reading-wh0re - Tumblr blog

reading-wh0re · 2 months ago

Text

HELL YEAH I WAS JUST LOOKING FOR JAKE FICS UGHHHH BABE I LOVE YOU

The forbidden sister

Harry Potter series

*pairing: frat gryffondor boy Jake x gryffondor Girl

*trope: brother's best friend

*synopsis: Being Heeseung’s sister at Hogwarts has always meant only one thing: to be untouchable. No one dares to approach, no one dares to try... No one but Jake Sim, his best friend, also Gryffindor. After a summer in which everything seems changed - longer looks, more mischievous smiles - between you and Jake explodes a forbidden tension difficult to ignore. In the silence of the Common Room, between shared tasks and childish quarrels, there are stolen kisses, forbidden caresses and secret nights. Jake knows that breaking Heeseung’s trust is a mistake.You know you’re playing with fire but when the desire is so strong that it takes your breath away, how do you stop?

*tags: A lot of fun, they love to tease each other in every way, both Jake and the protagonist are perverted, Jake is really downbad for her, secret, fake innocent girl, needy Jake, needy girl, lots of kisses, fingering, male masturbation, big dick, virgin reader, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) -room necessities- pet names (baby,plague) (jakey)

The summer had flown by like a poorly cast spell. You had spent months in Muggle London, far from the corridors of Hogwarts, trying to forget—or maybe drown— that foolish, impossible crush that had tightened your stomach every time Jake Sim walked past you. Jake: Your brother Heeseung’s best friend, the guy you should never have looked at in that way, and yet, that summer, the irreparable had happened. When he had come to visit Heeseung in London, on one of those lazy, sun-filled afternoons, something happened that you had wanted since you were a little girl: a kiss. It's not one of those accidental or stolen kisses. No. Jake had looked at you as if he were seeing you for the first time—not just “Hee’s little sister”—and pressed his lips to yours with a hunger you had always dreamed of and feared at the same time. It had been rough, sweet, desperate, and now… you were crossing the doors of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, your heart feeling like it was about to explode, your new uniform fitting snugly around your hips that summer had made more mature, and the unbearable weight of your secret pressing down on your shoulders. You felt different, and he was making you think it even more. His eyes found you immediately through the crowd, and when Jake saw you, he thought: Shit. She’s changed.

Your skirt was a little shorter, your legs were longer, and your hair fell on your shoulders like a damned walking temptation. Jake forced himself to breathe as he watched you walk through the Great Hall, your cheeks flushed from the fresh air of the first day, that clumsy confidence making you irresistible. You were no longer the little girl clinging to Heeseung’s arm, and you weren’t just his best friend’s sister anymore. You were the girl he had kissed that damned night in London, against the wall of your room, the taste of your skin still burning on his tongue. The girl who made him want to say to hell with every rule, every friendship, every shred of common sense. Jake looked at you like a predator too hungry to pretend to be harmless, cursing himself when his eyes slid down your body, unable to stop. “Don’t think about how much you miss kissing her.” “Don’t think about how much you miss feeling her tremble beneath your hands.” And then, when you locked eyes with him and smiled, he knew. He was screwed.

The Magical Astrophysics classroom exuded pure terror mixed with disgust. Just hearing about astral formulas, magical gravitational calculations, and planetary rotations made you want to throw yourself off the Astronomy Tower. You hated math, you hated physics, and you would have hated that class… if it weren't for him. Jake Sim. No longer just a Hogwarts student, no longer just your brother's best friend. Jake was now the assistant to the professor of Astrophysics, standing at the desk in his gray and red sweater that clung to his broad chest, jeans that followed the lines of his muscular thighs, and those messy hair that seemed like they'd been styled by a storm. He was twenty-two and still managed to have that princely face with a hint of… dangerously perverted boy vibes. The Flynn Rider of Hogwarts, as you and your best friend had nicknamed him—only with less gallantry and more nimble hands. You found yourself in the second row, your legs elegantly crossed, the skirt—okay, maybe a bit too short—following the latest fashion, your chin resting on your hands as you watched him. Every movement he made, like erasing the blackboard, or leaning forward, stretching the fabric of his jeans over his quads. Damn. T/L, sitting next to you—your best friend and your big brother's girlfriend—elbowed you firmly in the side.

'Stop looking at him like you're reading the list of things you want him to do to you,' she whispered, amused. You pouted at her, squeezing her arm. "If I weren't Hee's sister… he'd already be mine," you muttered under your breath. She chuckled and made a shushing gesture over her lips. 'You're forgetting to close your mouth, darling. Keep this up, and you'll drool on the desk.' With a grimace, you gave her a light slap on the shoulder, and you both burst into laughter, trying to muffle the sound with your palms. Until you heard the sharp clapping of the professor’s hands, and the room fell into silence. --Alright, alright!-- the professor boomed, turning his gaze on Jake with evident approval. --This subject is crucial—it makes up thirty-five percent of your final diploma grade! And I want you all to know how possible it is to excel: Jake Sim, how did you do on the final test- Jake, with his usual slightly cocky grin, answered without hesitation: "A hundred out of a hundred, professor." The room murmured. Some applauded. You? You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from clapping too loudly or… jumping on him. "For this, guys, he'll be my official assistant and your role model throughout the academic year," the professor concluded proudly. T/L leaned toward you, whispering in your ear: 'Don't tell me you chose Magical Astrophysics just because he was in it…' You shrugged innocently. She looked at you, exasperated. 'You're the worst. Heeseung would skin you alive if he found out even about a flirt, you know that? This isn't going to end well…' You looked at her with a smile that said everything and nothing, and meanwhile, while the professor explained, your eyes darted back to Jake. Jake, who for a moment had stopped listening to the professor. Jake, who was looking at you with that mix of amusement and… damn hunger.

It had been just a week since the start of classes, and already you felt like you were drowning under a mountain of homework. The Magical Astrophysics professor seemed to enjoy torturing you, assigning interactive models of planets and magical constellations to be completed within a few days. There you were, curled up in a dimly lit corner of the library, near the Astral Tower, with a pout on your face. Even with the perfect formulas and a little magic, you still couldn't locate a damn constellation on your enchanted 3D notebook. It was as if the stars were having fun mocking you. You sighed, casting a glance at the empty table beside you. You were supposed to be working with T/L, your best friend from Ravenclaw, but she had decided to go on a romantic date with your brother. "Romantic," you thought sarcastically, "they’re probably fucking like rabbits!" Surely, they were doing anything but having candlelit dinners in the alleys of Hogsmeade... Your thighs instinctively pressed together, a familiar heat rising from your core. You, too, would have liked to... experience those things. To feel what it meant to have someone so close. So deep inside. It was in that exact moment that a voice you knew all too well—one you had dreamed of, imagined, and desired in your most forbidden thoughts—broke the heavy air of the library: "Are they fucking like rabbits?"

You spun around quickly, your heart threatening to explode out of your chest. In front of you, dressed in black jeans and a soft sweater that caressed his sculpted chest, stood Jake Sim. The perfect incarnation of a prince charming... disguised as a damn temptation, and you jumped up from your chair, shouting: "You can't use magic to listen to other people's thoughts!" you snapped, maybe a little too loudly. A few students shot you glares, and you blushed down to the roots of your hair, while Jake chuckled softly, with that raspy laugh that seemed like a spell meant to make your knees tremble. He came closer, lowering himself to your level and with a calloused finger, he lightly brushed your lips, silencing you gently. "Shh... Don't shout, sweetheart. We’re in a library," he whispered, his voice so low and warm it made your skin tingle. You immediately lowered your gaze, feeling suddenly small under his presence. Jake sat down across from you without asking, taking your 3D notebook and pretending to study it with false concentration. Then, with a crooked smile, he looked up and asked: "So... who’s fucking like a rabbit, huh?" You shook your head furiously, your eyes wide and innocent. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Jake chuckled, resting his elbow on the table and his cheek on his hand, looking at you like he was staring at something incredibly funny and incredibly desirable at the same time. "I never thought Heeseung’s sweet little sister knew... such expressions." You clenched your fists on the table, lifting your gaze defiantly. That golden retriever laugh was dangerous. It made you want to jump on him. "I’m not as innocent as you think, Jake." For a moment, his smile faltered just slightly—a second, but enough to make something dark flicker in his eyes; a flash of raw, pure desire. Jake leaned in a little closer to you, his voice lowering to an almost sinful whisper: "Oh, really?"

"Yes," you answered sharply, without hesitation. Jake chuckled, that low, raspy laugh of his that made every nerve in your body vibrate, and pressed on, tilting his head to the side: "So, who’s fucking like rabbits in heat?" You blushed furiously, lowering your gaze to the notebook. With a barely audible voice, you mumbled: "T/L and Heeseung…" When you looked up, you noticed Jake’s eyebrows raise in a surprised and mischievous expression at the same time. He stretched slowly, carelessly, and his sweater lifted just enough to give you a forbidden view: sculpted abs, golden skin, the perfect V-line disappearing into his dark jeans… and those fine hairs that seemed to point the way to a place you’d only dared to imagine. You swallowed hard. Jake noticed immediately. With a cheeky grin, he threw at you: "Try not to drool too much, little one." You rolled your eyes, huffing, though inside, your heart was pounding like a drum. You went back to writing formulas, desperately trying to focus while he, with patient movements that were always a little too close to your personal space, corrected you, drawing light lines with his finger on the star maps. When you told him, with a shy smile, that he’d be an excellent professor, Jake gave you a look that made you want to melt into your chair. "You’re better than you think, sweetheart," he praised, and your stomach twisted. The sun slowly dipped behind the spires of Hogwarts, and small stars began to sparkle in the high windows of the library. Jake pointed to one of the constellations in the real sky and compared it to the one you had written, his proud smile when you finally managed to spot it. "Thanks… really," you murmured. "Always for you," he replied, in a voice so full of meaning it sent shivers down your spine.

As you walked back to the Common Room, Jake walked ahead of you, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. He was relaxed, but every now and then, he threw furtive glances over his shoulder. Suddenly, he stopped abruptly. Lost in your thoughts about how unfair it was that he was so perfect, you bumped into him, planting your forehead against his broad, muscular shoulder. You lifted your face, ready to complain... but found yourself trapped by his eyes, so close to yours that a single breath would have brought you together. Jake smiled softly. Then, without saying a word, he grabbed your hand and quickly looked around: the corridor was empty. With a swift spell, whispered against your skin, he made the Invisibility Cloak appear: a soft glow enveloped you, hiding you from prying eyes.

With a quick spell, whispered against your skin, the Invisibility Cloak appeared: a soft glow enveloped you both, hiding you from prying eyes. He gently pushed you against the wall, your body pressed against the cold stone, his warmth immediately surrounding you. He leaned in, his face just a breath away from yours, and asked, his voice rough with an almost animalistic tension: "What did you mean... that you're not so innocent anymore, huh?" Your heart pounded in your chest, but you lifted your chin proudly. "I’m twenty, Jake. I’m not a child anymore. I know what happens between couples..." Jake's eyes darkened. He inhaled deeply while you, with a voice that barely trembled, continued: "I know about the different sexual positions. The verbal... erotic games... that can be done with magic. The foreplay... with hands... and magical toys." For a long, endless second, Jake remained still, staring at you as though you were saying the most shocking — and at the same time, most exciting — thing he’d ever heard. Then, he slowly ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more, a gesture that clearly revealed how hard he was fighting to maintain control. He warned you, his voice low and raspy: "If Heeseung knew even half of what you just said... he’d lock you away in a magical cloistered church. And throw away the key." You burst into laughter, the sound clear and genuine, warming even the air around you. "I guess you think T/L and I never talk about what happens... between her and Hee during sex? We're girls, it’s normal we confide these things..." You raised an eyebrow, innocent only in appearance. Jake groaned softly, exasperated yet amused at the same time, and leaned in closer, pressing his face against your neck. He inhaled deeply, savoring your scent, before whispering against your warm skin: "You’re becoming a little troublemaker..." Then, with a sweetness almost cruel, he slowly degraded you: "So good at playing with fire... and still don’t know how badly you could burn yourself, little one." His lips barely brushed the sensitive spot on your neck, sending a wave of heat through you, making your knees tremble slightly. You stayed there, frozen against the cold wall, his face so close to yours that you could count every dark lash framing his deep eyes. With a barely audible voice, you whispered to him:

"Have you ever thought... about what happened in London this summer?" Jake tensed up slightly. For what felt like an eternity, he said nothing — just his warm breath against your skin, and then he exploded into one of those low, deep laughs that made your soul vibrate. He moved just enough to look you in the eyes and asked, with a mischievous little smile: "And you, princess... have you thought about me?" You blinked, surprised, and responded sharply, "You don't answer a question... with another question." Jake laughed again, this time with a proud air, and tilted his head with that typical Gryffindor swagger: "Only a true Gryffindor would have the guts to throw that back at me. You're really stubborn, huh, little one?" He ran a hand through his hair in that nervous, fascinating gesture you had known since you were a child — a tic he'd always had, whenever he was agitated or about to say something important. His eyes, now dark as night, fixed on yours as he lowered his voice to make you tremble: "I thought about you every day, pest. Every single, damn day." Your breath caught. Jake moved even closer, his hips nearly pressing against yours against the wall, his hand gently brushing your cheek. "I would have kissed you nonstop. I would have wanted you in my room... or in yours... studying, watching those stupid Muggle movies... and then touching you, damn it, touching you without stopping. 24 hours a day. Because I..." He paused, squinting as if holding back the urgency, "...I need physical contact like I need air." His fingers lightly traced the outline of your jaw, his voice getting dirtier, rougher. "I would have wanted to make you feel good with my tongue... worship every inch of your body... and fuck you on any free surface at Hogwarts." You instinctively clenched your thighs, the heat between them becoming almost unbearable. Jake immediately noticed the movement, and his eyes flashed with desire. He smiled in a sweet, dirty way, degrading you with a low tone, like a whispered promise: "Look at how you're squeezing your legs for me, little one... You don't know how much it drives me crazy." His calloused fingers brushed your cheek again, tracing small, slow, almost hypnotic circles. He asked, his voice trembling, "And you? Have you thought about me, little temptress?" You pouted slightly, biting your lower lip before murmuring, "Yes... I've thought about you every night. But..." You bit your lip even harder. "I was scared... Scared of what Heeseung would think." Jake growled softly, his jaw tightening. "I knew we'd get ourselves into serious trouble," he said, his voice filled with frustration and restrained desire. You smiled, tilting your head slightly and responding in a bold whisper, "If you're my trouble... then you'll be my favorite trouble." Jake froze for half a second. Then, with an explosion of emotion too strong to contain, he praised you in a hoarse voice: "Shit... you're perfect." And without giving you even a moment to breathe, he smashed his lips against yours.

The kiss wasn’t sweet; it was urgent, desperate. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling you against him as if he wanted to melt into you. Your back hit the wall, but you didn’t even notice: all you felt was Jake’s mouth claiming yours, his tongue searching for yours with a wild hunger, his fingers caressing you everywhere they could reach.

Jake’s hands tightened firmly around your hips as your lips continued to search for each other with increasing desperation. His body was warm against yours, his breath growing more ragged. In a surge of boldness, you sank your fingers into his soft hair and tugged lightly. Jake moaned against your mouth — a low, visceral sound — and without meaning to, he thrust his pelvis forward, rubbing his hard erection against your center, already throbbing desperately under the thin fabric of your skirt. A moan escaped your lips. You stayed still, panting, and with lips barely parted, whispered to him: “Merlin... you’re so hard...” Jake chuckled against your skin, the sound rough and dirty: “Your fault, pest.” His voice was hoarse, laced with desire. “If you weren’t so fucking sexy every time you sit in class with that damn mini skirt of yours...” His big hands slid slowly, boldly, under the fabric of your skirt, creeping up your trembling thighs. He moved closer to your ear, nibbling on your lobe before whispering to you: “…and then you complain when I look at you like I want to eat you alive.” His fingers slid higher, grazing the inside of your thigh with slow, deliberate movements meant to drive you crazy. His lips descended on your neck, kissing and teasing your skin until he found a sensitive spot. When he started sucking on it softly, almost marking you, you confessed in a breathy voice:

“It was my intention… to have you looking at me.” Jake stopped for a second, his fiery eyes locked on yours. He degraded you gently, his tone hard and provocative: “Damn pest... you know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” He bit your neck lightly, and you moaned his name, unable to hold back: “J-Jake…” His breath hit you, hot against your skin. “Shit… you’re driving me crazy, little one.” His hands were now under your skirt, his fingers dangerously close to your wet center. The thin fabric of your underwear was the only barrier between you and him, and the way he caressed you made you tremble all over. Then — footsteps. The sound of footsteps in the hallway. Instinctively, you tried to pull away, but Jake pressed you harder against the wall, one broad hand covering your mouth while the other held you still against his hard body. “Shhh, love... not a sound,” he whispered against your skin. He continued kissing your neck, sucking your skin, while your body slowly twisted against him. Every moan you tried to let out was muffled by his palm, making the situation even more forbidden, even more exciting. When the footsteps faded and the silence returned, Jake slowly removed his hand from your mouth. Your lips were red, your breath broken. Jake looked at you and chuckled softly, satisfied with how he’d reduced you: “Merlin, you’re perfect. You’re made to be touched, adored... and spoiled by me.” He lowered himself to give you another dirty, sweet kiss on the lips, then reluctantly pulled away, his forehead resting against yours. “We should... go to dinner before someone notices we’re using the invisibility cloak in completely inappropriate ways!" He smiled mischievously, biting your lip lightly, then took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours: “It’s not over, pest. Tonight, in the Room of Requirement... after dinner.” And you nodded.

At dinner at the long Gryffindor table, you were sitting next to Heeseung, and in front of you was Jake, who sometimes stared at you but at the same time did everything he could to avoid being caught by Heeseung, while they talked about Quidditch and their university courses. You were savoring the last bite of your pear and chocolate cake when Heeseung turned to you with his usual nosy older-brother smile.

'By the way, sis... a certain Jareth Moon — a first-year Ravenclaw on the Quidditch team — asked me for permission to ask you out.'

Your fork froze mid-air. You turned to look at him, frowning. "Permission?! Hee, are we in the 1800s or something?"

Heeseung laughed, shaking his head. Jake, across the table, had stiffened imperceptibly, his eyes fixed on his glass.

'Don’t get mad, it’s just out of respect. He’s the first guy who came to me instead of sneaking around. It impressed me, and... I said yes.'

That was when Jake nearly choked on his pumpkin juice, coughing and banging a hand on the table. Between coughs, he muttered with a tight smile: "Well... for a Ravenclaw, he must be pretty desperate to ask for the brother's permission." The jab was dry, almost venomous. Heeseung shot him a sharp look, but then shrugged, defending the guy: 'He’s just a polite guy, Jake. Not everyone’s a damn fool with their brains fried from Quidditch, you know?'

You tried to ignore them, irritated. Chewing loudly, you snapped: "I don’t like him anyway."

Heeseung grimaced: 'For once I give you the green light... and you refuse? Seriously?'

You clenched your fists against the tablecloth, your face flushed with frustration. You suddenly stood up, moving your plate and startling Jake, who looked at you with those dark eyes, filled with something far more dangerous than simple disapproval.

"It’s not him I want," you declared loudly, enough to silence the nearby boys. With your heart pounding in your chest, you quickly turned and walked across the Great Hall.

Before you left, you shot a quick glance at Jake — and he was watching you, intense, his fist clenched as if he wanted to crush something. Jake made a move to touch his hair — his nervous tic — but he stopped, aware that Heeseung would catch him immediately. So he took your plate, absentmindedly finishing the last piece of cake you’d left. Heeseung watched him with a half-smile, amused: 'So... who do you think really wants my sister?'

Jake shrugged, staring at his plate without answering right away. Then, with a cynical chuckle, he said: "I don’t even want to imagine it. With that stubbornness, being her boyfriend must be a fucking nightmare."

Heeseung laughed loudly, thinking Jake was joking. He didn’t catch the bittersweet shadow that passed through his friend’s eyes.

Jake threw one last glance at the door you had disappeared through and stood up calmly, shaking off his robes: "I have to go. I’ve got assignments to grade... including your pest of a sister’s."

Heeseung laughed again: 'Don’t be too hard on her, come on. She’s good, even if she pretends not to be.'

Jake flashed a crooked smile, hiding the urgency that was burning beneath his skin. As soon as he stepped out of the Great Hall, he saw, from the corner of his eye, Heeseung reach his girlfriend at the Ravenclaw table. He sighed softly, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Thank God," he muttered to himself. "At least for tonight... no one will bother us." The Room of Requirement was already calling to him from the basement. And deep down, he knew very well that he wouldn’t be able to resist much longer — neither you nor the desperate pull of your body, which longed for only him.

Jake entered the Room of Requirement and immediately saw you. You were sitting on a wide sofa, next to a large lit fireplace casting flickering shadows on the golden walls. In your hands, you held a magical phone, scrolling through Muggle videos — probably romantic comedies, your guilty pleasure. As soon as you felt his electric energy vibrating in the air, you looked up. His eyes caught you immediately, dark and full of restrained desire. Jake sat next to you, spreading his legs in that cheeky, relaxed, and damn sexy way of his. He watched you for a moment, before chuckling with his low, hoarse voice: "Should I ask your big brother for permission too to have a date with you, princess?"

You rolled your eyes, pretending to be annoyed, though your heart was pounding in your chest: "I hate it when he does that, Jake... I’m not a kid anymore."

Jake immediately warned you in a low, authoritative tone, while his hand gently stroked your thigh: "You should never say — or even think — such awful things about your brother. He cares about you, even if he treats you like a little girl."

You lowered your gaze, nibbling on your lip, and nodded softly. Jake motioned with his hand: "Come here."

You timidly approached his legs, but it wasn’t enough. Jake grabbed you by the hips firmly and placed you straddling him, making you blush all the way to your ears. One of his hands slid under your skirt, brushing the bare skin of your thighs with slow and confident fingers, while the other went under your warm sweater. He inhaled your scent — a sweet mix of chocolate and caramel — and closed his eyes for a moment, almost enchanted. You pressed yourself against him, clinging to his shoulders. Jake lowered his head and started kissing your neck, running his tongue over it, gently nibbling on your skin. Between kisses, he whispered: "That Ravenclaw... do you know him?"

You shook your head slightly, your voice trembling: "No... never seen him before."

Jake smiled against your skin, satisfied, and replied: "Good."

You took his chin between your fingers, forcing him to look into your eyes. "Are you jealous, Jake?"

He stared at you intensely, gripping your ass tightly, making you gasp. With a hoarse, almost threatening voice, he answered: "I don’t even want to imagine seeing you with someone else. If it’s not me... there shouldn’t be anyone else." It came naturally to you to run your hands through his messy brown hair, ruffling it. "You’re so cute when you’re jealous..."

Jake immediately warned you, sweetly degrading you: "Pest, don’t tease me like that... or you’ll end up crying under me." Then he gave your ass a small slap, making the fabric of your skirt snap against your skin, and a moan escaped your lips, making you feel all hot. Jake laughed softly, a rough sound that made you vibrate inside: "Tell me, what do you plan to do with your future boyfriend... who, by the way, will only be me. Got it, pest?"

Still a little out of breath, you responded with a provocative smile: "You’re too possessive, Jake."

He praised you, nibbling your neck, while his hand under the sweater caressed your bare back: "Because... you’re all mine. Only mine." Then, with a hot whisper in your ear, he asked: "And now... I want to know: what dirty thoughts have you had about me?"

You blushed, shaking your head with a small, awkward smile. Jake reminded you, biting your ear: "Don’t play shy, pest... you already confessed them to me before... now I want the details."

You closed your eyes and, trembling, began to think of all those fantasies that you had repressed for months, with your face on fire and your heart pounding in your chest, you approached his ear, feeling the warm and spicy scent of his skin. You whispered softly, your voice trembling "...I touched myself all summer thinking of you... I wanted to feel your mouth against my nipples... I wanted to beg your name as I came to your face ... your fingers... I wanted to feel you inside me, so crazy. And I wanted to do it in places where they could also discover us... I also thought about the erotic games that older girls talked about... the ones they did to their boyfriends..." He stood still for a second, as if your breath had ignited his blood. Then, slowly, like a predator savoring its prey, you lifted up its sweater, revealing its sculpted abdomen. You began to kiss him shyly, from the collarbones, passing with the tip of the tongue along the perfect line of his abs. Your little hands trembled against his warm skin, as he closed his eyes, barely holding back control. With a hoarse voice, deep and sharp, he gently degraded you:

"Little plague... you have no idea what you're doing to me. You're playing with fire... and I'm not going to turn it off." he inhaled hard, clenching his jaw: "I want to adore you, make you cry from pleasure... I want to hear you implore me to fuck you, princess. But not today. Today I will teach you to collapse under my touch." You nodded trembling, not being able to look away from his black eyes, so full of desire.

In a broken voice you asked him «...C - what should I do...?" he just smiled, that dirty smile that made your knees shake: "Stand up slightly, love." You obeyed, arching your pelvis. With a quick whispered spell, he slid your skirt down to your ankles. Your sweatshirt also faded like snow in the sun, leaving you alone in a red lingerie outfit that looked sewn to your skin.

"Fucking little temptress... Red panties and matching bra? You planned to make me lose my mind, didn't you, plague?" He made you lie slowly on the couch and climbed on top of you, his weight against your half-naked body. He slid his hard cock over your most sensitive part, snatching at you a sweet moan, so spontaneous that he growled softly. He rubbed softly, feeling the heat between you, while his hands held you still, as if you were about to escape from too great a pleasure. Slowly he began to cover your thighs with small kisses, to climb up, to make you tremble. She reached the edge of the red panties and stopped, looking into your eyes: "You're sure, little plague...?» You stammered, blushing furiously

" I want you... just you... Please..." With a carnivorous smile, he slid his panties off, throwing them somewhere behind him. He bent down to look at you, to take you all with his gaze, and gently degraded you: "Look how you are already all lucid to me... Dirty little plague..." You bit your lip as his fingers grazed your hot center, making you moan. You asked him with a little voice: "Jake.. want... I want to feel good... Please..."

He smiled against your skin: "Oh, my love... I'll make you feel so good that you'll never want to break away from me again." he ran a finger against your swollen, throbbing clitoris, pinching it slightly. A desperate groan eluded you, as you moaned his nickname: "Jakey.." He smiled proudly, and continued to tease you with slow, deep touches, making you lose all thought, all control, all rationality...he slowly slid his tongue against your clit, savoring you for the first time. Your body arched its hips in a snap, as if lightning had passed through you all, and without even thinking about it you pulled his hair with force, babbling in groans: "J-J.. It's too much... too good... Please... don't stop..."

He giggled at you, the heat of his breath making you tremble even more. He degraded you with a hoarse voice and kneaded with desire:

"My plague... are you already lost under my tongue, huh? Wait till you feel my cock inside you... I'll break you in two, just because you're mine." As his words made you all tremble, you felt the promise of a deeper touch: he whispered to you, " Now I'll slide a finger inside this fucking wet cunt, baby. Prepare." you nodded frantically, unable to say anything else, and when his finger entered you slowly, you screamed with pleasure, your head throwing back on the couch:

"A-ahhh... J-Jakey!" he swore, as he felt how tight you was, so damn tight he had to restrain himself: "Fuck... you're perfect...tight just for me...tight for the only guy who will have you. Tight for what will break you while he fucks you, my baby." His tongue moved back to your clitoris with small slow movements, making eights while his finger gently prepared you. You moaned, stammered broken words while still pulling his hair, unable to control the pleasure that invaded you "you-you are... so good... so good... I want you... I want you... ak.." Without warning you, he slid a second finger into you. Your body stiffened and you moaned in despair "T-too much... It's too much..."

he laughed softly against your skin, enjoying your every reaction: "I'm just preparing you, little plague. You don't even know how little I'll hold out before I want to fuck you on every surface of Hogwarts..." He kept working you slow, feeling your muscles tighten around his fingers. You moaned, you called him, you abandoned yourself to him without shame. "J.. jake.. I want to come... Please... I want to come for you..."

he lifted his head and looked at you from above, his mouth shining at you, a dangerous smile on his lips "Do you want to come, my love? Then give me something in return. Tell me a dirty thought you made about me." you shook your head hard, all red, biting your lip. "N-no... I can't... it's embarrassing..."

"Good girls only come if they give something in return. If you don't want to tell me... then you don't deserve to come, plague." And so, with a slow and cruel movement, he removed a finger from inside you. "N-no! No, please! Don't stop!" He looked at you satisfied, waiting. With tears in his eyes from need, you collapsed and stammered "During... during a game of Quidditch......I thought how nice it would be for me to get in the stands....with your uniform still on... and I with nothing under my skirt.....while everyone looked at you as the hero......and I knew you were scoring the real point with me..." he growled quietly, as if those words had taken away any remaining control. He pinched your clit with cruel and perfect precision. You screamed his name, your body exploding under his fingers, your hips moving uncontrollably against his hand, as you squirted against his mouth and fingers. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He leaned over you and kissed you sweetly, making you savor yourself on his tongue, as he whispered: "Very good girl, my little plague...You were perfect for me... and it's just the beginning." He held you in his strong arms, his heart still beating madly, as you felt that, with him, you would really know heaven... and the sweetest hell.

It had been two months since you and Jake had decided to give being together a try, and to be honest, those had been two of the best months of your life. In class, you were among the best: every time the professor gave you an excellent grade on a project, you knew there was a special "reward" waiting for you… Jake, who would secretly take your hand under the desks, would drag you down the darkest halls of Hogwarts and kiss you against the cold stone statues, smiling between kisses like a boy who had just won his most important trophy: you. There were nights when, with the invisibility cloak, you'd lie together on the banks of the Black Lake. You'd gaze at the constellations, talk about your dreams, and he would hold you tight, whispering sweet things… or dirty ones, depending on his mood. During the parties, Jake became even more bold: when Heeseung was busy dancing with his girlfriend — your best friend — or hiding somewhere to do who knows what, Jake would approach you from behind. He'd whisper things in your ear that made your cheeks turn red and your heart race, things about how much he desired you and how he couldn’t wait to be alone with you. Between a hidden kiss, a stolen laugh, and study nights where you ended up kissing more than studying, you and Jake had become inseparable. Even though no one officially knew yet… especially Heeseung. That afternoon, you were walking side by side with your usual group: Sunghoon and his girlfriend, your best friend (Hee's girlfriend), Ni-Ki, Sunoo, Jay, Jungwon, and of course, Jake. Jake was next to you, talking to Jay, but every now and then, he would throw you quick glances and lightly brush his hand against yours, as if to remind you he was there. You all entered the sweet shop in Hogsmeade, immersed in the usual sugary scent of chocolate, caramel, and cotton candy. The line was long, but while you were focused on choosing which pastry to get, a boy approached. He was tall, much taller than Jake. Blond hair, almost shaved, and eyes as blue as the frozen sea. He introduced himself with a confident smile: "Hey, how’s it going? I’m Jareth. I think you’ve heard of me… I’m on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team." You turned around, surprised, recognizing the name: Jareth, the one Heeseung had mentioned weeks before. You smiled politely and introduced yourself. Jareth was the complete opposite of Jake: where Jake was muscular but agile, Jareth was imposing and massive. Jake had those deep, warm hazel puppy-dog eyes, while Jareth’s looked sharp and cold. Casually, as you were picking a pastry, he asked: "I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me, maybe this weekend… You know, I got permission from your brother." You stopped, surprised, and then raised an eyebrow. "Oh… really? I feel like a medieval princess, locked in a tower… how sweet!" Your little jab didn’t go unnoticed. Behind you, Jay and Jake — who had heard everything — started laughing quietly, but Jake… Jake was nervously running a hand through his hair, his eyes bright with restrained jealousy. His lips were pressed tight, and Jay gave him a pat on the shoulder, whispering: "Don’t make a scene, bro… Breathe." Jareth, oblivious to the tension, gave you another bold smile. "So, what do you say?" You tilted your head to the side, studying him for a few seconds, then smiled sweetly. "You were kind to ask for permission… but no, thanks. Right now, I’ve got other things on my mind. I just want to graduate with good grades, that’s all." Jareth nodded understandingly, not pressing further, and waved goodbye with a small, respectful gesture. Jake, sitting at a table not far away with Jay and the others, clenched his jaw tightly, so much so that Jay noticed and nudged him in the side to get him to relax. When you returned to the group with your bag of sweets, you sat right next to Jake.

He glanced at you sideways, his hands clenched on his knees as if he were holding himself back. Heeseung, sitting across from you, stared at you with furrowed brows and burst out: 'Why didn’t you say yes to him?' You rolled your eyes in exasperation. "Because I don’t like him, Hee! Do I need to repeat myself?" Jay, amused by the whole situation, chimed in with a mischievous laugh. -Then tell us, what’s your type? What kind of guy would you really like?- But before you could answer, Heeseung mumbled through gritted teeth: 'Definitely not you.' Jay immediately raised his hands in surrender, laughing. -Relax, big bro, my heart beats for someone else!- You giggled under your breath while biting into your chocolate pastry, finding the whole scene ridiculous but sweet at the same time. You chewed slowly, thoughtful, then looked at Jay — but also glanced at Jake out of the corner of your eye — and began to list dreamily: "I like guys who are a bit cheeky... not shy. They need a lot of affection... especially physical affection." Jake bit his lip, lowering his hoodie to hide a smile. "They need to be sweet but also a little... perverted," you continued, with an embarrassed grin. Jake almost choked on the hot chocolate he was drinking, while Jay laughed loudly. "And they need to know what they want," you added, crossing your arms. "Physically," you laughed a little, "I like guys with dark, long hair, a bit nerdy but not too much, with big brown eyes, and an athletic build..." Jake made a joke, throwing a jab that made Jay blush. "Basically... you want the whole package. 24/7 worship included?" You turned towards him, clutching the bag of sweets in your hands, and with a fake innocent smile said: "Exactly." Heeseung was staring at you in silence, with such a dark look that it seemed like he could zap someone at any moment. Finally, he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. 'It was better when you were ten and running around the meadow chasing frogs, rather than hearing you talk about boys...' His girlfriend, laughing softly, gave him a light shove on the shoulder. <Hee, she’s two years younger than you! It’s normal for her to start thinking about love, feelings... she has to live, learn, make mistakes!" Heeseung turned to her, stubborn.> 'Maybe that’s true for others, but for her, it’s different.' You clenched your jaw, irritated, and staring at him with eyes that were teary but firm, you replied: "One day, you’ll have to accept who my boyfriend is, Hee. Because I won’t stop wanting to love just to make you happy." At that point, Jake lowered his gaze, clenching his fists under the table, as if every word was a blow to his chest.

That afternoon, like every day, you were sitting in the study room, immersed in your Magical Astrophysics notes. The pen spun between your fingers as you tried to solve a complex problem about the trajectories of enchanted comets. The chair in front of you creaked slightly. An involuntary smile brushed your lips: at this hour, Jake always arrived, as punctual as a clock. But when you lifted your gaze, the smile slowly died on your lips. In front of you were blond hair and ice-blue eyes. Jareth. "Jareth…" you whispered, confused. He smiled at you affably, with that overly confident way about him. "Need a hand?" he asked, tilting his head. "No, thanks… I’m fine," you replied quickly, returning your focus to your notes. But he still approached, noticing a small mistake in your calculation. "Here," he said, touching your notebook with the tip of his finger, "you made a small error." You corrected it immediately, mumbling a barely perceptible thank you. Then, with casual ease, Jareth leaned toward you and whispered: "So… the answer is still no?" You looked at him, puzzled. "No?" you repeated. "I mean… to the date," he clarified, biting his lip with a mischievous look. You sighed. "Yes, the answer is still no." Jareth chuckled softly, not at all discouraged. "It’s just two hours… I won’t ruin your study plans. And if you want, we could catch up tonight in the common room… together," he added, brushing your arm with his hand. It was at that moment that a familiar, rough voice cut through the air like a blade. "Don’t you dare touch her." You whipped around. Jake was there, standing, fists clenched at his sides and a look so fierce it seemed like it could burn Jareth on the spot. Jareth snickered, throwing a challenging glance at Jake: "Relax, mate." Jake gritted his teeth and, in a low, dangerous voice, hissed, "I’m not friends with anyone." Then he moved closer, gently but firmly grabbing your wrist. "Grab your stuff," he ordered, leaving you no escape.

With your heart in your throat, you quickly stuffed your books into your bag and followed him. Jake walked ahead of you, occasionally glancing back at you with quick looks, as if making sure you were still there. He kept running a nervous hand through his hair. You walked quickly down the deserted hallways of Hogwarts, and then he opened the door to the Room of Requirement. As always, the room had understood exactly what you needed: a crackling fireplace, a large, soft sofa... and a canopy bed draped in velvet curtains. You placed your bag against the sofa, your heart pounding wildly. When you turned around, Jake was already behind you. In one swift motion, he gently but decisively pushed you against the wall. He stayed just a few centimeters away from you, his breath heavy, his eyes flashing with conflicting emotions. "Why did you smile at him?" he whispered, his voice rough. You looked at him, surprised, but didn’t even have time to respond before Jake took your face in his hands, as if afraid of breaking you, and his thumb traced the line of your cheek. "I don’t want... I can’t see you with anyone else," he said, his forehead resting against yours. "I’m not good, I’m not perfect... but I want you all to myself." You felt his words tremble against your skin, like a prayer and a promise at the same time. His lips crashed against yours with a hunger that made you tremble.

Without thinking, you grabbed the hood of his sweatshirt and pulled him even closer, snatching a low growl from his throat. When his tongue invaded your mouth, it seemed that an explosion of dances, sparks and magic fires exploded inside you. You groaned softly against his lips as you felt his hands sink into your hips as if he wanted to sculpt your body into memory.

"I can't take it anymore," he muttered against your mouth, his voice hoarse and broken. "Me neither... I want you ,Jake.." you whispered, panting. But he paused for a second, looking into your eyes with a vulnerability that gripped your heart. "I don't want to make you suffer." You smiled, caressing his face.

"I will not suffer... I've liked you for years." He let out a low growl, as if he could no longer restrain himself, and picked you up with frightening ease. He laid you gently on the large four-poster bed, the curtains swaying above you like a curtain ready to hide you from the world.

He leaned over you and began to tease your neck with small wet kisses, making you laugh and moan softly. "I would have liked to... do it the first time in your room... or in mine," he whispered as he kissed your collarbone, "but Hee would find out right away."

You smiled, hands entwined in his hair. "I like the Room of Necessity..." He smiled against your skin and let his sweatshirt off with an impatient gesture. Your eyes rested greedy on his defined muscles, on the warm skin that smelled of him. "You're..." you began, but he rolled over you. He straddled you on his sides, hazel eyes shining as if you were his one universe. With trembling hands you lifted his sweater, revealing his perfect chest, warm and toned. When he saw that you only had your bra underneath, he made a cute pout that made you laugh. "Little plague..." he murmured, gently degrading you as he gazed adoring at you. You bent down and began to kiss him everywhere: along his chest, on the ribs, until you left little hickeys on his skin. You could feel his breaths accelerating beneath you, his body straining every time your mouth slid over a sensitive spot.

With his heart pounding, you slowly pulled down the zip of his pants. When his gray boer: "you're... beautiful." he laughed softly, stroking your cheek. "You too, my love." In a moment of audacity, you rubbed against his hard penis, feeling its firm, pulsating texture beneath you. he groaned softly, clasping his hands on your sides. "Continuous..." he begged you in a low voice. You continued to move slowly above him, first with small circles, then slightly increasing the pace, enjoying his reactions: the way he moaned your name, the way he closed his eyes to restrain himself. "P-I can... can I touch it and masturbate it?" you asked him with a thread of voice, trembling but excited, he giggled, his voice hoarse and low. "Where did you learn to speak like that?"he teased you, looking at you with those eyes full of desire. You smiled and, biting your lip, answered: "From a magician... who studies astrophysics... play Quidditch... and he's Australian."

Jake let himself go against the mattress, his dark hair tousled and his dark eyes fixed in yours while you, straddling his muscular thighs, lowered his gray boxer when his member sprinted free, long, thick and taut against his sculpted abs, you squinted without even being able to restrain yourself. "M-merlin..." you stuttered, feeling his face glow with blush as you gazed at every pulsating vein, every impressive detail of him.

he laughed, his hoarse, low laugh vibrating in your chest. He pushed back a strand behind your ear, thumb gently brushing your cheek. "I told you I would only make you feel good," he muttered against your lips,"I will never hurt you, baby" He guided your hand towards him. Trembling with excitement, you closed your hand around its hot, pulsating member, starting to pump softly, feeling the velvety skin and live weight under your fingers. he threw his head against the pillow and moaned loudly, not ashamed.

"So, baby ... Fuck, you look like you were born to drive me crazy." You lowered yourself slowly, brushing the damp tip with your tongue, licking as if you were savoring a forbidden dessert. he bit his lip hard so as not to moan even louder, but you grabbed his wrist and took his hand out of his mouth. "I want to hear you," he whispered in a hoarse, mischievous voice, as you continued to tease him, slowly licking the tip, pressing his hand harder on his member. he moaned openly this time, without holding back.

With one quick move, he pulled down your skirt and with it your panties, laughing at your skin while you, surprised, screamed his name. "Multitasking," he whispered with a devilish smile. He made you sit better on his thighs and, while you continued to lick and masturbate him, he ran his fingers between your thighs, caressing your clitoris already swollen with desire. A shiver ran through your entire back and you moaned hard against his cock. "You're already so wet, princess ..." he laughed against your ear, as he ran two expert fingers inside you, starting to move them slowly.

"I'm ... I'm already melting," you moaned, involuntarily moving your hips against his fingers. he pushed deeper, while his thumb gently tormented your clit. You felt flooded with pleasure and you, without even thinking about it, rubbed harder against his hand and cock. "Keep sucking me like this," he growled softly, "and I'll make you cum so hard you won't stand up, baby" Your mouth and hands moved more decisively, while he increased the intensity of the caresses between your legs. Your tongue moved slow and greedy around the tip of his cock, savoring every ooze of his pleasure. he, with one hand in your hair, guided you a little further down, gently pushing you to welcome more into your mouth.

"Breathe out of your mouth, Baby" He moaned at that gesture, his fingers sinking even deeper into your wet cunt, pumping at a more rapid and decisive pace. When you looked up at him, crossing eyes obscured by desire,you felt all trembling. You unwittingly clasped your cunt around his fingers, moaning against his throbbing flesh. he degraded you slowly, your voice scratche:

"Look how good you are ... a little slut all to myself, so tight and hungry for my fingers and my cock..." Your face became even redder,but the desire made your skin burn. In a shy voice, you stammered: "I ... it drives me crazy to see you so lost to me ... with those unkempt tufts on your forehead... your lips pouted with pleasure ... you are so fucking beautiful..." he growled softly, his abdomen twitched strongly. "Fuck, I'm going to come..." he gasped. You, without hesitation, continued to suck it harder, feeling it throbbing between your lips. When it exploded in your mouth, its hot seed gently invaded you. You did not stop: you licked everything, swallowing without leaving a single drop, as his hoarse moans filled the air. he looked at you as you wiped your lips with your tongue, and in his thoughts he screamed:

It's mine. No one will ever touch her again. She was born to be on top of me, to suck my life away. No one has ever done this to me. No.

Meanwhile, his fingers had never stopped-they continued to work at you with fierce dedication. You groaned in disarray, your hips moving by themselves, until a powerful wave swept over you and you screamed against his chest, coming hard against his fingers. Your excitement flooded his hand and part of his abdomen. he watched the scene, rapt and fucking proud, as he kissed your forehead softly and muttered against your trembling skin "You're perfect, baby, Never stop coming for me like that, ever." Then he slowly licked his fingers, savoring your taste as he looked at you with a bloody satisfied smile.

he pushed you with sweetness but also a hunger held against the pillows of the bed, his body pressing against yours, warm, alive, eager only for you. He kissed you with an overwhelming passion, his hands clutching your face as if you were the most precious thing in the world. Between kisses, you whispered breathlessly: "I want you Jake"

He just stood up, his breath broken, his eyes shining with emotion as he stroked your hair. "Are you sure, Baby" he asked in a low voice, his forehead against yours. "What we are going to do... is not just preliminary. It will be real sex." You nod firmly, clutching his face in your hands: "I want it... but only with you." he closed his eyes for a moment, as if holding back a greater emotion than he did, then kissed you again and praised you in a hoarse whisper "You are the most beautiful thing I could ever have..."

He ducked slightly, driving his hard, pulsating cock between your swollen, wet folds. He slowly slid the tip down your slit, making you moan arching your hips, brushing your clit just to get used to its grandeur. You grabbed his hair with a trembling hand, panting: "Please ... I want to hear you inside,Jake"

He gently degraded you, murmuring: "Honey ... if you feel bad, shake my hand hard. I'll stop, okay?" Nod, completely trusting him. Jake, with extreme delicacy, pushed his cock against your narrow and taut entrance. The head of his cock forced the virgin and hot entrance slowly, making you gasp loudly. "Breathe ... relax, love ..." he encouraged you, slowly kissing your cheek. When you felt that it filled you, slowly, a mixture of pleasure and a pinch of pain invaded you. he groaned at the feeling so incredibly tight around him, his voice broken: "You're ... fucking perfect ... so tight for me..." He pressed you against himself, letting you get used to it, and after a few moments you whispered to him in a trembling voice:

"You can move... slowly, please..." Jake obeyed, sliding just outside and then slowly pushing into you, a little more each time. You groaned, your hips moving to welcome him better, the body learning its shape, its rhythm. You clasped your legs around her hips, panting: "More ... I want you all..." He began to move deeper, pumping his cock into you with slow but increasingly intense thrusts. Your eyes spilt with pleasure, your lips stuttering unchecked: "C - so beautiful... you are so big... I feel everything... you are everywhere inside me..." he degraded you in a hoarse voice, without stopping: "Look how well you take me, Baby!"

He kissed you violently, without ceasing to push you, while you screamed at his mouth: "I'm yours ,Jake Forever! Only yours!" At those words he lost all restraint. He was no longer the sweet and shy guy: his need for you was total, desperate, absolute.

He began to hammer you with deep and fast blows, the bed squeaking below you, while every moan, every cry, every dirty kiss you exchanged seemed to enshrine that promise between your bodies and your hearts. His cock pounded inside you mercilessly, filling you up to your stomach, making you lose your breath with every stroke. In the room there were only your moans, the wet sound of bodies meeting, the intoxicating scent of your sweaty skin, the sound of the skin slapping against the skin. And his hoarse dirty voice degrading you unfiltered: "Feel how well you take me, so wet just for me... you are perfect ... fucking perfect ... you were born to be under me, under my cock..."

You screamed with pleasure, without shame, clutching the sheets, the muscles of your thighs trembling under each powerful lunge. he took one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder, and with a deep and precise blow he twirled his hips. His cock violently hit your point G. You squirmed on the bed, a excruciating, pleasure-filled cry escaped from your lips: "JJAKEY" Tears rolled down your cheeks, the pleasure was so intense that it made you sob. he, seeing you so vulnerable and overwhelmed, degraded you with a satisfied grin.

"God, you are so beautiful as you cry with pleasure for me ... I want to see you like this every time I fuck you, every time, baby..." You pulled hard the sweaty tufts that fell on his forehead, trying to hold on to him as the only lifeline. When you opened your eyes slightly, you found him staring at you. His brown eyes had become dark with desire, but also full of love. He could no longer see the little girl chasing frogs in the clearing, no. In front of him was a woman. His woman. In a low voice, trembling and sincere, you whispered against his lips: "I love you ,Jake"

His body shook over you. With a stronger hip snap he hit you in even deeper, making you moan loudly, as one of his hands lowered to tease your swollen clit. With a broken voice he degraded you again: "Then come, love... come around my cock as I fill you up, I want to feel you squeeze me tight as I cum inside you, make you mine forever..." In between sobs, you stuttered as you trembled. "I can't take it anymore... I feel you up... to the stomach... I want you all, inside me... I want to come ... I just want you..." he growled softly upon hearing you, ducked even further on your body, pumping you faster and rougher, while pinching and massaging your clit. You were breaking under the pleasure, the tension that mounted unstoppable, until you exploded around him with a cry that seemed to tear through the air. You felt his cock throb violently inside you, his hot seed filling you out of control, while he moaned your name against your neck. You could feel it dripping, the hot strands of cum running down your trembling thighs, as he squeezed hard against you, whispering in your ear:

"You are perfect ... You are mine...I love you..." His thoughts were a gentle and fierce storm:

There is nothing else for me. Just her. Just my girlfriend. Just my princess.

And your heart was racing mad thinking the same thing: Just him. Justake Forever.

Jake remained completely buried deep, as you felt his warm, abundant seed flood you, slowly dripping as his labored breathing mingled with yours. He made you moan still faintly just because of the way his cock throbbed inside you, as if his body also wanted to stick together with yours forever. Her hair was tickling on your shoulder, and his face was hidden in your neck, wet with sweat and kisses. In a hoarse, low voice, he whispered to you:

"I don't want to get out of you anymore, bay" As he spoke, he still pushed his cock slightly inside you, making you moan louder, a mixture of pleasure and sweet agony. Then he added dirt, growling softly against the skin: "You are my little slut to spoil... my little doll to fill up until you feel full of me ... You are made only for me, baby..."

Your legs instinctively tightened around his, trapping him even more inside you. he giggled against your neck, his voice glowing with love and pleasure: "Sadist ... You are my personal little sadist, my love..." After a few minutes, he pushed himself out of you very slowly. His hard, shiny cock slid out, letting go of all the sticky threads of his semen that trickled down your thighs, dirty and shaking.

The sensation made you shiver and smile at the same time. With a small movement of his wand, Jake conjured a damp, warm cloth. With infinite tenderness, he gently cleaned you, caressing the inside of your thigh while planting little kisses between your belly and hips. Then he passed his sweatshirt over your head, dressing you with a tender and protective gesture, pulling you against his chest. Jake held you as if he wanted to merge with you, his scent mixed with yours being the most beautiful thing you'd ever smelled. He wrapped you in his strong arms, like a loving bear, and chuckled against your hair:

"I never imagined I'd fall in love with the girl chasing frogs in the enchanted clearing... or the crazy one who chose magical astrophysics just because... I was the professor's student."

You burst out laughing and pinched his side. "Conceited! Astrophysics is a serious subject; I didn't pick it because of some idiot Australian obsessed with Quidditch!" Jake laughed softly, his body trembling gently against yours. He propped himself up slightly on one elbow, gazed into your eyes with that warm look, and placed a small, tender kiss on your forehead.

With a whisper, he said, "I love you, baby... truly..."

Your eyes moistened again, but this time it was only happiness. You smiled at him and replied softly, your heart bursting, "I love you too, Jake... so much..."

You cuddled a little longer, while the magic of the Room of Requirement seemed to protect you from everything else in the world. Then, with a small grimace, Jake ran a hand through his still-sweaty hair and mumbled, "Maybe it’s time to ask your brother for permission to date you..."

You bit your tongue between your teeth and gave him another pinch on the side, making him jump. "You’re a bit late, Sim. You should have asked before... well, how should I put it... leaving me breathless."

Jake laughed heartily, the sound you loved more than anything else, and pulled you back against him, holding you tight as if he wanted to shield you from the whole world. And you fell asleep there, in his arms, knowing you’d never feel more loved than that.

taglist: @stwrlightt @hearts4cheol @lovenha7 @in-somnias-world @heeseungxo @luvyeni @jayjw16enxp @jvngwni @jooniesbears-blog @gguk-n @cloudykim @enhaverse713586 @stormy1408 @jakesw82 @misssparklyprincess @bamguetismee @jaylajakey @arclviie @strxwbloody @steddie-steddie @jungwoosbaey @laurenmia65 @tasnemluvs @lovellydisaster @simj4k3 @numnommz @sspidermanss @vixialuvs @smlbch @xylatox @ikeulove @nishikio @ancnymcnzjy @sofiafromvenus @kayjiguki @annovaz @kkamismom12 @forrds @inishij @amortenha @sunnysidesins @isagistar @schniti-is-in-the-house @nyxiebabyyy @rubylace @petalsofink @asteriscoverde @azzy02 @sievenderz @reading-wh0re

Rebblog and comments are appreciated

144 notes · View notes

reading-wh0re · 2 months ago

Text

DELICIOUS ‼️‼️

Truth or Dare is a dangerous game

*pairing: pervy popolar gryffindor Heeseung x shy ravenclaw Girl

*trope: grumpy girl x sunshine boy

*synopsis: In a hidden corner of Hogwarts, amidst laughter and tension, the shy and cynical Y/n, a brilliant Ravenclaw, finds herself trapped in a dangerous and seductive game. A chance encounter with Heeseung, the charismatic captain of Gryffindor’s Quiddich, would trigger a series of events that will involve her in a network of seduction and mystery. It all begins during an evening of "Magic Truth and Obligation", when Y/n, to avoid the humiliation of refusing an obligation, ends up being forced to spend ten minutes in a room with Heeseung, Despite her armor of cynicism and coldness, Y/n is irresistibly attracted to him, discovering new sides of herself that she never thought she would know and maybe those 10 minutes will last for hours…

*tags: A lot of tension, Hee is a bit of a clown and loves to tease you and make fun of you, you have had a crush on him for years, magic "truth and obligation" game, lots of kisses, pacifiers, dirty words, fake innocent girl, needy hee, needy girl, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) fingering, male masturbation, small discussion and statement +18

9.7k (🫂)

(English is not my native language)

The familiar scent of aged parchment, ink, and slightly burnt potions lingered in the library air. You were seated at your usual spot — second floor, third column on the left — hunched over a yellowed scroll, your brows furrowed as you tried to grasp the secondary reaction of burlap essence with Veritaserum.

In front of you sat Sunghoon, Ravenclaw's leader and your friend since day one, meticulously underlining formulas with almost obsessive precision.

Sunghoon was cold with the world, yes, but with you, he'd always had a warm heart — though buried deep beneath layers of sarcasm and sharp retorts. He'd softened around the edges ever since he started dating T/L, the temperamental Slytherin with the charm of a scalpel, but really, he’d just become less awkward. His affection for you remained untouched, loyal, quiet but constant — like a protective charm humming in the background.

More than three hours had passed. Your eyes burned, and the silence was almost comforting… until the walking disaster with a broom on his shoulder made his grand entrance.

A murmur among the shelves. A thud. An explosion of Quidditch bags, flying scrolls, and a voice far too familiar.

-For Morgana’s sake, Heeseung! Are you a Captain or a drunk Muggle?-

snapped Sunghoon, jolting upright, goose feathers scattered across the table.

“Hoonie, relax. That was all calculated,” laughed Lee Heeseung, emerging from behind the shelves like he’d just walked off a battlefield.

Heeseung was a sight in crimson, gold, and black robes, hair tousled by the wind, hands still dusty from the broom. His golden eyes locked onto Hoon with a mischievous gleam.

“Just wanted to make sure you still remembered how to feel once in a while.”

He winked.

-Yeah? I’m feeling the urge to strangle you right now,-

Hoon shot back, though the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips betrayed his fondness.

Their exchange was so natural it briefly swept you away… until Heeseung’s gaze landed on you.

And then it happened — like it always did.

His eyes curved into that signature golden crescent, and a grin unfurled across his face like a cursed charm.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my Queen of Rules.”

The nickname was his. Annoyingly affectionate. He always said it in that tone that made you want to hit him with a permanent Silencing Charm.

You rolled your eyes in response, feigning indifference.

But inside? Inside, you were a mess of misfired potions.

Lee Heeseung had been your crush for years. Since before he became Gryffindor Captain, before he learned to smile so recklessly, before you realized how impossible it was to be near him without wanting to touch him.

And now he was standing right there, in front of your table, with that damn smile and that spark in his eyes.

“Lost, or just here to learn how to live a little?”

he said, leaning on the table casually, way too close for your nerves.

And as always, you looked for the quickest way out. Too bad that, deep down, you always stayed.

You didn’t reply. Instead, you shot a pleading glance at Sunghoon, begging him silently to intervene.

But he… chuckled, utterly merciless, and returned to his parchment-like nothing had happened.

Traitor.

Heeseung, of course, took your hesitation as an unspoken invitation. He grabbed a spare chair, dragged it up next to yours with that “anywhere I stand is mine” attitude, and sat down so close your arm brushed his.

You slowly turned to face him, your eyes quietly scanning his face.

Red hair, though you could see the dark roots peeking through — as if the dye itself was losing patience. His eyes, deer-like and warm brown, always looked like they were about to laugh at something only he understood.

His nose, marked by a slight bump — a proud souvenir from a Quidditch clash — gave his rogue-ish face a bit of edge and his lips… Merlin, his lips were made to be kissed.

They’d kissed too many girls, in your opinion — not that you knew for sure, but you’d heard him laugh too many times with someone in the corridor outside the dorms.

Under his carelessly worn robes, his shoulders were broad and his chest solid. When he leaned on his knees to talk to you, the fabric of his shirt stretched tight over his arms with lazy confidence.

He was magical but looked more like he’d stepped out of a Muggle magazine: rolled-up jeans, a chain around his neck, sleeves pushed up.

And that damn confidence.

“Why are you so close?” you finally asked, your tone neutral but edged. “There’s plenty of empty seats.”

He leaned in even closer. His face was now just inches from yours.

He closed his eyes for a second, and inhaled slowly—dramatically.

“Vanilla… honey… cookie?”

You froze.

Not only was that your scent, but he knew about your obsession with Madam Cookies’ sweets. It was a weakness you tried to hide—one he had just used as a weapon.

“If you don’t like my perfume, you’re free to leave,” you shot back, not breaking eye contact.

Heeseung clutched his chest like you’d wounded him.

“Right in the heart. You can’t be this cruel to me, Your Highness.”

You rolled your eyes again. That nickname got on your nerves.

And yet… deep down, it made you smile. Though you’d never admit it—not to him.

“Hoon… how do you even tolerate him?” you asked, eyes still locked on that shameless grin.

-It was a childhood spell gone wrong. Like a blood bond, but worse,-

Sunghoon replied flatly, not even looking up as he kept writing.

“Love you too, buddy,” Hee murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder—for just a second too long.

You pulled away, heart pounding. And then, as if nothing had happened, came the real trap question.

“Hey… this Saturday. Are you free?” You eyed him suspiciously.

“Is that a trick question?” He laughed—that laugh. The deep one that made your insides hum, even when you didn’t want them to.

“Nope. I just wanna see you live a little without a wand stuck up your ass, that’s all.”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Wow. How romantic.”

“I’m serious. There’s the secret Prefects’ party. I convinced Hoon to come—though I’m probably gonna have to spike his pumpkin juice to get him to dance.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes and grunted something like,

-I’ve never been drunk enough to find one of your plans appealing.-

“Come on, Y/n,” Heeseung pushed, that spark in his eyes lighting up again,

“You owe me at least one night of trying not to hate me.”

You looked at Sunghoon with a questioning expression, almost hoping for a last-minute escape route.

-I’m going with T/L,- he said calmly. -You can come with us. L/T, Heeseung’s sister, will probably be there too… You’ll get along.-

You nodded, trying to mask the quickening rhythm of your heart—and right then, Heeseung leaned in toward you.

Once again, he invaded your personal space. No permission. As always.

“So… is that a yes?”

His eyes sparkled, his voice low, amused, but sharply attentive.

You clenched your hands beneath your skirt to steady the trembling.

“I’ll be there.”

The grin that spread across his face promised absolutely nothing good.

That Ravenclaw’s too good at hiding. But I’ve seen her. The way she looks at me when she thinks I’m not watching. The way she bites her lip when I get close...

She’s not just shy. She’s sharp. A weapon wrapped in velvet. And I want to be the one who opens her.

Saturday. That party. She won’t run. And if she does... I’ll chase her. Heeseung thought.

Three days later, you were in your room—your bed a war zone of rejected outfits and runaway socks. You stared at your wardrobe like it was supposed to give you an answer.

Then, a sharp knock on the window. An owl. You immediately recognized the elegant handwriting: L/T Lee.

You opened the letter with a curious smile. Inside, along with the message, was a moving photo.

L/T striking a pose: a tiny black skirt (and it was literally freezing outside), no tights, a skin-tight top showing off every curve, and makeup that basically screamed look at me—or regret it forever.

"I knew you'd be coming too! Send me your outfit, I wanna see! Can't wait to spend the night with you."

Signed with a floating little heart.

You smiled, cheeks a little flushed, and snapped a mirror selfie.

Black skirt, but with sheer black tights—for dignity and survival. A soft, slightly fitted gray sweater embroidered with a tiny blue raven over the heart. Hair down, sleek, flawless. Makeup? Light. But anyone who looked closely would see the work behind it.

Seconds later, L/T replied:

"Babe, you look adorable. But trust me—after tonight, you won’t just be ‘adorable’ anymore. Get ready."

You’d been frozen in front of the mirror for ten minutes. Your lower lip suffering under your teeth, your mind full of scenes you didn’t want to imagine… but did anyway.

“It’s just a party… right? Just a party.”

Then—someone knocked.

You opened the door to find Sunghoon, dressed to perfection, letting out a soft whistle like you were a freshly brewed potion.

-Wow, Y/n. Gryffindor’s not ready for this.-

You gave a shy, embarrassed smile. But it was nothing compared to what happened next.

T/L appeared behind him. The Slytherin girl gave you a head-to-toe scan with those sharp, flawless eyes, then crossed her arms.

'And who exactly are you trying to impress, little Raven?'

You lowered your gaze. “No one.”

But Hoon chuckled.

“Mmmh… I’d say a certain redhead who plays Quidditch and calls you ‘Your Highness.’”

T/L turned to you with a wicked little smirk.

'Oh. Heeseung Lee, huh?'

You didn’t answer. What was the point?

'Come here,' T/L said firmly, pulling you gently by the arm. 'I’ve got you. Just a little more lipstick… a touch of mystery… and we’ll see if that Gryffindor can keep his distance. Just a dab on the lips, trust me…'

T/L was chasing you around with a bordeaux lip pencil in hand, and your expression screamed Golden Snitch on the run.

“I told you no. And if you put that red lipstick on me, I swear I’ll disapparate.”

The Slytherin rolled her eyes dramatically, but finally settled for the bordeaux—it brought out the color of your lips in a subtle, elegant way. Sensual, but not too loud. The result still made you feel… different. Bolder. More like a woman.

You all rushed down the stairs together, racing through corridors still glowing with floating torches. When Hoon raised a hand to shush you, your heart skipped a beat. There were professors just around the corner.

But with a snap of his fingers, Sunghoon’s invisibility spell wrapped around you like a cloak.

“Thanks, Hoon. I really didn’t feel like polishing Snape’s cauldrons tonight…”

After ten minutes of tunnels, hidden staircases, and whispering wall-passages, you finally made it to the catacombs under the school. There, the stone walls opened into an enchanted hall bathed in floating lights—amethyst and green. The music was loud, and the air pulsed with magic, sweat, and adrenaline.

Witches and wizards were everywhere: Drinking from enchanted goblets that changed flavor with every sip. Casting light and illusion spells that sparkled in midair. Dancing like tomorrow didn’t exist.

You stuck close to T/L, trying not to be swallowed by the chaos, but of course she nudged you with her elbow.

'You look so cute… but I’m waiting for the moment he sees you.'

“Who?” you asked, feigning innocence, scanning the room.

'Don’t play dumb… him. Your Quidditch boy.'

You stepped into a smaller lounge space, separated from the main room by a golden curtain. Inside were Jay, Jake, Sunoo, Jungwon, Niki—all sprawled across floating sofas, drifting incense, and bottles of magical liquor that changed color with every laugh.

And then, of course… Heeseung.

He was leaned back on a dark couch, talking to a Slytherin girl—sleek hair, feline eyes, legs that went on forever—and you immediately looked away. A sharp sting of jealousy twisted in your stomach.

Pathetic. He’s not yours.

Before you could even look for a wall to melt into, a familiar, high-pitched voice cut through the music:

<Y/N!!>

L/T Lee, Heeseung’s sister, came flying toward you and threw her arms around your neck.

<MERLIN, look at you! Did you come here to hex him or seduce him?!>

She gave your hips a playful smack, a mischievous grin on her face.

T/L giggled from where she was leaning on Hoon, and in that moment—right as his sister said your name—Heeseung looked up.

At first, it was just to follow the voice. But then… He saw you.

And he nearly choked on his drink.

Oh. My. Bloody. Merlin. Is that her? That’s Y/n? What the hell is she wearing?!

Black tights. Short skirt. That sweater clings to her chest like it was made to torture me. And the lipstick—bloody hell, her lips are tinted too.

I shouldn’t stare. But I can’t not stare. If she looks at me right now, I swear to—

The Slytherin girl next to him said something, but Heeseung didn’t even hear it. His eyes were locked on you, as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, legs crossed in that shy way of yours. Adorable enough to drive me mad. Hot enough to make me lose my damn mind, he thought, licking his lower lip.

With Heeseung’s sister at your side, you walked up to the floating bar—bottles drifting midair, pouring themselves into glasses, mixing magical drinks that shifted color and taste depending on the drinker’s mood.

<Listen, Queenie… you might wanna loosen up. It’s gonna be a long night.>

L/T handed you a clear glass with a pale pink liquid that shimmered ever so slightly. You muttered something like, “I don’t drink things that sparkle,” but took a small sip anyway.

It tasted like peach, spice… and impending trouble.

Then it happened—cheers, whistles, a loud roar from the crowd. You turned around sharply.

Jake, the most unhinged of the Gryffindors, was standing wobbly on a table with his arms spread wide, shouting:

“Everyone sit! Circle up! Magical Truth or Dare—no excuses!”

You looked around for Sunghoon, but he was already plopping down with a smirk that said he was thriving in the chaos. You shot him a death glare.

L/T grabbed your elbow excitedly and tugged you down next to her, plopping herself into the circle with a satisfied grin. Then she rested her head on your shoulder.

And you thought: The Lees. Always touching. Always in your space. Always... so much.

But for once, you didn’t push her away.

Jake made a golden bottle float to the center of the circle—it crackled softly with electric sparks—and he cleared his throat with dramatic flair before announcing:

✨ 𝑹𝑼𝑳𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑭 “𝑴𝑨𝑮𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑳 𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑻𝑯 𝑶𝑹 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑬” ✨

Whoever spins the bottle can’t skip the next round. If you hesitate, the bottle will flick you on the forehead. (Yes, it hurts.)

If you choose Truth, a revelation charm will track your heartbeat and emotions. If you lie, you’ll be sprayed with a reeking potion in front of everyone.

If you choose Dare, the task will be magically bound. You have to do it. Or else, your wand will quack like a duck every time you cast a spell—for 24 hours.

Every three rounds, the bottle triggers a "Spicy Strike": an extra bold truth or dare, chosen by the previous player.

Touching the bottle with your hands is forbidden. Magic or your tongue only. (Yes, you read that right.)

A wave of gasps and scandalous laughter swept the room—especially at the last rule.

“Jake, you’re sick!” Sunoo laughed.

“Did you come up with this or was it Fred and George Weasley?” Niki asked, swirling his drink.

Jake just shrugged, grinning proudly. “I perfected it. With a sexy twist.”

Then he gave the bottle a flick of his wand.

It spun. And spun. And spun... Until it stopped.

Right in front of his cousin—a red-faced Gryffindor, stunning but pissed.

“Truth or Dare, cousin dearest?” Jake asked, wearing his usual devilish smirk.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Not one of the options,” Jake laughed.

The whole circle erupted with laughter.

And as the night kicked off—filled with teasing, giggles, and glances hotter than firewhisky—you were already looking for an escape route.

You felt exposed. Out of your comfort zone. Too much. And yet, deep down, you knew it was only a matter of time before the bottle pointed at you.

And you knew exactly who was silently wishing for that to happen.

Lee Heeseung.

And his gaze was already on you—like a promise you didn’t want to keep... And Merlin, how badly you wanted to.

The bottle had already done its show. Five spins. Five laughs. Five tiny disasters.

The last Spicy Strike had landed on Jay, forcing him—by magical dare—to kiss Jake’s cousin on the cheek… and then bite her ear while whispering a line that only a charming bastard would dare say.

Too bad Jake’s cousin was a Gryffindor. And Jay? A Slytherin. Explosive combo.

And the line?

“You’re the perfect distraction from my next disaster.” Then he winked.

Screams. Whistles. A drink spilled. The scent of chaos in the air.

Now, it was Hoon’s girlfriend’s turn—Slytherin queen, eyeliner sharp as a blade, tongue even sharper. The bottle spun and stopped right in front of you.

The room exploded in cheers and giggles. Jungwon raised his hands and said:

“Hey, be gentle, yeah? Our little Ravenclaw’s delicate.” (He said it playfully, but his gaze was protective.)

Sunghoon whispered something to his girlfriend, likely shielding you, and she rolled her eyes before glancing your way. Then—she looked at Heeseung.

He was already toying with the rim of his glass, eyes peering over the edge, that damn smirk of his screaming “I know you're screwed… and I like it.”

'Little Raven,' she purred, voice smooth like velvet but laced with menace, 'It’s your turn. Spicy Strike! Dare... or extra spicy Truth?'

You stiffened. Everyone was staring. You dropped your gaze.

“...Extra spicy Truth,” you muttered—more to yourself than anyone else.

She smiled like a cat staring at a trapped mouse.

'Good. Then tell me…' She let the silence build, everyone leaning in. The lights were low. The candle flames flickered.

'Have you ever... fantasized about someone while touching yourself? And if so… whose name did you moan while your fingers were buried between your thighs, teasing your clit?'

Silence. Deafening.

Your cheeks erupted in heat. Your eyes widened. You could not answer that.

“I… no… I mean, I don’t want to answer…”

-Oh come on!- Jake laughed. -That’s a tame one! The punishment’s worse if you lie!-

Tame? Sure, maybe for him. But for you? It was nuclear.

And the punishment? You didn’t even want to know. Jake might have puppy energy, but deep down he was a demon dressed like Prince Charming.

'Come on, Raven girl,' Sunghoon’s girlfriend murmured, leaning in close, 'You don’t want to unleash the Quacking Wand…'

A chill ran down your spine. You clenched your lips—then, in the smallest voice, as if whispering could somehow make it less real, you breathed:

“...Heeseung.” One beat of silence. Then— Screams. Whistles. Applause. Someone spit out their drink.

Heeseung’s sister shrieked,

<I knew it!> Hoon’s girlfriend was laughing so hard she was folded over.

Jungwon gave you a look—half amused, half shook. Sunghoon covered his mouth, stunned that you’d not only said heeseung name... but that you even survived a magical truth round.

But you? You didn’t see any of them anymore.

Only him.

The game continued. The bottle spun. Laughter, awkward moments, some suggestive jokes, and then, once again, Jake made it spin—but this time, he muttered a spell under his breath. The bottle gleamed for a split second—just enough to be noticed—and stopped on Heeseung. 'Dare or Truth, big brother?' Jake asked, eyes gleaming with mischief. Heeseung smiled, relaxed, confident. “Truth? You already know them all. Dare.” Jake slowly turned towards you, then back at Heeseung with a wicked grin. 'Tell everyone… who’s the most beautiful girl at the party, and who would you spend ten minutes with in the Room of Dark Desires.' An explosion of noise. Whistles. Someone yelled “HOT!” and a bottle spilled. The atmosphere shifted instantly. You? You didn’t even look at him. You avoided him as if your gaze might summon him, but deep down… deep inside your heart, it rang out like a damn battle.

One part of you wanted to run away. The other screamed: Choose me. Choose me. But what if he said someone else’s name? Your heart would shatter. Jealousy. Anger. Humiliation. Heeseung looked up at Jake. “Are you kidding me?” Jake shrugged, satisfied. 'I’m serious. It’s the rule. No shortcuts, Captain.' Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his red hair, making it messier. He looked around. Everyone was staring, then his eyes locked onto yours, slow and deliberate.

“The most beautiful?” He turned fully towards you. He studied you, from the edge of your black skirt, to the stockings, to the raven embroidered on your sweater. Then his eyes—those eyes that couldn’t tear themselves away from yours. “Her.” His voice was clear. Firm. “The Ravenclaw with the iceberg look… and fire under her skin.” You... stopped breathing, and Jake whistled. The girls screamed. Heeseung’s sister turned towards you with wide eyes and a grin that said “I knew it!” But he wasn’t finished. He leaned back, relaxed, and with a grin that made your knees tremble, he added: “And who would I spend ten minutes with in the Room of Desires?” He paused, then licked his lips just enough to be noticed, never taking his eyes off you. “With her. Always her.”

Silence. Then chaos. But you… you were frozen. Hands gripping your knees. Heart pounding against your ribs. Eyes glued to his. Heeseung wasn’t joking. You could tell by the way he didn’t laugh anymore. He wasn’t teasing. He was looking at you like he’d already decided that tonight, you’d be his.

Heeseung slowly rose from the couch, his empty glass left abandoned on the table as if it no longer mattered. He approached you, his steps slow and sure, seeming to echo louder than the screams around you. When he was right in front of you, he extended his hand. Two silver rings, one on his index and one on his middle finger. His skin was warmer than yours, rougher. His hand was large. Definitely too large for yours.

You glanced at his sister, who winked at you. Sunghoon gave a thumbs-up. T/l blew you a kiss with a mischievous little witchy grin. You gripped Heeseung’s hand, and he chuckled softly. “Oh. So the cold Ravenclaw knows how to hold hands…”

You walked towards the door, and as you passed Jake, you shot him a death glare. “Ten minutes. Not one more.” Jake made the promise sign with his fingers, but as soon as you turned around, he shared a knowing glance with the others. 'What about... the whole night?' He said quietly, but not too quietly. Sunghoon: “No. No, Jake. Come on.” Jungwon: “Are you guys insane?” Heeseung’s sister: “Do it, they need it. Trust me.” T/l: “It’s the only way to stop being shy and, you know, get to know each other.”

Voices overlapped, laughter, shouts. Jake raised his wand, murmured an ancient spell, and a magical timer appeared on the door: "10 HOURS" The door clicked shut, and neither of you heard a thing.

Inside the room, the atmosphere was different. Dim, almost red light, floating candles, and a faint Muggle jazz tune playing in the background. In the center… an enormous bed, with black and gold sheets. Heeseung was already sitting on the edge, legs spread apart, one hand propping him up. His eyes were on you, and he wasn’t sparing you a single thing. You stood frozen in front of the door, back rigid, hands clenched into fists inside your skirt, eyes cast down. You muttered something between your teeth, more to yourself than to him: “Why the hell did I agree... idiot, idiot…”

Heeseung chuckled, tilting his head to the side. “Did you just call yourself an idiot or me?” His tone was playful, but beneath it, there was that low note, the kind of voice that seeps into your bones.

You looked up to scorch him with a glare. He was staring at you. His gaze was like a caress you hadn’t asked for... but you desperately wanted. “Look, if you’re regretting it, we can just talk…” He smiled. Slowly. Bastard. Beautiful. “Or… we can make these ten minutes interesting. You know… not to waste time, or…” He stood up and after a couple of steps, his hand brushed lightly against the fabric of your sweater. “You were just waiting for this.”

You raised your eyes, meeting his with an expression somewhere between anger and frustration. You responded, sharply: “I only agreed because I didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of everyone. Not that you’d be capable of understanding…”

Heeseung leaned in slightly towards you, his warm breath grazing your skin as he whispered, with a smile that promised nothing good: “You’re lying badly, Ravenclaw. For someone who’s one of the most talented witches of the new generation, you sure seem… inexperienced.”

A shiver ran down your spine, but you had no intention of showing him how deeply his words affected you. But he didn’t stop. He sniffed the air around you, his gaze becoming more penetrating. “You know…” he said, his tone almost affectionate, but laced with a certain cruelty, “I bought the same perfume as you, the one you wore the day I saw you at the Prefects' pool. I’ll never forget that moment.”

Your eyes widened, but you couldn’t say anything, only a quiet murmur barely escaping your lips. “Don’t say anything, Ravenclaw. I know what you’re thinking. But you’re wrong…” He smiled a triumphant smile.

“Even though I wear the same perfume, it’s never the same when it comes from your skin…” Before you could react, Heeseung caught you off guard. He moved slowly towards your neck, and with a small kiss, a gesture as sweet as it was dangerous, his tongue slid along your skin in a subtly erotic movement. A muffled moan escaped you when you felt his warm skin enveloping you. You felt fragile, and your mind was beginning to falter. You clenched your hands beneath your skirt, but it wasn’t enough. Every part of you was in turmoil.

“You can’t run from me, Ravenclaw…” he said, his voice holding no room for escape, as his hands moved closer to you. He took your small hands and placed them against his chest. His heartbeat was racing, and you could feel it through the fabric. He made you feel how alive he was, how his presence was overwhelming you. Every inch of him was invading your space. Another kiss, deeper, more insistent, and then, while his breath brushed against you, his mouth lowered to your neck, leaving small hickeys that made you tremble. You could feel his heat against you, every movement, every gesture, as if he was playing with you. Every word he whispered, every touch, felt like a challenge.

“Say my name,” he told you, his voice lower, darker, as his hands began to slide down your body. When you finally moaned, in a whisper, his name escaped your lips: “Hee…” A triumphant smile spread across his face as he degraded you sweetly: “You’re so easy to confuse, Ravenclaw. It’s almost… fun.”

His words were like a whip strike, but also like a warm embrace, putting you in a dilemma. You didn’t know what to do anymore.

Your hands were still resting on his chest, warm beneath the light fabric of his shirt. His heartbeat was strong, urgent, almost unsettling in its sincerity. Heeseung’s gaze was low, fixed on your lips, then slowly traveled up to your eyes, his pupils slightly dilated. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, Ravenclaw?” he whispered, his voice hoarse, his lips barely brushing your skin. “You always act so composed, so superior to everything. But underneath those tight sweaters and those sharp responses… you’re just a girl who needs to be seen, touched… kissed.” You felt your heart pounding in your chest. You’d never been good at handling moments like this. Strong emotions made you uncomfortable, and with him… with him, it was even worse. “You have a terrible imagination, Lee Heeseung,” you muttered, trying to hide the tremor in your voice. But your hand was still on his chest. Still there. He chuckled low, amused. “If only you knew how many wrong thoughts I have about you when I see you walking down the hallways in those knee-high boots with that ‘don’t touch me’ look. You’re so prim and proper… but under that armor, baby, you’re almost trembling.” He took you by the waist with disarming gentleness, and slowly his fingers slid under the edge of your sweater. His hands were warm against your cold skin, and you jumped slightly at the touch. “Cold,” he whispered, smiling. “Let me take care of you… I’ll warm you up tonight.” “Merlin, you’re awful.” You shot him a mock annoyed glance, but the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. “Aweful? No, Ravenclaw. I’m exactly what you’ve been wanting for months. And you know it.” His voice lowered, almost a sweet growl, and he brushed his lips against your neck. A kiss. Then another. A hickey. A slow lick. “You always smell like vanilla, honey, and cookies…” he murmured against your skin. “And I still remember the first time I saw you in the Prefects’ pool.” Your breathing became more irregular. You felt your heart galloping. His hands were large, confident, warm. His presence was overwhelming, almost consuming. Then, without another word, he kissed you.

It was a slow, carnal kiss, almost reverent at first. His lips moved on yours as if savoring a sweet he’d long desired. But then it grew more intense. Deeper. He took your bottom lip between his teeth and gently bit down, and you moaned his name. A whisper. A plea. “Hee…”

He smiled against your lips. “I knew you called me that when you thought about me. It’s so cute… so damn sexy coming from your shy little mouth.”

One of his hands slipped between your back and your clothes, holding you gently. The other slid up your side, as if trying to memorize every inch of your skin. “You know,” he murmured in your ear, “I can’t even look at you anymore without imagining how you’d react if I pinned you against a wall and whispered all the things I want to do to you… and only you.”

“Heeseung…” you faltered. Your voice was weak, your mind in chaos.

“Just tell me one thing,” he cut in. “Do you want me to stop?”

A tense silence. Your breath was uneven. Your hands still rested on his chest. Then, in a soft voice, your gaze low but firm, you whispered: “No… but only if you promise to be gentle.”

Heeseung smiled—one of those smiles that was both victorious and tender. “With you? Always. But don’t expect me to resist you for long, my little Ravenclaw.”

The only sound was your shared breathing—heavy, tangled with your quickened heartbeats. Your fingers were still laced behind Heeseung’s neck, his eyes low, lips flushed and slightly swollen. He looked down at you, legs spread, his gaze clouded with raw desire, but there was something deeper too—like he was studying every reaction you made.

“I saw you tremble when I kissed you there,” he whispered, brushing your neck with his nose, then his lips. “Don’t pretend you don’t want this, little Ravenclaw… your body speaks a lot louder than that sharp tongue of yours.”

You swallowed hard, your voice barely audible. “Heeseung… it was only supposed to be ten minutes…”

He chuckled, his voice scraping low and rough. “And who cares about ten minutes?” he said, voice husky. “I want you all night.”

He lifted you effortlessly and settled you on his muscular thighs. Instinctively, you tried to slide off, embarrassed—but his hand, the one with the rings, firmly stopped you at your waist. “Don’t even think about running,” he murmured, pushing you forward just slightly, letting you feel all the tension beneath you. “Stay right here, Ravenclaw… you’re too cute when you’re flustered.”

His fingers slid under the hem of your skirt, grazing the fabric of your stockings. You shivered, eyes wide, hands trembling on his shoulders.

“H-Hee… I…”

“Shhh,” he hushed you with a soft kiss on your cheek—a gesture far more chaste than the fire in his hands. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you since that day in the Prefects’ pool? You were wearing that damn midnight blue swimsuit… and I could only think of you. You, and how much I wanted you to be mine. No excuses. No fake teasing. Just you and me.”

Your body started moving on its own, pulled by the tangled mess of curiosity and desire that Heeseung had always made you feel.

“I don’t know what I’m doing…” you murmured against his shoulder.

He took your face gently between his hands, thumbs brushing your flushed cheekbones. “I know,” he whispered. “But don’t worry. Let me take care of it.”

Heeseung took the sweater in his hands, touching the texture with his fingers. He pulled him slowly upwards, without taking his eyes off you. You lowered your eyes to his hands. They were big, warm, slightly calloused. Hands that knew exactly what they wanted you nodded. Silent, but full of consent. He smiled. “You're a good girl.” “I am...” you whispered, in a low voice, as you raised your arms to let your sweater slip off. When the cloth fell to the floor, Heeseung stood motionless for a moment. Underneath, you were wearing a dark blue bra, with white lace details. Elegant, simple. But on you ... it was pure curse.

” Christ, " he said quietly, almost with adoration. He stroked your bare side, climbing slowly. " You really are a stylish little corvette, huh?” Then he added in a softer tone. " Perfect. So perfect.” Your breasts moved slightly with each breath. A little uncovered, pushed forward, the white lace highlighted the softness of the skin. Heeseung leaned over. He kissed you one bend, then the other. And then she gently sucked you a breast flap, leaving a wet kiss on the hot skin. Her red hair tickled her skin and you laughed quietly, surprised, touching the back of his head with your fingers. “You tickle me yourself, " you whispered, blushing. He looked up, his dark eyes shining. “Don't look away. Watch me adore you.”

A slow kiss, then another, the lips closing around the softness of your breasts, moist, firm, you bite off a lip so as not to moan too loudly. I looked away, instinctively. Heeseung immediately noticed her.

“Hey.” He took your face with one hand, gently forcing her to go back and look at it. “Don't be ashamed. You are very beautiful and mine” he kissed your exposed skin, then pulled back slightly, lowering his gaze to the center of his chest. "But now” Hands already on the bra hook. “Now I want to see you all. With nothing. Just you. Just me. And the way you tremble under my hands.” The click of the bra opening seemed to ring out in the room like a forbidden spell. Heeseung slid it slowly down from your shoulders, and when the tissue fell to the ground, your breasts bounced slightly, free, swollen, tense under the repressed desire.

He bit his lip and giggled quietly, with that bloody arrogant Gryffindor smile. "Shit ... look at that beauty. Do you have any idea how much I imagined you like that?” you were red to the ears, you lured him, hands in his messy red hair, and he immediately sank his mouth to one of his nipples, sucking slow, deep.

His tongue played with the outstretched bud while his other hand slipped under the skirt, barely touching the elastic of the black stockings you were wearing, invisible to everyone ... except her attentive eyes. "These stockings ..." he whispered against the skin, — “they are another fucking provocation, you know?” The fingers began to move lower, touching the thin fabric of your underwear, passing over the clitoris with firm but slow movements, as if he knew exactly where to hit you to drive you crazy. “So wet for me... and I thought you were all books and sarcasm. You're the dirtiest Ravenclaw I've ever touched.”

"H-Heeseung..." you groaned, the body shaking under his hands. Your mind still struggled between lucidity and abandonment, between cynical rationality and that desire that you could no longer deny but when you felt the nipple pulled between your teeth, slowly but forcefully enough to make your back vibrate, you screamed its name.

"Seungie!” He laughed, satisfied, letting go of the bud with a thread of burr that still connected it to his tongue. He licked the drop off, then looked at you with an expression so focused that it seemed hypnotic. “You drive me crazy. These boobs are a drug. I swear one day I'll fuck them with my cock, and you'll pray you don't come right away.”

You looked at him with big eyes, half-open lips. “You're sick ... " you said, trying to sound stern, but your voice trembled. “And you are my secret little prefect, the one who admonishes me while she gets her tits sucked with her legs spread out, " he chuckled, lifting you up with ease, laying you on the bed, her hair strewn on the pillow, her bra thrown to the floor, her breasts still scarred by her bites, and her skirt pulled up almost to her waist.

He leaned over you, his dark eyes devouring you. “Now ... I want to hear how good you are with your mouth, Ravenclaw.” Heeseung's black shirt slid down from his broad shoulders with almost theatrical slowness. Underneath he had nothing, just warm, smooth skin, dotted with a few moles and barely marked by the well-defined muscles and in the middle of his chest, a thin silver chain. The pendant was simple, black and matte, but perfect on him; you brushed it with your fingers. “It's beautiful... " you muttered He smiled, barely tilting his head towards his touch. “The necklace or the boy underneath?” The voice was velvety, but playful, full of understatement. You looked up, feigning a mock Ravenclaw professor grimace. “Shut up. Don't spoil the moment.” Heeseung burst out laughing, running a hand through his matted red hair. “Can I ... kiss you?” you asked, in a low voice, hinting at my chest. He dropped on the mattress with his arms behind his head, his smile still on his lips.

You stooped slowly, and you began to leave little kisses on his bare chest. Light, almost shy at first. Then more determined. One bite under the collarbone, another further down, on the left side of the chest. His lips drew slow paths on his hot skin, his breath short and hungry. "Do you like...?” you asked him slowly, after a bolder bite. Heeseung moaned low, and stammered something incomprehensible, laughed softly. “What did you say, Seungie?” You looked at him with an innocent air, but your fingers slid down his hips. "I ... christ, Baby" His voice was more hoarse, less confident. A nice change, you made you even closer, slowly kissing him all over the chest, then descending towards the abs, with the tongue leaving an invisible trail and the teeth barely scratching. Heeseung leaned his forearms on the bed to hold himself up, looking at you with increasingly dark eyes. “You know you're beautiful when you fly to Quidditch, don't you?” He raised an eyebrow, giggling. “So you admit that you come to the matches for me?”

you pretended to think, then bowed your head and slowly kissed the skin under his navel. The tongue made a small circle. “…perhaps.” Heeseung moaned again, a choked, pleasure-filled sound, and let slip another babble, this time more disjointed. You looked up and saw that his cheeks were red, flushed to his ears. "Aww,” you whispered, licking a sensitive spot next to his hip bone," is my Gryffindor melting?” He bit his lip, but his smile trembled. "Keep it up... and I don't answer for myself.” you looked at him, with that air still timid but more and more confident. "Maybe that's just what I want...”

You pulled him down slowly. And when they were down enough, Heeseung's erection snapped free, with warm, taut skin and a small shiny mark on the tip. Your eyes opened slightly, not so much because of the size, but because of the instinct with which your body reacted to that sight. "Oh, Io “What's his name?” Heeseung looked at you confused, still a little lost from contact, his chest rising slowly. "Eh ... what? ”

“Your friend here” you replied, barely touching him with your fingers. "All boys give him a name, don't they? You're not going to say that you, the Quidditch champion, didn't baptize him.” He laughed, hoarse, his eyes shining with pleasure. “You're out...” Then he added, tilting his head with a half-grin: “You should choose it. You're the first Ravenclaw who can make him cry with joy." You bit your lip, looked at it from above and whispered: “Then get ready, Seungie ... that I'm about to become your favorite subject.”

"Never done, right?"he asked, touching your cheek with the back of your fingers. you nodded, your voice closed in your throat. "Don't worry. I'll drive you. And you'll be great, little Ravenclaw." Slowly, he took your hand and guided it towards his already swollen, hot erection; you touched him, hesitantly, fingers closing around him with fear. Hee barely winced, then laughed softly. "Don't get too tight... you don't want to kill me. Use your tongue, not your teeth. And remember: breathe with your nose."

You bent down slowly, your lips opened and your eyes turned on him as if you were about to face a forbidden spell. You licked slowly, shy, but hungry to hear him cum inside you and you slowly sucked his cock that slowly pushed more and more inside your beautiful mouth and Hee moaned. "Very good. Well. Turn your tongue around the tip ... mmm yeah, fuck, just like that."you wanted to make him feel good and every time you turned your tongue you sucked him he would squeeze your hair while you took it in your mouth.

"Watch me do it. I want to see those Ravenclaw eyes sucking me." Meanwhile, his other hand slipped under your skirt, finding you wet, hot. "Christ, you're already soaked... It turns you on to suck it, doesn't it? So shy and already dirty to me." His fingers stroked you through your panties, then underneath. Two fingers went in without warning you, slow, deep, curving towards that point that made you tremble and you moaned with your mouth full, tears in your eyes, but it did not stop you.

Heeseung pumped his long fingers inside your vaginal walls and felt how slimy and excited you were about all the overstimulations you were feeling at once, pushing a little more inside your mouth, whispering in your ear: "Look how good you are. My smart little slut. You like it, huh? Let me use you like that. I'll make you feel good while you take everything down my throat." You nodded, panting, as he pumped slowly into his mouth and your fingers moved inside you faster, wet and precise. "Suck it well ... yes... just squeeze a little with your lips now. God, this is what you were born for."

His breathing became heavier. His body trembled. "I'm coming..." he said in a low but rough voice, gently pulling her hair to look at her face. "Do you want me to take him out?" You said no, eyes bright but determined. He moaned slowly, then pushed with the last lick, and came deep into her mouth; you swallowed everything, while his fingers still fucked her slowly, to prolong his pleasure and you screamed from pleasure mind you screamed that you were going to cum and you combined a nice mess between his fingers and his cock while you quartered your excitement between his fingers

You were still shaking, your legs stretched, your throat burned. Its taste was still dripping on your tongue, hot, salty, dirty. And he looked at you from above, lying under you, with a bastard and satisfied smile on his lips. His hands did not stop touching you, stroking your hips, squeezing your breasts, running your thumbs over your still tense nipples. "Christ, baby ..." he whispered in a hoarse voice, "I can't believe you made yourself come only with my tongue in your throat and my seed in your mouth." Blushing, breathing still irregular.

He laughed, one of those bastard captain smiles of his who thought he always had everything under control. And maybe, at that moment, he really had it. "Look how you tremble..." he took you by the side, still making you feel the hard tip of his cock pressing against your wet folds. "You're so wet that I could slip in even if I breathed harder." You groaned slowly, looking down. But he took your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. "No no, no eyes down. Watch me tell you how fucking you are when you're so... open. Vulnerable. Mine." Your skin was on fire, your heart went crazy. "Hee..." you muttered, almost pleading.

He kissed you again, with that sweet, perverse heat of his, stirring his tongue to yours as he swayed you flat on his cock, still waiting to come in. He was torturing you. Slowly. Deliberately. "You want me to come in, don't you?» You nodded, breathless. He raised an eyebrow. "Uh uh. With that mouth you did wonders a few minutes ago. Don't think you can get away with a nod. Tell me you want it." The redness rose to your ears. Your heart was beating in your throat. But the voice came out, uncertain but hungry. "I want it... I want your cock inside me. Now.» He smiled, perverse. "So I like you. Very good. But now tell me ... do you want to ride me like a good girl who takes the initiative, or do you want me to fuck you as you deserve, while you are lying and helpless under me?»

"I want you to take me," you answered without hesitation, "I want it to be yours. The first time... I want you to ruin me." His eyes lit up. He lifted you effortlessly, rolled you over on your back, and positioned himself between your wide-open legs.

"My pussy, you're so swollen I could get lost in here." He ran the tip along your intimate lips, barely touching you, making you jerk every time. "Next time though... "you said to him amid the groans, " I want to ride you. I want to drive you as crazy as you are with me.» He stopped, looked at you. "Next time?" He smiled, then sank into you with one blow, deep and red-hot, making you scream his name. "Who the fuck said there will be a next time?"

he whispered with a grin, starting to move inside you with slow but intense blows, as if he wanted to make you feel every single inch. You clasped him with your legs, moaning with each lunge. Tell me again," he ordered, as he took you more forcefully. "Tell me you want me. Tell me you're mine."

"I'm fucking yours, I'm all yours," you yelled, sinking your nails into his back.

Hee's cock began to hammer you with a force that left you breathless. His thrusts were wild, fierce, like he was using you — like you were just a rag doll to fuck until you fell unconscious. And you let him do it. In fact, you wanted it. You were looking for him. Your cunt sucked him with greed, almost hungry, tight around him as if he never wanted to let him go. "Look how you hold me... Christ, you seem made only to make me come..." he growled through his teeth, as he continued to push, deeper and deeper. "A slut for the captain... that's who you are, isn't it?» You gasped, your gaze lost in pleasure, your hands clinging to his sides to guide him, to keep him still inside, stronger, deeper. "Do you like that? Huh? "he continued, with that nickname he only used when he wanted to provoke you. "All dignified in class... and now look how you scream under me.»

His silver necklace dangled between your breasts, frosty, making you shudder every time she touched your sweaty skin. It was the only cold touch in the midst of all that heat, and it drove you crazy. Hee grabbed one of your legs and lifted it firmly, resting it on his shoulder. It penetrated you deeper, into a new, burning angle. When he hit you right there-that very secret spot-you screamed.

"Oh God—! Hee!" He smiled, satisfied, looking at you from above. "I found it, huh? Your sweet spot... your fucking forbidden zone... " he pushed again, accurate, sinking on your G-spot mercilessly. "You are nothing more than a sweet, horny little corvette.» He teased you, but his tone was lustful, low, dirty — and exciting as hell. "You're coming, aren't you?"he whispered to you, as the rhythm increased, the more violent blows, the hand caressing your face as if he wanted to cradle you and torture you together. "Look how you cry for me ... You are so beautiful, with tears in your eyes and pussy begging me."

"S-I'm ... I'm coming..." you stammered, unable to control the trembling body, overwhelmed by the constant stimulation, his touch, his voice, the way he took you. He kissed you hard, then barely broke off to whisper on your lip: "good girl. Come for me. You're mine, all mine. Look how perfect you are when you break under my cock."

And you broke. In a thousand shivers, waves, sobs. The legs shaking, the fingers scratching him as he continued to fuck you even during orgasm, making you feel every drop of pleasure. "My sweet, shameless girl..." he muttered, stroking your hair, his breath heavy, " ... I didn't think you'd be so good. But fuck, I can't stop anymore."

Hee was fucking you with a hunger held for too long. Each blow was a bite on your will, a promise kept halfway between desire and addiction. He clutched your hips with force as he sank into you, long, deep blows, which made you lose your breath. "Where do you want it, little girl"he whispered against your cheek, as he increased the pace, making you jerk under him. "Tell me where you want my cock when I come. On the belly? In the mouth? Or…" You trembled, unable to formulate a sensible answer. Stutter: "D-inside ... I take the pill... I haven't done it in... long."

Hee paused for a moment, looked at you, serious, excited. "Neither do I. Regular tests. Training. I'm clean, baby. And if you tell me you trust..."

"I trust you." He came out with a voice. Sincere. Your. Like it's always been that way. His gaze became warmer, more tender, yet full of the same lust. "Good girl..." he whispered with lascivious sweetness, as his thrusts became more erratic, more hungry. "My little witch ... you know you cast a spell on me, don't you? Why the fuck can't I think of anyone else?" The rhythm became frantic, his breath broken against your skin. "Fuck ..."

One last shot-deep, red-hot-and you felt it. His hot cum filled you in a slow, powerful wave. His hands clasped around you as he moaned your name, panting against your neck. You screamed for the feeling, for the warmth, for the viscous flow that flowed between your thighs while he stayed inside, one more second, one more beat.

"My ... fucking mine..." he whispered, pushing slowly as the last splashes mingled with your pleasure. When you pulled out slowly, you felt an immediate emptiness. A physical void... but also something more. You looked at him, breath still broken, and fear climbed into your throat. You always loved that guy. Even before he became the perfect captain, the idol of Slytherins and Gryffindors, the Quidditch player the newspapers were also talking about. You saw who he really was before everyone else. And now... you had it.

The room was silent, except for your ragged breathing and the soft rustle of sheets against sweaty skin. Hee was getting dressed absentmindedly, his hair a mess and his lips still flushed from your kisses. He had made you put on his shirt — oversized, still soaked in his scent, wrapping around you like a cloak that was too big, too intimate. Too much like him.

You couldn’t even look at him. Every move he made, every sound as he fastened his pants, felt like another blow to your already cracking armor. You bit your lip, then sighed quietly, tears blurring your vision. Turning onto your side, you gave him your back, trying to hold down everything that was rising inside you.

Unaware at first, Hee let out a soft, carefree laugh — that lighthearted, careless chuckle of his. “Merlin, Y/n… I never would've guessed you’d be this good at everything. Lessons, swimming, and… well. In bed too.”

You pulled the covers tighter around you as the tears finally slid down your cheeks, slow and quiet. When he turned and saw you like that, he froze. For a long moment, he didn’t say a word. Then slowly, he sat down beside you and brushed his fingers lightly against your waist.

“Y/n?” His voice was lower now, more real. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. A sob slipped past your lips and you buried your face in the pillow. Hee tensed, then gently tried to turn you over.

“Did I hurt you? Was I… too much?” He sounded genuinely worried, like the thought of having hurt you unsettled him more than anything else.

“No…” you whispered, voice trembling. “It’s not that…”

He looked at you with those big eyes, now filled with confusion and something that looked like fear. He gently cupped your face, warm fingers on your cheek. You met his gaze with tear-filled eyes and trembling lips.

“I want to leave…” you said softly, feeling instantly foolish at how fragile your voice sounded.

“Why?” he asked, tilting his head, softer than you expected.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and spoke barely above a breath: “Because I know that soon you’ll go back to being the same clown. The golden boy. The one who makes everyone laugh, who flirts with every Gryffindor that breathes… and somehow, every time you hook up with a Ravenclaw, it’s always near my room.”

Silence. Then his laugh — low, affectionate, almost amused. It made your fists clench.

“Shit… you’re so fucking beautiful when you’re mad… and jealous, Corvetta.”

You threw a pillow at his face, red with anger and embarrassment.

“Screw you, Hee.”

He laughed again, louder this time, and tossed the pillow back at you. “No, seriously… Are you jealous of them? After what just happened? You really think I could even look at someone else after seeing you like that?”

His voice dropped, more serious now, more intense, as he leaned in closer.

You lowered your gaze, curling deeper under the covers like they could protect you from everything you were feeling. You shook your head slightly, silently.

Hee didn’t say anything. Instead, he lay down behind you, his warm chest pressed gently against your back, his strong arms wrapping around you—not to hold you down, not to claim you, but just to be there. Just to hold you. He could feel you were still crying, your sobs small and quiet, so he started kissing your tears, one by one.

“Shhh… my little raven… it’s okay. Don’t cry like that…” he whispered, pulling you closer. “You’re not alone. Not when I’m here.”

He gently stroked your hair, kissed your forehead, your nose, your damp cheek. Every touch was a silent promise: I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

Your eyes drifted to the silver necklace hanging from his bare chest, still warm from the love you’d just shared. You reached out and brushed your fingers over it, then held it in your hand, curious. On the back of the small pendant, you saw an inscription: 27/10/97.

“What is it?” you asked softly, your voice hoarse.

Hee smiled, a little shy now. “Don’t laugh at me…” he murmured.

“I won’t. I swear.” You lifted your pinky finger.

He chuckled, linking his with yours. “It’s… my parents’ wedding date. I grew up watching them so in love. I wanted to keep that with me. Like a reminder, y’know?”

You stayed quiet for a moment, touched. “I didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

He gave you that look—half smug, half sweet. “I’ve got plenty of surprises, little raven. Trust me.”

You let out a soft laugh, almost without meaning to. His eyes went wide.

“Wait… did you laugh?” he said, pretending to be shocked. “Did you really just laugh?”

You nodded. “Yeah, dumbass.”

“Well, then I guess I can tell you now…” He paused, looking up like he was thinking hard, then turned serious again. “I wanted to engrave another date, someday.”

You turned toward him. “What date?”

He bit his lip, his tone softer, more sincere. “My wedding date. If… and when that happens.”

Something inside you clenched. Suddenly the tears came back, but this time they were different. Full. Full of emotion, of love, of everything you’d been holding back for too long.

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a rare tenderness. “And do you know who I want to engrave it with? You. Because fuck, Y/n… I love you. I love teasing you, I love how you always talk back to me, I love the way you try to act cold but start trembling the second I touch you. I knew you had a crush on me… but I didn’t realize just how much I had one on you.”

You looked at him, lips trembling, and softly, your voice breaking just a little, you whispered: “I love you too, Hee.”

He smiled like he’d been waiting for it. Like he already knew.

“I know.” Then he let out a quiet laugh. “And now that date I want to engrave… I’m really dreaming of it.”

Rebblog and comments are appreciated

1K notes · View notes

reading-wh0re · 2 months ago

Text

FANTASTIC GIMME 14 OF THEM RN‼️‼️

Between love and revenge

*pairing: alpha leader Heeseung x omega Girl

*trope: : Forbidden love/Enemies to lovers/Dark romance

*synopsis: Y/n, an omega, has avoided an unhappy marriage with Jiwon thanks to the intervention of Heeseung, an alpha who, driven by revenge against his father, has bonded her to him. Despite the bond, Y/n struggles with anger and resentment towards Heeseung, feeling trapped between hatred and a growing passion. Their relationship develops amidst Y/n's inner conflict and Heeseung's determination to show her that, beyond revenge, there is a deeper connection. But between secrets, lies, and the weight of the past, both are forced to confront the truth of their emotions and the meaning of the bond that unites them.

Between lust and revenge <- I recommend that you read Part 1.

(6.8k❤️‍🔥)

*tags: A lot of tension, Heeseung slowly becomes downbad for her, Y/n discovers a secret that will upset his life, lies, obsession, kisses, bites, unprotected sex (in the woods) traformation of Heeseung in alpha, double annotation, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) (normal sex-doggy sex) tamper with your feelings, +18 *(reference to a pregnancy to violate the laws between alpha and omega by Y/n’s father raping an alpha girl)

You had always thought that the worst moment of your life would be the day of your marriage to Jiwon. The idea of being chained to an omega who treated you like an object to possess, who dreamed of breaking your wings to force you into a golden cage, made you sick to your stomach. But now… the worst was over. Or at least, that’s what you believed. You walked towards the college cafeteria with a heavy heart and a head full of questions. The bond with Heeseung had been real. Raw. Powerful. Your body still carried the marks from the night before. But your mind? It was a battlefield. You had given everything, even what you never thought you’d offer anyone. And now… you would be watched. Judged. Commented on. You entered the grand Victorian cafeteria, and the silence was almost deafening. Everyone was looking at you. Some with their mouths hanging open, others already whispering among themselves, throwing glances your way. You could feel every unspoken word like a blade on your skin. You lifted your chin. You had to. They wouldn’t see shame, not today. You walked as if every step was a declaration: “I’m here, and I don’t regret it.”

It was then that the voice of your best friend, an Alpha, broke the tension. She ran toward you with a smile that clashed with the coldness of the atmosphere. She hugged you tightly, as only someone who truly knew you could. 'Y/n… how did it go?' she whispered in your ear, her voice full of real emotion. Then she pulled back slightly and sniffed the air. 'Oh my God… you smell like him. I can sense him everywhere.' You smiled faintly, your eyes already burning. “It was amazing,” you answered in a hoarse but honest voice. Too amazing. And at that moment, you hated yourself for still having feelings for him. She caressed your face. 'You were so brave. The Alphas… the elders… they’ll want to honor you. They’re already preparing a ceremony—' She didn’t finish. A scream cut through the air. “Y/N!”

You stiffened. Your blood froze in your veins. You turned slowly… and you saw him. Jiwon. He was walking toward you, furious, his eyes bloodshot with rage. He yelled at you, words full of venom. <WHORE! You got bonded to that piece of shit just to avoid marrying me?!> he shouted, his voice echoing off the ancient walls. You trembled. Not from his words, but from his hatred. He stopped five steps away, suddenly panting. He put a hand to his nose, disgusted. <You stink… you smell like him. That fucking Alpha!> You forced yourself to stand tall. “At least Heeseung… will let me study. Go out with my friends. Live.” <Live?!> he laughed bitterly. <You’re an Omega! Your duty is to stay at home, give birth, serve. It’s the man who works, who commands. It’s nature!> You stared at him. “It’s not mine. I don’t want that.” He looked down at you, degrading you with his gaze. As if you were just a mistake. <Your father will kill you for this.>

-No, he won’t.- The voice came from behind. Cold. Sure. Deadly. Sunghoon. One of Heeseung’s best friends. A feared and respected Alpha. He stepped forward, positioned himself between you and Jiwon. He looked down at him. -She is one of us now. Part of our family. No man will touch her again. And if any of them tries… they’ll die before they even get the chance.- Jiwon clenched his jaw, but took a step back. <It’s not over,> he hissed. He looked at you one last time… and walked away. You stood there, your heart in your throat, Heeseung’s scent still on you, your body tense, and your mind screaming. But had you won? Or at least, had you begun to?

Sunghoon looked at you with a cold, cutting gaze. There was no compassion, only a chilling, unrelenting authority. -Take her to her room,- he said to your best friend. -It’s better for her safety.- She let out a soft sigh, pulling you close. 'Hoon, don’t you think you’re overdoing it? She’s already under enough pressure. There’s no need to treat her like she’s in danger—' But he interrupted her with a cynical look. -The problem isn’t her. It’s the others.- Then he turned to both of you, his tone ice-cold: -From now on, move in pairs. And don’t open the door to anyone who doesn’t carry our mark.- It wasn’t a request. Your friend nodded, holding your hand tightly and pulling you away, away from those inquisitive eyes. As soon as the door to your room closed behind you, you collapsed onto the bed, your gaze fixed on the ceiling. You whispered quietly, almost not wanting to hear the answer: "I’ve messed up, haven’t I?" Absolutely.

Your phone had been vibrating for hours. Every relative, every branch of the family, every Omega who knew you… wanted to know if it was true. And when you answered yes, insults, threats, screams, and spit flew through the screen. They’d called you a disgrace. A traitor. A broken piece. But still, no call had come from your father. The door opened slowly. Your mother entered in silence, as though knowing she had to measure each step, each word. She sat down beside you on the bed, gently stroking your hair. 'You were brave,' she said softly. 'I’m proud of you.' You looked at her, surprised. "Did you know I didn’t want to marry Jiwon?" you asked, your voice cracking. She smiled bitterly. 'I’ve known for years. I just hoped that… time would fix everything. But you’re not like me, Y/n. You don’t bend. Never.' You swallowed hard. "Did I do the right thing?" There was a long silence. Then she said: 'There’s no right answer. But if Heeseung bonded you without killing you… it means that, somehow, you’re his. Almost like you’re soulmates.' You jumped to your feet, your heart racing. "Don’t say nonsense, mom. Heeseung hates me. He did it just for revenge." But inside, deep down… a tiny spark. A stupid, fragile hope that there was more to it. That touch, that caress at the end of the knot… had been real, especially the kiss he’d given you on your forehead…

The moment was abruptly interrupted by a firm knock on the door. The headmaster. He entered with the solemnity of a judge. 'Y/n. I need you to come with me. The royal hall has been called to order.' Your blood froze. You didn’t even have time to ask why. You followed him. The hallway seemed endless. When you entered, every important figure on campus — Alpha, Omega, Beta — was there. The clans were gathered. And at the end of the room… there he was. Heeseung. Standing still, motionless, with his clan surrounding him. He was looking at you. Dark, deep, unreadable eyes. But he was looking at you. He made a slow, barely perceptible nod. It froze your blood, and then you saw him. Sitting in the middle row. Your father. The world crashed down. He couldn’t look you in the face. When he did… it was only to spew words full of hatred. ---You’ve dishonored me. You’ve humiliated me in front of everyone. You were supposed to be a wife, a mother. And instead… you allowed yourself to be marked by a murderer! By that bastard!-- Every word was a dagger. --You’re no longer my daughter. You are nothing. You are a damn disgrace.-- You didn’t know what to say, but Heeseung’s laughter was dry, muffled, yet it exploded like a gunshot in the council hall. A sound so out of place that it broke the silence, making even the oldest leaders flinch. You spun around quickly. You watched him rise slowly from the throne reserved for the supreme Alphas. His clan was silent, united, eyes focused on him, and some on you, like Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Jay.

With confident strides, Heeseung stepped forward. Every movement seemed calculated. Lethal. He stopped in front of you, his body almost brushing against yours. One breath, and you would be enveloped in his scent. But he didn’t turn. His gaze was fixed straight on your father. "The only murderer in this room is you," he said, his voice sharp as glass. "You killed my brother. Not for revenge. Not for survival. But because he was stronger than you. Because you couldn’t tolerate another Alpha being superior to you." A murmur spread among the crowd. You were short of breath, your hands shaking. "And now you play the moralist?" Heeseung continued, his look full of pure contempt. "Y/n doesn’t belong to you. She never did. And she will be mine. Because inside her, there’s not only Omega blood… but Alpha blood as well." The silence became deafening. Some leaders whispered, others stared at you in disbelief. You didn’t understand. You stammered, "W-what is he saying? I… I don’t—" Heeseung laughed again. A fiercer sound, almost amused. "Your father has never spoken to you, except for duties. He has never touched you with a gesture of affection. And you know why? Because he knew you weren’t his wife’s daughter."

You turned towards your father. His eyes were filled with hatred. With blind rage. But also… with something that seemed like fear. "It was you who came to me," Heeseung continued, his tone now harsher. "You were the one who sought me out. Because something inside you knew. That becoming the wife of an Omega would have killed you. It would have taken everything from you. Including your soothing powers." A roar rose. Someone stood up. The others looked at your father, shocked. You felt like you were drowning. "ENOUGH!" your father shouted. And in a reckless gesture… he drew a sword. Panic spread. You didn't think: you immediately took refuge behind Heeseung, your heart pounding furiously. He didn't move. He didn't step back even an inch. "Say it," Heeseung hissed, his eyes fixed on that man who had ruined two generations. "Say it in front of everyone. Confess the truth." Silence fell again like a curtain. "That Y/n… is not the daughter of your mate. But the result of your sick experiment." The eyes of the council were fixed on him. Some already knew. Others didn't want to believe it. Heeseung continued, relentless.

"You raped an Alpha. Because you wanted to prove that an Omega like you could break the natural law. You wanted to see if an Alpha, and my brother’s future wife, could accept the knot of an Omega. And when the result... was Y/n... you hid everything. But she is not your mistake. She is your sentence."

Your father shouted. But no one listened. The leaders stood up, one after the other. The guards moved, and you, amidst it all... felt your knees buckle. Your eyes burned. The truths fell down on you like avalanches, the tears carved your face like burning blades. You couldn’t breathe, nor think. Only one question, desperate and raw, exploded in your throat.

"Is it true?!" you screamed, your voice cracking with anguish. "I’m not my mother’s daughter?! I was never loved because... because I was just the result of an experiment?!"

Your father didn’t speak.

But it didn’t matter. Silence is consent. The law was clear. The room was a witness. And you had just lost every foundation of your existence.

You collapsed to the floor, on your knees. Your hands on your face, your body shaken with sobs. Everyone was watching you. The leaders. The clans. The elders. But no one moved. Except for her.

Your best friend, the only one who, in that moment, could have pulled you away from that hell. She ran towards you but stopped suddenly. Not because she didn’t want to reach you.

But because of him, Heeseung.

Still there, unmoving, tall, cold. One look—just one, icy, full of command—was enough to stop her. And she obeyed. She stopped a few steps from you, bitten by pain, but helpless.

You kept crying, silently screaming. In your mind, all the lies played out, all the moments when you’d only asked for a caress, a hug, a word of love... and you had received only coldness. Now everything made sense. A horrible, sick sense, then, in the chaos of your collapse, a hand. A warm hand, placed on your back. A slow, almost imperceptible touch. It drew circles, small, continuous. Trying to calm you. To support you, and you... felt it. Him.

His scent. The one you now knew all too well. The one you had burned into your skin. Heeseung. You froze because in that gesture, there was too much. Too much warmth for someone who hated you. Too much sweetness for someone who had used you. Too many contradictions, now you understood it.

You hadn’t just been his revenge. You hadn’t just been the daughter of the man who had killed his brother. You had become the perfect pawn. His way to prove to the world that an Omega could be strong, that the rules could be rewritten... but also a weapon to mask his own needs. His desire to dominate... and maybe, something more.

You suddenly stood up. Eyes swollen, but proud, you looked at him, your voice trembling, but clear.

"I don’t want to be touched by anyone, especially not by you, Lee Heeseung."

He didn’t move. He didn’t stop you. He didn’t say a word and you... ran away.

Leaving it all behind: the lies, the council, your family... and him. But not the feelings. Those, like the knot... you carried them inside.

In those days, you hated everyone.

From the first to the last. There was no face, no name, that didn’t make your blood boil. Discovering that all the Alphas knew the truth was like receiving a second knot, this time in your soul. Not just Heeseung, not just your father: even the others. All those proud, arrogant faces, who had always looked down on you... they knew, and they kept silent. Your "mother" had tried to talk to you in every possible way. She knocked softly on the door. She left letters under your teacup. Sometimes she sat outside your room, in silence, just to let you know she was there. But you... couldn’t even look at her. You had been given a new room, closer to your best friend's, in the section reserved for Alphas. An exception granted only because of your bond with Heeseung, but you didn’t feel like an Alpha. You only felt the echo of his knot inside you. A mark. A call. A sentence. The Omega aura that surrounded you had become stronger, more palpable, and at that moment... more painful. That afternoon, however, you gave in. You opened the door, and she entered in silence. Red eyes. A tired gaze. She told you everything. She said she loved you. That she had always loved you. That, even though you hadn’t come from her womb, you were her only daughter.

"I couldn’t have children," she confessed, her voice cracked. "And when your father told me that... that he had found an infant, I... I thought she was the daughter of his previous partner. That she had died in an accident. I never knew the truth. Not until much later. But when I held you in my arms... you became mine." You looked at her. In silence. "Do you know my real mother?" you asked. You didn’t even know where that calm voice had come from. She shook her head. "No. Only the Alphas know her. Only them... and Heeseung." Your stomach tightened. You nodded slowly. No tears. Just exhaustion.

You saw him every day. Heeseung. In class. In the cafeteria. In the halls. Everywhere. Always with that leader-like posture, with that inscrutable gaze and slow, dominating steps. But there was something different. A subtle tension. A crack in his usual control. He tried to talk to you. He waited for you outside the classroom. He got closer when you were taking notes. Sometimes he let you pass in front of him in line, as if it were casual. But it wasn’t. Once, he brushed your wrist when you both reached for the same book in the library. "Y/n..." he murmured. And you gave him only a blank stare, your eyes frozen. And you left him there. Another time, after a class, he followed you all the way to the courtyard.

"You can’t avoid me forever," he said, his voice low, controlled. You didn’t stop.

"Look how you managed to do it for twenty-two years," you replied without turning around. You saw him stiffen. But he didn’t respond.

Every gesture of his was poison. Every attempt, every look, reminded you that he had lied to you.

He had pretended to hate you to justify his control. He had used your desire for freedom to take revenge. He had known everything. About your birth. About your identity, and yet... he had tied the knot with you. He had chosen you, and you couldn’t understand if it was yet another lie or the cruelest truth of all.

A month had passed. Four weeks of silence. Of walls built up. Of coldness that burned more than any knot. You only spoke to his cousin, your best friend, and with the teachers, you only answered when absolutely necessary. A word here, a nod there. And the rest? Silence.

He watched you. Always. He followed you with his gaze in class. He looked for an excuse to brush past you in the hallways. Occasionally, he would place his tray near yours in the cafeteria, but you’d change tables before he could even open his mouth. Everyone had started whispering. That maybe Heeseung had made a mistake. That maybe choosing to knot with you had been a mistake. An Alpha chasing his mate, a half-Alpha Omega, and being ignored like any other student. An embarrassment. A reversal of roles that no one understood… except you. In class, you threw sharp barbs. Once, while discussing bonds and compatibility, you raised your hand:

"Professor, what happens if an Alpha deludes himself into thinking he can control an Omega just because he’s marked her body, but not her heart?" The class erupted in laughter. Heeseung didn’t move a muscle. But his fingers, under the desk, clenched until they turned white.

Another time, while discussing leadership: "There’s a difference between commanding and knowing how to lead. Some Alphas think arrogance is charisma, when it’s actually just… weakness disguised." And there you looked at him. Straight in the eyes, with contempt.

That evening, however, something in him snapped. Heeseung knocked on your door. Once. Twice. Ten times. "Y/n!" Silence, he knocked harder. "Open up, damn it!" The door next to yours suddenly opened. His cousin, your best friend, popped out in pajamas, looking annoyed.

"What do you want, Heeseung?" she huffed. "Where is she?!" he growled. "Where the hell has she gone?!" She shrugged, leaning against the doorframe with feigned calm. "Maybe she doesn’t want to be found." "Don’t play games with me, ___!" He snapped at her, approaching menacingly. "Tell me right now where the hell she is!" But she didn’t back down. She looked him in the eyes and teased him with a sharp smile. "What’s wrong, does it bother you that now she gets to decide where and with whom she stays? That she’s ignoring you like a first-year girl who’s regretted it?" "Enough!" Heeseung growled. He grabbed her wrist, but without force. Only desperation. "You know her better than anyone. Where could she be?!" She lowered her gaze for a moment, sighed. Then, she looked him in the eyes. "If you know her at all... you’ll know where to find her." He stopped. His mind was in chaos. Three places. Three memories.

- "The classroom where we kissed for the first time..." A whisper. - "The waterfalls... no. Too far." And finally: - "The lake... beneath the university. On the edge of the forest." He said it in a half voice. His eyes full of panic.

"You’re crazy!" He shouted at his cousin. "You let her go there alone?! At this time?!" She pulled away from him with a sharp motion. She looked at him proudly. "She’s not just an Omega. She’s half Alpha, Hee. Like me. She knows what she’s doing." Then, with a cutting tone: "But you... do you even know what you want to do with her? Or do you just want her to come back to you to fill the emptiness you’ve created yourself?"

Heeseung ran down the castle stairs. But halfway down... he was no longer human. His bones cracked and rebuilt themselves, his clothes shredded to pieces, and his breath became sharper, deeper, wilder. The transformation was instinctive, necessary — his true Alpha nature broke free from all control. He sniffed. The evening wind immediately brought the scent. Your scent — a mix of Omega and Alpha, a fragrance that no one in the world had ever had, and within that aroma was his. Imprinted, mixed, fused. The knot was still inside you, still alive. Still his. The garden opened before him. His paws sank into the wet ground. He ran as fast as he could, between the hedges and the night flowers, sliding toward the lake like a shadow among the stars. When he neared the water... he howled. A desperate, raw, primal howl — a call. A lament. A cry of love and anger together. Where are you...? Then... he saw you. Sitting.

On that wrought-iron chair facing the lake. Still. Hair in the wind, face absent, the aura powerful — a creature born to exist between two worlds and hated by both. Heeseung ran. He jumped between the bushes, lowered his muzzle, felt the beat of your heart even from afar. When he was only a few steps away from you, your aura reacted. You turned. You looked at him and stood up abruptly to leave. No. Not this time. With a leap, he trapped you. He pushed you against the chair, with both gentleness and force, using his animal body to hold you in place. He sniffed you. Everywhere. Your neck, your wrists, your heart. Then he began to lick you. A warm, slow, adoring tongue. On your neck. Under your ear. Your jaw. Your cheek. Your chin. Every lick was a confession. A "I miss you," a "forgive me," a "you're mine," and your body… began to give in. "Heeseung…" you murmured. His name came from you like a stifled sob. He stopped. Pulled away. And in an instant, he was human again. Naked, trembling, vulnerable — his eyes… were not the same as before. A mix of deep brown and blood red. The animal soul and the human one merged within him. And all of it was directed at you. "Y/n…" he whispered. But before he could say anything else… "I hate you." The words came out like an open wound. They weren’t just anger. They were pain — a "you broke me." He stayed there, naked under the moon, silent. And for the first time… he didn’t know what to say. You spat out your anger. "You disgust me." "You're just a bastard." "You used my body for revenge, and now what? Do you want me to forgive you?!"

Each insult was a wound. But he didn’t stop. He bit your skin, with delicate animal-like tenderness. As if to say, "I’m here. Still. Even if you hate me." Then he changed. He slowly transformed. His paws became hands. His muzzle took the form of his face. His chest rose and fell in search of breath. But his eyes remained those of the Leader. The eyes of the Alpha who had marked you but also those of the boy who, maybe, had chosen you. "Stop…" he whispered. He held you tighter, pressing you against his bare chest. "Stop trying to be strong alone. Stop thinking that only you are suffering." You lifted your face, your eyes watery, full of rage. "And what do you know? You who plays at being the savior. You’re weak too, Heeseung." He closed his eyes, as if those words had hit him square in the chest, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he caressed your back, then your side. Slowly. As if he didn’t want to scare you, but to make you crumble. "I wanted to make you suffer… truly." Your voice trembled. "I thought about ending it. So you’d never be able to knot anyone. Not love. Not forget me." Silence. Only the lake. Only the heartbeat. Heeseung paled. His eyes widened. Then he screamed.

"Never say something like that again!" He grabbed you by the arms, and with slow movements, he took off your sweater. Every inch he uncovered, he kissed. He bit with gentle ferocity, not as punishment, but as a confession. A plea. A "forgive me" without words. His voice lowered, broken, angry. "You’re mine. But not because of possession. Because I feel you in every breath. In every dream. In every damn part of my being." And in the silence that followed, while his teeth left an imperceptible mark on your shoulder, you... stayed. His lips were everywhere on your neck, your chest, between your shoulder blades, along the fragile line of your soul. And his bites... Oh, his bites made you moan. Not only for the primal pleasure that set every nerve on fire, but for the dull pain you had been carrying inside for weeks. It was as if his body wanted to heal you. As if each lick, each kiss, each press of his tongue meant: "Stay. Breathe. Come back."

Your hands gripped his strong arms, the pulsing veins of his bare chest, illuminated only by the full moon. He looked like a vision, a nightmare and a dream fused together. "I can't take it anymore…" he whispered, his voice broken, labored. His fingers trembled slightly on your skin. "I want to feel your lips on mine again." You stopped him. You looked him in the eyes, those eyes so familiar yet so foreign. And you warned him. "You didn’t come to save me. You came to ease your conscience, Heeseung. You don’t want me… you want to forgive yourself." For a moment, even the wind stopped. His breath slowed, his body still wrapped in yours, but his soul laid bare. "I'm sorry…" he whispered. "I'm really sorry. I want to make up for everything…" And that’s when you screamed. With all the pain. With all the truth. "I want to forget! I want to forget all of this, Heeseung! I want it to never have happened! I want you to have never touched me! Never looked at me! Never chosen me!" He snapped. He grabbed your face in his hands, gently but roughly. His eyes, wet and furious, pierced through your soul. "NO, the most beautiful thing in my life… the only thing I don't want to forget… is you." He looked at you as if you were his entire universe. As if all the chaos that had built him had been created for this moment alone. "You were my ruin and my salvation. The only moment I felt peace was when I knotted you. When you fell asleep in my arms, naked, fragile… mine. Even when I pretended to be cold, distant, cruel with you… I wanted you. For years. It wasn't revenge, Y/n. It was desire. It was love I didn’t want to admit." And there, in the silence that followed, only the moon dared to watch you. Only the lake reflected your truth, and without thinking any longer, you crashed your lips onto his. It was like setting the night on fire.

Heeseung grunted against your mouth, a deep, animalistic, primal sound. His hands tightened around your waist as his tongue invaded your mouth with a hunger that seemed to have been held back for centuries. You clung to him, straddling his legs, feeling the warmth and strength vibrating from his body beneath you. You pulled him toward you, hard, as if you wanted to fuse together. You bit his lower lip with a sweet cruelty, and he admonished you with a low growl. But you, with your voice broken and venomous, degraded him with a cold whisper. "I hate you... and you know it well." But your hands spoke a different language, an ancient one, made of repressed desire and anger that burned hotter than love. Heeseung didn’t stop. He continued to kiss you, deeper, more desperately, while his fingers lifted your sweater. In a few seconds, you were left with only a thin tank top and your bra. His eyes, now red and filled with Alpha aura, scrutinized you like prey.

He also slid the tank top off you with a slow, almost ritual gesture, and when he saw your breasts covered only by fabric, something in him changed.

As if he was possessed.

His mouth fell on your chest, between bites and feverish kisses that made you moan, scratch him, pull his hair.

«You bastard... you are just my knot, nothing else.»

Yet your voice trembled, for every bite of it left you confused, every lick made you long again.

He sucked your breasts out of his bra with ardor, and you kept pulling his hair with your aura as a submissive omega, but also as a ruthless alpha. A fragile balance, perfect and then... click.

The hook of the bra gave way under his fingers.

Your breast leaped free in the crisp air of night. The nipples hardened instantly for the cold and her hungry look.

He panted, almost lost and you, with a filthy but sweet voice, whispered into his ear:

«Don’t pretend, Heeseung... you’ve always wanted me, right? Even when you said you hated me.» His hands trembled on your hips and he answered with a roaring voice:

«I wanted you... even before I knew you were mine.»

The forest was in a vibrant penumbra, only the moon filtered through the branches, drawing silvery shadows on the nody logs. The air was saturated with smells: musk, moist earth... and its scent. The spicy and pungent one of an Alpha in full call.

You didn’t have time to react.

He lifted you without warning.

«Ah!» you screamed, surprised, as your body was pushed against the trunk of a tree. His arms squeezed you with a fierce possession, as if that moment had been written in his flesh.

«Do you hear it?» he whispered against your ear, his voice crusty, broken by longing. «Your pussy is rubbing against my cock, and it’s looking for it even if you keep telling me that you hate me.»

«I... I can’t take it anymore!» you froze, trembling. «I hate you... I really do...»

But even as you were saying it, your pelvis moved imperceptibly against his, seeking that heat, that pressure.

He laughed, gloomy, deep, with a grin that was pure sin.

«No, darling. It’s not just your body that wants me. It’s every part of you. Even the one who lies to herself.»

He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes lit up with an animalistic glow, and then - without further preambles - slowly slid her fingers under your skirt. The panties came down with a swift movement, and his fingers found at once the proof of your surrender.

«Already wet? So much?» he growled softly, as he stroked you with expert fingers. «I would have taken my time... Open you up, get ready, get yelled at while you were enjoying. But fuck... I can’t resist. I just want to sink into you, tie you and leave you full. Only mine.»

Your eyes were filled with confused tears: desire, anger, fear... and longing.

Your trembling hands, driven by a primitive instinct, pulled off his boxer shorts with ardor. His member was hard, imposing, pulsating with warmth. Your breath was cut off.

The wood seemed to hold your breath. Only your sighs broke the silence.

«Tell me,» he whispered against your neck. «Tell me you want me, even if you hate me. Tell me that your body belongs to me, even if it drives you crazy.»

«I hate you... but I fucking love you!» you shouted, your heart racing. «You drive me crazy, but my body... can’t stop.»

«Good little omega confused...» he muttered. And then howled, a primordial sound that shook the fronds above you.

In a single movement, it sank into you.

A moan will tear your lips, long, deep. The nails dug into his back as he began to move with force, with a wild but precise rhythm. Each shot was a message, a claim, a mark.

«I will keep you here,» he growled. «I will fertilize you, I will keep you tied up... until you learn that you can no longer run from me.»

The moon was the only witness of your bond. United bodies, broken breaths, souls entwined in a darkness that was more desire than shadow.

His impulses were bestial, ferocious, as if he was trying to erase every space within you that did not belong to him.

Each stroke of his cock made you scream, and your screams were mixed between extreme pleasure and uncontrollable tears. You cried, yes, but it was not pain - it was too intense, it was a pleasure so deep that everything shook. You felt split in two and at the same time more alive than ever.

«I hate you!» you shouted at them, with a broken voice, your face wet with tears and sweat. «You’re a bastard!»

He growled softly, squeezing you with a force that made you groan.

«And you are a little half omega and half alpha in heat, mine... always mine. Even when you insult me, your body calls me.»

Your words were full of poison and need, each offense a crooked, animalistic cry of love, which smelled something deeper. He bit your neck, strong, leaving the mark, and then sucked you slowly, mixing violence and tenderness as only an Alpha knows how to do with his mate.

Every push made you jump, your body stretched and broke under him, but you looked for it, you wanted it. His name exploded between your lips as a wave of heat swept you away, that primordial feeling that made you groan like never before.

«Keep on...» you whisper with a broken voice, almost praying. «Please tie me up. Make me yours for real.»

He grunted against your ear, going deeper.

«I want you tied to me. Tight. Filled. Possessed.»

You felt his knot begin to swell inside of you, slow, insistent, and the scream that came up from your throat was no longer contained. Your body bent to his, accepting everything, every pulsation, every wave of pleasure that spread like fire in the veins.

«Yes... yes, so... I want your knot, I want to feel full...» you sigh.

He stopped only when it was completely knotted within you, your tight bodies, fused into an indissoluble bond. His hands caressed you now with sweetness, the breathless breath mixed to yours but the pushes became stronger and deeper, as if he wanted to cross every border of your body and engrave his name inside you. He held you firmly, completely in his power, while the knot kept swelling inside you, and your belly began to stretch, full... full of him.

«Look how my knot is swelling...» he growled against your neck. «Your body accepts everything, wants it, begs for it.»

The words struck you like a hot and violent wave. You babbled between sobs and cut breath.

«It’s too... too deep inside... you’re... you’re filling me up... I can’t think...»

«You must not think,» he replied. «You must only hear.»

And it sank again. Deeper, stronger.

He lifted you with a single gesture, as if you were light as air, bouncing you against his chest. The friction was unbearable, sweet and fierce at the same time. And then... his finger found your most sensitive spot. A pinch, a precise touch, and the world exploded.

A scream escaped from your lips, your body trembled in a wave of uncontrollable pleasure, while the knot felt it pulsating more and more inside you, while your orgasm passed through you like lightning, hot and blinding.

«Good girl, come for me, all over me...» he murmured with a broken voice, adoring you.

You felt your excitement slide down, cover it, drip on your joined bodies. And he did not stop.

«I want you tied, filled. I will bind you again, mark you with my seed, leave you full of me, so much that every breath of yours knows of me.»

With a deep growl, you felt his movements become even slower, more powerful. And then... the heat

A liquid explosion inside you, very long, unstoppable, while the knot pulsed with violence, pushing that pleasure even deeper. You screamed, again, as you felt it fill you completely, so much that you lost the sense of time.

And for a long moment, the world stood still. Only the moon looked at you. Two wild souls, broken, chained by desire and something that neither of them had ever dared to call his real name.

Then, with studious slowness, he made you come down from his arms. Your legs shook as soon as they touched the ground but her touch didn’t leave you for a second.

His hands were fast and strong, they turned you with force and pushed you slightly forward, bent in front of him, the back arched. His gaze burned on exposed skin.

«Get your beautiful ass up,» he ordered in a roaring voice. «I’m not done with you yet.»

You were anxious. «It’s too much...» you protested with a little voice, but didn’t move.

He approached, fingers running down the curve of your hips. «You played the rebel for too long, my companion. Now you learn. You are mine. And I... am yours. That’s how the bond works.»

You sighed, but your legs did not move. His hands caressed the stretched skin, then slipped between your thighs and stopped.

«Look how beautiful you are...» she murmured. «Shine. Swell up. And you’re still leaking my seed.»

Closed your eyes, your breath broken. Yoy did not make in time to reply.

With a single leap, he was again inside you. A cry escaped from your lips, wild, uncontrollable. The pleasure hit you like a slap. The feeling of fullness, after the knot, was even more violent. Each movement was an electric shock, a liquid fire that went through your entire belly.

«Do you hear it?» he growled, sinking with ever greater force. «You take it so well, my little one. Half omega, half alpha... yet your body knows exactly who it belongs to.»

You were stuttering, unable to find sensible words. The sentences broke on your lips, between sobs and groans.

«It’s... too much... inside... too hot...»

He grabbed your hips with force. «And it will be even more. Because I want you completely. With another knot, another mark. I want you to not even walk without feeling me inside of you.»

Each push was deeper than the previous, as the words died out in your throat. Your body trembled, bending to the rhythm. And when you felt the pressure grow again, that second knot that swelled slowly, groaned his name in a broken voice, as if he were praying.

He praised you in a low voice, with words full of desire.

«So good... so mine. My perfect companion. And now you come again. I want to hear you hug me as I fill you up again.»

A few pushes were enough. Your body became stiff, then it was shaken by a violent, uncontrollable pleasure. A scream burst from your lips as she felt it everywhere - inside, around, in every fiber. And when he exploded inside you, you felt it all: the warmth, the depth, the strength. His seed filled you again, warm, abundant, and you groaned again, letting go completely.

The bodies remained united, once again merged under the full moon. There were no more words. Only breath. Only beats. Only them.

That morning, you woke up wrapped in a strange kind of warmth.

It wasn’t just the blankets—it was something deeper, more visceral… a heat pulsing beneath your skin, between your ribs, and in your thoughts.

The air carried a scent you knew all too well by now: wild mint and tobacco—the scent of his skin, his presence.

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was his red hair—messy and soft—resting against your neck like a silent promise.

You were wearing one of his oversized shirts, hanging down to mid-thigh, and his arms were wrapped around you with a quiet, natural possessiveness—as if he had never known a world where you weren’t his.

You moved gently, trying to slip away without waking him, but his voice reached you in a low, sleepy murmur.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Your heart skipped in your chest.

You blushed, inevitably, at the memory of the night before—the moon, the moans, the knot, your bodies tangled in the woods like creatures born to vanish into the wild.

“I just… wanted to get up,” you mumbled, but the words faded as you watched him slowly sit up.

He looked at you seriously, but with a soft light in his eyes.

“Do you feel okay?” he asked, one hand brushing over your side.

You shook your head slightly. “No… just a bit… full, maybe.”

He laughed quietly, almost amused, but his gaze fell immediately to one of the marks he’d left on your neck—a deep, dark bite, still faintly sore.

He touched it gently, a caress that clashed with the roughness of the mark.

You gave him a mock scolding look, more amused than anything.

“You told me you’d only mark me like that after we got married.”

He shrugged, carefree.

“To me, you’re already mine. No ceremony. No fuss.”

“So this is your romantic way of telling me you love me?” you teased, a smile playing on your lips.

He stared at you for a moment, then tilted his head slightly.

“I’ve already told you I love you. The thing is—you haven’t said it back yet.”

His words hung in the air like a sweet blade.

They stole your breath for a moment.

You chuckled, shyly, but he didn’t smile.

He looked at you with that disarming seriousness, his heart written plainly in his eyes.

“Hey… I’m really sorry. For everything you’ve had to go through these past few weeks… and for these 22 years of your life,” he murmured.

And before you could answer, his lips were everywhere—your neck, your shoulders, your cheeks, your forehead.

He kissed you like he wanted to erase every doubt, every hesitation, every unspoken word.

And only then, between one kiss and the next, in the softest voice—like a confession you could no longer keep—you said it.

“I love you too.”

The world seemed to stop.

He froze for just a second—long enough to look into your eyes.

And the smile that bloomed on his lips was so real, so raw, it made you forget everything else.

Taglist: @stwrlightt @hearts4cheol @lovenha7 @in-somnias-world @heeseungxo @luvyeni @jayjw16enxp @jvngwni @jooniesbears-blog @gguk-n @cloudykim @enhaverse713586 @stormy1408 @jakesw82 @misssparklyprincess @bamguetismee @jaylajakey @arclviie @strxwbloody @steddie-steddie @jungwoosbaey @laurenmia65 @tasnemluvs @lovellydisaster @simj4k3 @numnommz @sspidermanss @vixialuvs @smlbch @xylatox @ikeulove @nishikio @ancnymcnzjy @sofiafromvenus @kayjiguki @annovaz @kkamismom12 @forrds @inishij @amortenha @sunnysidesins @isagistar @schniti-is-in-the-house @nyxiebabyyy @rubylace @petalsofink @asteriscoverde @azzy02 @sievenderz @reading-wh0re

491 notes · View notes

reading-wh0re · 2 months ago

Text

Just. YES. As a slytherin girl I LOVE THIS SM ❤️

A sweet poison

Special 1000 followers!!!

*pairing: pervy ravenclaw Sunghoon x popular slytherin Girl

*trope: opposites attract

*synopsis: Y/n, a cunning, spoiled, and provocative Slytherin, constantly clashes with Sunghoon, a brilliant and cynical Ravenclaw, who is irresistibly drawn to his complex personality. Despite the tension between them and their mutual attitude of defiance, an intense chemistry emerges beneath their banter. Their relationship evolves into a game of power and attraction, where provocations become a battleground, fueled by passions that are never fully expressed. Y/n, always in control, challenges Sunghoon to push past his limits, while he struggles to maintain his cool, but fails to do so completely.

*tags: A lot of tension, Hoon is slightly shy and the protagonist a bit spoiled, a lot of kisses, make couple as prefects of the castle at night, power games, degradation, masturbation (m. hidden room of the castle) unprotected sex (don’t horny) (f. masturbation) suckers, fingering, dirty talk, obsession, pet names (vipera) (hoon,hoonie) +18, confession of their feelings

(English is not my native language)

Being a Slytherin in 2025 had become, for many, almost a trend—a label to flaunt with pride — all smug smirks and loosened ties around stiff collars but you weren’t like them. Your name carried weight.

Your surname whispered in the corridors of Hogwarts, came with a heavy legacy. Daughter of one of the last Pureblood families still loyal to the old magical aristocracy. Not the polished, flashy kind fit for magazine covers, but the real kind — the kind that had shed blood and cast spells to protect their name... and that of others.

Your father was in Azkaban. He had protected the Malfoy family — and not only them. He made forbidden deals, hid evidence, and buried names.

He wasn’t a Death Eater, but… he’d come damn close. And you?

You wore that burden like an emerald choker: heavy, uncomfortable, but devastatingly beautiful.

You couldn’t care less about people’s blood status — if someone studied at Hogwarts, they deserved to be there. Period but you'd never stoop so low as to say it out loud.

Not when your Slytherin aura — cold, elegant, untouchable — was such a convenient way to keep people at bay… and keep eyes on you from those too scared to get close.

The boys wanted you. The girls… either feared you or desperately tried to be near you. Real friends? You could count them on one hand. Maybe half.

And then there was him.

Park Sunghoon. Ravenclaw. Muggle-born. One of the brightest — most dangerously intelligent — wizards of his generation. Hoon didn’t believe in Houses. He didn’t care for appearances — he believed in results, merit, and reason over instinct. He looked at you the way someone looks at a particularly annoying problem — an equation that refused to make logical sense. You were brilliant, sure. But too… theatrical. Too seductive. Too moody. Too everything.

And yet, he couldn’t look at you. There were days when he’d stare from across the room, thinking you wouldn’t notice. But you did. You always did. Because he hated you — or at least, that’s what he told himself.

The truth?

He wanted you. Worse — he couldn’t get you out of his head.

And you knew it. Oh, you knew.

Every time you walked past him, you left behind a trail of perfume and poison. Every time you sat near him in the library, just to throw him off.

Every time you dropped a razor-sharp comment in class, and caught that twitch of a smile on his lips — the one that said only one thing:

This girl is driving me insane.

He hated how perfectly dramatic you were. You loved how hard he tried not to notice and while everyone at Hogwarts kept on with their lives — botched potions, flying brooms, half-cast spells — the two of you were there two opposite poles. Two Houses at War and yet, all it took was a look, a silence held a second too long, a whispered fight in a forgotten tower and the world stopped making sense.

The magic hall was one of the oldest in the castle. Tall, gothic, with faded tapestries on the walls, embroidered with the entwined symbols of the four Houses: the lion, the snake, the badger, and the raven.

Floating candles flickered in the air, casting a warm golden light that spilled across faces, neatly pressed uniforms, and the excited murmurs of the students.

You walked in as you always did — with that graceful step that wasn’t trying to draw attention… but always did.

The muffled sound of your shoes on the ancient floor almost seemed to set the rhythm of everyone’s breathing.

You sat in the Slytherin section, back straight, gaze sharp.

Everyone was talking — about Quidditch, the ever-trashier Muggle Ball, or checking if the Headmaster had arrived yet.

But your eyes, went straight where they shouldn’t have. There they were:

Heeseung — all lion pride and cocky grin. Next to him, T/L — his sister, a textbook Hufflepuff, kindness written across her face and sunshine in her voice. Sunoo, beaming as always and then… him.

Park Sunghoon.

Blue and black uniform, perfectly crisp.

Broad shoulders under his cloak. Long legs folded with that obsessive precision. His hair, thick and styled, always looked just a little tousled — like he’d fought a storm and come out victorious on purpose. You leaned against the desk with poised elegance, fingers laced.

T/L caught your eye and smiled warmly. You returned a faint nod — your rare, sincere way of saying “Yeah, I see you.”

And that’s when you noticed it — Hoon’s flushed cheeks.

The moment he saw you'd seen him, he looked away with a clumsy shift and pretended to adjust his tie. And you? You laughed — quietly, inwardly. Every time, the same story… those cheeks. That boyish flush. He always said it was the cold… sure. Cold ears, cold wrists, cold neck.

If you caught him jerking off thinking about you, he’d say he was “training against chronic irritation.”

Pathetic.…Adorable. But pathetic.

You didn’t even have time to tease him properly — you already had a few sharp lines ready on your tongue — When the great doors opened.

The Headmaster entered, and silence fell like a spell.

His voice, as every year, was slow, deliberate, and heavy with the solemnity only Hogwarts could conjure.

-Prefects, students, welcome to the next stage of the Conjunction Project- he began, hands clasped behind his back. -As you know, this exercise is meant to encourage inter-house collaboration…-

The speech went on, but the hall felt like it was holding its breath.

The duets. Mixed-House pairs, assigned for missions, studies, and exercises.

Two whole months and unless someone was hospitalized with dragon fever, the partners wouldn’t change.

-No exceptions,- the Headmaster added. -Except magical impossibility or illness. I trust that’s clear.-

He looked down at the parchment and began reading names. Each pair sparked groans, giggles, or sighs of resignation.

Until— Park Sunghoon… and Y/n L/n.-

Silence cracked the room for a second too long. Then came the whispers.

The stifled laughter, you turned your head toward him. He rolled his eyes in slow, theatrical disbelief and you smiled — that slow, sharp, challenging smile of yours, with just a touch of venom.

Of course.

Of course, this had to happen. As if it wasn’t enough having her voice in my dreams and her legs in my head. Two months. Two fucking months with her. With that tongue that only knows how to provoke, and that smile that makes me want to shut her up… and not with a spell,

Sunghoon thought.

It was 8:50 PM when you stepped out of the pool. Your hair is still damp, your skin carrying the scent of lavender salts and calming spells. You’d indulged a little too much in the prefects’ private sauna — one of the very few privileges in the castle that made you feel treated the way you deserved.

By 8:57 PM, you were still on the other side of the castle. At exactly 9:00, the astronomical clock in the heart of the tower struck with a solemn, echoing dong. At 9:02, you were running — cloak fluttering behind you, your shoes still a little wet in your rush. And by 9:06, you saw him.

Hoon was already there, standing at the entrance of the North corridor in the East Tower, bathed in the flickering light of an enchanted torch. His blue-and-black cloak perfectly in place, tie tight, expression unreadable… and his foot tapping impatiently against the floor. Living cliché, you thought. You approached with a confident step, a smirk playing on your lips. “Already checked the ghosts of the tower, or just practicing your patience on me?” Your voice was smooth, with just the right dose of poison. Hoon looked up at you with a huff. “You’re late.” His tone was sharp, precise — almost surgical. “Your first patrol. Congratulations, Y/n. You managed to turn duty into a spa-diva drama performance.” You let out a soft laugh and stepped even closer — your cloak parting just enough to reveal your bare legs under the uniform, your wand tucked into a garter you wore purely for vanity. “Oh, Hoonie…” you whispered, tilting your head. “Don’t tell me you’re flushed with rage again.” You reached out and theatrically brushed your fingers along his warm, blushing cheek. “You know, if you want to join me in the sauna, you just have to ask. No need to fake the fury.” Hoon clenched his jaw and took half a step back, throwing you a dark look. “It was the cold. You know, that thing that exists outside your cloud of perfume and narcissism.” His tone was sarcastic, biting but behind that stiff mask, you saw it. You always saw it — the red in his cheeks, the slightly quicker breath, the way he couldn’t look at you for more than three seconds without turning away. You followed as he started walking, those long legs moving quickly down the corridor. “What’s wrong, Ravenclaw? Running away from me?” You teased, following at a slower, more deliberate pace — a graceful glide. “Or are you afraid that if you slow down, you’ll, I don’t know… notice the sound of my footsteps behind you a little too much?” He lit the path with his wand, snapping out a curt “Lumos,” and without turning around, shot back: “The only sound I notice is your ego entering every room three minutes before you do.” You laughed. Quietly. Seductively. You walked behind him like a shadow — but with the elegance of an ancient charm.

What a challenge. What a damn walking riddle. He wants me. I see it. I feel it. But every time, he hides behind his bookish logic — and I love every second of this war. He’s playing. As always. And every time — every damn time — I catch myself thinking about that mouth… even while fending off Dementors during training.

Two months. Two. Whole. Months. What the hell did I do to deserve this divine punishment wrapped in a school uniform?

You walked up to him as you continued down the dark corridor.

“Hoon?”

“Mhm?”

“You forgot to check behind that statue. There could be a Boggart… or worse… a student breaking curfew.”

He half turned.

You were too close — eyes locked on his, your breath brushing against his skin, and you bit your lip.

“You should check, you know. It’s your duty… Prefect Park.”

And you walked ahead, this time without another word but his ears were still red.

How is it even possible that someone who looks like he was sculpted by a god is too boring to give him a single flaw?

That straight, sharp nose — so unlike your own. You had a slight bump, and that difference annoyed you… and excited you at the same time.

His moles, scattered across his face like secret little constellations. You knew exactly where they were, by heart.

Thin lips, but slightly full, like they were always about to tell you something he’d never say.

Or kiss you — but only if you deserved it.

His hair was thick, dark, just messy enough from the November wind.

And those shoulders. Those damn broad, straight shoulders.

Lean, defined body — nothing flashy… but you knew what was under that uniform.

That image was still burned into your mind — him in the prefects' pool. Shirtless, water dripping from his neck, running down his chest, and stopping where eyes weren’t supposed to look.

But you had looked. Oh, you’d looked perfectly.

That’s exactly when he turned abruptly and pointed his wand at you — not threateningly, but just enough to make you raise an eyebrow.

“You should be checking the corridors, not counting my moles.”

His tone was cynical. Tired. Irritated.

You smiled. Slowly. Poisonously. Your signature move.

“Honestly, I find your constellations much more interesting. It’s November, after all. No sane person’s out at night in this cold… except for the two of us.

One because he’s a control freak, and the other because… well. Just look at this luck.”

Hoon clenched his jaw.

“Being a prefect isn’t a privilege to strut down corridors like it’s a fashion show. You have duties, Y/n.”

“Oh, Hoonie… such seriousness. Are you saying you don’t like it when I look at you?”

You stepped a little closer.

“Because you can pretend all you want… but your cheeks, sweetheart, are literally screaming ‘look at me again.’”

“It’s because of the cold.”

“Of course it is. And I’m a Hufflepuff with a heart of gold.”

The bickering went on like that the whole patrol.

You teasing him, him snapping back — sharp responses, always with that barely-contained nervousness that betrayed everything he refused to admit. Pure tension. Loaded silences. Steps were taken too close. Glances that lasted one second too long. Until the shift ended.

You walked together toward the common rooms, and when you reached the entrance to Slytherin, you turned for one last jab.

“So chivalrous. Walking me right to the serpent’s lair. Should I be moved?”

Hoon looked at you with steady eyes and a flat voice.

“I do this for everyone. You’re not special, Y/n. You’re just like the others.”

You stared at him for a second. Silence. Then, with a half-smile:

“Ah. Then it must be a real problem… that none of those other girls make you lose your mind like I do, right?”

He clenched his jaw. His eyes — for a second — lit up with something that wasn’t just sarcasm anymore.

Something darker. Something far more wanting. But he said nothing. Just a cold: “Goodnight.”

And turned away, his cloak brushing against his ankles as he walked off — with that damn perfect stride.

It had been two weeks since patrols with Hoon started, and every single night had been its kind of chaos — all silent steps and poisonous words.

One night, you’d found him in the middle of a corridor with his shirt open, locked in a duel with a fleeing wizard (spoiler: he took him down in one move).

Another time, you two ended up hiding behind a statue to avoid Peeves, and you fell on top of him — hands on his chest, heart in your throat.

Other nights, it was just silence, and you found yourself walking too close, breathing him in, imagining things that had nothing to do with patrolling.

But that night, you were on time.

You’d spent hours in the Common Room, hunched over scrolls, books, and vials.

Amortentia had almost melted your brain — not just because of how complex the potion was, but because of what it meant.

The love potion. The one that smelled like your deepest desire.

You stretched slightly as the evening cold sliced through the air like a thin blade. Fingers frozen, lips chapped but your eyes were all on him.

Hoon was there, leaning against a stone wall, with that usual Ravenclaw scarf wrapped around his neck.

Tired eyes, messy hair, pale skin kissed by the cold.

How do you always look so annoyed… and so fucking gorgeous at the same time? you thought.

He noticed you looking. Again. He shot you a sharp look.

“Can you not stare like you’re trying to read my mind?”

“Aww, are you nervous tonight?” you giggled. “Afraid I’ll find out that beneath all that Ravenclaw perfection, you’ve got a soft heart?”

He scoffed, gripping his wand tightly.

“No. I’m afraid you’ll freeze me solid with your gaze. You’ve got a Basilisk effect.”

You walked for a few minutes, stairs creaking beneath your steps, until your voice broke the silence:

“Have you studied Amortentia?”

“Obviously yes. Not all of us spend our time staring at people or brewing random potions.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So you heard mine didn’t turn out right, huh?”

“Oh, word got around.” He turned with a half-smile.

“I’d bet your beloved would smell like… let’s see… mist, moldy moss, and maybe even a hint of aromatic agony.”

You stopped.

No laughter. No teasing. Your gaze went ice-cold.

“Real funny, Park. He didn’t answer right away. He looked at you.

Then took a step forward — but you turned and started walking again, ignoring him. The silence grew thick. Almost solid.

Hoon followed you, but said nothing.

“Y/n—”

“Don’t.”

“It was just a joke. Don’t be childish.” You stopped dead in your tracks.

“You know what all of you are?” Your voice trembled — but not from the cold. “You all think you’re so clever. So superior. But you don’t know shit about me.”

He said nothing.

“To you, I’m just the daughter of the guy in prison. The pretty Slytherin — spoiled, easy to hate. But have you ever wondered what it’s like to carry that crap with you every single day? At Hogwarts, people talk. Always. They never forget. And they think they know you just because of your last name.”

Hoon looked at you. His expression had changed. No more sarcasm. No more coldness. Just something more human. More real.

“I…”

He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words.

“If you want to make fun of me, go ahead. But at least do it properly.

Not with that cheap sarcasm. And next time you bring up Amortentia, remember: Not everyone gets to smell something beautiful. For some of us… it just smells like loneliness.” And you walked away.

Leaving him there — alone, confused… and with a strangely heavy heart.

The Potions classroom was wrapped in a pulsing dimness, lit only by the flickering flames beneath the cauldrons and the pearly shimmer of the potions in progress.

Professor Slughorn, as enthusiastic as ever, clapped his hands and announced,

<Well, everyone, today we’ll test your true skills: each of you will brew Amortentia without the aid of books. Rely on your memory and your talent.>

After an hour of careful focus, mixing rose petals, Ashwinder eggs, and Moonwater, most of the students had completed their brews.

Professor Slughorn moved through the classroom, scrutinizing each cauldron with a practiced eye.

Next to you, T/L — Heeseung’s sister and your friend — leaned over her cauldron to smell her potion. A sudden flush bloomed across her cheeks.

“So?” you asked in a teasing whisper, smiling mischievously. "What do you smell?”

-N-nothing in particular,- she replied, trying to sound casual.

“Liar,” you grinned. “You turned red like an apple.”

T/L lowered her gaze, flustered.

-Alright, alright… I smell vanilla, rain, Quidditch field grass, and… freshly baked bread.-

You burst into laughter.

“Those scents only remind me of one person in this class — Jake Sim, Gryffindor’s top flirt. His list of conquests is longer than Fantastic Beasts.”

-Shh! Shut up!- she hissed, shooting you a glare while trying not to smile.

Professor Slughorn approached your station, inspecting your potion with interest.

<Excellent, Y/N,> he said with a pleased nod. <Your Amortentia has the perfect mother-of-pearl sheen, and the vapor spirals beautifully. Flawless work.>

He smiled and added,

<Now, lean in and tell me what you smell.>

You bent over the cauldron and inhaled deeply.

But… nothing. No scent reached you. No familiar fragrance. No unfamiliar one. Just… olfactory silence.

Professor Slughorn looked at you, puzzled.

You shook your head, confused. “No, Professor. Nothing at all.”

He furrowed his brow, thoughtful. <Interesting… Very interesting. Perhaps your mind is too focused to let the emotions flow. Try again, Y/N,> he said gently, though his eyes already held that shade of pity that made your blood boil.

You took a deep breath and leaned in again, eyes closed, letting your thoughts drift.

You searched for something happy.

A moment. A face. Summer at the lake, with your grandmother teaching you the charm to keep water cool in jars.

Your first successful spell.

A quiet evening in the Slytherin common room, with rain tapping on the windows and green light pulsing on the walls. But still… nothing. You inhaled deeply. Still nothing. You opened your eyes and gave a small shake of your head.

The classroom was filled with whispers.

“Maybe she’s too bitter to feel love.”

“Of course — look at that snake face.”

“She needs a potion to feel something, not just smell it.”

“Love can’t be bought — not even with that last name.”

You backed away from the cauldron. For the first time, you lowered your gaze. Not out of shame. Out of rage. That strange stab in your chest hit harder than you expected. You felt T/L’s warm hand lightly brush your back, followed by the gentler touch of Sunoo.

And then—

'Well, no surprise,' came a fake-cheerful voice. It was Jace Roswell — a boy you’d dated for a couple of weeks.

'I mean… you’re the daughter of a convict. You don’t just inherit the blood, right? You inherit the emptiness too.'

Total silence. Your hand closed around your wand. Your eyes — two green blades, ready to curse him where he stood but before you could speak, another voice cut through.

Cold. Sharp. Poisoned like a dagger dipped in bitterness.

“Stupefy!”

Jace was hit full force, tongue paralyzed and body jolting backward like he’d been shocked. His notes scattered across the floor — along with his pride.

Hoon lowered his wand slowly, his eyes locked on Jace.

“Funny,” he said, voice calm and deadly. “For someone so mediocre at Potions, you sure have a big mouth.”

Professor Slughorn turned in alarm — but it was the look in Sunghoon’s eyes that silenced everyone. And then he looked at you. Really looked at you. Not with the usual scorn or exasperation. This time, he looked at you like someone seeing something fragile… or something powerful that had just cracked. But you stood up tall. You left the classroom without a word.

And Sunghoon remained there, wand still in hand, staring at the door you had just closed behind you.

You fled the classroom like you could outrun that burning emptiness inside you. It wasn’t just anger. It was frustration. It was that cursed fear — the fear that maybe you were like that: unfeeling. Empty. Forever the daughter of a man they whispered about — a ruined legend. No one wanted to see you. Only the mask. The bloodline. The shadow and that damned scent of Amortentia you no longer even wanted to find.

You climbed up, to the Astronomy Tower. No one dared set foot in that place, especially not in the forgotten side classroom — too ancient, too cold for the faint-hearted. But you weren’t faint-hearted.Casting the spell to unlock the door was a reflex. The portal creaked open and shut behind you with a sharp snap. The stone was cold beneath your palms. The broken windows let in the light like a knife, slicing through the darkness.And yet, you weren’t alone. A sound behind you — soft but deliberate — made your jaw clench.

“You have no right to follow me,” you hissed, not turning around. “And certainly not to defend me in front of everyone. You’re the first who thinks I’m incapable of loving anyone.” Your voice came out acidic. Sharp. Poisoned. But Sunghoon didn’t flinch. He never did.

“Why does it bother you so much that someone treats you like a human being?” You spun around and stormed toward him, shoving him hard against the wall. The stone echoed from the impact his expression was ice but his eyes… his eyes said something entirely different.

“You’re pathetic,” you spat, face close to his. “You act like some perfect little Ravenclaw, but the moment I raise my voice, you come running after me like a puppy. It’s almost cute.” His jaw tensed. “And you act like a wounded child who lashes out just to avoid feeling exposed.” You let out a laugh. Low. Disbelieving. “See? You’re a walking contradiction, Sunghoon. Rational, perfect, distant — and yet here you are, chasing me up here just because you can’t stand the thought that someone said something to me… something you might’ve thought yourself.”

He stared at you for a long moment. His gaze dropped — briefly — to your lips, then came back up. “This loser, as you call him, is the only one today who had the guts to tell you you’re not alone. Even when you’re too proud to realize it.” And in that moment, something snapped. As if every word, every insult, every stolen glance in the corridors or during late-night patrols had finally reached its breaking point.

You kissed him.

It was impulsive. Rough. Angry. Your hands gripped the collar of his uniform and your lips crashed against his in a kiss that held nothing sweet. It was fire and defiance. It was revenge and hunger.

It was confusion — and… he responded with the same raw intensity.

His hands found your waist — but it wasn’t domination.

It was needed. A need so pure it made you tremble and yet, when you finally pulled apart, his eyes were cold again as if he’d just realized what had happened.

“Careful, Y/N,” he whispered, voice low and edged. “You might find out Ravenclaws can burn too.”

And you, with a bold, wicked smirk, shot back: “And you might find out Slytherins have a heart but only for those who earn it.”

As you kissed again, his hands gripped you with urgency, and you pushed him back onto the old, worn-out settee wedged between the walls and the dark windows of the tower. The floorboards creaked beneath you — but you didn’t care.

You straddled him, with the venomous elegance of someone who knows exactly how much control they hold.

Your hands took his face as you kissed him again — hungry as if that touch could wash away the bitterness in your mouth.

You bit his lower lip — intentionally.

He let out a low groan. You smiled. Fierce. Dangerous. “Really? You whimper at that, Hoon? I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be good at enduring… pain.” His pupils dilated as he stared at you.

“You’re a damn viper.”

“Thank you for the compliment.” You traced a nail along his throat — following the rhythm of his breath.

“Much better than sweetheart, darling, or princess. I’m not sweet, Hoon. I’m poison.”

“I’m starting to notice,” he murmured, voice low — with a crooked, defiant little smile, somewhere between awestruck and undone. You grabbed his cloak and yanked it off with purpose.

Then your fingers closed around the zipper of his hoodie.

With one firm pull, the heavy blue-and-black fabric slipped off his broad shoulders, revealing a fitted black tank top underneath.

Your gaze dropped to his chest — the sculpted lines of a lean, toned body beneath all that Ravenclaw rigidity.

“Well, well… who would’ve thought? Underneath all that top-of-the-class tension, there’s a body built for sin.”

He opened his mouth to reply — but you didn’t let him. You leaned in, kissing his neck — slow, deliberate — leaving behind small, growing marks.

Your teeth grazed his pale skin, your mouth sucking just enough to leave proof, one kiss at a time and every time you bit, you saw his skin bloom red like temptation, and inside, you felt something like pride.

Because tomorrow… tomorrow, he’d wear your marks — the marks of a Slytherin’s sin. Sunghoon held his breath, then whispered near your ear:

“They… might hear us…” You lifted your head just enough, your eyes locked onto his.

“What’s the matter, little Raven? Afraid someone might find out the golden boy moans while a Slytherin is marking him like he’s hers?”

He shut his eyes for a second, gritting his teeth.

“Merlin, you’re unmanageable.”

“No,” you whispered against his skin. “I’m irresistible. And you… you’ve fallen.”

You kissed him again — slower this time, deeper — while his hands slid up along your thighs beneath your uniform. It was a power game.

A battle of breath, of tension, of who would give in first. But neither of you wanted to surrender. Neither of you could. Not yet.

His hands trembled slightly beneath your lifted skirt, fingers hesitant — like he still thought he could stop this.

Adorable.

“What’s wrong, golden boy? Top of the class go mute the second he brushes against a wet pair of panties?”

He didn’t answer. His cheeks flushed, and that usual air of superiority vanished — replaced by something far more interesting:

Confused submission.

Without waiting, you took his hand and carried it exactly where you needed it. "You have studied forbidden spells, ancient formulas, and advanced potions… and yet you tremble at the thought of making me enjoy. How ridiculous you are." He inhaled slowly but did not back down. His fingers moved under the lace of your now-soaked panties and your horny, slow, hesitant cunt. When he touches you, moan loudly. Wet. Hot. Open. Just for him. "Look what you're doing to me, Ravenclaw…" he whispered against his mouth. He stuttered, kneaded with shame and desire.

"You like it, don't you? Make me like this. Feel my thighs tremble under your fingers. You want it as much as I do." His finger slipped into it, and your body reacted with a visceral tremor. You huddled over him, enjoying the way his control crumbled. "Shut up … please…" he muttered. "If they hear us…" You stopped for a moment just to smile. "That would be perfect, my love. Imagine someone coming in and finding you like this: with two fingers inside a Slytherin and your flap ready to explode." He gasped, almost moaning. And he sank another finger.

"Oh, fuck…" hissed, squeezing your thighs around his hand. "You're good, you know? A perfect guy who knows where to touch me. Who would have thought." "Y / n … you … you're fucking my hand…" he stammered with his eyes half-closed, his breath short. "Yes. And I will until you make me come so hard that I can't walk to the Common Room." His thumb moved-accurate, damn perfect. He began to tease your clit as you felt bloated with pleasure like a storm about to explode. Every time he pumped his fingers inside your poor cunt you would moan and he would bite his lips so as not to moan at the sight of you getting his fingers fucked and riding on them like it was your favorite thing.

"Faster," hissing through his teeth. "Let me enjoy it, Ravenclaw. Do something useful in your perfect life." His fingers sank, his thumb turned, and you couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed His hair, forced him to look at you as your body stretched. "I'm coming…" you said, but it was already too late. Pleasure swept you into a warm, slimy, pulsating wave. And he stood there beneath you, his fingers inside, his face upset, confused … excited like I've never seen him before. "Look how small you are," you told him while still breathing hard. "You made me enjoy with your fingers as if it were your mission. Maybe you should write it in your thesis." "Y/n… I…" he stammered, still with wet fingers. "Shhh," You put a finger on his lips. "Don't talk," you said as you kissed again.

That night, you weren't looking at him. For the past month, it had become almost a reflex: your eyes shifting to Hoon as soon as he entered the room, his flawless gestures, that voice always too calm, too sharp. But not this time. This time, you kept your gaze fixed ahead, your elbows at a distance from him, your mind elsewhere. And he felt it. He sensed it. It was like a sting to his pride. "Strange, Slytherin…" he whispered as you walked through the castle. "Tonight, you're not trying to seduce me with your gaze. What's going on? Don’t you notice your knight who defended you in front of everyone?" He said it with that half-irritating, sarcastic smile of his, the one only a Ravenclaw too clever for their own good could have. But you didn’t laugh. You slowly turned to him, your eyes as hard as marble.

"Funny. Still on about that? Even though you defended me, everyone thinks I’m incapable of loving anyone. And you know what? Maybe they’re right." He stiffened. He didn’t expect that. Not from you. He tried to say something, but you didn’t give him space. "And maybe you think so too, Hoon. No matter how much you pretend to be above it all… you let what they say about me influence you. You’re cynical. Fucking cynical." Hoon’s eyes darkened. He didn’t say anything. He took a step. Then another. And suddenly, his hands were on your hips. He shoved you against the wall with enough force to take your breath away. His face was very close.

"You don’t know anything about me." "Oh, I know far too well," you retorted, lifting your chin in defiance. "Your face is an open book, especially when you play the know-it-all. You know what people say, Hoon? That you’ve got a crush on me." He snarled through gritted teeth. "You’re arrogant. Superficial. And spoiled. You think you’re invincible just because people are afraid of you. But you’re just a broken little girl, hiding the emptiness behind lipstick and that bitchy attitude." You felt your heartbeat quicken. Not with anger. With something far more dangerous. "Go on, Ravenclaw. Tell me again how much I disgust you. Let me show you how much I get under your skin, while you're the first to chase me and want my body, maybe even my mind." "Under my skin?" he hissed. "You're a fucking toxin. You get inside me and ruin me. And yet here I am. Still on top of you."

He was about to kiss you. Maybe to yell at you. Maybe to implode. But it didn’t happen. The sound of footsteps broke the tension. Three prefects from other houses rushed toward you, visibly agitated. -Hey! Stop it right now, what the hell—" 'It’s not the time!' one of them intervened, worried. 'Three first-year kids are missing. We need to find them immediately. They might have gone into the Forbidden Forest.' You and Hoon exchanged a glance, still heavy breaths, the wall still warm against your back, his hands still firm on your hips. No one spoke. But something had changed and suddenly, the night had grown much darker.

The wind blew harshly against your cloaks, wet with snow, slicing at your cheeks like icy blades as you all moved in silence, wands raised, along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Detection spells floated through the air, one after another: Homenum Revelio, Point Me, Lumos Maxima… but nothing. No response. No trace. There were ten of you, and the professor split everyone into pairs. Naturally, you got paired with Hoon.

He walked ahead, stiff, silent, as if the cold didn’t touch him. You followed a few steps behind, wand clenched in your fist, steps careful, mind crowded. Every time a branch snapped or the snow rustled oddly, you instinctively moved closer to him. Until, without even noticing, you were practically pressed against his back.

“Using me as a human shield, Y/n?” he said without turning around, his voice as cold and sharp as ever.

Then, the scream. Shrill. Agonizing. It didn’t even sound human.

You grabbed his wrist without thinking. Hard. Your frozen fingers on his warm skin.

“Now’s not the time to be a smartass,” you growled. “There’s a child out there screaming.”

He looked down at your hand gripping his wrist like it was the only real thing in the middle of that blizzard. He swallowed hard. His jaw clenched violently. It was below freezing. But you… you were too close. Too warm. Too much.

“Your touch makes less sense than a Muggle in a Charms class,” he muttered, trying to hide the fact that he was practically burning up under his cloak.

Then you both screamed. At the top of your lungs.

No response. Just the storm. And then… a red light in the dark.

You ran. Fast. Brooms forgotten behind you. The light pulsed through the trees, flickering like an alarm.

And when you reached it— A young Gryffindor boy. Trapped. And in front of him… a five-headed beast. Towering. Twisted. Screaming. Its jaws gaping, drooling, circling the boy like a trap from hell.

“Minus 200 points to Gryffindor for being a monumental idiot,” Hoon said, unflinching.

“Are you insane?” you snapped. “Who gives a damn about points?! He’s in danger—we have to save him!”

Hoon scoffed. “Of course. Let’s reward stupidity, as usual.”

But despite the words, he raised his wand. “Fulgari!”

The spell’s glowing tendrils wrapped around one of the heads… but the creature reacted by tightening its body around the boy, who screamed, voice cracking: 'I don’t want to die! Help! Please!'

One of the heads lunged at you both, growling. You raised your wand, ready to fight. But Hoon stopped you with a hand against your chest.

“Go. Now. I’ll distract it.”

“Not a chance,” you growled back. But he didn’t listen.

“Expulso!” he shouted.

The creature staggered, and for a moment, it looked like it might retreat. But then… another head burst from the black mass of its back, snarling with rage, its red eyes locked solely on the two of you.

The snow seemed to freeze in midair.

You and Hoon exchanged a look. He was tense, sweating despite the cold, but his voice was steady.

"Hope you studied, Slytherin. Because this time… we need real magic.”

'Use a Patronus!' the boy cried out, tears streaking his face, voice broken.

You and Hoon exchanged a quick, tense look. The monster’s heads screeched and writhed around each other like frenzied snakes. The snow was falling heavier now, mixed with hail. The cold clung to your eyelashes.

“It’s too dangerous for you! We wouldn’t even manage a moth,” Hoon hissed, eyes locked on the creature.

But without thinking, you stepped forward, raising your wand with both hands. “Expecto Patronum!” … Nothing. Just wind. Your voice vanished into the void.

Panic tightened in your throat. But you shut your eyes. You searched for something. A thought. An emotion. And there it was—Hoon, back in class, defending you in front of everyone, unafraid of judgment. That moment when you realized that behind all the sarcasm and coldness, there was something more. He didn’t just see you as the loud, brazen Slytherin. He saw a girl who felt things. Who had her own fragilities.

“Expecto Patronum!” you shouted again, heart pounding like a drum.

A light ignited. Green and blue. It pulsed. Boiled. And then it burst.

From the snow and the glow, a shining, majestic serpent and a proud-eyed raven rose into the dark sky, spiraling together in a whirl of colored snow. They danced around the monster, striking. Its roar faded into a high-pitched screech—then silence. Gone. Only the ragged breathing of the boy remained.

You turned. Hoon was staring at you, mouth slightly open, eyes wide in disbelief, his lips caught between sarcasm and admiration.

“Don’t comment,” you panted, throwing him a look. And for once—he didn’t.

You rushed to the boy and wrapped him in your arms, trying to give him all the warmth you no longer had.

'I’m cold… but… your Patronus was beautiful,' he whispered, wide-eyed. “Thank you, little Gryffindor,” you murmured. “You made it too.”

A second later, a flash of light— And the Headmaster appeared before you with a sharp snap, his cloak rippling from residual magic.

-Incredible,- he said, looking at you and Hoon. -A joint Patronus. Haven’t seen one in… decades. Well done, both of you.- Then, turning to the boy with a sterner tone: -You risked your life tonight. From now on, you stay away from any path with trees. Understood?-

When you tried to Side-Apparate with the others, your wand trembled in your hand. Nothing. No effect.

“Perfect,” you muttered.

“You burned through too much energy,” Hoon said—without sarcasm, for once. “You’re insane. Don’t bother. Come with us.”

“No, you go with the Headmaster. I’ll… take a broom. Or walk. I’ll be fine.”

“Walk? With that thing still out there?” he growled. “Do you have blood in your brain or just snow?”

The Headmaster, calm as ever, raised a hand. -You’ll rest here. The Forest owes you something, tonight.-

And from the white trees, a small wooden cottage appeared—steep roof, chimney already smoking. A soft, golden light glowed from its windows.

You and Hoon looked at each other for a moment, then— You ran. Side by side. No words. Just warmth. Into that safe little pause in the world.

As soon as the door shut behind you, the sound of the storm vanished. The little cottage felt suspended in time: warm wooden walls, a thick rug laid out before a crackling fireplace, a bench stacked with folded blankets, and a faint scent of tea and oak in the air.

You pulled off your cloak, hands slightly trembling. Hoon did the same, silent, shaking the snow from his hair. He glanced at you and ran a hand down his face, like he still couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Then he burst out: “Are you completely insane? You just… cast a Patronus. A joint one, at that.”

“Yeah, and I also saved your ass, the kid’s, and mine. A ‘thank you’ wouldn’t kill you,” you shot back, crossing your arms, challenging glare locked on him.

He laughed—short, sharp, but not cruel. “You know that trying to cast it without being sure it would work could’ve knocked you out—or worse, right? But of course, the Slytherin princess had to shine.”

“Shine?” you scoffed. “Right, sorry—next time I’ll let you play the misunderstood hero while I blend into the damn wallpaper.”

Hoon eyed you, dark gaze narrowing with that look you knew all too well. He was about to pounce. And he did.

“That Patronus though. Green and blue? A serpent and a raven?” He paused, then added with that pointed tone: “So… what are we saying? A blend of you and me? Tragic. Romantic. Arrogant.”

“It wasn’t a blend,” you huffed. “It was just… powerful. You had nothing to do with it.”

He raised an eyebrow, smiling in that infuriating way only he could—sharp, precise, lethal. “Oh really? Shame. It looked… kind of intimate. Maybe your subconscious is trying to tell me something?”

“Yeah. That you’re a loser,” you muttered, stepping toward him with venom in your voice.

“Says the girl who grabbed my wrist in the snow like I was her favorite comfort blanket.”

“That was so you wouldn’t die, you idiot.”

“Admit it. You like making me worry.”

You rolled your eyes with a groan, but didn’t notice he’d already closed the gap between you. In a second, he pushed you—gently but firmly—against the wall, one hand at your waist, the other brushing your cheek, caught between provocation and something rawer.

Your heart slammed in your chest. The fireplace’s heat. His breath on your skin.

“You’re unbearable,” you whispered.

“Right back at you,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours.

And without giving you time to reply—he kissed you.

It wasn’t soft. It was a collision. All teeth, shallow breath, and desperate hands.

His body pressed hard against yours, your back against the wall, the world outside drowned out by everything you’d never said.

Sunghoon kissed you like he’d been waiting forever.

It wasn’t sweet. It was real. Raw.

You responded instantly, hands gripping the fabric of his cloak, pulling him closer with a force you didn’t even know you had.

He moved you back—toward the cottage’s small kitchen table. In a flash, you were sitting on top of it, the surface cold beneath you, his body warm and solid between your legs. He tugged at your lower lip with his teeth, and you let out a soft, broken moan, stolen right from your lungs.

His hands were everywhere—warm, certain—and when he gently bit your lower lip, a moan escaped you, more a hoarse whisper than an actual sound.

“Oh, look who’s moaning now,” he murmured against your mouth, wearing that arrogant smirk you knew all too well.

“Shut up, Park,” you shot back in a low, loaded voice. “I’m not in the mood for your games.”

You grabbed his thick cloak and tossed it to the floor, your lips finding his again—hungry, desperate. There was no space for anything else. Just hands, bodies, breath.

Your fingers slipped beneath his heavy sweater, brushing over his warm, flawless skin. “This needs to go,” you whispered, voice low and shameless.

“You can,” he replied, but his eyes held that familiar flicker—somewhere between surrender and craving.

You pulled it up by the hem, slowly, savoring every inch you uncovered. And as you did, your eyes dared him. “How many times have you dreamed of this, huh?”

He let out a low growl. “Shut up.”

You chuckled, pleased. You peeled off his second layer too, leaving him in nothing but a fitted black tank top that clung to his pale skin and highlighted the sculpted shape of his arms.

“Spread your legs,” he said, in that deep, rough voice that made your insides tremble.

You obeyed. And he moved in, closer, more real. His body pressed against yours, the difference in height only adding to the tension, thrilling and undeniable. You tilted him toward you slightly, your hands locking around the back of his neck with quiet insistence.

You started kissing him there, just below his ear, then down along his jawline. Your lips found the curve of his neck—hot, eager—and you sucked, leaving a mark.

Sunghoon let out a soft moan, low and involuntary. “Merlin... Y/n...”

“What?” you whispered against his skin, with a wicked smile. “Can’t handle a little real human contact?”

He opened his eyes, trying to stay composed. But you could see it, feel it—every word, every touch, you were pulling him apart piece by piece.

“I hate you,” he murmured again, but his voice shook.

“Oh yeah? Then come and prove it.”

His hands dove into the edges of your coat, and with one swift movement, he slipped it off your shoulders. His eyes stayed locked on yours, but when his hands slid under your Slytherin sweatshirt, his gaze darkened—sharpened. He yanked it off with a single pull, leaving you in nothing but that fitted emerald-green tank top… the one that seemed designed to tempt him.

"Slytherin to the last layer?"he provoked you, a raised eyebrow and dangerously low tone. "Even panties?" "Maybe," you replied with a sassy smile. "But if you want to know, you'll have to find out for yourself." He looked at you as if you were playing with fire — and maybe it was true. But he did not back down. "You really are a little nightmare dressed in silk," he hissed, still approaching. He leaned over you and his lips came back to your neck, this time slower, hungrier. He sucked it, nibbled it, as if he wanted to brand you. And when a groan escaped from your lips and your fingers caught in his hair, he came off for a moment, his eyes lit with a brazen desire.

"Tomorrow you will have purple marks everywhere, princess," he whispered, her voice hoarse. "We are magicians, Park. I'll hide them in two seconds."

"Don't you dare even think about it," he retorted in a darker, more possessive tone. "I want them to see each other. I want everyone to know exactly where I kissed you and that you are mine, my little viper." And he returned to your neck, sinking with a new determination, as if thirsty. He sucked your skin as if it were nectar, as if every inch had a spell just for him. Your groans filled the room, broken only by the sound of your heavy breaths.

Then he lowered himself, slowly, and his eyes rested on your chest. The tank top had lifted, allowing a glimpse of the soft curves that the bra, a little too tight, was trying to contain. His lips rested light above the cups, and he kissed you with an unexpected, almost adoring sweetness.

"Can I take it off?" he murmured, his forehead against your chest. "You can," he whispered, his voice broken with desire. His hands barely shook as he grabbed the hem of his tank top. He slowly took off your tank top, and his eyes darkened as he looked at you. His hands, still cold from the frost outside, slipped under your bra. He unfastened it with precision, and the moment he fell, your breasts were free, sensitive skin stretched by the air and attention of his eyes.

"Sensitive, huh?"he teased you, with a half-smile on his lips. You grabbed him by the collar of the tank top. "Bow down, Park. And suck.» He gave you a look that promised chaos. "You can just give me orders, huh?» Yet he obeyed. He leaned over, his hot lips touching one of your strained buds, then his tongue began to rub him flat. You felt yourself melt, a groan rolled out of you, broken. Then he just used his teeth, and your body strained.

"Hoon!"you screamed, his name rolled out of his lips like an escaped spell. "Always so responsive?"he teased you, his voice hoarse while with his other hand he drew you to himself even more. His hand closed on the other breast, with firm, hungry movements. "You're meant to be touched like that, you know?"he muttered, kissing and nibbling. "So soft. So ... mine."

"Don't say these things," you admonished him, trying to control you, but it was useless. His lips, his hands, were erasing all logic.

It came to you instinctively — you stuck a hand under his black tank top and pulled it up. He just came off your breast, a trickle of spittle shining on his lips. Your eyes rested on his toned, pale, almost unrealistically defined chest. You bit your lip, unable to hold back that little gesture. "You haven't seen anything yet, witch," he whispered, before stooping back, your bodies now closer together, your breasts brushing against his bare chest. They both groaned softly upon contact. "When I saw you in the prefects pool..." you whispered, " I wanted to jump on you." He looked up at you, surprised but amused. "And why didn't you?" You shrugged your shoulders with feigned innocence. "Maybe I wanted to make you suffer a little." "Cursed..." he growled quietly, and returned to kiss your breasts with even more desire, as if the confession had ignited something in him.

He continued to tease you, his mouth soft and careful on your breasts, until his lips began to descend slowly along your belly. Every kiss was like a spark that ignited you all, and you moaned, unable to hold back. "So receptive..." he muttered with a grin, his voice deep and hoarse. "Typical spoiled little princess."

"Don't let a Ravenclaw command me," you replied, lifting yourself up and looking him straight in the eye. "Not even if he has a language like yours." He laughed slowly, but in his eyes there was a new hunger. And you, with an instinctive move, unfastened his belt. His eyes just smiled as you did it. The pants slid down with a rustle, and you whistled softly at the sight of the black boer

"I thought you were more shy," he whispered. "And I thought you were less ... gifted," he retorted, touching it through the fabric. You felt him tense, hard. And you looked at him with a satisfied smile. "It's a pity that he always remains a poor Ravenclaw loser." He clenched his jaw, his eyes turned on.

"Watch how you speak, Y/n" But you still approached, his hands on yours even as yours drew him more forcefully to you. His forehead leaned against yours, and for a moment there was only silence, only breath. Then, slowly, with curious and determined fingers, you stuck your hand under the edge of his boxer. You felt his erection, the way his body reacted, the warm and alive skin under your hand.

"You're really ruined, Park." He closed his eyes, his jaw clenched, holding back a groan. "And I bet you're bad, too. It would take a hand of mine in your jeans you’d be wet" You admonished him with a smirk, but you tightened your grip a little, enough to make him moan — a deep, almost broken sound. "... little viper..." he muttered, his voice a thin thread between pleasure and torment. You giggled, dropping his boxer

"I don't think I'll last long..." he confessed with a restrained growl. You got even closer, your voice a whisper in your ear. "Then do it. Show me how much I ruin you." sunghoon was literally ruined. What he had dreamed of for months-perhaps since you launched your first poisonous joke in the Prefects ' corridor-was now real. And with your hand moving slowly against his cock, he could no longer think.

He slightly grabbed your shoulder, looking for an anchor point to reality. Hi voice trembled. "Y/n....i'm coming.."

"I know," you whispered with a devilish grin, accelerating the pace and barely squeezing. He sprinted forward, a restrained groan that became a growl. "You're a little viper."

"And this viper is making you look like a loser, Park." It was the end. One last, hoarse moan and yelled your name, your head bent back, your body contracted. His forehead leaned against your shoulder as he barely trembled, his breath broken.

His abdomen, the clear line of the V, was marked by the pleasure you had just caused, little pearly and slimy filaments ripped through his shiny abs and then he bent over, still panting, and whispered something in your ear — sweet words, but laden with desire, broken by his own astonishment. They made you vibrate inside. You, without saying anything, picked up with a finger the most noticeable trace of his sperm and, looking straight into his eyes, slowly brought it to your mouth. You sucked it with malice. "You are sweet, "you said," but slightly salty."

"You're sick," he muttered, halfway between the amused and the ruined. "And you're in love," you replied, laughing, gracefully stepping down from the table. You took him by the wrist, with your usual Slytherin confidence, and dragged him to the bed in the middle of the little house in the woods. "The principal really created a work of art. Ideal for couples to do smutty things."

He chuckled, but upon hearing the word couples, his heart skipped a beat. You didn't realize it — or maybe you did, but you didn't say it. You let yourself fall between the pillows with a naturalness that would make even a Veela pale. Your breasts moved slightly as you settled down. You looked at him with feigned impatience. "And you? What are you doing standing there?" Sunghoon shook his head, a smirk on his lips, still stunned by you. "You are impossible."

"And yet you are still here." He moved, climbed over you, with almost reverent slowness, and for a moment there was no more bickering, no game, no war. Just him and you, skin to skin. Sunghoon's dark tufts fell untidy on his forehead, damp with sweat and desire. You extended a hand, touching his cheek with your fingers, soft and slow, as if you were trying to memorize every line of his face. Your eyes were half-closed, loaded with something beyond provocation: a shred of vulnerability that you almost never showed.

He paused for a moment to look at you-as if he could not believe that you were really there, under him. Then, with that cheeky half-smile you knew all too well, he began to descend again, kissing every inch of your skin. When he got to the edge of your pants, he said nothing. Only the metallic sound of the zipper sliding down spoke for him. He whistled softly. "Fiery red panties, huh?"he said, raising an eyebrow. "And then you accuse me of being a pervert."

"Shut your mouth, Park," you admonished him, trying to sound superior. But your tone trembled a little.

"Open your legs."

"No."

His eyes became darker. "Stubborn to the last. Classic from Slytherin." And without waiting, with glacial calm and strong fingers, he opened them to you. His big hands wrapped around your thighs, slowly pushing them outward as you cast a poisonous glance at him. "I knew," he muttered.

"The whole scene." Then he lowered his head and began to kiss the skin of your inner thigh. Soft, quick bites marked his path, igniting every nerve beneath the surface. Every now and then he would stop and look at you from under his eyelashes, as if studying your reactions like an ancient spell. And when he got to the center of you, he said nothing. Just one kiss, one, full, slow. A groan escaped from your lips before you could stop it, and your back involuntarily arched. Sunghoon stopped, satisfied.

"And tell me now," he whispered against your skin, in a hoarse voice, "who is the loser, princess?" His fingers grazed the thin cloth, finding you exactly as he expected. He looked at you defiantly and triumphantly.

"Completely wet. For me." Then he bent over again, and your eyes lost all focus — you could only see his dark hair, his head between your thighs, and you could only feel the slow, firm pace with which he was tasting you like you were the only thing in the world. Your breath broke, a groan rose from your bowels, and his name escaped you like a prayer and a curse. "Hoon…" His tongue was a forbidden temptation. Every movement, precise and darn slow, made you falter as if a spell ran under your skin. He drew little eights with his tip, as if he wanted to draw your name on him-and you, with your lips ajar, groaned quietly, babbling his name like a supplication.

"H-Hoon ... what... what are you—"

"Shut up, viper," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and sharp. "I've never heard you so... true." And without warning, he slid a finger into you. A slow, exploratory motion that made you arch your back against the pillows. Your body reacted before you could even fight back.

"Park, I -" you tried to admonish him, but it was useless. He smiled, looking up just a second, his eyes lit up by something wild. And then, with a bold gesture, he brushed your center with his teeth. A light bite, calibrated. But it was enough to make you completely lose control. You screamed his name, fingers intertwined in his hair, looking for a foothold in reality.

"I bet you can get another one, right?"he whispered with a mischievous note. "Show me how good you really are."

"Yes..." you answered, in a broken voice. The second finger joined the first, and began to move with increasing pace. His eyes peered at you, hungry, and when you moaned louder, lips ajar and body trembling, he giggled. "Who is more beautiful, princess? Me ... or my fingers ruining you?» You bit your lip, not wanting to answer. Slytherin pride was hard to bend, even now. And he stopped. He left you there, suspended, a moment from the abyss. "No ... continue, Park!" He degraded you, in a low, provocative tone, but his gaze barely trembled. And when you gasped: "You are beautiful. And ... good at everything,"

he smiled for real, with a flash of triumph and a shadow of sweetness in his eyes. "I know," he replied. But his tone, this time, was less cold. More sincere. Almost amazed. "And you ... are my worst spell." His touch was fire. Every movement of his fingers inside you sent you into orbit, and despite the severed breath, you could not hold back the words. You yelled his name like it was the only spell that could keep you alive. Your hands were now lost in her hair, pulling them with force with every wave of pleasure that passed through you. He didn't stop. In fact, he seemed hungrier, more determined. He looked at you with those icy eyes that were now burning, and his voice, hoarse and confident, stuck in you.

"Come for me, Y / n ... I want to see you collapse. I want to know that no one can make you feel that way. Nobody but me." His words were the spark. Your body strained, the pleasure exploded like a liberated curse, and you let yourself go completely — trembling against his mouth and fingers. He did not look away even a moment, as if he wanted to stamp that moment in focus in the mind. When he stood up, he had the look of someone who has just won a war. He kissed you slowly, forcefully.

He gnawed at your lip as if he still wanted to taste you. "You know too much good," he muttered against your mouth, and the tone had something dangerously sweet. You barely moved, rubbing against him — your body still shaken, but eager for more. You felt his cock against you, still encased in his boer Your eyes rested on him and, in a bold and mischievous tone, you teased him: "All this ... because of a Slytherin." Sunghoon threw a fierce look at you, jaws clenched.

"Shut up." But you laughed slowly, enjoying the tension you had ignited. You pushed your hips against him and his breath broke. His body reacted instinctively, as if it had been enchanted by you all along. "Do you really want it?"he whispered, in a voice so low that it almost sounded like a threat. "Because if I sink into you now... there will be nothing left to hide. I'll take everything."

You looked at him, his pupils dilated, his heart in his throat. "Then do it, Ravenclaw. Take."

The only thing you really felt was him. Hoon. Every inch of his body pressed against yours, and every slow but deep push made you gasp, scratch, seek more contact, more friction. More than him. "Look how you take me..."he hissed at your throat, biting your skin as if he wanted to leave his signature there, indelible. "So tight, so wet. Is that what you want? To be used by me as a good, dirty Slytherin?"

"Yes..." you moaned, your voice almost broken with pleasure. "Yes, Hoon, please..." He lifted your leg, bending it against his side with controlled force, and sank back into you with a jerk that made you scream, your head falling backwards against the wall.

"Well" Another push, deeper.

"Do you feel how full your fucking pussy is?" Another one.

"You like it, don't you? Being fucked by one who treats you like a spoiled princess."

"I am..." you stammered, unable to lie. "My Slytherin princess version slut," he growled, grabbing your chin to make you look him in the eye. Cold eyes, precise. Calculator. But now, they were just burning for you.

"I bet you dream of being bent over a bench in empty classrooms. To enjoy me in the aisles while you're still wearing that damn green tie." Every word was a slap to your pride, but instead of breaking you, it made you shiver more. "Do you like it when I tell you that you are worth nothing but to be fucked? That behind that queen face of yours is only you, hot, trembling, hungry for me?"

"Yes ... Yes, Merlin, Hoon ... make me yours..." He pushed you even harder, making you moan louder and louder. One hand on your throat, to squeeze slightly, while the other crept between your bodies to touch you. Two experienced, cruel fingers brushed the spot where you were most sensitive, and you screamed without restraint. "Hear how you scream..." he hissed, excitedly. "I bet the owls in the woods are wondering who is the little slut who is taking me so well."

"Only you ..." you moaned. "Only you make me like this..."

"Damn, Y/n, you're made for this," he grunted, his thrusts faster and faster. "To be taken like this. Destroyed so. From me. From a Ravenclaw who never believed in anything but control. Look what you got me to do." Hoon's blows became fiercer, his breath more labored, and you could no longer hold back. The pleasure mounted inside you like a storm, and the scream escaped from your lips before you could even control it. "Hoon-I'm ... I'm going to—"

"Come for me." His voice was a hoarse order, full of lust and domination. "Make a mess. Dirty all this bed, so the headmaster is an idiot if he thought that leaving us alone in this little house would not lead to this." He smiled, kissing you hard as he continued to push into you with measured brutality.

"A bed, a bathroom, a tiny kitchen..." he laughed, panting ,"...like I didn't want to fuck you on all surfaces." It was at that moment that you screamed his name, trembling as the orgasm overwhelmed you with a power that emptied your breath. Your body clasped around his, and your legs snapped like traps around his waist. But he did not stop. Not yet.

"Look how tight you are ... still," he hissed, his voice now broken by the pleasure that approached even for him. "I make you mine, for real now. I want you full. Full of my cock and cum, you little snake."

"Hoon... no - not inside..."

"Shut up." His voice became dark, dirty with desire. "You are mine. And I want to fill you. Until you drip on everything you touch." He took you with deep, raw blows, until his breath broke against your skin. And then, he came. Hot, heavy, inside you. You felt his body shake against yours, his fingers clasping your hips as if he wanted to carve you into the flesh. His cum trickled slowly down your thighs, as you both gasped in the dark load of moans and sweat. He came off slowly, with his last breath still against your chest, then dragged you with him to the bed still disheveled. He grabbed you by the side and pulled you against his chest, sinking his face into your neck, as if that contact held him anchored to reality.

One of his hands lazily moved towards your face, long thin fingers caressing your cheek still reddened. You, still half distraught with pleasure, let yourself go on his chest, setting your head against his. "Little viper..."he whispered with a tired smile. "I don't know if I want to strangle you or marry you."

"I hate you..." you murmured at him, a smirk on his lips.

"Mmh. Lie. You're obsessed with me." He gave you a slow kiss behind the ear.

"And you from me."

The next morning, the world outside the little house felt muffled. Snow was falling slowly, silently, and the crackling of the fireplace was the only sound filling the room. You woke up to the lingering scent of burning wood in the air and Hoon’s warm body wrapped around yours.

His bare skin against yours was a silent reminder of everything that had happened just a few hours earlier. His slow, steady breathing made his chest rise and fall gently, and you nestled against him a bit more, as if that simple movement could somehow let you stay there forever.

You lifted yourself slightly, carefully, trying not to wake him. You looked at him—really looked at him.

The morning light filtered through the thin curtains, allowing you to take in every detail: the long lashes, the slightly parted lips, the faint crease between his brows. And then, his moles. The ones you had memorized long ago, like a secret map meant only for you.

Your hand moved on its own, without thinking. Your fingers brushed lightly over the small mole beneath his left eye. Then the one on the bridge of his nose, just above the curve. The tiny one on his cheek. And finally, the one beneath his ear, invisible unless you knew exactly where to look.

“Mmh…” he murmured sleepily, a half-groan in his throat. “Still tracing my moles? Haven’t you gotten tired of mapping my face like you’re trying to decode some ancient script?”

You smiled softly, not stopping your touch, and your eyes met his—still a bit drowsy, hazy from sleep.

“I’m just cataloging you, Ravenclaw… Don’t they serve some kind of purpose? Like little stars placed just right to be studied.”

“Studied, huh?” he chuckled, his voice rough and deep. “Or worshipped?”

“Don’t get cocky.” You rolled your eyes, but your gaze had softened more than you intended.

He stretched lazily, then moved closer, fingers tracing idle lines across your back.

“My viper’s going soft… should I be worried?”

“She’s just sleepy,” you murmured.

He gave a half-smile—the one he saved only for you. The one that said nice try, I see right through you. Then his voice dropped, a bit more serious now:

“Do you think that from now on, when you smell Amortentia, you’ll catch my scent?”

Your heart skipped a beat—subtle and sudden. You looked at him, your fingers drifting back to the mole beneath his eye.

“If I start smelling old books, wet moss, and… mint tea? Then I’ll know who to blame.”

He smiled again, this time more softly.

“And I’ll always smell that scent your skin carries after you’ve spent hours teasing me. The one that reeks of trouble.”