inside the purse. The heart of the city was buzzing with people as the hour was nearing noon, the loudness of it all irritating my ears as I tried to walk between the people to the closest Portkey leading to the Wizarding World. But just as I was about to cross the road, I felt a hesitant tug on my coat. Alarmed and ready to defend myself, I whirled around and searched for whoever had touched me, only to find the siblings looking up at me with pleading eyes. Tapping the tears off my cheeks quickly, I opened my purse and crouched down as I fetched the pastries I have bought earlier for breakfast.

“Have this,” I handed them to the little girl, who had a runny nose and whispered a ‘thank you’. I pushed around in search for the little muggle money I still had, and once I found it, I gave it to the boy who looked beyond grateful and even bowed his head in gratitude. Feeling helpless that I couldn’t do more for them, I grabbed the bonnet that I knew I wouldn’t wear again, and placed it onto the little girl’s head. It was big and it fell in her eyes, but she grinned as her brother tried to adjust it for her, making my heart swell, “Take care of each other.”

The two nodded with eyes glistening, and I gulped down the lump that’s formed in my throat and stood tall once again, hurrying away before I felt the overbearing need to break down in the middle of a muggle filled street. I would finish this mission even if I lost my life in the process of it, it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter because innocent children and innocent common folk were the one suffering the consequences of these tyrants that ruled over our worlds.

20th of December, 1943

Slughorn’s Christmas parties were catalogued somewhat legendary and, thus, have always been talked about in the hallways of Hogwarts. Those who were invited mentioned it in excited exclamations and those who weren’t in whispers with envious tones. I had been part of the lucky few who got invited, being part of Slughorn’s Slug Club for a good two years now, and I couldn’t have been happier. These parties were perfect for mingling with socialites and people of importance in the Ministry and other fields that piqued your interest. I had been lucky enough to meet a few well-known Aurors tonight, but my utmost luck struck when, despite his drunken state, Professor Slughorn pulled me aside to introduce me Theseus Scamander, the Head of the Auror Office. The professor had rambled on about my abilities and how talented and knowledgeable I was in the Dark Arts, painting me as a very talented duellist to Mr. Scamander. He had been eager to listen to his former professor, giving me knowing glances and a dashing smile. I couldn’t help but blush a little, the Fire Whiskey I had—secretly—drunk with Abraxas getting the best of me. Unable to hide his amused smile anymore, Theseus had excused us with the pretext that we’d head over to the delicious candy bar and serve ourselves with chocolate frogs, to which our professor couldn’t object as, he, himself loved it.

“He’s quite the talker, isn’t he?” Theseus laughed as he gently guided me through the crowd of students and outsiders, his hand holding my gloved elbow. My dress was modest, adorning the emerald green of my house that I wore proudly. The neckline was a sweetheart design, sleeveless, and the upper part of the dress was moulded tightly against my body, a silvery fabric creating the illusion of a belt around my waist. From the waist, it flowed down to my ankles in a simple A-line, highlighting my long legs. I had a thin, sheer, shawl around my shoulders—but I have abandoned that at the dinner table as it had started annoying me—and instead wore my silvery satin gloves that reached just above my elbows.

“He certainly let’s go of himself when alcohol is involved.” I said quietly, earning a chuckle from Theseus as we reached the candy bar. It was hard to choose just one delicacy as the table was littered with at least fifteen types of desserts, and I watched as Theseus grabbed a plate rather eagerly.

“I couldn’t wait for the annual Christmas party back when I was a student here,” Theseus said as he started placing different delicacies on his plate, “the dessert was the best part of the night—apart from the Fire Whiskey.”

He glanced at me briefly and winked cheekily, making me chuckle as I averted my eyes with a shy blush on my cheeks. He chose a rose shaped tart that was filled with marzipan, and it reminded me of Seonghwa as it was his favourite dessert. Wondering where he was—since he had disappeared around half an hour ago—I searched the crowd while Theseus was busy filling his plate.

“Is it you who wants to be an Auror, or are your professors pushing you towards this job?” Theseus’ question earned my attention as I looked back at him, unsuccessful in my mission of finding Seonghwa.

“It is me.” I answered with a smile, fiddling with my fingers nervously, “I hate injustice, and I hate seeing our world get torn apart as Grindelwald is trying to ruin us. I want to help in stopping him, I want to be a figure that others can entrust their lives to. I want to protect the innocent, and I am not scared to sacrifice myself for others. And when he’ll finally be stopped, I will continue dedicating my life to help the right cause.”

Theseus hummed, his eyes softening as they quickly took in my form, a pleased look crossing his features, “You sound quite determined, and you look tough too. I have spoken to Professor Merrythought about any student she deemed fit for the role of an Auror, and I am positive she talked about you for almost an hour, Miss Song.”

I gulped, feeling warmth spread through my chest in happiness that I had been praised so extensively by my professor to a very important and prominent person in the Ministry, “I’ve still got two years until I graduate, but I hope to join you as soon as possible.”

“I cannot wait for that day to come, Miss Song.” Theseus grinned, grabbing the rose dessert, “I can already tell you’ll be great; you sort of remind me of myself, actually.”

“I do?” I asked with a surprised tone, feeling my smile get even bigger.

“Indeed.” Theseus hummed and then took a bite of the rose as I tried to contain my glee, my mouth hurting from smiling so widely. Suddenly, there was a presence next to me, and I felt a hand gently grip my shoulder, the hold familiar but rather cold. I turned my head and was met with Tom’s piercing-blue cold eyes looking down at me impassively.

“Mr. Scamander.” He greeted the Auror with a tight smile on his lips.

“Mr. Riddle.” Theseus was in the middle of chewing his dessert, but he quickly forced it down his throat and shook Tom’s hand.

“Do you mind if I steal Miss Song for a dance?” Tom’s voice was suddenly light, dripping with sweetness as his face morphed into a warm smile, “Have I interrupted an important conversation?”

“I have said what I wanted to Miss Song, if she wishes so, you can steal her for a dance.” Theseus winked, our gazes meeting as suddenly his thoughts flooded my mind. For a powerful Auror like him, it took me off guard to find his mind so defenceless. Perhaps he didn’t see a reason to guard his thoughts in the confines of Hogwarts, and before I could correct him that there was nothing between Tom and myself—as Theseus’ thoughts claimed—I was already whirled around and guided towards the crowded dance floor. The orchestra played a nice tune, slow but not to the point all you could do was step left and right. Tom placed his hand on the middle of my back as he held my hand in his other one, a respectable distance between our bodies as he started leading.

“Any reason you wanted to dance with me?” I asked with narrowed eyes, knowing for a fact that Tom never danced. He hated dancing or standing as close to somebody as we were stood right now.

“Hmm,” He hummed, his tone low and his voice pleasant to the ears as he spoke up again, “you looked like you needed a little saving.”

“Speaking to Mr. Scamander was pleasant,” I shrugged, holding onto Tom’s shoulder tighter as we narrowly avoided a drunken couple, “You could’ve tried to save me when I was talking to Professor Slughorn and the spouses that work at St. Mungo’s, instead. They are weird.”

“They are peculiar people, indeed.” Tom muttered, eyes falling on my face, “But they are incredibly smart and good assets to a team.”

“What team?” I asked confused, eyebrows furrowing. Tom was leading us out of the crowded dance floor, thankfully, more towards the side where we’d have more space and wouldn’t have to avoid every second drunken couple. A platinum blonde hair popped up in the crowd not far from us, and I stifled a laugh as Abraxas tried not to topple over as he was led towards the exit by his date.

“Well,” Tom started, eyebrows lightly furrowing as he mused over his words, like he didn’t know how to formulate his next words. That was unexpected from Tom as he was a good speaker, and an intelligent person, “let’s put it this way. You build an army of people that are magically gifted, but smart too, and you lead them to victory.”

“Why would you need this army?” I asked as I grew even more confused, “Are you talking about Grindelwald?”

“We can take him as an example, yes.” Tom chuckled, a smirk pulling at his lips as our eyes bore into each other’s, making me wonder for a split second if he was hiding something from me, “The people he has on his side aren’t just strong and powerful wizards and witches who excel at magic, they are also intelligent and strategize with him, leading him towards victory—”

“You think Grindelwald will prosper in this war?” I asked, feeling myself irked at such vile thoughts. Grindelwald wouldn’t win, I would become an Auror just to make sure of it.

“No, of course not.” Tom whispered, an easy smile adorning his lips and I felt his fingers gently rub against my knuckles. I sighed and looked away, surveying the crowd in hopes that I would finally find my lover. I missed him, I wanted to be by his side and dance with him, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Of course.” I chuckled, but my eyes were still searching the crowd as Tom cleared his throat, turning us around so that I was facing the exit now. My eyes stopped on the familiar form of my lover, and my eyebrows furrowed in wonder as I realized Seonghwa was speaking to Rabastan Lestrange and his parents, “Are you?”

“I hate these events, actually, even the Slug Club, but if I wish to remain in the graces of our daft professor, I must—”

“I am really sorry for cutting you off like this, Tom.” I released my hold on Tom and took a step back, eyes hastily falling back on the Slytherin boy, “But I’ve finally found my lover, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Right,” Tom’s expression faltered, then returned to being cold as he nodded towards Seonghwa, “I’ll see you around. But, Y/N, did you know Park and Lestrange have been acquittances for quite a while now?”

My eyebrows furrowed as I bit my lower lip, wondering if Seonghwa had ever mention Lestrange to me, “Of course, there are no secrets between Seonghwa and I.”

I felt the slight prodding at my mind, but Tom got nowhere near my thoughts as I have carefully guarded them all night. I bowed my head slightly before I walked away from the dance floor, nearing my lover and the Lestrange family with a soft smile on my lips. Rabastan was the first one to notice me, and he loudly cleared his throat, eyes jumping between Seonghwa and my approaching form. Seonghwa stiffened and I tried to mask my confusion as I stood next to my lover, “Good evening.”

“Good evening, Miss…?” Rabastan’s father was a gruff man, scary-looking, and rather unfriendly as his voice was harsh.

“Song, Song Y/N.” I answered and offered him my hand before I greeted his wife, who looked stoic and glared at me viciously. But I remained unphased as I continued smiling.

“Song,” She muttered, eyes narrowing as she shared a glance with her husband, “your parents are quite prominent figures in the Ministry, aren’t they?”

“Yes.” I answered, not keen of talking about my parents. It was always about them, never about me. They’ve made their own reputation already, I wanted to make one for myself.

“Y/N is just as brilliant as her parents, if not more.” Seonghwa mused with a warm tone, lips pulled into a dashing smile as I felt his arm sneak around my middle and gently pull me into his side. My muscles softened as his familiar warmth and cologne embraced my being, making me look up at him with a small grin. Rabastan’s parents exchanged a glance as their son cleared his throat again, looking rather awkward.

“And you make a pair, I assume.” Rabastan’s father quirked an eyebrow, not looking very impressed by the prospect. Before I could answer, Seonghwa hummed lowly and I felt his fingers flex against my hips in a quiet request to remain silent. I bit my bottom lip, but adhered to his request.

“Yes, Miss Song and I had been quite the academic rivals, but I suppose in our fifth year we found common ground and discovered together we are more powerful, our knowledge forever expanding.” Seonghwa’s answer made my eyebrows furrow as I turned my head to look at him with a questioning gaze, but he continued looking at the Lestranges, who seemed pleased with his answer.

“Well, yes, she is a Slytherin like our son,” Rabastan’s mother said with a chuckle that was filled with vice, “but she might take after her parents, after all.”

Fed up with the cryptic conversation, I chuckled and flashed the Rabastans an apologetic smile before I cradled Seonghwa’s cheek in my hand and turned his head to face me, “May we dance? You’ve neglected me the whole night, my love.”

“My apologies,” Seonghwa hummed and kissed my wrist as I let my hand fall from his face, the two of us looking back at the Lestranges, “It was a pleasure talking to you and meeting you Mr. and Mrs. Lestrange, I shall see you around—hopefully.”

They nodded wordlessly as Rabastan bid us farewell, and I intertwined my fingers with Seonghwa’s as I led us back to the dance floor, the crowd a little more dispersed now than it has been when I was dancing with Tom. The orchestra now had started playing slow tunes, all the dancing couples swaying gently to the music. I sighed as I felt Seonghwa’s arms slip around my hips to pull me close in, my arms circling his shoulders as our bodies flushed together, my nerves and muscles easing at the familiar press of his body against mine. Seonghwa’s round eyes had a warm glow in them, his cherry-like lips pulled into a soft smile. I chuckled and fought the muscles in my body yearning to press a kiss against his lips, and instead let my eyes travel down to the early Christmas gift I had given him earlier this morning. Seonghwa and I would be going home tomorrow, meaning that we wouldn’t spend the holidays together like last year, when Hongjoong, his best friend, decided to stay at Hogwarts due to his horrible parents and Seonghwa and I decided to stay too, to keep him company. It was one of the best Christmases I have ever had.

My gift was something small, a thin silver chain necklace with a small star pendant hanging on it, representing the way I viewed Seonghwa. He was bright and beautiful, always glimmering in the darkness and guiding me through my hardships, helping me sparkle as bright as him. He was an inspiration and so easily lovable that sometimes I felt like I fell for him over and over again each day.

“I had no idea you knew Rabastan Lestrange?” I raised an eyebrow as Seonghwa sighed, our moves smooth as he twirled us around.

“Barely.” He muttered, dipping his head low, his breath fanning my face, “Did Professor Slughorn introduce you to Theseus Scamander? I saw you talking to him.”

“He did!” I beamed, Seonghwa’s eyes creasing as he smiled back at me, “I am so happy I met him tonight, he said he cannot wait for me to join the Auror’s Office.”

“Is that so?” Seonghwa hummed, making my eyebrows furrow in confusion. He didn’t look too eager, but he chuckled upon seeing my reaction, it didn’t sound amused, “With how eager Riddle was to whisk you away for a dance, I figured you couldn’t talk much to Mr. Scamander.”

“Seonghwa,” I sighed, interlacing my fingers around his neck as I tilted my head back, “can we not do this here? Can we just not talk about Tom for one second?”

“How can I not talk about Riddle when he’s openly trying to court my partner—”

“Seonghwa.” I snapped quietly as I didn’t want anyone to overhear our useless argument, “Tom hates every female that breaths around him withing a meter radius, can you please for the love of Merlin stop this nonsense?!”

“I cannot.” He hissed, eyes narrowing as our steps faltered, “You fail to see the issue at hand, Y/N, he hates every female but you. And I cannot stand that—”

“Why are you so jealous when I have never given you a reason to be?” I cut him off, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.

“Because you’re mine and I cannot fathom losing you, I just—”

“Park Seonghwa.” I sighed, cupping his cheeks as I shook my head at him, “You are the love of my life, I have never loved anyone before you and I will never love anyone else but you. I don’t want anyone else that isn’t you, and I will never do. You are my star and the reason I live for, and I trust you with my whole being and have given all of myself to you. Sometimes—I just wish you trusted me as much as I trust you. When you act like this, you make me feel guilty and bad, like I don’t deserve your love and you.”

Seonghwa’s bottom lip was between his teeth and he released a long sigh as his hands sneaked back to grip my hips, “Only Merlin know how much I love you, Y/N, how much faith I have in you, and just how much I trust you. It’s this irrational fear that I will lose you if I make a wrong move that makes me act like this. I don’t even care about Riddle—or anyone else—if I have one fear, it’s that of losing the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I might be your star, but a star cannot shine without darkness. I need you, promise me you’ll stay by my side no matter what.”

“I promise to forever stay by your side, Hwa.”

Hongjoong was a good friend to Seonghwa, righteous, and ferociously protective. But even Hongjoong could tell apart right from wrong, unlike Seonghwa. And when I had gotten home after meeting him at the coffee shop, in the haste of searching for my yellow bottle of pills as my hands had started trembling once again, I found a small rolled up paper nestled between the white tablets. Eager to swallow the sedatives, I held the paper carefully, and after downing two tablets, I unrolled the paper, eyebrows furrowing when I realized it was an address to a fancy place in high-end London, where socialites mingled to their hearts wishes—both muggles, wizards, and witches alike. Hongjoong would never help me in taking down his best friend, but he also knew I was offering his best friend the easy way out this time. I would let him flee if he promises to never show himself around Grindelwald—I would do that because it’s Seonghwa. Because I cannot imagine a life without him even if he’s not by my side, just the thought of knowing he’s out there breathing and living keeps me going.

The casino Hongjoong had given me the address of was fancy and elite, only those who had an invite could enter. But I had connections, getting in was the easiest part. And perhaps, feeling nostalgic after having seen Hongjoong, I yearned to see more familiar faces that reminded me of my innocent childhood, familiar faces that could help me forget that I haven’t heard from Mingi and Yunho in a week. They were alive, that much we knew, but we had no idea if they had been discovered or injured, or if they have gone low-key in order to have even fewer chances of compromising their mission. Nonetheless, when I sent an owl to an old-time friend, I did not expect to receive an answer this eager, at least not from this particular person. Having taken my time to tidy up and make myself presentable, I slipped my bottle of pills inside my purse, knowing that there were great chances I would be seeing Seonghwa tonight—that was the whole point of me going to the casino. I was restless all day long and I had probably already taken too many of them, but the tremors of my hands never once stopped, and I could feel my heart race all day long. It was unsettling, but I knew there was nothing more I could do about it but slip the bottle in my purse and pray to Merlin for a successful mission. If I managed to get Seonghwa on my side tonight, much would change—the war would change.

There was a light smog in the air of London as I neared the casino, the evening breeze pleasant for once as the cobblestones were slippery from the previous rain. There was a light drizzle in the air still, but the invisible shield I had casted around myself to protect me from it was doing its job fairly well to keep me dry. My fur coat kept me warm as the nature of my dress was more daring tonight, attention grabbing on purpose. As I neared the entrance of the casino, lit up brightly and bustling with ladies and gentlemen that had bright smiles on their faces, I noticed a tall figure looming to the side in the darker corner of the street. Heartbeat halting, I hurried my steps as I clutched the invitation tighter in my hands, eager to see the man’s face from up-close. It’s been a few years since we’ve seen each other, I didn’t think he’d actually join me tonight. I knew he had his own ambitions, what those were exactly, I couldn’t tell. He’s always been secretive, but he’s made quite the reputation for himself after finishing Hogwarts. He was a young promising man, eager to chase after his desires.

“Miss Song!” His voice had gotten deeper over the years, but remained as velvety as always. My lips pulled into a smile as I was finally close enough to see his face clearly, and I was taken aback by the obvious changes the years have brought to his once youthful face. His eyes were still as bright and blue, perhaps even icier than they used to be, but his cheekbones had become hollower, skin ashier. He looked good, but he looked ghastly.

“Mr. Riddle.” I came to a stop in front of him with a big smile on my face, and was taken aback by the arms that have wrapped around me in a hug. Tom had always hated physical contact, I wondered if the passing of years had changed that, “You’ve changed. A lot.”

“Hopefully in a good way.” He chuckled as he released me, smirking dashingly at me. I would be lying if I said my heart didn’t skip a beat. I chuckled and shook my head, taking in his even taller, but lanky, form.

“I suppose yes,” I hummed, realizing that there were no traces of the young boy I have once viewed as perhaps my little brother, “You’ve grown taller, I didn’t think that was possible.”

Tom and I chuckled at the same time as he reached out again, squeezing my lower arm, “And you look stronger than ever.”

I hummed and tried to hide the way my tremors only worsened at his words, wanting to tell him that I was on the brink of falling apart every day. I wasn’t strong, I was far from being strong, I just refused to give in to the darkness until I have fulfilled my purpose, then I could finally let go. Give in to whatever madness threatened to pull my thoughts to an everlasting field of blackness, the stars absent from the night sky. Stars that have long abandoned me, left me alone to fend for myself, to figure things out without a guiding light.

“Let’s head inside, I’m beginning to feel cold.” I muttered as Tom hummed, offering his arm for me to take as he confidently waltzed us towards the entrance, the bouncer smiling at us pleasantly as I handed over our invitation. It seems that he already knew Tom, who, it turns out, frequents this casino rather often. The question was on the tip of my tongue, whether he sees Seonghwa here often or not, but I didn’t want to know. It was better not to know. I couldn’t start questioning Tom’s morality right now, I had to stay focused on the task at hand, which was finding Seonghwa and trying to coerce him onto my side.

The place was buzzing with all sorts of people, all seemingly eager to socialize and make lasting connections. The interior of the casino was vast and covered in red and black décor, giving it a sultry but eloquent touch. We had barely walked in when our coats and purses were taken to a garderobe for safe keeping. And before Tom could explain much about the place and the type of events that were held here, we were swarmed by quite a few wizards and witches, all very keen of talking to Tom, of holding his attention for more than five minutes. It seems like that hasn’t changed since Hogwarts.

I remained by his side and smiled, only spoke up when I was addressed to as I was too busy searching the room—the crowd—for the familiar face that I was here in the first place. I had opted to wear a long-sleeved dress as it was still cold outside, the velvet fabric feeling soft against my skin, keeping me perhaps too warm inside the parched room. The neckline of it was a deeper cut, just shy of stopping at the swell of my breasts, and I had decorated my long neck with emeralds that glinted prettily under the light. The dress was long, I had to be careful not to step on it with the heel of my high heels, and it was a poison green, tricky as under the light it glimmered green, however, otherwise it appeared black. I had pulled my hair away from my face and curled the strands, letting them fall free against my back as simple emerald earrings decorated my ears.

I was itching to hold onto something as I tried not to fidget with my hands, preferably to feel the comforting weight of the bottle of pills, but as they were hidden away in my purse, the only reassurance that I wasn’t completely defenceless lay hidden under my long dress, strapped against my shin was my wand. Over the years, I have learned to excel in wandless magic completely, but just knowing that I had my wand on me helped ease my nervous heartbeat. My eyes never stopped surveying the crowd, waiting to spot those round eyes and cherry-red lips.

“Aren’t you the Songs’ daughter, my dear?” I felt a lady gently touch my arm in order to grab my attention, and I averted my eyes from the back of a man who seemed to have a form similar to Seonghwa’s.

“I am.” I answered the older lady with a pleasant smile, trying to seem cordial despite my nerves.

“Oh, you are gorgeous.” She whispered, fingering the velvet sleeve of my dress, lips pursed, “You were a Slytherin, yes?”

“Yes.” I hummed, glancing side ways at Tom, wondering whether he could save me from this stranger, but he was busy speaking to who seemed to be the lady’s husband, “Does that matter?”

“Well, Slytherins are highly regarded in our society, we are prestige, you know?” The old lady smirked, and I gently pulled my hands behind my back, feeling uncomfortable that she wouldn’t stop touching my dress.

“I wouldn’t call ourselves prestige when most from our house turn towards the usage of the Dark Arts in inconvenient and illegal ways.” I grumbled, trying to hide my distaste as the older lady chuckled, eyes narrowing at me.

“So, you seem to share your parents’ beliefs, after all.” I heaved a long sigh, looking at the lady with a pressing glare. It was always about my parents, about sharing their beliefs. I was fed up with hearing that over and over again. What did people expect of me? To follow the ‘path’ of other Slytherins and join dark causes? Why did everyone have prejudices of us? And most of all, why did everyone assume all Slytherins were evil and would turn against what was right to do?

“My parents are mighty people and proud of their legacy.” My voice was harsh as I squared my shoulders back, the older lady’s eyes slightly widened, “My mother was a Hufflepuff and she raised me with compassion and fierce love that taught me how to differentiate wrong from right. My father was a Ravenclaw that is beyond wise his years and values knowledge above anything else, he taught me that there is no reason to live if you don’t learn constantly, if you don’t find a passion that you excel in. Excuse me if I find no joy in slaying those innocents around me, if I don’t enjoy tea parties organized to discuss who would and who wouldn’t live another day. You, and everyone else, should know basic human decency and stop playing the Gods you’ll never be. I am Slytherin proud of my heritage, and Merlin be damned if I let another one look down on me because of my parents, who have achieved things far beyond your capability in this fragile life that we live. So, if you happen to have a problem with me, or the fact that I am a Song, please, speak to be bluntly and not in riddles.”

The older lady’s mouth hung open in shock, and we have earned the attention of Tom and the man he was talking to, the two looking just as taken aback as the lady. Well, Tom didn’t look that much surprised, his frown told me of his distaste towards my words, and the swift glare sent my way signalled to me to shut up. But I didn’t want to, my nerves were on a high and if one more person mentions my parents and the fact that I am the ‘Songs’ daughter’, I shall repeat my speech proud and loud for the whole room to hear. It wasn’t hard to guess that it was infested with Grindelwald’s people, and my stomach churned as I felt Tom’s fingers sneak around my wrist, holding it so firmly I almost winced in pain.

“She’s opiniated.” Is what the old man said at last, eyes narrowed as he pulled his wife closer into his side, “Is this who you’ve looked up to at Hogwarts? The woman you’ve mentioned before?”

My breath stilled as I looked at Tom confused, feeling suddenly uncomfortable as I tried to untangle his fingers from my wrist but he wasn’t letting go. Was Seonghwa right all along? Was Tom trying to veer me away from Seonghwa while we were at Hogwarts? Had I been actually blind to Tom’s advances? But that mustn’t have been possible, I’ve heard Tom say multiple times that he wasn’t capable of feeling love for anyone, nor was he interested in maintaining any relationships, not even friendships.

“I apologize for her harsh words,” Tom bowed his head humbly, making my eyebrows furrow, “in her field of work she must be blunt and unfiltered, sometimes that slips into her everyday life too.”

I grit my teeth, but remained silent as the older man chuckled, eyes twinkling as he took me in. My face was a mask of impassiveness despite the urge to jinx both him and his wife. Deciding that I didn’t want to partake in this wretched conversation anymore, I turned my head and allowed my eyes to survey the crowd again. I heard Tom’s voice, but I paid no mind to what words were said. I knew the older couple walked away with a laugh on their lips, and I felt Tom’s eyes piercing the side of my head, but I was frozen. My tremors returned in the worst way, making my arms tremble as I tried to gulp but my throat felt dry, eyes glassing over the longer I looked at the familiar, yet so foreign face of my once lover. He was far from us, in the heart of the crowd as he tipped his head back, lips pulled into a charming smile as he laughed. The sound was swallowed by the cacophony created by the conversing people and the playing orchestra, yet I could hear its warm timbre as if he were right next to me.

He had also changed, became less boyish looking and turned sharper in angles he didn’t have before. His jaw was sharp and his nose tall, his round eyes void of the softness I was so used to receiving from him. His cheekbones were more defined than before, his cheeks having lost the baby fat I so loved pinching, and his black hair was longer than I have ever seen it before, framing his face, falling onto his forehead as his bangs were styled carefully. Gone were his wild curls that he always struggled to keep in one place. Park Seonghwa has changed since the last time I’ve seen him, and I was afraid I couldn’t recognize him anymore. Had Grindelwald stolen away even the last remnants of my lover?

“I can’t breathe.” I croaked out as I held onto my middle, my muscles so tense I was in pain as I tried not to double over and empty the contents of my stomach. I needed my pills, I had to take them before I would cause a scene. Suddenly, as Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed and his eyes turned sharp, vigilante, and found mine, Tom obscured my view of him, eyebrows furrowed in concern, yet I couldn’t actually see the concern in his eyes, or on his face.

“Let’s head over to the bar,” He said quietly, grabbing my hand and stopping the absent-minded scratching I had started doing, “water will do you good.”

I hummed, unable to will my legs to move, and felt thankful when Tom gently coerced me towards the bar, nestling my arm in his as he pulled me into his side, his cologne foreign. There was nothing comforting about his presence, unlike how Hongjoong’s had been, and I struggled to regulate my breathing and frantic heartbeats, telling myself that I was here on a mission and that I had to place aside any feelings I felt towards Seonghwa. I couldn’t compromise my mission this way, I was here to offer Seonghwa a way out. If I wasn’t able to keep it together for just one night, then why was I even here?

Too wrapped up in my mind, I didn’t hear Tom speak to the bartender, nor did I see the glass of water that was placed in front of me until Tom poked my trembling hands and pushed the glass towards me. I quickly took it and gulped down the cool water in a few sips, thankful that the ache in my throat was finally soothed. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I placed the glass back onto the surface of the bar, willing my muscles to loosen up as I licked my lips, Tom’s pressing stare becoming irritating. I exhaled slowly and opened my eyes, glancing over to Tom, voice raspy as I spoke up, “Thank you.”

“I’m here for you.” Tom muttered, grabbing my hand and making the hairs stand on my arms as I didn’t want to be touched. But I said nothing as I gulped and nodded once, focusing on my trembling hands as I knew Tom had noticed them, his eyes straying towards them. If only I could fetch my purse to take just one pill, it would help a lot right now. I sighed and had started pulling my hand away from Tom’s just as a person appeared right next to Tom, lean body leaning against the bar as his eyes were cold, narrow, and piercing.

“Good evening.” He spoke up upon making eye contact with me, and I forgot how to breathe all over again, “Miss Song, Mr. Riddle.”

“Mr. Park.” My voice was a mere whisper as our eyes bore into each other, mine desperately searching for a semblance of the man I used to love. But it was gone, innocence and youth long ripped from him, now only a shell of the dorky and geeky boy that used to recite poems to me that he found in muggle books. It broke my heart; it made me mad—it made my hands tremble even worse.

“Oh, and who are these?” A very thick accented female voice spoke up, her dark red lips pulled into a pleasant and friendly smile as her eyes rivalled Tom’s blueness. I gulped, eyes straying from her onto Seonghwa as he looked down at her, his expression softening as he placed an arm around her middle. I didn’t allow myself to feel anything upon seeing that as my eyes snapped back up to Seonghwa’s face, waiting for his next move.

“Old acquittances from Hogwarts.” He said easily, flashing the woman a quick fake smile, “This is Rhaena, she went to Beauxbatons.”

“Pleased to meet you!” Her French accent was irritating as she extended her hand to shake, eyes stalling on Tom for a second too long. I bit the insides of my cheeks, trying to reign in my scowl as Tom elegantly pressed a kiss against her knuckles, smirking at her with a charming gaze.

“My name is Song Y/N.” I introduced myself confidently once it was my turn to shake her hand, my handshake firm and perhaps too strong as Rhaena winced while my eyes landed on Seonghwa, my own lips pulling into an unamused smirk, “I must admit being introduced as mere acquittances leaves me with a distaste I didn’t think I’d harbour towards you, Mr. Park.”

Tom laughed loudly, watching Seonghwa with a challenging look as Rhaena turned and looked back at him with a quirk to her eyebrow, “My memories must be murky, my apologies, it’s been long since we’ve last seen each other, Miss Song. But I see you continue entertaining your old admirers—”

“Admirer is a strong word,” Tom cut him off with a chuckle, but it was far from being friendly as he glared at Seonghwa, “I merely admire Miss Song’s working etiquette, always have, ever since our time at Hogwarts, I suppose. Is it such a crime to look up to a strong, ambitious, and independent woman?”

I could see the spark of interest in Rhaena’s eyes the longer Tom talked, and it irked me. If she was with Seonghwa, why was she so openly interested in other men? Did Seonghwa not see? Did he not care? Seonghwa deserved better than a woman who couldn’t remain loyal to him.

“Ambitious with foolish ideas—” Before Seonghwa could finish his jab and break my heart more than it was already, Rhaena interjected, smiling widely at Tom. I knew he wasn’t interested in her, but it was scary how well he played his act of looking interested in the eager woman.

“I have always loved a man who is able to recognize the power his partner holds and worship her like a queen.” Rhaena’s lips pulled into a suggestive smirk as she licked her lips, eyes raking over Tom’s body, making me feel uncomfortable as I eyed the two. Tom chuckled under his breath but I noticed the way his jaw clenched and unclenched.

“You’re too daring for me, Miss Rhaena.” Tom settled with saying, making the French woman pout as she suddenly pressed herself to Seonghwa’s side, who was glaring at Tom’s blatant rejection.

“And Miss Song isn’t?” Seonghwa’s lips pulled into a vicious smile, face contorting into something sinister as he continued with an air of insignificance, “After all, Aurors take great pride in their work and never place anyone above themselves.”

“Miss Song knows the distinction between her personal life and her work.” Tom snapped back, grabbing the sleeve of my dress when I started shuffling on my feet, feeling uncomfortable by the exchange. I felt a little prodding in my mind and as I glanced at Tom, he was already looking at me with a frown. I nonverbally reassured him that I was okay, and finally admitted to him that I was here on a mission. He understood quickly and didn’t ask questions, only stated that he’d help me with whatever.

“So, you two are married, then? Rhaena kept on antagonizing us as our telepathic conversation was broken, and my eyebrows furrowed as I scoffed.

“Tom is an old friend that I have always been fond of, are you married to Seonghwa?” Perhaps my tone was too snappy, perhaps my words gave away too much. I gulped, realizing that my emotions were getting the best of me, making me ponder again whether I should just go ask for my purse to take another pill. Things were going horribly; this isn’t what I had planned for the night.

“No.” It was Seonghwa who answered, voice deep and laced with anger, “What are you doing here, Miss Song? I haven’t seen you at the casino before.”

“I’m here to accompany Tom as he’s told me he’s been feeling rather lonely on his visits to the casino.” I plastered on a fake smile, levelling my voice so that they wouldn’t be able to tell that I was lying. Even Tom seemed to be surprised as he hummed next to me in confirmation of said lie, tilting his head as he looked at Seonghwa challengingly, “It’s a nice break from my work that you seem to know so much of, Mr. Park.”

But Rhaena seemed to be stuck on a different part of the conversation, “Mr. Riddle, would you like to be my first dance partner of the night?”

I stiffened as Tom chuckled, giving me a quick glance before he nodded and extended his hand for Rhaena to take. She batted her eyelashes at him and pursed her lips as she waved at Seonghwa, walking off with Tom towards the dance floor. I gulped, eyes stuck onto them as I subconsciously started rubbing my left hand, nails digging into my skin painfully, scratching the skin as it left marks. My heart had started hammering against my chest, and I couldn’t face Seonghwa as I felt his piercing gaze bore into the side of my head. I knew why I was here; I knew what I wanted to say to him, but his hostile attitude wasn’t something I had expected, and now I felt like I needed to rethink and reformulate everything I had wanted to say to him.

Jumping at the sudden warm touch against my hand, I faced Seonghwa with wide eyes as he squeezed my fingers, stopping me from scratching my skin up more. My eyebrows furrowed as my hand tingled, leaving my throat dry once again as Seonghwa’s expression was blank, his round eyes having lost their beautiful and warm glimmer.

“Will you dance with me?” His voice was quiet, tone almost dejected, and I gulped as I nodded wordlessly. He didn’t release my hand, instead, he intertwined his fingers with mine as he led the way towards the dancing crowd, making my insides churn at the familiar feel of his larger palm pressing against my small one.

For a second, I felt like a teenager back at Hogwarts, dancing with Seonghwa under the moonlight to a melody that he so often hummed. But the bodies that nearly collided into mine did a good job of helping me repress the memory to stay level-headed, and instead, I straightened my back and finally remembered what I was taught when I was training to become an Auror. The mission was my number one priority now, and so, I repressed all emotions and slipped a neutral expression onto my face as Seonghwa stopped in the middle of the crowd and turned around to face me. He raised our intertwined hands and yanked me towards himself, taking me off guard as I stumbled into his body. He swiftly grabbed onto my hip and I steadied myself as I held onto his shoulder, turning my head away to gaze over it as Seonghwa’s eyes landed on my face. My heart was hammering against my ribcage, skin burning everywhere it touched Seonghwa’s.

It felt familiar being in his hold, warm and comforting, yet his body was tense and on-alert. Seonghwa was a smart man, he knew if I was here, other Aurors might be too, he was on the look-out in case he needed to flee. My body was tense too, but for different reasons. I was trying not to give in to the yearning of my consciousness after the warm body that I knew so well, the embrace that made me feel like the luckiest person on the planet, the lips that ignited my skin on fire wherever they touched. I have missed Seonghwa so much that sometimes I wondered if my impeding madness was imposed upon me by our separation.

“It’s unexpected seeing you here.” Seonghwa muttered carefully, voice void of the previous hostility. I gulped and nodded, having to agree with him.

“I was curious of this place.” That wasn’t a total lie, and Seonghwa could tell. I felt his finger graze against my knuckles, gently rubbing them, but I ignored it for my peace of mind—which I was already struggling with.

“And how do you like it?”

“It’s too pompous, fake, prestigious.”

“People are here to make beneficial connections, of course it’s fake.” Seonghwa’s voice had dropped low so that nobody but me would hear him. I hummed, licking my lips as I felt him pull me more into himself as we danced around in a small circle, his familiar cologne making my head spin. Even after all these years, he looked and felt like the Seonghwa I once fell in love with.

“Your hair is long now.” I had no idea why I said that but I couldn’t take it back now, and Seonghwa’s steps stuttered for a second, making me step on my dress.

“I’ve always liked it better like this,” He said once he cleared his throat, “I kept it short because my parents didn’t like it.”

“I know.” I whispered and closed my eyes, giving in to my body’s cravings as I felt Seonghwa’s hand slip lower, press firmly against my lower back as our bodies flushed together, making me let out a stuttered breath.

“And your parents, are they well?” I felt bile rise up in my throat upon the question that left his mouth. He knew about them, of course he did, it was his people who sent them into hiding. My parents had played an enormous part in discovering the identity of Grindelwald’s men and their hideout. Of course, they were being hunted by Grindelwald now. I wasn’t safe either, but I was an Auror now, a talented one, Grindelwald wouldn’t waste his time on somebody who could very well defend themselves against him and his army. At least, not yet. I’m sure my time will come too.

“You’re being a hypocrite right now, Seonghwa.” I snapped, hearing him heave a sigh.

“They’ve always been kind to me, I do not wish mal-intent towards them—”

“And towards others?” I snapped, eyebrows furrowed as I pulled my head back to be able to look him in the eyes, “Towards all the innocent lives Grindelwald has taken—you have taken?!”

Seonghwa gulped, jaw clenching as his eyes narrowed, “There’s nothing innocent about being oppressed and having to hide our true nature while those mudbloods continue living their lives carefree and in peace.”

“Mudbloods.” I whispered, shaking my head in disappointment at Seonghwa, “You’re a half-blood, Seonghwa—”

“Enough.” Seonghwa snapped, his grip on my hand turning just a little painful, “I do not want to hear whatever you have to say—”

“Well, that is hilarious, Seonghwa.” I chuckled humourless, eyes narrowing at him in annoyance, “You cannot silence me, you cannot tell me what to do.”

“I can silence you,” He gulped, eyebrows furrowing, “for forever, if I want to.”

I froze, feeling a chill run down my spine, and then I just chuckled. I raised my eyebrows at him, looking him in the eyes challengingly, “Like you’ve silenced all those unassuming folk living in those village you burned to a crisp?!”

Seonghwa’s face contorted in anger, his round eyes narrowing as they stared me down fiercely, a dangerous glint in them, “What had to be done was done. They refused to join our cause.”

“A cause that is wrong and harms others, Seonghwa.” My voice raised slightly as I had lost my patience, our faces leaning in close as we both breathed through our noses harshly, glaring down each other, “You’ve done so many atrocities that you’re afraid to face the repercussions, isn’t it? It’s still not late, Seonghwa, if you come with me tonight, I can make things less painful for you. I can convince the officials to lessen your sentence, I can make them reason with you. If you say you regret everything you’ve done and that you will strive to fix your mistake, they will—”

“I will never do that.” Seonghwa hissed and I felt his breath fan my face, “I stand by what I believe in, I stand by what I have done, Y/N. You are on the wrong side, and you all will pay.”

Body shaking from both anger and anxiety, I tried to inhale deeply and exhale, but my throat felt restricted, and the longer I remained in Seonghwa’s arms the more choked up I would feel. I needed to get away, to get away from the man that didn’t resemble my once lover. This wasn’t the Seonghwa I had fallen in love with, this was—a monster standing in front of me. I bit my lower lip, feeling them tremble as I tried to supress the desperate need to cry, I wouldn’t do it. Not here, not in front of him, not ever again. I have cried enough because of him.

Feeling unsafe and cold in his arms, I tried to detach myself from Seonghwa, but his hold only tightened as his eyebrows further furrowed, looking like he was fighting with himself, a turmoil going on inside his mind. My blood froze over when my eyes slipped from his face, falling onto the necklace that sat against his black shirt, sparkling underneath the dim lights. It was the star necklace I had gifted him. Shaking my head, I looked back up in his eyes, grabbing onto the collar of his vest as Seonghwa’s arms held me in a firm embrace, fingers pressing painfully so into my lower back, “Seonghwa.”

And when his eyes shook, I knew he had lost control over himself, over his emotions, over his mind. I felt my eyes fill with tears for breaking even the little trust that’s remained between the two of us as our eyes bled into each other, making it easy for me to push through his fragile mind’s barriers. It was frightening how dark his thoughts were, revolving around murder and strategies of taking down even more people, of converting even more wizards and witches for their ‘greater’ cause. It was terrifying how good of a manipulator Grindelwald was, the fatherly look in his eyes when he looked at Seonghwa, the praises that left his mouth addicting—the complete opposite of Seonghwa’s muggle father who would never understand our world. I felt a small resistance trying to build itself back up in his mind, but I was stronger—Tom’s lessons at Hogwarts had paid off, the Auror training only making my acquired skills stronger—and so, I pushed forward, searching for anything that would be of use for future purposes.

In my search, I stumbled past sleepless nights spent staring up at the ceiling, of tear-filled eyes and salty cheeks as a familiar man cradled Seonghwa to his chest, shushing him and reassuring him of a bright ending. I heard broken whispers of my name as he’d wake up in a cold sweat from a nightmare, of lustful touches that were turned down in a haste at last, and ear-piercing shouts that sent everything tumbling to the ground, shattering. And then, painfilled screams and pleas for mercy, people on their knees crying, mothers cradling their children to their chests as their houses burned down and—a piece of parchment that would’ve been blank if it wasn’t for the name of the town scribbled down on it, Grindelwald’s harsh voice commanding my once lover to make everyone perish, nobody spared. He didn’t need anyone on his side from that village, he wanted revenge. Revenge on my parents and on everyone who’s ever tried to mislead him and take him down. Mingi. Yunho.

Seonghwa and I gasped loudly as he finally managed to push me out of his mind, not that I wanted to see anything beyond this. I have seen everything I needed. I had to alert the aurors of the attack Grindelwald had planned on our hideout. My heart raced in fear for my loved ones, and suddenly, I became aware of the hands holding my arms painfully, making me hiss out in pain as I looked up at Seonghwa’s face, feeling my heart still as his eyes were filled with tears, shaking, mouth agape as he looked speechless. I knew he’d hate me for invading his mind without permission, but I had to do it. Our trust in each other has been long broken; I was doing this for the greater good. Seonghwa wouldn’t understand, but he didn’t have to. Despite being a monster, he did something good, he contributed to saving hundreds of lives by weakening his mental barrier.

“You-you—” His voice was shaky as his eyebrows furrowed, body starting to shake from anger, “how could you?!”

“You made me do this, Seonghwa.” I gulped, jumping when he grabbed my nape painfully so, yanking our heads so close to each other that our lips brushed together. I felt my knees grow weak, it would be so easy to press my lips against his now, to feel the soft and plush skin against mine, to devour him and taste him. He’s always felt like home, but would he still feel like it? “You gave me no choice, Seonghwa.”

He scoffed, sneering at me as I whimpered when his fingernails dug into the sensitive skin of my neck, “You’re a monster, they’ve turned you into a monster.”

“As they have with you.” I whispered, biting the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying, to keep myself from surrendering to Seonghwa completely. Seonghwa huffed, looking like he couldn’t believe what I have just said, eyes falling onto my lips as I tilted my head back, hands smoothing against his chest as my fingers ached from griping onto his vest so tightly. And my eyelashes threatened to flutter closed when Seonghwa angled his head just a little lower, his plump lips slotted perfectly against mine if one of us were to just tip our heads even the slightest forward.

But we were monsters to each other, the bogeyman of each other’s stories.

1943

I was close to finishing my patrolling duties, the Astronomy Tower my last stop before I could head back to the Slytherin common room and catch up on some much-needed sleep. Our examinations for the end of the year were nearing, more notedly, we only had one more week to catch up on every lesson before we’d be subjected to the long week of finals. It was stressful and I barely had any time for anything besides studying, so, much like others, I was cooped up in the library, scribbling down any necessary information that I might’ve missed during classes. Seonghwa and I only met up when we’d have breakfast, lunch, and dinner in the dining hall—unless one of us decided to skip due to not having studied enough that day. But that was alright, we both valued our studies and grades above all and, besides, we left little messages for each other in hidden places that we knew the other would patrol in the evenings after curfew.

The steps to the Astronomy Tower were steep and made of thick concrete, I pressed my palm against the stone wall for guidance and to feel safer as I was headed up to the tower. I had a slight fear of heights, which wasn’t too handy when I had to fly on a broom, hence why I never even considered playing Quidditch despite finding it cool and entertaining. Hongjoong could’ve probably brewed me a potion that made my fear halt but then again, I don’t know how smart it would have been to trust Hongjoong with even the simplest potions. He loved experimenting, and I had been on the receiving end of his failed brews one too many times. I am sure Madam Gorsemoor, herself, will banish me from this school if I turn up with an aching tummy to her Infirmary one more time.

I was panting by the time I reached the top of the stairs, all I had to do was round the corner and peek around it, then I could bolt back down to the Slytherin dormitories. However, just as I was about to do that, I heard hushed voices echoing around the stone walls. I couldn’t tell exactly what was being said as the voices were low, nonetheless, I did have to interrupt whatever was going on as I was a Prefect—I would even need to deduct house points if these were students and not professors. Squaring my shoulders and straightening my back to look more menacing than I actually was—with hopes of scaring off the students—I power-walked around the corner, only to freeze in the next second. Seonghwa stood leaning against the railing of the terrace, the wind howling loudly without the walls protecting us, and he was speaking to Rabastan Lestrange. My eyebrows furrowed as I noticed another figure sitting down, feet dangling over the ledge as he was leaned back on his hands, gazing up at the bright starry night sky, Hongjoong.

I didn’t understand what was happening, and I gulped as I carefully hid back around the corner, grateful that the three boys hadn’t noticed me. I peeked my head around the stone wall, still, and cast a wandless eavesdropping spell, Seonghwa and Rabastan’s voices suddenly tangible to my ears.

“So, what you’re saying is that your parents got everything ready for us?” Seonghwa’s usually warm voice lacked emotion now, and I could see that his eyebrows were slightly furrowed.

“Yes, all we have to do is give them the go.” Rabastan’s voice was harsh much like his father’s, and my eyebrows furrowed even more as I felt more confused than ever. What was this about and how did Seonghwa know Rabastan? What even was the purpose of this meeting after curfew? Was it worth it for Rabastan and Hongjoong to get caught and have house points reduced?

“But are you certain we’ve got enough people on the inside?” Seonghwa pressed on, sounding stressed, “Out of twenty-five people I have talked to, only ten wanted to join the cause.”

“Is he one of them?” Rabastan scoffed, tilting his head in Hongjoong’s direction as he remained ignorant of the two. I chewed on my bottom lip as Seonghwa glanced back at his best friend then shook his head slightly.

“Don’t worry about him,” Seonghwa muttered and Hongjoong gave him a lopsided smirk and a wink. Rabastan looked disgusted as he averted his eyes, glaring at Seonghwa now.

“If Grindelwald arrives and marches inside the school, we need to have enough students on his side to defend against the other fools, Park.” Rabastan hissed and my eyes widened, a tiny gasp slipping past my lips in shock, “He’s been planning this for way too long for you to mess it up—”

“And I have been planning alongside him just as much, Lestrange.” Seonghwa leered as he got all up in Rabastan’s face, his face contorted in anger. I had never seen Seonghwa look like that, I couldn’t believe this was real, that my Seonghwa was saying such things. What did he mean he’s been planning alongside him—alongside Grindelwald?! Was Seonghwa doing bad things behind my back? There had to be an explanation to all of this, this can only be a sick joke. Before I could react, Hongjoong tipped his head back, looking rather bored until we made eye contact. His eyes widened instantly and his mouth fell open as he struggled to scramble up as I shook my head at him ‘no’, but it was already too late.

“Seonghwa!” He hissed, and I watched as my lover looked over to his best friend with an irked expression on his face until he followed Hongjoong’s line of sight, our eyes meeting. I gasped, my heart racing in my chest as I whirled around and took off running, waving off the spell I had cast. I held onto the railing tightly as I tried to make my way fast down the stairs, struggling not to stumble and accidentally fall as I heard hurried footsteps echo behind me, laboured breaths leaving the person’s mouth. I didn’t dare look back to see who was following after me, but if they weren’t casting jinxes my way it meant that I was somewhat safe. At least as long as they didn’t reach the end of the staircase. The winding stairs seemed to suddenly never end as the wind howled in the distance the closer I got to the bottom, to the wooden door that was ajar as I had left it like that, the key to the door sitting in my pocket.

My lungs heaved for air as I finally reached the last stone step, letting go of the railing as I ran for the wooden door, screaming in fright when I felt a hand wrap around my bicep and yank me back before I could leave. I was whirled around and pushed against the door as I frantically tried to fight off the hands gripping my arms now.

“Y/N, it’s me.” The breathy voice was gentle, “My love, it’s Seonghwa.”

But that wasn’t comforting to hear anymore as my head snapped up, wide eyes staring at Seonghwa’s worried face. I gulped and gripped his forearms, pulling him closer towards me as our chests rose and fell quickly, “Explain.”

Seonghwa’s face blanched, skin paling as he gulped, his grip softening against my biceps, “I—what you heard isn’t—my love, let’s stay level-headed—”

“Is it true?” I snapped, jaw clenching as I couldn’t stand to hear him stutter, “What Lestrange has said, is it true, Seonghwa?!”

“Calm down first—”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” I screamed and fought his grip off, pushing him away from me. My hands had started trembling as I stared at him with disgust, trying to make sense of everything, “It is true?! Are you on-on Grindelwald’s side?!”

“Y/N,” Seonghwa froze, his expression suddenly faltering as he looked past me, at the wooden door, “Yes—Yes, I am.”

I felt my heart clench as tears flooded my eyes in an instant, and I was gripping Seonghwa’s shirt in a flash, yanking him down to be eye-level with me, “Tell me you’re lying. Look me in the eyes.”

Seonghwa’s jaw clenched and unclenched as he licked his lips, struggling to take a long breath as his eyes fell on my face, searching for something that he didn’t find as suddenly he looked resigned, “It’s not a lie, my love, I have chosen to support Grindelwald’s cause. We’ve been forced to suffer for too long, shunned into hiding while those creatures do as they please, while they live the lives we are supposed to live.”

I shuddered at his words and released him as if he had burned me, hugging my arms around my middle as I bit my bottom lip, a few tears having escaped my eyes, “You were there. At Lucy’s funeral, you were there, Seonghwa. She died because of Grindelwald. Her entire family—eradicated, burned down, because she was an innocent Muggle.”

Seonghwa’s eyes were filled with tears too as I had started crying now, hands shaking even more as I tried to wipe my cheeks dry, but the tears just kept flowing, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?!” I snapped, voice shaking from the betrayal I was feeling, from anger, and from feeling like my heart’s been ripped out, “How could you look me in the eyes every single day, touch me, when you’ve been going behind my back and plotting such atrocious thing, Seonghwa?!”

“I wanted to tell you but you—you—” I took a step back as Seonghwa tried to reach out for me, watching the hurt expression on his face due to my rejection, “I knew you’d react like this; I just couldn’t tell you. You’d—ruin our plans.”

It felt like a punch to the gut hearing the love of my life say those things and I laughed, body shaking in despair and pain that this is the side my lover had chosen. The man I thought I would marry one day, give children to, grow old with. Yet here he stood in front of me, with tears streaming down his face—an abomination, just a mere shell of what he used to be, “Your father is a muggle, Hwa.”

His jaw clenched and he swiftly wiped his tears off his cheeks, taking deep breaths to calm himself down, “And he’s never been good to me.”

I gulped as I closed my eyes and willed my muscles to ease up a bit so that I could move again. I brushed my hair back as I blinked my eyes open, a little blurry from the tears that still threatened to spill out, but I sucked it up and nodded, ignoring my heart that was crying out for my mind to stop, not to say the words that would leave my lips soon, “Goodbye, Mr. Park.”

“What?” Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed as I grabbed the door handle behind me and bowed my head respectfully.

“Finish your Prefect duties and go back to your dormitory.” My voice was devoid of any emotion as I yanked the wooden door open behind myself, mind numb and silent for once, “I shall do the same, I won’t report this to Headmaster Dippet just yet.”

“Y/N, what are you—”

“I believe it’s Miss Song to you, Mr. Park.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened as I stepped outside, hands trembling beyond normal as I had started feeling faint, “Y/N, no. No, you cannot leave me, I don’t—I cannot—please, Y/N, my love, please don’t. I cannot live without you, Y/N—”

The wooden door was loud as it slammed shut in my face, making my knees go weak as I tumbled to the floor, gasping for air as my whole chest felt on fire, tears wetting my cheeks before I could even try to stop them from escaping. The gut-wrenching sob that rippled through the hallway despite the wooden door that separated us made my skin crawl, my heart screaming at me to go back and take back everything I’d said to Seonghwa, but my mind knew what was right. My mind knew there was no further future for us, for Seonghwa.

He had chosen his path, and I have chosen mine.

Like many knew, my work etiquette was beyond pristine and precise. I valued my missions above anything else, and so, I had wasted no time in reporting back to the Auror’s Office—to Theseus Scamander—about what I had found out at the casino. The attack that Grindelwald’s men—Seonghwa—was tasked to lead to avenge their leader. I could only hope that I was on time, that they hadn’t gotten to the village just yet, but with Seonghwa knowing that I had discovered their plans, it was probable that I was either too late, or they wouldn’t attack anymore. Either way, I was compromised and I needed to move, to go into hiding at one of our safe houses. I had requested to be placed close to Yunho and Mingi, in hopes that I could finally find them and speak to them. I missed them gravely, and slowly I had started feeling crazy without their safe and comforting presence around me.

But my mission wasn’t over yet, due to the weight of Seonghwa’s own mission, now I was tasked with killing him. It was a straight-up order, nothing could change their minds. Even if Seonghwa apologized and begged, they wouldn’t forgive him. In their eyes, he deserved to die—and I knew this. He did deserve to die, but I couldn’t ignore the growing lump in my throat and the coil of my stomach any time I tried to come up with a plan to lure him towards me. I was a trained professional, and I was tasked to kill a man. It would have been like second nature if said main wasn’t Seonghwa. I didn’t know how to proceed just yet, but I knew upon seeing Mingi and Yunho I would find solace in their presence and inspiration in their ideas. But one thing was certain, I would never be able to face Hongjoong again if my mission was successful.

I had woken up early in the morning to pack away my most important belongings, stuffing old polaroids deep into my satchel bag—the same one I had used at Hogwarts. At times when I felt nostalgic and missed the good old times, I would flip through the moving polaroids that had been taken at Hogwarts, many of them of Seonghwa and I, or of Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and I. Despite Yunho and Mingi having entered my life recently—three years ago, more specifically—the pictures of the three of us belonged in the same pile. Those two were like the brothers I never had.

I had taken my time to venture into the Muggle World and buy enough pills to last me three months in case I had to hide for a longer period of time, and I was already tempted to abuse the prescribed amount as I placed the third bottle away in my satchel bag, zipping it closed and placing it down onto the floor, next to my other bags. Now all I had to do was wait for the official that would fetch me and Apparate me to the safe house. Only a select few knew of its location, and I would be granted permission only once we have arrived to it. It didn’t help either that last night I was plagued with nightmares, the lack of sleep and the pills I had taken earlier this morning made me feel drowsy now, making me contemplate if taking a nap right now was smart or not. But I felt too restless to sleep, and thus, I couldn’t stop pacing around my main hallway, chewing away at my bottom lip. I was thinking of ways that I could deal with Seonghwa, desperately trying to find a way out in which he remained alive, when there were three firm knocks at my front door. I released a stressed sigh, grateful that the official was finally here and that I wouldn’t have to think about my issues for a little while.

I hurried over to the door, unlocking it quickly and yanking it open, freezing in surprise. The black cloaked figure was tall, head leaning down and obscured by a hood, making me wonder if the Ministry had changed up their customs and forgot to update me about them. But then, the person raised their head just until I could see their eyes, and I froze. Round eyes were narrowed into a ferocious glare and I gasped as I went to slam the door shut, fear striking my whole body as Seonghwa threw himself against my front door, pushing with all of his force to throw it open. I hissed as I leaned against the door heavily, refusing to give up, but Seonghwa gave it an aggressive push and I was sent tumbling back as I crashed into the round table placed in the middle of the hallway. He pushed the door open with his foot and unclipped his cloak from around his shoulders as he elegantly stepped inside, eyes cautiously glancing around, surveying the place. Perhaps he was looking to make sure I was alone.

I quickly snapped out of my initial shock and pushed off the table, heart beating fast as I ran around the table, going to fetch my wand which was placed atop the fireplace, but suddenly I felt my feet tangle together, sending me face first down onto the floor. I groaned as I narrowly avoided banging my head against the surface and rolled onto my back as I heard footsteps quickly approach. Staring up at Seonghwa wide eyed, his wand pointed at me, I narrowed my eyes and watched as the wand flew out of his hand at my non-verbal spell. His jaw clenched and I quickly jumped up to my feet, eyeing his wand, contemplating whether I should grab his instead as I knew he was never too good at wandless magic. I could only hope that was still true.

But as I lunged towards his wand, which had rolled underneath the table, Seonghwa lunged for me, arms wrapping around me and tackling me onto the table. I gasped as I collided against the surface painfully so, my shoulder digging into the sturdy wood as Seonghwa pressed my cheek with his hand against the surface without mercy.

“You’ve got a nice little cottage for yourself, Miss Song.” He sneered leaning down, “A little too daring for my taste. You didn’t even have wards set up.”

I huffed and grabbed his wrist with my left hand, which wasn’t trapped underneath my body, and yanked his hand off my face, kicking his shin hard with my leg, “I fear no one, Mr. Park. One doesn’t need wards when they live on the edge a Wizarding and Muggle town.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, my love.” I gulped at the once endearing nickname, and trashed around until Seonghwa’s hold loosened, “You made tracking you so easy.”

I chuckled as I finally wrestled my way out from underneath Seonghwa, “Perhaps I wanted to be found, my love, perhaps you just willingly walked into my trap, Hwa.”

Seonghwa froze for a second, face falling as I smirked and jumped up, hand curling around his neck as I threw him into the wall behind him, making him gasp at the sheer force I had used. I had never fought physically against Seonghwa, we had only duelled at Hogwarts. He had no idea what I was capable of in hand-to-hand combat. But I also had no idea how he fought, and I was certainly taken aback when I felt his knee raise into my stomach, making me suck in a sharp breath of air. My hand left his neck as I doubled over, fighting the urge to vomit as Seonghwa looked down at me with a dark look in his eyes. I felt fingers card through my hair and my head was yanked back as I groaned, looking up into his eyes with venom.

“You’re rather unprepared for someone who’s just lured me into their trap.” Seonghwa leered, leaning down, but before he could get too close, I stomped on his foot harshly, making him cry out as he let go of me, pushing me to the side. Regaining my balance, I dashed towards the fireplace to retrieve my wand and I heard hurried movement behind myself as well as we both turned around at the same time, wands held in each other’s direction threateningly. Neither of us moved nor spoke, our eyes boring into each other’s to see who would make the first attack. Based on experience, Seonghwa wouldn’t attack first, he would wait for me to do that, but I suppose times have changed us as I was forced to dodge an attack that almost made my fireplace explode into pieces. My eyes widened at the aggressive nature of Seonghwa’s attack and decided to return the energy. If he wanted to play dirty and use non-verbal magic, I could certainly match his energy.

I sent a Stupefy his way and watched in satisfaction as it took him off guard and sent him flying into the wall, breaking the small shoe rack that I have mounted myself. I smirked at Seonghwa, tilting my head with a challenging glint in my eyes, until I suddenly lost my footing again. It had seemed like he was fond of the spell. Seonghwa looked slightly dazed as I tried to regain my bearings, my head having hit the floor a little hard this time, but the duel must go on, I have gone through far worse things compared to this.

Sharp icy arrows were shot towards me as I scrambled backward, raising an invisible shield with my left hand as I sent blue fireballs towards Seonghwa using wandless magic. His eyebrows furrowed as he raised his own shield last minute, looking taken aback that I could use my magic so sharply while utilizing three methods at once. I knew he couldn’t when his eyes hardened again, giving me time to finally stand up and continue my attack with a spell that had birds materializing and diving for Seonghwa. He yelped and shielded himself, his barrier broken by the bird’s beaks as I shot another Stupefy at him, which he barely avoided as it crashed into the portraits hung onto the wall, sending them crashing to the floor.

I knew his next move before he even did it—I didn’t need to read his mind to know—as I raised another shield, dodging his strong Stupefy as it shattered my spell quite instantly. This duel felt childlike, as if we were testing each other’s patience, wanting to see who would give in first. It almost felt petty, like he was only teasing me because he was so certain that he’d win. I could count on my fingers how often he had beat me in a duel, and I knew for a fact that he still wasn’t better than me. Fed up with our useless fight, I decided to put an end to it as my eyes hardened, Seonghwa’s eyes narrowing upon seeing my expression. But before I could yell out Expelliarmus, I felt my right hand burn, the wand so hot that I had no choice but to drop it as I gasped, the tremors of my hands worsening as I looked back up at Seonghwa. He was smirking, thinking he had won the duel, but I raised my left hand and screamed, “Expelliarmus!”

He didn’t expect me not to give in right away, and so, his wand flew out of his hand as I whirled it against the wall, hearing a crack. My breath halted in my throat as my eyes widened in horror, watching as Seonghwa’s broken wand fell to the floor, his jaw falling open as he flinched. The apology was on the tip of my tongue, but the pure rage that had encompassed Seonghwa’s face made me shiver, and I dashed for the front door, trying to escape before his wrath could reach me. But had I miscalculated our distance, and as I grabbed the handle and tried to open the door, I felt a warm presence behind myself as the door was slammed back shut, my breathing loud in the silent room as my heart had started beating fast.

I was frozen, too afraid to move as I didn’t know what Seonghwa would do now. The man that stood behind me, stopping me from fleeing, was somebody I didn’t know. I could hear Seonghwa trying to level his breaths as his palm remained pressing against the door, his arm brushing against my hair. I tried to calculate my next move, work out what would be the smartest thing to do next, but his proximity made it hard to focus. I had seen him barely two days ago and his touch was still fresh in my mind, haunting my every waking moment, making me crave him like never before.

“Where’s Riddle when you need him, huh?” Seonghwa’s tone was poisonous, laced with hatred as I tensed, eyebrows furrowing.

“I don’t need Riddle,” I hissed, jaw clenching as my grip tightened around the handle, “I can protect myself; I don’t need anyone.”

“One would assume he’d be running here to save you like the lost puppy he was following you around at Hogwarts—”

“Tom has no part in my life!” My voice raised as I grew angrier, whirling around to face Seonghwa. I faltered for a second, finding him too close for comfort as he glared down at me, a dangerous glimmer in his eyes as I gulped, “I only used him to get an invite to the casino because I heard he goes there often—like you.”

Seonghwa’s careful mask cracked for a second as his eyebrows twitched, almost turning into a frown, but he caught himself and smirked instead, leaning down, “You think you can fool me with your pathetic lies?”

“Want me to show you?” I raised an eyebrow challengingly, knowing that it would only make Seonghwa angrier as he detested Legillimency, especially after I have used it on him at the casino.

He scoffed, leaning down closer to my face, “I should’ve killed you on the spot two nights ago—”

“Yet you didn’t,” I breathed out with a scoff, “like I haven’t told anyone about you and Lestrange’s stupid plan of bringing Grindelwald inside Hogwarts.”

“It wasn’t stupid—”

“You failed.”

“Because Riddle caused a scene, as always.” Seonghwa hissed, and I jumped when his fist made contact with the door above my head, making me melt back into the sturdy door, heart racing all over again, “I would’ve killed him a long time ago if Grindelwald hadn’t seen potential in him.”

Dread washed over me as I felt my stomach drop, “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t worry,” Seonghwa leered, tilting his head to the side as his glare made me feel sick to my stomach. He’s never looked at me like that, with so much venom and hatred, “your little lover refused his offer and Grindelwald decided to let him live for a little longer.”

“He’s not my lover.” I snapped, chest rising and falling quickly once again as I started getting angry. When would he understand that I could never look at Tom the way he thinks I did, “I have never harboured any romantic feelings towards Tom—I don’t even understand how my personal life is any of your business. You don’t see me talking ill of Rhaena or questioning her motives with you, Seonghwa.”

He paused as he gulped loudly, his hand slipping lower on the door until it was right next to my head, his wrist brushing against my cheekbone, “Rhaena is someone I work with, it’s all professional.”

“I do not care, Seonghwa.”

“You don’t, right.”

I gulped as suddenly an uncertain look crossed Seonghwa’s features, his eyes momentarily softening as I felt my whole body tingle as he stepped closer, his clothes brushing against mine. I felt my mouth go dry as my eyes roamed his face, palms turning into fists as I felt the sudden urge to reach out to him and touch him. Seonghwa placed his other hand against the door too, caging me in between himself and the sturdy surface. His eyebrows furrowed as his dark eyes bore into mine, bangs slightly obscuring his beautiful eyes as he exhaled slowly, closing the distance between our bodies. I shuddered and tilted my head back as he straightened up, my eyes landing on his plush lips as he parted them, tongue poking out to lick his dry lips. My whole body was buzzing as my eyebrows furrowed, my heart and mind fighting a never-ending battle as I couldn’t contain myself anymore and reached up, fingers reluctantly touching his cheek.

I wasn’t certain if he’d let me as his eyebrows furrowed even more, obvious that he was also struggling to make up his mind. But at last, I decided to be brave and cupped his warm cheek, my hand trembling against his soft skin. Seonghwa gasped quietly as his eyes widened, searching my gaze before his eyes fluttered shut, bringing tears into my eyes. I so desperately wanted to be engulfed by his familiar embrace, the warmth of his safe hug, the feeling of belonging, something I haven’t felt ever since we parted ways. Then, just slightly, as my fingers have started tracing his cheekbone, he turned his head and pressed a firm kiss against my wrist, alighting a vicious fire in my body.

“Seonghwa.” I had barely finished whispering his name when my lips were muffled by his, the familiarity of them making me moan as I threw my arms around his shoulders, clinging to him with desperation. Seonghwa inhaled loudly as he gripped my hips and flushed our bodies together to the point you couldn’t tell where he started and where I ended, and I pushed up on my tiptoes to better kiss him. His pace was sloppy and desperate as I returned the aggressivity of his own lips, fingers tangling in his dark and long locks, pulling on the strands and making him groan in the back of his throat. He leaned down and I felt his hands travel to my thighs, and I jumped before he could signal for me to, legs wrapping around his hips firmly as he pressed me back up against the sturdy door, moaning against my mouth when I finally parted my lips for his tongue to explore. He tasted like the old Seonghwa, he smelled like the old Seonghwa, he even felt like the old Seonghwa.

His body had gotten sturdier, stronger, and yet despite the desperate way he clung to me, fingers pressing into my cheeks or grabbing at my neck, he remained mindful of hurting me, of being gentle even in our desperation to feel each other, to love each other. His tongue lapped at mine eagerly, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth when he pulled back for a scarce breather, making me chase after his lips again as I couldn’t let go of him just yet. Our lips were swollen and covered in our mixed saliva, but I couldn’t care less as finally my thoughts were silent, my body and mind only focusing on Seonghwa. He gripped the back of my thighs and I made sure to hold onto him tighter as he pulled me off the door and started walking aimlessly around my cottage, having to pull away from my lips just slightly so that I could give him directions towards my bedroom.

Our clothes were quick to come off, even before we made it to the bedroom, and I found his once flawless skin now littered with scars, bringing tears to my eyes as he shuddered when I gently traced them with my fingertips. My body wasn’t perfect either, but it definitely harboured less scars than his, and it made me wonder just how many times he’s been in harms way with no guarantee that he’ll make it out alive. Before I could cry, Seonghwa’s lips were pressing against my cheeks, my forehead, my eyes, my nose, my jaw and chin, at last finding my lips as I was guided backwards onto the bed, pressing me down gently as he wasted no time getting on top of me. Despite the passing of time and being away from each other for four years, our bodies seemed to still know the other, our minds remembering every little thing that made the other tick, and it felt natural as we were guided by pure lust and desire for each other.

I had tried to remain composed and focused on Seonghwa, to give back just as much as I was receiving, but when he had settled between my legs, lips pressing feather-like kisses against my thighs until he drove me crazy and had me begging for more, I was a gone woman only able to focus on the immense pleasure his long tongue and plush lips brought, his fingers helping out when it wasn’t enough anymore. When my fingers yanked on his hair so hard that it made him whine, tongue lapping at my juices even faster, making me writ around until he held me down by the hips, Seonghwa knew I was close to unravelling, to coming undone on nothing but his tongue and fingers. But he pulled back, he always did, because he wanted to fill me up, to make me scream his name while I came undone on his dick. His lips kissed all the way up to my lips as I whispered his name over and over again, scratching down his back with my long nails, legs hooking around his hips as he wouldn’t lay on me just yet, tongue tangling with mine and making me taste myself as I reached down between us, grabbing his twitching member.

Seonghwa froze, moaning against my mouth as his eyebrows furrowed, rutting against my palm as I jerked my hand faster, until he was begging me to stop because he didn’t want to finish like this. And I did, I cradled his face in my hands as our eyes bore into each other’s, his dick finally lined up with my entrance as he slowly pushed inside, holding himself up by the forearms. It was painful, it was bittersweet, and it was the most pleasure I have felt in years, all in the arms of the man I had once loved—I still loved. My mouth had fallen open as I hissed in pain, eyebrows furrowing and eyes falling shut as Seonghwa kissed my wrists, whispering reassuring words, understanding that I haven’t done this since we went our separate ways.

But I didn’t need much to get accustomed to the once familiar feel of his dick splitting me open, stretching me out and making me feel filled to the brim, the only thought on my mind being him, Seonghwa. And I tried to swallow the noises that wanted to tear through my throat, but the harder Seonghwa slammed back in, the faster his hips thrust, I could only moan and whine, call out his name repeatedly as he fondled my breasts and made my back arch, hitting my sensitive spot over and over again. I grabbed onto his arms for leverage as he sat back on his heels, holding my hips up tightly as he pulled me down on each thrust to meet him halfway, making me curse out loudly as my stomach had started coiling, the pleasure building up until I couldn’t bear with it anymore.

“Seonghwa.” His name was nothing but a broken whisper as I bit my bottom lip, opening my arms, knowing that he’d understand my request. And he did, because he pressed himself completely against me, my arms going underneath his to hug him tightly as my fingernails pressed into his shoulder blades once again, painfully so, making Seonghwa hiss in pain and pleasure at the same time. He buried his head in my neck as he was panting, hips jerking messily as he was nearing his own undoing, much like I was. Our bodies were covered in a thin layer of sweat, chasing our own orgasms as Seonghwa’s right hand lowered between our bodies and started quickly rubbing my bundle of nerves, making me throw my head back and come undone in just a few seconds. His name left my lips like a mantra as I felt tears spring into my eyes from the overwhelming pleasure, body trembling as he stilled, and then I felt hot liquid spill inside me as he lazily continued to move his hips, making my body ache as it all felt too much.

“My love.” His lips brushed against my ear with one final thrust and then he stilled, body going lax as I was panting hard, trying to swallow but my throat felt parched. Seonghwa muttered something against the skin of my neck but I didn’t understand, and I turned my head to press kisses against his hair, his shoulder blade, and ultimately his lips when he raised his head. I instantly felt cold and like I was missing something as he rolled over and pulled out, his chest rising and falling just as frantically as mine. My heart was beating so fast that it felt like a vein would pop in my forehead and I felt Seonghwa’s fingers intertwine with mine. I gulped and looked over, finding nothing but a pained expression on his face and eyes that were overflowing with tears. I couldn’t hold it back in anymore, and let mine fall free as Seonghwa sniffed loudly, his beautiful black hair strewn across my pillow, the cloudy weather casting my bedroom in a dim light.

“I love you, Y/N,” Seonghwa’s voice was raspy and it trembled as he pressed a long-lasting kiss against my knuckles, “I love you so much, my love.”

I bit my bottom lip to fight the sob that threatened to rip through my throat and nodded, bringing our hands up to my cheek to nuzzle it against Seonghwa’s skin, “I love you too, Hwa, always have. Always will.”

But we weren’t meant to be since we were on opposing sides. And we both knew that as our tears stopped flowing, our fingers going numb from how tightly we held onto each other. Seonghwa sighed then released my hand reluctantly, making me bite back a whine as he sat up, running his fingers through his hair. Before he could get off my bed, I sat up hurriedly and threw my arms around him, letting out a long exhale as he returned the embrace, cradling my head against his naked chest. I wanted to grow old with him, I wanted to have children that would gift us grandchildren, I wanted us to never be separated again. And maybe Seonghwa wanted that too because his whole body trembled as we somehow found the strength to separate from each other, eyes yearning for something we’d never have.

I watched as he rolled over, then sat on the edge of my bed as I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging my bare legs, looking for even the smallest comfort now that I knew I would let him leave, just this once. This was our final goodbye, the closure we never got. Once Seonghwa was out of my cottage, we’d play our parts, we’d be the enemies everyone thought we were. I was ready, and perhaps he was ready to. An easy smile settled on my lips as I watched Seonghwa lean down and fetch something, his back muscles tensing as he glanced back over his shoulder. My eyebrows furrowed upon the solemn look on his face and I went rigid as he turned his torso around, my own wand pointed at me. His voice was resigned, a whisper, pained.

“Obliviate.”

1944

The train came to a screeching halt as we neared the next village, sending me back in my seat as I stared out the window, feeling bored as I knew nobody who shared the compartment with me. But that’s how it is when you don’t have friends of your own. It was alright, I had always done just fine on my own. As the train stopped and the doors opened, I watched the students who lived in this village get off, pulling their heavy luggage after themselves, greeted by their families who couldn’t wait for them to return home for the summer holiday. My chin was resting in my palm as I pursed my lips, finding it hard to enjoy my last train ride back home, never to return to Hogwarts. There was an ache in my chest that grew the longer I stared out the window, the longer I stared at the messy black-haired boy that had stopped close to the edge of the platform, gazing inside the train, dark and soft eyes landing on me unmistakably.

I gulped, feeling my heartbeat pick up the longer our gazes remained connected, confused by the ache in my chest that only got worse the longer we looked at each other. My eyebrows furrowed as I felt this sudden urge to reach out to him, to get off the train and run into his arms, to breathe in his familiar scent and feel his plush lips press against my skin, and his low voice whisper reassuring words into my ears. I didn’t know why I felt like that, I couldn’t explain the yearning of my own body as the boy’s once familiar face became hazy, unclear. No matter how hard I tried to look, I couldn’t see his features clearly. I couldn’t remember his name.

He became a murky memory in the back of my mind as the train whistled, signalling its departure, and as we took off, I felt the lurch of my heart and the coil of my stomach worsen as I jumped up from my seat, pulling the window open and scaring those sitting in the compartment with me. I looked out the window, head leaning outside as my eyebrows furrowed, the name of the boy on the tip of my tongue as I desperately tried to cry out his name—but I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t know who he was. The alarmed cries of the people who rode with me snapped me out of my unexplainable actions, and I settled back into my seat feeling confused and embarrassed as I apologized.

I couldn’t tell anymore why my heart ached like I had loved someone with my whole being, with my soul, like I had sworn to remain by their side forever and even beyond. It confused me as to why I wanted to sob and scream after a boy that once was my guiding light in the darkness, my star. A face once familiar now became just the whisper of a distant memory that I couldn’t put my finger on, a nostalgic ache of a love that felt real, yet intangible.

The stars couldn’t shine bright without their darkness.

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lucky-bucky-boy · 1 year ago

Text

Changing Tides

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 6790

Summary: You and Bucky get paired together for undercover missions a lot because it works beautifully, despite the fact that you don't really even interact at home.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, limited use of Y/N, LOTS of pet names (pretty girl, baby, i think baby girl, my girl etc), praise kink, oral f. receiving, slight angst, reader is in denial for a good bit of this, angst if you squint, reader is a part of the team, this piece takes place in an AU where everyone lives together and everything is happy

A/N: Oh. My. God. I did NOT intend for this to be this long, at one point I thought I was going to have to make this a two-parter but I got it all in here. I really enjoyed writing this, please let me know what y'all think!! :)))

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

Hues of velvety violet and radiant amber mixed, painting the evening sky like a scene out of a museum. The scent of warm sea salt was still palpable in the air, the crystal like water of the wide-expanding ocean reflected the light of the setting sun. Dancing specs of light could be seen in the darker shades of the sky, stars bright and clear against the inky color.

The cold metal of the hotel balcony pressed against your exposed skin, shirt having risen up as you leaned over it slightly. The view was beyond breathtaking, something you would argue belonged on a movie screen. It was serene, offering a moment of reprieve from the typical chaos you endured in a day, and a distraction from the man currently sitting in the hotel room behind you.

Hate didn’t describe the emotions you felt for the brunet. On a daily basis, there was an underlying disinterest but every now and then a seething annoyance would bubble at the mere thought of the former soldier. You couldn’t pin-point why. Bucky himself had never done anything to wrong you after his rehabilitation and reintroduction into society, and you could easily say nothing the Winter Soldier had done counted towards your feelings.

The odd part of it all is the Bucky and you worked well together, great even. More often than not, you found yourself partnered with Bucky on just about every mission the two of you had; from quick in and out missions to undercover operations like the one you were on now. The communication was great, the two of you easily fell into a rhythm and could read each other’s body language like you’ve known each other your whole life. It was easy to slip into a faux-domesticity with him, which was a stark contrast to the daily life you lived.

The day to day with Bucky involved a lack of any form of contact. You’d avoid the gym if he was in it, would eat in silence if the two of you happened to be in the kitchen at the same time, eye-contact was consistently avoided - Really, the only time the two of you were seen together at home was during group training sessions and team-building nights. You were sure to never make it awkward for the rest of the team, never bad mouth or be outwardly annoyed at Bucky’s presence, you just really couldn’t care less if he was there or not.

“Sweetheart,” his voice carried from the room, light and sweet, almost intoxicating with a feeling instantly having your gut turn and catch your skin aflame, “Did you want to go out for dinner tonight or just order room service?” His voice got nearer as he moved to join you on the balcony.The cool metal prosthetic wrapped around your waist as he stood next to you.

A soft hum left your lips, gaze moving from the horizon to the prosthetic then to Bucky’s face. He adorned a slight scruff, long hair pulled back into a low bun; His eyes nearly twinkled as they reflected the setting sky in the distance, he wore soft maroon button down and black chinos that truly made him look like a normal, well-off guy. Tony and Peter had finally managed to perfect the color needed to make Bucky prosthetic look like a normal arm which easily sealed the deal on assuring that there was nothing major that could be easily spotted to dox the two of you as agents.

The flight to Morocco was long and the next 10 days were easily going to be even longer, the last thing you wanted to do was be anywhere but a soft bed. “Room service,” you replied, matching the tone he had asked the question with. You leaned your head against his shoulder, moving your gaze back to the ocean, “Did you do a room check and get our things set up?”

He nodded, “Everything inside is clear and put away,” he squeezed your side softly when he said inside, a subtle emphasis to communicate where it was safe to not be in character. “I’ll go order the room service, you can go shower and get comfortable. I know how much you hate the airport.” He chuckled softly at the end, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline before making his way back inside.

You let out a soft sigh, making it inside as well and closing the balcony door behind you as you did. This really was going to be a long 10 days.

The bitter taste of the wine nearly made your mouth water, sitting somewhere between too intense and the perfect thing to take the edge off. The first full day had been smooth, an easy itinerary of walking and exploring the city. From the outside, the two of you easily looked like a love sick couple; matching clothes, a large diamond in your hand, Bucky always opening the door for you and your soft smile that just couldn't seem to leave you face; but in reality you had been mapping the city, learning the back alley ways and locating any ports that may be needed for a quick exit.

The small patio of the restaurant adorned a handful of tables, lanterns lighting the area in a soft romantic glow, lucious plants filling in any space, the open space allowed for ease of blending into the crowd while watching any passerby on the street. Bucky had taken up a game of footsie with you, chattering along about some of the shops you had passed along the way.

“Is there any shop you’d want to make your way back to?” Bucky took a sip of the wine in front of him, eyes fixed on you intently.

A soft hum left your lips, swaying your head back and forth softly as you thought. “Well, I wanna hit up the history and art museum, so maybe we could see if there’s any other cute shops there? If not, I’d definitely like to look at the jewelry store and bookstore we passed on the way here.”

“Mmm, I do think it’s time to get my pretty girl a new necklace,” the words fell off Bucky’s tongue like he sweet talked you on the daily.

There was that feeling again, the uneasiness that laid in the pit of your stomach and your skin heated up. Maybe this was why you couldn’t stand Bucky outside of missions, maybe you just didn’t want to deal with this feeling constantly. “You spoil me enough, ya know,” you offered a soft giggle, “I can assure you I don’t need any more jewelry, my love.”

Bucky smirked softly, cocking his eyebrows up at you with a knowing look on his face, “You may not need it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do it anyways.”

You shook your head, about to offer a rebuttal as the waiter set your food down in front of you, all thoughts being lost to the amazing sights and smells. “This is easily my favorite part of our trips,” you stated, the distraction of food keeping you from noticing the way Bucky’s gaze stayed on you and a soft smile lingered.

Six days of being enveloped in Bucky’s presence, and thankfully it was getting easier by the moment. It had been a smooth operation so far, the information being easy to locate and gather without raising suspicions. As a result, Tony had said to take a day to relax, lay low and assure no one was able to realize there was something more to you two.

Bucky had made a home on the balcony of your hotel, a book in hand and a coffee sat on the little table next to him.He been there since the early morning and it was easily almost noon, not that that you were bothering to check the clock. A day off meant a day of sleep and eating, nothing much more than that.

However, sleeping wasn't something your body wanted to do so you found yourself with a forgotten movie playing on the television, your gaze consistently going back to him. You weren't sure why, but you couldn't keep your eyes off him. You'd been sitting for the past God knows how long trying to figure out why you couldn't pull your eyes away from him. His hair was down, something he didn't do quite often, almost always finding it easier to have it pulled away from his face. From the angle he was sitting, you could see his light gray button down was still completely unbuttoned, his jean shorts a little too snug around his thighs. He occasionally sipped the coffee that was most likely cold at this point, turning the page of the thick novel occasionally. His lips would purse, eyebrows scrunch occasionally, or a small chuckle, or even a shake of his head as he reacted to the words on the page.

The wind picked up some, indicating a small rain storm that was destined to his later in the evening was starting to make it's way in. Bucky pulled a hair tie from his pocket, tying his hair into his typical low bun before picking his book back up. And it finally hit you; Fuck he's pretty.

The thought immediately made your body heat up and the instant feeling of something in between shame and excitement sat low in your belly. It was like a well known secret your subconscious kept for years finally made it over the wall of denial in your brain, immediately making your thoughts run wild; Fuck he's so pretty, more than pretty actually. What if this is why we've been weird for some many years? Wait. Why would that make it weird? Wait. Why is it weird? Why do we get along so well on missions and then act so differently at home? Oh My God… Has the team been trying to set us up?

Shaking your head, you jumped up, apparently too suddenly because Bucky broke his concentration on his book to glance over at you. You could feel he was watching you move around, the only thought in your head now was to get out for some fresh air as you deciphered the flood of thoughts. You grabbed some fresh clothes, slipping into the bathroom with a heavy sigh once the door was closed.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, attempting to ground yourself. Okay, what the hell is going on? The question kept repeating itself over and over in your head as you slipped into a summer dress, a sage flowy piece that Natasha and you bought for this trip specifically. It was cute, and Nat was right when she said it complimented your skin; definitely different than your normal attire but still comfortable.

Walking out of the bathroom, you were relieved to find Bucky still where he was when you entered. After slipping on some sandals, you moved towards him, immediately aware of every detail of your very being. "Hey," you kept your voice soft, waiting for him to pull him eyes from the book and look up at you. There was something about how brightly his eyes shone with the golden sun beating down on him, there was a sense of both innocence and mystique, and the instant feeling of safety just from holding his gaze. "I'm heading out to get some coffee, do you want a fresh one? You've been sipping at the same cup for hours now."

Bucky glanced down at the cup, then to his watch, eyes going wide for a moment before a soft chuckle left his lips. "I've been out here for 4 hours already, shit. Yeah, I'd love a fresh one, doll. Thank you." He offered you a soft smile, "Just get me a-"

"A latte with three honeys on the side," you said matter-of-factly, "I could order for you at just about anywhere at this point." It was a teasing joke, one Bucky laughed at, but you instantly cursed yourself for even saying it.

"We do spend quite a bit of time together," he hummed out, "Did you want to go out for dinner or get room service tonight?" He asked, picking his book back up as he prepared for your departure.

"Let me see how I feel after I get back. But if we go out, it's your turn to pick. I picked last night." You stated before leaning down to kiss his hairline, still needing to keep up the act just in case someone was managing to spy; or at least that's what you were telling yourself. "I'll see you inna bit."

After returning with the coffee, still finding Bucky to be where he was when he left him, it was an instant decision to find a way to give yourself more time a way from the man that had your mind absolutely scrambled. Grabbing a book of your own, you let him know you'd be down by the pool if he needed you, using a quick excuse about wanting some change in scenery before the rain came as you left.

You weren't entirely sure how long you'd been out there, it couldn't have been too long, but you we're aware you were reading the same page over and over again. The words seemed to mix together, jumbling about and not registering even in the slightest, your brain still attempting to make sense of what you were feeling.

You never denied that Bucky was attractive, that's admittedly part of what made undercover missions easy. You never denied that you two got along well on missions, but you couldn't explain or pinpoint why you didn't get along at home. Sure, you were never hostile or rude, but it was exactly friendly or outgoing either. No matter how much you thought and walked through your early memories of Bucky, you couldn't make sense of anything.

At this point, you knew pride was part of the issue. You knew the team would be able to walk you through, at the very least Nat or Pepper or maybe even Steve, but you could never admit to them what you were currently feeling or going through. The only thing you wanted to do, needed to do was to act normal until you got home. Then you could just hide away and go back to not having to interact with the man that was causing you turmoil.

"There's my pretty girl," Bucky's drawl quickly pulled you out of your thoughts, causing you to jump at the sudden push back to reality. Seeing you jump caused Bucky to chuckle, especially as you turned to glare at him and his bright smile, "It's getting late, baby. We should go get some food."

He moved to the lounge chair you had made home in, kneeling down next to you so he was eye-level. There was that feeling again, low in the pit of your stomach that had your skin warming. "There's apparently food trucks at a park about not too far. Why don't we head there and get some food to bring back and watch a movie?"

Instinctively, you reach to tuck a strand of loose hair behind his ear, offering a soft nod and a smile, "That sounds perfect."

You wanted nothing more than to kiss him, the thought immediately making your already warm skin heat up more, feeling flustered and like a school girl. It's not like you haven't kissed, it was just agreed upon that it was reserved for dire need situations. All other physical touchs; hand holding, forehead kissing, even smacking each others ass was okay to sell the facade that you were a happy couple.

Bucky picked up on the change, a look of slight worry on his face, "You okay, doll?"

The laugh that left you was slightly anxious, holding the book in your hand up as a quick white lie, "Yeah, you just came down at a particularly… intense scene."

He immediately laughed, kissing your forehead as he stood up. "You're so cute. Let's get going though."

The bustling crowds offered a great distraction - Bucky stood proudly by your side, fingers interlocked together and swinging your joined hands softly like a love sick couple. The both of you scanned the crowd, trying to figure out where to go and what to get.

The lines weren't too long, there were nearly a dozen trucks, and live music playing. The sun was finally setting, more clouds rolling in and bringing in a cooler breeze that allowed for a reprieve from the beach heat. There were benches with umbrellas set up, lantern lights adorning some posts and wires around the lot. It was cute, and if it wasn't for the mission you were still technically on, it would feel so wrong to be here with Bucky.

After a moment of thought, you looked at Bucky, lips slightly pursed in thought, "I have an idea." You stated matter-of-factly.

He cooked an eyebrows at you, intrigued and slightly amused with your tone, "Let's hear it then."

"Let's get a platter or some random menu item from every truck then go back to the room and eat there."

Bucky looked around and nodded, "Ya know what, doll, that sounds fantastic. Do you wanna divide and conquer or go one by one?"

It was then that you realized the clouds were darkening, and the rain was definitely going to happen sooner than later. "Let's divide and conquer before the rain comes."

With a nod of agreement the two of you split, heading to either end of the trucks and working your way to each other. With the lines being shorter, it didn't take too long to get through them all, the both of you holding multiple bags stacked full of food and tied tightly. Quick words were exchanged before you started heading back towards the hotel, hoping to make it back before the rain.

The effort was fruitless though, with just maybe a few hundred feet left before the hotel you were staying at, the cold rain begins to pour down, the dark sky opening up and letting go every ounce of water it was holding on to. With loud gasps from the both of you, and small playful shriek even, you two took off running into the lobby, screeching yourselves to a stop as you entered and stood on the mats in front of the door. You were breathing heavily, attempting to catch your breath; a quick glance to Bucky showed you he was doing the same.

After a few moments, the two of you made eye contact, bursting into immediate laughter. You were both soaked head to toe, the only thing saved was the food. His shoes make a sloshing sound and your feet slid around in your sandals, you clothes clinging to every inch of your bodies. You were easily a sight for sore eyes, but it couldn't have been funnier.

"Why didn't either of us think about the rain?" You managed to get out through your laughter.

"Who knows, but let's get upstairs so we can get dry." He managed to respond.

The elevator ride up felt like an eternity, the cold of the AC feeling more intense from your wet skin. Bucky opened the door for you, letting you in first. He set the foot down, immediately kicking off his shoes. "Go shower, get warm. I'll pull out a change of clothes for you and we can swap when you're done."

Something about the direction made you freeze momentarily, causing him to look up at you, "(Y/N), you're freezing. Go shower. I'm fine to wait." His voice was soft and caring and there was a part of you that wanted to tell him to shower with you.

In the dim light of the room and the soaking wet clothes made him look even more divine, like he was sculpted from the gods themselves. You nodded, handing him the bags before making your way towards the bathroom. You closed the door, then quickly opening it to call out but he cut you off, "You want an oversized shirt and a loose pair of shorts, gets your ass in the shower." His tone was demanding but still playful. You caught the look in his eyes, mischievous, playful, and a hint of something you didn't want to recognize.

You kept your shower quick, ready to be in comfortable clothes and a bed with good food. After quickly drying yourself as much as possible, you wrapped yourself in a towel, and stepped out into the bedroom. Bucky stood in only his boxers, his own clothes in one hand while he scrolled through the television with the other. It wasn't the first time you've seen him with this little clothing, but something about it now made your mouth dry and your skin heat up.

"All yours," you said, grabbing his attention as you moved to the bed where he laid your clothes out for you.

"Thanks, doll. I'll be quick. You can pick the movie," he tossed the remote onto the bed before disappearing into the bathroom himself.

You stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm yourself before slipping into the clean clothes. Bucky had already made work of getting creative. He pulled the ironing board from the closet and set the food up next to the bed, had fluffed the pillows up into a sitting position, and already gotten drinks for the two of you. By the time you had decided on a movie, Bucky was coming out of the bathroom.

Immediarely, you mind started short circuiting again. He looked soft. He had on a light blue shirt and a pair of light gray shorts, his hair was towel dried and brushed against his shoulders, a slight wave to the brown locks. He slid in bed next to you, getting himself situated and comfortable before handing over the massive spread of food for you to start digging into.

After about 20 minutes of eating and watching the movie in a comfortable silence, Bucky turned the volume down some, "Can I ask you a question?" The tone of his voice alone already told you how he was feeling. There was a sense of worry, anxiety almost to him.

"Of course, what's wrong?" You asked, sitting your food to the side so you could turn to look at him.

Bucky followed your lead, moving the food he had off the bed as well before taking a drink, trying to have a moment to articulate how he was going to ask what he wanted. Even though Bucky was sure the room wasn't bugged, he knew that there's was never a 100% chance of assuring that. The fact alone could make talking about things outside of the mission difficult, and this one one of those moments.

"How's the trip been for you? I know we haven't been on one in a while and I just want to make sure everything's okay, that we're okay." He had turned fully to look at you now, the worry in his voice making it to his eyes.

"Oh…" the response was immediate, and you regretted it instantly the second you so that worry on his face grow, "The trips been wonderful, and uh…" You sighed, toying with the blanket around you, "We're fine, yeah. I'm just… not here?" You said, sort of motioning to your head to get the point across.

Bucky cocked his head some, the worry turning to confusion. "Are we going to be okay when we go home?"

That was something you couldn't answer. What was okay. Was okay how you normally act? Was okay something different? Something better? Something worse?

"Uh… maybe?" You offered, immediately wincing at your own words. You sighed deeply, "I don't really know how to explain what I'm feeling."

"Okay," Bucky took a moment, letting you both sit in the uncomfortable silence that was the lull in the conversation. He was doing his best not to become frustrated, he knew there was most likely no easy way for you to communicate what you wanted to say or even what you were feeling, but he's been able to tell for the past couple of days that things, specifically that you, have been off. "What do you know?"

Your gaze met his again, taking a deep breath in to try to gather the courage to say what you needed. "Things feel… different?"

"Different?"

"Different."

Bucky stared at you for a moment, mind calculating and analyzing has he tried to decipher what you meant. In an instant it all clicked, and you didn't miss the way his lips curled into a quick smirk before his features soften. "Do things feel different when I call you my pretty girl?"

He watched as you immediately became flustered, averting your gaze and watching your chest rise and fall quicker. He thought he had sensed your heart rate quickening throughout the past couple of days, but he had honestly assumed it was anxiety from the mission. He had no reason to think it could be something else; Well, until now.

"(Y/N)," your name came as firm and demanding, causing you to look at him. The smirk on his face was more evident now, "We can continue this conversation now, or when we get home. But just remember, you're my favorite book to read."

You were instantly lost for words, mouth opening and closing as you processed what he just said to you. Waiting until you were home was going to be far too long, but talking about whatever this was now? Right now when you were flustered beyond belief, that flippant warm feeling filling every valley and curve of your body?

"Just say the word, doll, and I'll act like everything is normal. I'll go back to watching the movie and eating and ignoring the obivous."

A soft shake of your head was all you could muster as you search desperately for a will to stop the inevitable, or the courage to beg for it.

"Words, (Y/N). Use your words."

"I don't want normal." You swallowed, taking a shaky breath you continued, "I don't want this to go back to normal."

Buckys lips turned to a smile. "You don't want this to stop when we go home?"

You shook you head more feverishly, "No, I - Fuck, what have you done to me?" You groaned out.

"The same thing you've been doing to me for years, I suppose." His tone was matter-of-fact, cool and calm almost.

"What?" Your eyes had gone wide, mouth dry, and that God forsaken feeling low in your stomach was growing.

"You heard me. Obviously, we'll have some talking to do when we get home." He chuckled

Bucky moved as if he was going to grab the food, stopping once he heard, "No," come out of your mouth, "No. I want to talk about it now."

He looked back at you, eyebrows raising as to silently ask how.

"I want to…" You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief at yourself before leaning forward, cupping the back of his neck with your hand and pressing your lips to his.

This kiss was different; It was electricity filled, igniting every nerve in your body. You could feel the heat from your ears to your toes. It was intoxiting and addicting.

Bucky waisted no time in kissing you back, even letting out a small groan at your sudden assertiveness. His prosthetic hand held onto you waist, the other cupping your face as the two of you broke years worth of tension in one swift motion. Bucky pulled away first, taking in the plumpness of your kiss swollen lips, the sluttering of your lashes as your opened your eyes to look at him, and the darkness of your gaze that was stricken with last.

He looked just as enthralled, blue eyes dark as the night sky and hooded with desire, cheeks flushed slightly beneath his scruff. It finally clicked what the feeling you've been having all week was. Lust; pure, unadulterated lust for the man who was currently pretending to be your husband.

"Well damn, doll," he offered you a toothy grin, squeezing your waist, "Wasn't expecting that."

"Sorry-"

"Don't be." He bit his lip, studying your face for a moment, "Whatcha thinking, pretty girl?"

You couldn't help but get flustered, "That I want more. A lot fucking more." You hand moved up from his neck to card through his hair, his breath hitching some as you did. "Please, James, I need more." Your voice had a slight whine to it, something you hoped he wouldn't be able to resist.

"If I knew you sounded so pretty begging this would've happened years ago," he grumbled before kissing you again. This time though, he re-situated himself, helping you move to straddling him and doing his best to let you still have some semblance of control for now. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you from being able to move away from him.

One of your hands cupped his face, the other running down his clothed chest. You lips move in sink, a squeeze on your hips eliciting a small moan from you that he took advantage of, using your open mouth to slip his tongue in. You could feel the tent in his shorts growing, sitting hard against your core.

An experimental grind of your hips pulled a moan form the man beneath you; The sound was music to your ears, and enough encouragement to do it again.

Buckys hands moved, bracing you as he flipped you over to give himself more leverage and take control. Just as he begin to grind himself against you, he moved his lips from your to your neck. He kissed his way down to your pulse point, drinking in the sweet sounds you made. He sucked softly at the skin, moaned himself when you pulled at his hair.

Any rationale thought was gone at this point, any fears or anxieties you had pushed to the back of your mind as pure pleasure and desire took over the forefront of your thoughts. Once Bucky was sure he would be satisfied with the mark he left on you, he pulled back some to look you in the eye.

"Are you sure you want this?" He breathed out, offering you an out.

You nodded so quickly he couldn't help but laugh softly, "God, you look so fucking desperate, doll. You want me to fuck you?" He had a slight tease to his voice.

Another nod is all you could muster, but that wasn't good enough for him. "Uh uh, come on. Use your words. Need to hear you say it if you want me to do it."

You whined at his demand, pouting at him slightly, "Please."

"Please what?" His tone was more stern now, "If you want to continue, I need to know you actually want this."

His insistence to make sure you were consenting pulled at your heart strings. You nodded, "Yes, Bucky," you kept your voice soft before adding a slight whine and plea to it, "Please fuck me."

He smiled, kissing you much softer than had had before, "I'd do anything you asked me to." His words sounded like a promise that had you own emotions bubbling up.

Bucky leaned up for a moment, pulling off his shirt. He motioned for you to sit up and pulled yours off as well, groaning softly when he sat you skin. "Such a beautiful, pretty girl. Look at you," his hands ran up and down your sides and he took in your body before making eye contact with you again, "Most perfect thing I've ever seen, ya know that?"

He could feel your skin heat up at his comments, watching you squirm. "Take your shorts off, doll." Bucky moved off the bed, kneeling on the floor at the edge, "C'mere." He demanded.

You aren't going to deny him at this point, feeling yourself so tightly wrapped around his finger that you'd follow him into hell if it meant he kept talking to you like this. Once you were close enough, Bucky grabbed your thighs and pulled you to be perched on the edge on the bed, legs on his shoulders with his eyes level with your core.

"Look at this sweet little pussy," he squeezed your thighs tight, "You're fucking glistening, doll." He started pressing kisses to your thighs, avoiding the very apace you needed him at. "Smell fucking divine, I just know you're gonna taste even better."

Bucky watched as you already started fishing the sheets, squirming and biting you lip to hold back any noise. He already decided it was his job to make it impossible for you to hold back. Bucky moved his right hand to interlock with yours, taking his left arm and using it to put pressure on your waist, the cold feel of the prosthetic a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. Just as he squeezed your hand, Bucky licked a thick stripe from your core to your clit, genuinely moaning at the taste.

He wasted no time in drowning himself in your essence. Bucky licked and sucked, offering the occasional nibble, until you were grinding yourself in his face. Once soft gasps and moans were falling freely from you lips, he moved his left hand to your core, the cool digits of his forefinger and ringer figuring prodding your sopping hole. He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking softly as he pushed two fingers in, relishing in the fact that your moans got loud.

Bucky pulled him mouth away, moving to you thighs and sucking hickies into the soft skin while his fingers worked magic. He already knew your body so well, years of working together on intimate missions allowed him to learn how to tell what you liked versus what you loved.

After leaving a few marks, he leaned his head against your thighs, looking up at you through his lashes and watching had your chest rose and fell and you head was thrown back in pure pleasure. "I was fucking right. Taste like honey, could drink you up all fucking day."

He licked a quick stripe again, from where his fingers were to the hilt inside you all the way to your clit. "So, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to continue eating your sweet little pussy until you cum all of face then I'm going to fuck you nice and deep so you feel my cock for days."

He chuckled when he felt your walls flutter around his fingers, "You like the sound of that, pretty girl?" He curled his fingers, hitting the spongy spot that had you gasping for air and eyes rolling into the back of your head. "Look, you're already so close to the edge. You better soak me, baby."

Bucky didn't fall short on his word, getting back to work on your clit with his mouth. His scruff added a nice sensation that bordered on pleasurable pain, fingers moving st the perfect pace and curving expertly, mouth switching between sucking and kitten licks. His right had squeezed your own hand, encouraging you to let go for him.

The pleasure was building quickly, it was intoxicating and inhibition destroying. You leaned up, using your free hand to grab hold of his hair and pull, giving you leverage to grind on his face. Bucky moaned against you, and truly giving you everything he was worth in his determination.

It didn't take much longer for you to fall over the edge, moaning loudly and body convulsing. Your legs squeezed his head as he continued to work you through your orgasm until you fell back, panting for breath.

Bucky pulled away, chuckling softly with a proud look in his face. From his nose down, he was absolutely glistening with your slick, "God you're fucking hot, using my face like that."

Bucky stood, pulling his shorts off, using them to wipe his face some, then tossing them to the side. "Can't wait to see your pretty face when I fill you up. Your gonna take me so good, aren't you?"

You nodded, already getting worked back up. You sat yourself up before he had the chance to grab you, leaning up and carding your hand through his hair again and guiding his lips to yours. You moaned at the taste of your own cum on his lips, reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock, jerking him slowly.

He pulled away from your lips, breathing in sharp. "Uh uh, doll, you can do that another time," he kissed your forehead, a sweet gesture that was a drastic difference to what was currently happening, "Right now, I wanna be buried inside you, making you cum all over me again. Cmon, lay back down for me."

You stole one more kiss before resuming your prior position. Bucky stood at the edge of the bed, pulling you back to the edge and holding your legs spread wide. "You can tell me to stop at any point," he said softly, "but unless you do that, I'm not stopping until you're thoroughly filled with me."

You nodded, offering a desperate, "Please, Bucky. Want all of you," and moving to hold your own legs up as the extra step to prove how much you wanted this.

"So fucking perfect," he groaned out. Bucky grabbed his length, teasing your slit a few times to get his thick tip left before finally pushing in. He was slow, listening to your gasp as he stretched you out so nicely.

Inch by inch, he pushed in until he was bent over you and all the way to the hilt, your lower bodies completely flushed. "You feel fucking amazing around me," he moaned out, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. Just as you were starting to whine, he pulled all the way out before slamming back in, causing you to moan out loudly when you felt him in the deepest parts of you.

Bucky set a brutal but rhythmic pace, changing it ever so slightly until he heard your moans and whines change to be deeper and louder. He moved one of your legs to his shoulder, which somehow allowed him to go even deeper, alternating between full thrusts and grinding against you.

He reached down between the two of you, rubbing circles in your clit with his thumb and watching as your whole body begin to shake with intense pleasure. "Look at you," he moaned out, "Better than my wildest dreams. You gonna cum again for me, already doll?"

He didn't need an answer at this point, he could tell from how your walls were squeezing him that you were close, and as much as he hated to admit it he wasn't far behind you. Bucky kept his movements consistent until he felt you fall over the edge again with a high pitch moan, his hips finally flattering as you squeezed him like a vice, quickly chasing his own high. A few erratic thrusts and he spilled into you with a moan of your name.

Bucky let your legs down, taking a few deep breaths before pulling out of you. He laughed lightly as you whined at the loss of him. He disappeared to the bathroom, cleaning himself up before bringing back a warm, damp wash cloth to wipe you down with. Bucky pressed softly kisses to yoh skin and he wiped you off, kissing your lips before tossing the cloth to the side and climbing into bed with you.

He helped you move back to laying normally in the bed, laughing once he noticed the credits of thie movie were rolling. He wrapped and arm around you, pulling you into his side and letting you get comfortable on him."How you feeling, doll?"

"Good, a little weird, but good." You said, voice drenched in exhaustion.

"Weird how?" He asked, rubbing his fingers up and down your back.

"Good weird. Happy things are gonna be different when we get home."

With how you were laying, you missed the way Bucky smiled down at you, "You don't understand how happy it makes me that I'll get to treat you like this all the time."

"Really?" You asked, already finding it hard to keep your eyes open.

"Doll, I've been yours since the moment I met you, someone was just too stubborn to notice her own feelings." He squeezed your side before going back to rubbing your back, "Get some sleep, we can talk in the morning."

#bucky barnes #marvel #seb stan #marvel smut #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fan fiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #james barnes #james barnes smut

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sweetlyskz · 9 months ago

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Emerald Gem||Chapter Six

Hybrid!OT7 x Fem!Reader

Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one to talk to but the cows and pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stumble upon your deserted farm, everything changes.

Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, fluff

Warnings: SUGGESTIVE, some language, harsh themes

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: Tags list is now CLOSED! Thank you guys for loving this pic <3 lots more to come soon!

Unedited

Your dinner was getting cold. For some reason, you couldn’t pick up the fork. Your hands were too busy gripping the table, bewildered by the sight in front of you.

“Are you going to come greet us or just sit there?” Yoon teased, showing that gummy smile you missed so much. The others were behind him, Jimin laid on Taehyung’s back. You could tell they had been through hell and back. Jin could barely stand on his own two feet, leaning on Hobi for support.

“I- what are you guys doing here?” You never thought you would see them again. Now that they’re here in front of you, you don’t know what to say. Even after all that time practicing what to say if they came back.

Im sorry. Please stay. I missed you.

Instead, you asked “Where’s Namjoon?”

The smile on Yoongi’s face quickly turned into a frown, telling you all you needed to know. Maybe you couldn’t do anything to convince him to stay, maybe Joon was just a lost cause- that’s what you tried to convince yourself anyway.

“I’m so sorry-.” You tried to apologize but Jungkook quickly shut it down with a quick embrace. As soon as you felt his arms wrap around your waist you were at ease. But once he pulled away, you yearned for more. It was just a second, but you still craved it nonetheless.

“Don’t apologize when you have nothing to be sorry for. He made his bed. Now he has to lay in it.”

“Speaking of beds”, Jimin interrupted, apparently lucid enough to speak clearly. “May I go to mine? I haven’t had a proper sleep in weeks…”The guys chuckle at Jimin lack of consciousness. It made you smile knowing they could laugh in dire situations. It comforted you, hearing Jimin call the bed his. It was his bed.

This is his home.

***

After eating dinner, everyone went there separate ways. They were probably looking forward to having a nice, cozy bed all to themselves. You laid in bed trying to rest, but your mind wouldn’t allow it. Yes, you were happy to have the six wanted hybrids back home, but every time you thought about Namjoon your stomach turned from worry. Apparently you weren’t the only one.

“Hey Y/n?” The Bunny hybrid stood in front of your bedroom door holding his favorite black and blue pillow.

“Hey Kook”, you leaned against the headboard, getting a better look at him. He looked frazzled, like there was something on his mind. You know that look all too well. “Can’t sleep?”

He nodded, making his way to the unoccupied side of the bed. He laid down next to you, getting as close to you as he could while holding his pillow to his chest.

“Worried about Namjoon”, he whispered into his pillow. “Never been anywhere without him. Im scared…”

You gently removed the pillow from his chest, replacing it with your warmth. Jungkook immediately relaxed in your embrace, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. You felt like home- nice and warm. You were familiar to him, someone his could call his. Yes, he had the guys, but he grew up with them so it was different. The bond he built with you was new, and easy.

You placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, rubbing his back soothingly. “I know”, you whispered. You of all people know what it’s like to lose someone. You know the feeling of curiosity, the feeling of wondering where your person may be.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find him… I promise.”

You continued to rubbed Kook’s back, soothing him to sleep. There in the darkness, you both laid. It was quiet- serene.

“How did we get so lucky?” He murmured, eyelids fluttering on the brink of sleep. “What did we do to deserve you?”

He fell asleep before you could respond, before you could find the words to answer him. But his question kept you up all night, looking for the right words. How do you tell the person you just met that you’re falling? How do you explain to him that it’s you who was lucky enough to find seven incredibly selfless people.

“You deserve the world”, you whispered, finding comfort in his unconsciousness. “All of you do..”

“I love you. More than you know...”

***

You expected jungkook to be gone when you woke up, but there he was- still laid in your arms. He looked peaceful. Even with the cuts and bruises on his face, he was beautiful. And there it goes again- butterflies in your stomach. It was a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time. The feeling was warm and comfortable, but also scary.

But you couldn’t lay in bed all day, admiring all of Jungkook’s features. The farm needed tending to, and breakfast needed to be made. When you went to sit up, a pair of hands quickly pulled you back down.

“Don’t leave yet”, he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

��Kook”, you sighed, pretending to be irritated. “I’ve gotta go cook and feed the animals. You can come help if you want.”

He shook his head, pouting like a sad little kid. “Hobi already tended to the farm and Yoon made everyone breakfast. Now, lay down with me please.”

“Oh” was all you could say. You didn’t have any other excuse. The guys made sure of that. So you let him cuddle you, the way you did him. And for a while, you laid in his arms peacefully.

“You trust me tight?” Kook questioned.

“With my life”.

He scooted closer to you, putting his head in the crook of your neck. You could feel him breathing on you, making you nervous.

“Just trust me, okay?”

You nodded. “O-okay.”

Taking his sweet time, he placed gentle kisses from your neck to your ear. It had you squirming in anticipation, wondering where his lips would move to next.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now”, he breathed by your ear, running a hand up and down your waist. One hand made its way to your breast, messaging it through your night shirt. You gasp at the sudden feeling, giving him room to connect your lips with his. The kiss was soft and gentle, yet it still made you’re mind go blank. “Namjoon would loose his mind if he knew.”

You pushed away immediately after hearing his name. Namjoon, their pack leader. What would he think about the pack maknae comforting you in your bed? Your stomach turned just thinking about it.

“I should probably go check on the others, it’s a little too quiet”, you thought up an excuse, leaving a dumbfounded Jungkook in your bedroom.

***

As you walked down the creeky stairs, the aroma of pancakes and syrup surrounded you. When you entered the living room, four hybrids sitting on the couch devouring their plate.

“Oh! You’re awake!” Hoseok beamed. “Yoon thought we should wait for you to come down, but I couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s okay”, you smiled. The smell of the morning breakfast was making your stomach growl. Jimin scooted to the edge of the couch, making some room for you to sit.

“Here, grab your plate and you can watch with us”, he offered. The Saturday cartoons were on, Tae’s favorite. Tom and Jerry always made him laugh, and don’t even get him started on road runner.

“Sorry, I can’t. Lots of farm work to do. But let’s play a game outside later!”

Jin, lying down on the other side of the couch, pointed a finger at Hoseok. “Hobi already did it! The silos are full and the chicken coops are clean! I fed the animals too!”

The stairs creaked once more. Jungkook, with his doe eyes and fluffy hair, entered the living room. “Good Morning”, he greeted in his raspy morning voice.

You could feel the butterflies again.

“You sure slept well, didn’t you?” Jimin smirked. “You might want to adjust your self, kook. It’s looking right at me.”

He glared at jimin. “What are you ta- Oh shit.”

If Jimin didn’t say anything, you would’ve never noticed, but now you can’t unsee it- the tent in the bunny hybrids pants. The others laughed at him while you blushed feverishly.

“What were you dreaming about kookie?” Tae teased the youngest.

“More like who was he dreaming about?” Hobi joined in. You couldn’t even think straight. Instead of joining in the taunting banter, you decided to quietly grab a seat and try to wipe the red off your face.

But Jungkook wasn’t going to let you get away so easily.

“Blame Y/n! It’s her fault”, He exclaimed with his back turned adjusting himself. Suddenly all eyes shifted to your side of the couch, and you could no longer hide your embarrassment. And with the embarrassment was also shock.

“I- I didn’t! We never-“ You stuttered trying to find the right words. Was there any right way to explain how you made their pack mate hard? Probably not…

“You worry too much”, Kook huffed, slightly irritated. “You’re our family now. I’m as just as close to you as I am my pack. You practically are apart of us now!”

You tugged at the loose string on your shirt, eyes on the floor as if you had just been scolded. “But Namjoon-“

“Joon will come around eventually”, Jin interjected. “He knows where home is. He’ll make his way back to us soon.”

***

The room felt cold, ice cold. And even though he hadn’t opened his eyes yet, he already knew where he was.

“No! Please, Not again!” Joon begged, body trembling.

The men in white lab coats laughed. “You’re lucky you still alive. We can keep it that way, too! Just tell me where the others are and no one has to get hurt.”

Namjoon laid on the cold white floors, gripping the metal bars caging him in. If the bars weren’t there, everyone in the room would’ve been dead, by his hand. Just hearing the sinister laugh of the people who hurt his pack made him want to tear them into shreds.

“Fuck you!” He spat. He banged and beat on the cell bars, but It was no use. He couldn’t break them. And now he’s in a situation he cannot escape.

And now he’s silently calling you for help.

Please, he begged. Save me!

Taglist (Closed!)

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awzominator · 2 months ago

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Day 30!!! AAAAHHHH WE MADE IT!!!!!! THIS EVENT WAS SO FUN AND EVERYONE DID SO WELL!!!!! ❤️💜🧡💙

These designs were a Meet the Robinsons AU that I fumbled Bc I got overwhelmed w options fjsjjd Mikey was Goob (kinda?) and RaMona kids went back in time to hunt him down to make their fam whole again. It spirals Bc the hat (Doris) still exists and was invented by Donnie. She still wanted revenge on Donnie (and Leo and Raph) Bc they tried to “kill” her. Alas I got lost in the details and plot so I had to drop it 😔 anyways more info on the kids below

Jennika: Just as Raphael was his father’s son Jennika is her father’s daughter. Both the good and the not so good qualities jumbled together to make him go Gray as he had done for Splinter. I love seeing the analysis where ppl show Raph and Splinter were near copies of eachother and wanted to play on that with Jennika. The story will be diff obvi as Jennika won’t be a raphael clone that’d be boring. She has her own dreams and destiny which conflict w Raphael’s overprotective parenting and worry which went overdrive after Mikey’s disappearance.

Venus: imagine living in the shadow of someone ya never even met and ur constantly second guessing if ur acting in such a way in order to keep ur fam happy or if u r truly living as urself. Rip to Venus she is a ray of sunshine and optimism with a flair for rustling up good natured trouble which often invokes her loved ones to draw connections to Mikey. Venus is a people pleaser to a drastically toxic point where she’ll ignore all of her own issues and worth so long as her loved one(s) are doing ok. Shes learning magic from Shinigami and is killing it ✨

Y’thann: most likely to plan and win an all out war! He’s very analytical and quick thinker however he’s the most arrogant little shit you would ever meet. No one would ever believe you tho as he’s also an incredible lair and a momma’s boy. Often found hanging around Uncle Donnie’s lab learning and building tech and weapons. He prefers salamandrian stuff and loves training with his mother. He gets away with so much Jennika loathes him for it as she is constantly thrown under the bus for it.

Koya is their cool/insane older cousin. Sorry Koya fans she isn’t a mutant but she does have a pet falcon named Koya JR.

April/Donnie/Casey have a kid that Casey found and took home but never designed her rip

Leo has the highest honor of being AroAce w no children Bc he’s got a hoard of nieces and nephews to train and care for

Not the best description but that’s the jist my notes on this are all over the place as I slowly lost my mind and plot

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2012 #tmnt future au #tmntember #tmnt2012artchallenge #12yearsoftmnt2012 #tmntember2024 #awzominator art #Tmnt oc #tmnt au #was super inspired by Biscute’s ShellShocked and Melon’s Wedding Bells and Magic Portals #Both are incredible stories and at the time everyone had like turtle tot fever or smthn so I joined the bandwagon in secret

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crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington · 9 months ago

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for your "Eveline in back AU", why does she almost call Mia mom??

OK REAL QUICK!

this is my view on mia and evelines relationship!

i do NOT think they could have any sort of comfortable relationship after the events of re7

if u have a different opinion thats ok but dont get mad at me!

i think they would both hae a lot of conflicting feelings about what happened, mia a lot of guilt and regret and eveline with a lot of bitterness and resent

i think mia would blame both herself and eveline for what happened to the bakers and ethan and she would feel very guilty, though she does know that eveline was a source of a lot of the pain and violence, i dont think she would be able to just adopt her as her new daughter in my eveline is back AU which is why despite the fact i plug really any ship i want into that AU i have trouble making comics/drawings where the main ship in it is mithan

i really just dont think they would be able to comfortably live with each other, they relationship is too strained and broken, i really dont think mia would be able to just get over the fact that she was imprisoned for 3 years and forced to try and kill her husband by this little girl and then ADOPT said little girl

it just doesnt make sense to me 😅

giving eveline a second chance is a fun concept to explore but it wont work with EVERYONE

as for the reason eveline almost slips up and calls mia "mom", thats because i belive that despite the fact mia made it clear that she did not want to play a part in evelines "family" she is STILL like the first person eveline imprinted on. she still wants that perfect family with the mom and the dad but she knows she cant have it and it makes her really bitter and angry. she wanted mia to be her mom and do things the way she wanted and be a happy family but its so complicated and it really frustrates her

#crumbessage #mia winters #eveline re7 #eveline is back AU

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sunarc · 1 year ago

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After Hours

𝖘𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖊 1

toji x reader

Synopsis: What happens when you meet someone willing to make all you naughty dreams come true?

CW: virginity loss, corruption kink, size kink, alcohol consumption, shy reader, toji is a player, cum eating, Shiu is being a daddy in this per usual, modern au, afab reader, bar owner toji, 5.1k words, please let me know if i missed anything

A/N:I’m so happy to present day 1 of Kinktober!!! I’m so excited for y’all to read please enjoy!

You sipped your drink to the sound of rock music playing loudly from the speakers. You watched as hot sweaty bodies crowded around a pool table swinging money in the air while yelling out bets. The bar was lively, it was loud and there you sat, quietly at the end of the bar, watching everyone, enjoying the show. The bar had people from all walks of life come through. Some would come through and tell you stories you could never imagine, some telling you of where they were headed and some just a little sleezy looking for a quick fuck. You were never the type for hookups. You honestly couldn’t imagine being with a random stranger for one fun night. You enjoyed being in this space. It was fun to see so many different people and get to experience another’s life just for a few minutes.

“I can’t possibly imagine doing something so scary like that” you said, shocked listening to the story being told by the big figure sitting in front of you smoking a cigarette.

“You wouldn’t believe all of the crazy things I’ve done sweetheart” he pulled a long drag from his cigarette then turned to you.

“You got any stories?” he asked

“Who? Me? I- uh no I don’t really do much” you fumbled over your words suddenly becoming nervous by the question.

It was true, you didn’t really do much. You were honestly as innocent as they come. You didn’t drink, not because you thought it was bad but more so because the taste of alcohol was quite repulsive. You had never had a boyfriend before, hell you had never engaged in sex before. You just never found someone worth giving yourself away to. The idea was honestly scary. Having to get naked and show your body to another person was honestly scary yet something about it felt so intriguing. Something about sleeping with someone and having them take you in ways you wouldn’t dare speak about out loud was almost thrilling. You shook the thought away.

“I really mostly like to just hear about other people’s stories, I find them fascinating really.” You said, giving a shy smile.

He nodded his head silently taking in your words.

“Hm, I guess I could understand” he took a drag finishing his cigarette. “But what about living?”

You gave a confused look.

Living?

“What do you mean, I am living?” the question almost sounded silly

“No, you're listening to other people live. You’re basically living vicariously through other people.” He scoffed. “Why not enjoy the thrills of life yourself instead of hearing it from other people?”

The question left you speechless. You sat staring at the man's mouth slightly open unsure of what to say.

Why weren’t you living?

You went to work and came to this hole in the wall bar every night just to listen to stories and drink juice. When were you going to be the one telling the stories?

“You bothering my customers Shiu?” a loud voice interrupted your thoughts.

Toji, the bar owner, walked over to the two of you cleaning a glass with a smirk.

“Bothering? I could never. I think that might be your job.” he chuckled.

“How you doing pretty? Need another drink?” Toji asked, looking down at your almost empty glass.

“Hi Toji, I’m well today. I’d love another juice thankyou” you said smiling softly.

Ever since you first walked into the bar Toji had been as kind as ever. His smile was always inviting. He was tall, buff and handsome. He always left you feeling starstruck as he moved behind the counter muscles flexing in his tight shirt smiling handsomely at customers as they handed him large tips. He always gave you free drinks mostly because you only ordered juice. He was even nice enough to let you stay after closing and keep him company while he cleaned and told you stories of before he owned the bar.

“Your friend wasn’t bothering me” you said as he handed you a full glass. “I was probably bothering him,” you laughed.

Toji smiled and leaned forward on his elbows.

“I’m sure a pretty girl like you could never bother anyone.”

You looked down smiling at the remark. Toji was a big flirt with everyone. If a pretty girl walked in and looked like she had big pockets he would somehow always flirt his way into an unusually large tip.

“I was just offering a little advice,” Shiu said as he pulled out another cigarette, putting it between his lips.

“Last time you gave someone advice they died” Toji commented as he fixed a drink for a regular.

“They took it a little too literally, that isn’t my fault” he lit the cigarette pulling a long drag.

The two bantered back and forth arguing over his advice.

“He actually told me something really helpful” You interrupted.

“Oh yeah and what was it exactly?” Toji leaned over the counter dangerously close to you. He bit his lip as he stared at you waiting for you to answer. You shied away suddenly feeling nervous under his gaze.

“I- well it was just about me living life that’s all” you stumbled over your words.

Toji smirked at you

“Now why would he say such a thing doll?” he seemed intrigued as he sat up and poured a shot for himself and Shui.

“I guess , well , I’m just not living out my fantasies…” your voice died out towards the end of your sentence.

“Not living out your fantasies?” Toji rested his head in his hand with a smirk playing on his face.

“Tell me more about that” his voice was low as he asked for more. You sat in front of him watching his movements almost hypnotized by the way he spoke so smoothly. Toji was an intimidating guy. No matter how many nights you spent sitting chatting with him about any and everything you never failed to grow nervous under his dark gaze.

“I uh I shouldn’t talk too much about it” you let out a nervous chuckle.

Toji sat up letting out a small sigh.

“All right then, keep your secrets,” he laughed.

You gave a shy smile before sipping your drink. It would have been hard to admit in front of two obviously attractive men that you fantasized about losing your virginity. The topic seemed so taboo. You could imagine them pushing for more details. Why hadn’t you lost your virginity? What are you waiting for? Are you some kind of saint, too good for sex?None of the above. The right person just hasn’t come along yet, someone to send chills through your body just from their voice. You wanted someone who would make you feel something, someone worth it. You sat in silence stuck on the previous conversation. You hadn’t noticed the bar slowly emptying out. Drunk bodies stumbled out slurring words as they called their rides.

“You sticking with me, pretty girl?” Toji’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

You nodded your head with a small smile, it wouldn’t hurt having another late night conversation with Toji while he closed.You looked around noticing Shui pulling out his last cigarette before throwing back the rest of his drink.

“I’m leaving you, two have a good night” he turned to you “I meant what I said live a little, kid”

“Hey what about me Shiu got any advice for me ?” he teased

Shiu walked to the door before turning around

“Hm, actually yes, go to hell” he smirked and left without another word.

Toji scuffed as he wiped down the counter.

“Asshole,” he mumbled.

You laughed at the encounter and looked around at the now empty bar. It was nice to look at apart from the scattered beer and glasses. The bar had nice decor, it was one of the main factors that attracted you to the place.

“So any new stories for me?” you asked, watching as Toji came from behind the counter with a broom sweeping the place.

“You like my stories that much?” he asked, half his attention on you, half on cleaning.

“You spun around on the bar stool laughing to yourself at the childish action.

“I think you have fun things to say” you thinking to yourself for a moment “And well I guess I really like your voice” you mumbled the last part.

Toji chuckled, stopping his actions. He looked at you with a smirk.

“You like my voice huh?”

You looked away suddenly embarrassed by your confession.

“I mean well you- it” you stammered

“It’s okay doll” Toji walked closer to you lowering his voice in the process.

“I could talk all you want” he said “ But I’d more so like to hear something about you” he said as he came close standing between your legs as you sat facing him on the stool.

“Something about me?” you asked slightly confused.

“Yeah, I mean you sit with me while I clean all the time and you listen to me go on and on about stories for days yet, you never talk to me about yourself.” he said leaning closer to you.

Your breath hitched feeling the heat from his body as he closed the space between you two.

“For example I’d love to continue that conversation from earlier, you know the one about those fantasies of yours.”

He leaned down eye level to you just a breath away. His lips were only inches away from yours. You wanted to lean in just to see how soft his lips would be. Would he taste like alcohol or something sweeter? How soft would his lips be? You leaned into him only for him to reach behind you picking up the spray bottle and rag. He walked away with a smirk and began wiping down tables.

“Talk to me doll” he said “ I mean I’ve told you so many things before it's only fair you tell me a secret or two” his voice was sensual. It sent tingles through your body to your core. You crossed your legs squeezing tight at the sound.

“Well” you said contemplating if you should speak your thoughts.

Toji stopped his cleaning to look at you

“It's just us two here, you can tell me anything” he said softly.

You looked around as if you’d somehow find someone sitting in the corner listening in. To no surprise the room was empty apart from Toji’s large muscular body standing a few feet away from you.

“I guess I just fantasize about losing my virginity,” you said, voice fading away.

You felt embarrassed at your confession. You wanted to hide away. Lose your virgin, what a foolish fantasy. Why not something like travel the world or start a business, that’s a real fantasy but no there you sat legs crossed squeezed searching for friction. “I mean- well there's more but I well” your words seemed to scramble as you spoke. Toji stood in front of you smiling at your truth.

“I think that’s a cute fantasy.” he said

He leaned against the table and folded his arm.

“I’d love to hear more about this…” he bowed his head, hiding his smile, “fantasy,” he said finishing his sentence.

“What? More?” you almost yelled shocked by his words

He licked his lips while making eye contact.

“Yeah” he repeated “More”

He got up from the table and began to roam around the room with a sigh.

“I mean there’s gotta be something more to this little fantasy of yours”

He walked over to you fiddling with the edge of your skirt. His fingers brushed against your skin making you feel hot all over.

“What is it, do you have some fantasy of getting tied up for your first time?”

His fingers danced across your skin. He looked down concentrated on his hand movements.

“Or do you just want a nice big cock to stretch you out?”

His words went straight to your core. You were too shocked by the vulgarity of it all to say anything. No one had ever spoken to you like that before. No one’s words had ever made you throb the way his did.He chuckled at your silence. Toji stepped away and went back to cleaning. You almost had the urge to snatch his arm and drag him back to you. You could never see yourself being that brave though.

“Well what about you?” you muttered too shy to speak up.

“Hm? Me?” he asked looking up from his task.

“Oh well I’ve got a few fantasies I guess” He stood with a concentrated look thinking about his own fantasies.

Your mind was running a relay race imagining the lewd words that could possibly come from him. At the same time you wondered what he could possibly fantasize about? What had he not done? You leaned forward intrigued with what he would say.

“Tell me,” you said, eyes wide with interest.

He laughed at your eagerness

“You really wanna know?” he asked, leaning against the table.

You nodded your head, excitement coursing through you.

“I do,” you said in a hushed voice.

Toji walked to you leaving his rag behind. His footsteps seemed so loud in the empty room. He filled up so much space with confidence alone.

“I guess I have that same fantasy”

His finger traced your jawline while his eyes stared deep into yours.

“I’ve been thinking about it alot lately,” he said as he licked his lips. “I can't stop thinking about how good it would feel stretching out a fresh virgin hole. The thought of making someone so innocent beg for my cock while I fuck them dumb” his bit his lip and looked down towards your plump ones “That shit just drives me crazy doll”

Your breath hitched as he spoke. You couldn’t help the throbbing that went to your core. The thought of having someone like Toji give you everything you ever desired sent shivers through you. You knew he’d make you feel better than any toy you had could ever make you feel. The way his lips looked so wet and soft, the way his muscles strained against his shirt, how he always smelled good always made your heart beat so hard you were sure he could hear. You sat starstruck, unable to form the words you wanted to say. Hell, you didn’t even know what to say. Would you beg him to fuck you, to take your virginity right then and there? Would you tell him that's nice and try to change the subject? No you had to take chances,

Live a little kid

You heard Shiu’s words replay in your mind like a record.

Now was the time to live a little.

“You got something on your mind?” Toji asked as if he was just waiting for you to say the word.

“I can help” the words flew out your mouth at the speed of light.

You wanted to hide away after hearing yourself. Help what? Clean? You couldn't pull yourself together.

Toji hummed satisfied with your answer.

“You want to help?” he asked “Are you asking me to bend you over and fuck you in this bar?”

He leaned in to whisper the words in your ear. Hearing him say it out loud almost felt wrong.

“I do- I mean I am- wait I mean” you fumbled over your words too overcome with embarrassment to function.

Toji’s laughter caught you off guard. He grabbed you by the jaw and pulled you in for a kiss. The kiss was wet. He tasted so sweet even though he had been drinking. His lips were soft. So soft you felt yourself melting into him. Your hands gripped the side of the stool almost tearing at the leather. Toji’s hand moved down to your neck pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. His kiss was delicate yet was filled with hunger. His fingers danced up your skirt feeling the heat between your legs.

“No panties huh, you’re not as innocent as i thought” he smiled as he inched his fingers closer to your core feeling the way you were practically leaking.

“This can’t possibly be your first go around. You come in wearing these short skirts” he pressed a kiss to your neck and licked a long strip up to your jaw.

“You're wearing nothing underneath. I bet you were just begging for someone like me to peek and see that pretty little pussy dripping all over my seats.”

You were left in a daze from his fingers just barely brushing against where you needed him most to how he sucked your neck leaving your skin feeling raw. His scent filled your every waking being. He was all that you could feel, see, touch, smell. It was almost as if he had become the only person left in the world and all that you wanted was for him to touch you; to touch you in ways no one had ever done before. You needed him. Your mind was desperately pleading for him to slip his fingers inside of you, to feel your gummy walls and finally give you the pleasure that you were desperately clinging onto him for.

“Please touch me” you whimpered out.

Your voice felt so weak. You were so needy for him, your fingers dug into his arm pulling him closer.

“Such a needy little thing” he chuckled

His fingers moved along your legs teasing you with every touch.

“I need more than that love. Where do you need me” he voiced with his head still in the crook of your neck sucking and licking at your skin.

You grabbed his hand, dragging it up your thigh to place it between your folds. Words seemed to fail you so taking action was your only choice.

“Here”

Toji smiled at your courage. His fingers maneuvered up and down your core feeling how wet you were. He rubbed soothing circles onto the bundle of nerves earning him a soft moan from you.

“Have you ever been stuffed with someone’s fingers?” he asked in a low voice

You shook your head while meeting his eyes.Toji free hand grabbed your jaw.

“Words Princess”

“No,” you whimpered.

Your answer seemed to have a strong effect on him. The thought of watching your innocence slip away from you at his hand was enough to have his cock straining against his pants.

“I’m gonna put a finger in and I’ll let you know each time I do just so you don’t get all shy on me when your pussy’s sucking my fingers in” he smiled.

His thumb kept a steady pace rubbing quick circles while he slipped his first finger into your hole.

“That’s it” he said, rocking his finger in and out of your eyes watching the way your mouth widened to an ‘o’ shape while moans spilled past your lips.

“You like that?” He placed a wet kiss on your lips.”Pussy feels so tight baby, I wonder how you’re gonna take my cock”

You let out a whine while your hips grinded down onto his hand.

“More please, I need more”

Toji’s eyes lit up at your words.

“Oh? My nasty girl wants more huh” He smirked “I’m putting in a second finger now dirty girl, I’ll give you what you want”

His second finger slipped in with ease. A gasp escaped your lips as he filled you up groaning at the way your hole squeezed around his fingers.

“So wet for me doll.” His breath ghosted against your lips as his fingers continued to fuck in and out of you making a mess below you. You let out weak moans and gasp. This feeling of his fingers massaging your gummy walls was something you had never experienced before. You felt the world revolving around you. Your heart was racing in your chest. Everything seemed so loud at that moment. The way his breaths sounded sharp as his fingers picked up speed. The drips of water from the sink he had left running after washing dishes, The cars speeding by not noticing how you were falling apart giving yourself away to him. If a car were to slow down just for a few seconds it would have been so easy to just peek into the window to see how your legs were spread open. Your hips were grinding down onto him. It would have been so easy just to see how much of a mess you were making for his fingers. That seemed to send a thrill through you, having some unknown stranger turn their head and watch you lose your virginity and take a cock for the first time.

“God, it feels so good” you let out a loud gasp unable to contain yourself.

The feeling of him dipping his fingers into you was so overwhelming you thought you might lose your mind. You had never touched yourself like this before. You always stayed away from fucking your self with you fingers to afraid to stick a finger in always preferring to massage your clit. Little did you know the desire and pleasure that would come with having someone shove their fingers deep into you, you were practically drooling from the feeling. You felt a pit forming in your stomach the feeling so foreign all you could do was moan and curse about how good he felt.

“Come on doll” Toji rasped out “ Give it to me, make me proud, show me how pretty you look making a mess on my fingers.”

His words were enough to send you spiraling. You let out loud unfiltered moans. This was new, something better than ever. You wanted- no craved more. This feeling of ecstasy felt like a drug taking over you. You let out heavy breathes as you came down from your high.

“Don’t think we’re done just yet doll, I want you to take your first cock” Toji said as he lifted you bringing you to the table he had just wiped down.

He pulled your shirt up exposing your breast and pulled a nipple into his mouth. You let out a long moan feeling his hot tongue swivel around your nipple. His mouth felt so warm. His hand squeezed and massaged your other breast as he let out a groan. He pulled your skirt off and threw it in a nearby corner.

“You won't be needing that” He said as he took your body in.

He pulled his cock free from his pants and your eyes went wide. Not only was he big, he was thick. You sat staring with a slack jaw fearful that his two fingers weren’t enough to make him fit. He stroked his cock as he rubbed circles on your clit.

“Look at what you do to me doll” he said, voice strained. “Got me so fucking hard I can’t wait to make your pussy cream”

He pushed you down so that your back was laying flat against the table. His arms wrapped around your thighs to pull you to the edge of the table. He rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit sending shivers through your body.

“Look at you, being so good for me, you ready to take your first cock” he licked his lips staring at your glistening cunt “You ready to make a real mess for me baby?”

The tip of his cock prodded at your hole just barely entering.

“It- It’s too big” you whimpered watching as he held his cock rubbing it through your folds.

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll make it fit” he said, eyes never leaving your hole.

He inched his cock into you achingly slowly watching how your pussy sucked him in taking all that he was giving you. Toji’s eyes rolled back, feeling how tight you were squeezing around him. He had known you'd be tight but never did he imagine you’d have him ready to cum just from sinking himself into you. He stilled inside of you just admiring the warmth and tightness of you. He took a deep breath to gather himself.

“Fuck you feel so good” he whispered the words and you almost didnt hear him.

“I’m gonna take it nice and slow for you princess”

He moved his hips in a slow motion watching the way your face moved from being scrunched up in pain to eyes rolling back enjoying the pleasure of being stuffed full.

“You like that shit” he asked as he rolled his hips into you slowly. His cock felt so delicious inside of you. You wanted this feeling forever. He filled you up so perfectly. You couldn’t fathom the idea of having anyone else fill you up like this. The way his hips rolled into yours meeting your hips with a soft slap left you gasping for air.

“Breathe baby breath” he rubbed soothing circles into your hips.

You sucked in a shaky breath not realizing you had been holding your breath focusing solely on the pleasure of him.

“Come on baby let me hear those moans, I want to hear how you sound taking your first cock” he squeezed your hips as he rocked into you. Toji was holding back. He bit his lip trying to contain himself. He didn’t want to destroy you for your first time. It was taking everything in him not to absolutely wreck you. He made a mental note to himself that the next time he stuffed his cock into you, he’d leaving you a drooling fucked out mess but for now he would be content with just watching the way you’d fall apart taking him your first time.

“Tell me how it feels” he leaned down to pepper wet kisses from your collar to your neck. “First time being so full, tell me where you feel me baby talk to me”

You could barely breathe properly and now you were trying to form sentences.

“So good ugh I feel it all in my tummy it's so big” you slurred.

Your moans were so loud any person walking by would have a perfect show to watch. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about any lingering stares that could possibly be watching through the window. Your mind wandered off to thoughts of someone sneaking looks through the window, digging their hand in their pants and getting off to you creaming on your first cock. What a lewd thought. Your whimpers seemed to repeat like a broken record. You couldn’t help but moan and beg him for more.

“Faster please I need more” you whimpered, hardly able to contain yourself as you bucked your hips upwards into him.

“You sure doll, I don't think I’ll be able to stop if I do” his voice was gruff as he fucked you in a slow pace.

“Please” you begged “I need you so bad”

Toji bit his lip. He grabbed your legs pulling them up so your ankles could rest on his shoulder. He rubbed your stomach feeling where his cock was inside of you. His hands massaged your skin as he grabbed your calf kissing your ankle.

“Be a good girl and take everything I give you then, hm?”

His cocked slammed into you at a pace you did not expect. His hips met yours with a loud slap. Toji’s eyes scanned your body watching every movement. Your back arched off the table as you moaned so loud your voice echoed off the walls.

“Look so pretty taking cock” he groaned “ Mean to tell me I’m the first one to get to see you like this”

His thrust were relentless slamming into you “This sight is too pretty to share.” His thumb rubbed circles onto your clit as he rocked his hips into you.

“That’s it taking me so well doll” His words were going straight to your core.

You could barely form sentences, only strained moans and slurred versions of his name. Your body seemed to fall apart for him. The table under you rocked back and forth with his thrust. If you had half a mind you would be worried that it would break but all you could think of was how you were about to cum. You felt a warmth in your stomach as he fucked you.

“Come one Princess I want you to cum with me. I want to see how messy you get for the first time” his words had your eyes rolling back. You felt so weak barely able to do anything but cum on his cock. Your body didn’t feel like yours. You had never came so hard in your life. He was covered in your juices, soaked from all that you had to give him. Toji’s eyes were looking down focused on the way his cum mixed with yours covered his cock. His movements slowed as he fucked the cum inside of you.

“I don’t like being wasteful” he said as two fingers covered in cum moved between your lips. You sucked his fingers obediently without a second thought. You were in such a daze you would have done anything for him.

“You were so good for me” his voice was low as he leaned down placing kisses on your lips.

Toji felt his heart growing warm. He had never felt so soft for someone before.With any other girl who would have already been zipping up his pants and ordering them a ride but for you it felt different. He wanted to fulfill every fantasy you had. He wanted to be the only one watching you cum. It was either him or nothing at all. You were just too perfect to share. From the way your chest moved trying to catch your breath to the way your plump lips sat open wet from drool had his heart feeling like it might beat out of his chest.

“I want to make all those nasty fantasies of yours come true.” He whispered, kissing your skin cock still stuffed inside of you.

“I want to be the only one to get to see you like this”

🏷️: @karazorel7 , @candyceedea , @fleurettiie , @pressuredtreasure , @plaxxxie , @cloud-lyy , @fictionalthirsting , @smuttyfantasyrecs , @enchantedcherie , @coyloves , @baldi-2 , @pickledwasp , @sanxuus , @fictionsimp , @ibby-miyoshi-nerd , @kiqqnii , @snazzyturtles , @sadlittle-girl , @faumpje , @nvvacanesworld , @no-f34r

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chocosvt · 4 months ago

Text

HER | part three (m).

✧✎ synopsis: wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you. unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo can’t see this going well. at all.

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader word count: 24.8k genres/tropes: writer!wonwoo, university!au, plug!vernon + boyfriend!mingyu as prominent side characters, SLOWBURN (i am not fucking around this is my slowest burn yet), relationship drama, soul searching, strong angst/hurt (i’m coming for the jugular), comfort, romance, smut, a smoothie of every emotion on earth.

(!) warnings: drug use (weed, cocaine, ecstasy), wonwoo has anxiety + anxiety attacks + fairly dark thoughts, prescribed medication, gambling, intense language, infidelity, throwing up.

✧✎ a/n: just some quick things i want to make apparent!

the fic is told from wonwoo’s pov, not the reader’s!

all major timeline events are organized through chronological dates

any smut or potentially triggering scenes are NOT MARKED bc the content is already quite mature, so just plz be aware of that!

bolded and italicized text implies the characters are conversing in korean, tho it doesn’t happen often!

the fic in its entirety is 140k, so it has been split into 6 parts.

THE MIDWAY POINT 🎉 now i've just gotta prepare the last 3 parts! this is a chunkier chapter. it contains one of the longest scenes i've ever written (not even the full thing lol, it had to be split). but you'll see why, a lot had to "occur" :p

happy reading!! 💕

⇢ part one | part two | part four | part five | part six ⇢ soundtrack for those curious! ⇢ read at ur own pace! :)

“Holy fuck—you really did lose your shoe.”

He hadn’t actually noticed until you were both inside his dim apartment, puddles of water now forming on the floorboards.

“I told you!”

Looking down, you had on just a black, sodden sock. With a suctioning and uncomfortably wet squelch, you managed to toe off your remaining sneaker, flinging it carefully onto the shoe mat.

Wonwoo did the same.

Thunder continued rumbling outside, with lightning hitting no more than a few seconds after. The strikes were like white knives in the sky, ripping and shearing apart the storm clouds of summer humidity.

“Jesus,” you huffed, hands moulding down your face to wipe away all the droplets, “I can’t believe you got me to run, first of all. Second of all, I can’t tell if I absolutely hated or thoroughly enjoyed that.”

“I liked it,” Wonwoo said.

“Of course you did.”

He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a dish towel to begin cleaning off his glasses and phone, not caring about all the water he was dragging so liberally everywhere. Once Wonwoo fit the frames back to his face, he was able to clearly see you still standing by the door, and he appreciated that you didn’t want to make a mess of his living room even though it wouldn’t matter to him one teensy tiny bit.

Your fingers picked in a distracted manner at the clusters of your dripping hair, meanwhile soft, watery mascara dappled down your arched cheeks, framing you akin to a detailed and evocative painting. That hemmed, white t-shirt was clinging in soaked wrinkles to your heaving torso and chest, revealing subtle imprints of all the bare skin underneath. And Wonwoo found himself looking. Not in a lecherous, tainted way, but in the simple fact that you were…

He suddenly bit down on his inner cheek, curled his hand into a fist where he could easily dig at the scars on his thumb.

To Wonwoo, you were so indescribably beautiful, standing near his doorway, soaked to the bone in the rebirth of rainfall.

He had always thought you were pretty, but in that moment, he knew it was more than just that—it was a realization that stopped the breath in his lungs and the heavy beats his heart was just barely making. At least, that was how it felt. Wonwoo sensed his panic flare up for a split second, and then it simmered away into casual nervousness. Before his eyes could linger long enough to get caught, he remembered to take a deep inhale and reground his thoughts. You stopped fiddling with your hair and sniffled.

“Um, is it okay if I jump in your shower? I mean—well, it’s your place, so if you want to get yourself sorted first, that’s fine.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind at all.”

You smiled back at him, adjusting the small leather bag strewn over your shoulder. He hoped your journal wasn’t soaked.

“Are you sure?”

“Well—okay, let me just run into my room and grab some clothes. I’ll dry off real quick in the washroom and change. I promise it’ll take me less than like, five minutes.”

“That’s probably best. I’ll just keep standing here.”

Hopping his way across the apartment, Wonwoo made it into his bedroom where he began ripping open the dresser drawers, pulling out some basic clothes like sweatpants and a hoodie. Then, he slipped into the washroom, peeling all the sopping, disgustingly sticky articles from his body and throwing them into the sink. Once he rubbed off with a towel, Wonwoo quickly got dressed—probably the fastest he’d ever put on clothes in his entire life. You were still standing patiently by the door when Wonwoo returned to the living room, having dumped his wet outfit into the laundry hamper.

“I’m making a colossal sized puddle right now.” You laughed.

“Ha—that’s okay,” Wonwoo answered, handing you a clean towel he’d pulled from his toiletries closet. “I’ll take care of it.”

You started walking toward the corridor, and then stopped.

“Do you think you have any clothes that might fit me? It’s just—I obviously don’t want to wear this again," you said, gesturing to the t-shirt and long skirt damply flush to your figure.

“Oh, yeah. I’ll look through my dresser and closet and pick out some stuff—you can see which fits best. I’ll throw your clothes and mine into the laundry as well—get it all clean and warmed up.”

“I’d love that, thank you.”

While you started undressing in his washroom, Wonwoo began sorting through all the clothes he had, pulling out older t-shirts and even some shorts, though he knew they most likely wouldn’t fit you. He heard you turn on the shower and wait for it to start heating.

Once Wonwoo was satisfied with all the options he’d picked, he knocked a few times on the washroom door. It was pulled open rather quickly, and he saw you standing in the threshold of thickening, hot steam, holding the spare towel closed at your chest.

“For you. There’s a whole bunch of sizes.”

“Okay, thank you so much. Do you want my clothes?”

“Yeah—that’s all of it?”

“Mmhm.”

“Okay. Take your time. I’m gonna run to the basement and get these in the laundry. I’ll probably be back up in like, five minutes. If you need anything else, just shout. I’ll be able to hear it.”

Wonwoo wasn’t sure how long it took you to shower, mostly because he was too occupied with looking out the windowpanes from his seat at the couch, watching the downpour continue, the evening dimness that flooded the room, and the liquified twinkling of city lights flickering behind all the rain. However, once you emerged from his bedroom and padded into the living area, dressed in a dark blue, logoed shirt from the neatly folded pile he’d handed you, Wonwoo had snapped back to the present. You smiled at him, and he saw that your face was now cleaned of the runny mascara and makeup.

“Oh—uh, our clothes are still in the laundry.”

“That’s okay,” you answered while walking around the coffee table. “I knew they wouldn’t be done right away. I’m fine to wait.”

Wonwoo proceeded to sit up straighter against the couch, rather than his slouched, wide spread position that he’d unconsciously sunk into before when staring vacantly into the rain.

“And, uh—just so you know, I’m wearing an embarrassing lack of clothes right now,” you admitted through your teeth, taking a ginger seat beside him. “So, like, not that I’m saying you’re going to be weird about it ‘cause I know you won’t be, but, do you have a blanket or something that I can toss over my lap?”

Immediately, Wonwoo got up from the couch.

“Yeah, there’s one in my room. I’ll grab it.”

He saw that your bag was also left in his bedroom, so he took it out with him, a few remaining droplets still bulbed on the surface.

“It’s probably not as soft as the one at your place.”

“Doesn’t matter.” You flapped the blanket out and settled it primly over your legs. “And thanks for grabbing my bag, too.”

Wonwoo collapsed back onto the sofa.

“I hope your journal’s not ruined.”

After fishing around inside the pouch, you pulled out your phone, and then the leather notebook, which was completely dry.

“Oh, thank God. I’d actually be so pissed if it was wet, probably more so than my phone.” You flipped through the pages, feeling for any splotches or tears. “I prevail, after all.”

Wonwoo smiled, and fluffed a hand through his hair.

“If you decide to stay longer because the rain won’t let up, I can always try to make you supper, or something. I can’t promise that it will be the best meal of your life, but I’m not that incompetent.”

“Oh—but what if I want something extravagant?” You smirked while flitting through your text messages. “Like buttery lobster with garlic mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables?”

He scratched under the pad of his glasses.

“Is that what you usually eat?”

“No. Only when I’m feeling super fancy. I force Mingyu to cook it for me because he’s good at that stuff. Really, I shouldn’t have to ask him—” you glanced at Wonwoo, smiling, “—he should just do it.”

“Well, if you decide to stay, I can make the next best thing.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

Looking into his kitchen, Wonwoo laughed at himself.

“Ramen.”

“Oh! I actually love ramen,” you exclaimed, shuffling up your legs under the blanket. “And I would totally stay, but I promised Princess that I’d come to her new place at six o’clock-ish to help do some unpacking. Once my clothes are all done, I’ll probably get her to come pick me up. I don't know when the rain's gonna stop."

“That’s fine,” Wonwoo replied with an accepting, warm expression, even though on the inside, he was rotting in disappointment because he would have given anything for you to stay and eat supper, maybe watch a movie afterward, order ice cream.

He hated when you would leave. It left him to swim alone with his own thoughts—mostly consumed by you—and dreadfully wait until he could see or hear from you again. As Wonwoo stared off into space, he felt the phone in his pocket buzz.

It was a text from Vernon.

[ Vernon | 5:05 pm ]: hey sir-dork-a-lot

[ Vernon | 5:05 pm ]: you asked her about the party yet?!

Fuck. The stupid party. The Solar Pop incident with Mingyu.

Wonwoo had completely forgot that was somehow supposed to wedge his way into receiving an invite, when he didn’t even want to go in the first place. Parties genuinely weren’t his scene.

Especially the kind that Mingyu and his friend, Seungcheol, would throw. But, at the same time, there was this very small seed of curiosity planted in his stomach—that, maybe, Wonwoo should just shoulder off his hatred of loud, cramped spaces and obnoxious university students chugging all their drinks straight from the bottle. If he just tried his best to stay calm, stay level-headed, breathe, then perhaps Wonwoo could survive a night partying with Vernon, as fucking ridiculous and deluded as it sounded.

He glanced over at you, who was texting someone.

God. Did he really want to ruin this calm, comfortable moment right now to ask about your boyfriend’s big slosh-fest?

“So, I noticed in your schedule, like, two weeks into June, you’re gonna be off the call for three days, I think.”

You scratched your cheek, continuing to text.

“Oh, yeah. I thought I already brought that up, but maybe I’m thinking of a conversation with someone else.” Shutting off your phone, you started sliding it around the blanket while talking. “It’s this big party that Mingyu’s helping to host with his friend from basketball, Seungcheol. I don't know if you're familiar with him. They do it every summer. It’s always so much fun, but I get so fucked up that I need at least two days recovery.”

Wonwoo swallowed, feeling how dry his throat was.

“Yeah. I know Mingyu’s trying to get coke from Vernon.”

You stopped playing with the phone, instead looking immediately to Wonwoo through the rays of gradual light that began easing past the gentler rain. He held his breath.

“Right, Vernon.” You almost shuddered.

“Yeah…”

“If he can get his hands on it, then, fuck, I’m fine with that. Whatever. Mingyu invited him, of course. As long as he doesn’t slink up to me and try to convince me the ten different ways he can give me the best orgasm I’ve ever had, I guess I shouldn’t whine.”

Wonwoo was embarrassed for his friend—it was a pretty rough situation, he would imagine. Not his most shining moment.

“I know he’s your bestie,” you said, stretching your legs out onto the coffee table, “and I’m not going to judge you to your face, but I will be judging you, silently, in the recesses of my own mind.”

Snickering, Wonwoo rubbed a hand down his neck.

“The transparency’s nice, I suppose. But, yeah. I understand why you’d have a gripe with him. To be fair, he’s not that bad. He’s a good guy that’s wrapped up in some shitty habits. I’m sure you taught him a lesson that night. It gave him a serious degree of humbling.”

“Pfft. Did it, now?”

Wonwoo opened his mouth, but he didn’t speak, and it was then you doubled over in laughter at him, patting a hand on his knee.

“No, no. It’s okay. I’ll just deal.”

“I know you will… and, like, be safe and stuff.”

You grinned, shaking your head.

“Oh, yeah. No need to worry. I know my limits… okay—well, actually, I shouldn’t say that—I have a vaguely good idea of where my limits are, and sometimes I happen to surpass them. Not by ignorance, though. My mind is just too mushy at that point to care.”

“How incredibly rambunctious,” Wonwoo replied. “You’re probably blacklisted everywhere; a walking threat, actually.

“Oh, shut up,” you chuckled, folding your arms. “If you were trying to wiggle your way into being invited, I’m revoking it now.”

“Well, that soils my next question.”

You raised your eyebrows, “… which is?”

For a moment, Wonwoo couldn’t process that he was about to ask such a pathetic question. He tried thinking about it more as an out-of-body experience, where it wasn’t really his true conscience taking the sails. You kept watching him, waiting for his response.

Thankfully, you didn’t grant him the breadth to speak, and he was certain a lively hue of colour had just flushed back to his face.

“Oh, you’re being serious. You want to go?”

“Not really,” Wonwoo admitted, pushing up his glasses. “But, uh, I don’t know. It helps that Vernon will be there. I’m sure you can tell, I’m not a party person—not at all. Just, it could be a good opportunity for… um… well, I really can’t explain why, actually.”

“Hm.” Your eyes narrowed. “I assume it’s Vernon pushing you into it for some stupid reason… I mean, I have no issues with you going, of course!” He watched you adjust your legs under the blanket, tucking them back beneath you. “But just so you know, these parties are kinda intense and can be a major sensory overload—even for me! And I know that you don’t like talking about it but I’m not sure how well it bodes to put you in a position where you might have… uh, never mind, actually. I shouldn’t speak on stuff that doesn’t concern me. I just care about your wellbeing.”

Wonwoo pushed his lips together. A slight rush of something warm and tingly flowered at his core and he couldn’t tell if he absolutely loved it or wanted the feeling to wither up and die. More light streamed through his windows as the rain weaned off and the sky morphed from grey back to a softer, evening powder blue.

“I appreciate your concern,” he answered after an almost questionable silence, “I’m sure it will be fine.”

“Oh, sorry—I just wanted to be sure.”

“It’s okay.”

Neither of you spoke for a moment. Wonwoo twiddled his thumbs while you stared down at the blanket, presumably thinking.

“I would love for you to come, then.”

He caught you smiling at him after extending the offer in a quiet voice. The outside light filled up your eyes like a glass of swirling gold and Wonwoo believed your earnesty. And while he knew Vernon would be elated that he was able to come, Wonwoo was fighting to understand if he felt more relieved or terrified.

—JUNE 15TH.

Coming home from his long shift at the pharmacy, it was some time past eleven at night. The day hadn’t been extremely busy, but Wonwoo found it always slowed down the most dramatically when he was absolutely itching to leave. He tried his best to get relaxed, jumping into a warm but short shower, making himself a cup of chamomile tea, looking back on some favourite excerpts from the journal he kept buried away in the first drawer on his nightstand.

Wonwoo willed himself not to look at any screens. And, yet, as he sat in his bed, drinking the last few sips of tea from his hot, porcelain cup, Wonwoo’s eyes flickered across the room to his desk where his laptop was placed, and he felt this ticking urge to write.

At first, he wasn’t sure what to do.

After all, he’d been putting in a significant effort to fix that godawful, nightmarish sleep schedule of his, and while his ventures weren’t always the most successful, Wonwoo was making notable strides. To throw that all away—just to pick open his laptop and most likely end up staring straight into a lurid, white screen, while nothing of actual substance came to his fingertips—it was fruitless, and perhaps a bit stupid. He knew he needed to let that story die.

The longer it sat, collecting pixelated dust on his desktop, the more it made sense to simply delete it. Move on. Acknowledge the fact that this relationship he once perceived as so perfect and glimmering had ended, and trying to find some wisps of closure in forcing himself to complete a fizzled romance was pointless. It made so much sense. Besides, Wonwoo was happier now than he had been back in March, April, May. And, he could attribute much of that to someone he once feared and poorly understood—you.

It was hard to describe, but you had been this flare—a comet more like—that kind of blazed with an uncontrolled fire into his very bleak life. And while he’d definitely felt your scorching, uncomfortable sting more than once, he was able to realize there was something so unique and enriching about you. Because you weren’t just an uncontrollable fire, you were a full body laugh that made it hard to breath, but in the best, most treasured way. You were the quiet stillness of a pond, deep in the woods, listening to all the sounds that thrived around you, even though it didn’t always seem like it.

And you were this very soft, caressing breeze that always found Wonwoo, even when he was at his lowest valleys, giving him that sensation of a shiver to let him know that he was still alive and breathing and not so horribly numb as he thought himself to be.

That was something he’d never experienced before.

It scared him somewhat, but there was comfort in the thought, nonetheless. True, warm, and pure comfort.

Wonwoo sighed, blinking away from his laptop.

He should probably just go to bed.

Once he washed his teacup out in the kitchen, Wonwoo started brushing his teeth. That big summer party he was supposed to attend with Vernon was tomorrow night, and to call him nervous was a complete understatement. Wonwoo wouldn’t be surprised if he threw up. He would probably have to smoke a bit before leaving, just to mellow out. Of course, Vernon was overflowing with excitation, and maybe that was a good thing—he could be Wonwoo’s buffer.

Since your day together at the museum, Wonwoo had revisited your apartment twice to help with further proofreading and editing. He would be downright lying if he claimed that having to read through a memoire of your fulgurant love for Mingyu wasn’t disheartening or turning him occasionally bitter. Wonwoo wanted to be happy that you were so devoted to him, you could write an entire book detailing all your sweetest moments and fondest memories and the overall history of your love. But he wasn’t happy in the slightest.

You made him happy—not you, plus Mingyu

Continuing to brush his teeth, Wonwoo heard his phone ding once, and then again from his bedroom. And while he hadn’t wanted to look at any screens tonight, he figured that responding to a couple texts wouldn’t thwart all his progress. With the toothbrush still hanging from the corner of his mouth, Wonwoo flopped backward onto the bed and yanked his phone off the charger. While he was expecting the messages to be from Vernon due to their late sending, he was quite surprised to see they were actually from you.

[ Her | 11:50 pm ]: IMG.2102

[ Her | 11:50 pm ]: do I look pretty?

Immediately, Wonwoo shuffled up onto his elbows, tapping at the picture you had sent him. When he nearly choked on the excess of minty foam stuck in his mouth, Wonwoo quickly ran into the washroom to spit it all out. He recognized the outfit you were wearing in the photo—it was that white two-piece from the boutique in the mall that you had tried on, with the high-waisted, short, tight skirt and the strapped top that wrapped around the back of your neck and criss-crossed over your chest. Coming back to his bed to sit down, Wonwoo leaned over with an elbow digging into his knee.

Did you mean to send that to him?

For a moment, his thumbs just hovered above the keyboard, attempting to concoct a coherent thought in his mind. He recognized the large, silver-bordered mirror from your bedroom. And while the phone was slightly covering your face, you had this leg crooked up in a sweet, almost delicate pose despite the open and revealing nature of the outfit. Wonwoo rubbed under his glasses, huffing out deeply.

[ Wonwoo | 11:55 pm ]: Did you mean to send this?

He prayed you didn’t take his text the wrong way.

[ Her | 11:55 pm ]: um yes

[ Her | 11:55 pm ]: ur wonwoo, aren’t u?

[ Her | 11:55 pm ]: I just wanted to know what u thought of the outfit I’m gonna wear. I know u have already seen it. but just in case u forgot I wanted to send another pic lol

[ Her | 11:56 pm ]: u think it’s bad? :(

Sitting back against his pillows, Wonwoo completely forgot all about his ‘no screens’ rule, texting you as quickly as possible.

[ Wonwoo | 11:56 pm ]: No, it doesn’t look bad at all.

[ Wonwoo | 11:56 pm ]: You look gorgeous.

[ Her | 11:57 pm ]: and ur not just saying that?

[ Wonwoo | 11:57 pm ]: No, of course not.

[ Wonwoo | 11:57 pm ]: You’ll be the prettiest there.

[ Her | 11:57 pm ]: omgg thxx <3 okay I feel better now

[ Wonwoo | 11:57 pm ]: Why? What happened?

At that moment, Wonwoo actually received a text from Seokmin, but he rapidly flicked it away. Another text followed, and Wonwoo swore he flicked it away even faster, as though Seokmin was actually talking into his ear despite the quietness of his bedroom.

[ Her | 11:59 pm ]: Mingyu told me he doesn’t really like it bc the skirt part is too short and he doesn’t like the top. he says it’s too revealing and that everyone will just be looking at my boobs lol. but I don’t want to change it :/ I like how it fits and it’s not like i’m going to be doing cartwheels or gymnastics

[ Her | 11:59 pm ]: idk he just made me feel bad about it

Wonwoo proceeded to rub a hand through his locks of clean, black hair, pulling them messily all over his head as he thought.

[ Wonwoo | 12:00 am ]: Hm. Well I do agree that it’s revealing and you probably will have people staring at you. I mean, if you’re not uncomfortable by that it’s fine. You’ll just have to be careful if you bend over or dance around, that’s all :) But I’m sure you already know that. You look beautiful. Don’t worry too much.

[ Her | 12:00 am ]: okayy thank you so much! :)

[ Wonwoo | 12:00 am ]: No problem.

[ Her | 12:01 am ]: I’m so glad that ur coming

[ Her | 12:01 am ]: it makes me feel better

[ Wonwoo | 12:01 am ]: Hopefully I can find you.

[ Her | 12:02 am ]: I’ll text you, no worries

[ Her | 12:02 am ]: mkay well I should go to bed now!

[ Her | 12:02 am ]: goodnight <3

[ Wonwoo | 12:02 am ]: Goodnight.

At last, Wonwoo clicked off the bright glare from his phone, setting it down against his chest. For at least five minutes, he did nothing but lay remarkably still in his bed and stare up at the ceiling, thinking—as he usually did—about why he was feeling that way.

That very certain, specific way that was so demanding in his heartbeat to be acknowledged, except for the fact Wonwoo wouldn’t acknowledge it because then he’d throw up and probably lose himself entirely as he panicked.

Eventually, his thoughts were becoming too loud for his liking, and Wonwoo promptly tossed his phone aside and crawled underneath the covers before turning off the bedside lamp.

Even then, Wonwoo was restless. When he tried rolling onto his side, the uncomfortable poking against his nose reminded him he hadn’t even removed his glasses. At first it was too hot, and Wonwoo pointed his leg out from beneath the blankets, pushing all the sheets down to rumple at his waist. But then it was notably cold after a few more minutes, and Wonwoo angrily stirred all his blankets back up to mask over his face. No matter what he did or how he positioned himself or what limb he decided to sacrifice to the hot-cold air, he wasn’t going to fall asleep. Wonwoo’s eyes popped open again.

Patting around the surface of the bed, his fingers eventually brushing the phone and glasses he’d discarded, Wonwoo decided he didn’t care about going to sleep anymore if that was how his body was going to so painfully treat him. He shuffled up more against the pillows splayed at his back and checked the messages sent by Seokmin about half an hour ago—the two boys hadn’t spoken in a while, almost since their exams ended in May, and while Wonwoo would have ideally liked to keep in touch with his friend, he was laughably horrible at it. At least Seokmin seemed chipper.

[ Seokmin | 11:57 pm ]: Hey Wonwoo!

[ Seokmin | 11:57 pm ]: I heard you were going to Mingyu and Seungcheol’s party! I didn’t think that would be something you’re into but I’ll also be there, probably for a couple hours

Wonwoo swiped out from the texts, not really feeling anything or thinking much about their content, and opened some messages from Vernon that he’d received at work but forgot to read.

[ Vernon | 9:55 pm ]: need a drive 4 the party?

[ Vernon | 9:55 pm ]: let me know beautiful xo

He couldn’t help but muster a chuckle at the teasing nature of his friend’s texts, though Wonwoo didn’t respond, making a mental note to answer the next day, instead. For another moment or two, he continued sitting in the dark shadows of his room, staring down at the only light which caught the reflection in his glasses. Wonwoo’s thumb at first hesitated, but then he was reopening his earlier conversation with you, and with a few upward flicks, he was back on that cute photo you’d sent him. It hadn’t left his mind at all.

This huge lump of guilt had come to sit in his gut like an anchor for a reason that Wonwoo didn’t begin recognizing, that is until he finally felt the pull from somewhere deep inside him—the thought had entered his mind and he knew if he just ignored it for even a second it would dissipate. But then, Wonwoo didn’t ignore it, because he didn’t truly want that. He was going to be selfish in that instance and sink into the pull, the heat—not dismissing the thought but the guilt he would later drown in—the shame of it all.

Wonwoo kicked off his mask of bedsheets, letting them settle in a slow puff around his ankles.

In the beginning, all of it felt so bizarre. The hand that twisted underneath his sweatpants, and then his boxers, coming to softly graze fingertips along his hardening shaft—he hadn’t done this in weeks. Wonwoo rarely experienced sexual frustration. It just wasn’t something that bothered him. But the absent tendency would always build up and inevitably break at some point and he hated that you were the cool, breathtaking breeze to push him over that cliff.

With the edges of his fingers, Wonwoo continued to stroke along himself, up and down, just barely touching. It would make his knee jolt or his thigh twitch, but the longer he teased, the more each touch transformed. The pleasure was soaking through and leading him in deeper until Wonwoo tilted up his hips in order to shove down the elastic waist of his sweatpants and underwear. The air was so cold but dually welcomed against his erection that he began pumping to full length in his hand, feeling it throb and grow and stiffen.

Wonwoo let his eyes flutter toward the phone he was holding at his stomach, examining your figure from head to toe. It was wrong and he fucking knew it, but as he rubbed a palm at his most sensitive head and felt the cum start to leak down his cock, Wonwoo couldn’t bring himself to scale the acceptableness of his actions.

In that moment, Wonwoo looked at you in all the ways he shouldn’t. He pressed his head back into the pillow, eyes falling shut while he lubricated himself in squeezing, slow strokes with his own arousal. His fingers gripped the phone tighter, refusing to drop it.

You were bright and flashing in his mind and Wonwoo wanted to know all of it—he wanted to know the feeling of your silk, swollen lips leaving warm kisses up his shaft. He wanted to know the sensation of your tongue laving messy circles around his tip, teasing him, purring at him, staring up at him with those intimidating, sharp eyes that had always seemed beyond frightening. He wanted to know the sounds you would make if you ever so kindly allowed him to settle between your thighs. He knew how fucking beautiful your cunt would be and he could only imagine your taste would utterly melt him.

His fist wrapped tighter, pumped faster, and despite his usual quiet temperament in bed, a throaty, deep whine caught in Wonwoo’s throat. He took another look at your picture, and somewhere amongst the smog of pleasure that thickly hazed his logic, Wonwoo felt this transient, selfish anger, because in that moment, he wanted you. He needed you. He would do fucking anything you asked him and more because there was so much weight you held in his life. Wonwoo just wanted to make you happy and he couldn’t help but burn with the desperation to treat you better than anyone else ever had.

Knowing he was going to shatter soon, Wonwoo braced himself through the torture that was removing his hand and letting the intense, throbbing accumulation of pleasure ebb from his cock.

He gritted his teeth at the frustrating feeling.

But there was a reason for his decision. Looking back to the phone still aglow, Wonwoo swiped out from your picture and began scrolling higher up in the conversation, seeking out something particular that had jumped into his memory. And once he found it, there was an even denser feeling of guilt he had to ignore.

Last week, you ended up sending him a voice note because you were too exhausted to even bother typing. It wasn’t that the audio contained anything even relatively lascivious, since you were mostly just rambling about your day and never quite finishing a thought.

However, Wonwoo loved your voice. He loved hearing it in person and through his phone’s crappy speakers, especially when you sounded so sleepy, and your tone would soften, the occasional sigh or gentle breath hitting his ear just perfectly. Placing his hand back around his erection, Wonwoo hit play on your voice note and laid the phone beside his head on the pillow. He managed to smile through the pleasure that was rebuilding inside him as he intently listened.

“Um, hi, so—ah! Sorry, my phone just fucking slid under the covers, oh my God. But, yeah, I’m sending a voice note ‘cause I’m drop dead exhausted from today. It was the worst. My legs hurt so bad that I could hardly carry myself to bed. Ugh. Anyway… okay, sorry, I forgot what I was gonna say… oh yeah! So—”

It all felt too euphoric—too warm and overwhelming and the more Wonwoo listened to your sweet voice the more he felt himself pulsate with how badly he needed you. He planted one foot to his mattress, using it for stability and leverage as his hips thrust upward and he began unbridled fucking into his own hand. More than anything in the universe he wanted it to be your cunt—your pretty, wet, soft cunt cushioning him in and gushing all over him. He was going to drive himself fucking crazy at the thought, so much that Wonwoo began begging for you in his husky, deep, quivering voice.

Most was complete incoherency, dipping into confusing, jumbled whimpers of his English and native Korean tongue. Your voice was right there by his ear, though he was hardly processing a word. His orgasm was going to collapse over him like a tidal wave and all Wonwoo could do was succumb as he continued pumping his strained cock. His breathing was laboured, heavy. He kept stuttering and pleading for you into the sheer darkness of his bedroom.

Lots of “pl-please” and “f-ffuck, fuck, fuck!” and “m’gonna cc-cum for you, I want t’cum for you, I need it all inside of you, put it all so deep in your p-perfect cunt”—and plenty more tainted things he would take to his grave before he would ever confess to uttering.

As the voice note came to its end, Wonwoo had slammed his fist down for the last time. He immediately turned his cheek to the pillow, ignoring how the rounded glasses dug into his face, simply because his moan was too broken and shamefully loud. His cock started throbbing with the most intense pleasure he’d ever felt against his palm. The cum dribbled down his ghost-white knuckles. Wonwoo refused to even glance at the mess he was making. With a few more shaky pumps of his fist, he’d milked out all he possibly could, some spurts landing on his rumpled t-shirt. At last, he could exhale.

Lifting himself up with his clean hand, Wonwoo took a few moments to simply breathe. His entire body was still racing with adrenaline and hormones and the pure rush of his self-orchestrated ecstasy. But, pushing between all the energy was his guilt—the fact of what he’d just done and how he’d so blatantly used you to make himself feel good. Wonwoo glanced back at his phone and the voice note in the conversation. Immediately, he clicked the device off, and there was strictly still, shapeless blackness that surrounded him.

What the fuck had he just done?

How was he supposed to text you, look at you, talk to you, knowing he’d officially jerked off to your picture and your voice. Even worse—it was probably the best his masturbation had ever felt. It was all so fucking heavenly in the moment that he thought he might die.

Wonwoo had no idea what to make of his actions.

His feelings for you.

But he thought he should at least tidy himself up.

—JUNE 16TH

Before Vernon had come by in his car, Wonwoo was caught in an exhausting and sickening guessing game of whether or not he needed to throw up. His lower stomach was in complete knots, prompting him to pace back and forth outside the washroom door, because sitting down was going to make him ruminate even more over how terribly nervous he was. Thankfully, however, Wonwoo never threw up, and he was able to calm himself a bit by rolling a blunt, sparking it while sat at the open windowsill in his bedroom.

There was also help from the nighttime breeze that touched against his warm face, a sensation he had always found so soothing.

Just before ten at night, Wonwoo received the critical text from Vernon—he was parked outside on the street. He’d fully smoked his blunt at the time of the message, and he pathetically prayed to himself that his nerves wouldn’t sizzle back up at the worst possible time as he locked his apartment door. Once Wonwoo had stepped outside, he spotted Vernon’s old vanilla Camry stalled beside the postal box across the street. He was kind enough to reach over and push the door open for Wonwoo, who quickly shuffled into his seat.

Immediately, Wonwoo received his usual greeting.

“Hey, Glasses.”

He gave a nod back in response, buckling on the seatbelt.

“So, you smell like confusin’ mix of straight cannabis and a fuckin’ breezy Caribbean Ocean tide. How the fuck does that work?”

“Uh, I put on cologne. And then I smoked?”

“You nervous, then?” Vernon asked through his trademark conniving smirk, meanwhile he began steering out onto the street.

“Of course I’m fucking nervous,” Wonwoo almost laughed back at the obvious nature of the question and habitually checked his friend’s blind spot. “I don’t even go to like, dinner parties.”

“Pfft, I’m sure you’ll be fine. The good thing about parties like these—everyone gets so fucked it’s unlikely they’ll remember some nervous dweeb like yourself. Amongst all that chaos, you’ll blend straight in. There’s nothin’ to be shaked up about. I promise ‘ya.”

Wonwoo merely huffed in response, opting to let Vernon focus on driving and working the car’s outdated stereo while he checked his phone. Actually, Wonwoo had wanted to text you before he left the apartment, but he was still stomaching all the rigid guilt that came with jerking himself off to your pretty picture and voice note the night before. It was a stupid, stupid choice.

All those thoughts that had been stampeding through his head—wanting you and needing you and craving to belong with you in a way that could never reach true fruition—Wonwoo had to convince himself it was all meaningless. His mind had conjured those ridiculous sentiments when his logic was razor thin and overcome by the deception of his lust, and, therefore, he refused to accept those urges were even close to his actual feelings for you. He clicked his phone back off, not meaning to sigh aloud but doing so anyway.

Vernon then shot him a speculative glance through the rear-view mirror, though Wonwoo barely caught it. He looked out the window instead, at all the passing lights and people who were eager to spend their Friday night doing something stimulating.

“So, I know you’re probably just thinkin’ to yourself over there, as you usually do,” his friend said, fiddling with the radio until the static noise died back into music, “but I think it’s all too funny.”

Wonwoo scrunched his nose, continuing to watch the nightlife slip by his tracing eyes outside the window.

“Hm? What’s funny?”

Vernon chuckled. “All that shit you said to me, like, over a month ago. We’re not friends. And now, you n’Her hang out all the time. I think she’s pumpin’ some actual life back into you. You’re not like you were before, y’know? Which is good to see. So, what I wanna know now is—would you say the same? Or is she your friend?”

Right, Wonwoo remembered the conversation Vernon was referring to—the night his friend drove him home after a tiresome shift at the pharmacy. With his entire chest, Wonwoo had claimed you two weren’t friends. There had been a lot of truth to it, at least from his perspective. Or, maybe, he’d crushed down the prospect of it so vehemently because Wonwoo had just assumed someone like you would have no interest in honestly befriending him.

He could offer you something, and that was it.

But, now…

“You’d have to ask her,” Wonwoo answered, shrugging.

Instantly, Vernon groaned.

“God, that’s such a fuckin’ cop-out answer, Glasses.”

“Well, what the fuck should I say? Yes, we’re friends, but then you might go and ask her, and she’ll say otherwise.”

“So what?” Vernon engaged, raising his hand partially off the steering wheel in a half-gesture. “So fuckin’ what if she says that? If you think of her as a friend then commit to that. There’s nothin’ wrong with it.” His voice became firmer, more convictional.

Wonwoo tilted his head back against the seat. It’s not that he didn’t think you were friends—it was more so that he might to admit it, and then the relationship could all fall apart, crash like a burning, charred asteroid at his feet. And then Wonwoo would be back in the same self-inflicted crater he was before, thinking he had a genuine connection in his life only to have the rug pulled out from under him.

“… I don’t know.”

“No, you do know. But I see you wanna be all secretive about it and keep your cards close to the chest. So, whatever.”

Rubbing at the edge of his nose, Wonwoo took a quiet moment for himself to muse. He wanted another blunt.

“I don’t think she’ll be that excited to see me.” Vernon said.

Turning his head, Wonwoo looked to his friend and laughed.

“Yeah, can’t imagine why.”

“Think she’ll rip my head off?” Vernon joked with a big, gummy grin, relaxing back into his seat. “That might be kinda hot.”

“No—it would be traumatizing, actually.”

“She better not,” his friend answered, slapping his glove compartment and smirking pridefully. “I’ve got her goddamn coke.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ… I’ve never seen a street this packed…”

Vernon couldn’t help his awe from spilling out as he navigated at a snail’s pace down the road, each and every available spot that lined the curb being occupied by a vehicle. Wonwoo spotted a few groups making their way up the sidewalks, toward the colossal sized house to the distant right of the street. Seungcheol lived in Hill Crest, just like your parents, but he seemed poised at the neighbourhood’s opposite end—probably ideal for throwing an outrageous party that would otherwise magnetize the entire police task force to the door.

Wonwoo glanced down at his phone.

Seokmin had sent him a text a few minutes ago, inquiring if him and Vernon were close by or at the house. He sent a message back about the worrying lack of parking spaces, and then continued to help Vernon search through the overcrowd for a hopeful pocket.

“Fuck… this isn’t lookin’ good…” Vernon lamented.

“I doubt there will be anything close to the house,” Wonwoo sighed, folding his arms in doubt. “It could be best to make a turn or go around the block? We might just have to take a hike.”

“Hansol Vernon Chwe doesn’t take fuckin’ hikes,” his friend jabbed, antsy fingers sculpting into his bitten lip while the other hand catered to steering the wheel. “I have this dude’s blow. Doesn’t that earn me a VIP-guest-list-skip-the-line type plot?”

Wonwoo scoffed. “Should’ve sorted that out earlier, man.”

“Shut your dorky ass up. I’ll figure somethin’ out.”

At that moment, the phone slid between his thighs vibrated with another text from Seokmin. His eyes widened at the invite.

[ Seokmin | 10:40 pm ]: Oh dw about street parking!

[ Seokmin | 10:40 pm ]: Use the gate at the house

“I think you’re right. I might have to turn,” Vernon announced in a defeated breath, brushing a hand through his dust black hair. “Get ready to see the best three-point turn that’s ever been turnt.”

“Just wait one minute,” Wonwoo then answered, leaning forward in his seat as he began to text Seokmin for more details.

[ Wonwoo | 10:41 pm ]: Gate?

[ Seokmin | 10:41 pm ]: Seungcheol’s got a gate that leads to this little underground parking thing. Some of his and Mingyu’s close friends are using it. Her’s friends, too

[ Wonwoo | 10:42 pm ]: Uh… I don’t know haha.

[ Seokmin | 10:42 pm ]: I asked Seungcheol, it’s fine!

[ Wonwoo | 10:42 pm ]: You sure?

[ Seokmin | 10:42 pm ]: Yup

[ Seokmin | 10:42 pm ]: Gate code is #1142!

“Don’t turn around, go up to the driveway and look for a gate,” Wonwoo instructed. “Apparently, this dude’s got an underground parking space. Seokmin gave me the code for it.”

“Jesus Christ,” disbelieving laughter swelled up from Vernon’s chest as he proceeded along the street. “This guy’s like, rich-rich. I wanna see all that fuckin’ cash up front. Bills in every colour.”

Wonwoo was just relieved that Seokmin was telling the truth, though he was nonetheless extremely anxious about using the parking space, and something sharp in his abdomen tightened upon reaching that bronze gate. Vernon had to roll down his window and partially lean outside to press in the code read from Wonwoo’s phone.

They both cast each other a bewildered glance when the gate separated automatically, allowing them access down the slant.

“Rich people can just do whatever they fuck they want, can’t they?” Vernon laughed, shaking his head. “Remind me not to steal anything while we’re wanderin’ around in there.”

But Wonwoo couldn’t say anything even half-conscious in response to his friend’s lazy joke. He was too busy focusing his breathing.

“Jeez, it's about time, huh?” Vernon’s words sounded rife with electricity as they approached the main entryway to the house, the brisk, nighttime air blowing back against their heated faces.

They had already witnessed several people slipping inside and out, to which the shuddering, clear blurt of the music would escape the doorway—not that they couldn’t hear it already. The deep and rhythmic bass was emanating from within Seungcheol’s house like a growl caught in a beast’s belly, and Wonwoo could only fathom what kind of damage his eardrums might sustain after the night was over.

Right before Vernon could touch the handle, the doors abruptly burst open with an aggressive swing, revealing two girls who were latched hand in hand, giggling to each other. The distinct stench of marijuana clouded after them down the steps.

Vernon opted to catch the left door before it could close.

“After you, Glasses,” he invited with an almost glimmering smirk, then gesturing inward at the practical void that awaited him—auroras of flashing light, loud conversation, and pounding music.

It seemed like stepping into another universe.

“Thanks for the chivalry,” Wonwoo answered.

He then forced himself into the mansion, not allowing the empty space in his mind to concoct ample regret or doubt. Vernon followed suit, the large door slamming shut in a forbidding manner behind the two boys, akin to a shoving a cork on a glass bottle and capturing all the sand grains inside. Wonwoo knew he could leave, though it didn’t feel like it. However, he didn’t want to act defeated before even starting the night. Maybe some of Seokmin’s miraculous optimism gloss would rub off on him before it was too late.

The thing was, Wonwoo had no idea what to think or do nor could he develop one sensible, sound thought that he might express to Vernon—the house was alive with what seemed to be a mighty sea of people. Some were mingling with their drinks loosely held in an attempt to feign casualness, pitching conversation despite the unrelenting music. Others were clashed together, dirty dancing, hands carnally wandering, probably thinking nothing other than how good it felt to be a part of the moment. Everything was so dim and dark. Lights blotched around the room in deep purples and blues.

Wonwoo had suddenly forgotten how to even move.

Until Vernon’s hand slapped his shoulder.

“Hey, what should we start with?!” His friend had practically shouted over the music and its hypnotizing synths. “Do you wanna get a drink? Smoke one out? Or should we find Seokmin?”

For a moment, Wonwoo just stared at him, trying hard through the murkiness and heat to match the words he was hearing with Vernon’s lips. The environment would take a bit getting used to.

“Also—,” he then grabbed Wonwoo’s shoulder, “—let’s move away from the door before we get fuckin’ trampled, yeah?”

Vernon helped guide Wonwoo further into the main living area, down a few stairs and toward the large square of couches. There was hardly any room to sit without being uncomfortably close to someone else—they were either in another person’s lap, swapping a disgusting amount of liquored spit, or completely faded and about as coherent as a rock. Wonwoo didn’t want to sit, anyway. He looked down at his phone, noticing that Seokmin had texted him again.

“Um, what do you want to do?” He decided to flip the question on Vernon, not wanting to be tasked with the decision.

Besides, he assumed his friend would know better.

“Me? I want a fuckin’ drink!” Vernon began to look around, though the air was notably veiled with a thin smoke and all the bodies were obstructing much view of anything. “Oh—I told you already, didn’t I?! That I’m definitely intendin’ to get shitfaced?! Did you figure out a ride in case you wanted t’go home later on?”

As Vernon began his quest to find a drink, Wonwoo was right behind him, remembering that Vernon had mentioned it already.

“I know!” He called out while reading Seokmin’s text.

[ Seokmin | 11:00 pm ]: There’s like two big living spaces

[ Seokmin | 11:00 pm ]: We’re not in the main one tho, easiest way is to go through the kitchen and out the other side!

Wonwoo had thought you would text him, and he couldn’t evade his disappointment at the expectation. He decided to assume that maybe you just didn’t know he was there yet. At most, he hoped you weren’t too blasted and at least cognizant enough to hold a conversation with him. Though, Wonwoo had not one inkling as to what you were like at parties. He could only imagine from the scattered bits and pieces he’d heard from yourself and Vernon.

As Wonwoo followed Vernon down a foggy corridor, he suddenly bumped into the boy’s hard back with a bothered grunt. A girl had stepped out from a threshold that led into the kitchen and he realized that Vernon was only letting her leave before they entered.

She leaned in rather close to Vernon’s face, stroking a quick, flirtatious hand along the divots in his defined chest as she lilted aloud, “thanks, gorgeous.”

Her gaze switched to linger on Wonwoo for what felt like a long, excruciating eternity before proceeding past them in a confident stride down the dark and narrow hallway. Vernon kissed his teeth, staring back at Wonwoo with that hedonistic twinkle in his eyes.

“Okay—she was fine, not gonna lie.”

“Mmhm,” Wonwoo mumbled, adjusting his glasses, “can we at least get a drink first before you decide to start fucking people?”

“Why do you think we’re at the kitchen, smart ass?”

Shaking his head in dismissal at Vernon’s snarky comment, he urged the boy impatiently into the kitchen area (which was admittedly larger than Wonwoo’s entire living space).

One side of the room was lined with arrays of salty snacks, while the opposite contained big, rounded punch bowls of pre-mixed alcohol that people were dipping into with ladles. Vernon had noticed the option to mix your own drink, and thus Wonwoo was dragged toward the kitchen island where the boys waited to pick from the various bottles of alcohol and soft drinks left scattered about.

Wonwoo peeped down at his phone again while Vernon got easily caught up in conversation with a girl preparing a lemon shot.

He finally answered Seokmin’s texts.

“Hey, Glasses!” Vernon’s hand latched onto his shoulder, giving it a shake. “This is Sierra! She’s gonna make us our drinks!”

It took him a moment to properly decipher the girl Vernon had been speaking to, though, the longer he squinted through the shifty kitchen lighting, the more he could separate her silhouette and features from the dimness. She had a comfortable smile, full and warm, trustworthy, and so Wonwoo merely shrugged his agreement.

“Don’t worry,” the girl shouted, pulling aside two solo cups and then twizzling off the bottlecap to the rum, “I’m a bartender, actually. I used to work Room 319. Now I’m at Honeymoon.”

Vernon leaned his elbows on the granite, watching with intrigue as she sloshed a decent amount of alcohol into each cup.

“Room 319? You’ve definitely seen some shit,” he cackled.

“Oh, yeah. One-hundred percent.”

“Y’know, I tried getting this cunt to go—” Vernon jabbed an accusing thumb back at Wonwoo, “—but he’s such a flake!”

Sierra proceeded to grin quite demurely, flashing a quick, barely detectable glance toward Wonwoo, who had just managed to catch it while shoving the phone back into his pocket. She then grabbed a sweetener from amongst the clutter, tucking a short tuft of hair behind her ear before adding a small drizzle to each solo cup.

“Hey, it’s not for everybody!” Her cheeks flushed in the galactic, purplish light that flickered around the kitchen. “And, uh, this may sound weird, actually. But I recognize you, I think.”

“Oh, me?” Wonwoo was finally forced to speak.

“Yeah, uh—” she stumbled over her words a bit as she swirled the sweetener around inside the cups, “—from Bradbrook’s calculus. I think you sat a few rows ahead of me, or something. I just know because I, um—I was really close to failing the class. When I went to her for help, she gave me a ton of resources, even said I could try asking you about tutoring. She said you’re like, her best student.”

“Hm,” Wonwoo hummed, cracking his neck, “I’ve never tutored anyone—don’t know why she’d think to recommend me.”

“It’s okay! I never asked because you seemed like the type who didn’t want to be bothered,” Sierra responded, beginning to top off the drinks with some bubbling soda. “I figured it out, anyway.”

“Good for you,” Wonwoo commended.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure if it was you, ‘cause your hair would always be down over your forehead in class. But you’ve got it all brushed and styled and stuff. It looks super nice!”

He smiled at her and mumbled, “thanks.”

“Well, I’m gonna get running! No matter where I end up, I always seem to be everyone’s mixologist at some point.”

Vernon dragged the alcohol over, maintaining his slouched position onto the island granite. Upon taking an experimental sip to taste the flavours and potency, his face momentarily soured, and then all his features relaxed. He was glowing like an ember, almost.

“No, that’s good. Tastes a bit like a… gummy bear?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s so delicious,” she agreed, shoving hands into her back pockets. “Tastes even better kissing it off someone.”

As Wonwoo stared down at his fizzling drink, debating his first sip, he again felt the transient flittering of her eyes ghost him.

“Go figure,” Vernon rasped, smiling, “appreciate it, player.”

“M’kay,” Sierra chirped and waved, ”bye!”

Not even a few seconds after she left, and someone else swooped in like an eagle to clasp the bottle of rum she’d once been handling, Vernon turned his head to Wonwoo with a raised brow.

“She was DTF for you, holy shit.”

“Hm?” Wonwoo sounded muffled with the solo cup now perched at his lips, allowing the drink to seep into his mouth, tasting the smoothness of the rum, and then the sweet. “What’s that mean?”

“DTF?” Vernon echoed. “Down to fuck!” He smacked his arm.

“That’s stupid and absurd.”

“Well, Glasses, you’re fuckin’ stupid and absurd if you didn’t see it. I mean, if you’re not gonna get a chance with Her, mine as well start seekin’ out what you can. Might make you less uptight.”

“No—that’s what makes you less uptight, not me.”

“I’m just sayin’, man—you’re hot and you don’t even take advantage of it. In no shapes or figures… forms? Whatever the stupid sayin’ is. You’ve got to live a little. But, whatever. Where’s Seokmin?”

“Through there, I think?” Wonwoo nodded toward a high-arched exit opposite to the side they entered the kitchen from. “That’s what he texted me. But I’ll double check anyway, to be sure.”

Flashing on his phone, Wonwoo finally saw your messages.

[ Her | 11:11 pm ]: wonwooooooo

[ Her | 11:11 pm ]: LIVING ROOM! I'm waiting!!!!

And just like that—like a splitting snap of the fingers—he felt everything all over again, and those nerves steamrolled him in the most pathetic way possible.

He stared down at his phone, moonfaced.

Wonwoo was happy you had remembered to message him, embarrassingly giddy at the thought, even. But he was also downright nauseous to reunite with your inquisitive friends, to meet Seungcheol, to again push through the intangible, brooding weight of seeing Mingyu. He took a gulp from the red cup, swishing the tart but sugared concoction between his cheeks before swallowing, hoping the rum burned down all his nerves in the throaty sting it left behind.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo rediscovered his voice, “through there.”

At first, he couldn’t identify you anywhere. The room was even bigger than the kitchen, just as poorly lit, with a high, pointed ceiling that somehow reminded him of the church he attended when he was too little to even properly grasp religion. But Wonwoo continued squinting through the jumbled crowd, making slow steps and surveiling the room each time alongside Vernon.

“I don’t see ‘em!” He shouted overtop the music, grabbing Wonwoo’s elbow to stop him from moulding into all the warm bodies.

“He said they’re in here!” Wonwoo raised his voice, checking his phone for another text, but seeing nothing. “Fuck, I don’t know.”

Sensing that fluttering, unsteady wind in his chest, Wonwoo was eager to indulge in another sip from his cup, desperately yearning for the alcohol to fucking hurry up and take its floating effect. Yet, as the taste subdued on his tongue, Wonwoo was able to notice a slight fissure that formed in between the congregation of people—a rather perfect alignment that revealed a home bar across the room, with familiar faces seated at the stools and more laughing behind the counter. That was when Wonwoo saw you, captured in a brush stroke of sweeping, amethyst light that dappled down your body.

You were leaned leisurely against Mingyu’s chest, holding onto his arm that draped like a protective sling over your shoulder, and Wonwoo supposed it was laid there with a not-so-subtle purpose.

Mingyu was speaking to his friend and co-host, Seungcheol, who was on the other side of the home bar, his lower back digging against the counter while he had quirked his head to still see Mingyu.

One face that Wonwoo had yet to discern was Seokmin, though, in all his honestly, Wonwoo wasn’t that fixated on further searching the low dusk and marijuana plumes hanging tacky in the air. He’d found you. All those nerves dissolved into comfort.

Maybe it was shallow, but that’s what he cared about most.

“Oh!’ Vernon piped up. “Damn. They’re right down there.”

And, before the crowd could readjust themselves to drown the slivered space between yourself and Wonwoo, your head turned.

In the nick of time, you seemed to recognize him, because that hazy, unfocused nature about your countenance shifted in a mere second, and he saw a smile pick its way along your mouth, like a springtime garden at last twirling abloom. You proceeded to nudge Mingyu’s arm aside, whispering something into his ear that he didn’t quite seem to hear correctly as he maintained his lengthy talk with Seungcheol.

Wonwoo knew he was smiling, too, bigger and bigger.

You wove your way through the crowd, to which Wonwoo couldn’t help himself from the short chuckle he spat out as you impatiently shoved aside the guy that had stepped into your way.

“Move! Oh my fucking God—”

But your flash of contempt didn’t last long.

A second later, you were buckling into Wonwoo.

Your arms reached up to curl tightly around his neck, and he felt the grooves of your warm, soft body press firm against him for the first time. Wonwoo was scared at the proximity, though his pounding heart ever so gradually calmed as he took in a deep breath and smelled that faint, fresh scent—strawberries. While it was undoubtedly integrated with some sort of spicy liquor, Wonwoo didn’t care. He pulled himself into the moment—realized how fucking badly he wanted to drop the solo cup and splay his hands at the open, revealing back of your outfit and feel your bare, supple skin.

But he couldn’t. Because Wonwoo wasn’t your boyfriend.

And you weren’t his to so unabashedly touch.

“I’m so fucking happy you made it!” He heard you squeal into his ear, his smile somehow widening at your animated voice.

“Yeah? Bit of a hassle, not gonna lie," Wonwoo answered.

“Parking? I’m sorry! I should have texted you about the gate!”

“No, no,” he laughed, trying his best and gentlest way to somehow ease some space in between you, “it’s okay. Everything worked out perfectly fine in the end. Don’t worry about it, alright?”

“You sure?”

Wonwoo looked into your eyes, so enchantingly bright and glistering as you blinked at him sympathetically, wearing a tiny pout.

Fuck—he wanted to kiss you.

It was such a blatant, jarring thought that Wonwoo couldn’t respond to your worry straight away, instead pushing down his urges.

“… I’m sure.”

“Well,” you then hummed, at last relaxing your hold around his neck and making some very unwanted but necessary space between your bodies, “is it still true?” You bit your lip afterward.

“Hm? Is what still true?”

Upon Wonwoo furrowing his brow, you pressed into him again, reaching up to his ear where you could comfortably talk and not worry about whether the music would muffle every syllable.

He felt the warmth of your breath tickle at his skin. And then—shivers, everywhere. Trickling down his spine. His nape. Not the kind from chilly, cold weather, or a scary movie, but a different kind that prompted his sense to disintegrate in a simple second.

“Do you still think I’m the prettiest here?”

Wonwoo sensed the grin paint his face, as easy as melting butter, though he hid it well in your sweet-scented hair.

“Mmhm, ‘course you are,” he answered, purposefully deepening his already deep voice. “You’re always the prettiest.”

One of your charming, seraphic giggles feathered at his ear and Wonwoo had never been so convinced that he would exchange just about anything in his life to call you his for the entire night.

“Um, hey, so… I don’t want to fuckin’ ruin your guys’ little reunion or nothin’, but I am still here, unfortunately!”

Damn—Wonwoo had kind of forgotten that Vernon was even there, and hearing his gruff voice break through the room’s drumming bass had quickly removed him from his fantasy. In a way, he was relieved, because Wonwoo knew he’d been thinking with unprecedented delusion and he needed something to draw a ripple through his thoughts before he became too meek to ignore them.

You then slotted yourself against Wonwoo’s side, adjusting the white strap grooving around the back of your neck. One arm remained around his wideset shoulders, latching him into place.

“Well, that’s an immaculate face I haven’t seen in a while,” you deadpanned at poor Vernon, sculpting him up and down with shameless judgement. “And what have you been up to? Selling MDMA from behind porta-potties to dumb, gullible first years?”

But Vernon took it well, as he was most likely expecting it.

“So, I won’t say no or yes to that.”

“Hm. Figures.”

Vernon shook his head, mustering up a husky laugh. “Should I assume you haven’t gotten over our incident, yet?”

Wonwoo felt your ovaled, sharp fingernails dig into his shoulder, and he settled his hand on your upper back to relax you.

“I’ll get over it when I want to get over it.”

“Okay, okay." A smile bled across Vernon’s face. “And I respect that, yeah? How ‘bout we both agree to keep it lax? That work at all?”

Despite your narrowed, seething eyes, you agreed.

“It works, for now.” You were in the midst of turning around, as though to begin pulling Wonwoo toward the bar, but you suddenly stopped on a dime, returning your glared focus back toward an unsuspecting, more lenient Vernon. “By the way, Princess is in a relationship with Seungcheol, so paws off. And don’t even think about trying to fuck Clara or Bells again or else you’ll need to take every single pill you fucking own in order to feel even a fraction of anything after I’m done beating your breaks off. Understand?”

“Uh, yes. I do. I understand.”

And then you grinned, though it was colder than outer space, and Wonwoo was more than pleased he wasn’t on the receiving end.

“Perfect! Now, let’s get everyone all introduced. I promise, though, there’s not many strangers. I guess just Seungcheol? Some of his friends are around here somewhere, I don’t know where.”

You curled an arm around Wonwoo’s elbow and began tugging him into the barricade of people, most stepping aside for you without request, like you were a princess or some other type of respected royalty. Wonwoo glanced back at Vernon who was already giving him a wide-eyed, skeptical expression, and so he made sure to dip his head close to Vernon’s ear to murmur some encouragement.

“At least your head isn’t ripped off.”

However, it might have not been the most thoughtful.

“Yeah, meta-fuckin’-phorically it is,” Vernon laughed back. “I forgot how scary the chick is. How have you not pissed your pants yet?”

“You get used to it after a while. N’hey—when the hell did you have sex with Clara and Bells?" Wonwoo couldn’t help himself from asking over his shoulder as he was further pulled along by your persistent guide.

“It was before you got to know Her, alright? But—” Vernon had suddenly leaned closer, his breath at Wonwoo’s ear, “—Bells is a fuckin’ homie hopper. Guaranteed she’ll try to get into your pants. I know she’s tried it with Seungcheol, Seokmin, probably you, tonight.”

“Well, you two sound like a match made in heaven.”

“Ha! Funny, man,” Vernon cackled, shoving his friend’s back in a teasing way. “No—she’s actually crazy. Gives good head, though.”

Wonwoo opted to ignore the last comment. He was soon at the bar alongside you, Vernon, and all the others, to which he noted your arm was still clasped around his elbow, a gesture that Wonwoo found himself greatly appreciating as everyone began pausing their own conversations to acknowledge the two newcomers. He didn’t know who to look at or greet first as his heartbeat thundered, though he recognized Clara and Bells seated together on two leather stools, a few emptied shot glasses aligned before them like dominos.

Princess, the friend Wonwoo always thought you were closest to, was behind the counter with Seungcheol, staring Wonwoo down through her hooded and smooth brown eyes. He felt Mingyu watching him too, though it discomforted him much more than Princess.

“Hey, nice to meet you guys, finally.” Seungcheol was leaning over the luminated countertop, bumping his fist against Wonwoo’s, and then Vernon’s. “Hope you’re finding it alright.”

Wonwoo had never met Seungcheol despite hearing his name frequently throughout campus, especially during the prime months for partying. The consensus was that everyone seemed to like and respect him for his cordial, easygoing attitude and sportsmanship, since he played a lot of basketball for the university’s principal varsity team. Wonwoo had never once heard anything concerning or relatively malicious about the guy. He was almost akin to a celebrity.

“We got in not too long ago,” Vernon explained, and Wonwoo was grateful he took the conversating initiative, “seems crazy. And thanks for lettin’ us use your garage! Street parkin’ was ass.”

“Shit, yeah. I get it.” Seungcheol shrugged in agreement, meanwhile drawing a shallow glass over to himself. “It’s no problem, man. You did us a favour with the blow. I’ll pay upstairs, yeah?”

“Hey, it’s all good. What’re you pourin’ up?’

Princess suddenly reached around Seungcheol’s shoulder, removing the large, maple bottle he was about to twist open.

“He’s not pouring up anything,” she smiled, placing the alcohol on a shelf behind her, “because whiskey gets him beyond hammered, and I need him coherent for at least another hour.”

Seungcheol turned around, his mouth hung open.

“Okay—I was gonna pour out a splash.”

The girl grabbed his sharp jaw, giving Seungcheol’s face a tender shake before pushing her lips against his. His previous objection suddenly disappeared like morning dew. For a couple that had recently started dating according to your allegory, they seemed remarkably comfortable with each other.

“Okay—shot, shot!” Bells yelped excitedly, slapping her hand against the polished countertop as Clara grabbed a tequila bottle.

“Oh, god.” Your eyes rolled, and Wonwoo heard the exhaustion in your tone. “Have fun getting alcohol poisoning.”

Mingyu scoffed, crossing his broad, buff arms. “They’ll be blackout in less than an hour.”

“What for?” Vernon asked.

You finally let go of Wonwoo, grabbing your own solo cup off the countertop and taking a fast swig before answering.

“Whenever Seungcheol and Princess kiss, they take a shot.”

“And they kiss a lot—" Clara hiccupped, a very inebriated fog cast across her gaze, “— even more than Her n’ Mingyu!”

“Oh, don’t bring us into this,” you snapped from behind your drink, leaning an elbow onto the bar, “take your shot and can it.”

“I’m starting to not even taste it!”

The giggling spilled from Bells’ mouth like a waterspout, to which both her and Clara leaned in close to each other’s faces, their expressions warping with breathless, dry gulps of laughter.

“Excuse them,” Princess then muttered, resting an arm along Seungcheol’s firm back, waves of moonlit blue dancing across her dark skin while she eyed her cackling friends with bits of judgement and concern. “I’m starting to believe they have an alcohol problem.”

“So, if I lose you later, should I assume you’re in the washroom holding back their hair?” Seungcheol then huffed into his clasped hands, flicking soft eyes up toward his sighing girlfriend.

She pulled at a long braid of her hair, nodding.

“If I’m not, I’ll buy you dinner.”

“Fuck, I like those odds, baby," he rasped, leaning back.

Princess smiled, squeezing his shoulder.

“No, you absolutely don’t, sweetheart.”

Wonwoo smiled at them, exercising his best effort to follow all the conversation even though his brain was whirring on overdrive. He was in the midst of sipping from the sweetened rum when Clara’s eyes snapped akin to a locket with his own, and she immediately squealed.

“Oh! You! From Spring Street! Mr. Deep Voice!”

Lowering the cup from his face, Wonwoo’s heart dropped.

He was more than perfectly okay with sitting on the sidelines and contributing nothing to the flow of conversation other than trivial nods and agreeable half-smiles. But Clara had singled him out, and now Bells was at last squirming around in her seat, her eyes patted with a popping, brilliant lime green as opposed to shimmery blue.

You tilted your head in questioning at Clara. “Yes, yes, we’ve been over this, girl. He’s been standing here the past five minutes.”

“Wonwoo!” Bells shrieked. “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“He doesn’t need to say anything.” Wonwoo heard the irritable grit rub through your voice as you straightened your posture and propped a hand to your hip, glaring at your friends. “Why don’t you let him enjoy his drink instead of shouting at him?”

From behind, Mingyu’s large hand slid around your waist and stopped at your lower stomach, pulling you a step back into his chest.

“Relax. She’s drunk as fuck, alright?” He murmured by your temple, planting a reassuring kiss.

“Nah, it’s okay.” Princess was quick to diffuse any degree of tension before it could morph into a terrifying flame. “He’s just quiet, that’s all. Nothing wrong with it. I like your hair, Wonwoo.”

He clenched his fist tight, nodding at her.

“Thanks.”

It was only one goddamn word, but he’d choked it out with all the strength harboured in his chest and lungs. Princess smiled at him.

“Glasses is cool. All his jokes will come out later.” Vernon teased despite the instant, needling stare Wonwoo shot his way.

“Hey, no pressure,” Seungcheol laughed, swiping his phone off the bar countertop. “Should we all head upstairs? I’ve got a nice little room set up for us—can smoke and mellow out a bit, play some cards, finally get to that blow—whatever you guys think is best.”

“Fuck, I’m down.” Sliding off the leather stool, Mingyu came to his feet and agreed, his hand still settled at your stomach.

His utterance was met with a chorus of likewise answers.

Wonwoo suddenly felt your fingertips graze his hand.

“Are you okay with that?” You asked him personally, smiling in a reassuring, nonchalant manner that helped ease his stiltedness.

“Yeah,” he answered, delighted to see the sparks that jumped into your eyes through the shadows and nebulas of lavender light.

The room Seungcheol had referred to was quite separated from the party booming onward downstairs, though he claimed not to be worried about it much since his other friends were keeping tabs on all the action. Wonwoo appreciated the quieter, more laidback atmosphere that allowed him to actually think and analyze his situation, which he unfortunately could not help himself from doing.

It was a cozy and personally developed space—probably the room Seungcheol spent most of his time in. Large, pristine movie posters were perfectly tapered to covering an entire wall, with stringed, dull-glowing lights swooped around the wooden infrastructure of the ceiling. A billiard ball table was toward the left, and then a circular table to the right, stacked with miscellaneous things such as playing cards, textbooks, and poker chips.

There were some shelves by the windows, mostly to hold decorative items, though Wonwoo saw a number of trophies from what he assumed to be Seungcheol’s past sports competitions.

Everyone began to settle.

As Vernon waltzed over to the couch by the cluttered table, he’d suddenly looked down at the cushions with a gruff shout.

“Fuck! Jesus Christ, Seokmin! What the fuck are you doin’?”

“Oh, yeah—the poor baby got a headache,” you crooned, walking toward the couch with a teasing smirk. “He thought he’d try and avoid all of us by coming up here and taking a nap.”

“I wasn’t napping,” Seokmin grumbled while pushing himself to sit up, swatting back your hand that rifled through his dark brown tresses disarrayed in every direction, “I was relaxing, that’s all.”

“Dude, you looked like you were dead,” Vernon laughed, stepping around from behind the couch to sit on the arm.

Leaning against a desk with two large speakers on it, Mingyu folded his arms, smiling at Seokmin whose face was beginning to tint red from all the attention. “That’s just how he looks when he sleeps.”

“Thanks…” Seokmin answered, standing up and dusting himself off. “Guess I’m never staying the night at your place again.”

“Well, if you’re not going to take the couch, I think these two should simmer down for a hot minute,” Princess said, shuffling the stumbling, giggling duo, Bells and Clara, to take a much needed seat.

“Okay, yeah. Mingyu, throw on some music. Give everyone a chance to get nice n’ comfy.” Seungcheol then beckoned toward Vernon. “Over here, man. Let’s get this shit sorted out.”

“Ah, right, right.”

His friend was quick to rise from the couch and meet Seungcheol in the corner of the room, by the billiard table as well as a small black safe. Mingyu pulled out his phone, linking up his Bluetooth with Seungcheol’s expensive sound system, and music soon replaced the empty air in the room. He then joined Seungcheol and Vernon in the corner. Wonwoo opted not to sleuth and glanced elsewhere.

He saw that you were already talking to Princess, the two of you pulling out some beers and other drinks from a fridge he hadn’t noticed before, and while he positively wanted to make time for a conversation with you, Wonwoo thought he should bother Seokmin first. The boy was shoving open a windowpane across the room.

“Hey, liar,” he announced in a dragging but not overly serious tone. “Not downstairs like you said you were, huh?”

Seokmin turned around, rubbing his face.

“I know, I know. I got a headache at the last minute. But I knew everyone would come upstairs. Glad you could make it!”

“Well then, how much of a headache should I be expecting?”

“Eh, depends,” his friend answered.

Wonwoo shrugged. “Depends on what?”

“I can’t imagine you jumping around on a countertop with your shirt off and a whippet in your hand.”

He snorted. “Is that what you were doing?”

“No—I was the one trying to get them off the counter.”

“Fair.”

“I think you’ll be fine. At most, you’ll step outside for some air and get a nice breeze in your hair. No biggie… what’s that?”

“Uh, just a drink this girl whipped up. Sierra.”

“Oh.” Seokmin’s eyes brightened. “You mean Sierra Gomez?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Did she have like, chin length, sort of coarse and frizzy brown hair? Freckles all over her cheeks? ‘Cause that’s Sierra Gomez. She works at the… the, um… Honeymoon! Yeah. The Honeymoon. She’s nice—used to stare at the back of your head all the time in calculus.”

“Hm.”

“Anyway—whatever—random thought.”

“Who used to stare at the back of your head in calculus?”

Turning around, Wonwoo noticed that you had approached their conversation at the open window, an abrupt flourish of wind sweeping back unto your inquisitive yet slightly firm expression. A bottle was in your hand, and you took a quick, easy sip from it.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Seokmin dismissed.

“No, tell me.”

Your eyes then flitted between himself and Seokmin. There was an innocent smile on your face that nursed the beer bottle.

“A girl who used to look at Wonwoo all the time during calculus with Bradbrook. She made him his drink, that’s all.”

“Really? Is that so?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Apparently.”

“Who?” You asked, still maintaining that polished smile.

Seokmin chuckled, “nah, you wouldn’t know her.”

“Maybe I do.”

“No,” he was persistent on convincing you, pulling at the flushed cusp of his ear, “I know you don’t. It’s not a big deal.”

Your focused gaze then lasered into Seokmin, and much of the airy politeness to your voice had gradually sharpened out.

“If it’s not a big deal then tell me.”

Music from the speaker system atop the nearby desk drowned the momentary silence that lasted between the three. Wonwoo concentrated on the lyrics and the depth of the sensual beat, trying his hardest to mentally escape the odd tension smouldering up.

Seokmin was biting his lip, hard.

“Tell me.” You now were demanding rather than asking.

“It’s not—”

“Seokmin!”

“Okay, okay! Sierra Gomez. That’s the girl.”

Wonwoo shifted his eyes to you, observing the manner in which you quirked your head, pursed your bottom lip, and began staring around the room in an honest attempt to place the name that Seokmin had so frighteningly blurted, almost like a suspect under interrogation. And then you were shrugging, sipping from your cold drink.

“Hm, don’t know her.”

“Like I said...” his friend sighed, leaning backward into the cool breeze and settling his hands against the windowsill.

“She’s here? And she made you that?” You asked.

Wonwoo looked down at his cup, almost completely emptied.

“… Um, yeah.”

There was a nearly imperceptible falter that spilt across your face, though it travelled so quickly, like a blink of light, and Wonwoo was starting to think that maybe he hadn’t even seen it at all.

“Well, that was really nice of her.” A strange breathiness lingered in your tone. “I mean, I don’t know her but she sounds really… nice. I’ll have to chat with her someday. I don’t know what we’ll talk about… something nice, probably. Yeah. We’ll do that.”

Upon sensing your very unusual discomfort, Wonwoo thought he might try to quell whatever series of emotions must be taking shape behind those glassy eyes. But almost from thin air, Mingyu was at your side, sliding an arm around your waist and his head poking down to kiss your cheek. Wonwoo ate his words right back up.

“Sorry to bite the conversation,” Mingyu excused himself, removing the arm from your waist to hang off your shoulder instead, where it covered the same revealing patch of your cleavage. “But I like keeping an eye on this one—” he pecked your temple, “—one sip she’s normal, the next she’s on top of the damn table giving everyone a fuckin’ show they don’t deserve. Hard to tell what she’s gonna do.”

Your uptight posture melted habitually against Mingyu’s chest, meanwhile a slight snarl forged across your lips.

Wonwoo knew that his drink was getting empty, and he didn’t want to waste the remainder on trying to survive the unfortunate conversation he’d been whisked into. He realized how much he hated talking to Mingyu, especially now that Wonwoo was closer to you.

“Alright, you don’t need to overembellish.”

“Ha! Overembellish?” A heavy laugh flew off Mingyu’s tongue as he gave your shoulder a soft shake, staring down at you with his curious, twinkling eyes. “What am I overembellishing, pretty girl? Huh? You don’t remember that dance with Clara? Kicking that dude’s drink off the table? High out of your fuckin’ mind, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I remember. My problem is that you’re painting me out to be a mindless slut just waiting to show off. It’s not like I go into these situations, intending to get on a table and kick people’s drinks and shit. I’m just going with what I feel in the moment. I mean, I’m sure it gets a bit slutty. But that’s part of the fun. At least, I think.”

Okay—Wonwoo didn’t give a fuck about preserving his drink any more. He immediately dove in to take a generous sip, staring down the cup like there was something profoundly captivating scribbled on the bottom. Now that he was thinking about it, Wonwoo realized this is his first time witnessing your dynamic with Mingyu.

Mingyu sighed, tongue prodding against his inner cheek.

“Can’t make it easy, can you?”

At that, you cackled, tipping your head against his neck.

“Never. You should know that by now.”

“The important thing is, everyone has a good time.” Seokmin decided to add his two cents, not seeming as stiffened by the conversation as Wonwoo, probably since he was accustomed to it.

Nonetheless, it prompted your signature eye roll.

“Hey everyone! Seokmin thinks the most important part of a party is that everyone has a good time!” You mockingly chided, proceeding to raise the bottle to your mouth for another sip while Mingyu rubbed his nose, laughing. “Did that really need to be said?”

Partially closing the window, Seokmin chuckled. “I’m just saying it ‘cause you guys always bicker and bring the mood down.”

Your grip around the beer bottle visibly tightened.

“Bicker?! We don’t bicker!”

“Are you serious?” Seokmin folded his arms, a disbelieving smile mixed with puzzlement carving his mouth. “You just did!”

“No, that wasn’t bickering," you stated. “That was Mingyu saying something stupid and me correcting it. Purely factual.”

Shaking his head, Mingyu merely smirked. “Mmhm. Let’s go with that.” Though, it was quite obvious he was holding back what he actually wanted to say, but didn’t want to prove Seokmin’s point.

“Anyways, I’m not trying to make you look bad,” Seokmin mumbled, brushing a hand along an itch on his arm. “So, whatever you see here, Wonwoo, take it with a grain of salt, I guess.”

God, no.

He’d wanted so desperately to remain invisible—to not be summoned into the conversation in any way, shape, or form.

“Please,” you sounded exasperated, messing about with your hair, “I’m sure Wonwoo’d be the last person to care, anyway.”

At the worst possible time, he’d completely exhausted his soda and rum, and there was not even a single drop for him to make a lame show of sipping up. Wonwoo didn’t know whether or not to say anything. Maybe, if he just smiled genuinely, nodded his head, then everything would keep moving and he could somehow escape the burdensome pressure. However, what he failed to realize was that his overthinking gave him a very dazed expression that made it seem as though he wasn’t listening at all. Seokmin suddenly slapped his arm.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Dude’s not even paying attention. Mentally checked out ‘cause of your arguing.”

“No. I’m listening,” Wonwoo answered, knowing the longer he stayed quiet the more guilty and strange he’d appear. “I just figure it’s better to let you guys hash it out. I’d rather not get involved.”

“Smart,” Mingyu huffed, to which Wonwoo found himself in the crosshairs of his intimidating gaze. “Best not to pick sides, right?”

“Oh my gosh, there are no sides.” Elbowing the tall, dark-haired boy gently in his rib, you shook your head. “And even if there were, I’m forcing him to take my side. You obviously have Seokmin.”

“When you are going to stop saying that?” Mingyu sounded notably annoyed at your comment, though you merely shrugged it off, instead wrapping a small hand with his in a successful attempt to pull him away from the conversation at the breezy window.

“Don’t whine, Gyu. Let’s go talk to Princess.”

Once you were gone, Wonwoo looked to Seokmin with some vague hope that he would share his astonishment at the situation. He couldn’t tell if you and Mingyu just clashed so naturally because your relationship was the long lasting, weathered kind where there were lots of little quips due to your shared comfortability. Or, maybe there was something else he was missing. But Seokmin didn’t seem even relatively phased, which lead Wonwoo into thinking that it was his overanalyzing brain picking things apart unnecessarily.

“Oh, I’ve gotta talk with Vernon for a sec.” His friend remembered, pointing out the tattooed boy who was closely admiring all the expensively framed film posters. “Nice to see you, though!”

The second Seokmin had slipped away, Wonwoo occupied his old position against the windowsill, letting his head tilt back until it bumped with the glass. A timidly building sickness ached in his stomach at the worry of all his conversations feeling like that—so agonizing, uncomfortable, with his mind racing a mile a minute.

He sighed aloud, attempting to steady his breathing.

Things would get better. They had to.

“Hey, Wonwoo! You wanna sit?”

Following the abrupt voice over to the now organized, tidied table, Wonwoo saw that it was Seungcheol who called his name. He tilted his head at an empty seat and Wonwoo decided to take the boy up on the offer rather than stumble into the undertow of his self-inflicted panic. Besides, Seungcheol was fairly relaxed and seemed easy to converse with—a much needed repose from Mingyu. As he sat down, setting his empty cup aside, Seungcheol leaned forward with his chin pressing down between his thumb and index finger.

“You okay?” He asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Wonwoo nodded. “I’m good.”

Relaxing back into his seat, Seungcheol smiled.

“Just making sure. I know it’s not always the easiest trying to make it through a Her-Mingyu-Seokmin three-way—pause—ignore how weirdly I phrased that,” he laughed, rubbing along his jaw.

The air around Wonwoo tinged with an immediate sense of relief, and he found himself relaxing, too, stretching out his legs.

“Yeah,” he then breathed out deeply, the tension in his chest loosening up. “I assume it’s best to just shut the fuck up.”

“Mmhm.” Seungcheol was eager to nod in agreement. “Yeah, exactly. Shut the fuck up, and give the most neutral answers if needed. It’s honestly a skill. You’ve gotta be a world class fence sitter.”

“So it seems.”

“Anyway, I’m curious—what’re you studying?”

“Nothing exciting. Mathematics, specifically calculus. I like a bit of data and statistics, too. I don’t know. Just, analyzing stuff.”

“Hm,” Seungcheol crossed his arms, grinning, “can’t say I’d be very good at all that. You want to be a data analyst or something?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve thought about teaching, too.”

“University?”

“Yeah… I heard you’re in biomedical now.”

“Mmhm—switched my whole degree—can thank Junhui for that. He’s around here, somewhere. I like it, though. No regrets about it or anything. Besides—” Seungcheol turned his head toward the billiard ball table where Princess was chatting with you and Mingyu, a fond, amorous expression softening his face, “—that’s how I met Princess. I mean, she’s so intelligent, level-headed, thoughtful. Finally worked up the courage to ask her out, like… two months ago, now? Things have been smooth sailing since.”

“I can see that. You guys mesh together well,” Wonwoo answered, at first staring at Princess, but sensing his eyes naturally drift toward you and that tight hold Mingyu had at your bare waist.

“Thanks, man. Hey—I should say congrats, by the way.”

“Hm?” Wonwoo mumbled, spreading his legs. “What for?”

“Frontiers. You got a super good score.”

“Oh, that… uh, thanks. I mean, it was last year.”

Seungcheol’s face immediately scrunched with laughter.

“What?”

“Shit. It’s nothing.” Seungcheol was still chuckling a bit between his breathy words. “I love how you shrug it off. Like, whenever your name comes up, it’s always next to how smart you are, man. I love that you don’t even fucking care. If that were me, I’d be the most pretentious piece of shit—it’s actually insane.”

Wonwoo paused for a second to think, looking at his sneakers, and then back at Seungcheol, the cogs in his mind beginning to whirr.

“I didn’t think my name would come up much. If at all.”

“No, no, it does,” he answered, bouncing his fist off the table with another chuckle. “Hey—you get around more than you think.”

Maybe Seungcheol’s words were supposed to be uplifting, or rewarding to hear, but Wonwoo felt his stomach drop and a horrible, papery dryness spread throughout his mouth. He absolutely hated the thought of people talking about him, discussing him, perceiving him.

“Oh, yeah! Shit, I’ve been meaning to ask—” Seungcheol brightened and shuffled further up in his seat, “—Mingyu says you speak Korean? Were you born there, or from your parents, maybe?”

Wonwoo picked at his thumb slightly.

“Uh, yeah, I do. I was born there.”

“Same. Daegu.”

“Changwon.”

Seungcheol smiled, and when he switched so fluidly from his English to Korean, Wonwoo needed a moment to comprehend the different syllables and speech patterns hitting his ear. It was almost like a glitch, but it was infinitesimal, and Wonwoo processed it quick.

“Mingyu didn’t know where you were born. He just said he’d spoken Korean with you. It’s nice to hear, right?”

“It is. My parents still live in Changwon. Though their English is limited so I hardly ever use it with them.”

Nodding his head in understanding, Seungcheol then propped a leg onto his knee and began to grin. “It’s the same for me. I don’t know if Mingyu’s told you—he wasn’t born there but his parents spoke it around him growing up.”

“I’ve heard…”

“So Seokmin says you like to write?”

“Yes. Reading and writing.”

“I’m not much of a writer. I used to love reading. I still do, actually. But it’s difficult to make time for it.”

Wonwoo agreed. He would have never pegged Seungcheol as someone who enjoyed reading, mostly due to his reputation and his plethora of outlandish, jock friends, though he was pleasantly surprised to hear it.

“I haven’t been reading much myself. Or writing. I’m in a burnout, I suppose.” A sigh fell defeatedly from Wonwoo’s mouth. “It’s frustrating. What kind of books did you read?”

“Nothing unique. Lord of the Rings. I went through a period of really liking Goosebumps, too.” He then bit his inner cheek in contemplation as he thought harder about his catalogue. “The weirdest book I remember reading was Walking Practice by Dolki Min. It gave me nightmares.”

“I’ve heard lots of mixed opinions about it.”

“It’s a book you read once, somehow manage to enjoy, but know you’ll never revisit… hm, it’s got me thinking…” Seungcheol was suddenly leaning forward, an arm dangling off the table as his forehead wrinkled with effort at placing a certain memory. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you used to date that girl who worked at the university library? I think her name was… shit—” he snapped his fingers a few times, bit down hard on his rosy lip while his dark brow furrowed, “—Jeanie? I believe that’s it. She always wore a little pin on her pullovers. Didn’t really talk much. At least not to me. She was shy but seemed sweet.”

For a second, Wonwoo thought he misheard Seungcheol—that the music from the speaker system was blaring much too loud and he somehow misinterpreted a word or sentence. He even dug into his ear for a second, sat up in his chair instead of casually leaning backward.

“What?”

Wonwoo hadn’t even realized he’d dropped his Korean.

“Oh, I was asking about that girl you used to date. It was Jeanie, right? She worked at the university library.” When Wonwoo kept staring at him without so much as a sound, blink, or even a tiny twitch, Seungcheol waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Fuck, my bad. I’m probably confusing you with someone else.”

“No... you’re not.”

It had felt like a gunshot—realizing the specific pronunciation and shaping of Seungcheol’s lips hadn’t been misinterpreted at all. He was in fact saying what Wonwoo dreaded, feared, like the ghost stories from his childhood that his brother would utter through a white, dying flashlight until Wonwoo uncontrollably wept. Like the last step at his parents’ house he used to constantly miss, his heart practically jamming into his throat each and every time. It was that slow, nauseating accumulation of anxiety in his stomach, coming to buzz and rumble akin to a beehive. It was all those stupid mistakes.

Jeanie. To hear her name in another person’s mouth was almost sickening. To think about her again was pure heartache.

“That’s what I figured,” Seungcheol said. “She was nice, but I don’t think she came back in the fall… I don’t want to assume anything. Just a memory.” He reeled back on the topic as Wonwoo sat adjacent to him, paler than an alabaster pearl.

“Yeah…” he managed to croak out, feeling a rasp develop somewhere deep in his throat, “we’re not together anymore.”

“Hey, it is what it is,” Seungcheol affirmed, putting on a sincere smile that Wonwoo found a pinch of solace in. “We don’t have to fuckin’ mull over it or anything. All that shit’s in the past, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Right. You’re here now, amongst friends, I hope.”

Wonwoo swallowed, thinking about what Seungcheol said.

He then shifted his head toward the billiard ball table. Vernon was now involved in a very passionate conversation with Mingyu that Wonwoo was unable to hear from his distance. The two boys were bouncing back and forth, animated in their hand motions and expressions, meanwhile you and Princess were passing the most subtly judgmental looks between each other. For a moment, Wonwoo’s gaze caught your own, to which you shot him an innocuous eye roll paired with a small but tenderly growing smile. That thick uneasiness in his chest pulled back like a receding ocean tide and Wonwoo knew he was okay again.

Seungcheol took note of the glance, and he grinned.

“It seems you’re pretty close with Her.”

Turning his attention back to Seungcheol, Wonwoo nodded.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. She’s… um…”

“Hard to describe, isn’t she?” Seungcheol answered for him, now observing the scene at the billiard ball table as well.

Wonwoo almost hesitated asking his next question, but before his brain could make much sense of it, he was already speaking.

“Does Mingyu always do that?”

Seungcheol chuckled, “do what?”

“He’s on her like a fucking sticker.”

Undoubtedly, his heart sank in at the predictable answer.

“Yeah, Gyu’s always got his eye on her. I understand where he’s coming from. She attracts a lot of attention. He straight up socked this dude in the face last year for hitting on her. I mean, to be fair, he was drunk and Her can tend to be a little… well, she likes to push his buttons. It was high tension all night. Bound to explode.”

Remembering his meal at Solar Pop with Vernon a few weeks ago, Wonwoo knew how anxious his friend had been at the thought of getting ungracefully decked in the face by Mingyu’s knuckles. While it never happened—and Wonwoo was certain then that it wouldn’t—he would hate to be on the receiving end of whatever power Mingyu did pack behind a serious punch. Wonwoo despised fighting and conflict. There was often a cutting, wolfish nature wading about Mingyu’s dark gold eyes that quite frankly petrified him enough.

Considering how fearful Vernon had seemed, Wonwoo was surprised the boy was even talking with Mingyu so freely. But that forgiving, never-take-anything-too-seriously gene was just embedded straight into Vernon’s core. He could get along with anybody.

“Hm,” was all Wonwoo hummed in response.

Since he had been laser-focused analyzing the cordial, humorous conversation between Vernon and Mingyu, he failed to note that Princess had joined her boyfriend at the table. Upon turning his head out of worry he might be caught staring, Wonwoo finally saw the beautiful girl leaning against Seungcheol’s back from behind; her arms draped comfortably around his neck and her cheek pressed to his midnight black hair. Wonwoo flashed an awkward half-smile.

“You guys getting to know each other?” She asked.

Seungcheol exchanged an agreeing glance with Wonwoo.

“Mmhm. We’re basically two peas in a pod now,” the boy proceeded to joke while Princess grinned down at him, her eyes gleaming. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool. One smart cookie, y’know?”

“Wow. Smarter than you, yeah?” She laughed, now straightening up and resting just a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, can’t be a winner in everything.”

“Oh. Maybe you can’t.”

“Shit—watch yourself, missy.”

Seungcheol quickly twisted around in his chair, managing to catch Princess by the waist and playfully wrestle her onto his lap. She hardly fought in retaliation against him, a huge, warm smile glowing from her face as she let herself get wrapped in his squeezing arms.

Wonwoo wasn’t sure if he wanted to throw up. It’s not that he was some spiteful, self-loathing recluse who couldn’t stand seeing others in healthy relationships—it wasn’t that at all. What he despised was the loneliness it reflected unto himself, and the deeply unsettling thought that he was just too damaged, insecure, and unlovable to ever truly warrant the pure trust of another. He feared he could never bring his inner self to fruitfully open in such vulnerable ways.

“Hey, Wonwoo. I just noticed your cup’s empty.”

When he connected with the earnest gaze of Princess, he realized she was pointing at the red cup left untouched by his elbow.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Do you want a beer? Or a chaser?” She offered in a polite tone as Seungcheol gently moved her long braids aside to drape over her far shoulder. “We have lots of stuff in the fridge over there.”

He bit into his lip, thinking.

“Doesn’t have to be a drink,” Seungcheol said, shrugging. “If you smoke, I’ve got some stuff already crushed up. Uh, I’ve got a bong around here somewhere. I think it’s on the shelf. Rolling papers, too. Don’t know how you prefer to smoke it.”

“Papers, usually,” Wonwoo answered.

“Cool. I’ve got that.”

With two soft, careful hands gliding up her waist, Seungcheol sweetly urged Princess to her feet and then pitched an announcement that anyone interested in smoking could come to the table.

Princess swiped the blue bong from Seungcheol’s shelf.

“I’m going for a bowl,” she said, clicking her tongue.

“Ou, me too!” Clara chirped, using Bells’ arm to help shove herself off the sofa, ignoring the way her friend whined.

“I’ll come sit with you guys,” Princess added, “just make a little room. And try not to throw up on me if you can help it.”

Wonwoo was in the midst of being accompanied at the table, with Vernon dragging out the chair to his left while Mingyu occupied the seat across from him. He watched the boy’s arm stretch out to accommodate you onto his lap, and Wonwoo assumed the hand he couldn’t see was groping your thigh underneath the table. In the pit of his stomach, Wonwoo knew what that slimy, bitter feeling was, though he refused to acknowledge it—he wouldn’t even look at you.

Seungcheol tossed a ziplock bag filled with weed onto the table and spread out an array of thin, dull, white rectangular papers.

Immediately, Vernon was tugging on Wonwoo’s sleeve.

“Can you roll mine, dude?”

“Hm?” Mingyu grunted, seeming amused. “You’re asking Wonwoo to roll your joint? You're a fucking drug dealer.”

“I’ve never met anyone who can roll as good as him,” his friend complimented, leaning back in the wooden chair and firmly shaking Wonwoo’s shoulder. “If he’s in the room, I’m gettin’ him to roll. He’s got nice, talented, dexterous fingers. Isn’t that right?”

Reaching for a translucent paper and smoothing out the crinkles, a suspect arch made its way to Wonwoo’s brow, meanwhile the tips of his ears burned with all the eyeballs examining his every fucking move. Wonwoo opened the baggie, beginning to shake out the pre-grinded bud as he held the paper in a curled shape.

“Please don’t talk about my fingers like that,” he muttered, pushing up his glasses. “Check that. You want a little more or less?”

“Nah, leave it at that,” Vernon answered.

Brushing a hand through his hair, Seungcheol then crossed his arms, smirking. “I wanna see it when you’re done rolling.”

“Me too,” Mingyu agreed, staring Wonwoo down like a hawk.

“Great. Why don’t we pass the joint around the table when he’s done with it, and we can all grade it. How fun,” you mumbled sarcastically, slumping forward and resting your chin against a palm.

“You gonna smoke or not, sweetheart?” Mingyu asked.

“I don’t know yet…”

Wonwoo knew you were staring at him while he fiddled with removing a crease in the partially rolled paper, because there was an itch crawling along him, like a sunburn, but not quite. Though, he opted to continue focusing on the joint, even with your eyes breathing him in from across the table, craving his acknowledgement.

“Lick there,” he instructed, holding the paper for Vernon.

From the couch, Wonwoo heard a bubbly laugh. It was Bells, her legs kicked up onto Princess’ lap without a care in the world while Princess sparked a lighter to help Clara ignite the sapphire bowl.

“Wonwoo, if you make one for me, can you lick it?”

He simply ignored her while carefully tucking at the joint.

Wonwoo turned to Vernon again. “Lick.”

After some finely tuned adjustments that required his utmost focus, Wonwoo was at last satisfied with the roll, then handing the joint off to Vernon for him to further pack and twist up. Once his friend finished the job, he passed the joint back to Wonwoo, who further gave it down to Seungcheol. The boy glanced over it closely.

“Damn… that’s pretty fuckin’ good, can’t lie.”

“Let me see," Mingyu practically demanded, granting Seungcheol the slimmest opportunity to even pass the joint along.

He’d snatched it up and settled back in his seat—nearly sliding you straight off his lap in the process—squinting to find some stupid imperfection or mistake he could point out, though, there was nothing. Without a word, he passed the smoke to Vernon.

“See? Told ‘ya. Glasses never fails me.”

“If you don’t mind—” Seungcheol rubbed at his bottom lip, staring at Wonwoo with a quirked eyebrow, “—could I get one?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Mingyu won’t say it but you should roll one for him, too.”

As Wonwoo pulled another paper toward him, he managed to look at you, and the little spark that jumped into your pretty eye. He smiled because you were smiling, and that always made him feel so inexplicably warm inside, like the soft melting of browned caramel.

“I can do that,” he said, to which Mingyu nodded his head.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll roll one for you, too, Her. I mean, if you want it.”

“Okay. That’s sweet. Maybe later.”

You smiled at him again.

He smiled back.

Wonwoo wasn’t sure how it happened or who initially decided the idea, but someone had suggested poker, and now the entire table was cleared off with the exception of Seungcheol’s playing cards and the multi-coloured chip stacks. They decided on classic Texas Hold’em because everyone who’d decided to join was most familiar with the style, though Wonwoo cared to dabble more in Blackjack as there was a mathematical basis to it that scratched a satisfying itch in his brain. Nonetheless, he was fairly good at Texas Hold’em, too.

Vernon hated playing with him, and he made that extremely apparent through his moaning while Princess shuffled the card deck. There was a decent number of people playing—only you, Clara, and Bells chose to sit on the sidelines and observe. Wonwoo had wanted you to play, but you kept declining, even without a concrete reason.

“Okay, everyone’s familiar with the rules, right?” Princess asked for clarification, at first burning the top card off the deck. “I’ll play dealer first round. That makes Seungcheol the small blind and Wonwoo the big blind. N'remember, you guys signed up for this, so if you can't afford to blow some money then you better be good.”

Everyone collectively agreed, and Princess began dealing the cards to all contenders until there was two before each person. Wonwoo wasn't exactly in the best position to be owing people cash, but he was a pretty solid player in his experience, though he was most comfortable going against Vernon and Seokmin. They had done a few poker nights at the random houses Vernon always claimed he was looking after for a friend. He had no idea what Seungcheol or Mingyu would be like as players. It did scare him a little.

Seungcheol made his move first—just a dollar, the equivalent of a single white-coloured chip. Wonwoo had to double the bet, so he moved out two white chips instead. Vernon decided to raise the amount to four chips, and Seokmin called the bet, matching it. Mingyu went next, his figure appearing foggy from across the table as the air became increasingly tinged with ruffles of smoke.

He called.

Seungcheol and Wonwoo both called at their turns, and thus, the first round of betting had ended. Everyone pushed forward their chips for Princess to collect, creating their small, measly looking pot.

Wonwoo kept the joint poised between his pointer and middle finger as he slyly gleaned the suit and ranks of his hand, keeping both cards flush against the table, just lifting their corners.

It didn’t seem like much and would probably result in little reward—an eight of clovers and a three of spades—but Wonwoo wasn’t looking to show out in the very first game, anyway.

He glanced toward the couch, where you were squished almost shoulder to shoulder against Clara and Bells. The bong was sat in your lap as you leaned down over the mouthpiece and sparked at the cannabis packed into the bowl. Bells curled at her long, black hair, heels dug into the edge of the coffee table, eyes glazed as pastries.

“I didn’t get anything from that,” she mumbled.

“That’s ‘cause you don’t know how to play,” Princess chuckled, again burning another card off the deck before setting down three more at the centre of the table, creating the flop.

Nine of diamonds, seven of hearts, and six of clovers.

Everyone took a minute to examine the flop, comparing it with the cards they had stowed close to their chests. Wonwoo, however, didn’t even bother comparing, as he already knew his move.

“Hm…” Seungcheol paused, rubbing at his chin and sucking in his bottom lip. “I think I’ll check.” He then leaned back, placing forth no bet at all, and instead looked to Wonwoo for his decision.

“Fold.”

“Ha!” Vernon practically choked beside him, the joint almost spat from his mouth, and Wonwoo felt the boy’s hand push in a teasing pressure at his shoulder. “You’re such a piece of shit, man.”

“Why is he a piece of shit?” Bells wondered.

“Just, uh—ah, never mind,” Vernon capitulated, still somewhat chuckling under his breath as Wonwoo smiled at him. “I’m gonna bet. I’ll put out some of these.” He slid out the required chips, forest-green in colour, each valued at twenty-five dollars.

Nibbling on his fingertip, Seokmin shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I’m folding.”

Princess smiled. “No, it’s okay! Mingyu next.”

“Hm, call,” he responded, matching Vernon's dare.

The attention returned to Seungcheol, who was rooted in his indecisiveness, pressed fingers masking half his face as he stared down at the three community cards, brow furrowed with thought.

Eventually, he shrugged. “Fuck it. I’m folding too.”

“Not feeling lucky, babe?” Princess grinned, collecting the bets placed by Vernon and Mingyu to the growing pot.

“I’m treading cautiously, let’s just say that.” He smirked.

After revealing the fourth community card, another round ensued between Vernon and Mingyu. Wonwoo relaxed back into his seat, an analyzing eye shifting from his tattooed, face-pierced friend to the stoic and collected Mingyu who was awaiting Vernon’s turn.

Wonwoo held his bottom lip between sharp teeth, then staring down at his lap in an attempt to smother that prying, wide smile, knowing the exact move his friend would make. It was Vernon, after all. And he always played big, even when he shouldn’t.

“Bet. Here you go.”

More of those green chips were moved out.

Mingyu huffed, tongue curling against his pronounced canine. “I don’t believe you, dude.”

Vernon cackled, propping up his knee and setting the heel of his sneaker onto the chair. He exhaled a smooth hit from his joint.

“Okay. Raise, then.”

Seungcheol chuckled, sharing a laugh with Seokmin who was sipping at a beer bottle from across the table.

“Fine—have it your way.”

"I’ll call.”

“Not feeling so confident, yeah?” Mingyu proceeded to laugh, eyeing Vernon closely with a testing, intrigued expression.

“I’ll let the showdown speak for itself,” Vernon pitted back.

Again, Princess collected their chips and rid the deck of its top card, and then placed down the fifth and final community card, establishing the river and the arrangement from which Vernon and Mingyu would need to create the most powerful hand. Each boy at last turned over their deck, and it was clear cut who was the winner.

“Mingyu’s got a full house,” Princess explained, standing up and leaning forward to swivel the card combination into place. “Take these three from the river, plus his nine of hearts and seven of clovers—that’s a three of a kind and a pair. Vernon can at most make a straight.” She then sat back down, pushing the entire pot to Mingyu.

“Did you win, baby?” After remaining silent for the entire game, you had finally perked up from the couch, admittedly buzzed.

Brushing back his hair, he smirked. “I won. Mr. Drug Dealer owes me about three-hundred dollars. But I guess you've just got that laying around somewhere? Stuffed up your pillow case?”

Vernon laughed, then took a deep, long drag from his joint. "If you're not sleepin' against a pillow case full of cash, I'm happy to officially give you the opportunity. Takes away all your stress."

“Congratulations,” you flashed a hazy smile at your boyfriend, courtesy of the smoke wafting through the air, like you were caught in a reverie, “I'm glad all those Sundays were well spent.”

“Okay, we’ll move down now,” Princess announced, reorganizing the cards into a deck. “Seungcheol’s the dealer, Wonwoo is the small blind, and Vernon’s the big blind this time.”

They continued to play until everyone at the table had a chance at being the blinds and the dealer. Wonwoo folded every round. He knew it might've been ignorant and distrustful, but to him, it was the perfect opportunity to see inside everyone's bag of tricks.

He’d developed a fairly foolproof inkling toward their tactics and gives. Seokmin was by far the easiest player to make fold, though Wonwoo was already well aware—he would only hold his ground if there was confidence in his hand, but even then, anyone else calling Seokmin’s bet always engendered him to squirm. And while Vernon was still a more seasoned player by comparison, his brashness and tentative nature toward folding was often his downfall.

Seungcheol and Princess were a bit harder to read.

They were alike in their more cautious, calculating style of play, and Princess clearly had experience with orchestrating poker matches. Seungcheol, however, would routinely make the same mistake that Wonwoo had noticed straight away—touching or covering his face. When he was most confident, his fingers would sit more around his chin, or jaw, and when he was dealt a shitty hand with little to no promise of creating something notable from the community cards, those fingers etched further toward his lips.

You had still refused to join the match when offered by Princess, though you were paying greater attention to the game—even stopping by to hover with interest at Mingyu’s shoulder.

Princess was back to being the dealer.

Seungcheol was again the small blind. “I’ll put up twenty.”

Wonwoo grabbed two stacks of his chips and slid them outward to double the boy’s forced bet. “Forty.”

Everyone called.

Since the pot had gone unraised, Wonwoo decided to push forth more of his chips, adding on another twenty in small stacks. “Raise.”

The eagerness to increase the bet had drained. Again, all parties at the table simply called, and Wonwoo was feeling quite confident.

“Flop time,” Princess said with a smile, neatly setting out three cards at the table’s centre for everyone to glean.

Seungcheol checked. So did Wonwoo.

“Raise.” Vernon was persistent in his choice.

Everyone matched the increased bet, now sitting at eighty chips, until it fell upon Wonwoo’s turn. Expectant eyes were drilling holes into him like he was plywood at a construction site. Under normal circumstances, Wonwoo would abhor it more than anything else, but he was otherwise relaxed and in tune with his decisions as the joint smoke warmly fluttered around him. Coughing out a tickle from his throat, he grabbed another stack of his chips.

“It’s at eighty, so I’ll push to a hundred.”

“Cunt,” Vernon coughed, though he matched the raise without so much as a leg shake or a bite at his glinting lip ring.

“Fold,” Seokmin sighed, forfeiting his hand to Princess.

Wonwoo looked across the table, watching your fingertips squeeze into Mingyu’s thick shoulders as he pondered his choice.

“Call.” He eventually decided with a shrug.

Seungcheol agreed.

By the fifth community card, Wonwoo, Mingyu, Seungcheol, and Vernon were still engaged in the match. From his analysis, Wonwoo was sure he would take the pot. Seungcheol was rubbing just below his lip using a slow thumb—there was uncertainty and doubt in the gesture. Vernon’s willingness to raise was merely intended to pressure out the others, but it hadn’t worked, and his quietness suggested there might be regret, and still, confidence, that he could somehow get away with it. Finally, Wonwoo saw Mingyu.

He'd played a handful of poker—specifically Texas Hold’em—with Mingyu when they had taken that probability elective last year.

The thing was, Mingyu had this gold-plated guise of believing his casual, unbothered demeanour couldn’t be disrupted under any circumstance—that no one would catch that transient slip of credence in those molten brown eyes or note the way he cracked the wood in the chair from fidgeting when the silence was too heavy and all-encompassing. But Wonwoo would notice. He could see it clearer than glass. The more Mingyu disguised it, the easier it poured out.

“Alright, showdown. Let’s see your hands.”

Everyone flipped their cards.

A moment of silence ensued, and then—

“Fuck you, Wonwoo,” Vernon grunted, jabbing his side.

Both him and Seungcheol could make a straight flush, but since the rank of Wonwoo’s cards were higher, he took the win.

Not to mention the rather large, admirable pot. He was pretty pleased to see those colourful bills being forked out from the losers' wallets. It truly did pay off to play with rich people, and Mingyu and Seungcheol's pockets seemed endless.

By Wonwoo's third joint of the night, he’d won more rounds than anyone sitting at the table. Vernon had cursed at him a fair amount, Seokmin hardly wanted to play anymore amongst the serious tycoons that surrounded him, and wallets were running drier than any desert. The effects of all that smoke wafting through the air and meddling with his senses was starting to take effect.

He could potentially last another round before his most concrete thinking would get whittled down to thoughtless guesses.

Before the final round had started, Wonwoo glanced down at his phone to check the time. Holy shit—one in the morning. He’d been at the party for almost three fucking hours and he was miraculously still functioning and somehow not crawling with the desperation to leave. You were seated back at the couch, head leaning on Clara’s shoulder as you waited, misty-eyed, for the final game to start. Wonwoo decided to text you even though you were sitting no less than five feet away.

[ Wonwoo | 1:02 am ]: Play the final round.

He watched as you picked up the phone from your lap to read the text message, and then, you were squinting at him in judgement.

[ Her | 1:02 am ]: um no

His thumbs fired back a response.

[ Wonwoo | 1:02 am ]: Why?

[ Her | 1:02 am ]: bc I don’t want to

[ Wonwoo | 1:03 am ]: You don’t know how to play?

[ Her | 1:03 am ]: ik how to play

[ Wonwoo | 1:03 am ]: So play.

[ Wonwoo | 1:03 am ]: Take Seokmin’s place.

[ Wonwoo | 1:03 am ]: Please? Should I beg for it?

Your scoff could be heard from the couch, and Wonwoo had to remind himself to steam out the smile twitching on his lips.

[ Her | 1:04 am ]: is it really that important to u?

[ Wonwoo | 1:04 am ]: Yes.

[ Her | 1:04 am ]: fine

[ Her | 1:04 am ]: just don’t come crying to me when u lose

Feeling especially triumphant that he was able to convince you, Wonwoo observed with a pleased smirk your quest to Seokmin’s place at the table, where you tapped his shoulder and told him to take five. The boy didn’t need to be told twice, allowing you his seat almost gratefully.

“Awe, you’re not gonna stay for the finale?” Princess asked in a crooning voice while shuffling the card deck between her hands.

Seokmin grabbed his skinny bottle of beer off the table and shook his head, his face glowing and his eyes beginning to hood.

“I’ve learned my lesson about this game: I’m not good at it, I don’t have the money, and that I should never play with Wonwoo.”

“Or me?” Vernon gestured, turning out a palm expectantly.

“Uh, right. And Vernon.”

Picking a fluff from Seokmin’s shirt and flicking it into the air, you merely shrugged, flashing him a comforting smile.

“Y’know, it’s a good thing you suck,” you said, then leaning back in the chair and folding your arms. “It means you’re a bad liar.”

“Nice to play with you, alright?” Seungcheol added, grabbing onto the boy’s hand and giving it a firm clasp as he walked by.

“Thanks. I think I’ll go back downstairs and see if I can find more people I know. Enjoy the game, guys! Tell me who wins!”

“Probably me,” you answered, waving him goodbye.

“Hm, I didn’t think you’d play at all,” Mingyu remarked while Princess began sorting out cards to everyone, and Wonwoo noted the boy's leg jostling underneath the table. “Feeling confident, are you?”

Poking out your tongue playfully at Mingyu, you smiled. “Yes. Don’t even think about trying to riddle me. I’ll see right through it.”

The game started out as usual. Seungcheol and Wonwoo offered the blind bets, and everyone at the table called. No one seemed keen to fold, even when Princess revealed the flop and his heart smacked in another resounding thump. An eight of spades, a king of spades, and an eight of clovers. Wonwoo then slipped his gaze around the table, particularly studying you, who hadn’t stopped grinning since the game started. Of course you would be grinning. There was nothing very coy or subtle about you upon any first glance.

Wonwoo discreetly lifted the corners to his playing cards. He caught the wind in his chest. There was an ace of spades, his very first all night, paired with a nine of spades. It took all his self-control to remain muted on the outside and let his joint continue burning.

At the fourth community card, the pressure was starting to seep through, and the intimidating, stacked size of the pot collected before Princess was only making the fold especially tempting.

Every time it seemed like a call was in order, someone would raise, and the bets kept climbing until the glass ceiling was at last hit.

Seungcheol brushed antsy hands down the back of his head, scattering his hair and puffing out his chest in a large, accepting sigh.

“I’ve gotta fold. There’s no way.”

Balancing a joint at the corner of his mouth, Wonwoo grabbed another stack from his chips and slid it outward, knowing there was little to no chance he would lose the round.

“Raise,” he announced, exhaling a deep breath.

“Oh my God,” Vernon mumbled into his palm, taking a moment to tap his fingers against the wood, “… I have to fold. Yeah, I’ve gotta. A smart man like myself knows when to quit. You got me. Fucker.”

Unphased by the hopeless, daunting feeling that swelled around the table, you merely crossed a leg and dared to not only match, but raise the amount of chips that Wonwoo had audaciously put forth. Mingyu was slumped in his chair with a musing expression, eyes stung red and the thick fronds of his hair messily strewn about from how often his fingers dug through them. He eventually cleared his throat from the hot prickle and shook his head in conviction.

“No, you’re lying. I don’t believe it.”

But you just smirked and fluttered your lashes.

“What’s your move then, babe?”

“I’ll check.” Mingyu shrugged, agitated by his own response.

And to that, Wonwoo poured more gasoline on the fire.

“Raise.”

“There is no fuckin’ way your cards are that good,” Vernon grumbled between half-sealed lips, attempting to hold the joint still with his mouth while he sparked the end using his lighter.

“I’m raising your raise,” you challenged, “one-hundred.”

As his hand fell onto the table with a loud rattle, Vernon started to cackle. “There’s no way your cards are that good, either.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You lilted.

“Mingyu?” Seungcheol hummed to get the boy’s attention. “It’s your move, man. What’re you gonna do?”

Wonwoo could see it scribbled all over Mingyu’s face. He didn’t want to get caught in the intense bidding flare between you, because he obviously knew his cards weren’t high enough rank to claim the pot at showdown. Wonwoo wasn’t planning to fold because the community cards were aligned in his favour. That steely, brash façade of the golden boy across from him was wearing increasingly thinner and Mingyu had seemed to realize it himself. After an almost agonizing silence, he pushed his cards away from him, forfeiting.

“Yeah, I can’t do it. Fuck you guys.”

“Oh, that’s too bad, sweetheart. That’s too bad, ” you giggled, leaning over to sling an arm around his shoulders and stipple his cheek in small kisses that Mingyu wriggled from.

“Alright, just fuckin’ get to the showdown already,” he tutted.

Wonwoo couldn’t have been happier that Mingyu removed himself from the game. It was solely between him and you, now.

“You raised to one-hundred?” He asked for clarification.

Nodding your head, you agreed. “Yes. One-hundred.”

The thing was, Wonwoo knew he was going to win. Even without Princess revealing the final community card, there was an opportunity for him to make a straight flush. Unless an unprecedented stroke of luck had fallen into your own hand and you could somehow make a royal flush, the game was already decided.

Unless Wonwoo folded.

“I’ll raise,” he answered, wanting to test your limits.

“Jesus, this is gonna take all fuckin’ night, isn’t it?” Vernon proceeded to groan while exercising his stiff shoulder.

You smiled, and a glint illuminated in your eyes like a fallen star the size of a perfect sand grain.

“Should I make it more interesting?”

Uncrossing your leg, you sat up straight, pressing tight against the table as you braced an arm behind your remaining chips and shoved them forward slowly, right into the table’s centre. Everyone began to mumble excitedly at the brazen act, though Wonwoo could only focus on you and that mischievous but beautiful curve to your lips, ignoring everything else in the room.

“All in.”

He felt a fist lightly strike his chest.

“Glasses! You’ve gotta match that!”

Seungcheol was rubbing along his chin, grinning.

“That’s gonna make a huge pot… lotta money…”

“He’s been making moves all game,” Princess laughed. “Not that I’m pressuring you, Wonwoo. I mean, it’s your call.”

Mingyu shook his head. “She’s so bluffing.”

“Hush up so he can think!” Vernon cackled.

There was so much sound and noise and voices. But, through the cacophony and haze of all those distractions, Wonwoo could see into you so clearly it was like you had become magically transparent. In turn, you were staring at him, awaiting his response, and he felt those sharp eyes shearing at his fabricated thoughts, picking them all apart into little corners and strips and threads. It was impossibly subtle, and only Wonwoo caught it—your head just beginning to shake in disagreement.

However, Wonwoo had already made his decision.

“I’m folding.”

Vernon’s fists struck down on the table like a thunderous clap, and the tension nailed into the atmosphere suddenly burst.

Before Wonwoo could even make sense of the exploding conversation, his cards were pulled away from him by Princess. She flipped over both yours and his hand.

“Wonwoo, you stupid fuck!” Vernon practically leapt from his chair, wriggling at the boy’s shoulder. “That’s a straight fl—oh my god! I’m actually so—you could have easily won that!”

“Okay, okay. She’s got a straight flush, too!” Princess called, pointing down at your cards. “But Wonwoo’s rank is higher.”

“Doesn’t matter, anyway,” Mingyu said, pushing back in his chair and stretching out his muscular arms. “He folded. Her wins.”

Seungcheol sifted through the colourful chips.

“Looks like he owes you about five-hundred bucks.”

Continuing to smile at you, Wonwoo picked the joint back between his lips, borrowing Vernon’s lighter to fizzle the end and keep the paper burning. Your arms were crossed, hardly pleased.

“Looks like I do.” Wonwoo accepted through a wispy exhale of smoke, rolling out his shoulders and further quirking his lips.

After the final poker match, everyone decided to disseminate and take about half an hour to excuse themselves. Mingyu went back downstairs with Seungcheol so they could keep an eye on the general rowdiness, making sure people hadn’t started rioting or smashing vases, swinging from chandeliers and drinking questionable concoctions out of high-heeled boots.

Vernon wandered off in search for a washroom since Princess had occupied the nearest one down the staircase, at first helping nurse Clara through her incoming bout of alcohol sickness, with Bells joining them a few minutes afterward when that last sip decided to lurch back up her throat.

Only you and Wonwoo remained in the attic.

He was sat widespread at the sofa, slumped down, eyes closed, attempting to appreciate the high that could be attributed to the third joint he was now halfway through smoking. But then he felt the cushion beside him dip, and there was a pinch sinking rather harshly into the flesh on his hand that made his eyes fling back open.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Wonwoo moaned, rubbing over the small, crescent shaped branding dug by your fingernail.

Settling down notably close to Wonwoo, your knee prodded into his thigh while your one leg folded over the other. That scowl had yet to be ironed out from your countenance, and he could only suspect you were about to come down hard in regards to his stunt.

“Boo hoo. You’re such a lying liar who lies.”

Wonwoo stretched out a hand to his face, massaging slow against his temples while he sighed, “lying’s part of the game...”

“No—” the retort shot out with an electrifying quickness, “—not your type of lying. Your double-crossed lying. You’re a fraud.”

“A fraud?” He echoed, letting the hand fall into his lap. “Okay, that’s a bit accusatory. I wouldn’t call what I did fraudulent.”

Shifting his elbow off the arm of the couch, the joint was poised back at his lips, and Wonwoo couldn’t help but chuckle at your glaring, stiff face. He swiftly blew out his hit, smirking hard.

“I hate you for what you did. I mean, you should have gone all in and matched me. But, no! You took the wuss route and made me look stupid! It taints everything. And you better wipe away that jovial curl in your lip before I sock it off your face and steal your cig.”

Wonwoo tilted his head at you, perking an eyebrow.

“How’d you know my cards were better?”

At first, the question visibly stumped you. There was a lag in your response—an open mouth but not a single word to follow.

Then, it seemed as though you breathed out all your rage.

“Don’t ask such a dumb question,” sounded your calm sigh, with a leg bobbing up and down, “you made it so obvious.”

“I did? Hm.”

“Yeah…I know your tactic. You make everyone feel and nice and comfortable playing with you. Then, you totally flip the script and pull out the rug.” Your shoulder was digging into his and you two were now squished together so closely that he could feel your radiating warmth and smell the fragrance in your hair. “For someone who’s so damn quiet, your eyes are like a book. They just swim and trash with everything you’re thinking. So, don’t think you’re all that.”

Wonwoo switched the joint to his other hand, instead leaning against his fist and peering aside at you who seemed so certain of everything. Admittedly, he’d never heard that before, and if he weren’t beyond drowned in the watery red glowing behind his hooded gaze, your spiel would have downright terrified him.

It wasn’t that you just knew Wonwoo, it was that you were beginning to understand him and the way his mind operated.

No—if he were sober, that thought would obliterate him.

He shrugged. “I don’t think I’m all that.”

“Blah, blah. Y’know, the one thing about you that bothers me—you’re actually not a loser. People like you Wonwoo. People are impressed by you. They want to know you. And you just keep them at bay with your stinging hot fireplace poker, jabbing at them in case they get too close. I see it. And—I don’t know, maybe you’re right to keep all those people out. Maybe it gives you more control.”

Wonwoo dragged a hand along his face, laughing. “I think I’m a little too high to be having that conversation with you.”

“No, you’re not. You just don’t want to talk about it as usual. I don't suppose you've got five-hundred big ones in your wallet, do you?”

He shot you an obvious glance while chuckling, "absolutely fucking not. But sit tight, though. I can get it to you somehow."

Your head shook. "I don't care about the money."

He stared down at the joint aglow in his hand.

And then he was holding it out in front of you.

“Hit?”

You hesitated, but ultimately grabbed it, positioning the joint between your index and middle finger akin to a cigarette. Wonwoo watched intently at the soft inhale you breathed in, and the gradual relaxing of your chest as the smoke was gently puffed outward.

“Not so tough, is it?” He hummed in his deep, velvet-smooth voice, to which you squinted at him and scrunched your nose.

“I just studied how you did it, that’s all.”

Your knee was now pressed atop his lap. Wonwoo felt that momentary, passionate itch to settle his palm flat against your warm skin—ignore all boundaries that existed between you as well as their scalding consequences just for the sake of sweetly touching you, the one visible hope in his life. Still, Wonwoo was too afraid. As much as he wanted all your light and love to himself, it could never be true.

“We’re doing lines next,” you said, “… are you gonna do it?”

“Oh, no.” Wonwoo shook his head. “I tried it once and it went fucking terribly. I’m not gonna bother messing with it again.”

You looked relieved.

“That’s good. It’s so weird for me. Like, when it first enters my system, everything feels strange and I get this spinning, nauseating sensation. But it always passes. And then I let everything go.”

Wonwoo quirked at you a barely-there smile.

“I know it’s obvious—just be careful, alright?”

You puffed out another hit.

“I will.”

It was a bit strange—to just stand there, off to the side, as an observer of someone who was lining up a perfect streak of white powder using their credit card. And yet, that’s what Wonwoo had found himself doing, staring without much shame as you, Mingyu, Vernon, and Seungcheol began pressing shut one nostril and inhaling the cocaine through the other. Wonwoo never bothered to ask Vernon how he acquired the coke, or what he paid for it, or how he even knew someone that could baggie it up for him so nicely—Wonwoo didn’t ask anything of the sort because he’d rather avoid prison.

Though, that might be inevitable in the bigger picture. His closest friend was a drug dealer. By nature, he was already associated.

Princess had walked over to him, dropping off some bottled water from the fridge that he immediately uncapped and gulped down. It seemed his efforts to mend that broken circadian rhythm of his had done some actual good, because Wonwoo was feeling the tire spread over his eyes and the energy deplete from his body like an inflatable with an air leak. You had snorted the coke almost a little too naturally. He remembered an old conversation with Vernon—she takes that shit like it’s pixie dust—and he supposed it made sense.

He helped Princess shove the window open again to let some freshness back into the warm attic space. She spent a moment or so staring down at the driveway, watching the people come and go.

“How are Bells and Clara?” Wonwoo asked.

She glanced at him, though her brown eyes eventually wandered back to the ongoing buzz outside and below.

“Clara is totalled,” Princess sighed. “She’s lying down in one of the spare bedrooms. A friend is looking after her. Bells on the other hand...” she glimpsed over her shoulder, scanning the room, “I’m not sure where she went. I thought she came back upstairs, but it’s likely she wandered down to the living room. That girl is all gas, no breaks. Throws up one second, back to sloshing the next.”

Wonwoo swallowed more of his cold water.

“I take it Seungcheol owes you a dinner?”

“Ha—yeah, he owes it to me big time,” she muttered, at last turning her back to the breeze. “Good thing I didn’t let him drink that fucking whiskey. Holy shit. It would be worse than Clara.”

“Hm…” Wonwoo hummed, suddenly wondering aloud as he watched you cough into your fist at the table while Mingyu rubbed his nose and patted your cheek. “He doesn’t do it all the time, though?”

Princess folded her arms and smiled.

“No, she doesn’t.”

“She?”

“Her.”

“Oh. I was asking—”

“I know what you were asking. You don’t have to hide it.”

Wonwoo thought about further countering Princess’ assumption, but the way she was watching him—head knowingly tilted with that smitten crook so rightfully framed on her glossed, shiny lips—he knew it would be futile to even try. He felt relief at the confirmation, too. As long as you were careful. Really fucking careful.

“Sorry,” he answered, shrugging.

“Nah, apology not needed.” Princess shook her head.

The girl proceeded to look down at her feet, remaining silent and pensive—toying with the idea of saying something important but ultimately weighing its consequence before involving Wonwoo.

He was sipping from his water again when Princess at last cleared her throat, then holding the swig between his cheeks.

“Um, I don’t know, exactly, what it is you and Her talk about, or what you write about, or what you two do, ever. Just, uh, whatever it is—and maybe it’s best I don’t know—she’s really… happy. Not that she wasn’t happy before. But… it’s different, y’know? The energy is different. And I see this really, really beautiful light in her that I’ve never seen before. So, yeah. I’m glad you two are friends. And that you listen to her and stick by her and help her with this new craft even when she’s not the most cooperative, or… well… y’know… it’s Her after all. You don’t really know which version you’ll get.”

Wonwoo still hadn’t swallowed. The water was becoming uncomfortably lukewarm in his mouth but he held it there.

Princess dusted off her shirt, smiling again. “Anyway, I’ll go check on Seungcheol. Probably try to find Bells. Ah, later.”

Only when the girl had left him alone at the windowsill did he finally choke down that large sip, bracing through it as though he’d just downed some especially bitter cough syrup. His mind was replaying pieces of Princess’ speech in addition to that appreciative, even admirable look she had been giving him. He didn’t know what to take from it. He didn’t even know what he was feeling. All his emotions were cooking in one big heap at the pit of his gut like a disproportioned stew. Wonwoo rubbed a hand along his face in partial confusion and agony, hearing a giggle from you somewhere across the room, as he attempted to sort everything out.

Wanting to move somewhere a bit quieter, Wonwoo thought he might try his luck with the rooms down the staircase, and hopefully not waltz into anything he so clearly shouldn’t have. Yet, just as his hand ghosted along the wood railing, Wonwoo was suddenly colliding with someone and the rapidly permeating, muddled scent of daisies, cannabis, and fireball was filling his nose.

His water bottle dropped to the floor and rolled to the base of the stairs. Fingers scraped deep into his shirt. He grabbed onto the person’s waist with instinct, helping to steady them.

“Fuck—holy shit. Thanks, Wonwoo.”

But then the realization had metaphorically slapped him.

“My bad. Sorry.”

It was Bells who’d been stumbling up the stairs and plowed straight into his chest. She didn’t seem the most present, either.

“No, no, no. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

The last thing he wanted on planet Earth was to get sucked into a conversation with her—not that he had any sort of grudge or concrete reason to dislike the girl—but his head was starting to ache and he craved peace and quiet for just five fucking minutes.

Her fingers were still wound into his shirt, almost holding him there, against the banister of the stairs, and Wonwoo couldn’t help but stare straight into her intensely dilated eyes that studied him like a shark.

“Uh, all good...”

Wonwoo honestly wanted to grab the girl by her shoulders and physically set her aside. At the same time, he didn’t think it was the best protocol to act so uncouth with one of your close friends.

“Oh, sorry!” It seemed to dawn on her that she was pinning him against the handrailing. “I just didn’t want to fall.”

She at last loosened her fingers, though Wonwoo noted how she somewhat dragged her hands along his chest in the process of doing so, like that girl had done earlier to Vernon. It was unnecessary, but she was drunk, and Wonwoo thought he could end the conversation quicker if he remained pleasant. Stood at the top of the stairs, Wonwoo smiled at her, knowing how exhausted he was inside.

“I hope you’re feeling okay.”

Bells smiled, swaying her shoulders, “I’ve never felt better.”

“… Are you… sure about that?”

“Mmhm.”

“Do you need water or anything?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Uh, alright, cool. Well, I’m gonna go—”

“Wonwoo, wait.” She latched onto his arm, fast and sharp.

He paused, not so much because of her grip but mostly from shock, as she had suddenly moved in closer and he could now feel her strength squeezing against his bicep. She batted her eyelashes up at him demurely, and there was nothing he stomached but discomfort.

“What are you doing after this?” The girl hummed, lowering her voice and intentionally smoothing it to add a sultry effect.

Dry swallowing, he debated whether or not he should even respond and instead simply peel her unwanted hand off his arm.

“… Going to bed?” He croaked, shifting in his place.

“Would you want to do something with me?” She bit her lip. “My apartment’s in South Elm. Have you ever been there?”

“It’s not a good idea.” Wonwoo was losing his patience.

“Awe, not a good idea? Why’s that?” She giggled, slowly massaging her hand down the length of his bicep and nibbling on her inner cheek. “We can do anything you want at my place… I live alone… so, I’m up for it. Anything at all.”

“Okay, uh, look. I don’t want to be—”

All of a sudden, Bells was ripped from Wonwoo like a sticky bandage, and while he was more than confused at the situation, he was nonetheless relieved. He assumed it was Princess who’d done the deed, and thus Wonwoo was very surprised to learn that it had been you—you, who did not appear happy in the slightest, and his relief was starting to transform into thick concern because it seemed as though you were going to ricochet Bells head off the banister.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You shouted, shoving a belittling hand against Bells' shoulder and tugging her away. “Why are you fucking cornering him like that?!”

“Uh—what? Cornering him? Her, I’m so confused.”

“Confused? About what, Bells? You’re fucking harassing him! Like, why are you in his face and putting your hands on him?!”

“Woah, woah, woah. What’s your fucking problem? I wasn’t in his face; I’m talking to him. Just talking. You’re jumped up again.”

“Jumped up?! You're one to talk!”

Wonwoo at first tried to intervene, mostly out of serious worry for Bells safety, because you were steaming. However, every time he attempted to speak up, his words would drown out in the echo of your squabbling. It didn’t help that you two were both mentally degraded in your own right—all that anger was shooting straight from your chest to your mouth with no thought involved.

“Just leave him alone!” You jabbed a finger at her chest.

Bells slapped your hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

“Oh, why? Does it make you uncomfortable, having someone in your fucking face, touching you without permission? Does that make you upset, Bells? Hm, wow. So funny you would say that.”

Wonwoo settled a hand at your shoulder, tugging at you once, then twice, wanting to pull you back without being too forceful.

“It’s okay,” he assured, though his heart was pounding and he wished someone else would help or even take note of what was happening, “it’s not a big deal, alright? Nothing worth all this.”

Again, he was completely ignored.

“So, that’s it?” Bells laughed, throwing up her arms. “Only you can talk to him, and look at him, and breathe around him? That’s all you? No one else is allowed to like, have a conversation with him?!”

“You don’t want to have a conversation with him!” Your fists balled up tight as you screamed at her. “You want him to fuck you!”

“Okay, okay—!” Wonwoo jolted with panic when you pushed the drunken girl, immediately coiling his arms around your waist and lurching you backward before a flailing hand could strike Bells’ face.

Bells stumbled for no less than second until she regained her balance and looked to you with the most seething, nettled eyes.

The situation seemed on the precipice of exploding beyond control, with you wriggling and thrashing against his arms, employing a strength he couldn’t have expected amidst your sluggish state. You were shouting at him to stop intervening, though, he knew letting go meant you would most likely beat the girl’s breaks off.

Thankfully, at the nick of time, Mingyu had sprinted across the room, catching Bells' arm just before it lashed out in a strike.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Mingyu grunted while wrestling the smaller, feisty girl away despite all her manic squirming.

Wonwoo almost got nipped by the unbridled swinging of your elbow as he gritted through his teeth, “I wish I knew.”

He did know. However, it wasn’t the time to discuss it.

“Fuck! Just take Her downstairs!” The boy shouted.

Jesus Christ—that was easier said than done. Trying to haul you backward down a staircase as you twisted, kicked, and screamed a very colourful litany of profanities at your friend was the exact nightmare it sounded like. Vernon’s head had suddenly popped over the banister, staring down at you and Wonwoo, his eyes blown wide with pure befuddlement, as though he wasn’t sure if it was real life or a narcotic delusion. Princess had gone to help Mingyu calm down Bells. Seungcheol had joined the commotion, too, though he didn’t come across the most intelligible. His mind was all fog.

And yet, somehow, Wonwoo managed to ply you away from the stairs and into the corridor with hardly a breath to spare.

—END OF PART III.

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