STURNIOLO TRIPLETS
SAM AND COLBY, JAKE AND JOHNNIE
HARRY POTTER, (GOLDEN ERA)
HARRY POTTER, (MARAUDERS ERA)
HEARTBREAK HIGH
AVATAR
MIRACULOUS LADYBUG
YOUNG JUSTICE
I'm so sick of the shifting community being focused on how to shift, like I see so many posts telling me to stop focusing on the process and just act like you're already in your dr, how am I supposed to do that if you keep yapping abt how to shift? Reminding me that I am, in fact, in my cr because if I wasn't, I wouldn't be seeing this bs. I don't want to hear about the how, PLEASE, I am so desperate to hear about other peoples desired realities, like yes, tell me about the unnecessarily long skincare routine that you scripted!
Idk if this makes sense, hopefully it does to someone.
San is your first love. He broke your heart and played with your feelings without even kissing you back when you two were in highschool. Now, many years later, you do your best to avoid crossing paths with him because there's just no way you could ever hate him, but there's also no way you two can be friends again. But his best friend is also one of your best friends, so there's only so much you can do to avoid San when he arranges a dinner you're forced to go to.
PAIRING: first love!choi san x afab reader.
GENRE: one shot (fluff, angst, smut)
WORD COUNT: 20k (yikes).
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, unnecesary pinning, a looot of context, bad friends :(, some arguing, tension, drinking and drunk behavior, tears, making out, description of female anatomy, oral (f reciving), fingering, love making, pet names (babe, baby), flirty seonghwa, wooyoung being a little shit again but also a genius, gyuri almost commiting a crime.
NOTES: hi everyone! this is a lenghty one, i know, but trust me when I say the context is necessary to understand what reader goes through with san. also, some of this may or may not have happened to me (have fun figuring out which part) (it's quite obvious tbh). THIS IS PART OF THE SHOW AND TELL UNIVERSE BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE, even though there's some references and characters that you can only know if you read s&t lol. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
Well, it's nine years way back? You were only fourteen when you first saw him.
He moved back to your area of the city a year after you moved from an entirely different one. You thought you knew every school secret there ever was, provided by your new best friend, Gyuri, but she didn't tell you about him at all.
She claimed that it was because he didn't cause any stir the years they studied together before and after spending a whole first period in your eighth grade classroom with him at the back of the class, silently taking notes, you couldn't phantom why.
He was great at every subject, seemed to have a lot of popular friends and was, overall, a pretty nice guy. He was also very cute, skinny but you could tell he was the kind of guy who played a sport outside of school hours and he had a cute pair of dimples that showed everytime you scanned the classroom just to lay eyes on him.
Choi San was a perfect boy to crush on, even a perfect guy just to have as eye candy during recess. You felt really strongly about him, not really forming a full opinion although your gut told you right away you were right. There was something about him… but you only figured that something until later, next year, starting your ninth grade.
Gyuri and you were avid readers. Precocious girls, with minds way above your age. All your teachers praised came laced with the same compliment so you both decided that was the truth. You rejoiced in it, thinking you shared things in common with the grown ups and decided that that was the key to feeling a little superior in comparison to the rest of your classmates, who neither of you liked very much.
Until they all decided to start dating each other and you two realized you were nothing but two kids with great imaginations and a love for school, praise and fictional men that couldn't be translated to the real world without sounding delusional and weird.
So you decided to do something about it. And so, on a random Tuesday recess, you two scanned the crowd trying to find two boys (or a boy and a girl, because you always knew you liked girls too) worthy of your affections. One for her, one for you. Bonus points if the two of them were also best friends, of course.
Double dates were all the buzz at the time anyways.
Besides, only then they could understand the bond you and Gyuri had. Sisterhood like no other, nevermind Gyuri actually had an older sister and a niece at the ripe age of fifteen.
And so when your index finger scanned the crowd and eliminated at least three potential crushes before landing on Choi San, you felt like it was meant to be.
You see, his best friend, Jung Wooyoung, was perfect for Gyuri to crush on. He was almost as tall as she was at the time and his easy, outgoing personality was compatible with her book crush at the time as well.
He also flirted with her on several occasions before that.
So it was meant to be.
Choi San, on the other hand, had never even glanced in your direction before.
Just like your book crush did before he fell in love with the main character.
See? Meant. To. Be.
It was decided then that, although Choi San was not going to be your first crush ever, he was going to be the guy that motivated you to be at school for the time being, because math gets really boring after trying and failing at least ten times.
You thought nothing of it when it felt a little forced, when you couldn't blush at all at the sight of him and you gathered that it didn't need to happen like in the books you read. You simply needed to say his name when someone asked you if you had a crush on anyone and that was enough to be in symphony with the rest of your classmates.
Your longing glances were caught once or twice by him and you brushed the weird flip your stomach did everytime he looked away, blushing a little. You never really cared when it happened, really, knowing his crowd and your crowd (Gyuri and you) would never even cross paths in the first place.
You two kept to yourselves and your little book unofficial book club, sitting on the floor at lunch time and cursing everyone who dared to call you weird for it. San and Wooyoung had a crowd of people at the loudest table laughing with them over stupid teen jokes and, uh, sports? You didn't even know.
And then the unimaginable happened.
Jung Wooyoung sat down, criss cross applesauce and everything, in front of you on a random Monday afternoon while you and Gyuri discussed the english assignment due next period.
Gyuri was not too excited about that.
Turns out, the only one excited to have a crush at school was you. She was very much still in the Lonely Hearts Club phase while you skipped all the way to your The Notebook phase and she was, in her own words, too afraid to admit it when you came up with your crush plan.
You forgave her, of course, and decided to wait for her as long as needed because you were certainly not about to be an individual and have a crush on your own.
And by the time Wooyoung smiled at you both and introduced himself to you, like you weren't in the same class for a year already, you thought your pretend crush on his best friend evaporated and joined the void superficial and fleeting interests you had.
But then Choi San sat beside him, his knee brushing against yours in the process, and you knew you would have to issue a formal apology to your best and only friend for leaving her behind on this little thing.
Because, oh boy, were you crushing on Choi San.
You felt the blush rush to your cheeks and then fell silent while your friend and his friend discussed Fifty Shades of Grey for some reason you never cared enough to discover and you knew you were done for.
It was the first time seeing his dimples in full action, so close to you, so you completely stopped functioning all together. Amazing.
When you decided to have a crush, you never took into account that you were, actually, quite shy. And he really wasn't, but you noticed that he knew when to talk and what to say and with your friend being a lot more outgoing that you were it gave you the comfort that she would speak for the both of you while you admired from the sidelines as your little duo became a group of friends you still miss deeply to this day.
He was funny and you laughed at your jokes even though you pretended to be tired and completely worn out by the school day, resting your head on Gyuri’s shoulder and stealing glances at the boy while she kept arguing with his best friend.
Wooyoung was popular and liked enough to have a few people sit with you later that week, people who never even knew you existed before that. They were good friends with San as well, so you tried your best to keep up with everyone until she sat down next to you one day.
Arin was not really a bad person. She just was a bit conceited, calling herself princess type of conceited and you never really related to her even if she was nice to you to your face. She was absolutely gorgeous and, you found out with Wooyoung’s arm around your shoulder and a whisper to your ear, she had been San’s crush since they were both in elementary school.
That would explain the sudden tension at the table when she sat down next to you, said hello to everyone, offered you a sweet she just bought from the cafeteria, and stared at San for the remainder of lunch time.
You also noticed Wooyoung glaring at her a little and he later explained to you that he didn't really like her all that much. She loved attention and San gave her attention, so she would intentionally flirt with him to get her ego stroked in return.
It didn't really matter how he felt about the girl, though, he didn't have to like her just because his best friend did. And when you caught her batting her eyelashes at San, you knew you didn't even stand a chance.
You tried to hide the disappointed look on your face but both Gyuri and Wooyoung looked at you while the two of them flirted endlessly for the remainder of lunch time and you figured you were doing a pretty shitty job at it. He didn't glance at you once either way, so it didn't really matter.
Arin did but she just complimented your eyes and then started a conversation with someone across the table, her annoying sweet and fake voice making your right ear ring in disapproval.
Either way, you ended up becoming her friend. Gyuri was not very fond of her and neither were you, but you all went to the bathroom together, did your makeup together, did school projects together and then sat everyday at lunch together with the rest of the guys who were, in one way or another, trying to get her to like them.
Because, once again, she was a sight for sore eyes.
It wasn't until later, in the middle of the year, that one of them did. Not Choi San, but Choi Yeonjun.
You remember the day you found out they were together and the gut wrenching concern you felt when you found out that San was not at school that day.
It was after summer break, you remember Wooyoung telling you that San and his family took a few more days of vacation and if you couldn't believe your eyes when you saw the new couple sharing a sweet kiss at the designated lunch table, you could only imagine how San felt the next day when he saw the same image right in front of him.
Yeonjun was his friend, right? He knew about his crush and decided to get together with her anyways. Surely, San was devastated.
But he wasn't. He just cheered them on and then laughed along when Yeonjun shoved his arm playfully after the hollering.
But you saw through it.
Your crush on San made you observant. Made you believe you knew him better than everyone else and so, after lunch, you took out your phone and pulled up the notes app. Writing a simple “are you okay?” in it and passing it to him the next second, you were surprised with yourself before you saw him frown a bit. And then he understood what you meant.
Nodding, he passed you the phone back, before giving you a reassuring smile that you treasured in your heart and saw in your dreams.
You didn't believe him, though, but stayed close enough to everything related to the situation to hold Arin in your arms when Yeonjun inevitably broke her heart.
Starting your tenth year, he moved back to his city and decided to play the I thought we weren't even that serious card on her. Which was nasty, considering love it's very, very serious for a sixteen year old girl.
By this point, you were all a little family and hanging out after school and on the weekends was not unusual, so it didn't surprise you when Arin invited you, and only you, to her house after choir practice on a Thursday.
She lent you her older sister’s clothes to wear (because her's would never fit you. Her words, not yours) and took you to a walk in the park just to break your heart for the first time ever.
“You know… I thought love was something I couldn't find in highschool anymore. But San it's really making an effort, you know? He's been there for me ever since Yeonjun left and… Well, I think he's going to ask me to be his girlfriend tomorrow.”
Grasping the park bench she forced you to sit at, you only nodded and let out a shuddering breath that gave away what she was trying to figure out since earlier that day.
“I'll say yes but only if you say it's okay to do so.”
Arin was not really your friend, the same way Yeonjun was not really San’s friend.
Because there's no way you would ever be okay with it.
And yet, you tried your best to give her a smile and pretend the sound of your heart breaking didn't bring tears to your eyes “Of course it's okay. Why wouldn't it be?”
A week later, they were officially dating. The rumors spread around like a wildfire and it took out of you with everyone calling San a nasty rebound and you doing your best to prioritize the ghost of the friendship you had with him. That whole fiasco lasted a few months.
Months in which your friendship with everyone just grew stronger. Gyuri was still your best friend, Wooyoung was crushing on her hard and everyone knew, Arin and San were a steady couple, a new girl joined your class that year, named Yeri, and the principal assigned her to you because she thought you two would get along really well.
“I like girls,” was like, the third thing she ever told you while you were showing her the school “I'm just telling you now because I don't plan on hiding it and you are wearing a pride pin.”
“Oh, that's cool. I like girls too,” you smiled, looking at your pride pin “I didn't hide it either and no one gave me shit about it, so, don't worry.”
Yeri also liked the mainstream music that you liked and soon she became a new addition to your group. And with Arin spending all of her free time with San, you, Gyuri and Yeri only grew closer and closer. You didn't have Arin’s voice in your ear telling you the million reasons she found Yeri uncool, but you saw it in her face every time the table laughed at one of Yeri’s jokes.
And so, it went on for a while:
Your mom driving all of you around in her car to the beach, to dinner, to the movies and letting you have mixed sleepovers at your house (meaning you, Arin, Gyuri, Wooyoung, Yeri and San) was fun and all, but it was not enough to distract yourself entirely. Everytime you glanced at the couple, that sinking feeling in your chest would appear and sulk your whole mood for, at least, fifteen minutes.
Fifteen minutes of pretending you were okay with them before forgetting completely for an hour or so and then the cycle would repeat until you were alone staring at the ceiling and doing your best to not cry about it.
All it took was your first kiss being Yeri of all people for you to decide that it was time to retire your crush for Choi San once and for all.
And for a while, it all went according to plan. You decided to tell Gyuri that it was okay because he was your friend first and the guy that you liked second and that you were not fourteen and desperate for love anymore, that it was time to go on with your life as if nothing really happened in the first place.
You were hooking up with Yeri anyways, so it seemed like you were doing just fine.
You grew closer to San as well and even though he mostly talked to you about Arin and whatever tantrum she was throwing at the time, you really started to feel some sense of normalcy within you when it came to just speaking to him.
You no longer blushed when he made you laugh, you no longer looked at him with the longing of a past life lover and you were really happy for him because, at the end of the day, he was really happy with his relationship.
Until winter break came around and Arin decided to give San his first heartbreak ever.
She decided to call for a break in their relationship because she was, in his words, too overwhelmed with the amount of love and attention she was getting from him.
Which was completely fucking insane considering the fact she forced him to save her contact as Princess Arin and all.
So naturally, you sided with him. And she didn't take it to heart because everyone knew you liked San anyways.
She told you the news herself through Facebook after asking you to explain to her the English assignment due next day and then she decided to tell you something you'll never understand because you no longer are on speaking terms with her:
Princess Arin: u know i broke up with him because of u right? :)
Princess Arin: one day I'll tell u all abt it.
She never told you anything about it. And by then, you were starting your last year and San was your best friend who hung out with you everyday after school, calling you late at night and helping you with assignments through Skype. So you didn't really care.
And as the day passed, you started understanding the connection they talked about in books and movies. You thought you did before, Gyuri being your eternal person in this world, but it felt so different with San.
Different and good. Different and achy enough for you to want to keep it in your life.
Your dynamic was friendly, sure, but it was alright. It consisted of banter and daring stares as well as laughter and soft moments you treasured till this day.
“It's way too early to be this annoying, Choi San.”
“Oh, you think this is me being annoying?”
You both got an hour of detention for disturbing the class that day.
You loved it.
But then, after almost a month of picking up the broken pieces of his heart one by one, and your mother giving him a self-help book to make him regain the confidence he lost during the breakup process, you realized that you were in love with him and there was nothing you could do about that.
You noticed one friday afternoon, when he offered to pay for your and your mom's ice cream at the drive through, when he scrambled to get all the change he had on him to leave a tip for the person who handed you guys the sweet treat, that there was no way you didn't love him.
And it was confusing as fuck when everyone else started to tell you he had feelings for you as well.
“Think about it. You text each other good morning everyday” Yeri listed with her finger and you nodded “Then, you go to school, sit together and spend the rest of the day together” another nod “Then after school you either go get ice cream together or hang out for a bit with your mom while she drives him home. And after that, you get on Skype for the reminder of the afternoon and then he calls you on your house phone and you two spend the rest of the night talking before falling asleep on the line together,” she looked at you like you were insane for even denying the accusations made against San, but she continued anyway “And then it's rinse and repeat and it has been that way since… What? Three months ago?”
You nodded again, defeated.
“Girl, he likes you.” she sighed, annoyed and a little tired, before sitting on your lap and kissing your lips affectionately “And you're here making out with me instead of him. You really are a lost cause.”
That didn't stop you from hooking up with her until she found a girl who's heart was not reserved for someone else, though. Said girl went to a different school and was a year younger than all of you, but she looked very happy and stopped secretly kissing you in the school bathroom like a week after they met.
And when she finally told everyone, you were really happy for her, but San not so much.
It was the night you thought everything was about to change. The night you thought he was about to kiss you or you were about to kiss him, whatever happened first.
Laying in your bed, facing each other in the dim light, he thought it was the biggest form of betrayal and pouted the whole time he explained to you why.
He thought you liked her and you realized he didn't really pay attention to you after all. Not the way you did with him.
Bless his heart.
You didn't kiss him that night because he wouldn't shut up about you and Yeri.
“I mean, why couldn't it be you? She clearly liked you if you two were hooking up for over a year” and when his hand came to rest on your back, under your shirt, you breath hitched enough for him to notice it but not enough for him to just don't do anything about it except trace the curve of your silhouette with the pad of his thumb “I don't understand why anyone would pass the opportunity to be with you.”
Huh. Maybe he did have feelings for you.
No. He's just being a great best friend. Don't take that for granted.
But it was impossible for you not to take Yeri’s words seriously as time went on.
You didn't want to think he was giving you mixed signals, but yet again there was that one time when you reached behind your passenger seat in your mothers car to pinch his leg playfully after he pulled on your hair a little bit from behind, only to end up holding his hand the rest of the car trip to his house.
His fingers slowly caressing the back of your hand were just too much for you not to get everything mixed up.
Or that other time when your school held a Woman's Day event, and your class president decided that all the boys in the class were going to give roses to the girls.
When it was your turn to get a rose, you knew no one would give you one. But Yeri stood in line and collected a rose from the bin before the class president had the opportunity to say anything else.
“I'll take that, thank you very much.” She turned to you, smiling. San blocked her way to you a second after.
“And just what do you think you're doing?”
“Giving my best girl a rose, of course.” She peeked around him, giving you a wink that you could only roll your eyes to.
San turned to you, the fondness in his eyes making you question the decision of not pretending to be sick that day. It was too much for you to handle.
“To the back of the line, then. I already called dibs on her,” he turned to your friend, snatching the rose from her hand in one swift move “I'll take that, thank you very much.”
He had no idea what that meant to you back then. It was true that, at school, he behaved a little differently than when you two were alone.
He was athletic, so he had some friends that you were sure used to ask him what the fuck was he doing wasting his time with a girl like you instead of getting a new girlfriend.
He had a family that didn't approve of yours, too. You felt it the first time you met his mom and, even though she was nice to you and your mom, you could feel the judgemental stare she gave both of you when your mom told her she was a single parent.
San told you that it didn't really matter, that his mom didn't have to like you because you weren't her friend, you were his.
He played with your feelings a little too well. Wanting him, adoring him and letting yourself be consumed by the thought of him loving you back was enough to keep it going. To ignore the fluttering way your heart kept beating whenever he talked to you which was all the time.
You assumed the way he behaved with you in private was the real him. The one who didn't care about appearances or his family approval.
The one who cared about you.
It was dizzying and fantastic and you thought he just might've been the love of your life.
But then he would tell you how much it hurted when he saw Arin at school and how much he missed her, the intimacy they shared before, and reality would come crashing down and setting your delusions on fire again.
He had sex with Arin. You would never stand a chance.
Or so you thought he did. Except when you overheard Arin speaking to her friends and that was the first time you ever got mad at Choi San.
“And, you know, me and San were never intimate like that so I wouldn't know but I think boys have no idea how to please a woman if they tried to.”
What?
Oh. So he lied to you.
And you were so upset by the thought of him making up stories of their intimate time together that it didn't even cross your mind that Arin might've been lying to save face.
So when he came back from the bathroom and sat at his usual desk in front of you, you didn't even think about his feelings when you decided to treat him like shit for lying about something so important like sex to your face.
“Leave me alone, San! I don't want to fucking talk to you right now!”
The hurt expression he gave you after that is one you would never be able to forget.
But you grew to be stubborn and a little overprotective of your own feelings, so you thought him playing the part of your best friend all these months and sweet talking to you was just another one of his lies.
“You guys not being friends right now doesn't make any fucking sense, sweetheart.” Wooyoung's tone is careful and laced with affection, but you knew he was playing the devil's advocate on behalf of San. With his arm around Gyuri’s shoulder (by that point, they were a thing for over two months) you could swear you saw him smirk when the nickname brought a scowl to your face.
He might've been worried, but he was also a little shit.
“You really are going to let Arin ruin what you two have?” Your best friend was, of course, on your side. But she was your best friend for a reason and her love included pointing out when you were behaving like an infant at the age of seventeen and a half.
“You two are practically dating and you're going to let the evil ex-girlfriend get in the way? Over something you weren't even supposed to hear in the first place? Come on.”
Again, Wooyoung was a little shit. And you were so upset about everything that you shyness couldn't even help the fury behind your reply:
“Stop saying that! We are not practically dating, he's in love with Arin and I'm not sure I even like him like that anymore!” Getting tired of everyone and their mother (your mother) feeding your delusions, you came to the conclusion that putting a stop to your friendship with Choi San was for the best.
And, in doing so, you ended up breaking your own heart for the second time in your life.
But he didn't put up an easy fight at all. You remember the feeling of pure joy when he grabbed your hand on the way to the cafeteria one day, pulling you so hard you almost ended up sitting in his lap, and the way his pleading eyes begged you to listen to him one last time.
“Us not being friends doesn't feel right, Y/N…” he said and the word he used to categorize what both of you had hurted you, but you pushed the feeling away “Please, let's not fight anymore. I don't even know what happened, but I forgive you for yelling at me and I hope you forgive me for whatever it is you think I did.”
Of course, you forgave him the next second without thinking too much about it. And for a while, everything went back to normal. You Skyped as usual and occasionally you let your other friends join the call even though it didn't really feel like it used to before.
The next thing you knew, your feelings were in full bloom again and when you realized it, it was too late.
Because by then, you had already let your childhood friend, Sunhee, join a few Skype calls and by the fourth one she invited her friend, Minseo, to them as well.
Terrible, terrible mistake. Because even through the screen, you could see that Minseo looked a lot like Arin with the added bonus that she was down to earth and cool and liked the same things San liked.
You liked the same things San liked as well, but it never seemed to matter.
Because not even two months after you decided to stop talking to San over a lie you weren't supposed to find out in the first place and then became friends one more time, he gets together with Minseo and you're sick to your stomach all over again.
You hated her. Not because she was, suddenly, his girlfriend (not girlfriend girlfriend, but in a friends with benefits arrangement you never even knew why he agreed on in the first place) but because suddlenly she was so fucking obnoxious and didn't seem to like you either.
Was it not painfully obvious San didn't have feelings for you? Why was she mad at you then? You literally brought them together!
And all you got in return was her telling him she didn't feel comfortable with him having a girl best friend. That ungrateful bitch.
He stopped calling. He stopped texting, he stopped carpooling with you and your mom after school and he stopped caring whether your math assignment was done or not.
He stared pulling away more and more and it didn't matter how hard you tried to get him to talk to you, it seemed like he never really fucking cared about you in the first place.
And by may that year, you didn't speak to San anymore. Granted, the only person he did speak to was Wooyoung, but even their friendship was falling apart.
For the first time ever, San broke your heart firsthand. And it felt really, really fucking bad.
You cried to your mom about it, she reminded you that you were nothing but a great friend to him and that, if he didn't take the time to appreciate that, that was his loss not yours.
And she started hating him from that moment on. But you couldn't hate San, not even a little bit.
Why would you hate him for not liking you back? For not loving you the way you loved hi—
Your laptop closes down right in front of you and when you try to look up to find out who's responsible for interrupting your writing time, you get interrupted again.
“Ouch! What the fuck, Gyuri?” the slap to the back of your head is quick and fill with rage.
“What the fuck are you even writing. I can read from here, you know?”
“I'm just laying my feelings down and— Ouch! Stop that!” You try to hit her back but she turns away quickly when your hands almost knock her coffee mug out of hers.
“You can't possibly still have love for San, Y/N. It's been years.”
It's been four and a half, to be precise. But who's counting, right?
“And why are you writing it in third person? You don't usually do that.”
“I don't really know, Gyuri!”
“I’m telling you, this celebratory dinner bullshit it's affecting you way more than it should,” she sighs, plopping down on the couch of your shared living room, and you leave your seat at the table to join her “He might not even show up. He has that thing with Kyungmi.”
Kyungmi.
You couldn't get to that part on your open document, but San left Minseo when he met Kyungmi at one of the frat parties they love to attend. Wooyoung told you that he said that it was love at first sight and you even met her briefly when you picked Gyuri up from the apartment he and San got when they started college together.
She’s gorgeous and doesn't look like Arin or Minseo at all. It’s a different type of gorgeous. She's a year older than San and went to the same school as them and Gyuri.
You think you might even like her better than him.
You tried to be happy for San when you found out, but you two barely even speak a word to each other and you convinced yourself a while ago that you couldn't care less if he sees right through you and your fake smiles.
You gathered, after everything happened, that San knew you liked him and took advantage of that. Unintentionally, but he did anyway.
You sigh, resting your head on your best friend's shoulder. “It’s his best friend's celebratory dinner, though, he needs to be there.”
Two seconds pass and then you both say it at the same time: “He’s in love.”
And when San is in love, he has a one track mind with the name of his lover as the goal.
You nod, but you can't help but to be insistent “It's Wooyoung's celebratory dinner, he needs to show up, right?”
“I might not even show up, he's a pain in the ass.” She replies but you can tell her annoyance is not genuine and it makes you smile.
Gyuri and Wooyoung broke up towards the end of your first year of college but you all stayed close friends. A one year relationship was not enough to fuck up the friendship they had and they decided to stay civil until, eventually, they became close friends again.
To this day, you wonder why you and San couldn't rekindle your friendship when it became clear to you that you missed your friend and not the guy that you liked.
Because San was always your friend first and your first love second.
But it doesn't really matter anymore, because Gyuri is forcing you to shower and reminding you that you two need to keep Wooyoung on his best behavior tonight.
“That girl he used to like before me is going, he said. I looked her up, she's single and he needs to get together with her because I can't take him whining about it anymore.”
They keep things with each other way too civil, you think.
“I'm telling you, if we don't show up he's going to do that thing where he gets drunk and makes a fool of himself. I can't have that, I'm on a mission.”
“A mission to get your ex laid?” You ask, shampooing your hair.
“A mission to get him a girlfriend so he can stop crying to me about feeling lonely.”
“Maybe he wants you guys to—” The shower curtain opens and you see your best friend’s scowl before covering yourself up with your hands.
“Gyuri!”
“Don't you dare say what you were about to say or I'm divorcing you.”
You chuckle “Sure you are.”
You're left alone again with the water stream and she goes back to do her makeup “I told you back in ninth grade that we weren't a great fit and I was right. We can't get back together,” she sighs “It'll ruin everything.”
“I doubt it will but you guys have been friends longer than you were boyfriend and girlfriend, so I'll just have to deal with my parents being divorced and civil.”
“God, don't ever refer to us like that again— Oh! Speaking of parents,” you see her beam at her phone when you move the shower curtain to search for your towel and then she shows it to you “Mingi and Love just celebrated their one year anniversary!”
Love being Mingi’s best friend. Gyuri talks to you about her college friend group all the time. The drama fuels your dinner conversations, you even follow a few of them on social media.
“What does that have to do with parents?”
“They're the mom and dad of the group.”
San is in that friend group, you can see him in the back of the picture and you recognize his apartment layout too. He's not the main focus of it but he's all you can see until you notice the couple sitting near him on the couch.
The picture shows both of them, her in his lap and Mingi looking at her with stars in his eyes.
Good for them.
“Is that the girl he was friends with forever before they finally realized that they were in love?”
“Yeah,” she sighs in contempt, looking down at the picture again “I was there the day it happened. I mean, not physically with them, but they left Yunho's party together and I told Wooyoung that it was finally about to happen!”
Gyuri is not a romantic person at all. Her excitement shows you that she really loves them and so you soften at the news that would usually give you and your dry love life a headache “It was the day before you called me to get you out of that awful date.”
Ah, that also happened back then. You shudder at the memory.
“Tell them I say congrats, babe.”
“I'm bringing you as my plus one.”
You laugh, confused “To where?”
“Their wedding, duh.”
“They practically just got together,” you remind her, a year is not enough time to propose “And I don't really know them, Gyuri!”
“They love you,” she assures you as you step out of the shower “I have been speaking about your antisocial ass for years. They can't wait to meet you.”
“So you've been shit talking behind my back for years? Is that what I'm hearing?”
She laughs “No, babe, that's Wooyoung's job.”
Clearing your throat and looking at your friend through the mirror, you try to be as nonchalant as you can when you ask: “Has he… Did he tell you if…”
“No, Y/N, I have no clue if San is going or not and Wooyoung is actually mad at him at the moment.”
“Why?”
She looks at you, sighing “He's been lacking as a friend lately.”
“Hm.”
“I hope you're not planning on swooning if you see him. Fuck him, Y/N.”
“I know…”
“And by fuck him I mean he doesn't deserve you or your forgiveness.”
“He didn't do anything to me, Gyuri,” you remind her, shrugging “Not reciprocating my feelings is not a crime so I don't have to forgive him for anything.”
You can practically feel her starting the San hate train engine, so you step out of the bathroom but her voice follows you.
“And what about that time he ditched you for Minseo when you asked him to go with you to that medical appointment, huh?”
“Cut it out, Gyuri…”
But her head peaks around the corner, into the hall where you're rushing towards your room “Or that time when—”
“Can't hear you!” Turning to look at her, she gives you an affectionate middle finger and heads back to the bathroom.
Closing the door, you lean into the thin wood and sigh, getting San’s face out of your mind so you can focus on getting ready and actually show up for Wooyoung and Wooyoung only.
He just got a permanent position after completing his internship at a company that's your company's rival. He's going to crush you and steal clients from you but you are genuinely so happy for him.
You should've guessed he enjoyed books as much as you did back in highschool. The debates he used to have with Gyuri were not all about flirting with her but also because he has a passion for books.
And now he's going to work in the same field as you.
You're so proud of your friend.
As you get ready, you remember the excitement cruising through your body when your boss trusted you enough to give you the first manuscript of a new client so you could edit it. You're sure Wooyoung is going to do better than you, taking into account that he actually went to college for this.
You didn't.
You met your boss at the part-time job you got in senior year, when you were trying to distract yourself from all the pain and the horrors of becoming a grown up. She was chatty, got a little too drunk on soju and told you she was starting her own book publishing company.
When she returned months later after remembering that you told her you loved books and would love to work for as a publisher one day, she offered you a job in her company right after graduating highschool.
You took it because you didn't think an opportunity like this would show up ever again.
She was truly a blessing, the kind of person you never really believed in until she taught you all you needed to know about publishing and editing and encouraged you to take online classes during the nights so you could get, at least, a certification on what you do.
You're proud of yourself too. The opportunity found you in a specific moment of your life where both your heart and your self esteem were destroyed and now you're not the person you used to be.
Maybe that's why the possibility of facing San makes you so nervous. Collective memories are dangerous because the details never match the ones on the other person's head.
You know who you were back then but… Are you the same person in San’s head?
You don't even want to find out.
Scanning your outfit in the mirror for the last time, you take the shoes you're wearing tonight out of your closet and walk over to the living room.
Only to find Gyuri laying on the carpet under the coffee table, half dressed and on her phone.
“You're going to mess up your hair.”
“I don't care, I'm not going.”
Sighing, you seat down on the couch and staring at the wood of the table covering her face.
“What happened now?”
“The bitch canceled!”
“Wooyoung?”
Poking her head out, she frowns at you “No, his first love.”
“You were his first love.”
“You know what I'm talking about, Y/N!”
Laughing at her, you offer her your hand “Get dressed. Who cares if she's not going? He's not going to sulk because he's going to have you and his best friends there.”
She whines like a child when you pull her up from the floor “I had a plan!”
“Then make a new one, babe. We're going to be late.”
She starts to whine again but then stops mid-groan to give you a once over. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, suddenly self-conscious about your appearance for the first time in years.
“You look really hot…” she tells you and you fake gag at her words “Really pretty. Like a fairy and a smoke show at the same time.”
You can't possibly look like that when you have such a simple outfit on, floor length high waist black pants and a flowy sleeve top that ties in the middle. It's barely formal but now you're thinking too hard about it.
Blushing, you wave your hand to dismiss her compliment “Oh, my god. Go and change!”
She rushes to her room on the opposite end of the hall and you finally breathe, looking down at your choice of fit and wondering if it's too much.
Gyuri would've told you if that's the case, but either way it haunts your mind in the car on the way there, leg bouncing up and down under your best friend's judging gaze that only softens when you pout at her.
“They are going to love you, babe. I'm so serious, they've been waiting years to meet you.”
You nod because, yes, you're concerned that her friend group is not all as welcoming as she paints them to be.
And you wish your doubts would go away but you're really, really not good at making friends. You're cautious, extremely closed off to new people and not as good with conversation no matter how much confidence you gained over the past years.
When you walk to the loudest table at the laid back restaurant their friend Seonghwa made the reservation at, you think you won't be able to fit in with everyone else. You feel like an intruder, like Gyuri is supposed to enjoy this part of her life without you here.
That's why you rejected every invitation they ever made.
You celebrate birthdays with her, with Woo as well, but it's all very intimate and separate from their social circle, the one that includes the man you haven't fully faced in years.
But you can't exactly back out now, not when one of them turns to you and seems to light up when they see you.
“Oh? Is this her?” you recognize Hongjoong from pictures, he's the only one facing you when you approach the table, lowkey hiding behind Gyuri like a child.
“Who?”
“Huh?”
San is nowhere to be seen. Thank god.
Slowly, everyone turns around and you see their faces light up with both delight and surprise. Your heart is pounding, you feel it in your throat, in your eyes, in the heat that colors your cheeks.
But Gyuri just steps aside and presents you with a smile “This is her!”
“Oh, Y/N!” Wooyoung gets up, rushing towards you and crashing into your frame with a crushing hug “I'm so glad you're here,” he murmurs into your hair and then turns to his friends, quiet them down “Everyone, this is Y/N, one of my best friends in the entire world.”
He's such a dramatic human being.
You love him so much.
Raising your hand, you shyly wave at them “Hi.”
The entire table erupts with joy. Some of them greet you, some of them are saying that they are happy to be finally meeting you and Wooyoung grabs your arm and plops you down into the seat next to Gyuri, at the edge of the table.
Laughing, you apologize for not meeting them sooner and then you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders.
Panic raising, you quickly turn around to see who it is before releasing a shuddering, but calmer, breath.
“She's a very busy woman, guys. She works for the competition, my competition,” everyone gasps at that but Wooyoung is smiling at you “and she's very good at what she does. Which means she's busy, get off her case,” he puts a glass and a can of beer in front of you “Drink, babe.”
“Thanks, babe.” You whisper back and he leans in to peck your head before going away.
Gyuri groans “Stop stealing that from us! It's our thing, Y/N, don't indulge him.”
“It's his celebratory dinner…” you argue with a laugh that Hongjoong and Mingi follow.
“Yeah! Can you get off my case tonight, Gyuri?”
She huffs, wrapping her arms around you “I hate you all.”
“No you don't!”
The table laughs and everyone returns to their individual conversations when Woo sits down on his spot.
There's a few seats left, one besides Mingi and one right in front of you but you don't think too much about it because soon Gyuri gets up to ask Yeosang something and Seonghwa occupies her seat right beside you.
You think he can sense that you're more shy than you let on, because he doesn't include you in whatever he and Yunho were talking about and waits until he stops talking to him to turn to you.
“So, you work for a publishing company?”
The question caughts you off guard and you swallow the beer quickly before nodding “Y-yeah, I… Yeah.”
He chuckles “You're nervous.”
“I'm just not as good at meeting people as Gyuri is. She usually does the job and I tag along.”
“I feel like I know you already, though.” He says, leaning back on his chair.
“Because she talks a lot about me?” he nods “Yeah, she tends to do that.”
“Wooyoung also talks a lot about you, San too… Sometimes,” your cheeks heat up and he misinterprets what it means “All good things, I promise.”
You doubt that.
Your brain gives you a hundred and one possible things San could've said about you.
For some reason, none of them are good. But you choose to believe the gorgeous, long haired guy in front of you.
“Well that's good to hear,” you take another sip of your drink before smiling at him “I was sure Woo was trash talking about me.”
He shakes his head with a smile “He wouldn't dare, he has Gyuri on his ass all the time and I'm sure she would kill him.”
“I'm sure she would kill him even if he didn't do it.”
His smile grows wider “That's true,” he says, looking over at them who are, very coincidentally, fighting about something. You let out a sigh and he laughs again before clearing his throat “So, the publishing company. What kind of books do you like to edit the most?”
Your smile grows wider too.
For the next hour, you talk to Seonghwa about your job and how you started in it. He asks you about your classes and the challenges that you face on a daily basis and Wooyoung overhears and ends up joining the conversation as well.
You don't even hear footsteps nearing until a voice cuts everyone off.
“I'm sorry I'm late!”
“Baby!” Mingi gets up from his seat, but no one else does so he's stuck between the table and his girlfriend.
“Oh, that's Love, huh?” you ask Seonghwa, Wooyoung too entertained messing with the couple to hear you anyways.
“Yeah… Is that how Gyuri refers to her?” He frowns.
“Mhm,” you answer, leaning into him like you're about to tell him an important secret “I'm not supposed to call her that, don't tell her.”
Seonghwa leans in too, pretending to zip his mouth shut and you laugh.
The girl wiggles her way into the seat reserved for her and everyone lets out a groan when they smooch each other. You can only giggle and the sound draws her attention to you “Y/N?”
You quickly nod “Yeah, hi, nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you! Finally, I thought Wooyoung and Gyuri had an imaginary friend,” you laugh, shrugging at the joke “Love your outfit, by the way, are those— Oh, San, hi— Are those jellyfish?”
You want to answer. You truly do, the yes right at the tip of your tongue, but words leave you when you turn your head around and find San already looking at you with wide eyes.
He looks great, he's a bit more muscular than what the pictures show and than the last time that you saw him, his arms hugging the fabric of the dress shirt he's wearing like it was tailored for him and everything.
How dare he.
You wonder if his heart is beating as loud as yours is right now. If he's surprised, disappointed or happy to see you at all.
“Her favorite animal.” He answers for you “Hi, Y/N.”
“Hi…” you whisper back and it feels like you're in a trance. He doesn't look away but the table quieting down once again snaps you out of it and you turn to the girl with a wide smile that you hope conceals whatever the fuck you're feeling at the moment “I love jellyfishes. Had a phase as a child when I would exclusively talk about them, too,” you chuckle, nervously, reaching for your earrings instinctively “Gyuri gave them to me as a present last Christmas.”
You definitely overshared just now. From the corner of your eye you catch your best friend getting ready to step in if needed.
Love looks at you, then at San (who's just standing next to you without uttering a word) and then back at you again, smiling like she just figured something out “Well, I love them.”
“Thanks…”
Coughing unnecessarily loud, Wooyoung gets up from his seat “You're late.”
It takes a second but San tears his gaze away from you to look at his best friend and you take the opportunity to chug down the rest of your beer “Sorry, something came up.”
Seonghwa turns at that and looks at him as well “You good?”
“I am. Did you guys already eat? I'm starving.”
“Nope. We're about to order. Let me get you a drink, come here.” And just like that, he disappears from your view and you almost sigh in relief.
“Are you good?” Seonghwa asks you next and you reckon he's very observant. But then again, you're not the most gracious human being when you're in San’s presence, so, you figure everyone else noticed your change of mood as well.
“Yeah, I just… I haven't seen him in a while and I didn't think he was coming. I was surprised, that's all.”
“I can see that,” his eyes move around your face for some reason, frowning a little bit but then he seems to let it go, getting the menu closer to you “Okay, good, um… I actually made the reservation here because they have the best samgyeopsal in town.”
“Do they?”
“Mhm, so…”
He helps you pick your food and when it's time to order, he moves back to his seat. Gyuri asks you with her eyes if you're okay, you nod and grab her hand under the table with a tiny smile and then everyone is moving around to make space for San and Woo once they return.
He doesn't sit in front of you.
Relief floods you and you can finally feel your muscles relax as he is so far away, at the other end of the table and in the same row of seats, so you don't really see him unless you really try.
Which you don't, so your food goes down easy and the rest of the night as well.
Until everyone but you and Seonghwa move around their seats and he ends up right in your point of view as you do your best to ignore him and focus on his friend.
Seonghwa asks you about your hobbies, you tell him that you love to write movie essays on websites no one even cares to read and he asks you to show it to him so he can look it up when he gets home.
“And you've always done this? Since highschool?”
You nod and he beams “I read like the first three lines and it looks really good, Y/N. Is that why you love books so much? Because you're a writer?”
“I wouldn't consider myself a writer but… Sure, I love to write.”
“Did you know this?” he turns to San and your smile drops a little.
“Know what?”
“Your friend is an excellent writer.”
“Oh, I know. She, uh… Used to write stories on her notebook instead of paying attention in math class,” he sips on his drink and at the detail you didn't know he knew, you turn to him fully “I used to read over her shoulder sometimes.”
“She's really good.” Seonghwa is looking at your phone, still reading “Really smart, too.”
San’s jaw tenses a little and you can't understand why “I know.” He says again.
His friend is none the wiser, blocking your phone and returning it to you “I like it,” he says, smiling and you blush “The essay.” He clarifies after a second, prompting a laugh out of you that he joins.
San doesn't laugh, but you don't pay attention to him because Seonghwa is asking you something else.
When it's time to leave the restaurant, Wooyoung suggests going back to his apartment to milk the get-together as much as you all can.
You all throw your napkins at him in feign disgust at the choice of words but you all accept his proposal either way.
So now you're sitting on the couch, legs crossed and head on Gyuri’s shoulder while you listen to all of them talk (more like argue) about something that happened at their university last week, their voices drowning the soft music playing out of the tiny speaker resting on the counter.
San is on the floor, to your right. It's hard to keep your eyes off him when you feel him looking at you when you close your eyes and let the noise fade into the background. It's not like you're able to add something to the conversation anyway and Gyuri seems to be drinking her sorrows (not being able to hook Woo up with the girl she told you about) away.
Your best friend is slurring her words already, drink in hand and index finger pointing at Jongho accusatively because, apparently, the fight they're talking about was his fault.
“You don't—” she hiccups “You don't even know why it was your fault and it pisses me off even more, you know?”
“Okay, let me take that.” Taking the drink from her hand and before she starts complaining you stand up to make your way into the kitchen.
The sink is full and a mess, so you pour the liquid into it and leave the glass sitting right beside it. Distracted by the dilemma of helping Woo out with the dishes or not, you don't notice someone else also entering the space.
That's why you jump a little when you turn and catch Seonghwa leaning on the wall by the entrance. It startles you enough to laugh the nerves out afterwards and he shakes his head, smiling.
“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. They're boring me to death with the fight story.”
You nod, realizing that maybe that's because he doesn't attend the university anymore. He told you he graduated last year “They're too drunk to let it go.”
“Too drunk to dance to this amazing song, too. Who's playlist is that?” he frowns and you rest your back into the sink, rolling your eyes because he's pretending he doesn't know “Oh! Right, it's mine.”
“And they just don't know how to appreciate it, huh?” he shrugs and you click your tongue “They're such bad friends, Seonghwa, I truly don't know why you keep them around.”
“You appreciate it,” it's your turn to frown and he leaves his spot at the wall to walk towards you “You were singing along to it,” he explains and you let out an ah, nodding as he extends his palm to you, clearly inviting you to dance.
“Oh, I don't… I don't really know how to—”
“I'll show you.”
His kind eyes are asking you to trust him. You really, really shouldn't.
No matter how hard you try to bury the hopeless romantic little girl who decided to have a crush on a guy back in ninth grade, she's still there, begging you to let loose and live a little.
When you grab Seonghwa’s hand, you think the smile he gives you was worth listening to her.
You can't even tell the song that's softly playing anymore, a mellow r&b melody reaches your ear but you are not listening. You're focused on him, on the way he spins you around even if it doesn't fit the bit, on the way he laughs softly against your ear when he pulls you close by your hand and then pulls away just as quickly.
Laughing as well, the spell of this beautiful stranger (because you remind yourself you don't really know him that well) is hard to break.
Until it does.
Someone clearing their throat behind you stops you and Seonghwa's feet from moving any further. When the tall, older guy turns you around, you're face to face with San and his scowl.
“Sorry to interrupt but I need to get started on the dishes. Everyone else is heading out too,” he looks behind you, at the man who's still standing close to you and grabbing your hand “In case you want to ask Mingi for a ride.”
“They finally stopped fighting!” he fakes excitement, finally letting go of your hand and walking in front of you, blocking San with his body. You chuckle, barely clapping your hands to join the pretense as he's pulling up his phone “Can I ask for your number, Y/N?”
Blinking a few times, you're not sure if your heart speeds up because he's asking or because you hear San sigh exasperated behind him “S-sure.”
When you put your information on his phone, he bids you goodbye with a pat on your head and hugs San on his way out the kitchen.
Now that you two are alone, you suddenly want to run and join Seonghwa. You were doing so, so well.
Avoiding San like the plague it's much easier when you're safe hiding behind your two best friends.
Ignoring his stare would be much easier if you weren't stuck into place.
“I—”
“You—”
You both speak over each other and you force out an uncomfortable laugh that he doesn't return. Instead, he motions you to go first while he occupies the space in front of the sink, turning the faucet on. In doing so, he has to grab your waist and move you out of the way which makes you short circuit for a second “I was going to help you with that.” You finally stammer out.
He lets out what you take as an annoyed chuckle.
“You seemed busy, I don't know how you would've done it.”
Ouch.
Why do you allow his words to cut so deep when you stopped caring about what he does a long time ago?
The band aid rips, the stitches come undone and all it took him were five seconds to melt your resolve away like it was never there in the first place.
“I'll… I go get Gyuri so we can leave Woo and you to get to it, then.”
“Bathroom.” You hear him mutter under his breath as you are taking the final step to leave.
“Huh?”
“She's in the bathroom, probably puking her breakfast out,” he looks up at you to give you a tiny smile “You left her alone with Jongho and Woo for five minutes so she got ahold of another drink.”
“God damnit.”
Rushing out, you run into everyone else at the door and Mingi has to let go of his very intoxicated girlfriend when she reaches you to give you a hug “Don't be a stranger, Y/N! It was lovely to be around you, hm?”
The sudden physical contact almost makes you gasp but you cover it up with a shy giggle “O-oh. Yeah, um, lovely to meet you too. All of you.”
“Sorry about that,” her boyfriend grabs her arms and breaks the hug “She's right, though. Don't be a stranger.”
You nod once, smiling a little more sincerely now and everyone says bye to you, including Seonghwa, who grabs your hand one last time and gives it a squeeze before closing the front door of the apartment.
You think you feel your heart skip a tiny bit under all the shit San’s words pulled up to the surface a minute ago. But there's no time to dwell in that: you hear Gyuri opening up the bathroom door before gagging and closing it again with a slam.
Jesus Christ.
You two are really getting old. You stopped drinking like an hour ago, when you were starting to feel tipsy after your second beer, and you know she didn't drink as much as she used to maybe four years ago, but the visage that welcomes you when you open the door and find her crouched down in front of the toilet certainly brings back memories of those times.
“I left you alone for like… five minutes.” Sighing, you lean in to hold her flimsy ponytail and pat her back.
“I'm good,” she gags again and then holds up her hand to stop you from saying anything else “I'm fine.”
Smiling, you help her up and she grabs the counter as she's washing away the taste of whatever she ate earlier today and alcohol “Me when I lie…”
“Y/N!” she hits your arm but the movement somehow almost makes her trip.
“You want to lay down?”
“Is she okay?” Woo’s head peaks into the bathroom and when he sees his ex, he makes a face.
“Does she look like she's okay?” you help her out of the bathroom and start heading for Wooyoung's room.
“Wow, wow— Where do you think you're taking her?”
“To your room, dumbass!”
“Why mine? San's is literally right there.” He whines, pointing at the door you pass by without a second thought. You don't want to know where his room is or what it looks like at all.
“Yeah, well, did San get her this drunk?”
“How was I supposed to know that she was at her almost black-out phase? She never drinks that much in front of me!” he complains again but you're already tugging Gyuri in, who mumbles something incoherent and then flips Wooyoung off “Na Gyuri if you puke on my bed I swear to God!”
If you didn't know Wooyoung so much, the whining and the attitude would probably make you think he didn't care for her at all. But he's brushing her hair out of her forehead, securing the blanket around her and moving to take her socks off when you reach the door.
“I'm guessing you're okay with her staying the night?”
“Of course you guys can stay the night, Y/N.” He says and he stumbles a little to get to you, so you smile and shake your head, about to let him know that you're not staying anywhere near his roommate when he continues “You can come over whenever you like. You know that, right?”
“I know, Woo.”
“I barely even see you these days, I… Oh! I forgot!” he points to the end of the hall, towards the kitchen “You guys don't really like each other so maybe don't come over when he's here because I don't want to see you sad!”
“Lower your voice,” you whisper to him, bringing a hand to his face and patting his cheek a few times to wake him up “Did the alcohol suddenly hit you or something?” you sigh for the umpteenth time “Anyways, you should lay down and I'll get going. I'll come pick her up tomorrow and—”
“That's such a great idea! Oh, I'm a genius.”
“You didn't come up with it, Wooyoung.”
“San!” he calls all of the sudden and you wish he was sober enough to read the panic on your features. He seems much, much sober when his best friend starts walking down the hall and stops right beside you “Take Y/N home, please, she's going to give you a bag that you must protect with your life.”
Said best friend looks at you, his eyebrow arched in a silent question “Gyuri’s stuff.”
“Ah.”
“Go, go. It's getting late, I'll just… I'll cuddle with my ex until you get home.”
And she has the nerve to say he doesn't want her back.
When the door to Wooyoung's room closes and you're left with San on the poorly lit hallway, you make a mental note to never step foot on this place or allow your friends to drink ever again.
You don't even look at the guy before practically running down the hallway and reaching for your bag. You make sure your phone is secured in your pocket as you slip your shoes on and soon you're grabbing the front door knob and twisting it.
Keys jingle next to you but, again, you don't spare San a glance.
“So—”
“I'll get out of your hair, you don't have to… walk me home or whatever he said.”
“Y/N, it's late.”
Turning to him, your smile is as fake as the ones you've been giving him the past couple of years “And I'm a grown up, San, I can walk myself home.”
“What about Gyuri’s stuff?”
“She can wear Wooyoung's clothes, it's not like they never shared before. Anyway… Thank you for having me, it was nice to see you. Goodnight.” Your response comes out fast and it sounds as planned out as it actually is, kinda robotic and devoid of actual emotion.
San can't see through you the way you see through him. It's okay, he won't mind it.
He probably won't mind that you close his own door on his face either.
If that door is what you hear when you're making your way down the stairs in order to make a fast escape, you choose to ignore it.
You have to stop mid-way to compose yourself. You don't know why you feel like crying or why your heart is beating so fast.
You knew going in that there was a possibility of seeing him tonight. You know how San affects you, so effortless and seemingly like no time has passed at all in between senior year and present day.
You know all of this already, it's an endless loop that will keep repeating until you either move away or decide to stop agreeing to Wooyoung's plans all together.
So why is your chest heaving with emotion? Why is nostalgia playing mind tricks with you? Why do you want to turn back and hug him and beg him to turn back time so you can do it all differently now that you know how to look like and what to say to make him love you back?
Ah, you're definitely not sleeping tonight. So you start distracting yourself while walking down the stairs again. You remind yourself to tell a much sober Wooyoung how proud you are of him. You think about Seonghwa, about his kind eyes and the way he grabbed your hand to dance with him just half an hour ago. You wonder how long it will take you to get home if you jog all the way there. You—
Why the fuck is San outside when you get there?
In a comedic way, you can see your attempt to distract your mind off of him slipping through your fingers and evaporating in the warm summer night breeze.
In a realistic way, you're fucking pissed at him for taking the opportunity of a good night sleep away from you.
You pass him and start jogging like you planned a minute ago. Footsteps follow you until his arm brushes yours and you take a step to the side to stop it from happening again.
“Go home, Choi San.”
“Stop fighting it, Y/N. I'm walking you home.”
“It's a twenty minute walk—”
“Drop it.”
You do. And for the first ten minutes, no one utters a word even if the tension feels electric and the street is so quiet so you can hear when his breath accelerates when he jogs to catch up to you whenever you try to leave him behind.
Isn't that ironic. He was the one who left you behind all those years ago.
“I didn't know that you danced.”
He breaks the uncomfortable but safe silence to say that?
“Well, you saw me dance so I clearly dance when I want to.”
“You never danced with me.”
“You never asked me to.”
He laughs “I'm pretty sure I did on several occasions, Y/N.”
“Well, you're wrong,” you're getting annoyed. How dare he think he remembers better than you? “It doesn't matter anyway, what's past is past and—”
“You also gave Hwa your number,” he interrupts, his long legs taking two strides to get in front of you, still walking, facing your direction with his hands on his pockets.
It's dangerous and stupid, even if the streets are practically empty and the sidewalk barely has any bumps.
You hope he falls on his pretty face.
“I did.*
“I don't have your number.”
“Well, I changed it and you never asked for it, so…”
“You could've called me or texted me to let me know you did it.”
He's getting on your nerves.
“San,” you start, taking in a deep breath you hope calms you down “We don't even text anymore, why would you want my number?”
“Do you like him?”
“Seonghwa?” you ask, frowning and he nods “Like… As a person?”
“As a potential love interest.” He clarifies matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes.
“I met him today, San. Why do you want my number?”
“Because we're friends?” he offers after a second, shifting so he's walking by your side again.
“Are we?” you ask, laughing bitterly at that “Because we haven't spoken a word to each other in years.”
“That's not true.”
“It is, San.”
“You… You don't speak to me anymore, so…”
“Well your girlfriend at the time told me she didn't feel comfortable with me speaking to you anymore,” you sigh “so I didn't and you didn't try to talk to me either.”
“Well, I want to talk to you now.”
“And is your new girlfriend aware of that? Is she comfortable with that? Because I don't want anyone telling me what to do anymore and—”
“Why wouldn't she be comfortable? We're friends, Y/N.”
“Are we?” you insist, petty, bitter and overall very, very hurt.
He looks offended at that “I assumed we were?”
He's getting on your fucking nerves.
“We stopped being friends the second Minseo asked me to stay away from you because she didn't like me, San.”
“She’s not in my life anymore—”
The words are coming out of your mouth without even thinking it through. His demeanor, the way he's somehow reproaching you for whatever he saw between you and his friend, the way he pretends nothing happened between you and him, thinking that you two are still friends.
“We stopped being friends when you pulled away from me, saw me do the same and did nothing to stop it from happening, San.”
He stops in his tracks at that. You don't, pushing forward and quickening your step even if your calves burn.
“Either way,” you speak up “Make sure you tell your girlfriend about wanting my number and then you can ask Seonghwa for it if you want—”
“She's not my girlfriend anymore!”
Now that stops you, just a few buildings down from yours, you turn around just to find San closer that you thought he'll be.
“O-oh. I… I didn't know that. I'm sorry.”
“You didn't do anything to be sorry for.”
“Still, it must suck so I'm sorry you're going through that.”
“We didn't want the same things and so we ended it. It is what it is.”
You nod.
He walks the few steps separating you and you have to raise your chin a little to look him in the eye for the first time since you left his apartment “I wanted to tell you.”
“That you broke up with your girlfriend?”
“Yeah, I don't know why. It happened when I broke up with Minseo too, I just… You're the first person that I thought of calling when it happened. I texted you, too, but the messages didn't go through.”
You hum at that.
Why would he even say that?
You resume your step, not really knowing what to say until you reach the stairs that lead to your building’s entrance.
“And you didn't ask Woo for my number?”
He follows you up.
“I don't think he would've given it to me if I asked.”
That sounds like an excuse, so you don't let it slide as you enter the code to your building and let yourself inside, San holding the door so he can get in as well “Why would he do that?”
“Because he…” San sighs, pressing the elevator button “Nevermind. He just wouldn't.”
Frowning, you turn to him “No, now you have to tell me.”
“It doesn't matter, really—”
“Tell me, San.”
He stares for a second and then looks away, like a child, vulnerable and you can't help but soften at that “He didn't like the way I treated you.”
Eating your words from before, you shake your head “You didn't treat me like anything.”
The elevator dings and you get inside.
San follows you.
“Exactly,” he says, resting his shoulder on the metal “Like you said I just did nothing and—”
“Well, sometimes that's just what happens,” you want to end this. You want to pack Gyuri’s bag, give it to him and never see him again.
This conversation hurts, it reopens barely closed wounds and it creates new ones you don't really need when it comes to whatever happened between you two.
There's only so much a person can handle and it really doesn't help that you're a fool for San. He takes advantage of it, of the fact you can't really push him away at this point and the fact that he wants to have this conversation now instead of four and half years ago?
Mean.
He's mean. He's evil. He's… He's staring at you with a spark in his eyes that you recognize too well.
Hope.
When you get to your floor, you try to wipe the image away while busying yourself with your keys. Your hands tremble a little but you're able to open the door of your apartment and get in without inviting him.
He gets in anyway. You take off your shoes as he closes the front door.
He stays silent as he follows you around the apartment and you don't worry about turning the lights on. You get into Gyuri’s room and start picking out a comfy hangover outfit for your friend. Some clean underwear, sweatpants, two shirts and socks.
When you drop to the floor, in front of the closet, to look for a bag to stash all of it in, San silently clutches beside you.
“It shouldn't have happened to us. Never us.”
You can't take it anymore.
“San, what is this? What are you doing? I mean, why are we—”
“I know.”
“It's been years…”
“I miss you.”
He's so mean. But the softness in his tone resembles the one he used all the way back in highschool, when he told you that not being friends with you didn't feel right and you want to cave in right there and then.
Your heart screams at you to do it, your reason warns you that you both have been through this before and it never ends right.
You simply can't stay friends with Choi San.
Your love for him must run too deep, your resentment claws at it and tries to hurt it but it's an immovable force that won't budge even if you try to bury it under the years that have passed, the things he has done.
Tears gather in your eyes and you try to blink them away as you stare at your best friend's clothes on your lap and try to come up with something to close this path up again, reconstruct the picket fence you built around it the second he broke your heart for the first time.
“Yeah,” you whisper back, letting the walls fall a little “I miss you too but I don't think I miss whatever version of you you are right now, San.”
“W-what?”
His shaky voice makes the walls crumble and crash.
Turning to him, your hand shakes as you place it on top of his “And you don't miss the version of me I am right now. You miss what I was back then, the comfort and the shoulder to cry on I offered you when Arin and you broke up. You miss my availability and the way I didn't press my feelings on you because it didn't matter if I liked you or not, you were my friend first and the guy that I had a crush second but—” you choke up, tears falling down your cheeks even if you don't want them to “I can't do it anymore. I'm not that girl anymore and I won't be there for you now that you and Kyungmi broke up because I can't handle it. I can't, I'm sorry.”
He doesn't deny any of it.
He stares at you, tears wetting his cheeks as well and it hurts even more this way. You wish you had the strength to hold it together, to treat him like you did on the street a few minutes ago, but you can't.
There's no way you could ever hate him like you want to.
“You know…” he starts in a whisper, letting out a humorless chuckle “That's what I used to tell myself too.”
“Hm?”
“That you were my friend first and the girl that I had a crush on second.”
How dare he mutter the words you always wanted to hear, the ones you picture being said in a different setting, the ones that haunted your every waking thought that period of time you doubted your friends, your mom, yourself for even believing Choi San could ever have a crush on you.
He doesn't get to say them. You want to tell him but the words die on your throat and form a lump that you can't swallow down.
You don't get to say that. You don't get to say that.
Your hand drops from his and you look away again only to grab the first bag you find on the closet floor and shove Gyuri’s stuff in it.
If the lack of response it's what prompts the hurt in his voice the next time he speaks, you don't want to think about it.
“I wish I didn't. Now it's too late to do something about it, huh?”
This time the rage comes back with a mask on. Feing settlement for all the what if’s covers you like a blanket on a really hot summer night: unwanted, unnecessary.
But you can't sleep without it, so you do nothing to push it away.
“I guess it is.”
You get up from the floor, leaving the room and wiping your face with bitterness coating your movements as you wait by the door for him to get out.
When he does and he steps in front of you, you extend the bag and he takes it without missing a beat.
Voice robotic and words premeditated, you open the front door for him “Thanks for walking me home and taking this back.”
He leans a little into your space and you don't move away. But just as he did in highschool, he takes in your hitched breath and does nothing more.
“Thanks for letting me talk to you.”
He didn't give you much of a choice there but it's okay. This is closure, this is the end of your story with Choi San and you convince yourself you're glad that it is.
“Sure,” you whisper back and he steps outside, turning around to watch you slowly close the door “goodnight, San.”
He doesn't say it back.
When the darkness of your apartment engulfs you, that's when you let yourself breakdown. Covering your mouth with your palm, you descend until your knees are against the wood on the floor and closing your eyes you make it a point to let it all out.
You'll let it all out, drink some water, text Wooyoung and Gyuri to let them know you're safe and go to bed.
And tomorrow you'll begin your day with the freedom of finally knowing what would've happened if you or San ever took the next step.
This is fine. This is moving on. This is—
The doorbell rings.
Opening the door again, you crease your eyebrows in a silent question that San doesn't care to answer, so you look around the floor in case he forgot something you're missing. You wipe your cheeks and under your eyes as you turn to him again “Did you—”
Time slows down when he makes it past the threshold and you can't move an inch, gaping at who you once thought was the love of your life “What are you doing, San?”
“Something about it.”
“What?”
“Forgive me,” he asks, breathless and in a murmur, fueling your confusion. And then he's closing the distance, dropping Gyuri’s bag and cupping your face so gently that it hurts “but I'm doing something about it.”
You stopped dreaming about the possibility of San kissing you that one time you two were on your bed and, another time, you told yourself that, if it ever happened, you wouldn't kiss him back.
It's too late to kiss him back.
But sparks fly when he crushes you against the wall and takes in a breath before slothing his mouth against yours like he's been waiting to do this every single day for the past nine years you've known each other.
There's nothing you can do to conceal the way yearning takes over you, pours out of you, making you breathe into his open mouth and kiss him back like you always wanted to.
You already know it is a mistake by the time you grab his shirt to keep him in place but does it really matter when this is all you ever wanted?
Feeling warmth leave your face, you notice the way he desperately crowds your space as his chest bumps into yours, leg claiming its place in between yours, the palm that leaves you pressing against the wall, next to your head.
The kiss is filled with emotion, with longing and desire and it steals the air out of your lungs tragically and beautifully at the same time. Before, you used to dream about his lips making everything feel right, making you fit in in a world you didn't feel like you belonged to.
But this kiss drops you into uncharted territory, drags you into the depths of something that should be buried by now, after all this time. It brings the flame back to life and it's dangerous.
The fact that it feels this way, both marvelous and catastrophic at the same time, makes you so sad.
Sorrow descends down your face until your mouth is picking it up and your tongue is mixing it with whatever emotion is cruising through San right now.
You have to know.
He spent your entire youth and early adulthood keeping it to himself, knowing when to show his true colors and when to hide them, choosing who to do it with and you realize the San that lives in your head is nothing but a figment of what you wanted him to be.
Because him holding to your waist like it's his only lifeline doesn't fit the San you remember, him telling you he liked you back then doesn't fit the guy who was just your best friend.
You need to know.
“San,” brokenly, you speak into his mouth and he pulls away just enough to see your face. Your eyes remain closed, your chest heaving and your lips trembling “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I want you, Y/N.”
You push him away, weakly, almost like you don't really mean it because deep down you don't but he steps away like you're asking to.
Because, of course, your mind scraps the bottom of your resentment to give his words a completely new meaning.
“You can find another girl to fuck and be your rebound, San,” more tears spill down and you wipe them away in anger but more threat to fall down so you cover your face with your hands and groan, desperate “I can't do this, especially not when I know that you know how bad I wanted you. Y-you know what you do to me San so stop—”
“I want you in my life. I don't— What? I don't want you like a rebound, I… Can we sit down and turn on a light so I can look at you when I say this?”
His words should be reassuring but they're not, the way you tend to feel unlovable around him coming up to the surface, preventing you from thinking clearly.
You can also feel his lips on yours still. It's dizzying but you manage to push yourself off the wall and pad around until you hit the switch of the warm light lamp near the couch and the apartment comes to life just like that.
He takes in the space he's never seen before, walking slowly towards the living room and looking over the bookshelf that screams your name all over it. He smiles a bit as he looks over the book titles and you look away before your heart starts acting up again.
You can't stay mad at him for long if he's looking through something so personal to you and smiling that fondly at it. It feels even more intimate than the kiss you two just shared.
Wiping your cheeks once more, you are sure you look a mess but he doesn't seem to mind it once he comes into your point of view, sitting down on the couch, in front of your standing form. He grabs you by your hands until you're sitting next to him, close to him, cologne intoxicating your senses.
“I told you I liked you when we were in highschool, right?”
You nod.
“You seemed surprised but it was dark so I'm not really sure. I thought you knew, everyone knew.”
Oh, he's a comedian.
“How would I have known, San? I… Yeri told me you liked me one time, in senior year, but I denied it. Then, my mom told me you seemed to want me in a non-platonic way and I dismissed her as well,” you take in a deep, shaky breath “For me, the thought of you liking me just didn't make sense. You loved Arin and she's… She doesn't look or act like I did back then at all, so how would I have known?”
You didn't need clues and puzzles and what if’s, you needed words and actions that weren't confusing. You needed him to tell you back then, because telling you right now and kissing you senseless after he broke up with a girl he supposedly was very in love with means nothing but pain.
“I didn't realize you liked me too,” you make a face, about to tell him off, but he interrupts “I didn't! I thought you liked Yeri and I thought you saw me as the annoying guy who wouldn't leave you alone. I only just realized it a couple years ago, because Woo told me.”
You raise your eyebrows and mutter under your breath “I'm murdering him tomorrow.”
The corner of his lips twitch before he shakes his head in dismissal of what you said “I liked you. I really, really liked you and never told a soul because… Well, it's scary when you fall in love, right?”
“San, you had no problem telling Arin, Minseo or Kyungmi that you liked them.”
He looks down to the floor, lost in thought and you want to open your mouth to take what you just said into a new direction, but you don't “Maybe that's because I didn't love them the way I love you.”
Oh.
Love you? As in… He loves you right now too?
No way.
“You didn't love me, San. You don't love me right now either, you… Maybe we both were in love with the idea of love? Maybe that's what happened and—”
“Quit telling me what I'm feeling, Y/N. You always do that, you always assume you know what I'm feeling but you don't!”
Raising your voice a little more, you try to get your point across in the worst way possible: by being stubborn “You don't know me! How can you possibly—”
“I knew you back then, Y/N! And I loved you back then, too!” He looks like wants to say something more but he doesn't, instead, he takes a calming breath and then leans into your space for the third time tonight “And I might not know you now but I want to. That's what I meant when I said that I want you. I want you in my life, I want to know the person you became when we stopped talking, I want to talk to you every single day and I want to hold you and kiss you and be by your side however you want me to, I just… I can't lose you again.”
His confession renders you speechless and you notice his chest is heaving, going up and down in sync with yours.
But the way he pulled away from you senior year still hurts, it paints a picture of what's going to happen if you accept this.
You can't believe his words.
He must feel lonely and confused, like he did when Arin broke up with him. He must be looking for a shelter you can't provide.
“And when you find another girl that's more to your liking? What then, San?”
“There's no one that I love more than you, Y/N and I'm sorry I was shit at proving it back then and I'm sorry that it took so many years for me to come to my senses.”
He's tearing up and your heart pangs absurdly loud at that.
“I saw you with Seonghwa earlier today, laughing and dancing and flirting and I thought: Oh, maybe if I didn't waste that much time pretending I'm someone I'm not, that would be me.”
You stare for a second, you watch a single tear drop down his cheek and then look away.
“Is that what you were doing? Is that why you pulled away?”
“Maybe?” he offers and you turn to him again. Is not enough and maybe he can see it in your expression, because he goes on “I mean, I… I thought I wanted Arin. I thought I wanted Minseo. I had people in my life who were really happy to see me with them and I just…”
“Wanted to keep them happy,” you nod, understanding. He doesn't have to say his mothers name for you to know he's referring to her and maybe his other highschool friends outside of Wooyoung “Were you pretending with me as well?”
“No,” he answers right away “You and Woo were the only ones who saw me for who I really was back then.”
“And why do you think you love me now, San?” you ask, deflating against the couch and ignoring the way your heart soars at his quick response.
“Because I never stopped,” he stammers out and then clears his throat “Because I looked for you in Minseo and Kyungmi and I wondered for years why they couldn't make me feel the same way. And I told myself I didn't need to feel the same way and that I deserved to wonder for the rest of my days but seeing you tonight? I can't.”
Straightening your spine, the pained look you sent in his direction is not intentional but it prompts him to lean closer and closer until he's cupping your cheek again.
“I can't keep wondering.” His voice is a sweet whisper, a siren song that draws you in until your forehead is resting against his.
All these years, you were so self-focused on changing to a better version of who he used to know, learning from your mistakes and closing off to the opportunity of letting him prove himself a better man, you forgot that time passed for him too. He’s telling you he changed, too.
Imagination is a safe space. Is where you hide, where desire can take its wings and fly high without hurting you too much. Make belief has rescued you before but this? The way his nose nuzzles softly into yours and your breaths tangle? This is very real. And reality is prone to hurt you.
But the want you feel is undeniable. The way your entire being wants to cave in and give him an opportunity is suffocating, it makes you choke out a sob that he follows with one of his own.
You kiss him, softly at the beginning, but his hands on you tighten and you let yourself get lost in the way they go down your neck and your arms, caressing you softly until they reach your waist and pull you into his lap.
Pulling away, you grab his chin with two fingers and force his teary eyes to snap open, searching for an answer on yours.
“If you hurt me,” you start, breathless “If you're mocking me, if you're using me to get over Kyungmi, if you are pulling me back in to break my heart again, Choi San, I swear to God I will kill you.”
“I won't do that to you ever again, Y/N,” he returns softly “I love you, I'm sorry if I ever hurt you but I love you.”
Others would argue that it is pathetic how quickly you forgive him. But then again, you could never be mad at San.
You were only mad at yourself for how everything turned out.
“I love you too, Sannie.”
Saying something never felt so freeing before.
“Oh, Y/N…” you can see the way relief washes his worries away “Y/N…” he starts to say but then leans in to kiss you again and never finishes his words.
You don't mind it.
Pouring out all the pent up affection you pretended to bury for years, you explore his mouth and carve into your memory the way he feels. The way he sighs into it when your tongue brushes his, the way he pulls you in closer when your fingers reach the nape of his neck and pull on his hair there, hands splayed on your back so he can keep you in place as he leans down and places you against the worn out couch.
He maps you out, hands going down your waist in a familiar feeling that brings back that memory of you two laying down on your bed. Only this time, he's actually touching you with a purpose. This time, you two have made up your minds and your limbs are tangled in a way you can feel all of him pressing up against you.
It starts to get stuffy, the space on the couch not nearly enough to have him the way you want to. Soon, you're both standing up, mouths still moving against each other and hands roaming everywhere until you're undoing the buttons on his shirt.
He pulls away to fully take it off, eyes never leaving yours, dropping the shirt to the ground, next to the couch and then he's on you again, making your back crash into the wall as he works the knots keeping your blouse together.
He walks you through the hall, stopping only to take your top off and then he's walking you to a room that has a familiar scent that doesn't belong to you.
“Wrong room, wrong room,” you say into his lips and he laughs, looking to your surroundings “Mine’s over there.” you point to the other end of the hall, taking his hand and pulling him towards it.
You don't make it far before he's yanking you towards him again. He looks down, taking your body in and you do the same, his firm and defined stomach a sight you never thought you would be able to see.
“You're so beautiful,” he whispers, backing you against the wall again and kissing your cheek “So, so beautiful.”
Turning your head to chase his mouth, he lets out a heavy sigh when his lips trail a path to your neck and murmurs against the skin there “I never told you how beautiful I found you before but you're so perfect, baby.”
“I always thought I wasn't your type, San,” you let out a noise when he grabs your hips and pulls you forward, crashing his into yours “Fuck.”
“And I always thought you were too much for me, too smart,” he kisses his way back up, focusing on your jaw and chin until he's kissing your cheek again “too pretty,” he moves to your ear, pecking right under it and you hold him closer “too good for me.”
It doesn't really matter that this is all new to you, the way he's speaking, the tenor of his voice, the things he's saying… It sparks something familiar in you. You're pulling his hair back to make him look at you, a moan slipping out of his lips at that.
You want to hear it again.
He's smiling at your reaction, hand tightening on his locks.
However, that smile drops when he seems to recognize the gleam in your eyes.
You gather up courage, feeling empowered by the way his hooded eyes darken but wait patiently for you to speak your mind.
“Maybe I'm too good for you now, too,” you lean in, your lips softly tracing his “Maybe you should prove to me that you deserve me, San.”
It's a dare. One that he seems to like a lot because his eyes sparkle with the same fire they used to back in the day.
“Oh, I'll prove it to you, alright.” He whispers, panting when you let go of his hair and he leans into you to kiss your lips briefly before pulling away again.
His hand tilts your head back and you rest it against the cold wall, his fingers touch your bottom lip before going down and down and down until they rest against the seam of your pants, unbuttoning them in one swift movement.
Going back up, his nails softly dig into your skin and you preen, taking the soft sting of his ministrations like you two have done this a million times before.
His mouth is on yours again, his hands are pulling you off the wall and into your room until you two land on your mattress with a soft tud, a moan spilling out of your lips when he sloths his knee in between your legs and pulls them apart with expertise.
You don't have the mind to break down what that means.
Opening your eyes when he kisses down your neck again, you notice your room is barely lit by the street lights outside, curtains pulled open and windows closed but, this way, you can see the way San kisses between your breasts and your belly, catching his eyes when he looks up to measure your reaction.
You sigh, already feeling some sort of build up going on down there and he hasn't even touched you properly yet.
You don't even want to think about how wet you actually are.
He leans back, open palms going down your legs slowly until they reach your feet. It tickles and you can't help but let out a giggle that he joins short after, his gaze never losing the edge because of it, though.
“San…”
He guides your hips up so he can take off your pants and you sigh when his hands return, raising your leg up “I missed your laugh,” he says low, attaching his lips to your calf “I miss being the one making you laugh too.”
You feel like crying again but then he's letting your leg down and grabbing the other one to give it the same treatment, so your tears can wait.
This time, he moves upwards till his mouth nears your clothed center and your breath hitches.
Yeah, you can definitely cry later.
“You want me to prove to you how much I want you, Y/N?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting your mound now “How much I love you?”
“San, p-please…”
“Fuck, look at you.” He sounds like he's too lost in the heat of the moment and you're kind of grateful, because the moan you let out when his fingers hook on your underwear and pull them to the side to expose your pussy to his hungry eyes is loud.
When he kisses you right where you need him, you let out another moan. And when he parts your folds to lick a stripe up to your clit, you curse him under you breath until he's laughing against you softly, the vibrations accumulating heat on your belly.
He doesn't tease you much longer and you look down at him just to catch the moment his self control slips, eating you out like a man starved while his hand stays on your hip to hold you down and keep you underwear from interrupting his feast.
“This is like,” he dives in again for a few seconds and you grab the sheets beneath you “All my fantasies coming to life but better.”
He's so chatty during this and the only thing you can do is stammer a yeah? and pray for it to reach his ears.
“Mhm,” the circles your clit with the tip of his tongue and your legs shake “Taste even better than what I dreamed, too.”
The heat of his mouth leaves you, lips spreading your wetness through your stomach until he fully reaches your face, your eyes closed and lips already waiting for him.
Tongue caressing yours, your hands trail down his torso and focus on getting his pants off. You're shaking with excitement so it proves to be more difficult than you imagined at first but he helps you in unbuckling his belt.
Once the piece of clothing is one the floor (or the bed, you're not really paying attention on where it lands), you don't waste time in feeling him up through his boxers.
The hiss you get in return makes you smile.
Bringing your lips to his neck, you suckle on this pulse point and gain another pleased noise before grazing your teeth against skin and moving to his collarbone next.
In a way, you get what he means. If he truly was pining over you the way you were pining over him, the thought of exploring his tan skin and making him moan feels like a dream.
So you kiss him again in order to make it all last longer.
The minutes pass between the both of you, softly making out and figuring out what gets both of you going, discarding your underwear in the process.
You realize your moans make San’s cock twitch against your leg and he seems to notice the way your hips buck up everytime his hands handle you more roughly.
After a few minutes of just this, you feel his hand making its way down again and the pads of his fingers circle your clit until you're grasping the sheets again. He gathers your arousal and then enters one finger slowly and when it slides in and out with ease, he enters the next one.
There's really not much prepping he needs to do, already soft and compliant under him, you relax into his comfortable touch before you're aching for something else. And your mouth is preoccupied with his, so you do something else to catch his attention.
Hands caressing his back, you let them drop to his ass with a soft smack that wins you a soft huff on amusement and then a whine when you move his hips towards yours.
“Condom?”
You shake your head “I'm clean and I have an implant.”
“Oh?” he smirks, about to tease you but you squeeze his butt again and he moans “Fuck. I'm clean too.”
“Good,” you whisper against his cheek, laughing as he arranges his position.
And he might've been touching you all this time, kissing you until your mind emptied and your lips are all swollen up, but the look on his eyes when he slowly enters you is what might drive you over the edge.
Grabbing your hands, he pins them on the side of your head as he moves, dropping his head down with a groan as you take him in, nose touching yours and moth whispering sweet things you can't quite pick up.
He feels so good.
This all feels way too good to be real.
In the cloud you're at, you allow yourself to dream a little more before the reality of what your confessions mean dawns on you.
For now, you allow San to make love to you. Sweetly, slowly and with a passion you never were lucky enough to encounter before.
Maybe it's because your previous lovers didn't have your heart the way San does.
He rams his hips into yours hard, closing his eyes and resting his warm cheek against yours, kissing your face inch by inch when you accompany his movements with your own.
When his pace picks up, you hug him close and secure your legs around his hips as you moan.
“Y-yes, fuck.”
“Like that?” he repeats the movement from before, pulling out and then in with such force it rocks the entire bed.
“Just like that, baby, fuck.”
“God, you sound so good,” you smile a little, forehead resting on his shoulder before your head falls down against your pillow again “I love you,” he repeats against your lips, letting your hands go to cup your face with both of his again “I love you so much.”
Teetering over the edge, you feel happy tears stinging in your eyes. Though closed, you can feel San’s stare on you, on your face, on the way you react to his sweet words and relentless pace.
You say it back in a whisper and he repeats it again and again and again until you're both coming and tears are spilling down your cheeks.
He kisses them away.
You wipe his with trembling fingers as you come down, having trouble breathing from everything that just happened.
You don't feel suffocated anymore, you feel like you've been freed. Like this was supposed to happen at some point and you two finally got around to it.
“I love you,” he says once more before slipping out of you with a parting kiss.
Holy shit.
When San gets up from the bed and you point him to the bathroom, down the hallway, you're left with a sticky mess in between your legs and a lot to think about but you settle on four things.
San just made love to you. There's no way that was just sex.
There's also no way you're coming back from this.
Gyuri is probably going to kill you.
And that, obviously, your feelings for San never left. You feel the familiar warmth of them spreading through your post-orgasmic state. They're there, mocking you, asking you who the fuck you thought you were for pushing them away.
He returns, toilet paper in his hands before leaning in and cleaning you up, lips immediately finding home on your skin as he does.
You both giggle at that.
You probably need to shower but you've been crying and there's no way you're leaving this bed tonight. He throws the paper away on your bedroom’s trashcan and then crashes into the bed next to you, still naked, still looking at you with so much love you're wondering what stopped you from seeing it was there before.
Taking his hand, you bring it to his lip and give his knuckles a peck “That was really good.”
“It was.”
“I can't believe we actually just did that…”
He smiles and what he says next shocks you even more than his confession “I want to take you out.”
“San… You just came inside me not even ten minutes ago.”
“And?” you laugh and he shakes his head, leaning into your space again “I spent many years doing everything wrong, let me do it the right way.”
“Making love to me one time and then taking me out on a date is not the right way, sir.”
He nuzzles your cheek with his nose and you let out a pleased sigh “Who said it was just one time, huh?” Attacking your neck with his lips again, you push him away with a laugh.
“Oh, come on!”
He laughs as well “Give me ten minutes and I'll make it two!”
San makes love to you two more times. And by four in the morning, you're snuggled into his arms and sleeping soundly.
When you wake up and find the space next to you empty, you think it was all a dream. Your naked form begs to differ and you quickly put the t-shirt you usually wear to bed on and your panties underneath it to go out and face the feelings of your actions fighting with the blender in the kitchen.
“How do you two live with this stupid thing?”
“We don't,” you answer, startling him “We don't use it. What are you trying to make?”
San’s shirtless, wearing his pants and his hair messy. Looking back at the living room clock, you see it's just five past ten.
Smiling as he approaches you, you forget you must look a mess too when he pecks your lips and barely pulls away “Good morning, beautiful.”
You pretend to cringe at that, pulling away “Oh, God. Morning, dumbass.”
“You like it, you're blushing,” he points out and the pink on your cheek deepens as he's going back to the blender “Does anything work here?”
“The microwave,” you shrug “And the stove. Were you trying to make yourself a…” you look over the ingredients he has pulled out of your fridge “Green juice?”
“I was trying to make both of us a green juice,” he corrects and your heart skips at the immediate domestic attitude he has with you “But now I can tell neither of you drink anything like it, hm? I'm buying you a blender.”
“Please don't.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think that one is broken?”
He hums, huffing out a laugh seconds later and you walk over to him, unsure on how to approach him even though what you did yesterday night and earlier this morning didn't allow your shyness to step in.
Now you're feeling it.
He can tell, because he stops fighting with the steel appliances to grab your waist and pull you close “I wanted to make you breakfast.”
“We can make breakfast together and I can order your green juice,” you compromise and he nods, but he doesn't let you go “And later we can go out on that date you promised me yesterday and we can go over what we're going to tell the two idiots.”
His smile drops.
“Oh, fuck.”
Grimacing, you nod “It was the second thing I thought about after waking up.”
“What was the first?”
“Oh, I was trying to remember if you ever asked me to dance before,” he nods with a smile “Guess what? You didn't.”
He fake gasps at that “I did!”
“No, you didn't!”
“Babe, yes I did,” he insists and you laugh, which prompts him to wrap his hands around you tighter when you try to get away from him “It was when—”
“Oh. My. God. I'm going to be sick again.”
Now when the fuck did Gyuri come back.
And why is Wooyoung with her too, jaw slack as he watches both of you pull away from each other and create a safe distance that doesn't help whatever your best friends just saw.
“It worked?” he asks and you can barely hear him until he hollers like a crazy person “Oh, it worked! I am a genius!”
“Wooyoung, hold me! I'm going to kill them!” Gyuri looks like she's about to launch towards you at any second now, so you close your eyes and accept your fate. But nothing happens “Wait— What worked?”
When you open them again, San is hiding behind you and Gyuri’s back is to both of you as she looks at Wooyoung with, what you assume, murderous intentions.
“Gyuri, let's talk about this,” the black haired guy puts his hands up “You were too drunk to discuss it so I made the choice of— Gyuri, no!”
You burst into laughter when she starts chasing him around the apartment and San giggles as well, only more nervous than delighted by their little cat and mouse game.
He's probably sensing he's next on her hit list.
As if you would let anything happen to him in the first place.
“Stop, stop! I'm sorry, please leave me alone!” you hear Wooyoung’s voice echoing through your hall and in a second he's entering the kitchen, rounding you and San “I'm so happy for you guys, really, this was meant to happ— Stop!” He cries when Gyur catches onto him and yanks his hair to stop him from running.
“Y/N,” she starts, chest heaving and you take a step back, crashing into San’s chest. He holds onto you only to push you a little and protect himself from the fury of your best friend “When I told you fuck him I didn't meant this!”
“I know.”
Wooyoung whines but he can't get away from her grasp so he just accepts it and pouts like a child.
“A-and you!” She points towards the guy resting his chin on your shoulder “How dare you! If this is something casual for you then—”
“I love her.” He defends himself quickly and your heart all but stops at that.
“You do?” Wooyoung coos, amazed at his best friend’s confession.
Gyuri's anger falters at that.
“You… You do?”
“And I love him,” you let out in a shy whisper, smiling a bit “But you already knew that.”
“Of course I already knew that, bitch, I am your other half,” she makes a point to stare at San as she says it, letting Wooyoung go and he massages the part of his scalp that was targeted by his ex “Don't forget that.”
“Y-yes ma'am.”
You laugh again and Woo joins the embrace, eyeing you both expectantly and rolling his eyes when neither of you say anything to him “Well, you are so welcome guys. What are we having for breakfast?”
You and San don't get to go out on that date.
But when you do, he asks you to be his girlfriend the next day.
And when you say yes he almost breaks down in excited tears.
Eventually, even Gyuri comes around and threatens him into treating you right, which means he earned her seal of approval.
You delete the document on your laptop when you find it a month into being his girlfriend and, instead, start drafting your new beginning on it, in first person this time because the story doesn't feel like it belongs to someone else now.
The first line read as it follows:
How did I ever think San and I could be just friends?
If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!
THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)
read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)
pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)
word count: 8.5k
summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.
warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!
author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡
♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo
(i. you have a sharp tongue)
fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.
"you'll get used to it."
luke sat up to see you climbing through the window.
you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer.
“the shitty mattress?”
“i meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.”
your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous.
“good to know.” he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasn’t in it. “i’m luke, by the way.”
“yeah, i know. i’m —”
“y/n!”
you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.
“someone stole my candy.”
“i’m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.” your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.
maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. “it was you, wasn’t it?”
“that depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?”
some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in.
“what? n-no!”
“then you have your answer, maddy.” you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.”
chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didn’t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you.
“come on.” you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasn’t following you. “best view of camp. trust me.”
a shiver passed through luke. trust didn’t come easy to him. he also didn’t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.
so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp.
it just didn't seem fair.
there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods.
“i don’t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but aren’t there, like, a million other gods?”
you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest.
“camp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, they’re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they can’t even do that half the time,” you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest.
every demigod knew that the gods didn’t appreciate sarcasm. they didn’t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.
you didn’t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself.
“anyways, that’s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesn’t have a cabin at camp. like me.”
“so, who’s your godly parent?”
you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore — scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.
luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.
"nemesis. goddess of revenge."
"that's....hardcore."
you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.”
“so that’s why you’re extra nice to new campers, huh?”
“no, i was just in a good mood today.” you smirked.
“guess i was just lucky, then.”
luke couldn’t help but smile at your laugh — sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching.
“what people don’t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things and….” you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. “you face the consequences.”
“that makes sense.” luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. “like karma.”
“yeah. exactly.”
you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:
“by the way, i’m sorry about your friend.” you swallowed and caught luke’s gaze.
chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything — anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too.
“she deserved more.”
luke’s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there.
“yeah,” he finally whispered back. “she did.”
we all do.
neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise.
(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)
“slow down, tiger.”
your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm.
“left hand,” you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. “you, my friend, are in need of a break.”
luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.
his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news he’d gotten early that day.
“come sit with me,” you urged. “you’re exhausted, tiger.”
luke bristled at your nickname for him.
sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.
everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldn’t let it go.
case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.
as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink — his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in.
“thanks,” luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly.
the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again.
“i guess chiron and your dad decided you weren’t ready for a quest.”
luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”
“the only time you’d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.” you looked down at luke’s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. “you promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."
fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasn’t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right — he had let her down.
the realization made luke’s day go from bad to worse.
"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.”
“well, thank the gods everything worked in the end,” luke grumbled.
“don’t thank the gods,” you quipped. “thank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.”
when luke didn’t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.
“look, i’m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods don’t get to define what a hero is, or how you don’t need a quest to prove that you’re worthy of being one. we’ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this won’t be our last time, either.”
“then why are you here?” the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.
“because she’s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didn’t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan s’mores. you could probably use one, too, since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”
you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.
later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many s’mores as she wanted. you’d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabin’s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning.
when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each other’s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone?
luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabeth’s warnings. she handed him another one.
"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward."
whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabeth’s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of you.
(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)
“i just….i can’t fucking believe you, luke.”
“i don’t get why you’re so upset — you’ve never cared about quests before.”
luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp.
annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadn’t found anything so far, which meant that you’d spent the better part of an hour bickering over luke’s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.
before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready.
a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him.
luke parried his opponent’s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through.
he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him.
his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponent’s neck.
you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood — it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.
luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.
“your nose.”
luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power.
you, on the other hand, didn’t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood.
“you don’t have to —”
“i know you think you’re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldn’t deny your admirers your pretty face,” you teased.
it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess.
it was pathetic how much power you had over him.
“besides, i wouldn’t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadn’t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. it’s what we do. we take care of each other, right?”
he couldn’t argue with that.
a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson.
“just tell me honestly,” you finally murmured. “why don't you want me to join your quest?”
luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldn’t meet luke’s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.
he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadn’t expected you to be so hurt. so broken.
he hadn’t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.
“look, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldn’t fully be in the quest. i’d be so caught up in….well, you.”
a pause.
“is that a bad thing?”
“not usually, no.”
you smirked a little at that, and luke’s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer.
“but i need to be focused for this. i need….” he let out a deep sigh. “i need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i can’t fuck it up.”
you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.
“you won’t.”
you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadn’t noticed how close you’d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.
“i’ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but —”
luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too.
he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time.
it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on luke’s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more.
he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips.
luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die.
it wouldn’t be a hero’s death, in the traditional sense, but at least he’d die happy.
how many heroes could claim that?
when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away.
you glanced down at luke’s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze.
“just promise me something, tiger,” you whispered, voice hoarse.
“anything.”
“come back alive.”
luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.
“i promise.”
(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)
the nightmares were getting worse.
luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.
“luke.”
your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality.
he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what — who — was going through his head, he would).
“i’m…i’m fine,” he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie.
like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didn’t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat.
your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him.
luke tried to pretend that he didn’t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and father’s praise he once wished for.
what a fucking joke.
every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did.
again: a fucking joke.
nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.
every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it.
of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair.
most of all, you cared about luke.
“you were screaming,” you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates.
“sorry,” he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes.
“it’s fine. you just….you scared me, tiger.”
your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didn’t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes.
for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.
since coming back from his quest, luke didn’t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didn’t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.
luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreams…. luke could change that.
but, at what cost?
(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)
luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldn’t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.
you entered the bathroom and instantly caught luke’s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you.
“what was that about?” luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.
“oh, nothing.” you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. “hey, do you have any extra dental floss?”
luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.
“what happened?”
you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush.
“it’s not a big deal,” you assured. “some ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, so….”
“....you decided to send them to the infirmary.”
you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. “i don’t need you to lecture me about how i shouldn’t be fighting with other campers because i’ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment they’ll get is no dessert for a week.”
luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didn’t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right.
in fact, luke loved that about you.
no, it wasn’t the fighting that luke cared about — it was who you were fighting for.
percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didn’t want you getting attached.
you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.
“i just didn’t realize you cared so much about him.”
“about percy?”
luke could tell that he didn’t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing luke’s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.
“yeah. the kid’s only been at camp for three days, and you’re already acting like his guard dog.”
you finally turned to luke and glared at him.
“maybe. but percy’s sweet and he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. he’s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as i’m concerned, percy’s one of us, and i’m not going to let anyone push him around.”
luke raised an eyebrow at you. “he’s sweet?”
“yeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.”
you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percy’s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said.
satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow.
the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air.
“i wouldn’t say he beat me,” luke huffed. “it was beginner’s luck.”
“sure, tiger. it was beginner’s luck that disarmed the best swordsman we’ve had in the last 300 years.”
you nudged luke’s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch.
“are you trying to make me feel worse?” luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.
“i’m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesn’t make you any less talented. there’s no need to get jealous.”
luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion.
to be clear, he was not jealous. it’s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp.
and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him.
by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment.
you tugged on luke’s sleeve before he could open the door.
“hey. are we okay?”
luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.
he smiled at the memory — a real smile, no plastic — and then smiled back up at you.
“we’re fine, karma.” and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.
“wait.” you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. “there’s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow night—”
“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”
“yeah, i know, it’s just —”
“she’ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.”
“one of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,” you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.
what in the name of hades were you talking about?
“they asked you out? like…like a….” luke didn’t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.
“a date,” you said casually, as if that one word didn’t rip luke’s heart in a million pieces. “i said yes.” an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire.
sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, you’d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.
“but, listen, i wanted to let you know it’s not —”
“good for you,” was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.
(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)
your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god.
he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy.
everything was falling into place.
all luke should be thinking about is kronos’ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.
unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you.
you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphrodite— jordan li.
you hadn’t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that night’s campfire, you didn’t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.
luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles.
and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan li’s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist.
meanwhile, luke had katie gardner’s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into luke’s personal space, definitely flirting with him.
luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey.
the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordan’s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy.
katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.
a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.
“rough night, tiger?” your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you don’t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with luke’s and took a sip.
“looks like you were having a pretty good time,” luke practically sneered. “where’s your date?”
“they went to bed.” you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. “gods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time — we have better taste.”
“so, are you and jordan like a thing now?”
you gave luke a smile he didn’t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. “would that be a problem?”
“of course not.” he answered way too quickly for that to be true.
“let’s get out of here,” you suggested. “i think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.”
luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him.
nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasn’t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it.
“no. i’m good.”
biggest lie he ever said. like there wasn’t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.
“go find jordan,” he taunted. “kiss them, show them a good time! isn’t that the reason why you got all pretty?”
you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.
“look, we haven’t really talked lately, and i think we should.”
“go find jordan,” he mocked once more. “almost all the aphrodite kids are here, and i’m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fu—”
“luke.” you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. “if you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, you’re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i don’t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.”
you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down.
in ways you didn’t realize, you were right: he couldn’t risk revealing it, not now.
not yet.
“do whatever you want, castellan,” you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.“i’m leaving.”
luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog.
luke didn’t know if he’d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more.
“i’m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,” he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.
“gods, enough about jordan!” luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. “i was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!”
“you….” luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. “what?”
luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.
“why…why would you agree to do that?”
you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously.
“jordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.”
“you seemed so…so into it, though,” luke stammered, the memory of you in jordan’s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.
“it’s called acting, dumbass.” the camp didn’t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. “anyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldn’t listen.” you took a deep breath. “and, honestly, i didn’t push it because….i figured i should test a hypothesis.”
a hypothesis? you’d known annabeth for too long.
“what hypothesis?”
you hesitated.
“it doesn’t matter. fuck, this was stupid,” you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and luke’s not far behind.
“what hypothesis?” he asked again.
nothing but rushed footsteps.
“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.
third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.
“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated.
this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. you’d gotten quieter with your rage as you’d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well.
“i’m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. i’m angry at your dad for the way he’s treated you, but — you, luke castellan.” you finally met luke’s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. “i’m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.”
your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.
did you know?
“you haven’t been the same since your quest,” you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. “and i’ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but you….you’ve never tried to ice me out before. you’ve been acting distant since december, and it’s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best …..” you swallowed the word friend. “how much i miss you?”
luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know i’ve been distant, but i’ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe!
would you hate him, if you knew?
you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, he’d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage.
"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and then….” you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasn’t sure.
a smirk spread across luke’s face at the revelation that he hadn’t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything he’s done.
“why do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?”
as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns.
“why do you care if i’m with jordan fucking li?” you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldn’t be you who yielded this fight.
“because i want to be the one you’re with.” at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. “why do you care if i make out with katie gardner?”
“because.” you drew in a sharp breath when luke’s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. “don’t make me say it, tiger.”
the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didn’t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you weren’t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment.
luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.
in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips.
so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.
no, you certainly weren’t a saint — but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.
the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe.
maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.
and yet — maybe wasn’t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldn’t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his.
“wait.”
it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath.
“i promised jordan that we’d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep this…” you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. “a secret until then?”
luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.
(vii. you wouldn’t hesitate to make him bleed)
luke had just left percy jackson to die.
he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time.
the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.
“hey, tiger.” you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. “wanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.”
for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted.
“i don’t have much time.”
you seemed to notice luke’s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor.
luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.
percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyone’s big brother.
you, on the other hand, didn’t express any sense of shock.
“luke.” you said his name like you weren’t quite sure it was poison. “i’m going to give you five seconds to tell me that you’re joking.”
five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.
“i….i should have told you sooner.”
“yeah,” you scoffed. “you should have. but, you didn’t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? it’s fucking delusional.”
“it’s not delusional—”
“yes, it is!” you glared at him. “you’re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.”
luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being.
“isn’t this what you’re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. don’t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?”
“not like this. i can’t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. it’s pathetic,” you spat. “i’m not saying the gods don’t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and glory….it’s sick and twisted, but i don’t think your titan king is any better. i don’t think you are any better.”
“it’s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isn’t perfect,” luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.
luke just needed to convince you.
“we’ve talked about this for years,” he continued. “nothing is balanced! there’s no justice here, for anyone. we can build a better world where we don’t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i love—”
“don’t,” you snapped. “don’t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.” your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. “that dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.”
something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.
“you don’t mean that.”
“i do,” you promised. “at least you would have died with all of us thinking you’re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.”
you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance.
“i’m not going to fight you,” was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor.
in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldn’t think twice about sending to tartarus.
luke didn’t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape.
“please come with me,” he pleaded. you didn’t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice.
a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.
you didn’t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.
a turquoise trident.
“percy told me he was on his way to see you,” you realized. “what did you do?”
luke didn’t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head.
and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percy’s life.
there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.
Read this b4 going to sleep last night, Oh my goodness!!! I'm obsessed w how soft luke is w her, and that specific line abt how he wished wounds made by her wouldn't heal. WOWW!!!
SUM. : You and James are a mismatched couple, coming from two different worlds. When you don't get immediate approval from James' mother, you're forced to face just how different you two are and find yourself trying to pull away from James only to have him pull you back harder.
LENGTH : 16.4k
TAGS : modern au ; muggle au ; fluff ; explicit ; porn with plot ; slight slow burn ; modern high society ; server/waitress reader ; server/waiter remus ; best friend remus ; co-worker remus ; supermodel sirius ; private island get-away ; overprotective euphemia ; slight lily evans slander imsorry! ; slight euphemia slander imsorryagain! ; mutual pining ; engagement ; disapproving mother-in-law trope ; slight wolfstar mentions ; aspiring businesswoman reader ; fluff to angst to smut to fluff again ; rich suitor x poor suitor trope ; arguments ; this was inspired by a dream i had of aaron taylor johnson...
CONTENT WARNING : dubious consent/CNC ; resisting ; dirty filthy talk ; creampies (plural) ; overstimulation ; oral (female receiving) body worship ; praise kink? ; p in v ; forced? ; reader secretly likes it ; animalistic imagery ; rough with sprinkles of softness in between ; multiple orgasms ; dry humping ; finger fucking (female receiving) ; tongue fucking/cunnilingus (female receiving) ; mirror ; soft james turned dark james ; semi-dark!james potter ; pregnation kink/breeding kink ; dom!james ; sub!reader ; unprotected sex ; slight cockwarming?
SHORT VER. (just smut)
“Are they not together anymore?” you whisper to Remus, a dear friend and close colleague, who shrugs and tries to focus back on his duties of attending to guests.
Under the romantic light of the chandeliers, you observe the handsome, upper-class brunette from afar. He was always quite striking and a suit fit him well; his broad shoulders were emphasised, wide and sturdy. It's been over a year, maybe even two years since you’ve last seen the man and his close friend attend such events, which was strange. What was even stranger was that the glasses-wearing hunk wasn’t accompanied by his usual date, a fiery redhead with the beauty of a nymph and glittering emerald eyes.
For many months, you admired the couple and the love that they had for each other. It was clear that the man adored her; he treated her sweetly and was always directing a charming smile at her, his cheeks dimpling most adorably. It had become a common occurrence for Remus to entertain your ramblings for wanting a fairytale romance like theirs, battling between your drive to achieve your dream career and equal desire for meeting the love of your life.
“You need to stop being so nosy,” the tall brunette avoids your question altogether and offers a kind, elegant smile when an attendee of the lavish soiree reaches for a champagne flute on his silver tray. Knowing you all too well, Remus cuts you off just as your lips part to protest — his tone never biting, just stern, “We’re on the clock right now… we can talk later,” you had no argument to go against him with. He was right. Remus was always right. With a nod, you continue to service the attendees of the evening party with finger food and champagne.
Nevertheless, throughout the night, you couldn’t take your eyes away from the once exuberant gentleman, who had captured your eye all those years ago. It was his charm and handsome smile that drew you in the first time, a charm and smile that was once only meant for his redheaded date. But now, your eyes lingered on him for the fact that his visage was absent of all those things — precious things that he looked terribly lonely without.
He stood out as a single, solitary silhouette in a sea of ladies and gentlemen, respectively clothed in grandiose dresses and elegant suits. Glimpses you’ve had of his stare, in passing, confirm your regretful suspicions. His warm, hazel eyes were now stone cold and his face was devoid of his warm smile.
It’s been almost two years already, and yet, he is still grieving the partner he had once attended such high society parties with. But was that really the case? A couple that looked so perfect for each other couldn’t have just split up so frigidly. Perhaps she was sick tonight… or was that wishful thinking on your part? You had romanticised their relationship in your head numerous times so your denial could stem from your want for their love to overcome all obstacles. Because if their bright, warm love couldn’t conquer all, what hope was there for you?...
Unable to shake your thoughts, you request an early break, hoping that Remus can find it in himself to forgive you when he finds out. Usually, the two of you took your breaks together but you were so distracted tonight, that you desperately needed to get away from it all. More so the stranger that you couldn’t get out of your head. Well… he wasn’t much of a stranger, really; you know his name, James Potter.
You know all the guests’ names as it’s required of every hired server, such that impeccable service is delivered every single time. However, you know James Potter in particular; he’s always been an interesting name and he brings about a different energy compared to the many other attendees of the soiree.
Most come from old money, generations of wealth and reputation upholding the many decorated names written in the guest books, the Blacks, the Gaunts, the Abbots, the Ollivanders, the Prewetts and many more. But the Potters were relatively new. It was rare for families built upon new money to be able to mingle with such established households, and the rarity of it encompassed the Potters with a very unique air. They weren’t born into wealth, it was all through the hard work of the Potter’s Patriarch, Fleamont. They weren’t born into such a life but they were definitely made for it; they fit right in but also garnered good attention, they were a new light that attracted the many ancient moths and spiders that were the old money of high society. Hence, try as you might, the Potters, especially James Potter, couldn't leave your mind.
This was unusual for you. Typically, the only thing that occupied your thoughts were your endeavours to achieve your dream career, that was why you took on so many jobs. You have the opening shift tomorrow at another job that you desperately need to make ends meet. The thought of having to wake up early for opening makes you groan aloud. At least you had this job. It was a saving grace, somewhat, because it allowed you to be around so many well-dressed people. Their fashion came from the very best designers out there, all luxury, and that was your dream — to be a part of it all, to dress up in fashionable pieces that were to be worn with elegance and poise, your reputation as an entrepreneur would be on the line but what a reputation it’ll be. Not only that but to have the freedom to do more with your time. You would wake up every morning and comfortably ponder on what you want to do that day. No stress, not angry bosses breathing down your neck, just you.
What a dream…
Regardless, that didn’t take away the fact that you have an early shift tomorrow. You let out another groan and collapsed against the balcony’s stone railing. What a life, forced to suffer before you could make your dreams come true. If you could make your dreams come true…
“That doesn’t sound promising…” a voice pipes up in the silent night, flowing from in between the light of twinkling stars and the pale, observant moon. You jump with a squeal of surprise, the dramatic flailing of your arms drawing out a peel of laughter from the man who was over on the other balcony. The event was hosted on a very architecturally lavish site and there were multiple balconies, some even right next to each other. But out of all the people tonight, to think you would end up eye to eye with James Potter, “sorry for scaring you,” he apologises but the cheeky smile on his lips doesn’t leave, nor does the twinkling mirth in his hazel eyes.
“Uh—” You didn’t know what to say, this was a man you had seen on many occasions, quietly observing him from afar — it felt surreal for him to be addressing you directly, “a-are you talking to me?”
He raises a brow, his look of amusement never leaving his handsome face, a charming curl of his dark hair catching your attention as it rests against his perfect forehead, “ah— no, my apologies. Yes, I’m actually talking to that tree over there,” he briefly points to a fir tree with his chin, which makes you cast a short glance at the towering giant of an evergreen.
Unable to stop yourself, you face him with an unamused frown and a blank stare, which elicits another giggle from the suited man. It was a refreshing sight, especially since he had been looking so depressed the entire night. You know that you should act professional but you liked seeing his smile again.
“Very interesting, I didn’t know trees could talk,” you counter smartly with your arms crossed and a raised brow.
The amusement in his eyes doesn’t leave, it’s quite infectious actually and you’re playing right along with him, “They’re great conversationalists,” without realising, the two of you walk to each other and begin to talk over the two balconies, your smiles never leaving your faces as you become fully immersed in conversation.
“Maybe I should go and find myself a tree friend too,”
“I highly recommend it,”
“Any species in particular?”
“Apple trees are always fun,”
“How so?”
“Well, if you’re nice they let you pick an apple of your choosing, and they’re always very charming,”
“I see, I see,”
The two of you bounce off each other like natural friends, conversing as if you weren’t from two different worlds, sharing laughter and quickly retelling your favourite personal stories to one another.
“You’re too far away,” James complains at one point. It makes you absently lean forward over the balcony rail to help aid his protest.
“Oh? Should I talk louder?” you ask, already speaking in an amplified voice. He doesn’t reply, instead, he moves to stand on top of the balcony railing before leaping over to the balcony you were on, rendering you speechless. You don’t know if you should shout at him for being reckless and endangering his life or cheer at his impressive stunt.
“No need,” James huffs, patting down his suit as he smirks at your shocked expression, “now we can talk more comfortably,”
“I don’t know if I should be impressed or angry at what you just did,” you were breathless despite not being the one to leap across balconies. Laughing aloud, James takes your hand and bends in half to kiss your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours.
“A pleasure to officially meet you, my fair lady,” he greets as a heat crawls up your neck to spread across your cheeks, “my name is James Potter,” you bite your tongue to keep from expressing that you already knew his name and politely reply with your self-introduction, instead.
You were severely reprimanded for going over your allotted break time that evening and you dreaded losing your job if it weren’t for James. Both you and Remus fully anticipated an email or phone call reaching your phone, trying to discuss your termination from the elite servicing company but, instead, you were surprised to receive an enthusiastic call. Your employer raved about your great work and happily dismissed your absence for most of the evening service. When you asked why, he explained everything, from how James Potter had asked you for help and that you went above and beyond to ensure his comfort and enjoyment for the night.
“I should be the one taking you out for coffee, not the other way around,” you laugh, smiling up at James, who grins widely. He isn’t as elegantly dressed as when he’s attending a soiree or gala but you’ll admit that the cable knit jumper and unkempt curls look much better on him. Rosy-cheeked and chap-lipped against the chill winter air, he was the picture of handsome.
“Nonsense, I wanted to get coffee for you,” with his breath visible in the air, he subtly admires you in your layers of clothing. Beside him, you’re bundled up warm and with a fashionable, cashmere scarf to wrap it all together.
“You’re sweet, thank you,”
The sincerity in your voice appears to draw out some of his shame, “I hope you don’t mind me swindling your phone number from your employer…”
He watches you shrug, your chin disappearing behind your scarf as you do so, “I got a free coffee from it so it’s no biggie,” you emphasise the statement by taking a sip of your drink all while squinting your eyes up at him mischievously.
James laughs, his breath materialising in the cold air as puffs of smoke, “you look like a little mouse!” The comment earns him a playful slap on the shoulder and, if it weren’t for his sharp reflexes, he'd have spilled his drink on the floor. He looks at you with playfully narrowed eyes to see that you’re pulling a guilty ‘I didn’t mean to do that’ face. For a moment, the two of you hold tense eye contact over what could’ve happened before erupting into peels of laughter.
It was an unexpected friendship but one that blossomed nonetheless.
With time, it was only natural for you to introduce James and Remus to one another, both being two amazing men in your life. And the meeting couldn’t have gone any more perfectly, they became friends as naturally as you and James did, which you couldn’t be happier about. In return, James introduced you to Sirius, his brother, not by blood, but his brother still. You’ve heard the story already, the vicious media always seemed to know everything, but it felt like an entirely different tale coming from James and Sirius themselves. Especially Sirius; your heart ached for him. It was clear, from the look in your eyes, that your heart broke for James’s pale-skinned, dark-haired, steel-eyed non-blood brother — and just when it seemed as though he couldn’t like you more.
“She was very sweet,” Sirius smiles as James nods enthusiastically. The two had just waved you off when James turned to Sirius for his verdict.
“Right?” James grins widely, “And she’s so easy to talk to,”
“Truly,” Sirius smiles and stuffs his hands into his pockets, “there wasn’t a single colour of judgement in her eyes the entire time we told her everything,” it was rare to find a person like that within their circles, “and she spoke with real sincerity too, she’s one of the good ones,”
“You should meet Remus as well! I’ll ask for him to join the next time we can hang out together,”
When the time came for your two best friends to meet, Remus and Sirius hit it off well, better than you initially expected as they were quite opposite in aesthetics; Sirius in his leather jacket and tattoos, and Remus in his cable knit sweater and faded scars. However, you were still grateful that they came together like coffee and cake. After becoming close friends, the four of you met regularly and even organised weekend getaways as a group. However, over time, those outings have slowly divulged into Sirius and Remus splitting off from you and James. The two planning getaways as a pair, excluding you and James altogether.
“I can’t believe this,” you playfully narrow your eyes at the two, who avoid your gaze to sip at their coffee from across the table.
“Yeah! This started as a group thing, when did it become a pair thing?” James adds with a dramatic swing of his arms as you bite your lower lip to suppress a smirk.
“More like a ‘couple’ thing~” your teasing comment was enough to get the two across the table to blush in embarrassment – caught red-handed in their carnal endeavours. They tried their best to hide it from you and James but they suppose they got reckless, lost in their passions. They were even audacious enough to flirt when attending the same soiree or gala, Sirius as a guest and Remus as a server of champagne and finger foods.
“It’s not like you two are any better!” Sirius accuses with narrowed eyes and pointed an inculpatory finger between you two, “Don’t think we don’t know that you’re also going on ‘couple’ getaways with each other!” he huffs and, this time, it was yours and James’ turn to become bashful.
“Th-that’s—” Remus cuts you off with a smug smile.
“It’s not worth fighting, dove,” your best friend warns, finally draping his arm across Sirius’ shoulders, who immediately leans into his touch, “we’ve known for a while too,”
Your mouth hangs open as your brain staggers to come up with an excuse. But you’re unable to even attempt to object when James sighs and drapes his arm across your shoulders too, turning his face to kiss your temple and whisper against your skin, “It’s best if we drop the act, angel,”
You suppose you were trying to hide your relationship from the wrong people…
With a defeated smile, you shake your head and the four of you laugh at each other, relieved that you could finally stop pretending that there wasn’t anything more between you. But mostly happy that you’re all finding happiness in each other.
James was familiar with the look on your face as soon as he stepped into your flat. You were stressed and on the bridge of a breakdown over whatever you were having to deal with. He knows you’re a hard worker but sometimes you put too much pressure on yourself. You’ve already explained your situation but he still cannot fathom how you were able to continue labouring two jobs whilst faithfully working on your budding entrepreneurship on the side.
Today was supposed to be your day off and yet, James finds you in distress over your growing business. Despite his worry for your wellbeing, he can’t help but admire your perseverance and dedication. Your diligence is a hard trait to come by – it was something he also admired in Li-…
Shaking the thoughts out of his head, James slowly approaches you from the side. He took care not to startle you but you weren’t easily fooled.
“James, you really didn’t have to come,” you knew he had been there ever since he walked through the front door of your flat. In his chest, James’ heart clenched in rejection but he pushed forward with a bright grin. Was it going to be the same as Lily? Again?
“I know but…” he watches as you turn to face him and the bouquet he’s presenting to you in his hands, “I wanted to make sure you were okay and,” he isn’t brave enough to watch your expression, “flowers never hurt…”
“Oh Jamie!” you squeal in delight and James’ eyes snap open, shocked. The honeymoon phase should be over by now so… Weren’t you meant to sigh again and finally shoo him away? He watches as you take the flowers and set them on a nearby table before launching yourself into his arms, “that’s so sweet of you!”
Letting out a relieved laugh, he returns your embrace and his smile finally reaches his eyes, “yeah? You like them?” he notes how you smell better than the flowers when he buries his face in your hair and takes in a long breath.
“They’re beautiful! And so thoughtful,” You attack him with a barrage of kisses, peppering them all over his smiling face. He can’t believe it.
“You really like them?” love swells up in his chest as he watches you nod enthusiastically.
“I can’t believe you would do that for me just because I was upset,”
“Of course, I had to,” he subtly puffs out his chest and leans down to kiss your cheek, “I have to make sure my girl is well taken care of,”
You pout over how precious he’s being and kiss him sweetly, “You’re so good to me,”
With a blush on his cheeks, James continues, “I uh—... I also ordered your favourite takeout, I hope that’s okay?” you answer him with another kiss, this one firm and deep; one that you refuse to end prematurely. With a sigh of contentment, James surrenders himself and places his hands on your waist while he savours the feeling of your fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp at the back of his head. Your other hand grips at his shoulder and you’re slowly pushing him back into your sofa.
So lost in the taste of your lips, James falls back with a silent gasp and watches in amazement as you climb on top of him, wasting no time in continuing with the heated kiss. Slowly his hands trail down from your waist and over the curve of your hips to squeeze at your plush thighs. He groans into the kiss as your softness fills his grip and he can’t get enough of fondling your fleshy thighs. He can’t get enough of you.
All this over flowers and takeout? It wasn’t the disgruntled response he was used to. You didn’t reject his affections and support, you didn’t mistake them as a discredit to your hard work and efforts. Instead, you saw them for what they were, a manifestation of his love and support for you.
He moans your name, the erotic whimper he produces, muffled against your locked lips. And, fuelled by a surge of desperate love and desire, he surges forward to deepen the kiss whilst keeping your lower half in place from where he grips your thighs.
You return the sentiment with an airy, “James~” before your lips are recaptured and your hands grapple for his broad shoulders; they’ve become a reliable foundation for your balance as James takes the lead. He has successfully rid your thoughts of all manner of negativity and stress. He’s your own personal happy pill and you’re an addict ready to take everything he was willing to give and more.
It wasn’t a conscious action, there was no real thought behind it but there was a coordinated effort on both sides that quickly led to you feverishly grinding down on him as his thick cock progressively hardened beneath you. Somewhere in between, the two of you pull apart and pant like laboured dogs with your eyes glued down to your, somewhat, connected sexes.
“Shhh…” James hushes gently, an antithesis to his bruising grip over your left ass cheek, gently guiding your movements as his other hand grips your outer thigh, “Slow down sweetheart,” you want to obey his soft command but–
“You feel so good James~”
“You feel good too, baby but I want to enjoy you properly,” he reasons but you show no sign of stopping your wild grinding, “I said! Slow. Down.” he commands, suddenly releasing his grip and harshly slapping your ass instead, smiling when all movement stops.
In your shocked state, he begins to guide you through slow, rocking motions, pressing your soaked centre against his hard cock through his loose sweatpants. Dressed casually in an oversized shirt and nothing else but underwear, James uses one hand to push your shirt up and reveal the most gloriously erotic sight he’s ever seen. The lips of your ruined, panty-covered pussy lips were moulded around the prominence of his hard cock — your cute pussy was kissing his cock. The salacious sight was enough to make the both of you moan aloud, completely disregarding the wet mess you were making on his sweats.
“Oh God!” your cry was filthy as you leaned back, your hands on James’ thighs propping you up and supporting you from behind.
“You’re so sexy, angel,” James grunts in pleasure, “look at how your pretty pussy lips are clinging onto me through your cute fuckin’ panties,” his words make you even more breathless as a dull pulse starts to resonate from your lower belly. It was a familiar sensation and one that you desperately needed to quench.
“James,” you call, desperation clear in your voice and a sultry look in your eyes as James looks up at you, “James, more~” James smirks and obscene words begin to form on his tongue when—
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
You both snapped your attention to the disruption, tense and wondering who could be at the door, “...I think it’s the delivery guy…” James realises and releases a breath of relief as you’re consumed by giggles. The carnal tension in the air dissipates as you crawl off James’ lap so that he can answer the door, partially hiding his lower half, “Sorry about that,” he laughs under his breath weakly and holds up the takeout bag with an embarrassed smile. It astounds you how quickly he can go from having the filthiest mouth to wearing the most endearing expression you’ve ever seen. It was as if the cause for the high tension between you never occurred and he was your sweet, loving boyfriend once again.
Taking his lead, you help set out some plates and cutlery. You even take the time to place your bouquet in a vase before sitting with him to have a well-deserved meal. It would be a good idea to finally relax and leave your work for another day; there’s no use trying to fix things when you aren’t in the right mindset. What you didn’t expect was a sudden kiss on your temple and a soft whisper to tickle your ear.
“I promise to love you all the way soon enough, sweets,” James vows and smiles at the embarrassed look on your face but also at the soft smile you send his way, “I wanna make sure you’ve eaten well today,”
“Thank you, Jamie,” you kiss his cheek gratefully before returning to your food. The knot in your lower belly had subsided so you could relax a little easier.
“You aren’t mad that I took you away from work, though, right?” there was a slight hint of insecurity in his voice. It was a tone that you weren’t familiar with from him and it made your head tilt in slight confusion.
“Of course not…well, I was a little irritated at first,” you confess, wanting to be honest with him, “but that was just because I was already stressed out and felt like nothing would get better until I solved the problem but…” you slide closer to his side and lean into him with a relieved sigh, “this was what I really needed,”
“I’m glad…”
“Thank you so much James, you’re the sweetest boyfriend I could ever ask for,”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” you don’t miss the beaming grin he gives you. You return one that’s just as bright.
You gasp at your boyfriend’s grand but thoughtful surprise, the affection and gratefulness for his considerate gesture evident in your voice. Turning in your lover’s arms, you wrap your arms around his neck and press a kiss against his smiling lips, “You didn’t have to, darling…” There were tears in your eyes James quickly kisses away. He could tell that they were happy tears but he would take up any and every excuse to kiss you.
The months you spent with James Potter were magical. He was not only the most loving and wonderful boyfriend you had ever had the pleasure of calling yours but also a great partner and advisor in your business endeavours. With his help, you have been able to shift your mindset to one of affluence and positivity. He assisted you with networking and setting up a functional, online business. Without his technical and emotional support, you don’t think you would have achieved half of what you have now. You couldn’t thank him enough; he had given you so much in terms of love and your career aspirations without asking for anything in return. You didn’t even have to ask him; he had fulfilled your two deepest desires with precise balance — to be cherished by your perfect match and to succeed in your own business.
“Of course I did,” he whispers in the most gentle tone, “you deserve it…”
James had seen you work to the bone as an aspiring entrepreneur. He taught you everything he had learned about the business world through his father, and you were more than eager to accept his help - an attitude that was a breath of fresh air. Not only were you a great student, diligently noting down his teachings and taking action immediately to put his methods into practice, but you were a great girlfriend too. You were there for him when he needed emotional support, offering kind words, a listening ear, and everything he could ask for. All he had to do was say the word, and you would do anything in your power to fulfil his request. He had never felt so sincerely loved and appreciated before, especially when you would take the time to invest in him. You weren’t rich like him and his family, but you were generous with your time and spent the majority of it on him every chance you could - perfect, you were perfect.
You’re nothing like Lily. Nothing about you two was the same…
Lily always strived for perfection in herself and in those around her, especially her partner (him at the time). It didn’t bother James much, he fully accepted her terms because she was worth it to him — she deserved only the best and that meant everything from within her environment to him as her boyfriend; everything had to be perfect. Inhumanly so.
He changed himself for her, adopted new mannerisms for her, made sure everything was perfect for her, sacrificed for her, and did everything for her. He didn’t realise it at the time but he was losing himself and it took her hesitation at his proposal for him to finally realise that her desire for perfection was at a level that couldn’t be satisfied. He would never be good enough for her because her standards for everyone, everything and herself were just…impossible.
Looking at you, James came to yet another realisation.
He presses a kiss to your forehead and feels his heart grow lighter at the discovery. Throughout his entire relationship with Lily, she was insistent on being self-sufficient — a truly independent woman who didn’t need a man to fulfil her life goals. That was one of the many things that James admired about her but he could never fully rest comfortably when watching her solitary endeavours from afar. Every time he tried to offer a lending hand or word of advice, she ardently refused him, sometimes even flushing red with anger at his simple suggestions. He knew he could help with her goals but she didn’t want anything from him. She wanted to stand alone and be strong. That was admirable but they were a couple and James wanted to be of help to her, it was his way of showing he loved her dearly but she actively refused that, shutting him down every single time.
It didn’t make him feel good. It felt as though his love wasn’t enough for her, that what he was doing wasn’t good enough. That he wasn’t good enough.
It was never a good feeling…
Now he could fully put into words why he never felt truly content around Lily; she was so insistent on being independent that she pushed him away, pushed away his love for her, his desire to help her and his want to see her succeed, to see her happy.
She never let him.
But you did.
You accepted his love in all its forms, in his light-hearted jokes, his lending hand, his words of wisdom (passed down from his father), his support, his encouraging smiles, and more. His flaws, his vices, his strengths, you accepted all of him, you loved all of him, and he feels his heart swell with deepening affection for you every passing day.
James watches with overflowing fondness as you explore the space he had bought and set up for you; your online brand is steadily growing, thanks to your hard work. Judging from the upward trajectory of sales, you urgently need to upscale everything. Your birthday provides a perfect excuse to give you a head start on that expansion, no strings attached. He can hear your excited murmurs bouncing off the walls, discussing your plans as you envision filling a portion of the space with your workshop, while the remainder goes towards storing your many creations.
So lost in his admiration of you and the satisfaction of his current life standing, James almost topples over when you go running back to him. With a joyful squeal, you leap into his arms and almost send him tumbling back into a wall if it weren’t for his fast reflexes.
"Oh, honey~" James sighs dreamily at being called with such affection. "I love it!" you squeal, your eyes filling with happy tears and turning them into beautiful glass. He could stare into your stunning eyes forever, but the passionate kiss you press onto his lips was admittedly a better pastime. "I love you~" you coo after finally pulling away, still wrapped tightly in his arms.
“That’s all I could ever ask for, sweetheart!” he chuckles against your lips before engaging in another loving kiss.
“You’ve worked so hard~,” James coos, his praise travelling into your ear as you gaze out at the main workshop and storage area. He compels you to look out at your employees; some were working diligently, moving in and out of storage, while others weaved through the machines in your workshop. “That’s all yours, baby~,” he breathes against your neck and sucks on the sensitive skin. “You deserve all of that. I’m so proud of you for making your dreams come true,”
“Th-thank–” you couldn’t speak, it was impossible to with James’ fingers invading the entrance of your pussy and curling deliciously into your most sensitive spots. Your vision blurs with tears of ecstasy and it feels like you’re choking even though James’ spare arm wraps firmly around your middle to keep you in place. Desperate for air, you push your head back and rest against his shoulder, pathetically gasping for oxygen but it’s no use when the rhythm of his pumping fingers gives you no time or room to breathe. It was a blissful torture, however. A type of aching pleasure only James can expertly guide you through.
"You don’t have to say anything, my love," James whispers against the skin of your neck, sucking on the sensitive area beneath your ear before speaking further. "I already know what you want to say," his breath against your bitten ear sends a shiver down your spine and tightens your skin defensively, making you extra sensitive to his touch. "Just don’t stop moaning for me. I want to, at least, hear how well I’m treating you. Aren’t I treating you well, beautiful girl?" he urges, curling his fingers just right to pull an embarrassingly loud moan past your lips. "That’s it. Fuck! You sound so good, baby~"
This didn’t come out of nowhere. James was a passionate person, but he knew where and when it was appropriate to engage in heated activities like this. He loves nothing more than to mould you into a writhing, moaning mess of pleasure. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he gets high off of seeing you reach your peak and knowing that it was all because of him. Typically, he wouldn’t make you come undone in such a public place where you two can easily get caught but your office door was firmly locked, and you were a floor above the staff below so, even though you could easily see them, it would be difficult for them to see you. The main reason James felt the need to stand you in front of your observation window, pull the skirt of your dress up and plunge his long, thick fingers inside you was that you had grown insecure about the stagnation of your business progress.
Just a moment ago, you were on the verge of tears from the stress and self-doubt, divulging your worries to James as you always did in your most vulnerable times. But now you’re crying tears of pleasure and being talked through his perspective of your progress as you stare down at the facility you had built up to.
He wanted to make you feel better. Stagnation was normal. The launch was so successful that the slowing of development appeared too drastic of a change. You needed to look at things from a different perspective and what better way to achieve that than to whisper of that altered standpoint with his fingers driving in and out of your pussy, soaked down to his wrist with your sticky arousal. Naturally, James made sure to weave in a healthy dose of praise in between his insistent assurance of your progress.
You feel your lower belly tense as you gaze at the obscene image of his veiny arm moving up and down, hidden under your dress skirt. His arms were thick, like his fingers, and veiny too. You can almost see the veins in his arms pulsating as they work laboriously to guide you towards a gratifying climax. Every aspect of James was bulky, veiny, and moved in a highly sensual manner. It was only when James took a moment to press the pad of his thumb against your throbbing clit and make a full circular motion that you finally saw stars. You have no recollection of screaming, but James needed to raise his hand to cover your mouth and draw both of you away from the viewing window. That was confirmation enough that you were indeed letting out cries of pleasure.
“Good job, baby,” James coos beside your ear as you lean against him limply. If it weren’t for his hard and strong frame, you would have collapsed to the floor, “My beautiful girl cum so well for me,” his words make your abused pussy pulse, begging for more despite your exhausted state. This man was something else…
Beside your ear, James brings your fingers to his mouth and takes his sweet time slurping and sucking up every last drop of your pleasure from his soaked fingers. He even goes so far as to trail his tongue down to his wrist, tracing the trail of sweet nectar that managed to leak down his hand.
“J-Jamie…” you moan breathlessly, reaching up to caress his cheek and shyly finger his inky locks
“You’ve come so far, my love. All of that hard work has brought you here. Don’t let the deceleration lead to hitting the brakes fully,” he’s so sweet, still trying to comfort you after such a salacious exchange, restraining you with his solid frame, not giving you a chance to protest before he’s relentlessly pistoning his fingers into you and only stopping when he can swallow every drop of your cum from his fingers as you lean against him for support.
Your sweet, loving James… What will you do without him?
"I love you…" You bring his lips to yours and play with his tongue, moaning at the exchange of your taste from his mouth to yours. With his lips against your own, he lovingly whispers the sentiment in return.
“Don’t you taste divine?” he purrs, nuzzling your cheek when he pulls away with a devious grin on his lips. Licking your lips, you return his grin. He’s always right…
A year and some months into your relationship with James, you were finally meeting his parents. Both were very busy people, so you understood the lateness. It would be during their yearly summer getaway to their private island in the Bahamas, a luxurious vacation that you could only dream of affording despite your growing business ventures. You arrived early with James and Sirius, who took their boat out to dock at the island. Sirius went back to wait for James’ parents and voyage them to the island as well, giving you and James enough time to get ready for the introductory dinner tonight.
The small, trusted group of staff welcomed you to the island and helped you and James with your luggage. They informed you that dinner preparations were underway and that it would be around an hour before you could head to the dining room if you wanted to. With a thank you, James dismissed the staff and, together, you unpacked some of your luggage and went about getting ready for the introductory dinner tonight. The log cabin was huge and had several rooms, all of them extravagant and yours was equipped with a small balcony and an incredible view. You wanted to savour more of the space but dinner was fast approaching and you needed to get ready. The entire look you had planned tonight – from the dress to your make-up and heels – was planned and you were ecstatic to put it on. Fashion was one of your many interests and now that you could afford more stylish clothes, you were eager to impress.
Freshly out of the shower and sitting at your vanity, you find that James’ eyes can’t stop glancing at you. His hands seem restless and he can’t decide which shirt to wear. He’s anxious about something, that was clear, and you think you know what it may be. Nevertheless, you gently prompt him for a simple, straightforward answer.
"You're still getting started with that new launch in your business, and I don't want to make you lose momentum," James excused with a sheepish expression, worry swimming deeply within his hazel pools. He had been hesitant to invite you to meet his parents that summer with the excuse of prioritising your business and mental wellbeing.
James can easily tell how stressed you’ve been lately. Trying to push for the upcoming launch, you held a healthy level of anxiety but there was something in his demeanour that made you believe there was a deeper reason for his anxiety. It was easy to guess. James had been honest about the way Lily treated him, making him and his affection feel like an inconvenience. Her productivity and work had been her top priority. And, although that wasn’t a bad thing, in her efforts, she had deeply hurt James. It was to the point where he still hesitates if he feels as though he’s intruding on your business affairs. All you could do for him was be assuring and loving. Bit by bit, he’s become less anxious but the habit isn’t fully gone yet.
"Lose momentum? From meeting your parents?" With a light-hearted chuckle, you place a comforting hand against his cheek and meet his worried gaze with love and reassurance. "James, there’s no way you and your family could ever derail me like that; you were the ones who put me on the tracks in the first place." You share a brief laugh. "And besides, from everything you’ve told me, I know how important they are to you; it would mean the world to finally meet them." He leans into your touch and kisses your palm, muttering his gratitude into your soft skin before you pull away to do a spin, showcasing your attire for the evening. "So, what’s the verdict?"
James laughs and leans forward as he brings your knuckles to his lips. “You always know how to dress beautifully, my love,” you smile brightly. “You look simply ravishing.” A dark look comes over James' eyes and sends a bolt of arousal through you.
Your relationship had been very slow-moving with intimacy. Yes, there have been some grinding and mischievous fingers but never quite all the way. It was primarily because of James’s feelings concerning Lily, his red-headed, emerald-eyed ex-girlfriend. The relationship had torn him down more than he was willing to admit, and it broke your heart to think that someone who was supposed to love him would treat him so poorly. At times, he was a tease and almost slipped too far but reared back as soon as there was a moment of clarity. It’s a past that haunts him for someone who loves with his whole being.
He’s so thankful for you, though; you have allowed him his space and waited patiently. It was easy enough. You had been hard at work launching your business and its subsequent improved products, progressing forward whilst James was slowly easing into taking over his father’s commerce empire; you were both relatively busy with things besides each other.
You like to think that you have a good balance between intimacy with each other and work, though you are beginning to ache for more than just his fingers and thighs. The idea of reaching that final point ignited a strong desire within you, shooting a thrill through your nerves. It was a torment to which you had grown accustomed. The images of everything you had allowed James to do to you haunted your mind as his teasing voice whispered in your ear–
You quickly pushed aside those thoughts; tonight you were having a civilised dinner with his parents.
“Then let’s hurry,” you grab your complimentary handbag and loop your arm through his as you move to the dining area together.
୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧
You smooth down the front of your dress for the third time, your fingers lingering on the soft fabric. You’d spent hours deciding what to wear—carefully choosing something elegant but understated. After all, this would be your first time meeting James’ parents and you didn’t want to shamefully overshadow the Potter family matriarch, Euphemia Potter. James expressed that you had nothing to worry about as his parents always prioritised his happiness in spite of societal expectations. Nevertheless, you wanted the couple’s approval, knowing that James’ family meant the world to him.
When you and James step down the expansive log cabin’s grand staircase and enter the dining room, you’re immediately greeted by Fleamont, James’ father. His warm smile reaches his eyes, and the tension in your shoulders eases just a little. "Ah, James!” the two share a hug that all men typically default to exchanging, however, James keeps his hand on your hip the entire time – he’s worried about not making you feel left out, ever the sweetheart. “And you must be the lovely lady we’ve heard so much about," Fleamont says kindly, his hand outstretched in warm welcome and you introduce yourself. You offer a genuine smile, relieved by his amiable reception.
But before you can fully relax, you notice Euphemia standing just a few steps behind her husband. Her sharp gaze sweeps over you like she’s assessing every inch of your appearance, and you instinctively shift under her scrutiny. Her coldness was such a contrast to Fleamont’s earnest air that you quickly froze up under her scrutiny, a wave of goosebumps flushing over your exposed arms as frostbite shoots down your spine, stiffening your posture uncomfortably.
“Well,” Euphemia starts, her voice cool but laced with an almost imperceptible edge, “you certainly…tried. I suppose there’s something to be said for effort but I suppose my expectations of your understanding of how to dress was much too high,” Her eyes linger on the neckline of your dress, and suddenly, it feels like you’re wearing a burlap sack instead of the stylish gown you’d ceaselessly agonized over.
You feel your heart drop, your confident walls collapsing to the floor and allowing insecurity to creep in. It’s like a storm cloud blotting out the sun, its opaque body not allowing a single ray to pass through.
“Mother please!” James can’t believe his mother’s hostile demeanour. She was never like this with Lily and you’re a far more perfect match to him than she ever will. Fleamont takes charge before a heated quarrel breaks out, reminding everyone of the dinner prepared by the staff and Sirius who awaited them in the dining room.
What was once a confident smile now feels plastered on, your posture becoming rigid as you follow James and his parents to the dining room, where you find Sirius already seated at the table. Euphemia's judging voice echoes in your head, her disapproval poisoning your once optimistic thoughts, the stain of self-doubt spreading rapidly.
Sirius stands from his seat and greets you and James with a warm hug. He can immediately sense the shift in your demeanour and bites back a frown. Through his relationship with Remus, he’s become incredibly fond of you and has seen the positive impact you’ve had on James – his brother in all but blood. Without you, Sirius can’t fathom where James would be at this point in time; Lily’s constant rejection of his devotion and breaking down of his identity had James feeling lost for a very long time, longer than it should have been. Sirius hated seeing James like that. But then you came along and, just like magic, James was back to his old self again. You happily accept his affection and appreciate him as a whole. It was only natural that James had grown addicted to you and was already speaking of marriage despite not being with you as long as he had been with Lily.
On the boat ride here, Euphemia had made it clear how she saw you as another Lily Evans and her fear of losing her beloved son was making her act out harshly. Sirius had tried defending your honour but it was like talking to a brick wall. Fleamont was eager to see the girl that had brought his son joy again but Euphemia wasn’t so eager. He should have talked to James about this before you came down for dinner.
“The food’s all ready and I’m starved. Let’s eat!” Sirius cheers, keen on diverting everyone’s attention and centralising their focus just to keep a momentary peace. However, a mother’s love, especially when turned toxic, is hard to quell.
Throughout dinner, Euphemia’s comments continue, each one a little more pointed than the last. “It must be hard… trying to keep up with James' lifestyle. I imagine it’s quite the leap from what you’re used to.”
You swallow hard and force a polite smile, your appetite is completely gone so you don’t understand how you’re able to continue eating, “I’m managing well, thank you,” you try to keep your voice even and neutral, keeping a strong front but the words don’t come out as confidently as you’d hoped.
James stiffens at your side, his jaw clenching into a sharp square as heated frustration builds within him, strong enough that you can feel the heat radiating from his skin. He turns toward his mother, his teeth bared and his tongue ready to lash out. The woman sitting beside his father was not his mother. He only ever knew his mother to be kind and understanding and warm, not this! The wretched imposter had no right to speak to you so harshly, not on his watch. However, before he could utter a single syllable, you had reached out to gently touch his knee beneath the table. “It’s fine, love,” you whisper gently despite your painfully aching heart. “It’s not worth making a scene. Not here.”
James looks at you, his apology written into his handsome features, and leans in to whisper, "I'm sorry. I don’t know why she’s acting like this. She… she’ll come around, I promise."
You offer a soft smile, but it feels like a lie. Because every word Euphemia throws at you chips away at your resolve and makes you feel smaller. The more time stretches on, the less worthy you feel of your place at this table, less worthy of being the woman who stands beside James Potter. Across the table, Fleamont and Sirius exchange uncomfortable glances, clearly aware of the tension but unsure of how to intervene. Sirius shifts in his seat, looking like he wants to say something but thinking better of it. You can see the sympathy in their eyes, but it’s not enough to drown out Euphemia’s judgment.
“James has always had such high standards,” Euphemia continues, her tone cutting. “It’s just… surprising to see him settle for someone so… ambitious but inexperienced.”
That’s the last straw. You feel the air tighten in your lungs, and before you know it, the sound of your chair scraping back cuts through the tense atmosphere. “Please excuse me,” you mutter, blinking away the sting of tears as you turn to walk away.
This was too much…
You don’t belong here.
You don’t belong with James.
She’s right.
You need to leave
“Wait—” James reaches for your hand, but you pull away, shaking your head. You can’t stay here a second longer. Not when every part of you feels raw, exposed, and judged for the things you can’t control. You don’t even remember how you make it back to your shared room but the next thing you know, you’re frantically packing your belongings with trembling hands. It makes the tasks so much harder to execute but you push through. Even when the tears begin to pour down your face and your vision blurs, you’re determined to escape this claustrophobic place despite your love being at the heart of it all. You don’t want to leave, you don’t want to hurt James, but you can’t take another moment being under Euphemia’s critical gaze. It feels too much like drowning. James is air but you don’t have the right to have him anymore… This is for the best.
Getting off this island was your only concern now. Outside, the sky has darkened, matching the tempest of emotions swirling inside you. It was thankful that you managed to slip out of the log cabin without James catching you; you definitely would have caved in if he did. You would have been convinced to stay just by looking into his eyes. Your resolve is still too weak right now. Getting away will help harden your decision – it’ll be for James’ sake so you have to hurry away quickly. The storm begins to rage as you make it down the path to the docks. The rain pelts down in sheets and soaks you through completely, but you don’t care. You just need to get away. Far away from the crushing weight of Euphemia’s disapproval and James, sweet, loving, handsome James who was no longer yours.
୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧
Just as you hurry away, James launches out of his seat and, storms to the other side of the dining room where Euphemia sits, unbothered. “What the hell was that?!” he demands, his voice trembling with an anger that is strong enough to make his limbs shake as well.
“James,” she starts, but he doesn’t let her finish. His question was rhetorical; how dare she even try to put into words what she had done to you?!
“No, you don’t get to do this. Why were you so nasty towards her?! She didn’t do anything to deserve such treatment! You weren’t like this when I introduced Lily to you!”
“And look where that got you!” Euphemia defends, “For over a year, you no longer felt like my son! You were gone! Lost! I wasn’t going to let another ambitious girl treat you horribly only to leave once she was done with you, again!”
“She’s nothing like Lily!” James’ voice rises and Sirius flinches slightly at the volume; he’s never seen James this infuriated before. He didn’t even know he was capable of expressing fury quite like this, “She’s not going to leave me like Lily did. She’s different! She makes me happy, isn’t that what you’ve always wanted for me? Everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman, I see it in her. She can’t even compare to Lily! Lily is nothing to her! She’s better! She’s perfect.”
Euphemia's eyes widen ever so slightly, her face pale as the realisation hits. She thought she was protecting him—protecting him from another devastating heartbreak like the one Lily had left him with. But all she’s done is drive away the one person who makes her son happy. She doesn’t know what to say and stammers in her inability to come up with the right words, guilt slowly spreading across her features.
James can’t bring himself to continue looking at his mother and turns on his heel. “I need to talk to her…”
୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧
You walk through the storm, barely able to see more than a few feet in front of you as the wind lashes your soaked clothes against your skin. The path is rough, and the rain feels relentless, stinging your face as it mixes with the tears you’ve been holding back. You just keep walking, unsure of where you’re going—only knowing you need to get away.
After what feels like hours of battling against the wind and rain, you spot something through the haze. Squinting through the downpour, you make out the shape of a small cabin perched near the rocky coastline. It looks old, weathered by the elements, but right now, it’s your only refuge. You make a dash for it, slipping slightly on the wet ground, but you manage to reach the door. It creaks open with some effort, and you step inside, trembling and soaked to the bone.
The cabin is small and bare, but at least it's dry. You find a few old blankets and wrap yourself in them, shivering as you curl up in a corner, trying to ignore the cold that seeps into your bones. As the storm rages outside, your mind spins with thoughts of the night—of Euphemia’s judgmental eyes, of James’ helplessness, of the fact that you left him behind.
You feel guilty for running, but you can’t stay. Not when it felt like every breath you took at that dinner table was judged.
୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧
James is beside himself with worry, you’re not in the room. You’re not in the conservatory, you’re not in the bathroom, you’re not in the kitchen, you’re not in the wine cellar, you’re not in the game’s room, you're not in the back garden area – you’re nowhere! At that point, he had no choice but to go outside in search of you. He and Sirius had searched everywhere they could before the storm became too dangerous but still, nothing. The rain was falling too hard, the wind too fierce.
Eventually, they had no choice but to call off the search until morning, though James had fought it every step of the way. Something broke inside him at the thought that you were outside on your own and in such a vicious storm too. You couldn’t have possibly thought that it was a good idea to power the boat and ride back to the mainland on your own with the storm, did you? Sirius had taught you the basics of stirring and handling the boat on the ride here but that it wasn’t extensive and only for beginners, you couldn’t have picked anything up after that one lesson! And it’s too dangerous with the weather!
Now, he paces restlessly in front of the fireplace, the storm outside roaring as fiercely as the panic in his chest and the anxious thoughts in his head. Sirius sits nearby, quiet but equally concerned, casting glances at his best friend-turned-brother – he should have done more. Fleamont is in the corner, speaking in low tones with the small selection of staff, while Euphemia stands at the window, staring into the storm with a hollow look on her face.
“She’s out there because of you,” James snaps suddenly, his voice cutting through the tense silence. Euphemia flinches but says nothing. He’s right, after all. Everything she did, every biting word and critical glance she threw at you, had driven you away.
“James…” Sirius starts, trying to calm him down, but James shakes his head.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” He scrubs a hand over his face, eyes dark with worry and breath shallow with fear. “What if she’s hurt? What if she—” His voice breaks off, and Sirius stands to grip his shoulder, offering comfort and reassurance, a lifeline to solid ground as he tries to traverse the assaulting sea of apprehension he was drowning in.
“She’ll be fine,” Sirius says, his voice steady even though worry is also etched into his features. “We’ll find her in the morning.”
But morning feels like a lifetime away. All James can think about is you out there, alone and possibly scared, with no idea if you’ve found shelter or if you’ve been swept up by the viscous sea lapping at the island’s sandy perimeter. He doesn’t sleep that night, his eyes fixed on the window from his perch on the bed, watching the storm that keeps him from searching for you.
Euphemia lingers at the doorway, guilt weighing heavily on her and showing on her countenance. She didn’t mean for things to go this far. All she ever wanted was to protect her son, to keep him from getting hurt again. But now, seeing him like this—broken and desperate—it’s clear that she’s the one who’s hurt him. And she’s hurt you in the process. She wasn’t being strong for her son, she was the weakest she had ever been that night by allowing her biases to control her actions. Ashamed, she silently leaves and finds solace in her husband’s arms as guilty tears prick her eyes.
As the night drags on, James barely moves from his spot. He doesn’t eat, doesn’t speak, doesn’t move an inch. He just waits, heart pounding in his ears, almost louder than the storm as he prays for your safety.
In a small, secluded cabin, you curl up tighter under the blankets and listen to the storm batter the walls outside. It’s terrifying being out here alone, but the thought of going back to James and his judging mother feels just as frightening. Thankfully you happened upon this small, isolated shelter through the storm. It was a miracle. It felt as though the vicious winds were after you, ready to push you into the ferocious and hungry ocean, vulnerable to its harsh waters. It had been successful in sweeping away your packed luggage when you saw an oddness in the trees lining the edge of the path down to the docking area.
The was fitted with all the amenities and with a wardrobe full of musty but clean clothes so you easily clean up and change into a man’s white button-up before collapsing on the sofa in front of the fireplace that your limbs were too heavy to light.
You close your eyes, trying to block out everything but the sound of the rain, hoping sleep will come. Thankfully, the living room was much quieter because the bedrooms on either side buffered the harsh sounds. But, like James, you find no rest that night, haunted by the events of the evening and the storm that rages on. At least the distance has given you adequate time to think. Euphemia was right; you were being selfish by staying with James. He deserved someone better, someone worthy enough to, at least, have his mother’s approval. Your business wasn’t even that spectacular when compared to the empire his father had built.
Even though it breaks your heart, today will mark the end of your relationship with James. You’re doing this for his sake. It’s for his betterment.
୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧
James doesn’t sleep a single wink. He keeps a close eye on the window, observing the storm as it throws about the trees and ocean outside. His heart thunders in his chest deafeningly, trying to entice him into stepping outside by masking the real storm beyond the log cabin and making it seem less dangerous. It took everything in him to resist — he isn’t any use to you if he gets swept up by the storm.
Time crawls by agonisingly slow, it’s a miserable torture that has James entertaining his internal battles in an attempt to make time move faster. It isn’t until two in the morning that James wills himself into action. He reaches for the high-power torch he had used in the earlier search for you. The storm was finally settled enough for him to go searching through without risking his safety. It’s safe enough right now and he wasn’t about to wait around until morning to know if you’re safe or not.
James was in such a hurry that he didn’t bother putting on a raincoat, he didn’t care that his shirt was immediately soaked through the instant he stepped outside and began searching for you. Following the path down to the docking area, he catches a glimpse of the docked boat battling against the raging waves under the light of his torch. The violent movement of the waves and the thrashing boat makes the breath in James’ throat turn icy and still. Were you on the boat? He hopes to god you’re not… Just the idea of you being in any kind of danger makes him want to set the world ablaze. Anything! He’ll do anything to make sure you’re safe.
Caught up in the storm of his anxieties and trepidation, he almost misses the sight of your rich, brown luggage as its battered shape lays against a familiar tree. Stepping forward, James is filled with memories of a small cabin by the coast but safely behind the tree line that he and Sirius occupied every summer, away from his parents at the larger log cabin. Every day they would wake up and take a swim just as the sun was rising before hopping on their jet skis and racing against each other around the island’s coastline. It was a haven for him and Sirius on their yearly summer excursions, filled with happy memories and shared laughter. James looks down the beaten path with hope filtering into his eyes. He takes one step forward then another and another, more, until he’s sprinting down the path, through the trees and towards a familiar log cabin built for two.
Please be inside!
୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧
You wake up with a start to see the room drenched in a warm glow, the sight immediately making you stand from the sofa you had fallen asleep on. You didn’t light the fireplace last night… you were too exhausted to. It was thanks to the heat of the fire that you no longer needed to be bundled up in the blanket despite only wearing a white button-up and your panties. At the very least, your arms were free to move about without restrictions if you needed to fight back an intruder.
“Love,” a familiar, warm voice calls in a whisper beside you.
“James!” you gasp in shock when you see him standing before you, coming out of the bedroom shirtless with one of the spare shirts from the wardrobe in his hand and wet hair. Did he try finding you in the storm? The thought warmed your heart but your firm decision to leave him frosted over all warmth, leaving your chest hollow. Just as quickly as James saw your beautiful smile pull at your lips, your expression was disciplined into something cold and neutral.
“I’m so glad you’re safe—” he tries to approach you with open arms and a relieved smile but you back away quickly, your hands pushed out as if to push him away.
“No!”
“...No?”
“You shouldn’t be here, James. You shouldn’t have come looking for me!”
“And why not?” a familiar feeling comes creeping into James’ anxiously beating heart. He knows this suffocating atmosphere, he knows it too well. But that was only around Lily… never you. He loves you to the ends of the earth and he knows you love him just as much in return. Is that why the realisation hurts him more than it has ever hurt him with Lily?
“It’s not safe out in the storm–”
“I had to look for you! I was so scared that you were in some kind of danger and needed help!”
“WeShouldn’tBeTogetherAnymore!” you don’t meet his eyes despite shouting with such conviction. You don’t think you could have said it any other way. Blurting out the words frantically was easier than saying every syllable clearly.
James doesn’t know what to say. At that moment, it hurt too much to look at him so you don’t see the way his face grew cold and his eyes became consumed by a darkness that wasn’t characteristic of him, “Your mother’s right… we don’t belong together.”
The world spirals around James. This can’t be happening. You weren’t Lily. You can’t break his heart like this – you aren’t the type. You promised to be his forever and he promised to forever be with you— was there someone else? This can’t just be because of his mother! You’re his perfect match, there’s no way you would deny that, you always said you love him back. This is all a lie. James isn’t going to accept this!
“You don’t mean that, love,” James coos gently, not wanting to believe your words himself and approaches steadily like a crawling predator waiting to strike.
“Y-yes I do!” You see his slow approach and try to maintain the distance between you but you can only move back so far before you’re pressed up against the wall. Seeing the opportunity, James raises arms and presses his palms on the wall beside your head, trapping you in place. Despite the proximity, you don’t meet his eyes.
“We don’t belong together…you deserve someone better. I can’t be with you anymore, we’re not a good match,” you sniffle and James resists the urge to kiss your tears away. Beside your head, his hands clench into fists against the wooden walls.
“Say it to my face then, look into my eyes and tell me you don’t love me anymore — that you don’t want me anymore,”
“James…” You muster up the courage but your voice still comes out, somewhat, shaky, “I-I don’t want to be with you anymore,” his expression remains steely and cold, the fierce glint of resolve in his eyes, unrelenting, “I don’t love you anymore…”
“I don’t, at least, make you feel good?”
“No.”
He doesn’t respond, instead, he keeps you pressed against the wall and manoeuvres his face to rest beside your ear, his husky voice weakening your knees “Are you sure about that?” he snakes his hands around your waist to press his fingers into your lower back. Under his touch, you suppress a whimper of relief as his massaging motions ease some strain in your back.
“James, stop it,” you huff, trying to push him away but you barely find the strength in yourself to shove him off with force. The love you have for him still lingers inside you, burrowed deep in your heart with no intent of leaving despite your earlier resolution.
“No,” his fingers continue to massage your lower back as his lips begin to press a trail of kisses down your neck, “I don’t believe you,” he insists, “I can see it in your eyes,” he bares his teeth against the junction of your neck and shoulder, and draws a squeal from your parted lips, “You love me! You never stopped! And I’m the only one who can make you feel good!”
“No!”
“‘No’, you never stopped? ‘No’ no one makes you feel as good as me?” you can feel his naked chest pressing down against yours through the thin button-up, vibrating as he chuckles darkly. His hands start roaming your body, teasingly brushing against the sides of your breasts and tracing the curves of your silhouette. He loves your body. You’re the most beautiful woman he has ever had the honour of touching and kissing — his treasure.
“Nooo!” you whine once more, not giving him a straight answer and succumbing to his familiar, fondling hands. He loves that you’re wearing his old shirt; not only do you look delectable in it but a surge of possessiveness washes over him at how small you appear. And the fact that you were allowing him to fondle you with your soft skin, pouty lips and pretty, tearful eyes, turns him on so much.
Everything about you was a turn-on for him. James doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard before, it was almost painful still being in the confines of his trousers. But he wouldn’t dare waste time on frivolous things like that, hearing your soft, gasps and delicate moans spur him on to continue pulling moan after moan from your sweet lips. Lips that he had been neglecting to kiss and immediately moved up to capture in a heated tango.
Time blurs along with the scene around you, all your mind can seem to comprehend is James’ weight pressing your back against the wall as his caressing hands map a dangerous path along your skin, getting closer and closer to your intimate areas — your nipples were already hard as rocks, attempting to poke through his thin button up as your panties were practically soaked through by your arousal.
Your resolve to keep your distance and do what was best for him was close to gone, wiped from all areas of your mind so that the only thing left was a growing want for pleasure. A pleasure that only James could give. Mind numb, you had no strength to do anything except whimper and moan against his broad shoulder until he suddenly cups your right breast and uses his pointer finger to play with your hardened nipple through the fabric.
“J-James!” you gasp, pulling away from his lips and ignoring the string of saliva connecting your lips to press against his shoulder with your shaking palms. Your resolve returns and the tug of war between your desires and reluctant refusal of his touch continues, “Ahhhh~ stop it~” he doesn’t stop, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, “please…” you beg pathetically, the tone of your voice unclear. His hands, his lips and his touch were making you feel hot, and the beginning of a tight knot was forming in the depths of your lower abdomen — it was becoming harder and harder to resist him.
While you’re distracted by the hand he has fondling your breast, James creeps his other hand up your inner thigh and edges your panties aside with a finger. He can see the realisation in your eyes when his finger brushes shyly against your clit. But he gives you no time to react and plunges his two fingers into your heat without warning. It was an easy entrance because you were so wet and hot and eager. And as James groans at the thought of his cock replacing his fingers inside you, his feverish probing against your inner walls shatters the last remaining strength in your knees.
Your upper teeth bite down on your bottom lip, trapping the moans in your throat and keeping them from spilling. However, just as James pushes his fingers inside you, he’s pulling them out again. Soaked all the way down to his knuckles. He raises his two fingers to his lips and sucks them clean of your juices with a resounding groan as if he’s sampled the most flavourful dish he’s ever had.
“Your mouth likes to lie, it’s great at lying apparently,” he snarls, the accusation and harsh tone making you whimper and your heart sinks from guilt. As always, he can see right through you. You don’t really want to leave James, he’s been the perfect boyfriend and you want to be with him forever… “so I’ll only trust what your pretty pussy lips have to say instead…” he licks his lips and stares into your eyes darkly, but rather than feel fear at his unusually impious stare, an arousing thrill flourishes in your stomach and raises the goosebumps on your upper arms, “it doesn’t taste like you don’t love me anymore,” a devilish grin stretches across his lips, his eyes never leaving yours, “you taste like you finally want me to love you all the way,”
“No, I don’t,” your retaliating statement comes too firmly and too quickly for James to not heat up in anger. Where had your previous meekness and slow build-up to acceptance gone? It can’t just vanish; it’s still there…somewhere, he just needs to coax it out of you again!
With a rumbling growl from the back of his throat, he lifts you to hang off his shoulder without any care and takes a handful of long strides to his designated bedroom at the small cabin. He kneels down before throwing you onto the bed so that you fall back with just enough force and care to know that, despite his anger, he still loves you deeply.
The strength behind his action leaves you shocked and vulnerable for a few moments but that’s all James needs. Gripping your thighs, he hoists your lower half up and rests the back of your upper thighs on his shoulders so he could devour your pussy shamelessly.
Crying aloud, you arch your back and thrash against him. Your hands grip his soft, untamed curls and delude yourself into believing that you are actively resisting him, trying to push away his head from in between your thighs. However, in the position James has—lifted high with your abdomen pressed down by a hand and securing your lower back against his chest—it’s too difficult for you to push him away. You’re at his complete mercy. He kneels on the bed with his chin tucked into his collar, plunging his tongue in and out of your pussy, his nose stimulating your clit as he laps up as much of your juices as he possibly could. Beneath him, you’re floundering, half lifted into the air with only your shoulders, head and neck still on the bed.
“James! Ahhhh!” You squeal in pleasure when he raises a hand to finger at your clit as his chin tilts up and his tongue curls deliciously inside you. He’s driving you closer and closer to the edge!
Your once sweet James was gone. His loving and goofy self was lost to the lust-hungry man with his head buried between your thighs. He’s determined to unravel you at the seams with only the methodical writhing of his tongue and the stimulation of your sensitive clit.
And, unravel, you did.
It was a searing white, hot and euphoric, sensation. Your erotic scream upon release was never registered by your ears as you were too consumed by rolling waves of ecstasy. The storm outside no longer existed. The rest of the world had disappeared too. It was only you and James and the bed.
You don’t know how long it took you to finally catch your breath and focus your vision but when you did, James had pulled off your panties completely and was leaning over you, trying to hurriedly unbutton your– his shirt, desperate to see more of your skin. Without your panties, you’re naked underneath it and he needed to see you with nothing on.
Quickly becoming impatient, James grips at the two halves of his button-up and savagely rips them apart as you gasp at the brute force he’s capable of exerting. But the instant his eyes fall upon your naked skin, his brutishness disappears entirely. His hazel eyes visibly soften and his fingers shyly drift over the skin of your stomach, delicate and caring, as if you were made of glass and he was afraid of breaking you. The loving, sweet James you knew was back. Though you were also getting quickly accustomed to his more savage side.
“You’re so beautiful…” he whispers in awe and a surge of love tumbles over you, spurred by the admiration and worship in his pretty hazel eyes. The man before you was still your sweet and loving James, charming, kind and oh so loveable. It made tears fill your eyes. How did the two of you end up like this? With you refusing his love when you know that, deep down, that was all you ever wanted… forget your entrepreneurial dreams, James was it for you as much as you know you’re it for him.
James didn’t allow you to contemplate your situation for very long as he was swiftly trailing delicate kisses up your torso and to your breasts. He eagerly sucks on your nipple, his hands placing themselves on your hips, pressing down – an anchor – and caressing your soft skin with his thumb. His tongue and teeth on your nipple pull endless streams of delicate whimpers and airy sighs from your lips, and he relishes every single one.
You can see it in his hazel eyes, how much he adores it when your whimpers tremble and when your sighs raise a little higher in pitch. It compels you to keep vocalising your pleasure despite your mind arguing against you. You need to be stronger than this, you needed to resist him…he deserved better than you, he deserves greater happiness and he couldn’t have that if you were the one selfishly standing by his side, there’s a better match for him out there– but ohh~ he makes you feel sooo goood…
Finally, he pulls away. You watch a strand of saliva connecting your nipple to his tongue slowly stretch and break off when he towers over your frame. His knees lock you in where he straddles your plush thighs and his back elongates to stretch his domineering figure taller, accentuating the ridges and lines of his toned abdomen.
“You love me,” his voice is firm, trying to sway your decision and reel you back to him.
“N-no…” You shake your head and your voice trembles with the lie. Your attempt to continue denying the obvious was pitiful and disappointing to the man before you. He clicks his tongue at your stubborn resistance but his gaze immediately softens at the sight of tears collecting at your waterline. With eyes like glass, the windows to your soul, James is reminded of why you were being so stubborn in the first place.
It’s because he’s right. You do love him…and it’s because you love him that you will continue to resist. But it’s because you love him that he will continue to resist also.
“I love you…” His soft gaze and loving words strip away all your defences. Your forged hatred and rejection disappear into nothing.
You don’t say anything. You can’t because how could you? After everything. After all your stupid decisions and flagrant exploitation of his trust, how could you ever return those same beautiful and affectionate words? Even if you mean every single one? You’re the selfish one here! His mother is right about him deserving better! Why can’t he see that?!
To avoid his stare, you turn your face away and cover your eyes with your arm. Silence fills the room, and there’s a pause in all activity. All you want to do is escape the situation, denying ever being in such circumstances by rendering yourself incapable of seeing anything but darkness – the shadow of your arm, your only shield against James’s persistent call for you to return to him, to admit loving him back.
The silence lingers and is eventually broken by the sound of a belt being unbuckled followed by the shifting of fabric and a heart-thundering zzzzzzzzip….
Unveiling your eyes, you’re left speechless and blinking in shock at the sight of James taking off his pants and briefs. Unaffected by your frantic scramble, he stares down at you wordlessly.
“James!…” he doesn’t answer your call.
You gasp, beginning to crawl backwards when he leans over you with his hard and angry erection in full view. In your peripheral, his length twitches and when you bend your knee to plant your feet on the bed and propel yourself backwards, your thigh comes so close to his hardness that you can feel the burning heat radiating from its stiff length.
“I’m going to show you how much I love you,” he finally says, “I’m going to fill you up over and over again, and I’m not going to stop until I know that you finally understand how much you mean to me,” he grabs your ankle and yanks you back down to him, your ass almost slipping off the edge of the bed, “understand how much I love you,” he trails a feathery touch up your thigh as he pushes them apart, “understand how I can’t live without you anymore and how desperately I want a future with you…”
He raises your right leg and rests your heel against his shoulder, turning his face to kiss your ankle sweetly. His other hand grips your other thigh and anchors it to his waist, prompting your leg to wrap around him. “You’ll let me do it, won’t you?” He meets your eyes, “I know you love me, after all… isn’t that right?”
“...no….” You protest one last time but it’s so quiet, so demure and so lacking in strength that James searches your eyes for the real answer. As much as you know you have to resist him and deny his advances for his own betterment, you silently plead for his love. Your tearful eyes beg him to do whatever he wants and to give you his everything. You want him to love you all the way, like he always said he would despite his reluctance to love wholly once more after Lily Evans. What rotten timing. The time he’s finally willing to become yours and vice versa officially, his overprotective mother scares you away.
“Speak up, love,” he urges despite knowing everything he needs to know only through the look in your eyes. You feel him lube up the head of his cock with your juices, letting out a shaky breath as he does so before finally lining himself up with your entrance.
“No,” You voice a little louder.
“No?” He bucks against your entrance with a hiss and you bite back a moan.
“N-no…” he laughs at your pathetic whimper, the sound of which makes your lower belly clench around nothing. It was so sadistic and demeaning —you didn’t know that he could ever be like this, let alone make you feel this way.
“Then—!” You both gasp when the swollen head of his cock breaks through your tight entrance, “then I’ll just—“ he continues to push forward, enjoying the view of your trembling form under him. He almost coos at how your small hands shakily grip the sheets, “—take you,” he exhales slowly after successfully burying himself inside you, he leans down to whisper inches away from your face, “I’ll just take you as I please,”
The brutal pace he sets from the start unhinges your jaw to let out a silent scream of pleasure. He had eaten you out so well that there was no pain, just a lingering ache after every punishing thrust, which only added to the pleasure. His rhythm steals your breath but doesn’t stop you from moaning erotically with your head thrown back in pleasure.
“Oh, James! Ahhh!” You sob and stare up at him pleadingly, not knowing exactly what you were begging for anymore, “J-Jamie~…!” Above you, James groans at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue — only you could make his name sound oh so sweet~
“That’s it, love,” he smiles down wickedly, “that’s a good girl~” your back arches at his praise, which pushes your hips against him and catches the head of his cock against your walls at a different angle, pulling a squeal from your bitten lips.
“Oh~” he coos, leaning forward to grip your hips as he lets go of your legs, “you like that spot, do you?” He holds your hips in place, marking the angle that gave you the most pleasure and proceeds to abuse your weakness viciously, his punishing thrusts unrelenting.
“O-ohh God! Ahhh!”
“You don’t love me?” He challenges in between pants, groaning as your velvet walls throb and flutter around his stiff length, “LIES!” He snaps, suddenly pulling out of you so he could flip you over and take you from behind, “You’re a fucking liar!”
Your front half collapses from the pleasure and James is left to hold your hips up himself, “I-I’m not,” you sob into the sheets, the tears in your eyes spilling past your waterline and getting soaked up by the soft linen.
“Then WHY are you so WET, love?” He growls into your hair, having leant over to press his torso against your arched back and bury his face into the back of your head, his mouth angled to your ear so that his breath tickles your skin at every word. Both of you groan in unison as the position makes him reach impossibly deep inside you, “WHY do you keep clenching around me like — oh fuck— like you want to drain my balls dry?”
“Ahhh! James!” he speeds up suddenly and you can barely keep up with your breathing.
“And WHY are you pushing your hips back for me? Hm? You want me in deep, do you?” your gasp of realisation is disguised by your surprised squeal when his large hand comes down harshly to hit your ass.
“Th-that’s not—“Despite your verbal protest, you don’t stop moving your hips in tandem with his own. You can’t help it. He feels too good! So big and thick and he’s hitting all the right places…!
“I’ll give you what you want,” he picks up the pace and bites your shoulder, quickly kissing and licking the stinging mark he leaves behind, “I’ll fill you up, love,” you don’t protest, instead, you moan louder and encourage him to push you closer and closer to the edge, “I’ll fill up your fertile, greedy little belly good— Aah! Okay?”
You don’t answer him as pleasure takes over your mind and all you can do is moan. James also succumbs to the pleasure, sweat on his furrowed brow and tension building in his muscles as he quickly approaches his euphoric end.
But no — he won’t allow himself that until you are fully satisfied. He’ll bring you to your release over and over again before he even thinks about stopping.
With a scream, your vision turns white and your body stiffens up. James cries with pleasure, almost sobbing at the heavenly convulsions of your tight walls around him. As you slowly go limp beneath him, he finally succumbs to his own pleasure, satisfied that had reached your peak already. With a loud, shuddering moan, James pumps you full of his pent-up cum but he doesn’t stop thrusting. His movements are significantly more sluggish but he’s determined to push his white, thick release as deep as it can go.
“You’re so beautiful…” he doesn’t pull out, “my beautiful girl, all mine,” you feel his large hand gently press against the soft skin of your belly and you hear the smile in his voice when he realises– “you’re full of me now. You took me so well, baby,” he coos beside your ear, his hot breath sending a shudder down your spine.
Tilting you both over to lay on your side, he presses into you from behind and cuddles you close. The two of you lay there catching your breaths with James still buried inside you, determined not to pull out and spill all signs of your union.
“...James?” you ask quietly after finally managing to catch your breath.
“Yes, love?” he purrs lowly, kissing behind your ear as he pulls you impossibly close. The affection makes your heart flutter lightly. It’s impossible to deny him like this. Why did he have to make you feel so good? Why did he have to make you feel so loved?
“Please just… think about it?” He tenses up and you hold your breath in preparation for what may come.
“Think about what?...” his hands begin to wander at your front, his delicate touch tracing an unbroken path over your soft skin, “About how much I love you? How much I dream of our future together?”
His words make you tear up, “No, not that—”
“Then, about how beautiful you are? Because you’re very beautiful, my love,” still inside you, James’ fat cock begins to rise again, erect and throbbing for friction, lots of friction.
“J-James–! Ahh! Wait!”
“And I don’t think you realise how beautiful you are, pet~” he coos almost demeaningly, ignoring your squirming, “it’s about time I show you just how beautiful you really are, and how beautifully you take my cock.” your breath stills at the implication, making James smirk into your hair, “Ready for round two?”
Yelping pathetically, James lifts you like a ragdoll and shuffles you both into the bathroom. He had to pull out for the manoeuvre and thick globes of his release poke at the ring of muscle at your entrance. The sensation makes you whimper and clench around nothing, making his hot cum slip out and begin crawling down your inner thigh. Inside the bathroom, James leans you over the sink and carefully parts your hair to kiss the slope of your shoulder before his large hands grab the globes of your ass to pry them apart delicately.
The sight of his thick cum oozing out of your pussy and leaking down your inner thigh pulls a guttural groan from the depths of James’ chest. “You’re so fucking sexy baby,” he praises and smirks at the whimper his comment pulls from your pretty lips, “but what a waste of my cum.” He positions himself behind you, feet shoulder-width apart, and presses his mushroom tip against your wet opening. You’ve become so sensitive that the simple touch makes you squirm but his strong hold on your hips keeps you still. Without warning, he pushes inside so violently, you cry out and fall forward. You would have hit your head if your hands hadn’t come up to brace you against the large wall mirror above the sink.
“Letting my cum drip out of you like that means I need to fill you up again, lovie,” he coos sweetly as if he wasn’t railing you from behind and pushing more of his thick cum out of you. He’s using his spilt seed as lubrication for your second round. “What a devious little minx you are,” James rests his chin against your bare shoulder, his bent-over form hitting a new angle and making you wail in pleasure, “I bet you pushed it out on purpose so I would pump you full again.” He kisses your cheek and you have to face down so you didn’t have to watch yourself getting savagely fucked by the devilish beast who’d possessed your loving boyfriend’s (ex? – that broke your heart) chiselled body. If you continued watching the erotic scene, you would cum too quickly and… you didn’t want that…
“Look at yourself!” James demands and pushes your chin up from underneath, forcing you to watch yourself get fucked.
Eyes wide, you try to look away but he holds your chin in place, “N-no! James!”
“Why not?” he pants heavily, pleasure evident on his beautiful face. You can tell that he was savouring the feeling of you with the way every odd twitch of his brow perfectly corresponded to the sporadic tightening of your walls, “you look so beautiful, my love, see?” he meets your eyes in the mirror, “you’re an angel, an angel who’s perfectly made for me. And I, you,” his poetry weakens your resolve more and more, “Don’t you see how beautiful we look together? We’re the perfect match, baby.” your moans and pants fog up the mirror, unable to say anything back as you’re too lost in the pleasure. James takes his hand away from your chin and focuses on aiming every powerful thrust perfectly so that you feel every tingle of pleasure spike up your spine. Maybe it’ll be able to convince you to stay with him despite his mother’s unwarranted comments.
Feeling yourself tear up at your lover’s words and the sight of your pairing, you turn to the side, only to gasp at the new sight. The glass barrier of the shower provides you with the faintest reflection of your full-body lovemaking with James. His toned body and perfectly carved muscles make him look like a god and he was fucking you as if he had never felt pleasure like this before. His powerful thrusts make your ass bounce rhythmically and his down-turned face makes it obvious how transfixed he is with the movement, urging him to continue despite the ache in his legs and hips.
Seeing the two of you joined together like this and fully lost in the throes of passion stirs something in your lower belly. It’s familiar and aching and hot and—
Throwing your head back, you scream in pleasure and reach your high once again. Your legs are shaking and your hands try to grip the surface of the mirror in an attempt to steady the convulsions of your upper body. Behind you, James gives a few more powerful thrusts before spilling his hot cum inside you again. With the way your walls pulse and throb around him, your uterus wanted to swallow every bit of his cum and make a baby. And with how viscous his release is, there’s a high chance you’ve become pregnant.
Your legs are weak but James keeps you up with steady hands and a secure frame. Again, despite already reaching his high, James doesn’t stop thrusting into you until you’re whimpering from overstimulation. Finally coming to a full stop, James lets out something between a sob and a groan, burrowing his face into your shoulder, “Don’t leave me— please don’t leave me… I love you,” where his lashes press against your skin, a wetness pools and you’re alerted to his tears.
You take a shuddering breath and reach up a hand to comb through your lover’s untamed curls. “I’ll stay Jamie…” James almost snaps his neck in half looking up, his wide, hopeful eyes connecting with yours in the mirror.
“You..?”
“I’ll stay,” you repeat gently but firmly, smiling at him.
“Really?”
“Yes really,” you giggle at his visage; he looks like a kid on Christmas day. “At this rate, I don’t really have a choice,” you begin teasingly as his brows furrow in wonder, “after all of that, I might as well be pregnant right now,”
Your joke isn’t met with a humorous chuckle like you expect, instead, there’s a stirring inside you. Gasping softly, you turn your head and meet James’ dark stare with wide-eyed shock, “Jamie! It’s t-too soon—” he captures your lips fiercely and begins ramming into you for the third time – in a matter of seconds, he had become rock hard again. However, in the state that you were in, sensitive from overstimulation, there isn’t a chance of you lasting longer than a minute. “A-ahhhh! James!”
“Fuck! I love you so much~” James moans deeply, a string of saliva connecting your lips as he pulls back from the heated kiss, “you drive me fucking crazy,” you try holding on for as long as you can but James slapping your ass only to grip possessively at the flesh was all it took to make you cum again. The high makes you tear up, becoming a pitiful, whimpering mess beneath your tenacious lover.
“I want to make sure you’re really pregnant by the end of tonight,” James comments as he presses a kiss into the back of your head. “We can keep going until sunrise, can’t we, love?”
There’s only one true answer to that, “yes~”
A/N : please excuse my inexperience, this is the first official nsfw oneshot i've written ever. the only 'qualification' i have is that i am an avid reader of nsfw content so...yeah, i'd appreciate some constructive criticism wherever possible just please go easy on me... also, i apologise for the long wait since my preview of the piece, i had to rearrange the scenes and rewrote some stuff but it's finally here so i hope you darlings enjoyed the read!
p.s i worked on this on and off for a long time so please excuse me if it feels patchy in some areas (｡Ó﹏Ò｡)
SUMMARY: everything changes for you when snape gives you a certain memory. will you be able to do the task that dumbledore has given you?
WORD COUNT: 4207
GENRE: angst-ish (but not really)
CONTENT WARNING: soulmate & time travel au, english is not my first language
PROOFREAD - (29 SEPT. 2024)
That night, you slept worse than ever, tossing and turning beneath the heavy blanket of your bed. The warmth of the Gryffindor common room did little to ease the restlessness that had settled deep inside you. The wind howled outside, rattling the ancient windows, but the biggest storm was in your mind.
You were standing in a darkened corridor, the shadows long and stretching toward you as if they had a mind of their own. There was a strange stillness in the air, thick and oppressive, like the calm inside a tornado.
Then, from the shadows, he emerged.
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
He moved with an unnatural grace, his dark eyes fixed on you as if he had been expecting you. There was no malice in his gaze, but there was something instelling as though he could see every thought and know every secret you had, every fear and every doubt.
You tried to speak, ask him what this was but you felt like your voice didn’t work. It was as if the air has been stolen from your lungs. You could only stand there, as Tom slowly approached. There wasn’t any fear, when he stood in front of you. Instead, something strange rippled through you - an odd sensation, like the pull of a distant, forgotten memory.
It wasn’t love or friendship. It wasn’t fear or anger. It was something else. A connection that defied logic, like you had known him before. It was an unsettling familiarity, as if some part of your soul recognised him, even though your mind couldn’t place why.
Tom’s gaze was relentless, pulling at something inside you that you couldn’t place, like he was searching for the truth. Though, you weren’t quite sure if he was finding it in you… or if you were finding it in him.
The silence was deafening, and yet, somewhere deep inside, you could feel the thrum of energy connection the two of you. Two sides of the same coin, different but bound by some invisible thread. Tom’s head turned slightly, his expression unreadable, but there was a curious glint in his eyes. As if he were just as intrigued by the connection as you were.
Then, in a voice as soft as silk, he spoke.
“You feel it too, don’t you?”
The words cut through the thick silence like a blade. Trying to answer you opened your mouth, but again, no words came. All you could do was stare back. You felt as if the shadows seemed to tighten around him, wrapping him in their grasp as he began to fade.
Feeling a jolt of panic, the connection between you was slipping away, like sand through your fingers.
You woke up with a start, your heart pounding in your chest. For a moment, you didn’t realise in what room you were in - the familiar red-and-gold curtains of your bed and the soft snoring of your dorm mates, made you realise where you were.
Running a hand through your hair, you sat up slowly. Your breath was shaky as you tried to steady yourself. The strange feeling lingered inside of you, curling around you like fog.
Beside you, Shadow stirred for a bit, his green eyes glowed faintly in the dark as he curled up closer to your side, purring softly. His warmth grounded you, bringing you back to reality.
The dream you had felt too real, too vivid. It felt like a memory, a memory you hadn’t quite lived yet.
“Are you alright?” Maeve murmured from the bed beside you, her voice groggy with sleep.
You glanced over at her, managing a small smile. “Hm, yeah, just… a weird dream.”
Maeve groaned, “You should go back to sleep.”
“Yeah, I will,” you muttered back slowly. Soon enough Maeve drifted back to sleep as you laid down, staring at the ceiling, your thoughts were swirling.
Something was pulling you toward him, but you couldn’t figure out if it was a good thing or something much, much worse.
The Great Hall was buzzing with the usual morning chatter as students filled the long tables, eating breakfast, trading gossip and preparing for the long day ahead.
You were sat between Maeve and Lucas, your breakfast was largely untouched. The smell of food turned your stomach, the distant murmur of conversation barely registered. The only thing on your mind was the dream and how real it felt. The strange feeling that you had a connection with someone like him. It left you rattled, no amount of tea or polite smiles from anyone could pull you out of the fog that hung over your thoughts.
Lucas had been watching you closely, he always was good at reading people, especially his friends. He noticed the way you lingered over your cup of tea, how your toast was barely touched and how your normal banter had been reduced to absentminded responses.
He leaned in a bit closer to you, nudging your shoulder. “You alright?” he asked, his voice was laced with concern. “You’ve been staring at your toast for five minutes, as if it’s going to tell you the meaning of life.”
You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts, just enough to meet Lucas’ gaze. “Oh, I’m fine, just a bit tired,” your words felt more hollow then everything.
Lucas raised an eyebrow, not convinced, “Sure you are.”
“Come on, you can’t lie to me. What’s going on? Did shadow eat your astronomy essay or something?”
A chuckle came out of you, “No, nothing like that. Just… I had a really weird dream last night.”
“Weird dream?” Lucas’ expression softened, he glanced at Maeve, who was busy buttering her toast and made conversation with Alicia, Lilith and another Gryffindor girl. “Anything to do with a certain dark-haired, brooding someone?”
Your eyes widened in surprise. Your gaze drifted away from Lucas’s face to the Slytherin table, where Tom sat with his usual group. He was speaking to a few students around him. Before you looked down at your toast again, Lucas followed your line of sight.
His eyes narrowed slightly, as he watched Riddle for a moment. Something shifted in his expression, a flicker of confusion crossing his features. Just then, Tom’s dark gaze lifted from his conversation - and landed directly on you.
Lucas noticed it almost immediately.
For a moment, Tom’s eyes lingered, his expression was unreadable as he seemed to study you from across the hall. There was no frown, no smile, just that same unnerving intensity he always carried. But the second Lucas’ gaze met his, Tom’s eyes flickered. As if nothing happened, Tom smoothly looked away, turning his attention back to his table.
But Lucas saw enough.
He turned back to you, “Riddle was just staring at you.” Lucas looked at your reaction, “Again.”
With furrowed brows you looked up at him. “What do you mean, ‘again’?”
“I’ve noticed it before. In the library, the halls. It’s subtle, but its there. He watches you, and I don’t mean in a charming, ‘oh, look, someone has a crush’, kind of way.” Lucas took a breath, “its a look as if he’s trying to read you; trying to calculate every move you’ll make before you do it.”
You felt your stomach tighten, it wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed the way Tom’s eyes seemed to follow you in class or when you’d walk by his group of ‘friends’. But you knew he watched almost everyone, he was always analysing people. Especially the ones who were obsessed with him, it was as if he was a famous person, so how could him staring at you be any different?
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, looking down at the new cup of tea you had. “It’s probably nothing, maybe he just-”
“No,” Lucas interrupted firmly, “It’s not nothing. The way he looks at you… I’ve seen Riddle do his ‘perfect student, teacher’s pet, everyone-wants-to-be-me’ act a hundred times. This isn’t that.”
You knew he wasn’t wrong, but you just wanted to brush it off, tell Lucas that he was just being paranoid. The connection you had with Tom was strange but it was there. And if Lucas noticed it.. then it wasn’t just in your head.
Before either of you could talk about it any more, Alicia interrupted the conversation, never had you been more thankful to the red-headed girl.
You tried to shake the feeling of Tom’s gaze on you, even though he wasn’t looking anymore. The feeling lingered in the back of your mind, just as it had in the dream, refusing to be ignored. As if the feeling had a mind of its own.
Something was happening, and Tom Riddle was at the center of it. Whether you liked it or not, you were already caught in his little game.
Potions class was where the real challenge came. Sitting beside Alicia in the dimly lit dungeon classroom, you were acutely aware of the bubbling cauldrons surrounding you. The thick, earthy smell of ingredients filled the air as professor Slughorn was explaining today’s assignment - you had to brew a Draught of Living Death, an advanced potion, something different then the calming draught you had to make last time for marks.
Alicia carefully laid out the ingredients in front of her, Lucas and Lilith - who were sat behind you - were silently bickering over who got to chop the sopophorous bean.
“I’ve got this, Luca,” Lilith said pointedly, her hand already hovering over the ingredients.
“Come on, you know I’m better with chopping things up,” Lucas insisted. “Back me up here, Y/n!”
You raised an eyebrow, stirring your potion carefully. “I’m not getting involved in this.”
Alicia snickered from beside you, “You two always bicker like an old married couple. It’s almost as if you’ve got a crush on her, Lucas.”
Lucas let Lilith chop up the beans as he started working on the liquids. You leaned back in your seat, nudging his arm playfully. “Come on, Lucas, don’t get shy on us now.”
He chuckled, “I’m just making sure no one ruins the potion, alright? That’s all.”
Lilith gave him a sidelong glance, her eyes narrowing suspiciously but saying nothing. You caught the flicker of something in Lucas’s expression, something unspoken, but before you could dwell on it, Slughorn’s voice boomed through the classroom, reminding everyone to pay attention to their cauldrons.
As class continued, your friends fell back into their usual banter.
The greenhouse felt warm, humid and was filled with the scent of earth and greenery. Rows of strange, magical plants surrounded the students as they gathered around their tables.
You were standing at one of the tables, glancing over at the assortment of magical herbs laid out before you, gloves on your hands and a frown of concentration on your face. Lucas stood beside you, casually leaning against the edge of the table, fiddling with a small pair of pruning shears while he watched you.
“So,” Lucas said, breaking the silence between you, “do you think Professor Garlick would notice if we ‘accidentally’ might have lost one of these Venomous Tentacula seedlings?” His eyes flicked over to a particularly spiky plant sitting ominously in a pot in front of you.
You chuckled, shaking your head a bit. “Knowing our luck, the thing would probably crawl behind us in the common room and bite us.”
He grinned, tossing the shears from hand to hand in an exaggerated manner. “Fair point. I’m not sure I want a plant that’s actively trying to kill me hanging out in the common room.”
“Good decision,” you said with a smirk. “I prefer my plants a little less homicidal, thank you very much.”
As the two of you began working on trimming the plants — or at least trying to — you and Lucas fell into an easy flowing conversation. It felt good to talk about nothing—just plants, potions, and ridiculous daydreams of dropping out of Hogwarts to start a shady potion business. The clinks of shears and the rustling of leaves became the backdrop to your chatter, like background music.
“So, Alicia was telling me she once tried using the Confundus Charm on her dog at home,” Lucas said, cutting a leaf that seemed to recoil at his touch. “You know, just to see if it would work.”
You raised an eyebrow, stifling a laugh. “Why am I not surprised? How did that go?”
“Apparently, it spent two days walking into walls,” Lucas replied with a grin. “She felt so guilty she didn’t stop crying for a week.”
“Poor thing,” you muttered, though you were still laughing. “I can’t picture Alicia doing that, but then again, she does have a bit of a wild streak.”
Lucas nodded. “Speaking of wild streaks, have you heard about the second years? Apparently, they keep sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest after dinner. I’m almost certain they’re planning some kind of illegal magical creature-petting zoo.”
You smirked. “Or they’re looking for unicorns. Lili swore she saw one last year.”
“Right, Lilith and her unicorn conspiracy theory. Typical.” Lucas laughed, reaching for another spiky plant.
Just then, the door to the greenhouse creaked open slowly, and a small group of Slytherins sauntered in late, earning a stern look from Professor Garlick. They made their way to the far side of the room, chatting quietly among themselves as they set up at one of the tables. You didn’t pay them much attention at, mostly focused on your own work. “Has Alicia asked you to come with us to Hogsmeade? Lilith, Maeve, some Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are also going.”
“Hogsmeade?” you repeated. “She mentioned it before, but I wasn’t sure if it was a solid plan yet. What time are you all thinking of going?”
Lucas shrugged. “Around 12, I think. We’re meeting by the main gates.”
Students from all houses were chattering away between mouthfuls of food. Plates shimmered with roast chicken, potatoes, and a variety of desserts and some other greens. You sat next to Lucas and Maeve, across from Lilith who was next to Alicia. Quietly, you stuffed your face with the contents that were on your plate as your thoughts drifted back to the events of the day.
Tom Riddle. His name lingered in your mind, and you could feel his eyes on you throughout the day, a quiet, intense presence that you couldn’t escape. Even now, as you sat at the Gryffindor table.
“Are you going to eat that?” Lucas nudged your elbow, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You blinked, glancing down at the roast chicken you hadn’t touched. “Oh, uh… no. You can have it if you want.” Besides, you already ate two big pieces.
Lucas didn’t need to be told twice. He took the chicken with his fork and placed it on his own plate, grinning at you. “Thanks.”
“-and then, after Professor Slughorn turned around, the cauldron exploded! I swear, there’s still some kind of purple gunk in my hair,” Maeve was saying, holding up a lock of her curly dark hair that was painted purple with a look of sheer horror. “I’ve washed it three times, and it won’t come out!”
Alicia grinned as she stabbed a piece of chicken with her fork. “Could be worse. At least it didn’t turn green. Imagine walking around Hogwarts looking like a Slytherin all week.”
You laughed along with them, feeling your anxieties lessen as the conversation flowed around you. All of you were almost done with eating, well, except for Lucas.
“Alright, best part of the day, hands down,” Lucas said, piling his plate high with food. “Herbology was fun and all, but nothing beats dinner.”
Alicia rolled her eyes, delicately spooning her leftover mashed potatoes onto her plate. “You say that every day, Lucas.”
“Because it’s true every day,” he replied, grinning. “This is basically my moment of glory.”
Maeve laughed as she passed the gravy boat to you. “Don’t let your head get too big. You’re already insufferable.”
Dinner had become your favorite part of the day — a time to unwind, surrounded by your friends, when everything felt normal.
“So,” Maeve said, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in her eye, “did anyone hear about the prank the Ravenclaws pulled in Charms today? Apparently, they enchanted all the ink in Professor Flitwick’s classroom to turn invisible.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I wish I’d seen that.”
“Well,” a voice chimed in from behind you, “you’re in luck. You’re sitting with the masterminds themselves.”
You turned to see a boy with messy brown hair and a wide grin, his Ravenclaw robes slightly askew as he plopped down on the bench next to you. Beside him, a girl with bright eyes and ginger hair tied back in a neat ponytail slid into the seat next to him, her Hufflepuff crest visible on her robes.
“Everyone, this is Ben Selwyn,” Maeve said, gesturing to the boy, “and Cressida Bones.” She nodded to the girl. “Ben’s a Ravenclaw, obviously, and Cressida’s in Hufflepuff.”
You nodded politely, offering a smile. “Hi, I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you.”
Ben grinned back, clearly pleased to be in the spotlight. “Nice to meet you too, Y/n. So, Maeve told me you’re new here?”
You nodded, taking a sip of your pumpkin juice. “Yeah, transferred from Beauxbatons.”
“Ah, Beauxbatons,” Cressida said, her voice soft but friendly. “I’ve always wanted to see that. What’s it like?”
If only you knew.
“It’s beautiful,” you replied. “But Hogwarts has its own charm.”
Ben chuckled. “I bet. You’ll find the chaos here much more… exciting.” He gave you a wink. “So, how are you finding Gryffindor? Do they live up to their reputation of reckless bravery?”
Before you could answer, Lucas leaned over, a mock-serious expression on his face. “We prefer the term ‘daring,’ Ben. ‘Reckless’ makes it sound like we don’t plan things out.”
Alicia snorted. “We don’t.”
“Details,” Lucas said, waving a hand dismissively.
As the conversation flowed between the group, you found yourself smiling, it was good to make new friends. Ben was charming in his slightly chaotic way, and Cressida had a quiet, calming presence that balanced him out perfectly. You fell into easy conversation with them both, but something about Cressida’s last name nagged at you. You swore you recognised it.
Bones. The Bones family was well-known for their involvement in the Ministry of Magic, and they had a long history of fighting against Dark magic. It was also a fact that you were friends with her granddaughter, Susan. How ironic.
“You know, Ben’s obsessed with ancient runes,” Maeve said with a teasing grin. “And Cressida’s been working on Arithmancy equations that make my head spin by just looking at them.”
Hermione once told you that ancient runes was very interesting, more interesting than divination at least. It almost made you want to join her.
Cressida smiled modestly, shaking her head. “It’s not as hard as it sounds. You just have to break the formulas down bit by bit.”
“Bit by bit?” Lucas groaned. “I can barely handle the basics, let alone advanced Arithmancy.”
Ben laughed. “Don’t worry, you’re not the only one. Half the Ravenclaws I know avoid that subject like the plague.”
As the conversation continued, you started to relax even more, allowing yourself to be drawn into the easy flow of banter around the table. Ben and Cressida fit in with your group effortlessly, and you found yourself enjoying their company despite the odd feeling in your chest.
But then you saw him.
Tom Riddle sat at the center of his house table, his dark hair perfectly in place. But even though he was engaged in conversation, his gaze flicked toward you — just for a second. It was brief, so brief that you might have imagined it, but the moment your eyes met his, a chill ran down your spine. He looked away just as quickly, as though nothing had happened.
It took everything in you to tear your gaze away from him.
“Anyone want to go to the library after dinner?” he asked, glancing around the table. “I’ve got some research I need to do for Charms, and it might be quieter than trying to read in the common room.”
Cressida nodded, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Good idea. It’s getting too noisy in Hufflepuff Tower lately with all the OWLs panic starting early this year.”
You decided that it would be good to go study for a bit. “I’ll go. I need to study for Divination anyway.”
Lucas, who was seated next to you, looked at you with a raised eyebrow, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Divination? I didn’t take you for the ‘reading tea leaves’ type.”
You rolled your eyes but grinned back at him. “Someone has to make sense of all those cloudy images. Besides, I’ve been struggling with the latest lesson. Might as well get a head start.”
“Fair enough,” Lucas replied, laughing. “I’ll pass, though. The library’s got that ‘studious’ vibe that makes me want to fall asleep.”
Lilith rolled her eyes at him playfully. “Maybe you should be spending more time there instead of complaining about it.” Lucas let out a fake gasp, “You wound me, woman!”
“So, what do you think about the whole prophecy angle in Divination?” Alicia asked, turning to you as she stirred in her tea. “Do you buy into all that? The crystal balls, the vague fortunes?”
You turned your attention towards her, smiling a little. “Honestly? Not really. It feels like a lot of guesswork and theatrics. But I suppose I’ll have to try harder if I want to pass.”
Ben stood up, brushing a few crumbs from his robes. “Alright, we’ll meet up in a few minutes,” he said, glancing at you with an easy smile. “Could always use some company while working through Divination.”
You nodded, standing up as well. “I’ll just grab my things.”
As you excused yourself from the table, Lucas shot you a look, half-joking. “Just don’t get too lost in the future. Who knows what Divination will show you next?”
“Nothing scarier than what I’ve already seen,” you muttered under your breath. You could feel his gaze linger on you as you made your way out of the hall with Ben and Cressida.
The walk to the library was quieter, the corridors now dimly lit by the torches that lined the stone walls. Ben walked beside you and Cressida, his steps in sync with yours, the three of you falling into an easy rhythm.
“Divination’s the one class I can’t take seriously,” Ben said after a moment, his voice echoing softly in the quiet hallway. “You really do need to study for it?”
You shrugged, glancing over at him. “Well, not exactly. It’s not the hardest subject. But I’ve been… distracted lately.”
Cressida glanced at you, her brow furrowing slightly. “Distracted? By what?”
You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to delve too deeply into the strange tension that had been hanging over you ever since your arrival. Tom. The dream. The cat that Lucas thought to be more than it appeared, but it wasn’t. It all weighed heavily on your mind, but explaining that to them seemed impossible. Besides, you didn’t want to drag him into the complicated mess that had become your life.
“Just… adjusting to everything,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Being new here, catching up on classes. You know how it is.”
Ben seemed to accept your answer, though his expression remained thoughtful. “Well, you seem to be managing it all pretty well. Better than most transfers, anyway.”
You smiled softly. “Thanks. I’m just trying to keep up.”
The library loomed ahead, its towering doors casting long shadows across the floor. Inside, the warm, familiar scent of parchment and ink filled the air. The silence here was always calming, a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the Great Hall. You made your way toward the back of the library, finding a quieter section where the Divination books were shelved.
Ben set his bag down at a nearby table and took a seat, stretching his arms over his head. “Alright then, time to pretend I care about the intricacies of Dark Arts defense theory.” He flashed you a playful grin, pulling out a thick textbook from his bag. “Merlin knows, that class tires me out so much,” Cressida held back a yawn as she took a seat next to you.
You smiled back, grabbing a Divination textbook and settling into the chair across from Ben. “And I’ll be trying to ‘see into the future’ through the bottom of a teacup, apparently.”
Ben chuckled, opening his book and flipping to the correct page. “Sounds like we’ve got a thrilling evening ahead of us.”
As the three of you settled into your studies, a quiet sense of normalcy began to fall over you. For the first time in days, the weight on your shoulders lightened, even if only a little. The peaceful atmosphere of the library, the quiet companionship of Ben and Cressida, and the steady rhythm of flipping pages seemed to bring you some small sense of calm.
A/n: sorry for this weird chapter, I got Covid so my mind is FUZZYYY😔😔
SUMMARY: everything changes for you when snape gives you a certain memory. will you be able to do the task that dumbledore has given you?
WORD COUNT: 4677
GENRE: angst-ish (but not really)
CONTENT WARNING: soulmate (soulbound) & time travel au, english is not my first language, i took names of professor in harry's time (it's easier that way)
PROOFREAD - (24 SEP. 2024)
You were walking through the Hogwarts courtyard, bundled up in your robes as the wind carried a hint of the colder months that were coming. The sun filtered through the canopy of orange and red; it was a cold day without the sun. As you approached the Gryffindor common room after breakfast, you spotted Lucas—tall, with his messy black curls and easygoing grin—leaning casually against the wall.
“There you are!” he called out, pushing off the wall and strolling over to you. “I’ve been looking for you. Fancy coming with me to Hogsmeade? I’ve got some things to pick up, and I thought you could use a break from all the studying.”
You raised an eyebrow, interested. “And by ‘things,’ you mean what exactly?”
“Important stuff!” Lucas replied with mock seriousness. “Like sweets from Honeydukes and a new quill, since I keep losing mine. And, of course, we have to stop at Zonko’s - can’t leave without some supplies for our next prank on Maeve.”
You let out a laugh, feeling the tension of the past few years slip away. You figured you could use a shopping day - it was a Saturday after all; you could just study after. “Sounds like a plan, though I’m not sure if Maeve would be happy with another one of your ‘masterpieces’.”
“She’ll survive. Besides, I’ve got a new idea that’ll totally blow her mind; just wait and see,” Lucas nudged you playfully.
As you made your way down the long, winding path to Hogsmeade, a sleek black cat caught your eye. It seemed to be lingering just out of reach; you’d seen the cat a few times today, always trailing a few paces behind, watching you with its bright, curious green eyes. It had followed you from the common room to the courtyard, through the grounds, and now it was walking behind you and Lucas as though it belonged with the two of you.
“Look at that,” you murmured, glancing over your shoulder at the cat. “It’s been following me this entire day.”
Lucas turned around, narrowing his eyes slightly at the feline. “Huh, that’s a little weird, don’t you think? Cats don’t usually follow people around for no reason.”
You crouched down and extended a hand toward the cat. To your surprise, it didn’t hesitate. The cat padded forward and nuzzled your palm; its fluffy and soft fur was warm, despite the chill in the air. You smiled, scratching it behind the ears.
“I think it likes me,” you said, looking up at Lucas. “Maybe it's a stray. What do you think?”
Lucas crossed his arms and looked at the cat with a suspicious expression. “It's a little too good to be true, don’t you think? A mysterious black cat following you around Hogwarts. You know there are loads of horror stories about witches using cats as spies, right?”
“You're paranoid,” you rolled your eyes at him, but smiled.
“I’m cautious,” Lucas corrected, though there was a small teasing glint in his eyes. “But if you’re set on keeping it, we should make sure it’s not... I don’t know, an Animagus or something. Better safe than sorry, right?”
“You think someone’s been using this little thing to spy on me?”
Lucas shrugged, but he was already pulling out his wand. “Could be, perhaps. There’s a simple charm to check for such things; it won’t hurt the cat - you have my promise.”
You stood up and took a step back, “Okay, but I’m telling you, it’s just a normal cat.”
Lucas raised his wand, pointing it at the cat as he muttered the incantation under his breath. A faint blue light shimmered from the tip of his wand. It surrounded the cat for a moment before fading away.
You both stared at the cat in silence, holding your breath, waiting for whatever was about to happen. But the cat just blinked up at you, then licked its paw nonchalantly.
Lucas let out a breath, “Phew... what do you know? It’s just a regular old cat.”
“Told you,” you smirked, “looks like you’re now stuck with me and my new pet.”
The cat - as if it sensed your affectionate words - let out a soft purr and wound itself around your legs once more. You knelt down and scratched behind its ears again. A bond was already beginning to form. The only problem was the lice and many more things that were scattered across its fur.
"Alright, alright," Lucas said, laughing. "I suppose it shouldn’t be a problem.”
With the cat in tow, you and Lucas continued down the path to Hogsmeade. The bustling village was already alive with students and locals; shops were gleaming with fresh stock and festive decorations for upcoming festivities. As you entered Honeydukes, the warmth of the shop’s interior enveloped you, along with the sweet scent of sugar and chocolate.
“So, what’s your go-to sweet?” Lucas asked as he grabbed a basket, eyeing the chocolate frogs with heart eyes.
“Maybe the peppermint toads?” you said with a grin, grabbing a small bag from the shelf. “They’re the perfect balance of sweet and refreshing.”
Lucas pulled a face, “You’re a maniac. It’s all about the fizzing whizzbees.”
Both of you wandered through the aisles, piling your basket high with various candies - sugar quills, licorice wands, jelly slugs. At one point, Lucas tried to sneak a handful of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans into your bag, but you caught him just in time.
“You’re not tricking me into eating vomit-flavored beans again!” you narrowed your eyes at him.
Lucas laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I'll save it for someone else.”
After stocking enough sweets to last almost a month, you and Lucas headed to Zonko’s. The shop was just as chaotic as expected, filled with exploding fireworks, laughing gas, and all manner of joke items. Lucas was in his element, darting from one display to the next with an excitement you hadn't seen since your first year at Hogwarts when you'd go shopping with the Weasleys.
It made you wonder if there was a Weasley in this timeline, or a Potter; surely there must—
“I’ve got it,” Lucas broke your trance, holding up a box of nose-biting teacups. “We’ll switch Maeve's regular tea with one of these. Can you imagine the look on her face?”
You shook your head, grinning, “You’re terrible.”
“Hey! You’re the one who agreed to come with me,” he replied, winking. “Makes you an accomplice.”
After spending almost an hour in Zonko’s, you finally dragged Lucas away before he bought the entire store. The two of you made your way back to Hogwarts, the pockets of your robes stuffed with sweets, joke items, and - in your case - also a black cat nestled happily in your arms.
“Already thought of a name?” Lucas asked as you strolled along the path.
You looked down at the cat, who had fallen asleep in your arms, still purring softly. “I’m not so sure yet; maybe something like ‘Shadow’?”
“Shadow,” Lucas mused, “hm, not bad; fits the whole ‘following you everywhere’ thing it’s got going on.”
You laughed, feeling the warmth of the cat’s fur against you. Despite the whirlwind of chaos that had brought you here, there was something so comforting about the small creature that had decided to be your companion.
And as you and Lucas made your way back to the castle, joking and teasing each other, you felt like things were normal, like you were just a regular student at Hogwarts, living in a time untouched by war and dark magic.
You went to sleep that day feeling better already, with the small feline curled up at the end of your bed, purring, its little collar having a little bell that you bought in a shop.
The following morning, you made your way down the main aisle, the familiar hum of chatter and clicking of cutlery filling the air. It was officially your second week at Hogwarts, and though you were still getting used to the time period, you started to have a routine.
You reached the Gryffindor table and spotted your friends, already gathering around a platter of toast and eggs; some of them had pancakes. They waved you over and made space as you slipped onto the bench beside them.
“Morning, y/n!” Maeve greeted brightly, pushing a pitcher of pumpkin juice toward you. Her curly hair was a little wild this morning, as if she didn’t care. “Sleep well?”
You poured yourself a glass. “Pretty well, all things considered. I think I’m getting used to these weird ancient beds.”
Alicia snorted, her red hair falling into her eyes as she reached for a stack of pancakes. “Weird ancient beds? Try getting used to the weird ancient ghosts! I had Nearly Headless Nick hovering over my bed last night, telling some kind of story about jousting. I barely slept.”
“Better Nick than Peeves, though. That poltergeist kept chucking ink at me during Charms yesterday,” Maeve giggled, spreading jam on a piece of toast.
You laughed, feeling a warmth in your chest that you weren’t expecting. These girls had made everything feel… lighter. The constant worry in the back of your mind lessened. Here, in the morning sunlight with breakfast laid out before you, you almost forgot the real reason why you were here.
“Mm, speaking of Charms,” Maeve said, glancing at her timetable. “We’ve got it again this morning. Think Professor Flitwick will finally let us practice summoning spells?”
“I certainly hope so,” Lilith spoke as quietly as ever, but her eyes were sparkling with excitement. “Right? I’ve been dying to try action on something bigger. Imagine being able to summon an entire plate of pastries!” Lucas exclaimed.
“As if we need more reasons for you to get distracted during class, Luca,” Alicia rolled her eyes.
They continued to chatter about the day ahead while you found your gaze wandering around. The students were busy with their own conversations; some were studying, others were yawning over cups of tea, while some were also scribbling down last-minute notes for their morning classes. Everything felt so normal.
When your eyes landed on the Slytherin table, the illusion of normalcy shattered. You’d almost forgotten about him.
Tom Riddle. He was sitting at the center, surrounded by his usual group of admirers. He was composed, elegant even, as he buttered a piece of toast, speaking quietly to a blonde male next to him.
You looked away quickly before his group—or him—could notice you staring. “You’re awfully quiet this morning,” Maeve nudged you with her elbow.
“Everything alright?”
You gave a smile, hoping it didn’t look too strained. “Yeah, just thinking about today.”
“Don’t worry about it too much; it’s only the second week,” Lucas smiled. “Besides, you’re part of the group now. We’re in this together.”
“No backing out,” Lilith added, and for a second, you thought you’d melted.
You smiled, relaxing. You felt it reach your eyes; a sense of belonging wandered around in the back of your mind.
Breakfast continued, and so did the conversation to a more light-hearted topic: Alicia’s and Lilith’s excitement about the next Hogsmeade trip, Lucas’s plans for another elaborate prank on their dorm mate, and Maeve’s ongoing battle with Peeves. You listened, laughed, and chimed in the conversation whenever you could.
Maeve slung her bag over her shoulder and stood up. “Come on, y/n. Let’s see if we can make it to Flitwick’s class before Luca drags us to the kitchens for more pastries.”
“I resent that,” Lucas called over his shoulder, “but I do want more pastries.”
You smiled and grabbed your bag as you followed them out of the Great Hall, trying to savour the last few minutes of peace before the day truly began.
⋆｡⋆˙⟡charms class:
When you arrived at the Charms class, it was buzzing with quiet energy as tired students filed in, quills and textbooks clutched in their hands. You took a seat next to Maeve on your left side. Behind another desk with space in between you two sat another girl—Slytherin.
“Good morning, everyone! Today, we will be practicing summoning charms—Accio!” Professor Flitwick said loudly, standing on a stack of books at the front of the class as he clapped his hands to get the attention of all the students.
An exciting murmur passed through the room. You realized how, in their fifth year, they learn about summoning spells in this timeline, while in Harry’s timeline you learned more defensive spells or memory spells. The difference was huge.
Summoning charms were pretty basic, but growing up in times like you did, you almost had no time getting used to a simple spell like Accio while you could easily Obliviate someone or use the Patronus charm.
“Partner up!” Flitwick instructed. You turned to look at Maeve, who was already grinning at you.
“I’ve been practicing this all week,” Maeve said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Let’s see if I can summon a bigger thing than a quill this time.”
“Alright, but if you summon a desk by accident, you’re responsible,” you teased her, setting your wand on your desk.
Maeve pointed her wand at one of the cushions Flitwick had left for practice. “Accio cushion!” she shouted, her wand slicing through the air.
The cushion zoomed toward her, though it wobbled slightly before landing in her arms. “Not bad, right?”
You clapped lightly. “That was impressive!”
Maeve jokingly gave a little bow to you. “Your turn!”
You focused on a cushion that was lying a few feet away, envisioning it flying smoothly into your hands. After a flick of your wand, you called out,
“Accio cushion!”
The cushion shot toward you with more speed than you expected, hitting you on your chest slightly and knocking you back slightly. You laughed, catching it just in time. Maeve burst into giggles beside you.
“Well, at least it's working,” you said with a grin. Putting the cushion down, you glanced around the room and caught sight of Tom. He was practicing at the far end of the classroom. He performed the spell flawlessly, his cushion gliding into his hands with barely a flick of his wrist. His focus was intense, almost unnerving.
You quickly turned towards Maeve again, not wanting to dwell on him.
⋆｡⋆˙⟡potions class:
The potion classroom in the dungeons was dark and cool; the only source of light was flickering. A mushy and earthy scent of ingredients filled the air as you sat down next to Alicia at one of the tables near the back.
“Right,” Alicia said, pulling out her ingredients. “I’ve got a good feeling about today’s potion. We’re supposed to make something simple, so there’s no way I can accidentally melt my cauldron like last week.”
You snickered. “Simple or not, I still think you have a way to make the easiest potions chaotic.”
Before Alicia could respond, Professor Slughorn’s jovial voice boomed across the room. “Today, my dear students, we will be brewing a calming draught. Quite useful for, uh, stressful situations.” He winked at the class. “-“I’m sure none of you feel stressed, though.”
You could feel the irony of the assignment, given how much stress you were actually under without anyone really knowing. You could probably use a calming draught or two just to get through the day.
Slughorn’s face was surrounded with enthusiasm as he demonstrated the first few steps, his eyes darting over the class with interest. You gathered the ingredients you needed and carefully measured out the valerian root, hellebore syrup, and the fluxweed oil.
“So, you think Slughorn’s going to invite you to one of his little parties?” Alicia asked as she ground some peppermint into powder.
You shrugged, keeping your focus on your cauldron as you stirred it clockwise. “Not very likely. I don’t really know what those parties are even about,” you lied. You went to one meeting with Hermione and decided to never go again. Simply a waste of time.
Alicia raised an eyebrow. “Well, Slughorn kinda ‘collects’ talented students. You’re smart, plus you’re new and kind. So, I’d say you're prime Slug Club material.”
You smiled at her. “We’ll see,” you said quietly. “Plus, I think Riddle is in Slug Club,” Alicia whispered.
You almost spilled the peppermint that you were trying to add into your potion. “Sorry, what?” you gaped at her. She scoffed at you and smiled. “Don’t act dumb; I always see you looking at him.”
Your potion turned to a soft blue—that was a good sign. “What??? No, I don’t…” you mumbled and glanced over at Alicia’s cauldron, which was bubbling a little too vigorously.
“Uh, Alicia... are you sure you didn’t add too much oil?” you asked her, eyeing the bubbles. “You’re not getting out of this conversation, Y/N,”Alicia said while she kept adding oil.
“No, no, I’m serious; look at those bubbles.”
“Oh, oops,” Alicia gasped and quickly turned down the heat under her cauldron. “Well, at least it’s not melting this time.”
You laughed softly, helping her adjust the potion before it boiled over. Potions was always a mix of stress and humor with Alicia. Seems like you're not as slick as you thought you were.
⋆｡⋆˙⟡transfiguration class:
Dumbledore’s class, there was a different energy in the air. The room was spacious and bright; high arched windows were letting beams of sunlight in that illuminated against the desks. Dumbledore was standing at the front. “Today,” Dumbledore began, “we will attempt one of the more advanced transfigurations: turning inanimate objects into animals. Quite the leap from last week’s matchsticks to needles, wouldn’t you say?”
Maeve leaned over to you, whispering, “What if we give a four-legged animal six legs by mistake?”
You snickered quietly.
Dumbledore waved his wand, and a stack of stones appeared on each of the students’ desks. “Your task today is to transform this stone into small creatures of your choosing: a mouse, perhaps, or a bird. Be gentle and focus.”
You pointed your wand at the stone, visualising a small bird. With clear focus, you flicked your wand, saying the incantation softly.
To your surprise, the stone started shifting, wings sprouting from its sides as it transformed into a tiny sparrow. It fluttered its wings in confusion before hopping onto your desk.
“Well, aren’t you just the star pupil,” Maeve teased with a grin. She was still poking at her half-transformed stone, which looked more like a stone with some fur on it.
From the front of the class, Dumbledore’s eyes met yours briefly, and he gave a small approving nod. You continued helping Maeve when you caught a glimpse of Tom Riddle a few rows ahead. His magic was perfect—obviously. The stone in front of him had turned into a sleek, black raven that perched on his desk with eerie calm.
You sighed, forcing yourself to focus more on Maeve and her furry rock. There would be plenty of time to think about Tom later, but the time was ticking, and you knew it
Shadow, the cat that you’d taken in, padded silently beside you as you made your way to the library. You smiled down at him; Shadow had proven to be nothing more than a sweet, lovely companion. The cat had followed you everywhere except for classes.
“You like books, don’t you?” you murmured to the cat as you entered the library, earning a few curious glances from other students. Shadow flicked his tail and trotted ahead of you, his sleek form disappearing between two towering bookshelves.
The library was quiet and warm, even after dinner. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and dust. You loved it in the library; it felt like a sanctuary, a place where time stood still.
Wandering through the shelves, you scanned the spines of the books you passed. Every so often, you’d glance behind you to make sure Shadow was still with you. Reaching a shelf tucked in a quiet corner of the library, you found a book you'd been looking for - The Founder’s Legacy: A History of Hogwarts. It was a book you needed for your Muggle Studies.
You pulled it down and tucked it under your arm, turning to leave the aisle; but when you did, you noticed Shadow was gone. “Shadow?” you called softly, careful not to disturb the other students. The silence of the library seemed to grow louder, your eyes searching for the black fur you had grown accustomed to.
Frowning, you stepped out of the aisle, looking around for any sign of the cat. Only a few students were scattered around the tables, their heads buried in their studies. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted him.
At one of the far tables, seated in his usual spot near the back of the library, was Tom Riddle.
With Shadow.
Your breath caught in your throat. The sleek black cat had made himself comfortable on the edge of Tom’s open book, his paws kneading the pages as he purred contentedly. Tom didn’t seem bothered by the interruption. In fact, he was watching the cat with an odd expression - almost as if he was amused, though his features remained calm and composed as always.
For a second, you just stood there, contemplating all your life’s choices. Seeing Shadow so comfortable made your heart race. Tom Riddle, the person you were meant to change, was casually petting the cat you had taken in, and it made your situation feel even more surreal.
But only you couldn't keep standing there forever, staring at Tom Riddle.
So, you summoned up your courage and slowly walked over to the table, forcing yourself to remain calm even though you could feel your chest preparing for a panic attack.
“Looking for this?” His voice was soft but cold as he gestured to the cat with a slight raise of his hand. Shadow meowed happily and stretched out his paws, pushing against Tom's book as if he had claimed it for himself.
Hearing Tom’s voice changed something in you; a warm feeling spread through you.
“Yes,” you said, your voice steady, trying to ignore all the feelings you were feeling at once. “I didn’t realise he’d wandered off.”
Tom’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, studying you with the same unsettling intensity you’d noticed in class. Then he looked back at the cat, one hand absently touching behind Shadow’s ear. The cat purred louder, pressing into the touch as though he had always belonged there.
“He seems to like me,” Tom observed. You had to hold back a scoff, so you forced a smile. “He’s a friendly one.”
“I can see.”
You weren’t sure how to respond to that. You cleared your throat and stepped forward, reaching for Shadow. “Well, I should get him out of your way; he’s probably disturbing your reading. Or studying, or whatever…”
Tom didn’t move at first, and for a brief second, you thought he might not let you take back your cat. But then he pulled his hand back. Shadow, oblivious to the tension, stretched lazily before hopping off the table and rubbing against your leg.
You cradled Shadow in your arms as you tried to steady your nerves.
You felt Tom’s gaze linger on you for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to his book, his expression unreadable. “Be careful,” he said, his voice low. “Not everything that follows you is harmless.”
You blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. Was that a warning? Or something more? Before you could reply, Tom had already turned the page of his book, his focus shifting away from you as though the conversation had never happened
A chill ran down your spine as you hugged Shadow closer. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you turned around.
Tom’s cryptic words echoed in your thoughts. You were halfway to the library’s entrance when you spotted Lucas striding toward you, hands tucked in his pockets, that ever-present grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He seemed completely at ease, as though the world was just a big joke waiting to be told.
“There you are!” he called out in a low voice, somewhat mindful of the library’s strict silence policy. He walked right up to you, his sharp blue eyes scanning your face before flicking over to the spot where Tom was sitting. “I saw you over there, chatting with Riddle.”
“Yeah... Shadow wandered over to him,” you smiled slightly, still not fully calmed down, but Lucas’s presence helped a bit.
Lucas smiled. “Look, I’m just gonna say it: I’ve seen you stare at him at times, and you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Whatever he’s said to you—”
“He said something about not everything that follows you is harmless,” you interrupted him, needing to get it off your chest.
“Okay, stop. That’s freakishly creepy,” Lucas gaped, stealing a glance at Tom. “Just... try to ignore him. Riddle’s either got everyone thinking he’s the hottest thing to walk these halls, or they think he’s bloody weird.”
Your curiosity piqued. “And what do you think?”
Lucas paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the question. His grin returned. “Both.”
You chuckled at his bluntness. “Both?”
You walked out of the library, your book long forgotten on the table you were supposed to be studying at. “Yeah, he’s good looking. I mean, objectively speaking,” Lucas said. “But there’s something about him that’s off. Like, he’s too good at... well, everything. It's unnatural; people are drawn to him, but they’re also... I don’t know, scared of him. You know? Even if they don't want to admit it.”
You nodded, thinking back to how Tom had looked at you - the way his eyes seemed to see right through you. There was definitely something unnerving about him. “He’s strange. Almost like he’s always one step ahead of everyone.”
“Exactly,” Lucas agreed. “It’s like he’s playing a game no one else knows the rules to. Trust me, best to keep your distance.”
“I wasn’t planning on making friends with him,” you said, shifting Shadow in your arms. The cat blinked lazily up at you.
“Good, I’ve got enough trouble without having to rescue you from the dark and mysterious Tom Riddle,” Lucas replied, giving you a reassuring smile.
You let out a laugh. “Thanks, Lucas. I’ll be sure to tell you first if I get in over my head.”
Lucas grinned. “I’ll be there, wand at the ready.”
The two of you started to head toward the common room together, the tension that had been knotted in your chest since your encounter with Tom slowly began to ease. Lucas had a way of making things feel lighter, like no matter how complicated the situation got, he’d find a way to make it less scary.
“Anyway,” Lucas said, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked, “enough about Riddle. Did you get what you came for? Or are we heading back in for round two of ‘Tom the Cat Whisperer’?”
You smirked, shaking your head. “No more rounds with him for today, thanks. I think I’ve had my fill of mysterious brooding for the time being. But I do think I might’ve left my book in there.”
Lucas laughed again, his voice carrying through the halls. “We’ll get it first thing tomorrow. And if you do like him, just don’t go falling for that whole dark-and-mysterious thing. I won’t judge you.”
You rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully. “Please. You know I prefer my friends a little less brooding and a little more… fun.”
“See? That’s the right attitude.” He gave you a wink, his smile warm and genuine. “Stick with me. I’m way more fun than some dark wizard-in-training.”
You couldn’t help but smile back. As strange and intense as things had become, Lucas was a constant source of light. Maybe, just maybe, he’d help keep you grounded as you navigated the dangerous path ahead.
a/n: posted a bit earlier, but umm, i was thinking of naming the cat crookshanks first - so she has a reminder of hermione, harry and ron. but idk :(
alsooooo, i'll probably update on sunday for this serie (loads of homework)
SUMMARY: everything changes for you when snape gives you a certain memory. will you be able to do the task that dumbledore has given you?
WORD COUNT: 3745
GENRE: angst-ish (but not really)
CONTENT WARNING: soulmate & time travel au, english is not my first language
NOT PROOFREAD :D
the corridors of hogwarts were eerily quiet - almost too quiet in the early morning light. you wandered around hogwarts, taking in the atmosphere. it was just how you remembered how life was before the war. but you had to act as if you didn't know, act as if you didn't know your way around hogwarts. your heart was still racing from the overwhelming disorientation of time travel. the walls seemed taller, the stones beneath you felt somewhat smoother. it felt the same but yet so different at the same time.
you had no clue what to do next, the task laid plain ahead of you - find tom riddle and alter the course of his life by becoming his big love. you shook your head, you knew how time travel had a big effect in the timeline. you never took muggle studies - physics - but you knew what this could do. once he sees you, it's done. there's no going back, well it's not like you could turn back whenever you wanted.
but, it was like hermione said, 'no one is supposed to see you' but only this time it was different. if you didn't change tom riddle for the better - you could make him even worse then he was in your time.
"i believe you may be a bit out of place, my dear."
you stopped dead in your tracks, your heart almost leaped out of your chest. the voice was warm, kind, but still serious. you recognized the voice, you turned and saw dumbledore standing there. a somewhat younger version.
you knew he was still a professor in this year, his auburn hair was tinged with a lot of strands of silver, his robes a deep shade of purple. his piercing blue eyes gleamed with curiosity and suspicion as he looked at you. he raised an eyebrow and his lips curled into a gentle, knowing smile. you wanted to slap him, angry for making you do this, while telling you absolutely nothing.
"you look as though you've been wandering these halls for quite some time," he continued, stepping toward you. "and yet, i don't recall seeing you in any of my classes."
you swallowed hard, your mind scrambling for a good answer, but you came up empty handed. dumbledore's gaze was patient, waiting for you to speak.
"uhh... i-" you began, voice shaking softly, but you stopped. what could you say? what were you supposed to say? that you had just traveled back into the past to stop one of his students from becoming the biggest and darkest wizard of all time?
dumbledore's eyes softened, "why don't we take this conversation somewhere a bit more private?" he suggested, his tone gentle. "i have a feeling there's more to your story than a lost stroll through the castle."
without waiting for your response, dumbledore turned around, motioning for you to follow him. you hesitated for a second, but the calmness in his demeanor somehow reassured you. reluctantly, you followed him down the corridor, your footsteps echoing softly in the stillness of the morning.
after a while, you arrived at an empty classroom, the large wooden door creaking as dumbledore pushed it open. sunlight entered through the tall, narrow windows, casting long shadows across the rows of desks. the air was filled with a faint scent of parchment and chalk, just like his.
dumbledore gestured to a chair near the front. "please, sit down. make yourself comfortable."
you did ask he asked, feeling out of place in this familiar yet unfamiliar world. dumbledore remained standing in front of your desk for a moment. studying you with those sharp, calculating eyes. "there is something... remarkable about you," he said quietly, his voice kind. "you're not quite where you're supposed to be, are you?"
you looked at your shoes, you realised you also didn't really look the part to only be lost. "no," you admitted. you knew lying to a man like dumbledore would do you no good. "i'm.. not?" you said unsure.
dumbledore nodded, as if he expected that answer. "time," he mused, his eyes twinkling with understanding. "it has a peculiar way of bending when we least expect it."
your head snapped up, meeting his gaze. he knew. he definitely knew. "how?" you breathed, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself from talking. "how did you-"
dumbledore raised his hand to quiet you, "i have my ways," he smiled. "but more importantly, it seems you have a very important reason for being here."
you swallowed, feeling the enormity of your 'mission' pressed down on you, but in dumbledore's presence, it felt a little less overwhelming - though you were still angry he didn't tell you anything sooner. he waited, giving you space to explain.
after a pause, you spoke again. "i was sent.. to change something. something that will affect the future," you hesitated, unsure how much you were allowed to reveal. "it's about tom riddle."
at the mention of riddle's name, dumbledore's expression didn't change, but you saw the smallest change in his demeanor. his gaze become more focused, and he leaned forward slightly.
"tom", he repeated softly. "yes... i've always known there was something... special about that boy."
special? more like dangerous. you nodded, "if i don't change him, if i can't make him different... the world will fall into darkness. everyone i love, my friends..." you stopped. your parents. you hadn't even thought of them. your heart started banging in your chest, you wanted to go back. tell them that you were grateful for everything, and that you were sorry for leaving them behind out of nowhere.
dumbledore didn't react with surprise, he nodded. "do not worry about your friends or family." he sighed softly. "you have been given a great responsibility. but changing the course of someone's life is no simple task, especially when that person's soul is... so deeply marked."
you looked down at your hands, "i don't even know if it's possible."
for a moment, dumbledore was silent, his gaze fixed on you with empathy. "nothing is impossible, but you must remember, even the darkest of souls have their choices. tom riddle's path has always been his own. you may be able to guide him... but ultimately, it is up to him who or what he becomes."
his words hung in the air, a reminder of what you were facing. "know that, i will be watching, and if you ever need guidance, you know where to find me."
dumbledore had insisted on introducing you to the Headmaster as a transfer student, emphasizing that no one could know the truth. the fewer people involved in the truth, the better.
you made your way through the corridors of hogwarts with dumbledore. students were scattered around, laughing, talking in hushed voices, completely unaware of the darkness that would be coming.
dumbledore said the password to the headmasters office, it was the same as he had. so original. the spiral staircase came into view as the gargoyle's started moving. you followed your former headmaster up the stairs. the office was filled with old books, a large desk, and a few moving portraits on the walls. it was looked almost the same like dumbledore's office.
behind the desk sat headmaster armando dippet, a tall, thin man with kind eyes. "ah, albus," dippet said, rising from his seat to greet him. "what brings you here?"
dumbledore gestured to you. "headmaster, i would like to introduce you our newest transfer student." he gave you a small nod to encourage you to take a step forward. "she's come from beauxbatons and will be joining us for the rest of her schooling."
dippet's eyebrows rose in surprise. "a transfer from beauxbatons? how delightful! we don't often have students join us from abroad." he looked at you. "what is your name, my dear?"
you swallowed, your nerves tightening your throat, "y/n l/n." you smiled at the headmaster, "i'm honored to be here."
"it's always wonderful to have new students join us at hogwarts. the castle can seem quite large and scary at first, but i'm very sure you'll grow accustomed to it in no time," dippet smiled at you.
you forced back a smile. normally, you would love such pleasantries, but now? absolutely not, it felt as if you wanted to throw up.
dumbledore stepped forward, "headmaster, i've already informed y/n of the basic rules and traditions of the school, but i do believe the sorting hat will handle the rest?"
"indeed," dippet nodded, motioning to a nearby shelf where the sorting hat was in its usual place. "no time like the present."
your heart raced when the sorting hat was placed upon your head. you knew what house you had once belonged to, but would it be hte same here? in this time?
"hmm.." the hat murmured after whining about who dared to wake him up. "interesting... very interesting. you're not like the others i've sorted. ever."
you held your breath.
"i see loyalty.. with a lot of bravery." the had mused, "a fierce desire to do what's right, even when it's proven difficult. courage, and there's something more than that... something deeper.."
did it know? you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, huffing out a breath.
"ah," it whispered. "but that is not for me to uncover. your place, however, is clear."
another moment passed, and then the hat shouted, "gryffindor!"
the word rang in your ears, you weren't placed in the same house. your former house was hufflepuff, what changed? the house of loyalty, hard work, and kindness. maybe this could help ground you. most hufflepuffs you knew where, kind (mostly high as well) and helpful. there were always exceptions but, you were happy with that house.
dippet clapped his hands together, clearly pleased. "a gryffindor! a fine choice indeed. you'll find good company there."
dumbledore's expression remained calm. "it seems that your path is set," he said quietly, his eyes twinkling with that wisdom he always had.
as the hat was lifted from your head, you stood up from the stool you had taken a seat on. gryffindor. it was unexpected, but not wrong - or bad. in some way, it made sense for you. you needed to be brave to talk to tom riddle. so, what better house for that than gryffindor?
the headmaster waved his wand, and a piece of parchment floated over to you. "here's your timetable, y/n," he said, handing it over to you. "you'll begin classes immediately. i'm sure the others will help you find your way.
you took the parchment, scanning the schedule, you had loads of free periods, and as always an astronomy class at midnight on a friday night.
"thank you, headmaster," you said quietly, tucking the parchment under your arm.
dippet smiled. "welcome to hogwarts, y/n. i hope your time here will be both enlightening and rewarding."
"i sure hope so," you nodded. rewarding. you could use the reward of going home.
you and dumbledore left the office, going down the staircase the air felt cooler. dumbledore walked beside you, in silence.
"so, you've been placed in gryffindor," dumbledore broke the silence. "a good choice. you'll find community of loyalty and bravery there."
you nodded, "i didn't expect it."
"sometimes," dumbledore said with a smile," the unexpected paths are the ones that lead us exactly where we need to go. you have been given a second chance, in more ways than one."
"and remember," he said softly. "the fewer people who know your true purpose, the better. riddle must never know why you're really here."
you nodded.
when you stepped inside the gryffindor common room, you immediately felt the warmth. there was a soft red glow from the lanterns, walls were lined with rewards and books. the smell of fresh cookies hung in the air.
a group of students were clustered around a table and looked up as you entered. it was already early in the morning, you wondered why most students were up this time in the morning. the faces of the students were curious but friendly, a wave of relief washed over you. before you could take another step, a girl with curly dark hair and a wide smile broke away from the group.
"hi!" she greeted enthusiastically, her eyes open wide with interest. "you must be the new transfer student! i'm maeve, maeve miller."
you tried your best not to grimace, as you forced a smile. "i'm y/n l/n." the realisation of having to meet and make new friends downed on you even harder.
"professor dippet had owled us. we were all curious, y'know? transfer students aren't that common. you're lucky it's the start of the school year!"
you smiled at maeve's happiness, but you were still baffled at how fast news spreads in hogwarts. i mean you literally just left dippet's office.
"i'll make sure you fit right in, i'll show you to the dormitory," maeve smiled.
you followed her to a spiral staircase, as you walked with maeve, she chatted happily about the house traditions, the upcoming quidditch match, and the best way to sneak extra food from the kitchen.
once you reached the dormitory, you found yourself in a circular room with soft, warm lighting. you saw only one vacant bed - in the middle - with your belongings neatly placed beside it. a suitcase you had recognized, though it felt strange seeing it here. you basically came empty handed here, so how are all your belongings here then?
"how..?" you trailed off, confused.
maeve, caught your confusion. "professor dumbledore's pretty amazing, isn't he? he made sure your belongings were here from yesterday evening. must've used some magic to get your stuff here so quickly."
you nodded, even more confused. you didn't even know you had to time travel yesterday. you had no idea how, and you didn't want to think too much about it before it might drive you mad.
"so, obviously, that's your bed," maeve pointed towards the bed with your belongings on. "and this is mine," she added, pointing to the bed next to yours. "we'll be neighbors! oh, and these are your other roommates."
two other girls approached, one with long red hair and freckles, and the other with short brown curls. they introduced themselves as alicia and lilith, both offering you warm welcoming smiles.
"nice to meet you," alicia said, while lilith gave you a small, shy wave. "it's so exciting to have someone new join us, especially in our fifth year!"
"i'm glad to be here!" you lied right through your teeth. "well, we're heading to breakfast in a bit if you want to join us," alicia offered. "but i'm sure you'll want to settle in first."
"yeah, you guys go ahead, i'll catch up with you in a while," you replied with a nod and a smile.
as the girls made their way out, leaving you alone, you felt disoriented. this was all going too fast. you needed a moment to yourself, normally you would've already been in your last year. you made your way over to the small adjoining bathroom. the light was bright. you stepped in front of the large mirror, ready to see your face full of scars and dirt you got from the war.
but no, your fingers trembled slightly as you reached up to touch your face. staring back at you was a younger version of yourself - exactly as you had looked in your own fifth year at hogwarts. your features were softer, untouched by the weight of the war. your eyes looked brighter.. they hadn't seen the horrors that awaited. no pair of eyes should see a war go down.
it was all surreal, like looking at a stranger. it was clear the potion had not only sent you back in time, but also transformed you to match the age you needed to be.
for a moment, the reflection blurred as tears welled up in your eyes. you had been thrust back into your younger self, in a world you didn't belong in. you took a deep breath, swallowing the fears and tears away. you could do this. you had to do this. for your friends and family.
the first day at hogwarts felt surreal. the familiar sounds of students chatting in the great hall, the smell of fresh made foods and the sight of enchanted candles floating above made you feel like you had stepped back into a dream. you knew there was a big chance that tom riddle was here, in the same room as you.
but before you could worry about him, you had to get through your first day as just another transfer student.
you found yourself sitting at the gryffindor table with your roommates and their friends. "so, what was beauxbatons like? i've heard it's incredibly fancy, with all those grand fountains everywhere," maeve spoke - a good friend from lilith you noted. you could see how she was the one who made lilith blossom open as a shy person.
you hesitated for a second, remembering dumbledore's warning to keep it simple. you gave her a small smile, "it's different from hogwarts. especially since there are a lot more boys here then i'm used to."
lucas, a boy with a head full of black curls looked up, "hogwarts has it's charm, luckily you were sorted into gryffindor, you seem like a cool person and everyone knows it's the best house."
alicia was flipping to your timetables, trying to figure out if you had any classes with your gryffindor friends. "we've got defense against the dark arts first thing! i'm hoping for some practical lesson, today. spells maybe," alicia's eyes widened with excitement.
your stomach dropped slightly after lucas mentioned there was a big chance we'd have a class with the slytherins and a few ravenclaws. given riddle's obsessive interest in the subject, there was no doubt he wouldn't be in this class.
you offered a casual nod, "defence against the dark arts should be interesting..."
after the five of you finished breakfast and gathered your books and made your way to your first class of the day. the halls were busy with students, most of whom paid little attention to you, though a few curious glanced lingered.
once you reached DADA classroom, you found yourself standing at the doorway. you hoped for a normal teacher, when you were in hogwarts every year there was this teacher with the weirdest background ever. the classroom was large, with desks arranged i neat rows, the walls were lined with various defensive artifacts.
you let your eyes wander around the room. there, near the middle, sat tom riddle.
he was exactly as you had imagined - tall, dark-haired, and composed. his sharp features and cold eyes stood out even among your classmates. he exuded an air of authority and confidence. the other students around him seemed to ignore him, you wondered why. were they scared of him, or did they think he was a weirdo?
you quickly tore your gaze away from the back of his head, before he sensed you staring. "come on," maeve whispered, "we don't want you to be late on your first day."
you nodded, and walked towards a vacant seat next to lucas. the professor was a stern looking man, with a neatly trimmed beard. he immediately launched into a discussion of the most advanced spells, his tone brisk and matter-of-fact.
it was pretty hard to focus with the presence of tom riddle in the room. every now and then, you dared to glance at him, watching as he listened intently, his expression focused and serious. you had no idea how you were supposed to change him. he already seemed so… unreachable.
halfway through the class, the professor called for everyone to pair up for dueling practice. maeve grabbed your arm, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“partners?” she asked eagerly.
“of course,” you replied, grateful for the distraction.
you and maeve moved to an open space in the classroom, pulling out your wands as the professor demonstrated a series of defensive spells. you followed along, trying to keep your movements smooth and controlled. thankfully, the practice went well, and maeve seemed impressed.
“you’re really good!” she said after successfully blocking one of your spells. “you must have had excellent teachers at beauxbatons.”
you smiled and nodded at her praise. as you practiced with maeve, you couldn’t help but notice tom a few spaces away, dueling effortlessly with a slytherin boy. his movements were precise, fluid, as if he had been born with a wand in his hand. it was clear to anyone watching that he was far more advanced than most students his age.
finally, when the class came to an end, and you packed up your things, trying to avoid looking at him as you left the room with maeve, lilith, alicia and lucas.
“next up is transfiguration,” alicia said, checking her timetable as you all walked down the corridor. “i’m actually looking forward to that one.”
the rest of the day passed in a similar blur. transfiguration was more manageable — professor dumbledore, who taught the class, gave you a small, knowing smile when he saw you, though he treated you no differently than the other students. you worked on basic transformations alongside your friends, though your mind kept drifting back to defense against the dark arts and the presence of tom riddle.
potions came next, with professor slughorn as the teacher. he welcomed you to the class with open arms, making sure you had everything you needed. it was weird, since you already met him just when he was a bit older. lucas was quick to show you around the room, helping you find ingredients and sharing tips for the potion you were brewing.
“slughorn’s a bit of a collector,” alicia whispered as you carefully added a pinch of powdered unicorn horn to your cauldron. “he loves students with… potential. but he’s nice, at least.”
"he's even got a club," lilith quipped in quietly.
by the time you reached your last class of the day, charms, the exhaustion of trying to keep up appearances had settled deep in your bones. yet, your new friends kept the energy alive. alicia was quick with jokes, and lucas had a dry, witty humor that balanced maeve's enthusiasm. and lilith was just there, enjoying her friends' energy.
a/n: quick chapterrrr, part three will be coming out next week (probably or sooner)
Lucius wasn't always so cold, he used to be warm and gentle, but that was when he didn't feel as if the entire world was on his shoulders. As a child, Lucius feared his father because of the way he treated others, he was so rude, inconsiderate and blunt. He would never show any emotion other than anger and indifference, Lucius understands why now. It was the only way to keep his family safe, out of the eye of the dark lord that they were so unfortunately close too. It breaks his heart when his son, Draco, flinches at his touch. He wishes it didn't have to be this way, that they could just be a regular family. Sadly, his wishes would always just be dreams.
!! ALL CHARACTERS AGED UP TO 21 !!
robin
nightwing
dick grayson
superboy
conner kent
kid flash
wally west
artemas
artemas crock
miss martian
megan morse
red arrow
roy harper
aqualad
kaldur'ahm
red robin
tim drake
beast boy
garfield logan
!! She, mattheo riddle !!
Summary: Mattheo Riddle, your beloved ex-boyfriend, sees you trying to move on. He won't let you, scaring away any potential new guys.
pairing: mattheo riddle x reader
word count: 5.7k.
warning: reader is a malfoy, described to be pale with long hair. smoking of weed. partial blaise zabini x reader. Gore, killing of pets, writing with blood, spelling with intestines, crucio used. smut
Golden rubbers in these denim pockets.On my waist theres a black glock
New girl moved on the block
"You don't have to do that for me, Pansy."
You denied her offer, it would be too much to ask. But the fact that she went out of her way just to tell you, made you smile, pink lips pulled into a grin as you stared up at her.
"You're cool, Y/N/N. There aren't many cool people in this school, so when I find one, they have to be my friend."
She said it as if it was factual, making you giggle softly. You shake your head, denying the compliment.
"Whatever you say, pansy."
The girl grinned, standing up from where she sat at the end of your bed. You watched her curiously as she searched the room, seemingly looking for something.
"Looking for something?"
You asked, confused as to why she had got up so abruptly. Pansy nodded, kneeling down on the wooden flooring beside her bed, pulling something out from underneath it.
"My shoes."
She sits on the ground, opening up a cardboard box, revealing a pair of black, brand new ugg boots. This only confuses you further, why would she need her shoes?
"The boys are usually in the common room, we're gonna go pay them a little visit."
She must've seen the curiosity written on your face, answering your unspoken question. At this, you scramble to get out of bed.
"Pansy, I look like shit!"
There's panic evident in your tone as you stand in front of the vanity, picking apart your appearance. You grab the nearest hair brush, running it through your hair. Not that you needed too, being a Malfoy meant no matter what, you always had perfect hair.
"Girl, look at me."
She deadpanned, making you glance at her through the mirror, where she still sat on the floor in her green pajamas and unbrushed hair, watching as you get ready.
"Besides, you look hot."
She says bluntly, shooting you a flirty wink as you caught her gaze, her green eyes boring into yours. You roll your eyes playfully in response, placing the brush back onto the dresser, cheeks turning rosy pink at her romantic demeanor.
She gets up from the floor, using the bed to help her stand. You turn, walking towards your bed to grab your previously discarded sweatshirt.
---
On your way to the common room, Pansy speaks up, her voice quietly echoing through the hall.
"Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't met more of Draco's friends."
You hum softly in agreement. Draco was popular, you knew that much, yet you'd only ever met two of his friends, one of which was the girl you walked beside.
The other... Lets just say, he's a big part of why you don't go home much anymore.
"I preferred spending my holidays at Beaux Batons. When I'm at home, my parent's usually task me with running around after the dark lord, doing all of his chores and stuff like that."
She grimaces, remembering just how close your family was to Voldemort. Her family was also involved with the dark lord, but nowhere near as close to him as your parents were. She's never even seen Voldemort, so the thought of being in your place, stuck alone in a room with him for most of the time, scared her.
Often, Draco would tell her stories about the man, 9/10 his tales would shake her to the core, further adding onto the evil perception around the lord. Plus, the things that he made Draco do, knowing that the boy wanted no part in such gruesome activities- but had no choice but to participate, greatly angered Pansy, who knew just how much it truly shakes her boyfriend.
So, if you were stuck, doing all of the dark lords bidding, Pansy could only imagine the horrible things that you've likely seen, maybe even had to do.
Seeing her change in mood, you think it's best to add on something that would allude being around Voldemort, 24/7, wasn't actually that bad.
"He's not that bad of a guy, personality wise. His motives just aren't that great."
You tell her softly, as if asking her to cut the horrible man some slack, after all he'd done, killing innocent people for his own, selfish reason.
From the look on her face, you can tell she doesn't want to continue the conversation.
Mentally, You sigh in relief. If you talked any longer about he-who-shall-not-be-named, you'd probably end up spilling the real reason you transferred.
---
Finally, you both reach the bottom of the stairs and Pansy goes to open the door, but not before turning to you with a reassuring smile.
"I can't promise that they don't bite, but if they do, just know they don't mean to."
She spoke as if she were a poet, her sentence a metaphor of it's own. She had pre-apologized for her friends possible actions, in the case that they did say anything rude, or insensitive, though if they did offend you, Draco would have each of their heads on a stick by the morning. Silently, you thank her for the warning, sending a nod her way. She doesn't see your movement, occupied with opening the heavy dungeon door.
"Thanks."
You muttered, following her into the dimly lit room. Instantly, a wave of coldness washed over you, the fireplace doing next to nothing in keeping the space heated. You glance towards the culprit, huge windows line the stone walls, condensation dripping down the glass, almost blocking your view into the black lake, not that you could see much inside of it's darkness.
The place reminded you of home, with it's intimidating aura and leather couches, the only difference was, the Malfoy manor wasn't green. Green, clearly handmade, blankets were strung over most surfaces, if not draped over a couch, it was folded on a table, ready for the students to use.
It was certainly a prettier sight than the bland, blue walls of beaux batons.
Aside from a group of boys, lounging around the fireplace, the room was void of any life, the sound of yours and Pansy's footsteps echoing through-out the quiet, the only other sound being their voices, barely any louder than the crackling of the burning wood.
Pansy strode over, confidence in her steps, as if she had a purpose to be there. You followed behind, hands shoved into the pockets of your grey trackpants.
"Piss off, pansy."
Somebody spoke with an accent, you couldn't quite place where it was from, but you knew that you'd heard something similar, before. In the corner of your view, you can see Pansy roll her eyes before leaning back, sitting on the arm rest closest to her before an arm snakes around her waist, presumably your brothers.
"I've come to introduce you to my new best friend."
You hear Draco groan from where he sat, on the couch, behind pansy. You let out a scoff, stepping closer to the group as Pansy stifles a giggle.
"It's great to know that I'm appreciated, Draco."
Your voice catches the attention of the boys, their attention shifting to where you stood, your arms crossed over your chest.
You looked almost angelic, the fireplace casting a gentle glow onto your pale figure, arms crossed over your chest, your long hair gently cascading down your back.
You were... pretty?
From the angle of where you stood, their faces were perfectly in view, all looking semi-familiar, probably from when you'd met their parents, once or twice.
There was Theodore Nott, an Italian bloke with dead looking eyes. Lorenzo Berkshire, a charming boy with a sharp jawline, and Blaise Zabini, who always looked uninterested and unamused.
You finish checking them out, before having to do a double take. Mattheo wasn't there and you knew that he was supposed to be, since he was your brothers closest friend.
You mentally curse yourself for looking for him, forcing your gaze to pansy, who motions at a spot between Nott and Zabini.
You glance towards them, to see if they were okay with you sitting near them. Blaise nodded and you stepped towards them, Theodore stayed quiet, but made no move to stop you as you got closer.
You could feel somebody look at your figure as you sat down, their gaze leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.
"Boys, this is my little sister, Y/N."
Draco introduced you and Theodore's head snapped towards you, it looked as if a piece of puzzle had fallen into place inside of his head. You look at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as to why he had that look in his eyes.
"Enzo."
The boy sat beside Draco said, holding out a hand for you to shake. You rip your gaze away from Theodore, instead giving Lorenzo a warm smile as you leant forward, shaking his hand.
Once again, somebody's eyes raked over your body, sending shivers down your spine. You let go of Enzo's hand, leaning back into the plush sofa.
"That's Theodore-"
Lorenzo nodded towards the boy on your left, the one who had who seemed bewildered to learn your name. He continued to say nothing, just watching your interaction with Enzo.
"-and the one staring you down, is Blaise."
At this, a harsh shove was sent to Lorenzo's shoulder, Draco's lip curling up in disgust as he scowled at Lorenzo, who raised his hands in surrender.
"Nobody will be staring down my sister."
He stated, a threatening tone in his voice as he sat back in his chair, leaning against the plush cushion, clearly not happy with Lorenzo's words.
Draco would never let another one of his friends touch you, not after what happened last time. They were all a bunch of players, anyways, you were worth more than any of their hoes.
Pansy shot you a knowing look, as if to say, 'they already have.' In response, you grinned softly, shaking your head as you glanced away.
---
You lay in bed that night, propped up on your side to look at Pansy as she spoke, the two of you gossiping about anything and everything.
"So... You find any of them cute?"
You didn't say anything, hiding your face in the pillows so that she couldn't see the blush on your cheeks, the movement telling her all she needed to know.
"Who!"
She squealed, excitedly. She loved talking about girly things like this, not really having a lot of female friends after she started dating Draco, surrounding herself with his mates who, sadly, didn't like to gossip.
"Zabini."
You said sheepishly, voice barely audible, muffled by your pillow. Pansy grinned, egging you on as she said.
"Oh, Blaise is totally into you, I swear I saw him looking at your ass!"
She been plotting on my brown cock
By now, the first week of school had been and gone, with no signs of Mattheo, the boy that you were dreading to see.
If anything, his absence was only making it worse, under all of the circumstances- like being the new girl in his friend group, getting sorted into the same house and even being in most of his classes.
You should have seen him by now, it was a miracle that you hadn't.
However, you tried not to think about him. Which was hard, nearly impossible, so you'd distracted yourself, thoughts of Blaise Zabini plaguing your mind.
He was hot, gorgeous even and the two of you got along well, in-fact, so well that he strolled up to you in your shared potions class. His hands in his pockets as he, casually, asked if you wanted to 'hang.'
Just the two of you, alone in his dorm. Which everyone knew was basically code for, 'I'm trying to fuck.'
In response, you sheepishly nodded. You'd been asked out before, so many times that you couldn't even count, but none of the guys that asked you out were cute, or respectable, like he was.
Plus, if yours and Blaise's relationship did blossom into something more, he was the son of a pureblood death eater, meaning that your father would, hopefully, approve.
But in all reality, there was only one boy that your father wanted you to date, or in other words, give a second chance.
Not that you would ever, ever get with Mattheo Riddle again, no matter how much your father wanted you too.
After Blaise had left your table, Pansy came back, lips curled into a smirk, having watched the interaction between you and your crush.
The entire class, she pestered you about it, doing annoying things, like drawing 'Y/I + B.Z' on your paper, or shaping her hands into a heart and putting it over her eye, so that it was around you and Blaise.
It was at lunch when you finally gave in, the two of you planning to spend the rest of the day sitting by the black lake, so you could fill her in without fear of being overheard, you were also due for a gossip session, so the hangout would be solving two problems at once.
Although, as soon as you left the castle, you could feel it. A pair of eyes staring lasers into your back, watching as you ventured towards the black lake.
You couldn't recall how many times you had glanced over your shoulder, looking for something out of place, anything that could possibly be giving you the feeling of being watched.
But to no avail, until you and pansy started talking about how well you fit into their little group. She mentioned that there was still another member, who's yet to come but will be at dinner tonight.
You sat with your knees to your chest, your back facing the black lake, probably not a good idea as anything could jump out and grab you, without you knowing in time. But it was worth it, as long as you were filled in on all the Hogwarts drama.
Pansy sat across from you, her legs crossed as she rambles on, telling you funny stories about the boys.
"You know, I think you fit in really well, With the boys and I."
You smile at her honesty, you hadn't really thought about that until now, but you did slide into the group pretty easily, your jokes always at the right time, making everyone laugh, knowing with one look how was somebody was feeling, though you did that outside of your friends, as well.
"There is actually a 6th member to our little group, you'll meet him tonight."
Horror, which you feigned as surprise, crossed your face. You'd known that Mattheo had to come back at some point, but that didn't mean you dreaded it any less.
"W-what?"
Pansy dismissed your odd behavior, assuming that you were just confused as to who she was talking about.
"Apparently Mattheo was sick for the fist couple of weeks, couldn't catch the train with the rest of us."
Hearing his name left a bad feeling in your stomach and suddenly, you didn't feel like going to dinner tonight.
"You know him?"
She asked, noticing the uncomfortable look on your face. You shook your head so fast you might've given yourself whiplash, hoping she wouldn't notice, you cleared your throat, trying to get rid of the anxious lump rising in it.
"Just... heard some stuff."
You lied through your teeth, not ready to tell the girl about your bad past involving Mattheo. Well, it wasn't completely untrue, you'd definitely heard some pretty horrible things involving the boy, you'd also experienced it first-hand.
"Fair enough."
Pansy stated, shrugging.
"He's a little scary, but he's not all that bad."
You nodded, glancing away from her, opting to stare into the darkness of the black lake instead.
---
Not much happened at dinner. Sure, seeing Mattheo for the first time, since you were fifteen, was... Weird.
He looked different, in a good way. His face was more scarred than when you last saw it, but his wounds were in all of the right places. His lips were slightly chapped, glossy from his spit and his skin was tanner, not holding the same paleness he used to shar with his father, as a child. His eyes were no longer brown, having darkened to a pitch black, his pupils barely visible.
You only knew this because he had been staring at you during all of dinner. While everyone else was eating, his eyes were on you.
The kind glint they once held was gone, now holding a look of stoic, coldness as he watched you pick at the garlic bread on your plate.
You could barely eat, hyper-aware of the fact that you had Mattheo's full, undivided attention.
You tried to rid your thoughts of him, focusing on the conversation around you. Which, ironically, was just Draco talking to, or about, Mattheo, who would only respond with short answers, still not tearing his gaze away from you.
It had started to irk you, was he seriously still hung up on it? It happened over three years ago, the both of you should be over the situation by now.
You told yourself that there was another reason, not wanting to think about the bad decisions that your younger self had made.
You probably just had something on your face, or maybe, a bit of food stuck in your teeth.
When Blaise tugged on your hand, pulling you out of your seat to go to his dorm with him, you silently thanked every god that you could think of. Mentally noting that you owed the boy a favor, not that he had helped you out on purpose.
In your departure, you missed the death glare that Mattheo had given to Blaise, said boy quirking a brow towards Mattheo, confused as to why he was staring lasers into him.
Theo took a sip from his gauntlet, filled with lemonade, he regrets not telling Blaise about you and Mattheo. As much as he liked you and Blaise together, he was scared that the boy was going to get caught in the crossfire of your ex. Which Theodore knew about, from when him and Mattheo had shared a blunt on a particularly rainy day.
---
Mattheo had laid across the bed, his head hanging off the side, poorly rolled joint between his lips.
Theodore was his most talkative self when high, his quiet demeanor completely out the door. Mattheo however, was the complete opposite. When intoxicated his extroverted self could only ever cough out one or two words.
"Once, when I was in muggle school, there was this one blonde girl, who would always dance in the rain. I had a crush on her, I think. I don't know, honestly, I can't remember. But, anyways. I would always watch her-"
Theo rambled on, sitting with his legs laid out, leaning against the headboard, next to where his bong sat on the nightstand. His hand flew around as he spoke, making quick gestures to accentuate what he was talking about.
"Creep."
Mattheo said, his face void of any emotion, making Theo unsure of whether the boy was joking or not.
"Shut the fuck up, Mattheo. Don't rain on my parade just because you've never had any type of love in your life."
Once again, Mattheo cut in, eliciting a grumble from Theodore, but making him wonder about what Mattheo could possibly have to add.
From what Theo knew about the dark lord's son, Mattheo was practically incapable of loving, it was rare for him to show any emotion other than angry. It was rare that he'd laugh if it wasn't at someone else's expense, in other words, he found amusement in hurting other people, much like his father.
But, Theodore knew that Mattheo had next to nothing in common with his father. Then again, Theo only knew of Voldemort through what his parents told him, being death eaters they saw the dark lord often. From what he'd heard, Theodore could determine that Mattheo and Voldemort were nothing alike.
"I have."
He spoke, his tone un-describable , it wasn't one of anger or sadness, but, it wasn't happy or disappointed either.
Theo's face was one of surprise, his brows raised and eyes, still redder than a tomato, widening.
The boy let out a deep sigh, bringing his blunt to his parted lips, deeply inhaling as Theodore sat patiently, eager to hear about Mattheo's love life, or lack there of.
"I was 15, she broke up with me, didn't want to do long distance. She was going to beaux batons, I wasn't."
He kept it short and simple, not wanting to tire himself out with trying to string a sentence together, he couldn't function properly when high. Theodore hummed, in a tone that said, 'continue.' He could tell there was more to the story, that there were unsaid words on the tip of Mattheo's tongue.
"I... I was angry, worse than you've ever seen me. I just, didn't understand why she'd want to leave me. Still don't."
Theo nods along, ushering the boy to hurry up and get to the point.
"She's my soulmate, That's rare to find. So, I tried to make her stay. I wanted- no, need her to be around me. I- uh, I crucio'd her cat, made her watch."
---
Blaise collapsed back onto his bed, sighing tiredly before propping himself onto his elbows to look at you. "Come, sit."
He nodded to the space beside him, eyes trailing over your figure as you moved to sit.
You sat next to him, feet hanging over the edge of the bed. He chuckled at your movement, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion, not sure what he was laughing at.
He lays back down, patting his lap softly, motioning for you to straddle him. You rip your gaze away from him, a blush rising to your cheeks.
Noticing your embarrassment, he placed his hands on your hips, grabbing them softly to pull you onto him.
You stare down at him, perched atop of his lap. He looks at you, as if you're a riddle he can't figure out.
"You're inexperienced?"
He says it more like a statement, rather than a question. Sheepishly, you nod and Blaise smirks softly, drawing circles on the small of your back.
"Surprising..."
He trails off, behind you, there was a movement outside of the window. His gaze hardened, thinking that it was someone breaking into his dorm. But then, he remembers that the dungeon is underwater, meaning that it was probably just a fish swimming past. Something like that, anyways.
You, on the other hand, are busy admiring his face. Resisting the urge to run your hands over the curve of his jaw, or the soft slope of his nose.
The feeling of being watched still hadn't left, you knew it wouldn't, that it was just your brain being paranoid because of Mattheo.
"Being Draco's sister, I thought you'd live up to his reputation as a player."
He spoke, but not before doing a double-take of the window. It was true, Draco is notorious for being a man-whore, or at least he was before he started dating pansy.
"You know, I'm not completely innocent."
You said, catching his attention. You looked into his eyes, only to find his gaze fixed on your bottom lip, where your teeth bit into the plushness, nervously.
"I had a boyfriend, when I was 15."
He raises his eyebrows, mocking surprise. There's a teasing tone in his eyes, as if he's egging you on, to say more about this 'boyfriend.'
"Didn't turn out?"
A rhetorical question. If it had turned out, you'd still be together, but you were here, sitting on Blaise's lap, completely oblivious to the boner you'd given him.
"I was going to Beaux Batons, didn't think long distance would work."
You shook your head before speaking, purposefully leaving out the part that still haunted you.
The reason you couldn't sleep at night, laying awake in bed, the image of your childhood pet, sprawled out on the floor, guts on display, blood used to draw hearts around it, 'M + Y/I'
"Fair."
Blaise's hands moved from your hips, trailing up your waist, pulling you closer to him. You fall against his chest, a gasp leaving your parted lips. He uses this to his advantage, pressing his mouth to yours, messily kissing you.
After a moment of surprise, you kiss back, attempting to go just as fast and needy as he is, but he bites your bottom lip, just as he had seen your own teeth do just a few seconds ago. Feeling the cushion of your flesh between his teeth, he moans softly, the sound scratching an itch in your brain, dampening your panties.
He slips his tongue into your mouth, instantly asserting dominance with the way he searched around.
He drops you onto the bed beside him, rolling over so that he was on top of you, without breaking the kiss.
His knee split your legs apart, your clit rubbing against the fabric of his slacks, a whine escaping your mouth, into his, at the sensation. He swallows the sound, running his tongue over the back of your teeth.
Last night, I slept over hers.
A forearm is rested either side of your head, your eyes tracing over the veins that trailed up to his biceps, usually soft looking, but now flexed as he hovered over you, staring down at you with an intensity in his brown eyes.
"You want this?"
The question caught you off-guard, he had you practically writhing underneath him and he stopped to ask you for consent? Total baby daddy material.
You whimpered, "Blaise, P- please." The sound of his name falling from your lips makes him let out a shaky breath, half-way through a moan.
Pressing a soft kiss to your lips, he aligns himself with your entrance, slipping the tip between your soaked folds, you gasp softly, his size taking a moment too get used too.
"Fuck... you're so tight, baby."
It doesn't take long for you to get acquainted with his size, needily grinding down onto his cock, to show that you were ready.
He glides in and out of your canal, each thrust agonizingly slow. He clearly just wanted to get a reaction out of you,
During sex, I overheard.
Clouded by lust, Blaise almost missed the movement in the corner of the room. His brows pulled into a furrow, he went from leaning on his forearms to his hands, craning his neck to look behind him.
"Blaise... what's wrong?"
Your voice had a whiny tone to it, the sound reminding Blaise of what he was here for. Taking one last glance around the dorm, before he turned back to you.
"Nothing."
Blaise placed a hand under your thigh, pulling it up to be pinned against the bed. This newfound angle lets Blaise bury himself deeper inside of you, planning to make you moan so loud that he won't be able to hear any other noises.
Once again, he thrusts into you, the tip of his cock instantly hitting that spongy place in your pussy.
A sword sliced the air, I pulled out the na-na.
"Stupefy."
A voice whispered through the air, a flash of red flying past Blaise's head, just narrowly missing him.
Under his breath, Mattheo lets out a frustrated groan. He re-adjusts his stance, moving to point his wand more specifically at Blaise.
Rolled off the bed then shot back, paow-paow.
In the blink of an eye, Blaise had slipped out of you. If it weren't for the intensity of the situation, you would've whimpered at the loss of feeling filled.
His left hand held his wand, pointing it at the intruder. The right one scrambled to make himself look decent, tucking his rock hard member back into his pants.
"Sectumsempra!"
You flinch, the sound of Mattheo's voice not only surprising you, but making you scared, as well.
A white light illuminates the room, hitting Blaise square in the chest before he could react.
He dropped to the floor, an assortment of cuts sprouting open on every inch of his skin.
You lifted yourself off the bed, scrambling to kneel beside Blaise. Your eyes rake over his wounds, which were only multiplying by the minute.
Your face held a fearful expression, scared of what Mattheo may be capable of. But, that doesn't stop you from looking up at him, lip quivering as you beg him to stop.
"M- Mattheo, stop! P- please, this isn't funny!"
Mattheo's face was devoid of any emotion, although he had the ghost of a smirk on his lips, as i fhe was proud of himself.
"Mattheo, please!"
Mattheo took note of the way you looked up at him, your doe eyes big and pleading, a slight sheen over them, a sign that you were on the verge of tears, clearly out of worry for Blaise.
Truthfully, he hadn't meant to hurt Blaise. He was just checking up on you, to make sure that the boy wasn't hurting you, or making you uncomfortable.
He just hadn't expected to find Blaise balls deep inside of you.
Mattheo tried to hold it in, he really did, but he just couldn't stand watching anyone else touch you, talk to you, or even just be near you, especially in the way you were with Blaise.
Blood on the sheets, probably spilling from my gash.
Blaise's crimson blood dripped all over the floor boards, seeing the mess, Mattheo muttered the counter curse. Causing an end to the whimpering of Blaise.
Mattheo watched as you gently stroked Blaise's face, soothing the boy. After seeing this, he quickly departed, unable to watch you worry after someone else.
Looked out the glass, se him sprinting on the grass,
A real ninja with the blade and the mask,
got them gold ninja stars and red supreme nunchuks.
Blaise hissed, the alcohol you were dabbing onto his cuts stinging him. You sat on the sink, he's stood between your thighs, gripping them every time it hurt.
Now she tryna patch me up, but
Girl, I was just trying to get a nut bust.
His blood stained your pale skin, dripping down your fingers. You cupped his jaw, using it to tilt his head to the side, giving you access to a cut underneath his ear.
Neither of you had spoke for the last five minutes, a pregnant silence between you both. You pressed a soft kiss to the wound before placing a plaster over the damaged skin.
"I'm so sorry, Blaise."
He shakes his head, as if to tell you that it was alright. He watches as you care for him, making sure that he was okay.
"If that's your ex, you should probably own a pistol."
There's a tone of honesty in his voice, making you debate whether or not to tell him that trying to get rid of Mattheo wasn't worth it.
But, I'm guessing its just wiser to exit with the dude.
After returning to your dorm, you sink into the bath, pink bubbles clinging to your skin.
It takes a good amount of scrubbing, but finally, you get the red off of your skin, a floral scented soap taking it's place.
The hot water relaxes your muscles, your back de-stiffening. You try to ignore what had just happened with Blaise and Mattheo, but it plagues your mind. Mattheo's behavior provoking a disturbing feeling in your core, one that your sure you shouldn't be having.
The blinds wide open so he can see you in the dark when you're sleeping,
Naked body, fresh out the shower.
Pansy wasn't in the room, so you assume that she planned to spend the night with your brother, the thought making you cringe.
The curtains were wide open, the view of the black lake crystal clear, the movement of the fish swimming casting shadows in your room.
You adorned your body in a pair of skimpy underwear, a matching bralette just barely covering your bust.
Uh, and you touch yourself after hours.
Your fingers curled inside of your canal, failing to reach the spot where you needed them most. A whine escaped your lips, hips bucking up into your palm uselessly, trying to push your small digits deeper.
Ain't no man allowed in your bedroom, You're sleeping alone in bed.
Your movements paused, the gaze of an unknown pair of eyes trailed over your body, replicating the feeling of ice sliding over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
Chills crept up your spine, eyes widening as you registered what was happening. On one hand, you were concerned. On the other, however, it only encouraged you to chase the orgasm that you were so desperate for, especially now that you had an audience.
A whine escaped your lips as you pulled your fingers out, leaving you achingly empty. Slowly, you sat up, knees pressing into the mattress as you scramble to grab your pillow.
You pushed the plushness underneath your aching heat, needily grinding down onto the cotton once it was situated, making you let out a moan.
But check your window, He's at the window.
You rode the pillow as if your life depended on it, breathing shallowly as you bobbed your hips up and down. Your eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to deal with the pleasure, your back arched to the roof as you desperately chased your high, head thrown back as the pillows seam rubs against your swollen clit, making you whine softly.
Your movements grow slower, sloppier as you near your high, knees starting to give out, jaw going slack as inaudible moans slip past your lips. Your head falls forward, eyes opening as your hips stutter down onto the soft foam between your thighs.
You had blurry vision, but it wasn't nearly fuzzy enough to hide the reflection of your window, a figure stood at the foot of your bed, his brown- no, black eyes locked onto your face, rather than your body.
The sight of him did something to your body, the knot in your stomach unravelling itself. You couldn't look away from him, your gaze locked onto his face as your movements halted, you watched as his eyes flickered down to the mess between your thighs, a smirk pulling at the sides of his mouth.
You weren't sure how to feel about him, on one hand, he was so... Whats the word? Smoking hot, he was so smoking hot. On the other hand, however, he both shook you to the core and had you wrapped around his finger. It was crazy how much of an effect he had over you, even without saying any words. With every passing moment, you could feel your resolve slipping and your need for him in, every way possible, growing stronger. You knew you shouldn't, but if he kept this whole 'mysterious' thing up, you were sure to fall again.
You panted softly, basking in the afterglow of your release, the exhaustion crashing into you like a truck. You fell forward, onto the plushness of your bed, forehead pressed into the headboard. Shame washes over you as you reach down, pulling the cushion up to join the rest of your pillows. The velvet is soaked with your scent, emitting a sweet musk into the empty room.
You feel an urge, a need to see if Mattheo was still in the dorm, you told yourself it was just out of curiosity, but really you hoped he had stayed. Weakly, you lifted yourself off of the mattress, peeking over your shoulder.
Gone. He was gone, the foot of your bed was empty aside your school shoes. His absence made the realization sink in,
What the fuck was that?
----A/N
I wrote this like 2 months ago, I did plan to finish it but lost motivation. I will make a part 2, if anyone wants one. If you've already read this, I have updated the ending a couple of times, for more suspense.
titsay
vaporwave
discoholicmusic
jacobvanloon
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izzy806
