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kiszjuli · 4 months ago

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𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 ──── [𝐋.𝐃𝐇] 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

( 이동혁 ) ; 𝐟𝐞𝗺!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐝𝗼𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐜𝐤

──── in which your parents had always told you to stay away from boys like haechan. boys with cocky smirks, black eye liner, bruised knuckles, and a reputation that came with warning labels. you never had a reason to listen until you were assigned to tutor him after school. it should have been simple. help him pass, get it over with. but there’s something about him that drew you in, and you didn’t want to pull away.

✦ drama, fluff/angst, slow burn(ish). forbidden love? ; tags. goodgirl!reader x badboy!haechan, suggestive, your parents are literal jerks, swearing, mentions of fighting, kissing !!, protective!haechan, corruption? but not really, lmk if i missed any ! ;

𓂃 w.c [ 15.3k / 22.7k ]

!! not proofread !!

▸ j.note ; i hadn’t planned on making this fic so long but emo haechan does something to me i guess. also pls pls give feedback i want to improve my writings in the best way possible and i know my writing needs a lot of work, so constructive criticism is encouraged.

▸ this is part one of two and part two can be found here .ᐟ

you had never been the type to chase trouble.

your life had always been structured, predictable, mapped out like a perfectly folded brochure of all the things you were supposed to be. the good daughter. the responsible student. the girl who never gave anyone a reason to worry.

your parents raised you with expectations as solid as the fence that surrounded your house. good grades, early curfews, polite smiles at dinners. you were the kind of girl who double-checked her answers before turning in a test, who texted home before she was even late, who never spoke back even when she wanted to.

it wasn’t that you minded. not really.

your life was safe—comfortable.

weekends were spent with the same close friends, at the same coffee shop on the corner, drinking the same latte every time and reviewing notes for exams that were still weeks away. after school, you went straight home, sometimes stopping by the bookstore if you had extra time, flipping through pages of novels where the main characters lived lives far more reckless than your own.

and you liked it that way. you liked knowing where you belonged, knowing exactly what came next.

because trouble was for other people. rule-breakers, risk-takers. the kind of people who never thought twice about consequences. people who didn’t care.

the kind of people like him. lee donghyuck—or as he preferred to be called, haechan.

lee donghyuck had always been a name whispered in the hallways, wrapped in either amusement or warning. he was the boy who skipped class but somehow still seemed to do well, the boy who wore silver rings on his fingers, black eyeliner and bruises on his knuckles, the boy who flirted with everyone but never let anyone close.

he was reckless in a way that made people watch him like a fire they couldn’t look away from.

and you? you were the girl who had spent her whole life avoiding flames.

—

science had always been your best subject.

there was something reassuring about it—formulas that always worked, reactions that could be predicted, rules that never changed. if you followed the steps, you got the right answer. it was logical. reliable.

but not everyone saw it that way.

from the back of the classroom, haechan let out a quiet sigh, loud enough that a few students glanced his way. he was slouched over his desk, barely pretending to take notes, the end of his pen tapping lazily against his open textbook.

“can anyone explain why increasing the concentration of reactants speeds up a chemical reaction?” the teacher asked.

your hand went up without hesitation.

“because a higher concentration means more particles in the same space,” you answered. “so there’s a greater chance of collisions between them.”

“correct,” your teacher said, nodding approvingly.

from the corner of your eye, you caught movement. haechan had lifted his head just enough to glance in your direction, his gaze slow and assessing. when you turned to meet it, he didn’t look away, but just studied you, the corner of his lips twitching like he was in on some joke you weren’t part of.

your teacher moved on, scribbling equations across the board, but haechan didn’t so much as pretend to care. he stretched, tipping his chair back onto two legs, hands folded lazily over his stomach, like he was just waiting for the bell to save him from all of this.

you turned back toward the front, exhaling through your nose. it annoyed you, yet you didn’t know why.

it didn’t matter, it had nothing to do with you.

he didn’t matter.

or at least, that’s what you had always thought until today.

—

you were halfway through packing your books when you heard your name.

“could you stay back for a moment,” your teacher said, just as the last bell rang.

you paused, glancing up as students shuffled past your desk, their conversations blending into white noise. you couldn’t think of a single reason you’d need to stay—your grades were perfect, your assignments were always on time, and you definitely didn’t cause any trouble.

but then the teacher said another name.

“donghyuck, you too.” you heard him correct the teacher of his name under his breath.

your fingers curled around the thick textbook you were shoving in your bag.

he was slouched at his desk, twirling a silver ring around his finger, eyes half-lidded like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. it took him a second to react, but when he did, it was with an exaggerated sigh, dragging himself upright like even this was too much effort.

the classroom emptied around you until it was just the three of you, the weight of the silence settling in as the teacher folded her arms over her desk.

“haechan,” she started, “you’re failing. if you don’t pass your next exam, you’re going to have to repeat this class. and you know what that means.”

he leaned back on the closest desk to the teacher’s, completely unfazed, crossing his arms. “that i get the pleasure of spending another semester with you?”

your teacher didn’t so much as blink. “it means you will not graduate with your class. you need this credit.”

that got a reaction. his arms uncrossed as haechan’s smirk slipped, just slightly.

“which is why,” she continued, turning to you, “you’re going to tutor him.”

your mouth parted slightly. “wait—”

“you’re the top of this class,” she cut in, before you could protest. “if anyone can help him pass, it’s you.”

you swallowed. the request made sense—on paper. but logic didn’t stop the heat of his gaze as it flickered toward you, as he finally seemed to take you in.

slowly, he let his eyes drag up and down, taking his time.

your unwrinkled clothes. your neatly done hair. the way you clutched your bag like it was a lifeline.

his lips curled at the edges, something amused, something almost lazy, and yet, you felt it. the weight of being looked at like that.

“seriously?” he drawled, tilting his head, eyes still on you. “her?”

your spine straightened. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

he smiled like he’d already won. “nothing, sweetheart.”

your teacher exhaled sharply, already tired of him. “this isn’t optional. you’ll meet and study together, and if i hear that you’ve skipped even once, i will not hesitate to let you keep your failing grade. understood?”

haechan sighed, tipping his head back like this was the greatest inconvenience of his life. then, with the ghost of a smirk still tugging at his lips, he muttered, “yeah, yeah. whatever you say.”

you could already tell. this was going to be impossible.

—

you walk out of the classroom first, stepping a little harder than intended. this wasn’t how you planned to spend your semester. tutoring some guy who didn’t even try, who slouched in his seat like he was too good for all of it, who looked at you like you were something to be amused by.

the hallway was mostly empty now, students already heading home or to their next activities. you were almost free, when a voice called out behind you.

“so, tutor, when do we start?”

you didn’t stop walking. “the library. after school tomorrow.”

haechan caught up easily, his pace unhurried, like this was all some joke to him. “ugh, the library?” he groaned. “how predictable.”

you glanced at him, unimpressed. “where else are we supposed to study? a convenience store?”

“actually, yeah.” he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, shooting you a smirk. “sounds more fun. we could get snacks. maybe a drink. aren’t tutors supposed to motivate their students?”

you exhaled sharply. he’s messing with you. you knew it, and yet, somehow, he still got under your skin.

“you don’t need motivation,” you said flatly. “you just need to study.”

“eh, debatable,” he mused. “i think what i need is a tutor who’s a little more flexible. less ‘strict teacher,’ more ‘cute classmate who wants to help me succeed.’”

you stopped walking.

haechan took a few more steps before realizing you weren’t next to him anymore. he turned, an eyebrow raised, just as you crossed your arms.

“okay, let’s get something straight,” you said, voice firm. “this isn’t a favor. i don’t want to tutor you, but i have to. and i don’t care if you think it’s boring or predictable, because it’s either this or you fail. so if you actually want my help, show up tomorrow. on time. otherwise, don’t waste my time.”

for a second, he just looked at you, head tilted like he was reevaluating something.

then, instead of answering, he let his gaze drag over you, slowly, like he was seeing you for the first time.

you stiffened under the weight of it, but refused to look away.

after a beat, he grinned.

“damn,” he murmured, almost to himself. “you’ve got a little fire under all that perfection, huh?”

you huffed, turning on your heel. “just be there.”

“yes, ma’am.”

you ignored him.

but as you walked away, you could still feel his smirk and stare burning into your back.

—

you barely stepped through the front door before your mom called out from the kitchen.

“you’re home later than usual.”

you set your bag down by the entryway, slipping off your shoes. “the teacher kept me after class.”

that was enough to get both of your parents’ attention. your dad looked up from where he sat on the couch, while your mom leaned against the counter, a slight crease forming between her brows.

“for what?” she asked, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

you exhaled, already bracing yourself. “she assigned me to tutor someone. he’s failing, and she thinks I can help him pass.”

your dad hummed approvingly. “well, that’s nice of you. who is it?”

you hesitated for half a second.

“haechan.”

the shift in the room was immediate. your mom stilled, and your dad turned completely this time, exchanging a glance with her before turning back to you.

“him?” your mom repeated, her voice careful.

“yes, him.” you folded your arms. “why does it sound like you already know who he is?”

your dad sighed, setting the paper aside. “people talk, sweetheart. he’s got a reputation.”

you rolled your eyes. “so what? he slacks off in class?”

your mom pursed her lips. “it’s more than that. skipping school, getting into trouble, hanging around the wrong crowds…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “just—be careful around him, honey.”

there it was. the warning.

and, of course, the assumption that you couldn’t think for yourself.

you sighed, rubbing your temple. “i’m not hanging out with him. i’m tutoring him. in the library. with textbooks.” you glanced between them. “pretty sure that’s not a crime.”

your mom didn’t look convinced, and your dad only leaned back in his seat, his expression unreadable.

“just don’t let him pull you into anything,” he said. “kids like that don’t change.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, a flicker of irritation curling in your chest.

they made it sound like you were helpless. like the second you spent time with him, you’d suddenly throw your whole life away. everything you’ve built for yourself.

you shook your head. “it’s not that serious.”

and before either of them could say anything else, you grabbed your bag and headed for your room, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary.

they were overreacting.

they didn’t know him.

and neither did you.

—

session one - monday february 23rd

the school day dragged.

it wasn’t any different from usual; classes, notes, the occasional group discussion, but today, there was a lingering awareness hanging over you. a ticking clock in the back of your mind, counting down to the inevitable.

you weren’t looking forward to tutoring haechan. but you had a job to do, and if he didn’t show, well… that was his problem, not yours.

by the time the final bell rang, you had already secured a table in the library, setting out your textbook, notebook, and a few highlighters. everything was neatly arranged. you had a plan, a structured breakdown of the material he needed to catch up on.

and yet, fifteen minutes passed.

then twenty.

you checked your phone, tapping your pen against your notes.

was he seriously going to ditch on the first day?

finally, you heard footsteps approaching, and then a familiar voice, drawling, “damn. you’re really taking this seriously, huh?”

you glanced up to see haechan standing there, hands in his pockets, looking completely unfazed. like he hadn’t just wasted almost half an hour of your time.

you exhaled sharply. “you’re late.”

“fashionably,” he corrected, dropping into the chair across from you.

you leveled him with a stare. “i don’t think that applies to studying.”

he shrugged. “guess we’ll find out.”

already, your patience was wearing thin. you pushed the textbook toward him, flipping to the section you had marked. “let’s start with reaction rates. you need to understand how—”

he wasn’t listening.

instead of looking at the notes, he was looking at you, head tilted slightly, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“you always sit this straight?” he mused, tapping his pen against the table.

you blinked, looking up from the textbook. “what?”

“just saying. you’re sitting like you’re taking an exam or something.” he leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “relax. tutoring’s not life or death.”

you ignored the heat creeping up your neck and flipped open your notebook instead. “can we focus?”

he hummed, like he was considering it. then, before you could continue, he leaned forward slightly, eyeing your arrangement of highlighters and pens.

“bet you highlight in, like, five different colors.”

you clenched your jaw. four, actually, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of being right.

when you didn’t respond, he grinned, undeterred. “does tutoring me ruin your whole ‘perfect student’ reputation?”

you inhaled slowly, gripping your pen a little tighter. “only if you fail,” you said flatly.

he let out a soft laugh, finally glancing at the textbook. “alright, alright. hit me with the science.”

you exhaled, pushing past your irritation. this was going to be a long session.

but one way or another, you were getting through to him.

—

the next hour closed and you left the library still irritated—but more at yourself than him.

why had your heartbeat picked up when he had leaned in? why had his teasing stuck in your head longer than necessary?

get a grip.

the school hallways were mostly empty by now, just a few stragglers grabbing things from their lockers or heading to practice. you stopped by your own locker, swapping out your books for what you needed, then headed outside.

the late afternoon air was crisp, the sky shifting into a soft orange glow. you walked home, already thinking about how you’d explain the session to your parents.

(you wouldn’t. you’d just tell them it happened and leave it at that.)

continuing your walk, barely making it past the school you hear a voice from behind you.

“yo, tutor.”

your head snapped up.

haechan. again.

he was leaning against a lamppost a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, the same knowing smirk playing at his lips.

“we should celebrate.”

you frowned. “celebrate what?”

“me actually getting an answer right, obviously.” he straightened, stretching his arms behind his head. “c’mon, don’t be boring. you never just—i don’t know—do something on a whim?”

you had remembered the question he got right—which was simply the question you had answered yesterday in class. you narrowed your eyes. “if this is your way of trying to get out of studying next time—”

“relax.” he chuckled. “just messing with you. see you at our very serious study session next time, tutor.”

and with that, he strolled off like he hadn’t just left you standing there, your thoughts an even bigger mess than before.

—

session two - wednesday the 25th

you told yourself you wouldn’t get annoyed this time. you even mentally prepared for his usual antics before heading to the library.

it didn’t work.

haechan was late again. this time only by ten minutes, but still. he strolled in with an iced coffee in one hand, a lazy grin on his face like he hadn’t kept you waiting.

“you get extra credit for showing up on time, you know.”

“damn, should’ve known,” he drawled, sliding into the seat across from you. “maybe next time.”

you sighed, pushing the textbook toward him. “no distractions today.”

“that’s asking a lot.”

“it’s not.”

to your surprise, he actually made an effort. at least at first. he followed along as you explained reaction mechanisms, even nodded a few times like he understood. but the second things got even slightly complicated, he leaned back and groaned.

“why do i even need this? it’s not like i’m gonna be a scientist.”

“you need it to pass.”

“passing is overrated.”

“says the guy who’s literally failing.”

he just grinned, spinning his ring around his finger. “touché, sunshine.”

the nickname caught you off guard, making your stomach flip in a way that was foreign to you. whether he noticed your shift or not, he continued to use the name anytime he talked to you.

progress was slow, but you managed to get through two topics before he started messing around again, twirling his pen, asking dumb hypothetical questions that had nothing to do with chemistry.

“if i fail, do you fail too? since you’re my tutor?”

“no.”

“damn. no stakes for you then, huh?”

“just the overwhelming frustration of having to deal with you.”

“you wound me.” he clutched his chest dramatically, then smirked. “you sure you’re not starting to like our little sessions, though?”

you rolled your eyes. “go home, haechan.”

he laughed as he stood up, giving you a lazy salute before walking off.

session three - friday the 27th

miraculously, haechan was on time. but that didn’t mean he behaved.

“don’t look so shocked, tutor.” he plopped into his usual seat. “i can be responsible when i wanna be.”

“so, you just choose not to be?”

“exactly.”

today, he actually put in a little more effort, asking questions instead of just guessing his way through answers. you started to think, maybe this tutoring thing wouldn’t be a total waste of time.

and then, halfway through, he got bored.

“okay, pop quiz,” he said, snapping his book shut. “if you had to get a tattoo, what would it be?”

you blinked. “we are not doing this.”

“come on, humor me.”

“fine,” you muttered, flipping through your notes. “something small. simple. maybe a quote.”

“predictable,” he teased. “what if i said i’d get your name tattooed?”

you shot him a deadpan look. “then i’d question all of your life choices.”

he laughed, drumming his fingers against the table. “nah, i’d get something cool. a dragon or something. or maybe—” he wiggled his brows. “a chemical equation, just for you.”

“how generous.”

“i try.”

somehow, even with the distractions, he managed to retain at least some of what you covered. as you packed up, he tapped his pen against the table.

“hey, sunshine.”

you glanced up, not missing his smirk at your responding to the name.

“don’t miss me too much over the weekend.”

“leave.”

he laughed all the way out the door.

session four - monday march 2nd

you were already exhausted from the start of the new week, and haechan wasn’t helping.

“mondays shouldn’t exist,” he grumbled, dropping into his chair.

while you agreed, you had to keep him focused. “you still have to study.”

“brutal.”

you launched straight into the material, ignoring his dramatic sighs and complaints about how unfair school was. surprisingly, he focused for a solid thirty minutes—until he caught you tapping your foot.

“you’re impatient today,” he observed, tilting his head.

“or maybe i just want you to actually learn something.”

“i am learning. look,” he pointed at an equation. “i even remember this one.”

you checked. he was right.

“wow,” you deadpanned. “you have a functioning brain after all.”

“careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

despite yourself, you bit back a smile.

the session ended with him actually completing the assigned questions, granted, after a lot of coaxing. as you packed up, he tapped the table again, just like last time.

“see you wednesday, sunshine.”

this time, you didn’t tell him to leave.

you did however, roll your eyes as he walked away, still grinning.

—

session five – wednesday the 4th

it was one of those days.

haechan was late—again. not by much, but enough to make you grit your teeth when he finally strolled in, a bag of chips in one hand, looking like he had nowhere better to be.

“don’t look at me like that, sunshine.” he smirked as he slid into his seat. “traffic was brutal.”

“you walk here.”

“damn. caught me.”

you inhaled sharply through your nose, pushing the worksheet toward him. “just start.”

he did. kind of.

five minutes in, he was tapping his pen against the table. ten minutes in, he was spinning his rings. fifteen minutes in, he was leaning back in his chair with a yawn.

“haechan,” you warned.

“hmm?”

“can you at least pretend to care?”

he grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “depends. does it bother you?”

you shook your head. “whatever.”

“relax, sunshine.” he tilted his head. “you’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

you ignored the way heat crept up your neck. “just answer the question.”

he glanced at it. “mm… ‘catalyst slows down a reaction.’”

you shut your eyes, inhaling deeply. “no. it speeds up a reaction—”

“eh, close enough.”

“no, it’s not—” you cut yourself off, exhaling sharply. “are you even trying?”

“nah.”

that was it.

“then why the hell are we even doing this?”

he blinked at you, momentarily caught off guard. but you were already pushing back your chair, stuffing your notes into your bag with sharp, deliberate movements.

“if you fail, that’s your problem. not mine.”

you didn’t wait for a response. just walked out, leaving him sitting there—still smirking, but something in his expression had shifted.

session seven – monday the 9th

the session was supposed to be like any other. you’d prepared the material, you had everything set up, and you were expecting the usual. you didn’t expect haechan to show up on time—or at least not to show up with an actual sense of purpose.

he slung his bag over the chair and slumped down. his usual cocky grin wasn’t there.

“what’s wrong with you?” you asked, surprised at how… serious he seemed.

he didn’t answer right away, instead just staring at the notes in front of him with furrowed brows.

“this is dumb,” he muttered under his breath.

you raised an eyebrow. “what’s dumb? the concept? the subject? or… you?”

he flicked his eyes to you, but there was no usual smirk, just irritation. “all of it.”

you frowned. “this isn’t the usual ‘i don’t care’ routine. what’s going on?”

he didn’t meet your eyes, instead flicking through the textbook like he was hoping to find a way out of this.

“i just don’t get it,” he said, voice tight.

you sat back, eyeing him carefully. you were so used to him breezing through everything, acting like he didn’t care, so this sudden frustration was… different. it threw you off.

“you’ve got this. we’ve gone over it before.”

“yeah, well, it’s not clicking today,” he shot back, rubbing his temples like he was battling a headache.

you leaned forward, speaking more gently than usual. “haechan, this stuff isn’t hard. you just have to stop shutting down every time it gets tough.”

he looked at you for a long moment, eyes soft but frustrated. he clearly didn’t want to admit that maybe, just maybe, you were right.

“i don’t shut down,” he muttered. “it’s just… everything else is easier. this? it feels like i’m failing at something i can’t even explain.”

you blinked, taken aback. haechan never let anything get to him, at least not this much.

“okay,” you said, shifting your tone to something a little more reassuring. “we can take it slow. i’ll help you through it.”

but even as you said it, you knew it wasn’t just about the chemistry. there was something deeper in his frustration—something he wasn’t saying.

he sat back in his chair, massaging his temples. “maybe i just don’t get it because i’m not supposed to. i’m not like you, sunshine.”

“no, you’re not,” you said softly. “but i know you can get it. you have to try.”

there was a long silence between you, and for the first time in a while, you realized that your usual teasing, quick comebacks wouldn’t fix this.

haechan’s eyes met yours for a fleeting second, something raw in them. then, he sighed.

“this is stupid,” he muttered, but there was a softness to his voice. “i’ll try.”

and for once, you believed him.

—

days later, sunday dinner was quiet, just the soft clinking of utensils against plates and the low hum of the tv in the background. your parents had been giving you a look all evening. the kind that meant they had something to say but were waiting for the right moment.

you didn’t have to wait long.

“so,” your mom started, too casually. “how’s tutoring going?”

you didn’t even glance up from your plate. “fine.”

“fine?” your dad echoed. “that’s it?”

you shrugged, poking at your food. “what else is there to say?”

your mom set down her fork. “is he at least putting in effort?”

you huffed. “define effort.”

they exchanged a glance, the kind that made you feel like a kid again, like they already knew exactly what was going on.

“we just want to make sure he’s not wasting your time,” your dad said. “if he’s not serious about learning, you don’t have to keep doing this.”

“he’s… getting better,” you admitted, though you weren’t sure if it was entirely true. he was trying, in his own way, but it was a slow process.

your mom still looked unconvinced. “just be careful, sweetheart.”

you frowned. “careful?”

“boys like him…” she hesitated, choosing her words. “they can be a distraction.”

“he’s not a distraction,” you said immediately, but the way she raised an eyebrow made your stomach twist.

and then— “you’re not getting a crush on him, are you?”

you nearly choked. “what? no. why would you even—?”

“because it happens,” your dad cut in, giving you a pointed look. “you spend enough time with someone, and next thing you know, you start making excuses for them.”

“i’m not making excuses.” you leaned back in your chair, suddenly desperate to get out of this conversation. “and i definitely don’t have a crush on him. it’s just tutoring. that’s it.”

they didn’t argue, but the look in their eyes said enough.

—

session ten – monday the 16th

you weren’t sure why your parents’ question was still echoing in your head. it was ridiculous, really. you didn’t have a crush on him. just because he was annoying, and cocky, and had that stupid smirk that made your stomach flip sometimes—no. not sometimes. never. it didn’t matter.

but still, as you walked into the library, setting your bag down at the usual table, you felt weirdly… off. distracted.

you pulled out your notes, trying to shake the thought, but haechan just had to say something.

“damn, sunshine. you look tense. bad day?”

you jumped slightly at his voice. he was standing next to you now, one hand gripping the chair as he spun it lazily before sitting down. he was late, as usual, but this time you hadn’t even noticed.

“fine,” you said quickly, focusing on your notes.

“you sure?” he tilted his head, leaning forward on the table. “you look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

you did. but there was no way in hell you were going to tell him what.

“it’s nothing,” you said, too quickly. “let’s just get started.”

but as the session went on, you found yourself more distracted than usual. every time he leaned in, every time he ran a hand through his hair, every time he smirked at something that wasn’t even funny, you thought of your parents’ voices in your head.

“you’re not getting a crush on him, are you?”

no. you weren’t. you refused to.

but then he tapped his pen against the table, glancing at you through his lashes. “you’re really off today, sunshine. what’s up?”

and maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was the fact that you hated how observant he could be, but you snapped.

“you. you’re up. why do you talk so much?”

he blinked, clearly not expecting that. then, he grinned. “because you like it.”

“i don’t.”

“liar.”

you groaned, running a hand down your face. this session was going to be impossible.

—

session twelve - friday the 20th

you had a feeling he wasn’t going to show up.

maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t texted all day—not that he ever really did, but usually, there was something. some offhand comment about how he was so tired or how he was mentally preparing for another “brutal” study session. but today? nothing.

still, you sat at the usual table, notes spread out, waiting.

and waiting.

until finally, you checked the time and realized it had been forty-five minutes.

you scoffed, shoving your notes back into your bag with more force than necessary. of course he wouldn’t show up. of course, he’d waste your time like this.

this was exactly why you didn’t like him.

not that you had to remind yourself. but things like this. his impulsiveness, his lack of reliability, the way he did whatever he wanted without considering anyone else, made it so much easier to not like him.

except, if that were really true, you wouldn’t be this pissed off.

you stormed out of the library, typing out a single text before shoving your phone deep into your pocket.

“seriously?”

no greeting. no unnecessary words. just that.

and when he didn’t respond, you told yourself you didn’t care.

even though, somehow, he was all you could think about for the rest of the night.

—

the weekend was quite eventful.

saturday -

you weren’t mad.

at least, that’s what you told yourself as you pulled out your laptop that morning, trying to focus on the essay you’d been putting off. it had nothing to do with him. nothing to do with the fact that he’d completely wasted your time yesterday. it wasn’t like you cared.

but when your phone lit up beside you, your heart jumped a little too fast. you grabbed it instinctively. only to see a notification from your bank about your spending this month.

you exhaled sharply, tossing your phone aside. see? you weren’t waiting for a text. because you weren’t expecting one. because you didn’t care.

still, you had to physically stop yourself from checking your messages every hour, and by the time the afternoon rolled around, you were in a terrible mood.

saturday night -

“so let me get this straight,” your friend, karina said, stirring her drink lazily. “he didn’t show up. didn’t text. and…now you’re mad about it.”

you scowled, leaning back in your chair. “i’m not mad.”

she raised an eyebrow. “you sure? cause you seem pretty mad.”

you crossed your arms. “i just don’t like when people waste my time. it’s inconsiderate.”

“right.” karina smirked, tilting her head. “but it’s weird, isn’t it? because you weren’t even this mad when you thought he wasn’t taking tutoring seriously. but now? now he misses one session, and suddenly, it’s a big deal?”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “that’s not the point.”

“mhm.” she sipped her drink, clearly unconvinced.

you refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction, but as you stared down at your untouched food, a thought crept into your mind.

was she right?

sunday afternoon -

you spotted him before he saw you.

standing by the counter at the campus café, looking as unbothered as ever. hoodie slightly loose around his shoulders, rings glinting under the dim lighting as he scrolled through his phone.

he wasn’t avoiding you, then. because avoiding would at least mean he knew he did something wrong.

the irritation that had been simmering all weekend bubbled over. before you could think twice, you were already walking toward him.

“oh, hey, sunshine.” he glanced up as you stopped beside him, smiling like nothing had happened. “you look cute when you’re brooding.”

you didn’t waste time. “you didn’t show up.”

he shrugged, slipping his phone into his pocket. “yeah. something came up.”

“something came up?” your voice was sharper than intended, but you didn’t care. “you could’ve at least said something.”

he leaned against the counter, studying you with an amused tilt of his head. “why? you miss me?”

your fingers curled into fists at your sides. because he was doing this on purpose. pushing, testing, waiting to see how much you’d react. and you hated that it was working.

“you’re unbelievable.” the words came out in a breath, laced with frustration.

and then you turned on your heel and walked away before you could say anything else you’d regret.

but the worst part? the absolute worst part?

he was still in your head, and you didn’t know how to make it stop.

—

session thirteen - monday the 23rd

for the next two weeks, you and haechan had to change locations as club was having their meetings in the library. you moved to a classroom near the library.

monday’s session wasn’t a disaster. in fact, it was almost… normal.

he showed up—five minutes late, but that was practically on time for him. he didn’t ignore the notes you laid out, didn’t spend the whole time spinning his rings or making dumb comments. he even answered a few questions correctly, which honestly shocked you.

“so you do pay attention sometimes,” you muttered when he got one right.

“wow, sunshine.” he grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “say that again. maybe i’ll start believing you actually like having me around.”

you scoffed, underlining something in your notebook just to avoid looking at him. “don’t push it.”

he chuckled but didn’t push. and for the first time since this whole tutoring arrangement started, things actually felt… okay. he was still distracting, still teasing you every chance he got, still doing that infuriating thing where he leaned back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. but at least he was trying.

and that was enough.

for now.

later that week, things changed.

session fifteen- friday the 25th

you were still in one of the school’s empty classrooms, finishing up some notes for yourself. it was already late when you heard the classroom door creak open.

too late for a tutoring session. too late for him to be here at all.

you looked up, expecting a janitor, maybe a teacher. instead, you saw him.

“oh my god.” your breath caught when you finally glanced up. “what happened to you?”

he looked…rough. a split lip, a bruise already blooming on his cheekbone, dried blood crusted near his eyebrow. his knuckles were bruising and stained with a little blood, like he’d been swinging at something—or someone.

“nothin’.” his voice was quieter than usual, the usual cockiness dulled by exhaustion. “just a bad night.”

“bad night? you look like you got your ass kicked.” you frowned, already standing. “who—why—”

“doesn’t matter.” he waved a hand, like he wanted to brush it off, but even that small movement made him wince.

you sighed, shaking your head as you grabbed your bag. “stay here.”

he didn’t argue as you left, and when you came back a few minutes later, first aid kit in hand, he still hadn’t moved. just sat there, fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh, like he was waiting for the fight to start back up again.

but when you stood in front of him, tilting his face up slightly so you could dab at the cut on his lip, he stilled.

“you don’t have to do this,” he murmured.

“you don’t have to get into fights.”

he huffed a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it.

when you knelt beside him and took his hand in yours, he barely reacted, letting you clean the dried blood from his knuckles. his skin was warm under your touch, but you ignored that. just like you ignored the way his eyes were fixed on you, dark and unreadable.

for a while, there was only silence. the soft press of gauze against his skin, the quiet scrape of your nails as you brushed away the dried blood. and through it all, he just watched you.

like he didn’t understand why you cared.

“you’re not supposed to fix me, sunshine,” he said eventually, voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “just tutor me.”

you didn’t look at his eyes. “maybe i just don’t want to watch you fall apart.”

his breath hitched slightly. and maybe you imagined it, but for the first time, the fight in his eyes flickered. just for a second.

he didn’t say anything else. but something shifted in that moment.

because later, when he went home, he touched the bandage you had carefully pressed onto his skin, fingers lingering there longer than necessary.

and even though he would never admit it. maybe not even to himself, that was the moment he started falling for you.

—

after that night, things feel different. you tell yourself they’re not, that nothing’s changed, that you’re just imagining the way your chest tightens when you catch him looking at you in the middle of a study session. but it’s there, lingering in the spaces between words, in the silence that lasts too long, in the way his teasing remarks don’t land the same way anymore.

the next session, he actually tries.

not in an obvious way—he’s still late, still sighs dramatically when you hand him a practice problem, still taps his pen against the table like he’s counting down the minutes until he can leave. but when you ask him a question, he answers. when he gets something wrong, he listens when you explain instead of brushing it off.

session sixteen - monday the 28th

“so, what, you’re suddenly serious about passing?” you ask, watching as he leans forward, elbows braced against the table.

he tilts his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “maybe i just like seeing you all impressed when i get something right.”

you roll your eyes. “trust me, you’d have to try way harder for that to happen.”

but you don’t mean it. because when he mutters the right answer under his breath, brow furrowed like he’s actually thinking, something twists in your stomach. you shove the feeling down before it can take root.

—

then, he starts showing up.

not just to your tutoring sessions—those are still scheduled, still predictable, still something you can control—but to other places. places he shouldn’t be.

like when you’re sitting outside between classes, notebook open in your lap, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the pavement.

“wow,” his voice cuts through the quiet, lazy and amused. “you really do study all the time, huh?”

you glance up, frowning as he drops into the seat across from you. “what are you doing here?”

he shrugs, peeling the label off his drink. “nowhere else to be.”

he stays. doesn’t do much—just picks at his rings, tosses casual comments your way, complains about the weather. at first, it’s just once. then it happens again. and again.

“you know you don’t have to sit here, right?” you say one day, not looking up from your laptop.

“i know.”

he doesn’t leave. and you don’t tell him to. maybe that’s your first mistake.

—

the evening air is crisp, biting at your skin as you step out of the library. you tug your jacket tighter around yourself, putting your earbuds in as you start down the quiet path leading off campus. most of the streetlights flicker on as it got darker.

you don’t hear him at first.

not until he falls into step beside you, hands stuffed into his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched.

“hey, sunshine.”

you nearly trip, ripping an earbud out as you whip your head to the side. “what the—why are you here?”

he doesn’t look at you, just keeps walking like this is the most natural thing in the world. “walking.” he motions in front of him.

“walking where?” you press, your suspicion growing.

he exhales, tilting his head toward the sky as if debating whether to answer. finally, he shrugs. “just making sure you get home okay.”

you slow your steps. something about the way he says it, like it’s just a fact, like it’s obvious, throws you off balance.

“i don’t need a bodyguard,” you mutter.

“yeah, i know.”

“so why—”

“just shut up and keep walking.”

the words should annoy you. they do annoy you. but something in his casual but firm tone, like he’s already decided he’s doing this whether you like it or not, leaves no room for argument. so you walk, stealing glances at him every so often, watching the way he shifts his weight, the way his fingers flex like he’s holding back something he’ll never say out loud.

“this isn’t a habit now, is it?” you ask after a few minutes.

“depends.”

“on what?”

“on whether or not i feel like doing it again.”

you roll your eyes but don’t push.

when you finally reach your place, you stop at the fence, hesitating. you should say goodnight. you should say thanks, maybe. but before you can decide, he’s already a few steps away, hands still buried in his pockets, gaze fixed ahead.

“see you later, sunshine.”

he doesn’t look back. doesn’t wait for a response.

but for some reason, you watch him walk away anyway.

—

you should be asleep.

but you’re not.

instead, you’re lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the walk home in your head like a movie you can’t turn off. like the flickering streetlights, the cold air, the steady sound of footsteps beside you—his footsteps—are all burned into your mind.

you shift onto your side, pulling your blanket up to your chin. it’s stupid. he didn’t do anything, didn’t say anything that should be lingering like this. all he did was show up. all he did was walk.

but still.

“just making sure you get home okay.”

he’d said it like it was nothing. like it wasn’t a thing.

but it was. wasn’t it?

you sigh, rolling onto your back again. your phone sits on your nightstand, screen dark, no notifications. not that you expected any. he’s not the kind of guy to text. but still, some stupid part of you wonders if he’s thinking about it, too.

not about you. just—about anything.

maybe he’s already asleep, completely unbothered, already moved on. maybe it meant nothing to him.

but then again—

“depends.”

“on what?”

“on whether or not i feel like doing it again.”

you close your eyes, exhaling slowly.

you don’t know what’s worse. the fact that he might actually do it again.

or the fact that you kind of want him to.

—

session nineteen - monday april 4th

you check the time again.

ten minutes late.

with an annoyed sigh, you tap your pen against the open notebook in front of you, debating whether to give up and leave. it’s not like he hasn’t done this before. showing up whenever he feels like it, acting like he’s doing you a favor by even bothering. but this time, it’s grating more than usual. maybe because things have been different lately—less antagonistic, more… whatever this weird tension is that neither of you have acknowledged.

and then, just as you’re about to slap your notebook shut, a chair scrapes against the floor.

“took you long enough,” you mutter without looking up.

“miss me?”

the smirk is there—you can hear it in his voice even before you meet his gaze. he leans back in his chair, stretching out like he has all the time in the world. no apology, no excuse. just him, always testing your patience.

you roll your eyes and push his notebook toward him. “just open your book.”

the session starts off okay, at first. he’s actually trying—not a lot, but enough. he answers a few questions, gets some right, listens when you explain the ones he gets wrong. but there’s something off about him today.

he’s restless. more than usual.

his fingers tap against the table, his rings clicking against each other in a way that makes your nerves buzz. he sighs every time you correct him, leans back so far in his chair that you’re convinced he’s seconds away from tipping over. but most of all, he’s not looking at you.

not in the usual way, at least. he usually stares—lazy, smug, like he’s waiting for you to snap. but today, it’s like he’s avoiding your gaze altogether. like he’s somewhere else.

“what is wrong with you today?” the words slip out before you can stop them.

haechan raises an eyebrow, finally meeting your eyes. “me? nothing. maybe you’re just extra grumpy today.”

you glare. “maybe i wouldn’t be if you were actually focused.”

he clicks his tongue, shutting his notebook with a dull thud. “yeah? and what if i don’t feel like it?”

your patience snaps. “then why are you even here, haechan?”

silence.

his expression shifts—just barely, but enough for you to see it. the way his jaw tightens, the flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he looks away.

and then he speaks so quiet, almost to himself.

“good question.”

your breath catches. because suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re talking about tutoring anymore.

neither of you speak after that.

the rest of the session is stiff, words clipped and movements sharp. when it ends, he doesn’t throw a smug remark over his shoulder, doesn’t tease you like he usually does. he just stands, slings his bag over his shoulder, and walks out without looking back.

you stay sitting there long after he’s gone, staring at the empty chair next to you.

heart pounding for reasons you don’t want to think about.

—

session twenty - wednesday the 6th

wednesday’s session is quieter than usual. it’s like there’s a wall between the two of you—still the same awkwardness, but with more… space.

haechan is more focused than before, but there’s a distance in the way he engages with the material. no smart comments, no teasing, just a steady silence as he works through the problems. every time your fingers brush over his paper to point out a mistake, there’s a brief, electric pause. neither of you comment on it, but it lingers, like a promise neither of you are ready to make.

but by the end of it, he’s gone without a word. not a smile, not a look. just the door shutting quietly behind him.

—

session twenty one - friday the 8th

friday’s session is different.

when he walks in, there’s a heaviness about him, something off—his face is bruised again, his lip split like last time, hair slightly tousled, and there’s a subtle tremble in his step like he’s not sure whether to be here or not. his eyes avoid yours as he slides into the chair across from yours, too close to be casual but too distant to be comfortable.

the silence between you is charged from the start, but it’s not the playful tension you’re used to. it’s thick, raw, almost uncomfortable.

you can’t help but stare at the bruise blooming across his jaw, the scrape on his chin, and the other cuts scattered across his arms. the anger and adrenaline radiate off him in waves, but there’s something deeper underneath all of it—a tiredness.

you try not to let your voice crack, but the concern breaks through anyway. “what happened?”

haechan doesn’t meet your gaze. his eyes are dark, like he’s trying to bury something under all that nonchalance. “it’s nothing.”

you don’t believe him. obviously. not looking like that. “haechan, don’t lie.”

finally, he looks at you, and there’s something in his expression that makes you freeze—raw vulnerability laced with a bitterness you can’t quite place. “someone said something about you,” he says quietly. “something i didn’t like.”

you feel the weight of his words like a punch to the gut. “what do you mean?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, but there’s no hiding the unease creeping into your tone.

he’s quiet for a long moment, his fingers tapping restlessly against the table as he thinks about how to phrase it. then, he just blurts it out: “i fought over you.”

it takes you a second to process. “what?”

he looks at you, this time, eyes searching yours like he’s looking for something. “they were talking about you. bad stuff. i couldn’t just sit there. i—” his words falter, like he’s not sure why he’s even explaining this to you.

you don’t know what to say. your heart beats harder, faster. “so you just…?”

“i lost it.” he’s not ashamed, not exactly, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes you feel like he’s letting go of more than just the fight. “i couldn’t stand it. i had to do something.”

and that’s when it hits you—the depth of everything he’s been hiding behind those sharp smirks and sarcastic comments.

without thinking, your fingers move—just a soft brush against his darkening knuckles, like it’s the only thing you can do to make sense of all this. you feel the heat of his skin underneath your fingertips, and the contact burns, even though it’s so small.

haechan’s breath catches. there’s a moment of complete silence, and then he slowly, so slowly, moves his fingers that were under yours.

you hold your breath, fingers trembling just a little. and then, as if testing the waters, he slides his fingers up to rest his hand against yours. you found your hand opening up, as your palms touched slightly. his finger tips grazing your with a ghost-like touch. for a second, neither of you moves. there’s a fragile, delicate tension that seems to freeze the room in place.

and then, without saying a word, he lets his fingers gently curl around yours.

it’s slow, tentative, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. but when you don’t, when you let him, he doesn’t hesitate. his grip tightens just enough, not too much—just enough to say this matters.

your heart races, and your breath hitches, but you don’t pull away. you don’t want to.

you let your fingers slip into the spaces between his, moving carefully, slowly.

there’s no hurry. just the quiet sound of your breaths mingling with the subtle click of his rings as his fingers settle between yours.

his eyes drop to your hands, studying the way you fit together, the way your fingers slide against his, perfectly and effortlessly. it’s intimate in a way that makes everything around you disappear. there’s only the soft warmth of his hand in yours, the quiet thrum of something unspoken growing louder between you.

he leans forward slightly, his voice quiet, almost like a confession. “i fought because of you,” he says, the weight of his words settling between you two like a secret you didn’t expect.

you want to say something, want to ask why, but the words don’t come. your chest feels tight. why would he do that for you?

his thumb strokes the back of your hand, the motion slow and careful, and you feel the heat of his touch seep through you. “i couldn’t just let them say shit about you,” he murmurs, his voice raw. “no one talks about you like that and gets away with it.”

you finally meet his gaze, your chest tight with something you can’t name. he holds your hand gently, but there’s a possessiveness in his touch, something protective that you can’t quite ignore.

the air between you is thick, filled with the weight of everything unsaid. he doesn’t let go of your hand, doesn’t move away, and neither do you.

you’re not sure how long you sit there, fingers entwined, the world outside of this moment fading away. but somehow, it feels like everything has changed between you two in that quiet, intimate touch. Something that didn’t need to be spoken but felt.

neither of you moves, not yet. not until it’s time.

—

saturday -

saturday morning arrives with the lingering weight of haechan’s words from the previous session. “maybe we could grab a coffee or something. no tutoring… just…”

his voice still echoes in your mind as you get ready. you don’t know why it’s making you nervous. you’ve spent hours with him tutoring, in tight spaces, talking about everything under the sun, but this feels different. it’s not about grades or chemistry anymore. it’s about you and him—just two people.

when your parents asked where you were off to, you brushed them off with a simple. “studying at the café,”.

at 2 p.m., you arrive at the cafe a little early. your heart beats louder in your chest as you stand outside, looking at the door, unsure whether you should go in first or wait. but before you can make up your mind, haechan appears. he’s wearing a hoodie and jeans. his messy hair adds to the vibe—relaxed, but there’s an intensity in the way he walks towards you.

“hey,” he greets with that familiar teasing smile, but it’s less playful today, more reserved. he watches you for a beat, like he’s trying to gauge how you’re feeling.

“hey,” you respond, your voice steady but your insides twist with something unfamiliar.

the conversation starts easy, like a continuation of your tutoring sessions, but it quickly morphs into something more personal. you laugh at his jokes, and he cracks a few of his usual sarcastic comments. but this time, they don’t feel so cutting—they feel like an invitation, an effort to connect.

you tell him about your favorite subjects, and he talks about his struggle with science (which he completely tries to play off like he doesn’t care about). somehow, you both end up talking about your childhoods, your families, and some awkward high school moments. the more you talk, the more the layers fall away, and you realize this is more real than you expected. he really wasn’t some monster that everyone seemed to paint him as.

as you finish your drinks, there’s an uneasy silence between you two. haechan runs a hand through his hair, and you shift in your seat, unsure of what to do next. the energy between you both is charged now—unspoken words hang thick in the air, and it’s almost unbearable.

“well, sunshine,” he says, his voice softer than usual, “i guess I’ll see you on monday?”

you nod, too quickly, almost relieved to escape the pressure of the moment. “yeah, monday.”

you both stand, and as you turn to walk away, you feel his eyes on you. you can’t tell if it’s admiration or something else, but the way he watches you feels different now.

sunday -

sunday passes quietly, but the space between you and haechan feels wider, even though you just saw him the day before. you try not to think about the little moments—the way he looked at you, how close you both were, how much you wanted him to say more. but that’s the problem, isn’t it? you both left so much unsaid, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind.

he doesn’t text you at all. the silence is deafening. you tell yourself it’s probably a good thing; after all, you don’t need to overanalyze everything, right? but then again, why does it feel so heavy?

you end up spending the day at home, alone with your thoughts. the weekend was supposed to be simple, a break from the usual, but now you can’t shake the feeling that it’s more complicated than that. haechan has always been complicated, but now you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something, not sure whether to jump or step back.

session twenty two - monday the 11th

by the time monday rolls around, you’re feeling restless. there’s a shift in your mood. a nervous energy that you can’t shake off, and when you step into school, it feels like you’re waiting for something to happen. you can’t decide if it’s anticipation or dread, but either way, you’re drawn back to the tutoring session.

when haechan finally walks into the classroom, you can’t tell if he’s acting like everything is normal or if he’s pretending. he gives you a short wave, but it’s not his usual playful smile. it’s different now. there’s something more cautious in his movements.

you both settle into your usual rhythm—he’s late, of course, but he’s quieter today. you’re not sure if that’s because of the weekend or if it’s something else entirely.

the session goes well, mostly. it’s like before, in the sense that you both get through the work, but there’s an added tension. he looks at you a little longer than he usually does, his eyes scanning your face as if he’s trying to understand something. the usual teasing is absent today, replaced by a different energy—more subtle, more cautious.

by the end of the session, you can’t help but feel like you’re caught in this strange, unspoken limbo between what you both were and what you might be. you still don’t know where it’s going, but you’re both standing at the edge, unsure whether to jump or wait to see what the next step will be.

—

session twenty three - wednesday the 13th

it’s the final session before the break, and everything feels different. the air feels thicker, charged with something neither of you are saying but both know is there. you both sit at the desk, the tension palpable, but neither of you are focused on the notes in front of you. it’s like the classroom walls are closing in, and neither of you can breathe easily.

you keep glancing over at him, trying to stick to the lesson, but he’s just… there, too close, too present. the words he’s saying are just noise in the background as his eyes flicker over you every time you speak, his gaze heavy, simmering. you know it’s not just the subject anymore. something has shifted.

“you’re not listening,” you say, your voice sharper than you intend.

he looks at you, not surprised, but not unaffected either. “neither are you,” he replies, and there’s something in his voice that’s too calm. too knowing.

you press your lips together, trying to keep your composure. “well, you’re not even trying.”

he smirks, leaning back in his chair slightly. “again, neither are you.”

there’s a challenge in his voice, and it sets something off inside you. something snaps. you stand up more abrupt than you anticipate, trying to collect your thoughts but only feeling more overwhelmed by the space between you two. you feel like you’re suffocating under the weight of the tension, like there’s something about to break, and you don’t know if you want to stop it or let it happen.

you cross your arms, pacing around the small desk, trying to cool the heat you feel flooding your chest.

“why are you so difficult?” you murmur, more to yourself than him.

“because you make it easy,” he says, voice low, leaning forward, his eyes locked on you in a way that makes your knees weak.

he stands up slowly, the movement purposeful, and your heart skips a beat. the space between you is closing, and before you can make sense of what’s happening, he’s there, standing right in front of you.

his hand brushes against yours, and you feel it like a spark, his fingers just grazing yours before he holds your wrist lightly, tugging you closer to him. you can’t move, rooted in place by something deeper than just attraction.

and then he kisses you.

it’s a kiss that’s full of everything you’ve been holding back. the anger, the frustration, the need for something more that you don’t know how to name. it’s messy, urgent, like both of you are desperate to see how far you can go without letting go. your hands find their way to his chest, pushing against him as you kiss him back, just as hungry, just as eager.

you feel his grip on your wrist tighten, pulling you closer as his other hand slides to your waist. the kiss deepens, and the world around you disappears. it’s just you and him, the heat of his lips against yours, the press of his body against yours.

you can’t help but give in, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, your breath coming faster as the intensity builds.

and then, just as suddenly, it breaks.

you pull back, hands trembling, and you stare at him, your heart pounding against your ribs.

you feel guilty.

you glance away, trying to catch your breath, but all you can hear are the voices from the past—the warnings your parents gave you, the things they said about boys like him.

“boys like him are trouble.”

the words echo in your mind like a warning. trouble.

you can’t ignore it. your heart sinks, and a cold wave of uncertainty washes over you. this is trouble.

you step back, trying to create some distance, trying to make sense of it all. “this isn’t… supposed to happen.”

he stays silent for a beat, his expression unreadable. then, quietly, he says, “i don’t want to stop.”

you shake your head, backing away, but you can’t seem to find the words. everything’s spinning in your head. he’s trouble, but you want him.

“haechan,” you whisper, feeling a rush of heat rise to your cheeks, “i—this was a mistake.”

he doesn’t say anything, just watches you as you grab your things, your heart heavy in your chest.

you don’t know how to fix this, don’t know how to untangle the mess you’ve just made of your feelings. you only know that walking away is the only thing you can do right now, even if every step you take feels like it’s pulling you away from him and yet dragging you closer at the same time.

you leave without another word, but as you walk down the hall, your mind is still stuck on him.

this isn’t what i signed up for… but then again, maybe it was.

—

the following night is unusually still, and you lie awake, mind tangled in the events of the past week. your thoughts keep drifting back to him—the kiss, the way he pulled away, and the uncertainty that followed. you toss and turn, trying to shake off the feeling, but it’s like something’s pulling you in. just as you start to think you’re finally starting to calm down, a soft knock at your window breaks through the silence.

your heart jumps in your chest, and for a second, you freeze. there’s no mistaking who it is. haechan.

you rush to the window, heart racing, but you pause for a brief moment to glance at your door—your parents are just down the hall. still, curiosity outweighs caution, and you push the blinds up quietly, barely believing your eyes.

there he is, his silhouette framed against the dim streetlights outside, standing on the roof near your window with that familiar, confident smirk that sends a strange rush through you.

“how’d you get up here?” you whisper after opening the window, your voice shaky, heart still pounding in your ears.

he shrugs as though it’s the most normal thing in the world, but you can’t ignore the way his arm strains as he grips the window sill, his veins flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt. your eyes flicker down to his arms, and for a moment, you forget to breathe, your gaze catching on the way the muscles ripple as he pulls himself up with a small thud.

you wince, then immediately shush him, raising a finger to your lips in an exaggerated, playful gesture. “my parents are gonna hear you!”

he flashes that trademark grin, but it’s softer this time—almost sheepish, like he wasn’t expecting this much resistance. “sorry,” he whispers, giving you a quick, apologetic wink before pulling himself through the window with a bit more flair than necessary. you can feel the heat radiating off him as he steps inside, and for a brief second, you both just stand there in the quiet of the room.

there’s an awkward pause as he dusts himself off, glancing around your room as if trying to find a reason for being here, but then his eyes land on you. his expression softens just a little, that familiar cockiness fading away for a second.

“didn’t mean to sneak up on you, but… figured i’d take a risk. can’t sleep, you know?”

you laugh softly, a little nervously, though you can’t quite explain why. there’s something about him being here, standing in your room in the dead of night, that’s thrilling in a way you’re not ready to admit. “did you…climb the tree?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“yeah,” he grins, his tone light, almost teasing. “it’s not that hard. plus, i thought i’d get your attention somehow.” he shrugs as if this is a totally reasonable thing to do. but when his eyes meet yours, there’s something behind them. something vulnerable, something unspoken.

“you’re crazy,” you mutter, but there’s no malice behind it. instead, your voice is soft, fond. you step back instinctively as he moves toward you, not sure if you want to step away or let him close the gap. you should be more concerned that he was here. if your parents found out, you have no idea what kind of reaction they’d have.

he looks at you for a moment, his gaze flickering over your face like he’s studying every detail. you can feel the tension building between the two of you, and even though you know you should step back again, you stay rooted to the spot. there’s a pull between you that neither of you can ignore.

“i just… couldn’t stop thinking about everything. about you,” he admits, the words coming out quieter than usual. he doesn’t sound like the usual confident haechan; there’s a vulnerability in his voice now, something raw that you’ve never heard before.

you blink, caught off guard. the air feels thick with unspoken words, and for a second, you’re at a loss for how to respond. your heart hammers in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you move a little closer to him.

his eyes widen slightly when you step forward, but he doesn’t move away. instead, he reaches for your hand slowly, almost hesitantly. his fingers brush over yours, the lightest touch that sends a jolt through you. it’s so quiet, so soft, but it feels like the whole world has paused. you glance down at his hand—his fingers are rough, the veins on his arms standing out against his skin.

you look back up at him, meeting his eyes, and he squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a slow, almost intimate motion. there’s a quiet understanding between the two of you, a silent acknowledgment of everything that’s been building between you.

“you’re here,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, but it feels like it carries the weight of everything you haven’t been able to say.

he gives a small, lopsided grin, his thumb still moving over your hand. “yeah. i guess i am.”

and then, without another word, he leans in, and this time, when your lips meet, it’s not chaotic. it’s slow, deliberate, like the two of you are finally giving in to something you’ve been avoiding. his hand slides up to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as if he’s memorizing the feel of you.

the kiss is soft at first, tentative, but it deepens as the moments stretch on, his other hand moving to gently to him by your back, pulling you closer. everything else fades away. the hesitation, the uncertainty and you lose yourself in it.

when you finally pull back, both of you are breathing a little heavier, the space between you still charged with the emotions neither of you knew how to express. you glance at the door again, your mind briefly flashing to the consequences of this. but for a moment, you don’t care.

“this is… insane,” you whisper, your voice trembling just slightly.

he leans his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “i know. but i don’t think i can stay away.”

for a moment, you both just stand there, breathless, sharing the same quiet understanding. you’ve crossed a line you never thought you would, and for the first time, you’re not sure what comes next. but you know this: you can’t go back. not now.

—

after that night, everything changes. things between you and haechan aren’t just charged—they’re different. there’s no more pretending that what happened didn’t mean something.

friday the 15th

the next day at school, he’s there—leaning against his locker like usual, surrounded by his close group of friends, but his eyes are on you the second you walk in. it’s not just a glance this time. it’s intentional, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll look at him, if you’ll acknowledge what happened between you the night before.

your heart races, but you force yourself to act normal. your parents had been none the wiser about his late-night visit, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still thinking about it. thinking about him. you take a deep breath and head toward your first class, but just as you pass him, his fingers catch your wrist. it’s subtle, barely a touch, but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“you’re not gonna ignore me now, are you?” his voice is low, teasing, but there’s something real underneath it.

“not here,” you murmur, pulling your hand away, your face heating up as you disappear into the crowd.

you glance around—people are watching. of course they are. it was unusual for a student like and a student like him to interact. let alone lee haechan and you.

but you can feel his gaze on you for the rest of the day.

after school -

he catches up to you before you can leave, cutting you off near the entrance. “so, sunshine, are we gonna talk about last night? or are you just gonna pretend i didn’t climb a damn tree for you?”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “you could’ve fallen.”

“but i didn’t,” he grins, stepping closer, dropping his voice so only you can hear. “what, you worried about me?”

you are, but you won’t admit that. you sigh. “i don’t know what you expect me to say.”

his smirk fades just slightly, a flicker of something more serious in his eyes. “say it wasn’t nothing.”

you hesitate, because you can’t say that. you won’t lie. but you also don’t know what this is.

before you can respond, a voice calls your name from behind. one of your classmates. someone who shouldn’t be seeing you with him like this.

“i have to go,” you say quickly, stepping away.

he doesn’t stop you, but as you walk away, you hear him call out, just loud enough for you to hear—

“i’ll see you later, sunshine.”

and you know you will.

saturday night -

you get a text from him.

haechan: come outside

your heart leaps into your throat. you glance at your bedroom door, listening carefully. your parents are still awake. sneaking out has never been something you’ve even considered before, but now…

your fingers hover over your phone.

you: are you insane?

haechan: probably. but i wanna see you.

you hesitate. but only for a second.

and then, for the first time, you take the risk.

—

the door clicks softly behind you as you step onto the porch, the night air brushing cool against your skin. you shiver slightly, but you ignore it, your pulse already picking up when you spot haechan waiting just beyond the porch light’s glow, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie.

he steps forward as you approach, but then—he stops.

his eyes flicker down, lingering.

you suddenly realize what you’re wearing—silk shorts, the kind with delicate lace at the hem, barely brushing mid-thigh. paired with a thin, loose sweater, it’s nothing that scandalous, but under his gaze, you feel the heat creeping up your neck.

his tongue swipes over his bottom lip before he exhales, tilting his head. “damn, sunshine. if i knew sneaking into your thoughts at night got me this kind of welcome, i would’ve done it sooner.”

you cross your arms, giving him an unimpressed look despite the warmth spreading in your chest. “i wasn’t exactly expecting company.”

he hums, taking another step closer. “yeah? so you just wear this to bed every night?” his voice dips lower, teasing, but there’s something else there.

you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the way your stomach tightens. “are you done staring?”

his smirk deepens. “not even close.”

“why are you even here?” you sigh, trying to steer the conversation before you combust under his gaze.

his expression shifts slightly, something more serious flickering beneath the teasing. “couldn’t sleep.” he shrugs, eyes still on you but softer now. “kept thinking about you.”

your breath hitches. you weren’t expecting that.

you hesitate, shifting on your feet. “and what exactly were you thinking about?”

he doesn’t hesitate. “that kiss. both of them.”

you inhale sharply, your heart picking up speed.

he watches you carefully, stepping just close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. “tell me i’m the only one who’s been losing sleep over it,” he murmurs. “tell me you don’t think about it too.”

you should brush it off. should laugh, roll your eyes, push him away like you always do.

but you don’t.

“…maybe a little.”

his lips quirk, but it’s not his usual cocky smirk—it’s softer. more real.

“thought so.”

before you can even react, his fingers find yours, brushing over your knuckles before lacing them together. it’s slow, deliberate—like he’s testing the waters, waiting for you to pull away.

you don’t.

he exhales a quiet laugh. “you’re in trouble, sunshine.”

you swallow. “why?”

his thumb traces over the back of your hand, and when he looks at you, there’s something almost fond in his eyes.

“’cause now that i’ve got you like this,” he murmurs, “i don’t think i can let go.”

—

you should go back inside. your parents are asleep just down the hall, and this is the kind of thing they warned you about. sneaking out into the night with a boy like him, hand in hand, heart racing in ways it shouldn’t.

but you don’t let go.

“come on,” he says, his grip tightening just slightly, like he’s afraid you might change your mind. “let’s go somewhere.”

“what? where?” you ask, but you’re already following him down the steps, his hand warm against yours.

he smirks, eyes glinting in the dim light. “trust me.”

and for some reason, you do.

—

the night air is crisp, cool against your skin as the two of you walk through the quiet streets. neither of you say much at first, just the soft scuff of your footsteps on the pavement, the occasional flickering of a streetlight overhead. it’s reckless, it’s stupid, but for some reason, it feels right.

he leads you toward a small park a few blocks away, one you haven’t been to in years. it looks different at night—emptier, quieter, like a hidden world that only the two of you know about.

“seriously?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “you dragged me out of bed for a playground?”

haechan grins, tugging you toward the swings. “come on, sunshine. live a little.”

you huff, but you sit anyway, the chains creaking slightly as you lean back. he takes the swing next to yours, feet planted on the ground, arms draped lazily over the chains.

for a moment, neither of you speak. the city hums softly in the distance, a car passing now and then, but here, in this little forgotten space, it feels like you’re in your own world.

then he breaks the silence.

“so,” he says, voice quieter now. “are you gonna tell me why you kissed me back?”

your fingers tighten around the swing’s chains.

you should lie. should brush it off, make a joke, something.

but instead, you glance at him, finding him already watching you, his usual smirk nowhere in sight.

“…i don’t know,” you admit.

he exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. “wrong answer, sunshine.”

you frown. “oh? and what’s the right one?”

he leans in slightly, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him even in the cool night air. his voice drops, teasing but serious all at once.

“that you can’t get me out of your head, either.”

your breath catches.

you could argue. you could deny it. but instead, you just look at him, your heart pounding, and realize—maybe you don’t want to.

—

the morning after sneaking out with haechan, everything feels different.

your room is the same, the sun filtering through your curtains, casting warm streaks of light across your sheets. your parents are in the kitchen, the smell of coffee and toast drifting down the hall like any other saturday morning. nothing has changed.

except it has.

because your mind won’t stop replaying the night before. his voice, his hands, the way he looked at you under the dim glow of the streetlights, with that same dark eyeliner you’ve grown to like. the way he leaned in just close enough that you thought he might kiss you again but never did. the way your heart had pounded the entire walk back home, fingers still tingling from where he had held them, warm and steady.

and the worst part?

you didn’t want it to end.

you go through the day pretending everything is normal.

you do your chores, respond to messages, attempt to start your homework—but it all feels distant, like your mind is somewhere else entirely. every time your phone lights up, you half expect it to be him. but it never is.

and then, just when you think you might be going crazy, your mom’s voice cuts through the quiet.

“you’ve been distracted all morning.”

you blink, looking up from your untouched notebook at the kitchen table. your parents are sitting across from you, your dad flipping through the newspaper, your mom watching you with knowing eyes.

“i’m fine,” you say quickly, too quickly.

she hums, not convinced. “it’s not about that boy, is it?”

your heart stops. “what?”

your dad turns a page in the newspaper, not looking up. “the one you’ve been tutoring,” he says simply. “you know, the one we told you to be careful around.”

your pulse stutters. “it’s—no, of course not.”

your mom raises an eyebrow. “really? because ever since those sessions started, you’ve been acting a little… different.”

“and now you’re all spaced out,” your dad adds, still not looking up. “not getting a crush on him, are you?”

you scoff, forcing out a laugh that sounds almost believable. “as if.”

your mom exhales, satisfied for now. “good. boys like that, they’re nothing but trouble.”

your chest tightens. they don’t know anything. “so you’ve told me.” you sigh.

but instead of arguing, you just nod, mumbling something about needing to study before quickly escaping back to your room.

and the moment the door clicks shut behind you, your phone finally buzzes.

haechan: you up, sunshine?

you hesitate for half a second, holding back the small tug at your lips before responding.

you: yeah, why?

his reply comes instantly.

haechan: meet me? same spot.

your heart skips. you don’t even hesitate.

you: be there in 10.

—

the air feels heavier, like the wind is carrying something unspoken between you. you spot him before he sees you—leaning against the swing set, hoodie pulled over his head, one hand twisting a silver ring around his finger. he looks lost in thought, gaze fixed on the ground until he hears your footsteps.

his head lifts, and when he sees you, his lips twitch into a smirk—lazy, like he knew you’d come.

“thought maybe you wouldn’t show,” he says, rocking back on his heels.

you cross your arms, standing a few steps away. “why?”

he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “figured maybe you started listening to your parents.”

you raise a brow. “you’re eavesdropping now?”

nah,” he says easily, stepping closer. “just know how people see me.”

you don’t respond. instead, you take a step closer, letting the silence settle between you.

“so,” you say after a beat, “why’d you call me out here?”

he exhales, tilting his head as he watches you. “needed to see you.”

the words come so easily, like he didn’t even have to think about them. like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your pulse stutters, but you keep your expression even. “and now that you have?”

he grins, stepping closer until there’s barely any space between you. “now?” his voice drops lower, eyes flickering over your face. “now i wanna know why you came.”

you swallow. why did you?

you should have ignored his message, should have listened to every warning sign telling you to stay away.

but standing here, heart pounding, heat rolling off him in waves—

you realize you don’t regret a damn thing.

“i wanted to see you too.” you say lowly.

—

after that night, something shifts.

it starts slow—an unspoken understanding, a magnetic pull that neither of you acknowledge but never fight.

one night turns into another. and then another.

sometimes, he climbs through your window just to talk, arms crossed against your windowsill, voice hushed as he tells you about his day. other times, he doesn’t talk at all, just pulls you close and kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.

and maybe you should be afraid too—afraid of how easy it is to let this happen, to want more. but you’re not.

—

you find yourself around him more at school, too.

it’s not obvious, not at first—just stolen glances across the hallway, his shoulder brushing yours when he passes by, the flicker of a smirk when he catches you looking.

but then he starts waiting for you after class, hands stuffed in his pockets, always acting like he just happened to be there. like it wasn’t intentional.

and you let him.

because somehow, being near him feels natural now. even with the tutoring sessions over. he seemed to be doing pretty well in science now anyway.

—

the nights are different. the nights are yours.

sneaking out is reckless, dangerous, a risk you wouldn’t have taken before. but now? now it’s routine.

sometimes, you meet at the park, swinging lazily under the glow of the streetlights. sometimes, he drags you into the city, leading you through neon-lit streets, hands brushing in the dark.

and sometimes—most nights, actually—he’s at your window.

it always starts the same way: a faint rustling, the quiet scrape of sneakers against bark, and then, moments later, his head poking through the window frame with a grin.

“you’ve got to stop leaving this unlocked, sunshine,” he teases, even though you both know you won’t.

and every time, without fail, you roll your eyes, but you don’t stop him when he pulls himself inside, muscles flexing, veins prominent under his skin as he steadies himself.

the first few times, you told yourself this was temporary—just a phase, just him being him.

but then there’s a night where he doesn’t just talk, doesn’t just steal a few kisses before leaving.

there’s a night where he lingers.

where his hands settle on your waist, where he backs you up against your wall, where the air between you is thick with something unspoken, something dangerous.

where he kisses you deeper, hands tracing slow patterns against your skin, like he’s memorizing you.

where you let him.

because at some point, you stopped trying to fight this. stopped trying to pretend you didn’t want it.

because at some point, you stopped caring that he was the kind of boy your parents warned you about.

—

it was one of the nights he had skipped into your room, you greeted him with a smile and things went from there.

his breath is warm against your lips, hands gripping your waist as he backs you into the wall.

he’s been teasing all night—touching you just enough to leave you wanting more, murmuring things in that low, rough voice that made your pulse stutter. but now? now there’s no space left between you, and neither of you are trying to fight it.

his fingers press into your sides, slow and steady, like he’s testing how much you’ll let him take. his lips brush yours once, twice—just enough to make you chase him before he finally kisses you like he means it.

and you let yourself fall into it.

your hands slide into his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands, tugging just enough to draw a quiet groan from his throat. his body presses closer, chest rising and falling against yours, the heat between you dizzying.

“you’re gonna drive me crazy,” he murmurs against your lips, voice thick, almost strained.

you don’t even get the chance to answer before he kisses you again, harder this time, like he’s losing whatever little patience he had left.

his hands slip under your shirt, fingertips skimming your skin, sending shivers up your spine. and you should stop this, should put some distance between you before it’s too late—

but then his hands tighten on your hips, and you feel the way his heart is racing just as fast as yours, and god—

you don’t want to stop.

“tell me to leave,” he murmurs, lips trailing along your jaw, down to the hollow of your throat.

you swallow hard, tilting your head back as he presses closer, as his hands continue their slow exploration.

“tell me you don’t want this,” he says again, but there’s no teasing in his voice this time—just something raw, something vulnerable, something almost pleading.

and you should. you should.

instead, your grip tightens in his hair, and you whisper back, “i don’t want you to.”

his response is immediate—his hands slide lower, pulling you flush against him, and he groans against your lips like he’s just lost whatever last shred of control he had.

“fuck,” he exhales, forehead resting against yours. “you’re really gonna be the end of me, sunshine.”

but he doesn’t stop.

and neither do you.

—

when you finally pull your mouth from his, his lips are swollen, breath uneven as he leans into you, hands still firm on your waist like he can’t bring himself to let go just yet.

you don’t want him to.

but somewhere between the heat of his touch and the way his body presses against yours, reality creeps back in.

your parents are just down the hall.

he shouldn’t even be here.

“we should stop,” you murmur, though the words barely make it out, still breathless from the way he just kissed you.

he exhales sharply, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before he tilts his head back to look at you. his pupils are blown wide, jaw tight like he’s forcing himself to pull back.

“yeah,” he mutters, voice rough. “yeah, we should.”

but neither of you move.

his thumb brushes against your side, like he’s memorizing the feel of you.

“sunshine,” he says softly, like a warning.

you know you have to let him go.

but when he leans in one last time, mouth hovering just over yours, you don’t stop him.

“just one more?” he murmurs, but it’s a lie.

one more turns into two, then three, then a lingering kiss pressed to the corner of your lips, like he’s reluctant to leave you at all.

but eventually, he does.

he steps back first, running a hand through his hair like he’s trying to ground himself, like he’s trying to pull himself together before he does something you’ll both regret.

“guess i should go before i completely fuck this up, huh?” he says, forcing a smirk, but you see the hesitation in his eyes.

you nod, but you don’t trust yourself to say anything.

he moves toward the window, but just before climbing out, he looks back, gaze flickering over you—your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your fingers are still trembling just slightly.

and then, instead of saying goodbye, he just grins.

“try not to miss me too much,” he teases, but there’s something softer beneath the words. something real.

and with that, he’s gone, disappearing into the night like he was never there at all.

except—he was.

you press your fingers against your lips, as if you can still feel him there, and then, you smile.

it’s embarrassing, the way your stomach flutters, the way your cheeks heat up, the way you actually giggle like some lovesick schoolgirl.

you should not be this giddy over a boy like him.

but you are.

and you couldn’t find it in you to care anymore.

—

it was another saturday night, around 12am, your parents long gone to bed.

his hands are warm against your skin, fingers teasing under the hem of your shirt as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer.

you’re not even thinking anymore—just moving, just feeling. stumbling over your own feet as he walks you back, laughing quietly when you almost trip over a pile of books.

“shh,” you whisper, barely suppressing a giggle.

he grins against your lips. “that was you.”

“doesn’t matter,” you breathe, fingers curling into his shirt, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath the fabric. “just be quiet.”

he hums in amusement, hands sliding up your sides, his touch slow, deliberate, testing. “you always tell me what to do, sunshine?”

“someone has to.”

“mm,” he leans in, lips brushing your jaw, hands slipping beneath your shirt, pushing the fabric up just slightly—waiting for permission.

you exhale, whispering a word of approval.

he doesn’t hesitate. he tugs your shirt up, just enough to expose more of your skin—

knock.

the door swings open.

“what are you doing—?”

you freeze.

haechan freezes.

your mom stands in the doorway, eyes locking onto the scene in front of her—haechan’s hands still on you, his hoodie discarded on the floor, your shirt lifted just enough to make it painfully obvious what was happening.

for a second, no one moves.

no one breathes.

haechan is the first to react, stepping back so fast he almost knocks over your chair. he runs a hand through his hair, like he’s trying to play it cool, like there’s any coming back from this.

you don’t dare turn around.

your heart pounds in your chest, face burning hotter than ever before. this time not with the same heat.

your mom inhales sharply, voice eerily calm.

“downstairs. now.”

the finality in her tone sends a chill down your spine.

haechan glances at you, expression unreadable, but you can’t look at him.

because this time, you’re really in trouble.

—

▸ j.note ; finally releasing this lmao it’s been in the sm basement for quite some time now

2K notes · View notes

devil-in-hiding · 10 months ago

Text

John Price wouldn’t consider himself a possessive man. Never felt the need to keep a tight leash on former lovers, more so he would call himself protective, obviously.

However if you were to ask his men, which he advises you to not give those muppets the time of day, they would tell you he is possessive over what he deems as his.

Which includes you. You are the most constant thing in his life besides his duties and the team. You keep his head straight, at his side with a glass and a cigar, ushering him over to collapse onto his office’s couch on nights he feels as though if he types one more word his head might actually explode.

“I need to-“

“I will finish typing up this report, YOU will relax. You have bags under your eyes.” Never taking no for an answer, and he always gives in. It gives him a chance to admire you, the comfortable silence the two of you sit in whilst you type away, muttering to yourself as you go over his notes.

It’s one of the little things he adores about you, always seeming to find you having a conversation with yourself as you tend to whatever task he had asked of you, or, when you indulge them, whatever Soap and Gaz begged you to do for them before Price found out.

And that’s where it starts. If he finds you working on something he assigned to those idiots, he does not expect to find HIS pretty girl doing it. He has made it clear to you, multiple times, that you don’t have to do it just because they sweet talked you into it. Oh and help any young solider that tries to treat you as a glorified errand girl. One young man made the mistake of barking an order at you, the water was running low and he had seen you talking to Ghost, and you just about jumped out of your skin when the guy all but yanked you away, missing the way Ghost stiffens (he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, ever, but he also knows Price is watching, always.)

“You deaf or somethin’ you daft girl? I told you we needed-“

“Let go of her. Now.” Price’s growl has both of you spinning around, and he glares down at the recruit, who cowers.

“I was just asking her-“

“She is not a bloody errand girl. Now, I said let go of her.” His voice drops, and the recruit drops your wrist as though you had burnt him. “Captain Price-“

“A hundred laps. Get to it before I up to one fifty.” He barks, and the young man scurries away, eyes wide and Ghost watches the way John gently lifts your wrist, inspecting it.

“He didn’t hurt you now did he pretty? Bloody fuckin’ muppet, should make him scrub the toilets.” He mutters, tracing his finger over a vein.

“I’m okay John, really. I think you scared him enough as it is.” You smile, falling into step behind him as he strides towards his office. “Let’s get you away from these idiots.”

“Yes sir.”

#captain john price #john price cod #john price x reader #call of duty #cod x reader

2K notes · View notes

ackl3z · 2 months ago

Text

DEAN W.

pairing: dean winchester x reader

content: smut, porn without plot, teasing, fingering, head (f recieving), soft dom dean, no use of y/n, car sex, use of "good girl", hair pulling... like js a lil, established relationship, fem!reader, one shot, not proof read

word count: 1.1k

authors note: hi hi! this is literally the first smut ive ever wrote, so like please be nice i tried ok. constructive criticism is appreciated!!! enjoy 🩶

you were laying down in the back of the impala while dean and sam read over some old news articles about the next demon their dad had assigned them to hunt. it was late, you were exhausted from todays hunt, it took all night after all and you just wanted to get back to the motel and get to sleep. "you alright sweetheart?" dean asks, looking into the backseat where your eyes were fluttering shut, his brown leather jacket draped over your shoulders. your eyes snapped open when you heard dean's voice, nodding and mumbling an almost incoherent, "yeah, jus' tired..." dean smiles, chuckling softly at your sleepy murmurs. "sam, go and get us a coffee would ya'?" dean says, not really as a question, more as a statement, he knew that you would all be up for hours longer, and he could see that you needed energy to fight off yet another creature. sam sighs, always being the one sent to collect stuff for them, but still complies, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind him, walking to the nearest store.

dean turns around again, his eyes giving your body a once over, then locking his eyes on your lips, which you immediately notice, giggling softly. "you're real tired, huh baby?" he teases, in which you just nod in response to. dean climbs over the center console, rolling on top of you in the backseat to pepper your face with kisses before pulling you into a passionate, yet gentle kiss. his calloused hands travel down your body, down your waist, and finally settling with one hand on your inner thigh and the other holding himself up above you, his chain dangling in your face. you reciprocate the passion of the kiss, hands snaking up to his neck to pull him in deeper as he kisses you hungrily, his tongue sliding against your lips, silently asking for permission to be let in. you part your soft lips, his tongue dancing with yours inside your mouth as he moans softly into your mouth.

dean's hand makes his way further up your thigh as he starts trailing hot, open-mouth kisses down your jawline. you run your fingers thru his hair, the other hand sliding up his shirt and running over his abs and chest. he makes his way further down your body, sucking and gently biting your neck to leave big, purple bruises all over it, god he loved marking you up like that. you tug at his shirt as he kisses your neck so perfectly, which makes your back arch and lets a soft moan escape your lips. dean helps you to remove his shirt, and then immediately going to take off your tank top, beginning his kisses on your cleavage. you subconsciously start grinding against his clothed cock, which was already rock solid from just your moans alone. he pulls away from your neck to stare deeply into your eyes, his spare hand wraps around your back to unclip your pink lacy bra. "god, you're so beautiful..." he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your perfect tits, sucking on your nipple and using his hand to massage the other before giving equal attention to it aswell.

his kisses and bites travel further down your stomach, one hand working on your tits and the other unzipping your jeans and throwing them to the floor of the impala. you let out a desperate moan as he gets closer and closer to where you need him most, your pussy practically aching for him to touch you. he looks up at you, smirking as he hears your moans, "you need me, huh?" he teases, prompting you to let out a needy whimper along with a breathless, "fuck, yeah, please dean..." dean complies immediately, taking off your matching panties painfully slowly, just to prompt more desperate little whines, he loved seeing, hearing how badly you wanted him.

he starts softly kissing your inner thighs, getting closer and closer to your clit with every kiss. "god dean pleasee..." you beg him, soaking for his fingers, his tongue, anything. he laughs breathily into your thighs before finally starting to place soft kisses onto your clit, making you throw your head back and moan softly, both of your hands in dean's hair, pushing his head further into your pussy. he finally licks a stripe down your clit and towards your soaking wet entrance. sliding his tongue inside you. "fuck, fuck keep going." and he did, he sucks on your clit hungrily, his tongue swirling perfectly around your pussy, making you hold his hair tightly for support.

dean eats you out like a starving man, his tongue working perfectly from sucking on your clit to sliding his tongue in and out of your opening, licking up and down your pussy to gather all your slick. he spits on your clit before diving back in, eating you out better than anyone ever has before. you grind your hips against his face and he grips them with his hands, encouraging the movements as he sucks you harder and harder until you feel that familiar feeling in your stomach. "dean, i'm gonna-" you moan until he cuts you off. "good girl, you're gonna cum all over my face." he coos, using one of his hands to slide two thick fingers inside of you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly. you let out an incoherent string of moans, something along the lines of, "fuck, dean im gonna cum." you feel your orgasm approaching more and more every second as he continues pumping his fingers inside of you, leaving a ring of cum around the base of his fingers. "im gonna cum!" you scream one last time before you let it out all over his face and on his tongue. dean slows down, riding out your orgasm with gentle licks and slow fingering.

you breathe heavily as he pulls out, licking his fingers clean. dean crawls back up to your face, kissing your forehead softly and cradling your face in his hands. "you okay baby? you did so well for me, i love you so much." he whispers as he hands you the led zeppelin shirt that he had on before, putting it over your head just incase sam came back any moment now. and he did, your response was cut off by sam coming back with the coffee, not even wanting to look into the back seat. dean quickly gains his composure back, getting out of the backseat and back into the drivers seat. "what were you doing dean..?" he asks, almost as if he immediately regrets asking. dean scoffs, shutting the door behind him. "none of your buisness, sammy."

@sl4tforchris @fanofgunsnroses

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #supernatural #sam winchester #spnfandom #spn #dean x reader

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bluebutterflytattooed · 2 months ago

Text

GAME ON

Rugby!Sevika x College Roommate Reader

CHAPTER THREE

You had just finished applying your nighttime moisturizer when you heard a low, annoyed sigh from behind yourself.

You glanced over your shoulder to find Sevika lying on her bed, metal arm draped across her forehead, legs stretched out, her phone resting on her stomach. Her damp hair was messy from a post-practice shower, strands sticking to her forehead, and she was wearing nothing but a white ribbed wife beater and loose blue boxers.

The sight of her like that—relaxed, undone—was unfairly attractive.

You quickly turned back to your vanity, pretending to be deeply invested in you skincare routine. "What’s with the dramatic sighing?"

Sevika let out another long exhale, more over dramatic than the last. "I need help."

You frowned slightly, dabbing a bit of lip balm on. "With…?"

"Homework," Sevika admitted begrudgingly. "Stats. It’s kicking my ass."

You bit back a smile. You had never heard Sevika admit to struggling with anything. "And you want my help?"

Your roommate rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow. "Yeah, princess, I do."

Something about the way she said princess—all slow and teasing—made your stomach tighten in a way you did not appreciate.

You cleared your throat, shaking it off. "Alright," you said, standing up and stretching. "Let’s see what we’re working with."

Sevika scooted over, making space for you to sit on the edge of her bed. The dorm wasn’t huge, so the proximity was unavoidable. You could feel the warmth radiating off Sevika’s skin, smell the faint mix of clean laundry, soap, and something deeper—woodsy and warm.

You focused very, very hard on Sevika’s laptop screen. "Okay, show me where you’re stuck."

Sevika groaned, running a hand through her damp hair. "Literally all of it."

You bit back a laugh and pulled the laptop onto your lap, scanning the assignment. "It’s not that bad. You just have to break it down."

For the next twenty minutes, you walked Sevika through the basics, explaining things in a way that actually made sense. Sevika, to her credit, tried to keep up, even though she was clearly exhausted.

At some point, she flopped back onto her pillows, groaning dramatically. "I don’t know how you do this."

You smirked. "Because I actually pay attention in class?"

Sevika opened one eye. "Rude."

You shrugged. "Just saying."

She smirked, eyes flickering toward your desk, cluttered with makeup and textbooks. "You’re such a nerd, you know that?"

You scoffed. "I am not."

"You literally have color-coded notebooks and a planner with stickers," The woman next to you teased.

"And you have no organization at all," You shot back.

"That’s why I have you," Sevika said, voice low and easy.

Your breath hitched for a fraction of a second before you yourself to ignore whatever that meant.

Instead, you changed the subject. "What do you listen to when you study?"

Sevika stretched her arms above her head, considering. "Depends. If I actually need to focus, probably Frank Ocean... If I’m hyping myself up? Kendrick."

You raised an eyebrow. "You would listen to Kendrick."

She smirked. "What, you don’t?"

"I mean, I do sometimes," you admitted. "But I listen to a lot of Queen, Chappel Roan…"

Sevika tilted her head. "Okay, Queen is solid. I didn’t know you had taste."

You rolled your eyes. "Gee, thanks."

The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence. You leaned back slightly, stretching out your legs, your knee brushing against Sevika’s massive thigh. You pretended not to notice the slight touch.

Sevika’s gaze flickered toward your bed, and a slow smirk spread across her face. "You know," she said, "your bed looks like it belongs to a twelve-year-old."

You gasped. "Excuse me?"

She chuckled, nodding toward the pink fluffy comforter, the fairy lights strung up along the headboard, three extra fluffy blankets, the literal pile of stuffed animals.

"Do not come for my bed," you said, crossing your arms. "It’s cozy."

"It’s adorable. And childish," Sevika corrected, clearly amused.

You huffed. "Well, yours looks like a prison cot."

Your incredibly rude roommate shrugged. "What, you want me to throw a few teddy bears on it?"

You smirked. "I dare you."

Sevika chuckled, shaking her head. "Not happening, princess."

You rolled her eyes at her, standing up and stretching. "Your loss. Stuffed animals are great."

Sevika watched you for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes. But then she just smirked. "Night, Y/N. Thanks for the homework help."

You nodded, slipping into bed and turning off the light. "Night, Sevika."

——————————————————————

That night, you had a dream.

A very inappropriate, very vivid dream.

You were back in the dorm, but something was different. The air was heavy, charged. You was standing in front of Sevika, close enough to feel her warmth, close enough to notice the way her eyes darkened as she looked at you.

Sevika reached out, her metal fingers brushing against your bare shoulder, trailing down your arm in a way that sent a shiver through your entire body.

"You drive me insane, you know that?" Sevika’s voice was low, rough. Almost scary.

You swallowed hard. "I—"

Before you could finish the thought, Sevika’s hands were on your waist, tugging you forward. Your bodies pressed together, and you could feel every hard line of muscle against your own soft curves.

Sevika leaned in, lips ghosting over your neck, breath warm against your skin. "I bet you taste as sweet as you smell."

Your knees nearly buckled.

You felt Sevika’s mouth trail lower down your neck, hot and teasing, and—

You woke up gasping for air.

Your heart was pounding, your skin burning, your entire body wired with heat.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the dream to disapear, willing yourself to forget.

But it was no use.

Because now, when you looked over at Sevika’s sleeping figure—her broad shoulders, her steady breathing, the way her wife beater had ridden up just enough to reveal a sliver of brown skin—all you could think about was how it had felt to have Sevika’s hands on her.

Even if it had only been a dream.

————————————————————————-

The cafe was cozy, nestled between two bookstores on a quiet street just off campus. It smelled like espresso and sugar, warm with the hum of soft indie music playing overhead. Students occupied almost every table, laptops open, notebooks spread out, the occasional burst of laughter cutting through the steady murmur of conversation.

You sat across from Sevika in a booth near the window, your laptop open in front of you, a half-drunk strawberry iced matcha in your hand. You had thrown your hair up into an updo a few minutes ago, not thinking much of it—until she noticed Sevika watching you.

You weren’t sure why Sevika was watching you, but something about the weight of her gaze made your stomach tighten into knots and flood with butterflies.

You focused on your laptop, pretending that you weren’t suddenly very aware of Sevika’s eyes on you.

"So, where were we?" You asked, clearing your throat.

Your roommate blinked, as if she had been lost in thought. "Uh. Something about probability."

You bit back a smile. "Something about probability?"

Sevika smirked, sipping her incredibly boring espresso. "I don’t know, princess. That’s your job to figure out."

You rolled your eyes. "You’re impossible."

"And yet," Sevika said, leaning forward on her elbows, "you agreed to help me."

You sighed dramatically, clicking back onto the stats assignment. "Unfortunately."

Sevika chuckled but let you get back to explaining. For the next hour, you walked her through the material, breaking it down in a way that made sense, your fingers tapping against the table as you spoke.

Sevika wasn’t listening as much as she should have been.

She was too distracted by the way you absentmindedly chewed your bottom lip while you concentrated. The way your tank top hugged your figure perfectly, the soft golden glint of your necklaces, the smooth lines of your throat.

She definitely wasn’t thinking about the way you had lifted your arms to tie up your hair earlier, exposing the subtle curve of your waist, the sliver of tanned skin above the waistband of your jeans.

Nope. Not thinking about that at all.

You, on the other hand, were struggling for very different reasons.

Your mind had been a disaster all morning. Every time you looked at Sevika—really looked at her—flashes of last night’s dream hit you like a freight train. The heat of Sevika’s hands on your waist. The low rasp of her voice. The way her lips had felt, warm and teasing against your skin—

You clenched your jaw, pushing the thought far, far away. You were being ridiculous. It was just a dream.

Sevika caught you staring. "You good?"

Your face burned bright red. "Yes."

Sevika narrowed her eyes slightly, but let it go.

You wrapped up the study session about twenty minutes later, finishing off your drinks as students came and went around you two.

Sevika stretched her arms above her head, letting out a deep sigh. "Alright, nerd. I think my brain is officially fried."

You snorted. "I’m shocked you lasted this long."

Sevika smirked, leaning back into the booth. "You underestimate me."

You raised an eyebrow. "Do I?"

The woman chuckled but didn’t answer. Instead, she tilted her head slightly. "What are you up to now?"

You finished the last of your matcha. "Dance studio."

Sevika nodded. "Solo practice?"

"Yeah," you said, slipping your laptop into your tote bag. "I need to get in a few extra hours before I try out for the dance team next week."

Sevika hummed, considering. "Maybe I’ll stop by sometime. See if you’re actually good or if the school’s just desperate for dancers."

You gasped, scandalized. "I’ll have you know, I’m very good."

She smirked, amused by her indignation. "I guess I’ll just have to see for myself."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

———————————————————————

The dance studio was quiet, the kind of quiet that made you feel like you could breathe again.

You stood in front of the mirror, hands resting on your hips, your water bottle set on the floor nearby. The room smelled faintly of wood and sweat, of polished floors and effort. It was your second home, the place where you could let everything else fall away.

But today, your mind would not shut up.

You had spent the entire study session fighting off the most inconvenient thoughts about Sevika, and now, as you stretched, those thoughts slipped through the cracks again.

Sevika, lying in bed with damp hair. Sevika, watching you tie up your hair with that unreadable look in her eyes. Sevika, calling you princess in that low, teasing voice.

You groaned, pressing your palms against your face. "Get it together."

You turned on the music, hoping it would drown out everything else going on in your mind.

———————————————————————

You lounged on your bed, a box of Raising Cane’s resting on your lap as you dipped a crinkle fry into a little tub of Cane’s sauce. Jinx and Mel were sprawled out across your comforter, all three of you decked out in fluffy pajamas and matching face masks—Jinx’s was neon pink, Mel’s a smooth clay green, and yours a soft lavender shade.

"I swear to God, this is peak self-care," Jinx said through a mouthful of chicken tenders, licking sauce off her fingers.

"I’m telling you," Mel chimed in, stretching her legs out, "nothing beats a greasy fast food binge and skincare. Even though those things are not related, like, at all."

You hummed in agreement, taking a sip of your iced tea. It had been a long day, and a girls’ night was exactly what you needed—something normal, safe, and completely unrelated to…

You shoved the thought away before it could form.

Jinx, ever the instigator, tossed a napkin at your face. "So, Y/N," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "Speaking of things that nothing beats, and no one beats this certain persons hotness-"

You groaned. "Nope. Not doing this."

Mel giggled, adjusting her headband. "Come on! You’ve been weird all day."

"I have not."

Jinx rolled onto her stomach, kicking her feet. "Babe. You so have.

You made the very unfortunate mistake of hesitating. It was a fraction of a second, but it was enough for both of them to pounce.

"Oh my God," Jinx gasped, sitting up. "You’re hiding something."

Mel gasped. "Did something happen?!"

"No!" You squeaked, your face already heating up and betraying you and your lies.

Jinx grinned. "Y/N."

"No."

"Y/N."

"I hate you."

Mel grabbed your shoulders. "Spill."

You groaned, tossing your head back against your pillows. "It was just a stupid dream, okay?! That’s all."

Mel and Jinx screamed.

"Oh, this is wild," Jinx said, bouncing excitedly. "What kind of dream? Did you have a sex dream?"

"I hate you both."

"Was it about—" Mel gasped dramatically. "Sevika?"

You shoved a pillow over your face. "Oh my God."

Jinx practically vibrated with excitement. "You had a sex dream about Sevika?" She squealed.

You groaned into the pillow. "Please kill me."

Mel giggled, grabbing your arm. "Tell us everything."

"I will not."

Jinx nudged you. "Y/N. You have to."

You peeked out from behind the pillow, your face turning a violent shade of red. "It was just—" You cleared your throat. "It was…her. And me. And she was…um."

Jinx and Mel leaned in, eager to hear more.

"She was, uh…" You swallowed. "Very…close."

They screamed.

Mel fanned herself. "Oh my God."

Jinx grabbed your wrist, shaking it. "Are you kidding?! That’s so hot."

"It was not," You insisted. "It was humiliating."

Mel waggled her eyebrows. "Or…was it revealing?"

You threw a fry at her. She scowled at you and ate it.

Jinx grinned. "Okay, okay, but like…objectively speaking, Sevika is hot. Even though she like, has this stupid rivalry thing with Vi."

You groaned. "Don’t."

Mel wiggled her fingers. "Doooon’t deny it."

You buried your face in your hands. "I hate this conversation."

Before they could tease you more, the dorm door swung open.

And in walked Sevika.

She was sweaty, her skin glowing from the gym, dressed in loose gray sweatpants and a very tight compression shirt that clung to every inch of muscle. She had her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, her hair damp from sweat, and she looked unfairly attractive.

You felt your soul leave your body.

Sevika glanced at you and your friends, amused. "Should I be concerned about the screaming?"

Mel, being the worst, smirked. "Oh, don’t worry, it’s nothing important."

Jinx giggled. "Nothing you’d be interested in."

You suddenly had the urge to die.

Sevika raised an eyebrow but shrugged it off, tossing her bag onto her bed. She stretched her arms behind her head, the motion making her shirt ride up just enough to show a flash of her abs.

You were not looking.

(Okay, you were absolutely looking.)

Sevika smirked, tilting her head. "What? You three gossiping about me?"

Jinx beamed. "Why? Would you want us to?"

Sevika let out a low chuckle, and oh no.

Her gaze flicked to you, slow and assessing. "Depends."

Your brain shut down. Sevika was flirting with you, which Jinx and Mel caught onto immediately.

"Oh my God," Mel whispered dramatically.

You could feel your face heating up once again. It’s like you had a permanent blush. You were still thinking about The Dream, and now Sevika was standing there, looking annoyingly attractive, all muscle and sweat and teasing smirks. You cleared your throat, gripping your drink a little too hard. "We were just…talking."

Sevika’s smirk widened. "Just talking?"

Jinx grinned. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"

Sevika chuckled, grabbing a water bottle from her desk. "You’re all so weird."

Mel hummed. "And you’re so sweaty."

Sevika took a swig of water. "Thanks, princess."

You nearly choked on air.

Jinx and Mel had never looked so satisfied with themselves.

Sevika glanced at you, something amused in her gaze. Then, without another word, she grabbed her towel and headed toward the bathroom.

The second the door shut, all hell broke loose.

Jinx grabbed your shoulders, shaking you. "She so wants you."

Mel screamed into a pillow, overcome with giggles. "Did you see that?"

You buried your face in your hands. "I hate my life."

Jinx cackled. "Oh, babe. This is just the beginning."

The moment you all heard the shower turn on in the jack-and-Jill bathroom, your friends pounced.

You had barely taken a breath before Jinx grabbed you by the shoulders for a second time, eyes wild with mischeif. "Okay, listen up. We are going to make Sevika fall in love with you."

Your eyes widened in terror. "Excuse me?!"

Mel clapped her hands together, grinning. "No more playgirl Sevika. No more random girls in your dorm. No more flirting with you and pretending it means nothing. Nope. We are making her obsessed with you."

Your mouth gaped open. "You guys are insane, and so is this plan."

Jinx ignored you. "Step one: We use science. Psychological warfare, if you will."

You groaned. "Oh my God."

"Shut up, you love us."

"Not right now, I don’t."

Mel giggled. "Okay, okay, so here’s the plan."

Jinx leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "First, we use colors."

You blinked. "…Colors?" This is about the craziest thing you’ve ever heard.

Mel nodded sagely. "Sevika definitely has a favorite color, and also a favorite color that you wear sometimes. You need to wear it all the time."

Jinx grinned. "We already know she loves when you wear navy blue. You should also test out black and red. Vi says that Sevika likes those colors

You covered your face. "You guys are the worst."

Jinx poked your side. "Next: you have to start wearing things that’ll make her suffer."

"What?!"

"You know," Mel smirked, "tank tops, little shorts, crop tops. Walk around the dorm in tiny pajama sets. Maybe a towel every now and then."

You gasped, scandalized. "Mel!"

"What?" She sipped her iced tea innocently. "Just saying, if Sevika is already flirting with you when you’re not trying, imagine what happens when you do."

You groaned, dropping your head onto Jinx’s shoulder. "I hate this conversation."

Jinx patted your back. "No, babe, you love it."

Mel nudged you. "Next step: flirt with other people."

You shot up. "What?" You exclaimed again.

"Jealousy," Mel explained. "She needs to see other people wanting you. It’ll make her crazy."

You hesitated. "That feels kind of…mean."

Mel shrugged. "You don’t actually have to do anything. Just be you. We both saw her at the party. She noticed when you danced with Jinx’s sister. She noticed every guy who flirted with you. She notices everything about you, Y/N. You just need to turn up the heat."

Jinx grinned. "Oh, and you have to start going to her rugby games."

You tilted her head. "But I already support her—"

"Not like that," Jinx interrupted. "You need to show up in something cute, act like her biggest fan, and make sure she knows it."

Mel nodded. "And you have to make sure she sees you caring about her. Ask about her games, check in when she’s tired, bring her coffee when she has a rough practice. Girls like her act all tough, but deep down? They melt when someone actually gives a shit."

Jinx snapped her fingers. "Oh! And you have to invite her to your dance performance."

Mel gasped. "Yes! Can you imagine? Watching you on stage? Looking perfect and stunning and untouchable?"

You bit your lip. "I mean…that would be kind of nice."

Mel grinned. "Oh, babe. It would ruin her."

You exhaled, shaking your head. "You two are pure evil."

"Thank you," Mel said sweetly.

Jinx sat back, stretching. "Okay, that’s the plan. If you follow all of this, Sevika will be wrapped around your finger by Christmas."

You chewed your bottom lip, mind spinning. Could this actually work? Did you even want it to work? Sevika was…Sevika. Complicated. Dangerous. Gorgeous. Annoying.

But also—warm. And funny. And thoughtful, when she wasn’t being a menace.

And lately, you had been thinking about her way more than you should.

You exhaled. "I hate you guys."

Jinx smirked. "No, babe. You love us."

Meanwhile…

Sevika stood just outside the bathroom door, towel slung over her shoulder, hair still damp. She had stepped out of the shower a few minutes ago, so she had heard Mel and Jinx planning

And she had heard everything.

She smirked to herself, leaning against the wall.

So.

You were about to start playing games?

Cute.

Sevika had been holding herself back for weeks. She wasn’t stupid—she knew there was something between them, something electric and alive whenever they were in the same room. She had flirted, teased, pushed just enough to get a reaction. But now?

Now you were going to start testing her limits?

Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea what you just started.

Sevika ran a hand through her hair, her smirk deepening.

If you wanted to make her fall?

Then it was only fair that Sevika did the same.

Game on.

—————————————————————————-

oh my gyatt guys this is a long chapter😭 ALSO it has a title yay! i didn’t think that so many people would love this story, thank you!!

also oh my god finals are kicking my ass. if i’m slow with updates then that’s why!

i love you, blue🦋

tag list: @vahnilla @elliesngirl @naniiiii12 @liztreez @eriiwaiii2 @elliesgffrfr @nymanas @yashirawr @leeidk87 @imvioletscupcake @caffeine-pup @too-x @vxtanne31 @sleepycrybbylaiah @rosebg @pipirka827363829

#sevika supremacy #sevika x fem reader #sevika fluff #sevika x you #sevika x y/n #sevika x reader #sevika smut #sevika arcane #sevika #author #wlw author #wlw ns/fw #wlw blog #sapphic blog #rugby sevika supremacy #save me sevika #arcane

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sheastri · 5 days ago

Text

Valentine ft. Kimi Antonelli

Synopsis: In which she's Lewis's younger sister and there for a race. Maybe she can bargain for some extra credit for also catching the eye of another teams resident driver.

Pairing: Kimi Antonelli x black!fem!reader

Genre: SMAU + Story

Warning(s): Teenagers

Facecast: Akira Akbar (for the most part)

────────୨ৎ────────

liked by kimi.antonelli, imanirowe, and 156,000 others

ynhamilton would i be wrong if i fed roscoe my hw (say no)

lewishamilton just to confirm, we're talking about MY dog?

username ok but in what world does a teacher need to assign a 50 page packet??

username literally like where is the lorax when we need him??

imanirowe i support women's rights and their wrongs!!

ynhamilton you get me

username my dog ate my hw once and i never looked back

kimi.antonelli only if you don't feed roscoe my hw too

ynhamilton don't worry, igu

lewishamilton who's hand is that on the 3rd slide?

ynhamilton nurse!! he's out again ⤷ lewishamilton y/n...

username are we just gonna look past the slide of the study date?

username right and kimi in the likes?? username ya'll wanna play detective so fucking bad, ppl can't be friends now??

landonorris kids these days, when i was in school i valued homework

ynhamilton this is coming from the guy who didn't finish highschool?? ⤷ oscarpiastri ouch

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The First Meeting

I've rejected affection for years and years. Now I have it, and damn it, It's kind of weird...

"Girl it's hot as fuck but lemme not do too much because at least I'm not at school." You say while doing your homework in the Ferrari garage.

"I just survived another long day of school without you, please find it in your heart to come home soon." Imani cried out.

"You say this now but when I show up you're cozy in your bed and I'm stuck in the classroom alone." You reply rolling your eyes playfully.

"I swear you choose the worst days to come like..." Imani says playfully annoyed.

"Is this a sign for me to never show up again?" You say laughing.

"Now you and I both know damn well lew and your dad would never let that happen." Imani says laughing along with her.

"They really irk me sometimes." I say sighing before Lewis enters the garage.

"So you're doing homework but your phone is in your hand and you're on a call with Imani?" Lewis says aloud.

"Oh girl, why did he lowkey clock you..." Imani says still on the line.

"You're an opp, bye." You say hanging up the phone before turning to Lewis.

"Ok.. Hear me out.." You say as you begin to think up an explanation for not actually working.

Lewis just stares at you with his arms crossed.

"Ok fine, I don't have an excuse but look sometimes a girl just needs to chit chat with her best friend! Please don't tell dad..." You say dramatically.

"Alright." Lewis replies.

"Wait really? You're the best brother in the..."

"If you confess to breaking dads antique and clear my name." Lewis says, finishing his sentence.

"I take it all back, you are sick and twisted." You say before groaning and throwing yourself down in a seat.

"Well, do you have anything you want to share with the class y/n?" Lewis says raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing, I'm innocent." You say rolling your eyes and packing up your things to go find somewhere else to work in peace.

Luckily for you Lewis's race engineer distracted him momentarily and you took that as a good sign to leave.

On your way over to hospitality you bumped into someone. Leaving some of the papers you had to fall out of your hands.

"My bad, I was rushing and..." The guy trails off as you look up at him.

"Oh, it's fine. It's just math homework. I wouldn't even be mad if a car drove over it a million times." I say smiling.

“I get what you mean! Lately to take the workload off of just me I’ve been having the team help with math since they basically live, breathe, eat, and sleep mathematics.” Kimi says, giggling throughout his speaking as he watches the expression on your face.

“You know what… That’s a pretty solid idea.” You say as you’re now fully cracking up. Kimi just stares for a moment as if taking everything in.

"You're really pretty... sorry if that's weird to say!" Kimi says his voice going up an octave and cracking when he panicked. You just laugh softly.

"Nah you're good, thank you. You're also very pretty..." You say now getting a bit flustered.

"Umm Kimi Antonelli... like that's my name." He says nervously while smiling.

"Y/n Hamilton, nice to meet you Kimi." You say smiling as you go to pick up your papers from the ground and he instantly bends down to help you.

He tells me I'm pretty. Don't know how to respond. I tell him that he's pretty too! Can I say that? Don't have a clue

────────୨ৎ────────

liked by ynhamilton, mercedesamgf1, and 231,000 others

kimi.antonelli Special thanks to Canada for p3

username ok it's one thing for him to like y/n's post bc shes literally that girl but her liking his post??

username damn a girl can't show a little support for her friend now??

mercedesamgf1 Congrats Kimi!!

username ok but who is he celebrating with??

ynhamilton go white boy, go!!

kimi.antonelli i can't just get a simple good job and a pat on the back? ⤷ ynhamilton do u need that??

georgerussell well done kimi!

username well this is one way to soft launch

username With every passing moment I surprise myself. I'm scared of flies. I'm scared of guys... Someone please help!

liked by kimi.antonelli, lewishamilton, and 187,000 others

Tagged: imanirowe, friend1, friend2

ynhamilton february means the summer is still light years away but at least I have my ppl

kimi.antonelli did someone ask you to be their valentine?

ynhamilton why does it concern you again??

imanirowe im already scared for those exams 😭

username thanks for the reminder that I’m abt to suffer through the day while everybody gets balloons and baskets

username it's actually so bad, I'm literally gonna stay home for it this year

username Is this hinting at her having a valentine??

lewishamilton you definitely wouldn't survive finals so it's good that you have more time to study

ynhamilton why do you hate me??

username so who we think her valentine is??

username 'Cause I think I've fallen in love this time. I blinked and suddenly, I had a valentine.

────────୨ৎ────────

Pre-race Shenanigans

What if he's the last one I kiss? What if he's the only one I'll ever miss? Maybe I should run, I'm only 18. I don't even know who I want to become.

You wanted to check on Kimi before the race so you abandoned Lewis in the Ferrari garage and went over to merc to try and find him. You had texted him and he seemed a bit stressed. Upon opening the door you saw him pacing back and forth.

"Kimi." You said uttering his name just loud enough to bring him out of whatever trance he was in. You closed the door behind you and smiled softly as he looked up at you.

"What's up? Talk to me?" You said walking towards him.

"I don't know. I'm not really nervous or anything, it's like my mind is creating problems that aren't even probable." Kimi says before letting out a heavy sigh.

"Ok deep breaths Kimi." You say as you guys go over the typical destressing exercises. You watch as Kimi calms down and then smile when he looks at you again.

"Thanks." He says softly looking directly into your eyes.

"Yeah, it's whatever. Good luck and break a leg and whatever else they say." You say breaking eye contact and moving to exit the room.

"You know what would prepare me for this race even more?" He says as your walking to the door.

"What?" You say raising an eyebrow as you angle your body to look at him.

"If you were my valentine." He says almost breathlessly, as though he's surprised he actually said those words.

"Impress me and maybe I'll consider it." You say smiling before you exit the room leaving Kimi standing there shocked in the middle of it.

The second you leave the room and the door closes you let out a deep breathe and mentally squeal while skipping back to the merc garage as your mind keeps circling back to the moment.

I've lost all control of my heartbeat now. Got caught in a romance with him somehow.

────────୨ৎ────────

liked by ynhamilton, imanirowe, and 379,000 others

kimi.antonelli la mia valentina (My valentine)

username so you think you’re better than me??

ynhamilton im going to find the absolute worst photos of you now

username IM SICKKKKK

username I feel like he js told me to go kms??

ynhamilton love you pretty boy

kimi.antonelli mrs rabbit has fainted ynhamilton your so cuteness olliebearman mrs rabbit has fainted again

lewishamilton im sorry, what?

ynhamilton well! imanirowe so basically...

username aww ya'll so cute…ᵃⁿⁿᵃᵇᵉˡˡᵉ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ

username I still feel a shock through every bone when I hear an "I love you" 'cause now I've got someone to lose...

liked by kimi.antonelli, imanirowe, and 289,000 others

ynhamilton cats out of the bag

username

lewishamilton ANSWER YOUR PHONE

ynhamilton im sorry who are you?? lewishamilton ok keep that same energy ynhamilton WAIT! NO! im sorry pls

username they just make sense together

username i need a written apology from everyone who called me crazy!!

username YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE!!!…. ₕₒₑ

kimi.antonelli I can't believe I get to call you mine.

ynhamilton I blinked and suddenly I had a valentine.

466 notes · View notes

sweetromanova · 13 days ago

Text

Crisis Management: Part One🖤

Natasha Romanoff x PR Handler!Reader

Summary: Your assigned to make Natasha Romanoff more ‘relateable’. Somewhere along the way you forget your job was to fix her image, not fall in love with it.

A/N: three parts coming your way and maybe a few extra if ever actually write something again!

Nothing says ‘serious business’ like a well-timed speech.

Pepper Potts stood at the front of the briefing room, immaculate in a slate-gray suit that probably cost more than your car. Composed, poised, not a hair out of place for a woman, with such a difficult job and an even more difficult husband. With the slightest motion, just one perfectly manicured finger, she tapped the control panel. A hologram flickered to life, bold title blazing across the screen.

THE FUTURE OF HEROISM: STRATEGY & PUBLIC ALIGNMENT INITIATIVE.

You, meanwhile, were mentally rewriting your resume and wondering if your last boss would still be willing to lie for you.

“As SHIELD enters a reorganisation phase…” Pepper began. “It’s important we reinforce public trust. The Avengers Initiative is no longer just about defense, it’s also about presence. Visibility. Hope.”

Tony Stark coughed something that sounded suspiciously like branding.

“We want to reach people where they are.” Pepper continued, undeterred. “Schools. Fundraisers. Streaming platforms. We want to build a bridge between what they see on the battlefield and what they can believe in their everyday lives.”

Steve raised a hand. “This doesn’t involve dancing, does it?”

Silence, then a much quieter. “Not necessarily.”

He groaned. “That’s a yes.”

You tried to blend into the wall but it was too late. Her gaze already landed on you.

“This is our new Public Image Strategist. They’ll be working with each of you individually to build out personal brand campaigns, coordinate appearances, and help… shape the narrative.”

Tony gave a low whistle. Steve looked polite but wary. Clint squinted at you like you might be a new type of training dummy.

And then there was the empty chair.

Seat: Natasha Romanoff. Status: Unaccounted for.

Typical.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The meeting ended with you holding a folder full of schedules, press requests and enough NDAs to gag a lawyer. You managed to corner Pepper near the elevator. “I don’t mean to complain, but you assigned a lot of focus on Nat-“

“Natasha.” She said, crisply. “Yes. She’s the priority. People are more interested in the woman, naturally and she has ZERO presence when it comes to fan or press events.”

“She didn’t even show up to the meeting.”

“She doesn’t need to. You’ll find her.”

You blinked. “Shouldn’t she find me?”

Pepper smiled, the kind that meant you were already ten seconds into a losing battle. “She’s not a ghost. Just... persuasive about her time.”

The elevator doors opened. “And when you do find her.” Pepper added, stepping in. “Be patient. And wear black. She hates color-coordination.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Three hours later, you found Natasha in the gym.

Of course you did. Where else do assassins go to ignore the living?

She was hitting the punching bag like it owed her money. No music. No distractions. Just the thwack of fists and the low hum of tension hanging in the air.

“Natasha Romanoff?” You tried, internally berating yourself over how pathetic you sounded.

No response.

You stepped closer, adjusting your clipboard like it was a bulletproof shield. “I’m-“

“I know who you are.” She didn’t look up.

That was all she said for a solid thirty seconds. Then, still without meeting your eyes, she added. “Turn around and walk out. You’ll get paid either way.”

You paused. “I don’t walk out.”

She finally looked at you. “Do you prefer to be carried?”

“I prefer to do my job.”

Her eyes were cool and calm and terrifyingly amused. “Cute.”

“No, seriously.” You frowned, trying not to backpedal. “I’ve been assigned to help you. And before you tell me you don’t need PR, I’ve read every major article about your past ten years, and frankly? You desperately need PR.”

That got a her attention.

She stopped hitting the bag so you pressed on. “Look, I know you’re not a fan of this ‘smile for the cameras’ thing. But I’m not asking you to be someone else. I’m asking you to control the version of you the world sees. Because right now, the version they see is… scary.”

She walked past you slowly, grabbed a towel and wiped down her hands.

“You think I’m scary?” She asked, almost curious.

“I think you’ve trained people to be afraid of you. That’s different.” Now she looked at you directly. “I’m not scared of you.”

A faint smirked appeared on her face, like she found your bravery endearing, then she said. “Fine.”

“…Fine?”

“I’ll give you one week. One press appearance. One outfit, one event, one pathetic little video or whatever it is you people do.”

You opened your mouth but she held up a finger.

“But if I hate it, if I get ambushed by reporters, if someone asks me which lipstick I’m wearing while the world is still on fire, you’re done. And I mean done.”

You nodded, slowly. “Fair.”

She leaned in just slightly, the edge of a smile tugging at her lips.

“You really should’ve walked out.”

And then she left you standing in the gym with a clipboard, a heart that’s beating out of your chest and the very distinct sense that your life had just become infinitely harder.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You met her outside the Tower’s west exit at exactly 9:00am the next morning.

She was already there, leaning casually against the railing like she hadn’t just scared a State Department liaison into early retirement the week before. Dressed in what could only be described as ‘civilian casual’ for someone with a kill count, she wore fitted black jeans, ankle boots that had clearly seen both combat and cocktail parties and a leather jacket that managed to make her look more dangerous than full tactical gear. No weapons in sight, but it was Natasha Romanoff. She was the weapon.

“I said one event.” She warned flatly, eyes glued to her phone as her thumb flicked across the screen.

“And this is the one. You replied, lifting your tablet in a vaguely defensive gesture. “Daytime talk show. Live audience, five-minute interview slot. You smile, you answer a few softballs and we pretend you didn’t threaten three journalists in the last six months.”

Her lips quirked, barely. “Only two. The third one tripped.”

You tilted your head. “And landed on your elbow?”

“Gravity’s unpredictable.” She said, with a shrug. “How’d you know about that, anyway?”

“It’s in your file.”

“I have a file?”

You chose not to answer.

Mostly because you could already feel the weight of her gaze pressing into your back as you turned and started walking. She didn’t follow immediately. She didn’t need to. You felt her assessing you, like she was running mental simulations of how fast she could incapacitate you, how much effort it would take, whether you were worth the paperwork.

You weren’t easily shaken. You’d sat across from CEOs with billion-dollar egos and reporters with blood in their eyes. But Natasha was something else. She didn’t need attention. She didn’t need to talk big. She existed with the unnerving confidence of someone who could take apart your entire day and maybe your spine, without raising her voice.

Still, you walked ahead with purpose, reminding yourself with every step that you were in charge of this assignment. You had the schedule, the briefing notes and the earpiece with a direct line to PR. She just had the ability to kill you with a paperclip.

Balance.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The car ride was quiet.

Not peaceful quiet, where you watch the world pass by outside the window. The kind of loaded quiet where you waited and waited and waited to see who’s going to crack first. Probably the Russian assassin.

She sat across from you in the back of the sleek black SUV, legs crossed, gaze angled toward the window. Not watching anything in particular, just staring out like the city bored her. Like you bored her.

You risked a glance. Her profile was all clean edges and shadowed cheekbones, the kind of stillness that didn’t come naturally. It was trained, learned in silence. Perfected in sniper nests and interrogation rooms. She was beautiful, yes but in the way it was only meant to be observed from a distance.

It said ‘Look. Don’t touch.’

“So…” You said, the word awkward and brittle in the air. “Any topics you want to avoid during the interview?”

Her eyes slid to you, slow and flat. “Do I look like I do small talk?”

“You look like someone who’d rather chew glass than talk about childhood pets.”

That earned a flicker, just the slightest tilt of her head. “You think I had pets?”

You considered her. “I think you probably had to improvise. Like… a stolen lizard. Maybe some kind of Russian forest spider.

She actually laughed. Low, short, like it surprised even her.

“Stolen lizard.” She said, repeating it like she wasn’t sure whether to be amused or vaguely insulted. “That’s new.”

“I try.”

The silence that followed wasn’t exactly friendly but it had softened around the edges. Not warm but not actively dangerous.

You marked it as progress, small but it counts. The kind you didn’t take for granted when your travel companion had a kill count higher than you could count on your fingers and a fan club in the intelligence community.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The talk show set was chaos. Controlled chaos technically but only just. Lights blazed overhead, camera rigs swung dangerously close to expensive haircuts and nervous interns sprinted in every direction, clutching clipboards like life rafts. Someone in a headset was shouting about a broken teleprompter. Someone else was crying over coffee spilled on a celebrity dog.

Natasha surveyed it like it was a war zone.

You watched her automatically scan for exits, track movements in reflections, clock every potential threat with surgical precision. You half expected her to start marking civilians and calculating blast radius.

Leaning slightly closer, you said quietly. “No one here’s going to attack you.”

Her eyes didn’t leave the chaos. “You think that matters?”

You blinked. “You’re not on a mission.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “I’m always on a mission.”

You exhaled slowly and adjusted the lapel of your blazer. “Alright. Well. Mission: Public Relations is go. I’ll be right off-camera if you need extraction.”

She finally looked at you. That assessing stare again. “You’re good at this.” She said.

You raised a brow. “You sound surprised.”

“I’m not.” A pause. “I just don’t think you’ve had someone like me before.”

You smiled, tight but genuine. “You mean someone who growls at assistants and refuses to wear anything not black?”

“I mean someone who doesn’t care if people like her.”

You held her gaze. “That’s fine. I don’t need you to be liked. I just need you to be understood.”

That made her pause. Her expression didn’t change much but something shifted. A faint narrowing of her eyes. She looked at you like you’d just said something dangerous or useful.

“Careful.” She murmured. “You keep talking like that, I might start believing you.”

And just like that, you were off-balance again. Because you had no idea if that was a threat, a joke or something else entirely.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

“Okay, people!” The host swept into the green room in a cloud of aftershave, hairspray and effortless charisma. “Where’s my Widow? Is she here? Am I safe? Do I need to wear kevlar?”

You turned just in time to see Natasha’s expression flatten.

“This is him.” You said under your breath, trying to sound encouraging. “Play nice. He’s basically America’s favourite golden retriever personified.”

The host beamed and extended a hand to Natasha. “You must be the famously terrifying Natasha Romanoff. Wow. You’re even more intimidating in person. This is fun already.”

She stared at his hand like it had insulted her ancestors.

Then, very slowly, shook it.

He laughed, nervously. “God, I love that. That vibe. So intense. I mean, what an energy. I’m sweating a little. Are you sweating? It’s hot in here, right? I’m sweating.”

“No.” Natasha deadpanned.

Silence.

You coughed into your sleeve to hide a laugh.

The host pressed on, undeterred. “Okay, okay, we’re gonna have a great time. Just a short segment! Little chat, couple light questions, maybe a joke or two. Nothing deep, nothing classified. Sound good?”

Natasha tilted her head. “I don't really do jokes.”

He pointed at her like she’d just made one. “That’s so good. You’re hilarious. This is gonna kill.”

She didn’t blink.

You gave her a subtle nudge toward the stage. “Smile. Or at least don’t stab him, please.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The interview itself went surprisingly well.

There was only one hiccup, if you could call it that, when the host asked about international diplomacy and Natasha, deadpan as ever, replied. “I don’t believe in it. Some people just need to be punched.”

There was a half-second of stunned silence before the host threw his head back laughing. “Oh my god, same!”

The audience roared. Social media exploded in real time. Within minutes, the clip had been turned into a dozen GIFs. X was already calling it ‘iconic’, ‘big mood’ and ‘girlboss energy’.

From your place just off-camera, you watched her deliver the rest of the interview with practiced stillness, the perfect counterbalance to the host’s bouncing enthusiasm.

She was sleek, calm, perfectly collected. Every answer tight and controlled. Every joke or near-joke landing better than it had any right to. You tried not to feel the flush of something dangerously close to admiration.

Once the cameras cute, she ignored the host’s grateful thanks and his outstretched hand. Instead she walked towards you, expression unreadable.

“Well?” She asked, almost looking for validation.

You crossed your arms. “You survived. No casualties. Minimal PR fallout. The internet is liking you. Against all odds.”

“I still might punch the host later.” She adjusted her jacket. “But for now… not terrible. Also, liking?”

“Liking. We have work to do to make it loving.” You huffed a laugh, more relieved than you’d admit. “But I’ll take ‘not terrible’ as a win.”

She gave you a sidelong glance. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

But the moment lingered, her posture a little looser, the danger less immediate. And for the first time since this assignment started, you wondered if she was letting her guard down or if she just wanted you to think she was.

Either way, you counted it as another mark of progress.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Back in the car, she didn’t sit across from you this time. She sat beside you.

Close enough that her shoulder nearly brushed yours every time the car turned, close enough that you were suddenly hyper aware of your own breathing.

For a while, the city passed in silence, all blurring light, traffic hum and the occasional shout from a sidewalk. She said nothing, but you could feel her thinking.

Then, without looking at you, she spoke. “You really think I can be understood?”

Her voice was low like she wasn’t sure she believed in the question, let alone the answer.

You turned toward her, a soft smile on your face. You looked at the flicker behind her eyes that told you the question mattered more than she wanted it to.

“I think you’ve spent so long surviving that you forgot what it feels like to be someone. Not just escape someone.”

You saw it her falter slightly. Not on her face, she was too good for that. But in the way her gaze didn’t shift. In the way her breathing changed, just slightly.

She didn’t respond. Just turned her head back toward the window. “That was deep.” She murmured, making you huff out a laugh.

“Maybe your intense energy is rubbing off on me.”

“Maybe.” She smirked, letting the silence fill the car again. But this time, she was the one stealing glances, watching your hands twitch on your lap, running up and down paperwork and carving out the outline of your phone like they were itching to pick it up. You kind of were, leaving Tony Stark in charge of a ‘What I Eat In A Day’ was enough to raise your blood pressure.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The next day was officially ‘TikTok Bootcamp’.

The Avengers barely understood what that meant but apparently it was mandatory now.

Steve was standing near the set, eyeing the assortment of ring lights, tripods, and questionable props like they might explode. ““I’m sorry, what exactly are we doing?” He asked, dead serious as Bucky moved closer to him, almost using his body as a Shield.

“TikTok.” You said, forcing a smile that might have come off as a grimace. “It’s short-form video. Builds relatability. Everyone’s doing it. You’re Avengers, not relics.”

“I’d count those two super-grandpa’s as relics.” Tony, lounging in his trademark sweatpants and scrolling on his phone, laughed. “It’s basically the new battlefield. Less bullets, more followers. And memes.”

Clint was stretching like he was about to run a marathon. “I’m gonna blow out a knee. Sam owes me twenty bucks if I get more views than him.”

Sam smirked without missing a beat. “Dude, my last dance hit 2.4 million.”

Natasha leaned against the wall, arms crossed, looking like she was mentally preparing to file a formal complaint. “I’m not doing this.” She said, flatly and with a hint of finality.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Natasha, we agreed on five public engagement hours this week. This counts.”

“Dancing is not engagement.”

“It’s literally the most viewed content format on the planet.”

She tilted her head, unimpressed. “I don’t care.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Well, I do.”

That got her attention, her eyes sparked up like she’d been offered a challenge that only she could win.

“Look.” You sighed, at the group of adults stood around you. “Here’s the deal. We’re keeping it simple. No dances with more than six moves max. I’ll show, you copy. You don’t have to smile or enjoy it. Just follow.”

She gave you a slow once-over. “Is this painful for you?

“What?”

“Giving orders and not being obeyed.”

You grit your teeth. “No, what’s painful is organising this entire thing and having you stand there like a gothic gargoyle of sabotage.”

Clint wheezed from the couch. “Did she just call Nat a gargoyle?”

Steve, bless him, tried to intervene. “Hey, maybe we can just-“

“You-” You jabbed a finger at Natasha, ignoring Steve. “-are contractually required to participate.”

“And you-” She leaned in, voice low and wickedly calm “-are way more fun to watch when you’re a little off balance.”

You froze. The smug glint in her eye told you she’d done it on purpose.

Behind you, Tony muttered. “This is what the kids call a slow burn-“

“I got one of those from a chemical in Wakanda ones. I went four days before it blistered.” Bucky nonchalantly added, pointing out a little scar on the side of his elbow as Steve comforted him with a pat on the back. You had one thought running through your head . What the hell is going on right now?

“Ok.” You breathed. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Ten minutes later, Natasha sat across from you like she was prepping for a tactical briefing, arms crossed, black hoodie pulled over a tank top, expression blank enough to scare a mirror.

“Okay.” You said, adjusting the camera. “Simple concept. I play you popular TikTok songs. You give your first reaction. Honest but light.”

She said nothing. Just stared at the tablet like it had insulted her ancestors.

“Can you take that off?”

“My hoodie?”

“Yeah.”

Why?”

“You look less angry with your arms out.”

“You just want to see my arms.” She smirked but beying your order.

“No, I don’t but the fans will. So let’s get this done.”

You hit play on the first song ‘Good Luck Babe’.

Natasha listened with her usual poker face. Then, after a few seconds, she scoffed softly.

“Why does she keep talking about kissing men in bars all the time?” She grimaced. “Also I hate when people call each other ‘babe.’ I’m not a pig, thank you very much. This song is a waste of my time, next!”

You blinked, caught off guard by how blunt she was. “Natasha, can we maybe dial it back a bit?”

“You wanted my honest reaction.”

“We want snarky, not savage.” You said, half-laughing.

She rolled her eyes. “Snark’s just polite savage.”

You sighed and tapped the tablet. “Okay, next we have ‘Espresso’.”

Fifteen seconds in, Natasha tilted her head. “Is this a real song or a torture device?”

You sighed. “Natasha-"

“Because I’ve interrogated people to better soundtracks. Actually, I’ve been tortured to better music.”

You paused the music. “Let’s maybe try a compliment sandwich, okay? Snark in the middle. Praise on either side.”

She blinked slowly. “That’s a real thing?”

“It’s literally in your media training.”

“I thought that was a threat.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Next one.” Your manicured finger hits play on ‘Break My Soul’.

The beat dropped on a club remix that had racked up millions of views. Natasha raised an unimpressed brow. “Did the producer get electrocuted halfway through?”

You snorted, despite yourself. “Okay. That’s not a compliment but it is kind of funny.”

“I’m adapting.”

You hit pause. “Could you just… say one nice thing? Anything.”

She pretended to think. “They… finished the song.”

“Natasha. It’s literally Beyonce, if you hate on her then even I can’t save you.”

She exhaled, long-suffering. “Fine. She has a great body.”

“I- What?”

“Look at her body.” Natasha’s tone dropped to a mock-serious lecture, eyes narrowing like a professor about to school you.

“Look, she’s strong. No wasted movement, curves where they need to be.” Natasha’s voice dropped just a little, a slow smirk creeping in. “And that ass, it’s basically a weapon.”

You blinked, caught somewhere between admiration and embarrassment. “Okay, okay, I get it.” You held up your hands, cheeks heating. “Once again, let’s dial it back!”

Natasha smirked, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”

“Next is ‘Obsessed’, it’s a song about her boyfriend’s ex.”

“Weird thing to sing about but ok.” You click play and Olivia Rodrigo comes to life, Natasha listening intently.

“Ok… the song is garbage-“

“Natasha!”

“But I’m kind of impressed. Her recon would be very good, she’d be a decent agent with some training.”

“I’m sorry, what-“

“She has good instincts.” She shrugs, repeating herself. “Next.”

“Ok last one, we have Billie Eilish.” You click play on ‘Birds of a Feather’ and watch something in her face change for the first time.

She’s quiet for a long moment, like she’s analysing the lyrics. “I like this, it reminds me of Yelena.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

“Your sister?”

“Yeah.” She confirms. “Can we have another one?”

“Sure. You want to pick?” You hand her the phone and watch her scroll for a second before she clicks on ‘Lunch’.

It just hits the chorus when Natasha’s eyes narrowed slightly, a slow smirk spreading across her face.

“Oh.” She said, deliberately slow. “’I could eat that girl for lunch.’”

You blinked, suddenly aware of the way she was looking at you. “As she-“

Your throat went dry. “Okay, maybe stop quoting now.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why? I’m really thinking about the lyrics.”

“I need to keep this PG.” You excuse, heat crept up your neck.

Natasha’s smirk deepened. “I like this one too.”

“You’re impossible.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

An hour later, the videos are mostly edited and the first lot have been launched into the black hole that they call the internet. The team are gathered around, scrolling through their phones and reacting to the avalanche of thirst tweets and comments.

Tony was the first to burst out laughing. “Oh man, check this out ‘I’d let Steve split me in half like a pistachio!’ That’s hilarious.”

Clint snorted. “Someone said they want to use ‘Natasha’s thighs as earmuffs’.”

“It could be arranged.” Natasha shrugs, smirking as she looks to you out of the corner of her eye.

“What is girl boss and why do I have it?” Wanda questions, clearly enjoying making new internet friends.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “Listen to this! ‘I don’t know who’s thirstier, the internet or Nat herself’.”

“I’m not thirsty. What-“

“It means hor-“

“Ok, that’s enough for one day.” You interrupt with anxious smile, getting up to collect your things. Natasha’s gaze sharpened slightly but she didn’t say more.

Tony swiped to another comment. “Oh, here. ’Is it just me or is the tension here chef’s kiss?’ On Nat’s video. You two are getting shipped already.”

“Shipped?”

“Where are they going?”

“Why are they kissing a chef?”

“I don’t like boats.”

You laughed at their comments, brushing it off but the colour in your cheeks showed Natasha there was something more. “Tony, what is shipped?”

“Listen guys, maybe it’s time to put the phones down, yeah?” You attempt but Tony has other ideas.

“Urban dictionary says to ship, ‘meaning that you either want them to become an item, kiss or enter into a romantic/sexual relationship or all of the above’.”

“Oh.”

“The internet loves to match-make…” You try to ease the tension as the rooms falls silent.

“Well I did call it a slow burn.”

“I still don’t understand what that is.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You half smile to Steve. “Seriously, stop with the comments. My team will be going through it, deleting hate comments so please don’t reply to any of those.”

“Who’d hate on us?” Sam scoffs, at the same time as Clint says.

“‘Sam’s the only Avenger, who needs a step stool to hang with Steve and Bucky’.” The room dissolves into light laughter and you felt a little less flustered. But you can still feel Natasha’s eyes on you, watching you cautiously from her place on the couch.

“For the third and final time, I’m leaving.” You declare. “Remember no replies to hate comments. That means you Sam-“

“They’re saying I’m 5ft 4!”

“It will be deleted when you refresh the page, my team is good.” You assure. “Get some rest guys.”

The team bid you goodnight, lowering their phones for only a second as you leave the room before bringing them back up, to doom scroll the endless reactions. Just as the elevator doors close, you hear Bucky’s confused tone.

“What’s a bussy?”

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanov #fan fiction #light angst #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #wanda maximoff #fluff #sam wilson #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #tony stark #pepper #bruce banner #clint barton

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ce1estiall · 1 month ago

Text

come over

summary hopkins!paige x classmate!reader cramming for finals, so you decided you needed a studying break. masterlist

warnings fluff

celestial notes quick fic during my study break for finals 😅 enjoy :)

“and im crying out for anything, and the thought of something else

oh, i know you want to take my hand

so come over and dance.” come over - le sserafim

finals were something everyone has been dreading. you could feel the freedom of summer just around the corner, but not when your grades were on the line.

procrastination was your worst enemy, as you prioritized your happiness until the pressure was on at the last moment possible. however, this didn’t affect your schooling as you were a student with a 4.0.

paige on the other hand prioritized the athlete in student-athlete. she was constantly in the gym, most of the time being the last one to leave when it was pitch black outside. however, she still had amazing grades, which made her receive that offer from uconn.

you and paige met in ap lit. first week of school and transitioning into each of your classes, getting to know your teachers and any new students you haven’t met before. you sat down in your seat which was near the wall. music blasting in your earbuds in your right ear. you leaned your head on the wall and closed your eyes, already exhausted from the first week back attempting to find temporary relaxation. you didn’t feel as recharged as you thought you would by the time school started.

paige sat down, messy bun with a nike headband, with blue hopkins women’s basketball nike tech.

“hey! i’m paige” the blonde waved. you shot her a faint smile. “hi.” you introduced yourself to her briefly, as you didn’t see her before.

“cat got your tongue?” paige teased, laughing at her own joke. “nah, i’m just playing. how was your summer?”

you broke out of your shell just a little bit. still somewhat quiet, but putting yourself out there. “it was okay. i slept a lot, but went to the beach and watched the sunset.”

she was intrigued when you started talking. paige loved your voice, it soothed her worries like a cozy warm blanket in the middle of winter. “i love the beach, it’s so relaxing. i love hearing the sound of the waves crashing and the birds chirping behind. and the view? you can never beat a sunset at the beach. like at all.”

you both let soft giggles hit the air as the bell rang, signaling the start of class.

the teacher introduced herself and the class. saying how it was challenging, but it will help you in the future on how to make your writing solid. your teacher assigned a project based on the book that was assigned over the summer, in cold blood.

when the teacher said you could choose and work with partners, paige’s ears perked up, then she turned and smiled at you. a smile like the cheshire cat growing from ear to eat

that one little introduction and project that you and paige did with each other changed everything. you both became closer, and stuck like glue. she was the other half of you that you never discovered.

it was the early evening, the night before your algebra 2 final, and you were cramming, attempting to memorize formulas left and right as you gulped down a red-bull. lofi music played elegantly in the background as a lavender scented candle burned in the back, temporarily gifting you some zen from the scent. after what seemed like 700 practice problems later, you were burnt out. you called paige, praying she would give you motivation during a study break.

you picked up the phone and called her. she was on speed dial as she was one of your favorite contacts.

the phone rang 4 times until you heard a faint “hello?”

“paige.” you said in an anxious tone.

she seemed concerned, knowing you never called her out of the blue. “what’s up? what’s wrong?”

you sighed deeply from the stress that was on your chest. “i’m studying for my algebra final and i’m so fucking stressed. i feel like i’m about to lose my mind.”

silence temporarily took over. “i’ll be there in 5.”

“wait wh-“ was all you could managed to get out until she hung up the phone on you.

what seemed like seconds, you heard the buzzing of the doorbell and immediately knew who it was. you ran downstairs and pretended to act shocked when you saw the basketball superstar already in front of your doorstep. you saw the keys in her hands, knowing she drove herself here.

“what did you do? fly down the road?” you looked at her as if she were crazy.

paige laughed. “pretty much.” she entered the house and took off her slides, closing the door behind her, running upstairs to your room before jumping on your bed. a sunset light dimmed to the ceiling, fading from purple to orange and yellow. “damn this room just feels stressed.”

she got up from the bed as you sat down back at your desk, notebooks and pens scattered. she walked to your desk. “alright, what are we working with?”

“this.” you handed her the review packed, and her eyes widened as she sat back down. she was scared for you, and she wasn’t even in the same class. “yeah i’ll be praying for you.”

you gave her a sarcastic response. “thanks for the help paige.” you pushed your chair backwards towards the bed, so you could talk to paige. “i’m so fuckin’ stressed.” you head fell into your hands as you groaned. paige however knew you too well.

“okay well, how long have you had the review? and how long have you known when your final was?”

you looked up at her, guilty, knowing her lecture was about to come. “um….” you words faded like the candle slowly burning out. “two weeks ago..”

paige sighed with disappointment. paige was older than you, so of course she acted like she was the boss of you. “do i not get on your ass to do your schoolwork earlier?”

“okay i have a good excuse this time! i was too busy on my art final.” you scooted back to your desk, pen in your hand as you decided to get back to studying.

“okay here. take a breather and relax for a bit.” she patted the bed next to you.

you got up from your desk, sitting on the edge of the bed close to her. a little too close. “breathe in with your nose, out with your mouth.” and so you did, repeating it a couple of times until your leg stopped shaking from the worries. paige heard your breathing as the lofi stopped. just the both of you filled in a room with silence.

paige was magnetic towards you. you fought every urge just to not feel her touch, but you lost that battle. you rested your head on her shoulder as if it were a pillow. you arms wrapped around her neck as if you were a sloth, you didn’t want to let go of her.

her hand found your waist and rested gently there. “shhh. i got you.” her whispers faded your concerns away, as if you never had any in the first place. her fingers found your hair, gently raking your scalp through your brown curly hair. “it’s okay, i’m right here.”

you lifted your head up and looked at her icy cold eyes. they could freeze anything in sight. her pupils dialed when she saw your face. her hand trailed to yours, eventually interlocking fingers. she rubbed slow and gentle circles on your hand.

“don’t let your mind start racing and worry about anything and everything. just stay in the present right now. i’m right here.”

her words made you fluster on the spot. cheeks grew pink, and a smile started forming on your face. the way she spoke and anything she said to you was like a bandage that immediately cure you.

she smiled back at you, staring into your hazel eyes. she couldn’t stop herself from wanting you.

she placed a small peck on your cheek. it caught you off guard. you closed your eyes and enjoyed the way her lips felt on your cheek. smooth and soft, filled with loved.

she got up from the bed and sat at your desk, grabbing your notes. “here, let me help you study baby.”

baby, you could get used to that.

#dallas wings #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn womens basketball #wnba #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x you #paige x reader

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demonic0angel · 5 months ago

Note

Can we have more Tim thinks Danny is a vampire please?

Part 1, part 2, part 4

(Man, two people asked me this lmao)

Tim was silent as he walked through the college campus. Stephanie was by his side, trying to search through her tote bag while walking at the same time. “I’m so glad you’re back, Timmy!” Steph said when she found her lip balm, looking up with a light, fake smile. “Is college treating you well?”

Code for: ‘Why the fuck did you make me do this, are you happy???’

Tim nodded and returned the smile, though actually genuine. He was actually rather pleased that Stephanie was willing to help him hack into the college database and get another copy of Danny’s schedule, since most of his classes had been able to be switched around since he had discovered Tim’s observation.

“Thanks for showing me around,” Tim said. “I’m glad to be back.”

Stephanie snorted and then leaned in. “By the way, I hate you for this, but I did a thing for you. I made friends with the tall redhead that you said was named Wes.”

Tim inhaled sharply. “Seriously?” For a moment, he was extremely thankful that Stephanie was such a good friend that would put herself in danger for him. “Thank you!”

Stephanie nodded. “He didn’t seem very… vampiric to me, but yeah, we had a few classes together. His name is Wes and he’s sweet.”

“He could be dangerous,” Tim warned, before adding, “like Danny.”

Stephanie gave him a strange look before nodding slowly. Then she said, “You’re paying for me.”

Tim blinked in confusion but then Stephanie pulled him into a coffee shop situated on the campus. Inside, Tim gasped at the sight of Danny and this ‘Wes’ guy sitting together, silently doing their assignments. Tim quickly tore his gaze away, giving an alarmed look to Steph, who just smirked.

She pulled him by the arm over to them and plopped them both down on the seat. Danny looked up with wide eyes, but Wes didn’t even twitch. “Valerie, since you’re here, can you tell this bitch that I wish he’d drop dead?”

Danny covered his mouth to hide a smile, just as Stephanie grinned and said, “I’m not Valerie.”

Wes looked up with wide eyes. “Steph! I mean— I—! I didn’t—!”

Danny burst out laughing and Tim watched him carefully. To check for fangs, of course. His laugh was light and carefree, pleasant to the ear and cheerful enough to make Tim want to smile too. He was still snickering while Wes stammered and stuttered to an amused looking Steph.

Danny finally settled enough to look at Tim. There was still laughter in his bright blue eyes as he smiled. He put out a hand and said, “Are you Steph’s friend? Sorry for that asshole, he’s usually nice. The name’s Danny.”

Tim eyed his hand. Calloused, solid, with short fingers that told a story of art and hard work.

Tim shook it firmly. “Tim. I’m new.” He was colder than Tim’s hands, and he fit so nicely in his palms.

Danny grinned. “Welcome to Gotham University then, Tim!”

Tim returned the smile and nodded. He silently thanked Steph again. After all, without her, how would he have been able to interact with Danny in person?

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom x dc #dp x dc crossover #ask #anon ask #danny fenton #tim drake #stephanie brown #wes weston #wes x steph #tim x danny #dead tired ship #brain dead ship #spoiler warning ship #tim thinks danny is a vampire #ty for the ask!

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elikajinnie · 6 months ago

Text

Together As Gold - N.R & Y.J

P: Slytherins!Ni-ki & Jungwon X Fem!Reader

Requested by: @milksugatae

Warnings: Love Triangle, Tension, Flirting, Humour, Arguments, Jealousy, Two Endings screw it, i cant choose between them! I MADE THEM TOO TEMPTING HELP! GO FOR BOTH IDK! THEY BOTH DOWN BADDD, Teasing... LIKE ALOT OF TEASING!!! peeves is a canon matchmaker!

Synopsis: What do you do when two cunning Slytherin boys want you? If only you knew the answer yourself.

a/n: i got a few ideas for the shenanigans so special thank you to @starf4lls and @encrifice <33 dont mind any mistakes!

see request here | hogwarts au masterlist

When you first found yourself at Hogwarts, you were alone. The tall stone walls, the constant chatter of students—it was all overwhelming, and you didn’t know anyone. So, you kept to yourself, focusing on finding your place, giving yourself just enough time to get used to the classes and the eccentric professors.

But once you settled into the flow, things started falling into place. You made friends with your housemates and exchanged stories. The days went by easier after that, and before long, you had a solid group of friends around you, your circle expanding little by little. It was all going well—until you were assigned to work with two Slytherins for a Herbology project.

Ni-ki and Jungwon.

They were the kind of people who knew exactly how to get under your skin. But you would figure out just how different they were from everyone else, with due time.

You walked out of Herbology, your hands full with books, the weight of them pressing against your chest. You were double-checking, making sure you had all your materials. The hallways were bustling with students heading to their next classes, but you didn’t mind. It gave you a bit of space to organize your thoughts.

You hadn’t noticed them at first. Ni-ki and Jungwon were trailing behind you, their voices rising in a playful but heated argument.

“I’ll ask her first,” Ni-ki insisted, his tone cocky as always.

“No way,” Jungwon shot back, his voice smooth but firm. “I’ll do it.”

You could hear the back-and-forth, but it didn’t quite register until Ni-ki, with a sudden burst of energy, slid in front of you, effectively stopping you in your tracks. His sharp, mischievous smile was the first thing you noticed as he raised an eyebrow.

“Hey,” he said casually, as if he wasn’t completely interrupting your path. “What do you think about getting a head start on that project? Have you figured anything out yet?”

You blinked, surprised, and for a moment, just stared at him. Behind him, Jungwon stepped up to stand beside him, equally as composed but with a glint in his eyes that made you feel like this wasn’t just a casual suggestion. They were both waiting for you to respond, their eyes studying you, each trying to gauge how you’d react.

You narrowed your eyes at them, still trying to make sense of the situation.

“Well…” you started cautiously, “I have something figured out, but I’m still not completely sure.”

As if that was the cue they’d been waiting for, Ni-ki and Jungwon suddenly moved in closer. Before you could protest, they both grabbed your arms—Ni-ki on one side, Jungwon on the other—and pulled you along with them. You stumbled slightly, caught off guard, and blinked at the two of them in confusion.

Ni-ki’s mischievous grin never faltered. “Good, then we’ll figure the rest out together,” he said, as though it was perfectly normal for him to be dragging you along through the hallways.

Jungwon let out a soft laugh, the sound oddly charming as he looked over at Ni-ki. “Herbology isn’t even my strongest subject,” he admitted, his tone casual, though you weren’t sure if it was meant to reassure you or not.

Ni-ki rolled his eyes dramatically. “As if you have a strong subject at all,” he shot back with a grin, a little too confident in his jab.

Jungwon smirked, unbothered. “At least I don’t fail every practical. Your last Herbology experiment looked like a failed potion, Ni-ki.”

Ni-ki scoffed. “Better than your Charms assignment, which was basically a disaster in a teacup.”

“Better than your Transfiguration homework that could only be fixed by Professor McGonagall herself,” Jungwon retorted smoothly.

You just stared at the two of them, utterly baffled. Was this really happening? They bickered back and forth as if they didn’t have a care in the world, each comment more sarcastic than the last.

“Oh, don’t even get me started on your Potions, Jungwon,” Ni-ki continued, practically laughing. “Last time you nearly blew up a Hufflepuff with a single sneeze.”

Jungwon shot him a playful glare. “At least I didn’t turn a batch of sleeping draught into a batch of pepper-up potion. You nearly made the whole class go into a caffeine frenzy.”

You raised an eyebrow, still trying to make sense of it all. Was it possible to survive being caught in the middle of this?

Jungwon leaned in a little closer, smirking. “Face it, Ni-ki. If it wasn’t for me saving your ass last semester, you’d be stuck in the library trying to figure out what went wrong with that failed Firemaking spell.”

Ni-ki grinned wider. “Who says I needed saving? I had it all under control, except for the little incident with the blast-ended skrewt…”

You sighed, realizing that you were witnessing a rivalry of sorts, but one that seemed more like the banter between good friends. It didn’t make it any easier to deal with, though. How were you supposed to survive having these two as your project partners?

Okay, turns out you would survive having them as your project partners. Despite their obvious lack of skill in Herbology, they did help—or at least tried to. Both of them seemed strangely determined, which you quickly realized wasn’t out of pure goodwill but out of a mutual fear of failing the subject. For what reason, you didn’t know, but the way they occasionally exchanged nervous glances during Professor Sprout’s lectures told you there was more to it than they were letting on.

What you did know, however, was that they were a surprisingly funny duo. Whether it was Ni-ki accidentally knocking over a pot of bouncing bulb roots and blaming it on Jungwon, or Jungwon deadpanning as he handed you a watering can he had accidentally charmed to spray in every direction but the plants, they somehow managed to turn the tedious project into something… enjoyable.

“You were supposed to prune it, not scare it to death!” you groaned, staring at the now-drooping Flutterby bush in Ni-ki’s hands.

“It’s not dead! It’s just taking a nap!” Ni-ki argued, holding it up defensively.

“Sure,” Jungwon interjected with a smirk. “Because plants definitely sleep like that.” He gestured at the pitiful bush, which was half dangling out of its pot.

“Do you want to take over?” Ni-ki shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Oh wait, you can’t even tell the difference between a Shrivelfig and a gourd!”

Jungwon didn’t miss a beat. “And yet, I’m still doing better than you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. Somehow, their antics made it easy for you to relax and talk to them, like you’d known them since your first year at Hogwarts. They had this way of making you feel included in their little bubble of chaos, like you were already part of their circle of friends.

The three of you spent hours in the greenhouse, working on the project—and while there was plenty of bickering and mishaps, you couldn’t deny how much easier it was to get through with them.

Surprisingly, you all managed to finish the project on time, even if a few mishaps happened along the way—and even if a few unfortunate plants didn’t make it. The Flutterby bush never quite recovered from Ni-ki’s aggressive pruning, and Jungwon accidentally overwatered the Fanged Geranium, which resulted in a small flood and several frantic minutes of dodging snapping leaves. But somehow, against all odds, you pulled it together.

What shocked you most wasn’t just that the project was finished, but that you actually enjoyed your time with them. Sure, they were a pair of chaotic distractions half the time, but their constant banter and ridiculous antics made the whole ordeal much more bearable than you’d expected. It was easy to laugh with them, easy to talk to them about random things that had nothing to do with Herbology. Somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like a school assignment and started feeling like… fun.

When Professor Sprout handed back your marks, you almost didn’t believe it. The three of you passed the project with flying colors.

“See?” Ni-ki said smugly, leaning back in his chair and flashing a grin at you and Jungwon. “I told you we’d ace it.”

“You told us nothing,” Jungwon deadpanned, elbowing him lightly. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have even known which end of a Mandrake to pull.”

Ni-ki scoffed. “If it weren’t for me, you’d still be trying to figure out how to trim the Devil’s Snare without getting strangled.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the two of them. “If it weren’t for me, neither of you would’ve made it past the planning stage.”

They both paused for a moment, then nodded in agreement. “Fair enough,” Jungwon said with a small grin.

“Yeah,” Ni-ki added, nudging you playfully. “Guess you did help us.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway. They might have been annoying, chaotic, and occasionally useless when it came to Herbology, but you had to admit—working with them had been fun.

And you honestly thought that was it—that after the Herbology project, you wouldn’t have to worry about Ni-ki and Jungwon anymore. They’d go back to their own lives, and you’d go back to yours, free of their chaos. But clearly, you were wrong.

The very next day, you were calmly walking toward the Great Hall for lunch, your mind blissfully occupied with thoughts of pumpkin pasties and butterbeer, when a loud BOOM echoed through the hallway behind you. The ground shook slightly, and the smell of smoke began to fill the air.

You froze, eyes widening as you turned around. Before you could even process what had happened, the rapid sound of footsteps thundered in your direction. Your gasp caught in your throat as you saw them—Jungwon and Ni-ki—sprinting down the corridor with wild, panicked looks on their faces.

“Run! Let’s go, let’s go!” Ni-ki shouted, his voice loud and urgent.

Before you could even ask what was going on, they spotted you. Without missing a beat, they grabbed you—Ni-ki gripping one arm, Jungwon the other—and practically dragged you along with them as they continued their frantic escape.

“Wait! What—what are you—” you tried to protest, your feet stumbling to keep up as they pulled you at full speed.

“Let’s go, let’s go, don’t stop!” Ni-ki repeated, glancing back over his shoulder like he expected something—or someone—to be chasing you.

“What did you two do?” you demanded, the words coming out more like a yell as they yanked you around a corner.

Jungwon was panting but managed to shoot you an innocent look. “Nothing serious,” he said, though the faint hint of panic in his voice betrayed him. “Just… a minor miscalculation.”

“A miscalculation?! What does that even mean?”

Before either of them could answer, another explosion rang out from somewhere behind you, followed by an angry voice shouting something you couldn’t quite make out. Your stomach dropped as realization began to dawn on you.

“Did you two blow something up?” you asked, your voice rising in disbelief.

“Not on purpose!” Ni-ki shot back defensively, still pulling you forward. “We were just experimenting in the Potions classroom—”

“It was his idea,” Jungwon interrupted, cutting him off with a pointed look.

“Oh, don’t even start!” Ni-ki snapped, glaring at him. “You were the one who said, ‘Let’s add just a little more firewhiskey to see what happens!’”

“And you’re the one who actually poured it in!” Jungwon countered, his tone exasperated.

You stared at them, completely dumbfounded. This couldn’t be real. How had you gone from a peaceful walk to being dragged into yet another one of their disasters in less than two minutes?

“Why am I even here?!” you shouted, half running, half being dragged.

“Because,” Jungwon said, shooting you a quick grin despite the chaos, “you’re our lucky charm. And we figured you wouldn’t mind helping us... again.”

“You figured wrong!” you snapped, but neither of them seemed to care.

All you could do was sigh as they continued dragging you down the hall, their bickering somehow louder than the chaos they’d left. You were starting to think that surviving the Herbology project was only the beginning of whatever mess these two had planned for your life.

And, well, you were right. After meeting Ni-ki and Jungwon, your once relatively peaceful life became a whirlwind of chaos. Everything they did—everything—somehow ended up involving you, whether you wanted it to or not. It wasn’t long before their mischief became a permanent fixture in your day-to-day existence.

If they were planning a prank, they either roped you in to help or you’d somehow stumble across them in the aftermath, frantically trying to help them hide from Filch. And of course, you’d end up covering for them because they’d flash you those overly innocent smiles that made it impossible to say no.

If they were skipping class, you found yourself torn between making up excuses to the professors on their behalf or—more often than you cared to admit—being dragged along with them. “Just this once,” they’d promise, only for it to happen again the next week. And the week after that.

If they were goofing around, you were inevitably dragged into it. A simple walk to the library would somehow turn into a duel with floating chocolate frogs in the middle of the corridor. And if they decided to sneak out to Hogsmeade, you’d find yourself sandwiched between them at the Three Broomsticks, half-laughing, half-sighing as they plotted their next big thing.

Even their visits to Hagrid’s hut became a regular thing for you. The first time, they claimed they just wanted to “show you something cool,” but the next thing you knew, you were in Hagrid’s hut, trying to dodge a Blast-Ended Skrewt that had gotten a little too excited. It was a miracle you all made it out in one piece.

Somewhere along the way, though, all of the chaos and madness began to feel normal. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, but you’d become friends with them—real friends. The kind who stuck by each other, no matter how ridiculous the situation. And, as much as you hated to admit it sometimes, you enjoyed it. They made life more exciting and a lot more fun.

Eventually, the three of you became known across the school as the Mischief Trio. Every time something happened—whether it was a dungbomb going off in the middle of a Slytherin and Gryffindor Quidditch match, a swarm of enchanted paper birds in the library, or Filch’s office mysteriously flooding—it was almost guaranteed that you three were involved in some way. Professors groaned at the sight of you, and other students either avoided you or gravitated toward you, depending on their appetite for trouble.

But no matter how much trouble you got into, you couldn’t imagine your life without them. Sure, they drove you crazy most of the time, but they also made Hogwarts feel a little more like home. And you knew you’d always have their backs—just like they’d always have yours.

So it wasn’t really much of a surprise when you were sitting quietly in the library, diligently working through your Potions notes, and Jungwon suddenly appeared, slipping into the seat across from you. A second later, Ni-ki followed, plopping himself down beside him. Neither said a word, which was unusual. You didn’t even lift your head, only glanced at them for a brief second in acknowledgment before returning your attention to your notes.

The silence lingered, and for a moment, you were genuinely surprised. Normally, by now, they’d have already started whispering—well, trying to whisper—about their latest harebrained idea or grumbled about how boring studying was. It would escalate until Madam Pince would inevitably swoop in with her stern glare and a sharp “Silence!” by which point they’d be grinning like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. But this time, they just sat there, completely quiet.

It was so unlike them that you couldn’t help but glance up, a little suspicious. Jungwon was leaning casually back in his chair, flipping idly through a random book he’d grabbed, while Ni-ki seemed to be doodling on a scrap of parchment. Neither of them met your gaze, though you could tell something was up by the way they were both sneaking glances at you from the corners of their eyes.

Before you could say anything, Jungwon slipped something across the table—a small folded piece of parchment. You frowned, curiosity piqued, and carefully opened it.

We need your help. Meet us at the Astronomy Tower after dinner. Don’t tell anyone.

You stared at the note for a moment before glancing up at him. Jungwon raised an eyebrow at you, his expression unreadable but with just enough of a spark in his eyes to make you wary. Beside him, Ni-ki finally looked up from his parchment and gave you an exaggerated thumbs-up, grinning like a kid who’d just gotten away with stealing a cauldron cake.

“What exactly do you need help with?” you whispered, narrowing your eyes at them.

Ni-ki quickly shushed you, his grin widening. “Not here,” he muttered, gesturing around dramatically as if someone might be listening. “Just come later, and we’ll explain everything.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Why do I feel like this is going to get me into trouble?”

“Because it probably will,” Jungwon said with a small, unapologetic shrug. “But that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”

You gave him a flat look, but he and Ni-ki just grinned at you, their expressions far too innocent for comfort. Whatever they had planned, you already knew it wasn’t going to be anything good. And yet, you knew you’d end up going.

Because somehow, they always managed to drag you along.

So, you did end up going to the Astronomy Tower after dinner, half-expecting to find them already waiting for you. But when you arrived, the place was empty. The cool night air swept through the open windows as you looked around, your footsteps echoing faintly against the stone floor.

"Jungwon? Ni-ki?" you whispered, peering into the shadows. No response.

You frowned, waiting for a few minutes, debating whether you’d been pranked. Then, the faint sound of stone shifting caught your attention. Whipping your head around, you scanned the room—and almost screamed when you saw a hole opening in the stone wall near your leg.

“Relax,” Ni-ki’s grinning face popped out of the hole, his head tilted mischievously. His voice was almost too casual for someone emerging from a secret passage. “It’s just me. Come on, get in.”

“What—Ni-ki? What is—how did you even—” you stammered, taking a step back as he motioned for you to follow.

“No time for questions. Just get in,” he urged, already reaching out to grab your ankle.

“Wait, get in where?” you asked, taking a cautious step closer, only for him to start pulling you toward the hole. “Ni-ki, this is insane—what is even—”

“Just trust me!” he said with a grin, dragging you through the opening before you could protest further.

You stumbled into the narrow passageway as Ni-ki pushed the stone slab back into place behind you, sealing off the entrance as if it had never been there. Without skipping a beat, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you down a spiraling stone staircase, the air growing colder as you descended.

“This better not be a prank,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

“Oh, it’s not,” he said, his voice carrying a suspiciously gleeful undertone.

Finally, you reached a small, dimly lit room, the stone walls lined with shelves holding jars of unidentifiable substances. In the middle of the room sat Jungwon, surrounded by an assortment of ingredients, potion books, and a bubbling cauldron. The faint greenish glow of the potion illuminated his face as he looked up at you with a sheepish grin.

“You made it,” he said simply, as if you’d just arrived for a casual study session.

Ni-ki let go of your wrist and plopped down beside Jungwon, motioning for you to sit. You hesitated for a moment before slowly lowering yourself onto the floor. As you settled in, your eyes darted to the mess of potion ingredients scattered around the room—lacewing flies, leeches, powdered bicorn horn, boomslang skin.

Your stomach dropped as you recognized the familiar list of items. Glancing at one of the potion books lying open beside Jungwon, your suspicion was confirmed.

They were making Polyjuice Potion.

“Are you two insane?” you hissed, your voice sharp but quiet. “You do know this is against the rules, right?”

“Rules?” Ni-ki scoffed, waving you off as if you’d just told him the sky was blue. “Only if we get caught.”

“And we’re not going to get caught,” Jungwon added confidently, gesturing toward the cauldron. “We’ve been careful. No one even knows we’re down here.”

You stared at them, utterly baffled. “Why are you even making Polyjuice Potion? What could you possibly need it for?”

They exchanged a quick glance, and you immediately knew you weren’t going to like their answer.

“Well…” Ni-ki started, dragging out the word as if trying to figure out how to phrase it.

Jungwon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “We just… need to, uh, borrow someone’s identity for a bit.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Whose?”

Ni-ki grinned, clearly finding the entire situation amusing. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Absolutely not,” you said, shaking your head. “I want no part in this. You two are going to get expelled if anyone finds out!”

“Relax,” Ni-ki said, leaning back against the wall. “We’ve got it under control.”

“You don’t even have it finished yet, do you?” you said, gesturing to the messy pile of jars and powders.

“Well, no,” Jungwon admitted, his tone hesitant. “That’s… kind of where you come in.”

You groaned, already regretting every decision that had led you to this moment. “Of course it is.”

“We just need a little help,” Ni-ki said, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And who better to help than the smartest person we know?”

You glared at him. “Flattery isn’t going to work.”

“Come on,” Jungwon said, his voice annoyingly reasonable. “You’ve already helped us so many times. What’s one more?”

“One more? This is Polyjuice Potion we’re talking about!” you hissed, staring at them, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as they launched into a chorus of pleading.

“Please,” Ni-ki whined, dragging out the word like a child denied dessert. “Just this once—well, technically not just this once—but, you know, this time’s important!”

“Very important,” Jungwon chimed in, nodding solemnly.

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Important? You mean ‘reckless’ and ‘completely unnecessary.’”

Ni-ki pouted dramatically, scooting closer to you on his knees. “Come on, don’t be like that! You’re our only hope.”

“I’m serious. This isn’t happening,” you said firmly, your voice unwavering.

But then Jungwon joined in, mirroring Ni-ki’s position on your other side. Now you were flanked by both of them, their faces far too close for comfort, with matching grins.

“Pretty please?” Jungwon said, tilting his head and batting his lashes like he was trying to win some sort of charm contest.

“With chocolate frogs on top?” Ni-ki added, leaning in with a cheeky smirk.

You glanced between them, your eyes narrowing as they started piling on the dramatics.

“You’re the best at brewing potions!” Jungwon said, nudging your arm.

“And the smartest,” Ni-ki added, nudging your other arm.

“Way better at this than us,” Jungwon continued, his tone dripping with faux admiration.

“And let’s be real—you’re kind of already involved, so why not just see it through?” Ni-ki finished, his grin turning downright devilish.

You rolled your eyes. “You mean you two dragged me into this against my will. That’s not the same thing as being ‘involved.’”

“Details,” Jungwon said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Come on,” Ni-ki teased, leaning so close that you instinctively leaned back. “We’re your friends, remember? What kind of friend would you be if you didn’t help us out?”

“Yeah, what kind of friend?” Jungwon echoed, his voice dripping with mock hurt.

You glared at them, your resolve faltering slightly as they both gave you identical puppy-dog eyes. They knew exactly what they were doing, and unfortunately, you knew exactly how this would end.

“You two are the worst,” you muttered under your breath, looking down at the potion book in front of you.

“Does that mean you’ll help?” Ni-ki asked, his grin widening in triumph.

“Ugh, fine,” you groaned, throwing your hands in the air. “But if we get caught, I’m telling them it was all your idea.”

“Deal,” Jungwon said quickly, already flipping to the next page of the book.

Ni-ki threw an arm around your shoulders, grinning ear to ear. “Knew you’d come through for us.”

You sighed, wondering for the millionth time how you always let them talk you into these things. If Hogwarts ever handed out awards for bad decisions, you were pretty sure you’d win one.

You sighed for the umpteenth time as you carefully added a pinch of powdered bicorn horn into the bubbling cauldron. The potion hissed softly as the powder dissolved, releasing a faint green wisp of smoke. Ni-ki and Jungwon sat on either side of you, their usual antics subdued for once as they watched you work, their eyes glued to your every move like you were performing some kind of ancient magic ritual.

"Can you two stop staring at me like that?" you muttered without looking up, your voice edged with exasperation.

"We're just... observing," Jungwon said innocently, though the small smirk on his lips betrayed him.

"Yeah, gotta make sure you're doing it right," Ni-ki added with a teasing lilt.

You shot them both a sharp look. "Oh, I'm the one you're worried about messing this up? Let me remind you whose brilliant idea this was."

Ni-ki grinned, leaning closer. "Exactly. Which is why we need you to handle it—you’re way better at this than we’d ever be. Right, Jungwon?"

Jungwon nodded seriously, though his gaze didn’t waver from the potion. "Yeah. If it were up to us, we’d probably blow something up by now."

You couldn’t argue with that. They had the combined attention span of a niffler in a jewelry shop.

"Just don’t distract me," you muttered, carefully stirring the potion clockwise. "If you make me mess this up, we’ll have to start all over again, and I am not spending another night like this with you two."

"Aw, you love spending time with us," Ni-ki teased, leaning his chin on his hand as he continued to watch you.

You didn’t dignify that with a response, instead focusing on the precise instructions in the book. Step by step, you added each ingredient, your movements careful and deliberate. Occasionally, you’d glance at the timer Jungwon had set, making sure everything was timed perfectly.

As the potion began to turn the intended muddy brown color, a sign that it was nearing completion, you let out a small breath of relief.

"Wow," Ni-ki said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was softer, almost genuine for once. "You’re, like... really good at this."

You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Don’t sound so surprised."

"I’m not," he said quickly, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "But watching you work is kind of impressive."

Jungwon nodded in agreement, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a rare moment of sincerity. "Yeah. We’d be completely hopeless without you."

For a moment, their compliments caught you off guard. You felt heat rising to your cheeks, but you quickly masked it by focusing on the potion again.

"Well, maybe next time, don’t drag me into something like this again, and I won’t have to save your butts," you said, though your tone lacked its usual sharpness.

Ni-ki chuckled. "Where’s the fun in that?"

Jungwon leaned closer, resting his elbows on the table. "You wouldn’t leave us to fend for ourselves, though. Admit it—you’d miss us."

You rolled your eyes, stirring the potion one last time. "I’d miss the peace and quiet more."

They both laughed, and for a brief moment, the room felt lighter. As chaotic as they were, you couldn’t deny that there was something oddly comforting about their presence, even when they were dragging you into one ridiculous situation after another.

"Alright," you said finally, stepping back and wiping your hands on your robes. "The potion’s done—for now. It needs to sit for a month before it’s ready to use."

"A month?" Ni-ki groaned, slumping back against the wall dramatically.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. "Did you even read the instructions before planning this?"

"Of course I did!" Ni-ki said, though his expression said otherwise.

You shook your head, gathering up the leftover ingredients. "Typical. Anyway, you two better figure out what you’re actually going to use this for. I’m not getting involved beyond this point."

"Sure you’re not," Jungwon said with a knowing smirk.

Ni-ki grinned, leaning forward with that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. "Yeah, we’ll see about that."

You rolled your eyes, brushing off your robes as you stood up, ready to leave this chaotic duo behind for the night. "Well, good luck with your little plan or whatever. I’m going to pretend I was never here."

But before you could take more than a step, Jungwon was suddenly on his feet, grabbing your wrist with a firm but gentle grip.

"Wait," he said, his eyes bright with excitement.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing between him and Ni-ki. "What now? I already did what you wanted. I’m not doing anything else."

Jungwon grinned, ignoring your protests entirely. "We want to show you something."

You blinked, confused. "Show me what?"

"You’ll see," Ni-ki chimed in, already moving and motioned for Jungwon to hurry up.

"Come on," Jungwon said, tugging on your wrist before you could protest further.

Sighing, you let yourself be dragged along, too tired to argue. "This better not get me into more trouble."

"No promises," Ni-ki called over his shoulder, a teasing lilt in his voice as he disappeared down the corridor.

The three of you navigated through the dark, winding passageways beneath the castle, the air cool and slightly damp. You had no idea where they were taking you, but you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity.

After what felt like ages of walking, Ni-ki and Jungwon came to a stop in front of a narrow staircase that spiraled upward.

"Here we are," Ni-ki announced, gesturing grandly.

You frowned, looking up the staircase. "Where exactly is here?"

"You’ll see," Jungwon said, his grin widening as he nudged you toward the stairs.

With an annoyed sigh, you reluctantly began to climb, Jungwon following close behind while Ni-ki took the lead. When you finally reached the top, Ni-ki pushed open a small wooden door, and you stepped out into the cool night air.

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight before you. You were on a secluded rooftop of the castle, the view stretching out over the Hogwarts grounds. The Forbidden Forest loomed dark and mysterious in the distance, and the Black Lake shimmered faintly under the light of the moon.

"Whoa," you breathed, momentarily forgetting your irritation.

"Told you it was worth it," Jungwon said, his tone softer now as he stepped up beside you.

Ni-ki plopped down on the edge of the rooftop, his legs dangling over the side as he leaned back on his hands. "We found this spot last year. Nobody ever comes up here. It’s kind of... ours."

"Well, now it’s ours," Jungwon corrected, shooting you a smile.

You glanced between the two of them, your heart softening despite yourself. For all their chaos and mischief, they had a knack for moments like this—moments that made you glad you were friends with them.å

"So," Ni-ki said, breaking the silence, "what do you think? Worth the trek?"

You gave him a small smile, finally letting your guard down. "Yeah... it’s pretty amazing."

Jungwon leaned back against the wall, a satisfied grin on his face. "Knew you’d like it."

The three of you sat there for a while, just sharing a quiet night under the stars.

Well, you would love to say that the month waiting for the Polyjuice Potion to set was peaceful.

But that would be a lie.

No, the so-called "peaceful waiting period" turned into absolute chaos. Since Ni-ki and Jungwon couldn't carry out their grand plan just yet—one they still refused to tell you about, claiming it was a "surprise"—they apparently decided to channel their boredom into wreaking havoc around the castle.

The professors were on edge, constantly looking over their shoulders for the next disaster. Filch was more paranoid than ever, skulking through the hallways with his lantern, muttering about "those blasted kids." Even the ghosts seemed jumpier than usual, drifting through walls with wary expressions, as though they'd had enough of the two troublemakers.

And somehow, no matter what you were doing, you always managed to get roped into their schemes.

You’d lost count of how many times you’d accidentally stumbled upon them in the middle of one of their rule-breaking escapades. It was like you had some sort of invisible string tying you to their chaos. You’d walk into a corridor or step into an empty classroom, minding your own business, only to find them hunched over a suspicious-looking contraption or whispering excitedly about their next prank.

The moment they spotted you, it was over.

"Perfect timing!" Ni-ki would exclaim, as if you’d planned to walk in on them.

"Don’t just stand there—help us!" Jungwon would add, usually while pushing something heavy or fumbling with something clearly not meant to be in a student’s hands.

And no matter how much you protested, no matter how loudly you declared that you wanted nothing to do with their shenanigans, you’d inevitably end up being dragged into it.

One time, you’d walked into the library, thinking you’d finally get a peaceful moment to study. Instead, you found them standing in the Restricted Section, both of them holding an armful of books they definitely weren’t supposed to have.

“What are you doing?!” you hissed, glancing around to make sure Madam Pince wasn’t nearby.

“Research,” Ni-ki said simply, dropping the books onto a nearby table with a loud thud.

“For what?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

He grinned. “Class stuff. You wouldn’t understand.”

Jungwon, on the other hand, looked at you with a completely straight face. “He’s lying. We’re looking up forbidden spells.”

You groaned. “Why do I even bother?”

Another time, you were walking back to your dorm after dinner, only to see Filch sprinting down the corridor in the opposite direction, his face red with fury. Moments later, Ni-ki and Jungwon rounded the corner, both breathless and laughing, carrying what looked like an entire box of dungbombs.

You froze. “Nope. Not happening. I don’t even want to know—”

But before you could finish, they grabbed you by the arms and dragged you into an alcove, whispering something about "keeping watch" while they set up their latest prank.

“Do I look like I want detention?” you hissed, glaring at them.

Ni-ki just grinned. “Come on, you’re part of the team now. This is bonding.”

“This is stupidity,” you shot back, though you reluctantly stood guard while they did whatever it was they were doing.

And then there was the time in the Great Hall. You were just trying to enjoy breakfast, eating your toast in peace, when suddenly a flock of enchanted paper cranes came swooping down from the ceiling, diving and swirling around the students. The Hall erupted into chaos as people swatted at the cranes, which were apparently charmed to sing obnoxiously off-key.

You didn’t need to look far to figure out who was responsible. Sure enough, Ni-ki and Jungwon were sitting a few seats away, barely holding back their laughter as they watched the scene unfold.

“You two are going to get expelled,” you muttered as you sat down next to them, shooting them both a glare.

“Worth it,” Ni-ki said, grinning as a crane landed on his shoulder.

“Totally worth it,” Jungwon agreed, taking a bite of his toast as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. Did you gravitate toward them or something? Because no matter how hard you tried to stay out of their messes, you always seemed to end up right in the middle of them.

And yet, despite the chaos, despite the rule-breaking, and despite the constant time spent in detention... you couldn’t help but laugh. They made it impossible not to.

You were generally just trying to mind your own business, walking through the dimly lit hallway near Filch’s office, when you spotted them.

Ni-ki and Jungwon stood just a few feet away, both leaning casually against the wall like they didn’t have a care in the world. Which would’ve been believable—if not for the way their eyes darted around like they were scanning for witnesses. They somehow looked both innocent and highly suspicious at the same time, a combination that never boded well.

Your instincts immediately kicked in: Turn around. Walk away. Pretend you didn’t see anything.

But, of course, luck wasn’t on your side.

Ni-ki’s head shot up, his sharp eyes catching you before you could even take a single step back. “Hey! You!” he called out, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

You groaned audibly, muttering, “Why me?”

Before you could say anything else, Ni-ki was already jogging over to you, his excitement practically radiating off him. “Come on, come on,” he said eagerly, grabbing your arm and tugging you toward Jungwon.

“Do I have to come?” you asked weakly, already knowing the answer.

Ni-ki didn’t even bother responding. He just pulled you along as you let out a resigned sigh, casting one last glance at the exit you’d never make it to.

When you finally reached Jungwon, you gave them both a pointed look. “Alright, what are you two planning this time?”

Jungwon didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he pulled out a folded piece of parchment, his grin spreading mischievously. Holding it in one hand, he drew his wand with the other.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” he said softly, his voice practically dripping with mischief as he tapped the parchment.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise as the blank parchment shimmered and began to transform, intricate lines and scribbles spreading across it like ink soaking into paper. A moment later, you realized it was a map—an incredibly detailed map of Hogwarts.

Your jaw dropped as you leaned closer, watching names begin to pop up across the surface, tiny dots moving around the corridors and rooms. Students, professors... even Filch and Mrs. Norris were labeled as they wandered the castle.

“What the—?!” you gasped, utterly shocked. “Where did you get this?”

Ni-ki leaned in close, his chin practically resting on your head. You felt his full weight press on your back as he grinned. “A trickster never reveals their secrets,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You grumbled in annoyance, trying to shove him off. “Will you get off me?”

He smirked, clearly enjoying your irritation, and stayed exactly where he was. Curse his height—and the fact that he was impossible to move when he didn’t want to be moved. With a resigned sigh, you let him rest there, shooting him a glare he just ignored.

Meanwhile, Jungwon pointed at the map, his grin taking on a distinctly cat-like quality. “Look,” he said, his finger tracing a path on the parchment.

You followed his gaze and froze. There, on the map, was Filch. He was several hallways away, but he was moving steadily in your general direction.

“Perfect,” Jungwon murmured, his grin widening as his eyes sparkled with mischief.

You gave him a wary look. “Why do I feel like I’m about to regret being here?”

“You’ll be fine,” Ni-ki said breezily, still leaning on you like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You’re one of us now, remember?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” you muttered under your breath, your eyes flicking back to the map as the ominous dot labeled Filch continued to move closer.

Whatever they were planning, you had a sinking feeling it was going to end with you all running for your lives. Again.

So you stood there in stunned silence, half-expecting to wake up from a bizarre dream, as Jungwon and Ni-ki expertly worked together like they had done this a thousand times before.

Jungwon was the distraction. With a flick of his wand, he whispered a Muffliato charm, ensuring Filch wouldn’t hear the chaos unfolding in his own office. Meanwhile, Ni-ki was crouched by the lock, muttering a soft Alohomora under his breath. The click of the door unlocking sent a pang of dread straight to your stomach.

"Are we seriously doing this?" you hissed, still frozen outside the office door.

Ni-ki smirked as he pushed it open. "Oh, we’re way past asking that question."

Before you could argue, Jungwon grabbed your arm and pulled you in, shutting the door behind you with a silent wave of his wand. You stared at them as they got to work.

Jungwon headed straight for Filch’s desk, pulling out drawers and rifling through papers like he was on a scavenger hunt. Meanwhile, Ni-ki found the confiscated items cabinet, letting out an impressed whistle as he examined its contents. “Wow, Filch really doesn’t like fun, huh? Half of this stuff is just Zonko’s products.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “You’re going to get us all expelled.”

“Correction,” Jungwon said without looking up. “We’ll only get expelled if we get caught.”

“Helpful,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms as you watched him pull out a particularly nasty-looking parchment.

“Ah-ha!” Jungwon exclaimed, holding up the paper triumphantly. “The list of confiscated items! This is gold. Imagine what we can do with this.”

You opened your mouth to ask what exactly he planned to do with it, but Ni-ki interrupted by shoving a colorful box in your hands. “Look at this! It’s one of those fireworks from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Filch had no business taking this away.”

Before you could respond, Ni-ki grabbed another handful of glittery objects from the cabinet and threw them into a sack he’d conjured from thin air. You groaned.

“And what are we going to do with all this stuff?” you asked, already dreading the answer.

Ni-ki gave you a mischievous grin, holding up a handful of confetti. “Oh, we have plans.”

The next thirty minutes were a blur of pure chaos.

Jungwon enchanted the ceiling to rain confetti every time someone entered the office. Ni-ki, on the other hand, seemed to have a vendetta against Filch’s desk, which was now buried under a mountain of glitter, enchanted to sparkle like a thousand stars under torchlight. You tried—really, you did—to stop them, but they ignored you completely, too caught up in their gleeful destruction.

“Oh, and this will be the pièce de résistance,” Ni-ki said, holding up a firework and sticking it in the middle of Filch’s desk like a centerpiece. “Timed to go off the moment he sits down.”

“Brilliant,” Jungwon agreed, stepping back to admire their handiwork with a proud smile.

You stared at the chaos surrounding you. Filch’s office looked like a carnival had exploded in it. Glitter covered every surface, the confetti charm was in full effect, and there were at least three forbidden spells buzzing quietly in the air.

“This is... insane,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“Insanely fun, you mean,” Ni-ki corrected, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, admit it. You’re impressed.”

“I’m horrified,” you shot back.

Jungwon checked the Marauder’s Map, his grin turning slightly panicked. “Uh, we should probably go. Filch is coming back.”

At that, Ni-ki straightened, grabbing the sack of confiscated items. “Alright, let’s move. You coming, partner-in-crime?” he asked, looking down at you with that maddening grin of his.

You groaned but followed as they bolted for the door, the three of you slipping out just in time. You could hear Filch’s grumbling in the distance as you sprinted down the hall.

When you finally stopped running, out of breath and covered in a faint layer of glitter, Ni-ki turned to you with a triumphant grin. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

Jungwon snorted. “Speak for yourself. Y/N was ready to disown us back there.”

You glared at them, pointing at the faint trail of glitter that followed you like a beacon. “We’re all getting detention if this doesn’t wash off.”

Ni-ki just shrugged, still grinning. “Worth it.”

You sighed, already preparing yourself for the next disaster they’d drag you into.

You never really expected to stay friends with them. Honestly, you didn’t even know when you had officially crossed the line into friendship—it just kind of happened. Despite being dragged into their mischief constantly, despite the headaches and the near-expulsions, they had somehow managed to carve a space in your life that you hadn’t realized.

And while they were an absolute menace most of the time, there were moments where they surprised you.

Like when you were stuck in the hospital wing after a particularly nasty Quidditch accident, and Ni-ki had snuck in late at night to bring you sweets he’d smuggled from the kitchens. “Thought you could use a little sugar rush,” he’d said with a grin, settling down at the edge of your bed like he planned to stay there all night.

Or the time you got a nasty grade on an essay in Transfiguration, and Jungwon, who had perfected the subject, had sat with you for hours helping you revise until you finally understood it. He’d teased you endlessly, of course, but he still patiently explained things, as though he believed in you even when you didn’t.

These small moments added up, painting a picture of your friendship that was as genuine as it was chaotic.

But what you didn’t know—what you couldn’t know—was that their feelings for you ran deeper than friendship.

The way Ni-ki’s teasing became just a little softer when it was directed at you. The way he always found an excuse to stand close, to brush against your shoulder or nudge you playfully, his gaze lingering on you when he thought you weren’t looking.

Or the way Jungwon seemed to falter around you in small ways. The way his eyes softened whenever you laughed, or the way his voice always lost a bit of its sharpness when he said your name.

Neither of them had admitted it—maybe not even to themselves—but it was there.

And you, completely unaware, continued to treat them like the troublemaking friends you’d grown so used to, never realizing the turmoil you were unknowingly causing in their hearts.

Eventually, the month was up, and the Polyjuice Potion had finally set.

Jungwon and Ni-ki, as eager as ever, wasted no time dragging you back into the secret passageway where they’d first revealed their ridiculous plan. You’d been half-hoping they’d forgotten about it, or maybe come to their senses, but judging by the gleam in their eyes, you knew better.

Jungwon carefully ladled some of the potion into a glass, the thick, murky liquid swirling ominously. The smell was awful—like burnt cabbage and old socks—and you couldn’t help but scrunch your nose in disgust.

"Are you sure about this?" you asked, eyeing the potion warily.

"Positive," Jungwon said, far too confidently for someone about to drink something that could very well land him in the hospital wing—or worse.

Ni-ki leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, grinning like this was the best entertainment he’d had all year. "Go on, Jungwon. Bottoms up."

With a deep breath and a glance at the both of you, Jungwon tipped the glass back and downed the potion in one swift gulp. Almost immediately, he doubled over, clutching his stomach as his body began to shift and change.

You and Ni-ki stepped back instinctively, watching in both awe and horror as Jungwon’s dark hair lightened to a sandy brown, his frame stretched slightly taller, and his features rearranged themselves into something alarmingly familiar.

When he straightened up, you found yourself face-to-face with the Gryffindor prefect.

"What," you said flatly, blinking at him as your brain struggled to process what you were seeing.

Jungwon—now looking and sounding exactly like the Gryffindor prefect—grinned. "What do you think? Pretty convincing, huh?"

You stared at him, dumbfounded. "You’re him. You’re literally him."

Ni-ki let out a loud laugh, slapping his knee. "This is incredible. You even nailed his ‘holier-than-thou’ smirk." He clapped his hands together, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. "Absolutely flawless. Ten out of ten. You could fool anyone."

Still reeling, you turned to Ni-ki, your voice rising. "What is this plan, exactly? What are you two planning to do now that Jungwon looks like the Gryffindor prefect?"

Ni-ki’s grin widened, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, right. About that…" He stepped closer, lowering his voice as though he were about to share the world’s best-kept secret.

You crossed your arms, waiting impatiently.

"We," he began, drawing out the word dramatically, "are going to change the Gryffindor common room password."

You blinked. "You made me brew a highly risky potion—risked detention and possible expulsion just to change the password to the Gryffindor common room?"

"Exactly!" Ni-ki exclaimed, throwing his hands up as if to emphasize his point. "Gryffindor’s been unbearable ever since they won the last Quidditch match. Rubbing it in everyone’s faces, strutting around like they’re the kings of the castle—"

Jungwon, now examining his new appearance in a nearby reflective surface, chimed in, "Which they’re not, by the way."

Ni-ki shrugged, completely unapologetic. "It’s payback. Justice if you would say."

Jungwon, nodded solemnly. "It’s about the principle."

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. "You two are insane. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ll be in if you get caught?"

Ni-ki leaned closer, a smirk tugging at his lips. "That’s why we won’t get caught."

"Uh-huh," you deadpanned, entirely unconvinced. "And if the real Gryffindor prefect shows up?"

Ni-ki waved you off. "That’s why we’ve got a lookout."

"Who’s the lookout?" you asked warily.

Ni-ki gave you a pointed look, his grin widening mischievously.

"No," you said immediately, stepping back. "Absolutely not. I am not going to be the lookout for this ridiculous plan."

"Come on," Ni-ki whined, grabbing your arm and giving you a pleading look. "You’re the only one we trust for the job. Plus, you’re great at pretending you don’t know us if things go south."

"That’s not a compliment," you snapped, but Ni-ki just laughed.

"Please!!!" Jungwon said, and despite the fact that his face wasn’t his own, his tone was still undeniably his. "We need you."

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. They were absolutely impossible. Still, as much as you wanted to walk away and leave them to their ridiculous plan, you knew you wouldn’t. "I can’t believe I’m even here for this."

Ni-ki slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "Come on, Y/N. Where’s your sense of adventure?"

"Buried under my sense of self-preservation," you muttered, but neither of them seemed to care.

"Boooring!" Ni-ki said immediately, grabbing your shoulders and steering you toward the entrance of the secret passage. "Now, let’s go. We’ve got a password to change."

You groaned, already regretting every life choice that had led you to this moment.

You all snuck out of the astronomy tower heading toward the Gryffindor Tower with hushed footsteps and quick glances over your shoulders. Jungwon—still posing as the Gryffindor prefect—was striding ahead with a perfect air of authority, his shoulders squared, and his expression sharp.

You and Ni-ki, on the other hand, trailed behind him with exaggeratedly guilty faces.

"Slouch more," Jungwon hissed over his shoulder, his voice clipped and stern. "You’re supposed to look like you’ve been caught red-handed."

"I am slouching!" Ni-ki shot back in a loud whisper, looking offended. "I’m a professional at looking guilty, thank you very much."

You rolled your eyes, muttering, "Not exactly something to be proud of, Ni-ki."

Ni-ki ignored you, but when a group of Gryffindor students turned the corner, his whole demeanor changed in an instant. He widened his eyes, hung his head, and even dragged his feet slightly, looking every bit the part of a student who’d just been caught in the act of breaking the rules.

Jungwon glared at you both, his performance flawless. "I can’t believe the two of you thought stealing sweets from the kitchens was a good idea," he said in a loud, scolding tone that echoed through the corridor.

You couldn’t help but cringe at his words. The act was working. The group of Gryffindor students didn’t even give you a second glance as they walked by, probably assuming you were just another pair of troublemakers getting told off by a prefect.

As soon as the students disappeared around the corner, Ni-ki snickered, nudging you with his elbow. "See? We’re naturals."

"Or completely insane," you shot back, still uneasy about the whole plan.

Jungwon, still fully in character, glanced back at you both with a dramatic sigh. "Would you two focus? We’re almost there."

You tried to steady your nerves as you approached the portrait of the Fat Lady guarding the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Jungwon cleared his throat, adjusted his posture, and stepped forward, looking every bit the part of the Gryffindor prefect he was impersonating.

The Fat Lady’s eyes opened, and she squinted down at him. "Oh, it’s you. Back already?" she asked, her tone laced with curiosity.

"Yes," Jungwon replied smoothly, his voice mimicking the prefect’s perfectly. "I need to update the password."

You blinked, silently impressed at how calm and composed he sounded.

The Fat Lady raised an eyebrow. "Password? I wasn’t informed about any changes."

"It was a last-minute decision," Jungwon said with an air of authority. "The headmaster’s orders. You know how these things go."

The Fat Lady hummed, clearly hesitant but not suspicious enough to question him further. "All right, then. What’s the new password?"

Jungwon hesitated for the briefest moment before glancing back at Ni-ki, who grinned like the Cheshire Cat and mouthed, Quidditch losers.

Jungwon’s lips twitched in amusement before he turned back to the Fat Lady, his expression serious. "The new password is... Quidditch glory."

You bit back a snort, realizing Jungwon had changed Ni-ki’s suggestion at the last second to make it less obvious.

The Fat Lady sighed dramatically, as if she had better things to do, and said, "Fine. Password updated. You may enter."

"Thank you," Jungwon said politely, though he made no move to actually enter the common room.

As soon as the portrait swung open, revealing the cozy Gryffindor common room beyond, Jungwon turned to the both of you, a victorious grin spreading across his borrowed face.

"Mission accomplished," he whispered.

"That was way too easy," Ni-ki muttered, his grin matching Jungwon’s.

You crossed your arms, glaring at them both. "You’re absolutely ridiculous. You know that, right?"

"Maybe," Jungwon said with a shrug, still grinning as he gestured for you both to follow him back down the corridor. "But you can’t deny it was brilliant."

While the three of you hurried away from the Gryffindor Tower, you couldn’t help but feel reluctant admiration. They’d actually pulled it off.

The three of you had just barely made it to the dungeon when Ni-ki abruptly stopped in his tracks, throwing his arms out dramatically. Unfortunately, you and Jungwon were too close behind him to react in time, and the result was a chaotic collision that sent all three of you toppling to the floor in a heap of limbs and groans.

"Ni-ki, what the hell?!" Jungwon hissed, his voice low but seething as he tried to untangle himself from the mess. "Why did you stop—"

Ni-ki clamped a hand over Jungwon’s mouth, his eyes wide with panic. "Shh!" he whispered harshly, pointing down the corridor.

You followed his gaze and felt your stomach drop. There, standing just ahead, were the Gryffindor prefect and Snape. Talking together.

Oops.

Jungwon immediately shut up, his annoyance replaced by alarm. The three of you scrambled to your feet in a flurry of panic, trying not to make a sound. Without wasting a moment, Ni-ki and Jungwon each grabbed one of your arms and dragged you into the shadows, finding a small alcove to hide in.

Before you could even catch your breath, you were being pressed up against the cold stone wall, Ni-ki and Jungwon on either side of you, their bodies shielding you from view.

"Could you two not squish me?" you muttered under your breath, glaring up at them.

"Would you rather get caught by Snape?" Ni-ki shot back, not taking his eyes off the corridor as he peeked out nervously. "No? Then shut it."

You huffed but stayed quiet, noticing how tense Ni-ki’s shoulders were. He was keeping a sharp eye on Snape and the prefect, ready to make a run for it if needed.

Meanwhile, Jungwon, who was on your other side, was shifting uncomfortably. You glanced up at him and froze when you noticed his face. His features were no longer those of the Gryffindor prefect—they were morphing back into his own, the effects of the Polyjuice Potion clearly wearing off.

Jungwon groaned softly, clutching his stomach as he leaned forward, pressing his face into the crook of your neck for support. You stiffened at the sudden closeness, your hand instinctively patting his back in a futile attempt to comfort him.

"Jungwon," you whispered, worried. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," he mumbled against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "Just... feels weird."

"Ugh, you’re so dramatic," Ni-ki muttered, glancing back at you two briefly before turning his attention back to the corridor. "You’ll be fine in like two seconds. Just don’t throw up on—"

"Ni-ki, shut up," Jungwon snapped, though his voice was muffled against your neck.

You sighed, your free hand still awkwardly patting his back. "This is ridiculous," you muttered under your breath.

"I hereby declare that is your everyday quote," Ni-ki quipped with a smirk, though his expression quickly turned serious as he peeked out again. "They’re still there. Snape looks like he’s about to murder someone—wait, no that’s just his normal face expression."

Jungwon groaned again, and you felt him lean more of his weight against you. Curse his height. He wasn’t heavy, but having him this close was flustering you more than you wanted to admit.

"Okay, seriously," you hissed, glaring at Ni-ki, "can we not just stay here forever? Do something!"

"Oh sure," Ni-ki whispered sarcastically, glancing back at you with an incredulous look. "Why don’t I just go up to Snape and ask him how his day was? Brilliant plan."

"Ni-ki, I swear—"

"Guys," Jungwon interrupted, his voice steadier now. He finally pulled back from your neck, his features fully his own again. He stood up straight, though he still looked a little pale. "I think they’re leaving."

All three of you froze, holding your breaths as you listened. Sure enough, the sound of Snape’s low voice and the prefect’s murmured responses grew fainter, followed by the faint echo of footsteps retreating down the corridor.

Ni-ki let out a dramatic sigh of relief. "Finally. I thought we were done for."

Jungwon rubbed his face, still looking a little worse for wear. "That was way too close."

"You think?" you said, glaring at them both. "If we’d been caught, I would’ve been the one blamed, thanks to you two dragging me into this mess."

"Aw, but you love us," Ni-ki said with a cheeky grin, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes. "I’m seriously reconsidering that."

Jungwon smirked, finally looking a bit more like himself again. "Come on, let’s get out of here before someone else shows up."

And just as Jungwon finished speaking, the grating, maniacal laughter of Peeves echoed through the corridor. The sound made all three of you freeze, and before you could react, the troublemaking poltergeist popped out of the stone floor with a giggle, his mischievous eyes gleaming.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Peeves crooned, eyeing the three of you with a grin. His voice echoed off the walls, and you couldn't help but feel a slight chill. "My favorite students, looking so cozy together. What’s the occasion?"

You all exchanged a glance, not sure whether to run or stay. Jungwon narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to look unbothered, while Ni-ki rolled his eyes dramatically. "What do you want, Peeves?" he asked, arms crossing over his chest.

Peeves floated around you, his presence more annoying than anything. "Oh, nothing much," he said, his voice high-pitched with glee. "Just wondered if you’ve got any new pranks up your sleeves, eh? Or is it something more... personal going on here?" He wiggled his eyebrows, a knowing smirk plastered on his face.

Ni-ki glanced at Jungwon and then shrugged. "We’ll tell you when the time comes," he said, clearly uninterested in revealing too much to the troublesome ghost.

But Peeves wasn't done yet. His eyes gleamed with mischief as he started to circle the three of you like a hawk. "Oh, I see!" he giggled, pointing a bony finger at each of you in turn. "Someone's got tension!" He practically cackled with delight, floating in a circle around you as he grinned widely. "Little love triangle, eh? How exciting! You two," he pointed at Jungwon and Ni-ki, "are practically glued to her, and they can’t get enough of you! Is this the new prank? Get caught up in a web of romantic mischief? Oh, I can’t wait to see how this plays out!"

You groaned, your face burning as both Jungwon and Ni-ki tensed up, eyes widening in response.

Peeves continued to cackle as he floated higher, his laughter echoing down the hall. "I’ll be keeping an eye on you, my favorite troublemakers! I’ll be back for the show!" With a final teasing wink, Peeves disappeared through the stone wall with a loud, echoing "Whee!"

You let out a deep sigh, your embarrassment palpable. Jungwon was rubbing his forehead in frustration, and Ni-ki simply looked amused, though there was a hint of irritation in his eyes.

"I swear, Peeves will be the death of us," Jungwon muttered, shaking his head as he turned back to you.

You couldn't help but laugh, despite everything.

And with that, the three of you slipped out of the alcove and hurried back toward the Slytherin common room, your heart still pounding from the close call.

The prank ended exactly how you’d expected—utter chaos.

A horde of Gryffindors had been locked out of their common room for hours, their frustration echoing down the corridors. The Fat Lady was flustered beyond belief, huffing indignantly about how her painting had been “tampered with,” and the Gryffindor prefect was storming through the castle, barking out accusations with a vengeance.

McGonagall’s sharp eyes had swept through the Great Hall during dinner, suspicion evident in her expression as she tried to pinpoint the culprits. Somehow, though, by some miracle, you, Jungwon, and Ni-ki had remained completely unnoticed.

The three of you had kept your heads down and your poker faces on, acting as if you didn’t have a single clue what had happened. You couldn’t believe you’d gotten away with it. Again.

Which is exactly what you were currently discussing as you stood in Zonko’s Joke Shop, watching Jungwon and Ni-ki carefully examine the shelves for their next batch of mischief supplies.

"I still don’t understand how we weren’t caught," you said, leaning casually against the display of dungbombs as you crossed your arms. "McGonagall knew something was up."

"That’s because we’re geniuses," Ni-ki said without looking up from the Extendable Ears he was inspecting. "Obviously."

You snorted. "Right, because geniuses trip over their own feet and nearly get us caught in the process."

"Hey!" Ni-ki turned to you with an exaggerated look of offense. "I saved us. My quick thinking is the only reason we got out of there alive."

"Your quick thinking?" Jungwon interjected, holding up a Puking Pastille for inspection. "I’m pretty sure my plan got us through the whole thing. You just stood there looking like a lost Kneazle."

Ni-ki huffed and turned his attention back to the shelf. "You’re both ungrateful. I should stop sharing my brilliance with you."

"Brilliance, huh?" you teased, smirking as you reached over to nudge him. "That’s what we’re calling it now?"

Ni-ki shot you a mock glare but didn’t move away. In fact, he leaned into you more, resting his elbow lazily on your shoulder as if you were his personal armrest.

You tried to shrug him off. "Ni-ki, get off me. I’m not furniture."

He grinned, leaning his weight on you even more. "But you’re so sturdy and reliable."

"Sturdy and reliable," you repeated flatly. "That’s it. You’re banned from using me as a leaning post."

"You love it," he teased, winking at you.

Meanwhile, Jungwon was completely unbothered, now inspecting a box of Screaming Yo-yos. "You’re letting him get away with that?" he said without looking up.

"I’ve given up," you replied, sighing dramatically.

"You should’ve given up a long time ago," Jungwon said with a chuckle. Then, as if on cue, he reached over and started playing with a strand of your hair, twirling it between his fingers.

"Seriously?" you muttered, glancing between them.

Jungwon just smirked, not stopping as he held your gaze. "What? I’m bored."

"You two are impossible," you grumbled, though you didn’t actually make any effort to stop either of them. This was normal. It was just how things were.

As you scanned the shelves, you spotted a few products that caught your eye. Grinning mischievously, you a few different materials like a pack of Decoy Detonators.

"That’s what you’re going with?" Ni-ki asked, glancing at your choices.

"At least I’m not taking twenty minutes to pick a single product," you shot back, raising an eyebrow at the two of them.

"Hey, these decisions are important," Jungwon said, tossing the Screaming Yo-yos into his own pile.

"Right," you said, rolling your eyes. "Because you totally need three different kinds of itching powder."

"You’ll thank us later," Ni-ki said confidently.

"Oh, I’m sure," you replied dryly, though you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

"Y/N," Ni-ki called dramatically, spinning toward you with a packet of Nose-Biting Teacups in his hand. "Do you think I should get this? Imagine serving tea to Professor Snape. A little nibble on the nose might do him some good."

You snorted. "Yeah, if you want to end up scrubbing cauldrons for the rest of the year. I’m not covering for you if you actually go through with that."

"Don’t lie. You’d do it," he said, grinning as he nudged your side with his elbow.

"You’d fold in two seconds if he gave you the look," Jungwon added, smirking as he placed a jar of Self-Inking Quills into his growing pile of products.

"Excuse me," you shot back, crossing your arms. "I’ve never folded. Unlike you two. Don’t think I forgot about the time Snape caught you both in the Potions classroom after hours, and you blamed it on Peeves."

"That was a solid plan," Ni-ki argued, placing a hand on his chest like he was offended.

Jungwon snorted. "It wasn’t a plan at all. You just blurted the first thing that came to your mind."

"And it worked," Ni-ki shot back defensively. "He didn’t question it, did he?"

"That’s because Peeves actually caused a ruckus ten minutes later," you said, shaking your head.

Ni-ki grinned mischievously. "What can I say? I’m lucky like that."

"Lucky, my foot," Jungwon muttered, shaking his head as he turned to you. "Be honest—who’s the bigger liability between the two of us?"

You paused, tilting your head as if you were seriously considering the question. "Do I have to pick just one? Because you’re both pretty equally—"

"Oi!" Ni-ki interrupted, poking your arm. "Traitor!"

Jungwon smirked, clearly enjoying your response. "I knew it. We’re a team of liabilities. Perfect."

"Speak for yourselves," you retorted, pretending to brush off your clothes in mock pride. "I’m the only one who’s remotely responsible here."

"Responsible? You?" Ni-ki raised an eyebrow, feigning disbelief. "Let’s rewind to the time you accidentally lit a cauldron on fire in Charms class."

"That was one time," you argued, glaring at him. "And it wasn’t my fault! You’re the one who—"

"See?" Jungwon cut in, smirking as he held up a hand to stop you. "The cauldron was calling you a black sheep."

"More like the cauldron was calling me innocent," you quipped back, earning laughs from both of them.

Ni-ki slung an arm around your shoulders, grinning widely. "You’re hilarious when you’re trying to defend yourself, you know that?"

You rolled your eyes but didn’t shrug him off. "And you’re insufferable, but here we are."

"See? That’s why we like you," Jungwon said, giving you a small, playful smile as he tapped your forehead lightly with the end of a Decoy Detonator box.

You narrowed your eyes at him, reaching up to swat his hand away. "I feel so honored. Truly."

The three of you dissolved into laughter again, the teasing bouncing between you like a well-practiced routine.

"Alright, mischief-makers," you said finally, glancing at their overflowing piles of joke products. "Are we done here? Or are you planning to bankrupt yourselves buying the entire shop?"

Ni-ki grinned, holding up a box of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. "This? Totally worth going broke for."

"And this," Jungwon added, lifting a set of Decoy Detonators, "is going to make next week very interesting."

You did not doubt it.

That week was very interesting indeed. Not only did Ni-ki and Jungwon set up prank after prank, but they also enlisted Peeves in some of them, which turned everything more chaotic.

One day, they filled the Great Hall with floating soap bubbles that burst into confetti whenever they popped, sending the entire school into fits of laughter (or groans, depending on the person).

However, amidst the chaos, Ni-ki and Jungwon had forgotten a major thing: studying.

By the time they realized it, they were behind on a lot of assignments and homework in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Divination, Muggle Studies, and History of Magic. The weight of their neglected schoolwork loomed over them, and the urgency to catch up finally hit.

So, what did they do to catch up? Well, they obviously asked you for help! You, who were currently in the library, reading up on Arithmancy.

You were deeply engrossed in your book when you heard footsteps approaching. Glancing up, you saw Ni-ki and Jungwon, looking sheepish and a bit desperate.

“y/n! Our sweet little genius prodigy,” Ni-ki started, sliding into the seat across from you. Jungwon took the seat next to him, both of them looking at you with pleading eyes.

“Yes?” you replied, raising an eyebrow. You had a feeling you knew where this was going.

“We need your help,” Jungwon admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re really behind on our assignments. Like, really behind.”

You sighed, closing your book and giving them both a stern look. “You know, if you spent half as much time studying as you do planning pranks, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Ni-ki pouted. “But studying isn’t nearly as fun.”

“Maybe not,” you conceded, “but it’s kind of necessary if you don’t want to fail.”

“We know,” Jungwon said quickly. “That’s why we’re here. You’re the best at all of this stuff, and we need your help to catch up. Please?”

You looked between the two of them, their eyes wide with genuine desperation.

“Alright,” you said finally after a moment, earning relieved smiles from both of them. “I’ll help you. But this means no more pranks for a while. Deal?”

“Deal,” they chorused eagerly.

“Okay then,” you said, pulling out your notes and books. “Let’s get to work.”

For the next several hours, you worked with Ni-ki and Jungwon, helping them catch up on their assignments. You explained concepts, went over notes, and even quizzed them to make sure they understood the material. It was a long process, but by the end of the day, they had made significant progress.

"You’re a miracle worker, honeydrop. We’d probably be in detention without you." Jungwon chuckled, shoving his parchment into his bag.

"Probably?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, definitely," he corrected with a sheepish grin.

"Just don’t expect me to do this every time," you warned, standing up and gathering your things. "Next time, you’re on your own."

Ni-ki threw an arm around your shoulders as you walked out of the library together. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, doll."

You rolled your eyes at the casual nickname, though you didn’t bother shrugging his arm off—it was just his way of being overly familiar. “I’m serious. If I catch you two sneaking off to pull another prank before you’ve finished at least one essay, I’m not helping you anymore.”

“Duly noted,” Ni-ki replied smoothly, though his grin said otherwise. He squeezed your shoulder playfully. “But you have to admit, life would be so boring without us.”

“Boring?” you shot back, looking up at him incredulously. “I’d actually have time to focus on my own work without you two dragging me into whatever chaos you’ve cooked up.”

Jungwon laughed softly from your other side. “Oh, come on. You love it. Admit it. Deep down, you’d miss us if we left you alone for more than a day.”

You didn’t answer immediately, instead giving them a sidelong glance. “Maybe I’d miss the pranks more,” you teased, earning matching gasps of mock offense from both boys.

Ni-ki stopped in his tracks, clutching his chest dramatically. “Ouch. Right in the heart, doll.”

Jungwon smirked, tilting his head. “She’s lying. Look at her—she’s smiling. That’s the face of someone who couldn’t survive without us.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small grin tugging at your lips. “If you’re trying to flatter yourselves, you’re doing a terrible job.”

Ni-ki leaned closer, his face just a little too smug. “We don’t need to flatter ourselves, doll. We know we’re your favorite people in the world.”

“Favorite headaches, maybe,” you retorted, shoving his arm off your shoulders. He stumbled back, laughing, while Jungwon gave you an approving nod.

“She’s catching on,” Jungwon said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Soon enough, she’ll be the one dragging us into trouble.”

You snorted. “Not likely. I’ve already got my hands full with you two.”

The next few days were oddly peaceful, given the usual chaos that surrounded Ni-ki and Jungwon. You found yourself spending more time in the library with them, helping them catch up on homework, and surprisingly, they actually stayed focused—most of the time. Though, that didn’t stop them from sneaking in their usual brand of teasing. Because they kept finding ways to distract you. Ni-ki, as usual, was the first to break the silence.

"You're pretty good at this stuff, huh?" he murmured, stretching lazily beside you. His hand casually brushed against your thigh, and he rested his arm there like it was the most normal thing in the world. "How come you're so smart and yet still hang out with us? Makes no sense."

You glanced at him, trying to keep your cool. "I don't mind," you answered, your voice surprisingly steady despite how flustered his touch was making you. "Besides, someone has to keep you two in check."

Jungwon, who had been silently working on his own homework beside you, suddenly lifted his head. His soft exhale brushed against your neck as he settled his face there, huffing dramatically. "Ugh, Herbology is impossible. How do you even remember all these plants and their properties? It’s like a nightmare." He whined, his voice muffled against your skin.

You stiffened at his proximity, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. "I don't know," you muttered, trying to ignore the way his body pressed against yours. "I just study."

"Yeah, but you’re really good at it," Jungwon murmured, not moving away. He let his lips brush against your neck for a moment, and you could feel your face heat up instantly.

Meanwhile, Ni-ki hadn't missed the opportunity. He leaned even closer, his hand subtly shifting on your thigh as he whispered, "We should study more with you. You make it so fun."

You shot him a warning glance, but he just grinned back, unbothered. "You’re making me sound like a distraction, you know," you said, trying to focus on your notes again, though your concentration was rapidly slipping away.

Jungwon grinned against your neck. "Oh, you are a distraction. But you're a good kind of distraction."

Before you could protest, Ni-ki leaned in closer, resting his head on your shoulder with a dramatic sigh. "We’re your favorite chaos, right?" he said, his voice teasing but sincere.

Despite the flurry of butterflies in your stomach, you couldn’t help but smile. "You two are definitely something," you said, trying to sound unaffected even as your heart raced. "But I really need to get this done."

You really tried to ignore the two heads resting against your shoulders, but that was an impossible task. Ni-ki’s breath was warm against your skin, and his hand was still resting on your thigh, now with an almost casual possessiveness. Jungwon, on the other hand, was so close his soft exhalations tickled the nape of your neck, and his cheek was pressed lightly against yours as he hummed in contentment.

Despite your best efforts to focus on your work, it was becoming increasingly difficult. The pages in front of you blurred as your heart rate picked up. The library now felt suffocating, and you realized that it wasn’t just the assignment that had your attention—it was the way they were both so close, almost invading your space in a way that made it impossible to concentrate.

"Are you actually going to study?" Ni-ki murmured, his voice low and teasing, but you could hear the undercurrent of something more in it. His fingers shifted slightly, brushing your leg in a way that made you stiffen, but you didn’t pull away. You were almost too aware of how your body reacted to them.

Jungwon, seemingly oblivious to your internal turmoil, nuzzled closer against your neck, his soft, slow breaths doing nothing to help you stay calm. “I think I’m helping you study,” he said in that playful tone of his, making you shiver. “Us being this close will help you focus, right?”

Your pulse quickened at the thought. You hadn’t been aware of the shifting dynamic until now—of how their subtle touches, the way they leaned into you, seemed to be becoming more than just playful teasing. Every little move felt like an invitation for more, and you were quickly losing the battle to stay composed.

"Guys," you said, attempting to sound stern, though the breathlessness in your voice betrayed you. "You’re making it impossible to study like this."

They didn’t move. They didn’t even respond with words, but you could feel the weight of their attention on you. Ni-ki’s grip on your thigh tightened slightly, and Jungwon pressed his nose gently against your underjaw, both of them silently daring you to pull away.

But you didn’t. And that was what surprised you the most—how you didn’t mind the closeness, how you didn’t want to push them away.

"Maybe we can help you concentrate in other ways," Ni-ki whispered, his voice lowering with an edge of amusement, and you could feel him grinning against your skin.

You let out a shaky breath, knowing that with them, studying was the last thing you were going to accomplish today.

They were like two koalas clinging to you, making it so hard to think clearly. Every time you shifted, Ni-ki would let out a soft sigh, his fingers grazing your thigh, and Jungwon would press his face more firmly into the crook of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

Your handwriting became more erratic as you tried to force yourself to write, but your focus kept drifting back to them, they were distracting in the best and worst way. You tried to shift slightly, attempting to get some space, but instead, they just adjusted and got even closer.

"You’re really not gonna study, are you?" Ni-ki's voice was a low tease, his chin now resting on your shoulder as he looked at your textbook with a mock frown. His fingers tracing little patterns against your thigh.

Jungwon, still in his spot on your neck, let out a small hum of agreement. "I think we’re doing more for your concentration than you give us credit for."

You were about to protest, but then Jungwon shifted slightly, brushing his lips against your ear as he murmured, "You’re so tense. Are we making you nervous?" His voice was soft, but the way he said it made your pulse quicken. You could practically feel the smirk on his lips.

Ni-ki chuckled at your reaction, the sound vibrating through his chest. "You’re cute when you try to act unaffected." His hand squeezed your thigh gently, adding more heat to the already overwhelming situation.

It was getting hard to think, let alone focus on your homework. You couldn’t deny how their touches made your heart race, how the closeness felt different than it ever had before. You were surrounded by them—so close, so intimate in a way that felt almost too personal, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to move them off.

Instead, you sighed, giving up on trying to study. "You two are unbelivable," you muttered, but there was no real heat in your words. They were both too close, too comfortable, and the way they looked at you, the way they made you feel, left you unsure if you wanted them to stop.

Ni-ki grinned at your words, his hand moving slowly up your leg. "Good, we’re making progress," he teased, leaning in close. "You needed a break anyway."

Jungwon, now pulling away just enough to meet your gaze, smiled warmly. "We’ll help you out. Maybe not with homework, but definitely with...other things."

As they both made themselves even more comfortable, you were stuck between wanting to push them away and wanting to stay right where you were.

You had no idea what had gotten into them, but you also weren’t quite sure what had gotten into you. They had always been the ones to tease and be touchy, but now, as they both clung to you, you realized you could play along—maybe even enjoy it. Without thinking too much, you let the playful side of you take over.

You moved just slightly, letting your fingers brush against Ni-ki’s arm as you leaned back into him, and before he could respond, you slid your hand down to his wrist, just enough to make him pause. He looked at you, slightly taken aback by the sudden shift in dynamics. His usual confident smirk faltered for just a second before he recovered, but you could tell he wasn’t expecting it.

You smiled innocently back, leaning into Jungwon next, letting your fingers trace along his jawline with a teasing touch. His breath hitched ever so slightly, his eyes locking with yours, and you saw the flustered warmth creeping up his neck. He leaned into your touch, just like he had done with you so many times before, but now you could feel him melt under your fingertips.

"Guess we’re not the only ones getting touchy, huh?" Ni-ki teased, his voice light, but there was a nervous edge to it now as his breath caught when you moved your hand to his shoulder, massaging it lightly.

Jungwon, still resting against you, let out a shaky laugh, but his voice was softer, almost breathless. "You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?"

You raised an eyebrow, keeping your hand on his chest for a moment, letting your fingers play with the fabric of his shirt. "You’re the ones who started it," you said, your voice low and playful, but with an underlying challenge in it.

You felt their reactions before you even saw them clearly—the way their breaths became more shallow, the way their eyes widened with surprise and something else.

Ni-ki’s lips parted as you moved your hand lower, and you noticed his usual teasing grin soften into something more real. He didn’t know how to respond to this change in the atmosphere, and for a moment, you reveled in the power of it. Jungwon, too, was a little quieter now, his hand moving to rest on your other thigh, fingers just brushing lightly, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to act but didn’t want to pull away either.

They were both flustered, unsure of how to navigate the space you’d suddenly put them in. You could feel them melt under your touch, their usual confidence slipping away with each movement you made. You had the power now, and it was a strange feeling—seeing them both so lost in this little game you were playing.

"Well?" you asked, a playful smirk tugging at your lips as you leaned back into them. "Aren’t you two gonna study? Or am i too distracting?"

Ni-ki chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, his usual charm faltering just slightly. "Guess we’ve got some competition now."

Jungwon, on the other hand, gave a soft sigh, his face flushed. "I think we might be in over our heads."

You had the upper hand now.

And you took full advantage of it.

After that day in the library, you couldn’t help but notice how completely Jungwon and Ni-ki would fall into your rhythm. They were practically putty in your hands. Every touch, no matter how small, sent them into a flurry of reactions—flushed cheeks, quiet sighs, soft whines when you weren’t paying attention to them. They’d melt at even the smallest gesture from you. Whether it was brushing their arm casually or stealing a glance, it was as if they couldn’t get enough. Every ounce of attention you gave them, they greedily soaked it up, and you relished in that power, in knowing you could make them act this way. Knowing you were the only person that could make them act this way.

They were so used to being the ones in control, but now it seemed they couldn’t stop themselves from doing whatever you wanted. It was almost comical how quickly they fell into line, but also a little thrilling. You were the one holding the strings now, and they seemed perfectly content to follow wherever you led.

And of course, your friends had noticed. You weren't sure how you didn't see it earlier, but Yuna, Hannie, Karina, Yujin, and Leeseo had all caught on. They’d managed to sneak you away from Jungwon and Ni-ki one afternoon, a tactic you recognized as them giving you a moment of peace away from them.

You sat in a quiet corner of the courtyard with them, all of them looking at you with knowing grins, their eyes twinkling with mischief and curiosity.

“So,” Yuna began, leaning forward with an exaggerated whisper, “spill. What’s going on between you and those two?”

Hannie smirked, arms crossed, “Yeah, you've got them wrapped around your finger. It’s so obvious.”

You blinked, suddenly feeling put on the spot. “I don’t know what you mean,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, but your heart skipped a beat. Were they really so obvious?

Leeseo leaned in, her voice playful. “Come on, don’t pretend. Jungwon and Ni-ki have been practically following you around like lost pets. It’s cute, but we’re curious. What’s going on?”

Karina raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t think you had it in you, honestly. Those two are impossible to keep up with. But somehow, you’ve got them so... docile.”

You let out a breath, finally breaking into a sheepish smile. “It just kind of... happened. They started getting clingy, and I just played along. And now? I don’t know. They’re just... there.”

Yujin grinned, tapping her fingers on the table. “You know, they’ve been doing everything you say. I saw Ni-ki nearly burn his potions notes because you told him to stop distracting you. It’s like watching a puppy trying to be obedient.”

Hannie chuckled. “So, they’re melting under your touch, huh?”

You couldn’t help the blush creeping onto your face as the realization hit you. “Maybe,” you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed, but also a little proud.

“Are you sure it’s just them being clingy?” Yuna asked, her tone teasing. “I mean, they’ve been following you around for years.”

You sighed, looking around at your friends’ grinning faces, knowing you couldn’t get away with playing innocent anymore. “I guess... maybe I do. But it’s not like I’m doing it on purpose. They just—"

“They just can’t resist you,” Karina finished for you, smirking. “Come on, don’t act like you haven’t noticed.”

It was clear your friends were having way too much fun with this, but honestly, you weren’t sure if you could deny it any longer. You’d noticed how they seemed to change when they were around you. Jungwon would act like he couldn’t wait to do anything you asked, and Ni-ki? He’d become all soft and affectionate, which was unlike him.

“It’s okay, though,” Yujin said, her voice light. “We’re not judging you. We just want to know when you’re finally going to admit it.”

You raised your hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Maybe I have a little bit of power over them. But I’m not making a big deal out of it.”

They all laughed, clearly not believing you. You were probably just as entertained as they were by how much you could get away with. But as you looked at the amused faces around you, you also felt a little something stir in your chest. A strange mix of pride and something else.

You were, without a doubt, in control of the situation now. But what you didn’t know was just how much longer that power would last before things got a little... more complicated.

And it did get complicated.

Before, they had been clingy, constantly around you, leaning on you, making their presence known. But now? Now, they were acting possessive. They’d follow you everywhere, make sure they were always by your side, and the glares they shot at any male student who got too close to you? Intense. It wasn’t just playful teasing anymore. It was like they were marking their territory without saying a word.

And that’s when it hit you.

All of this? It wasn’t just the usual chaos and fun. They liked you. They had to. No one acts like this unless they do.

But you weren’t sure. Not completely. You needed confirmation. And the best way to confirm a suspicion like this? You’d seen it done before in the most dramatic ways—jealousy. If they were really into you, you were certain they wouldn’t just sit back and let you spend time with someone else. They'd react, and you’d get your answer.

So, with that thought in mind, you decided to test this theory. What better way to do that than to make them confess in a fit of jealousy?

You didn’t want to hurt anyone, of course, but it was the only way to make sure. And you wouldn’t have to do it alone, which is where your two male friends, Jeongin and Jaehyun, came in. You trusted them, and they owed you a favor or two after all the times you’d helped them in the past.

The plan was simple—at least, in theory. You'd spend some time with Jeongin and Jaehyun, just enough to make Jungwon and Ni-ki notice. You knew they’d be watching. They always were, especially since the two of them had started acting this way. And once they did? Well, that would be when the fireworks started.

You carefully explained everything to Jeongin and Jaehyun, who both agreed to help you. They were on board, teasing you about how entertaining it would be to see how Jungwon and Ni-ki would react. Jeongin even joked that he could make them both "lose their minds." You weren’t sure if he was joking or not, but you were counting on him to keep it lighthearted.

The next day, the plan was set into motion. You’d intentionally sit next to Jeongin and Jaehyun in the grandhall, laughing at their jokes and engaging in casual conversation. You knew Jungwon and Ni-ki would be nearby, watching closely, their eyes following your every move. And, sure enough, the second you laughed too loud or shared a casual touch with Jeongin, you saw the shift.

Ni-ki's smirk faltered for a second before he looked away, crossing his arms tightly, his eyes narrowing. Jungwon was no better—his gaze had turned blank, his usually demeanor replaced by something else. The tension between the two of them was palpable, and you had to fight to keep a straight face.

As the evening wore on, the moments between you and Jeongin and Jaehyun became more exaggerated. You laughed louder, leaned closer, and gave Jeongin a playful push when he made a joke. Your heart raced with anticipation.

Sure enough, when you glanced over at Jungwon and Ni-ki, both of them were practically burning holes into you with their eyes. Jungwon was glaring at Jeongin, his jaw clenched, while Ni-ki was burning a hole in the wall in front of him.

The more you pushed, the more you noticed them getting restless. Ni-ki shifted in his seat, throwing a glance at Jungwon as if silently confirming that neither of them was happy with the situation. It was working.

But now, the hardest part—waiting.

You watched as they tried to play it cool, but every time you’d interact with Jeongin or Jaehyun, you could feel their eyes on you, and it became harder to pretend you weren’t aware of how they were watching.

Finally, when they were getting up to leave, Jeongin bumped into Ni-ki, giving him a playful smile and a casual, “Excuse me, mate,” before turning and walking away with Jaehyun.

That was when it all came to a head. You had just turned to leave the Grandhall when you felt two hands grip your wrist, pulling you back.

You turned to find Jungwon standing in front of you, his expression no longer calm. It was frustrated, a little wild, and it was clear he wasn’t happy.

“Did you have to do that?” he asked, his voice lower than usual, like he was trying to keep his cool but was failing miserably.

Ni-ki was right behind him, arms crossed, his eyes flicking from you to Jungwon and back. “Yeah,” he added, his voice tight. “What’s with you and them?”

You swallowed, keeping your composure. “What do you mean?”

“Cut the act,” Jungwon shot back, stepping a little closer, his hands clenched at his sides. “We both know what you’re doing.”

Your heart raced. There it was. You wanted them to say it. You wanted them to admit it, to confess how they felt.

“You two... are acting like children,” you said lightly, trying to keep your voice calm despite the whirlwind in your chest. “You know that, right?”

Ni-ki’s face twitched as he stepped forward. “We’re not the ones acting like that,” he muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and something else you couldn’t place. “You’re the one making us jealous.”

You smiled to yourself, the satisfaction bubbling up. The tension was finally broken, and now... all you had to do was wait for them to confess.

“Okay, what’s the big problem?” you asked, your voice calm but firm. “Why are you two acting like this?”

The words hung in the air, and for a long moment, neither of them said anything. They exchanged a quick, sharp glance, almost as if they were having a silent conversation.

Finally, Jungwon let out a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. He glared at the ground for a moment before looking up at you, his usual dimpled smile nowhere to be found.

“We’re not acting like this for no reason,” he started, his voice tense. “You think we’re just jealous for no reason?”

Ni-ki stepped forward then, his eyes searching yours. “We’re jealous,” he muttered, a bit of anger still lingering in his tone. “But it’s not just about Jaehyun, or you hanging out with Jeongin. It’s... you.”

You blinked, surprised. "Me?"

Jungwon shot him a look but then quickly turned back to you, his voice lowering, barely above a whisper. "We like you. We both do. And yeah, it’s frustrating seeing you with other people when we... we’ve been wanting to say something for a while now."

Ni-ki nodded, his usual smirk replaced by a more earnest expression. “We’re... we’re seriously into you, and it’s driving us crazy watching you get close to anyone else.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the realization settling in as you stared at them. It wasn’t just a theory anymore. They really did like you.

“You two... really?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your mind racing as everything clicked into place.

Jungwon sighed, a small, frustrated laugh escaping him. "Yeah, really. You’re smart, you’re fun, and you make everything less... boring. But we didn’t know how to say it, okay? We’re not used to this kind of thing."

Ni-ki grinned nervously, his usual confidence returning in small doses. "And I guess we were trying to make you notice. Not the best way, but it worked, didn’t it?"

You couldn’t help but smile, a little overwhelmed by the admission. The teasing and the possessiveness—it was all a roundabout way of showing how they felt, even if it was a bit chaotic.

“I... didn’t expect this,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “I thought it was just you guys being, well, you.”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a slight smirk. "And you didn’t think we could actually be serious? We’ve been serious this whole time, just... not very good at showing it."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the tension lifting as the realization hit you fully. “So, what now?”

Ni-ki stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against yours as he looked at you with hope and uncertainty. “Well, we could start by not acting like children, and maybe... go on a real date sometime?”

Jungwon’s eyes softened, as he glanced at Ni-ki and then back at you. "Yeah, what he said. We’d like to take you out, properly. No pranks or anything."

You nodded, your heart racing in a way it hadn’t before. “I think that sounds good.”

The next day, you found yourself sitting in the Slytherin common room, the warmth of the fire crackling. The scent of hot chocolate in the air, the creamy drink topped with fluffy marshmallows—just the perfect comfort on a chilly evening. You were nestled between Jungwon and Ni-ki, both of them flanking you with matching sly smirks, looking too cute in their comfy clothes and the trio socks that you all had somehow decided to get together during one of your Hogsmeade visits.

Ni-ki was playfully nudging you, trying to steal the last marshmallow, and Jungwon had his arm casually draped over the back of the couch, but his focus was clearly on you.

“Seriously, you’re hogging the sweets,” Ni-ki teased, leaning in close to you, his breath warm against your cheek. “We should get more—”

“Only if you share them,” Jungwon interrupted, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. “I’m not letting you eat them all.”

The two of them went back and forth in their usual playful manner, but this time it felt different. You were caught between them, nestled comfortably in the middle as they leaned closer to you.

Then, as if in sync, they both paused, their teasing grins melting into something softer. Ni-ki’s eyes were unusually warm, and Jungwon’s expression was full of affection.

“You know,” Ni-ki whispered, his voice low but sincere, “we love you.”

Jungwon nodded in agreement, his hand gently brushing against yours as he leaned in. “Yeah. We love you,” he repeated, his voice just above a murmur.

Before you could even respond, they both kissed your cheeks—Ni-ki on one side, Jungwon on the other—and you froze for a moment, the gentle pressure of their lips leaving you breathless.

Your heart raced in your chest, and for a moment, you felt like you were floating. Their love made you feel safe, cherished, and incredibly happy.

You looked between the two of them, a smile tugging at your lips as you met their gazes. “I love you both, too,” you whispered.

You could see the light in both Jungwon and Ni-ki’s eyes flicker with pure happiness at your confession. They were both too stunned for a moment, leaving you the perfect opportunity to tease them.

Smiling mischievously, you shifted slightly so that you were closer to both of them. "Well," you began, resting your chin on Jungwon's shoulder while your hand found Ni-ki’s arm, "I guess that means you're both officially stuck with me now." You smirked, letting the words sink in, and watched as both of their faces softened.

Ni-ki rolled his eyes but grinned, leaning into you. “You make it sound like we’re not already stuck with you,” he teased, but you could feel his breath hitch slightly when you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him closer.

Jungwon, who had been staring at you, blinked before leaning in as well. “Yeah, like there’s any way we’d want to get rid of you,” he said with a playful huff.

You took advantage of their playful words and pulled them both into a tight cuddle, which caused them both let out small, surprised noises as you enveloped them in your grip, holding them firmly.

“Now, now,” you teased, “you two are so easy to fold, aren’t you?” You could feel their shoulders relax as they practically molded to your side.

Ni-ki groaned, but there was no real protest in his voice. “You’re too comfy, stop making us weak,” he muttered, and you could practically feel him sinking into your embrace as if he couldn’t escape even if he tried. His body was warm against yours, and you could tell that he didn’t mind at all.

Jungwon’s head tipped slightly back to rest against yours, his face softening. “You’re not gonna let us go, are you?” he asked with a half-smile, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“Nope,” you answered firmly, enjoying the way their defenses crumbled under your touch. “You two are officially my cuddle buddies. And I think you both secretly love it.”

They both huffed, but there was no denying the way they leaned even further into you, practially melting into the cuddle. You couldn’t help but smile as you felt their breathing slow.

But the peace didn`t last when you suddenly felt a soft breath against your neck. It was Jungwon, his lips barely grazing your skin. Before you could react, Ni-ki’s lips followed suit, brushing against the opposite side of your neck.

A shiver ran through you at the unexpected warmth, and you gasped, your body tensing for just a moment before you settled back into their hold. They both hummed in response, clearly enjoying the effect they were having on you.

Jungwon’s kiss was gentle, his lips lingering a little longer, sending a spark of warmth straight to your chest. Ni-ki, on the other hand, kissed your neck with a more playful edge, his lips trailing soft, teasing touches as he moved closer to you.

“Relax,” Jungwon whispered against your skin, his breath sending a wave of goosebumps across your body. His hand gently brushed your hair back, before his lips returned to the delicate spot just under your ear.

Ni-ki, still clinging to you, pressed his lips closer to your neck, his touch light yet insistent. “You’re making this too easy,” he murmured, his voice full of teasing affection.

You could barely suppress the shiver that ran through you, as you felt their kisses deepen, both of them so close, almost impossibly close.

“Stop,” you gasped between breaths, though you couldn’t bring yourself to push them away. “You’re going to—”

“Going to what?” Ni-ki interrupted, his lips curling into a smirk against your skin. “Make you melt into our arms? Too late for that.”

Jungwon’s laugh was a soft, comforting sound, his lips now trailing further down your neck, leaving a warm, tingling path in their wake. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel his smile against your skin as he pulled you even closer.

Both of them were still so clingy, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you enjoyed it. You enjoyed how they both seemed to seek you out.

“You two really know how to make a girl weak,” you muttered with a soft laugh.

“And we’ll keep doing it,” Jungwon replied. “As long as you let us.”

You were completely okay with that.

Just then, from the stone wall, Peeves' head popped out. His grin was even wider this time, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he hovered before the three of you.

"I knew it!" Peeves cackled, his voice echoing through the common room. "I knew you three would end up together! It was just too perfect not to work out! Look at you, all tangled up in each other, the chaos—it’s meant to be!" He floated closer, eyes twinkling with glee as he looked at you, Jungwon, and Ni-ki. "Oh, you can’t fool me. You all make such a lovely little trio!"

You all paused, exchanging a glance. There was no point in arguing with Peeves—he was insufferable but often right in his own ridiculous way. With a collective sigh, you all decided to just humor him.

Jungwon rolled his eyes, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Oh, sure, Peeves. You figured us out," he said dryly, trying not to let Peeves get the best of him.

Ni-ki raised an eyebrow, his hand holding yours tightly. "Guess you’re not wrong," he said with a teasing grin. "But, really, did you have to show up like this? You're making it harder to pretend we don’t get along."

Peeves just giggled, enjoying every second of this. "Oh, but it’s too much fun to watch! You three are like a puzzle that finally clicked into place. And I knew I'd be the one to see it first!" He floated around you in a circle, his laughter loud and echoing. "Don’t worry, I won’t ruin it for you—yet. But I’ll be watching. Oh yes, I’ll be watching!"

With one final, exaggerated wink, Peeves disappeared back into the stone wall, his laughter still lingering in the air. You sighed and turned back to Jungwon and Ni-ki, who were both looking at you with affectionate smiles.

"Well, that was... something," you said, trying to shake off the awkwardness.

Jungwon nodded. "Yeah, but Peeves is right about one thing. We’re not going anywhere."

Ni-ki squeezed your hand. "Not ever."

Reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

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