#I love you so much but you hate me so much | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cceana · 3 days ago

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Arcane Highschool!AU

characters - vi, caitlyn, jinx, sevika, ekko, jayce and viktor content - 7.1k words, cliche highschool tropes, gn!reader, just pure fluff also a little reverse comfort

A/N this was so fun to do, cant believe i finished this in 1 day ahahahahhaah. this is my longest work yet so hopefully you guys enjoy it <3

— Star Athlete!vi and Band!reader

You’ve spent most of your high school life flying under the radar as the band’s flute player—quiet, responsible, and perfectly content in your niche. Your days revolve around early-morning rehearsals, sheet music, and the steady rhythm of practice. It’s predictable, comfortable.

That is, until the school’s star athlete, Vi, always in whispers and cheers, bursts into your life like an unrelenting storm.

Shes everything you’re not—loud, brash, impulsive, and dangerously confident. The type who winks at the crowd after scoring the winning goal, whose swagger fills the halls, and who’s constantly making headlines for their fiery outbursts on and off the field. You’ve heard the stories: the scuffle at last week’s game, the heated argument with the coach, the rumors of detention slips piling up.

You’d barely exchanged more than a few words with her, but that changes when the school decides to host a collaborative pep rally—complete with a showstopping performance featuring both the sports teams and the band.

When the coach volunteers them to help promote school spirit by playing a surprise number with the band, you’re horrified. So is she.

“I don’t have time for this,” she scoff when she gets dragged to the band room. “Why don’t you all just play louder or something?”

Your teacher assigns you the unenviable task of teaching them how to play an instrument. You can practically hear your friends giggling behind your back as you pull them aside, thrusting a trumpet into their hands.

Vi groans, slouching in her chair like a bored kid in detention. “What’s the point of this? Everyone’s here to watch me win, not play this stupid thing.”

You bristle at their cocky tone. “Well, if you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of the entire school, I suggest you try.”

VI then gives you a smirk, leaning in just a little too close. “Oh, you think I can’t do it? I’m good at everything.”

It turns out, she's not.

The first few lessons are a disaster. She blow into the trumpet like she's trying to blow out a candle from across the room, their fingers fumble over the valves, and she keep snapping, “This thing is broken!” every time it makes a screeching noise.

But underneath all the bravado and eye-rolls, you start to notice something. The way she glares at the trumpet when she messes up isn’t just frustration—it’s determination. she hates failing, and she hates it even more that they’re bad at this.

��I’m not giving up,” Vi declares after her third failed attempt to hit a note. “I’m not letting some dumb piece of metal beat me.”

The more you work together, the more cracks appear in their tough exterior. she's fiercely competitive, yes, but also surprisingly quick to laugh at themselves when the trumpet sputters out the wrong notes. Her cocky grin softens when you praise even her smallest improvement, and she starts showing up to practice earlier than you do.

One afternoon, as you’re packing up your sheet music, you catch them staring at the band photo on the wall. “You guys practice this much all the time?” Vi asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.

“Yeah,” you say, surprised. “It’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it.”

she nod slowly, her usual swagger replaced by something contemplative. “Never thought about it like that. I guess… it’s kind of like training, huh?”

That’s when you realize she's not as invincible as she seem. Behind the hot-headed confidence is someone who works just as hard as you do, who’s just as passionate about what they love—even if they show it in a completely different way.

And when the pep rally finally arrives, with the gym packed to the rafters, she surprise's everyone—not just with how she learned to play, but with how she step aside during the performance to let the band take the spotlight.

Afterward, as the crowd cheers, she give you a lopsided grin. “Not bad, huh? Guess I’m pretty good at this whole teamwork thing.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide your smile.

The pep rally is over, and the gym is buzzing with energy as people file out, still cheering and talking about the unexpected performance. You’re gathering your things in the corner of the stage when you hear footsteps behind you.

“Hey,” she calls out, her voice softer than you’re used to.

You turn to find her standing there, holding her trumpet in one hand, the other rubbing awkwardly at the back of her neck. For once, her usual cocky smirk is nowhere to be seen, replaced by an expression that’s… almost nervous.

“Uh, so… you were pretty great out there,” she says, her eyes flickering between yours and the floor. “I mean, you’re always great, but, like, today—you really killed it.”

You blink, caught off guard by the compliment. “Thanks. You were pretty great too. You didn’t even mess up the solo.”

She laughs, a warm, genuine sound that makes your chest flutter. “Yeah, well, I had a good teacher. Guess I owe you for that.”

You shrug, trying to play it cool. “Maybe. But you did the work. I’m impressed, actually. Didn’t think you’d take it so seriously.”

She steps a little closer, her usual confidence creeping back into her voice. “Yeah? So, I impressed you?”

Your face heats up, and you roll your eyes to hide it. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” she teases, but her grin softens as her gaze lingers on you. For a moment, neither of you says anything. The noise of the gym fades into the background, and all you can hear is the faint hum of your own heartbeat.

She looks down at the trumpet in her hand, turning it over like she’s stalling. “You know… I used to think band stuff was just… background noise. Like, nobody really notices it. But being up there, seeing how much you guys put into it…”

Her voice trails off, and when she looks back at you, there’s something in her eyes that makes it hard to breathe. “It made me notice you more.”

Your breath catches. “Me?”

“Yeah.” She takes another step closer, so close now that you can feel the warmth radiating off her. “You’re not just some quiet band geek who hangs out in the background. You’re… amazing. And I’ve been an idiot for not seeing it sooner.”

You open your mouth to reply, but the words get stuck in your throat. She’s staring at you like you’re the only person in the world, and for the first time, you don’t feel small or invisible. You feel seen.

“I know I’ve been kind of… impossible,” she continues, her voice dropping lower. “But I don’t want to screw this up. So if I asked you to, I don’t know, grab milkshakes or something sometime… what would you say?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile. “I’d say… as long as you don’t try to play the trumpet during the date, I might say yes.”

Her laugh is loud and bright, and before you know it, she’s grinning down at you. “Deal.”

The gym lights flicker as the janitor starts cleaning up, and you realize you’ve been standing there for what feels like forever. But as she walks you out, her shoulder brushing against yours, you can’t help but think that maybe this impulsive, hot-headed star athlete isn’t so bad after all.

— Childhood Bestfriend!caitlyn

You and Caitlyn were inseparable once, two halves of the same whole. Summers were spent running through sun-drenched fields, plotting grand adventures, and swearing eternal friendship under the stars. But that was years ago, before her family moved away to chase bigger opportunities, and you were left behind with only memories of her bright laugh and unshakable confidence.

Life moved on, and so did you. By high school, she’d become little more than a bittersweet memory. Until now.

When she walks into your homeroom on the first day of senior year, it feels like the air’s been knocked out of you. She’s taller now, with an effortless grace that makes the room go quiet. Her uniform looks somehow sharper on her, her long, dark hair falling in perfect waves. There’s something in the way she carries herself—poised and self-assured, like she owns the world—and maybe she does.

Her family name has become a symbol of power and wealth. She’s been in the headlines, her achievements as a youth advocate already earning her a reputation as a fierce voice for justice. And yet, when her gaze scans the room and lands on you, her face lights up with the same brilliant smile you remember from childhood.

“Hey,” she says as she slides into the empty seat beside you, her voice low and familiar. “Long time no see.”

You’re too stunned to do anything but nod.

You quickly learn that she’s not just here for nostalgia—she’s here with a purpose. Between rigorous AP classes, she’s working on a project to bring awareness to systemic issues in your town. Meetings, interviews, and late nights at the library seem to be her norm, and it doesn’t take long for her to rope you into helping.

At first, it feels surreal being around her again. The girl you once knew has grown into someone so driven, so ambitious, that it’s almost intimidating. She seems untouchable, like a shooting star too far away to reach.

But every now and then, the cracks in her polished armor show. When it’s just the two of you poring over notes at your kitchen table, she leans back with a sigh and pulls her hair into a ponytail, muttering about how she wishes she had more time to breathe. And when you laugh at her frustrations, she throws a crumpled piece of paper at you, her grin wide and mischievous.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” she says one evening, her eyes soft as they meet yours. “Still the only person who can make me laugh when I want to scream.”

It’s during one of these late-night sessions that the air between you shifts. You’re sitting on the floor of her family’s impossibly grand living room, surrounded by papers and laptops. She’s wearing a sweatshirt that’s too big for her, a far cry from the polished image she presents to the world, and you can’t help but think about how beautiful she looks like this—unguarded and real.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” she says, tilting her head to look at you. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” you lie, your heart racing under her gaze.

She raises an eyebrow, leaning closer. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re lying.”

You hesitate, your pulse hammering in your ears. “It’s just… I can’t believe you’re here. That after all these years, we’re… us again.”

Her expression softens, and she shifts closer until your knees are almost touching. “I’ve missed you too, you know,” she says quietly. “It’s been so hard, being away from everything I used to care about. From you.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy and electric. You want to say something—anything—but the way she’s looking at you steals the breath from your lungs. Her dark eyes search yours, and for a moment, the world seems to still.

“Do you ever think about those nights we spent under the stars?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, swallowing hard. “All the time.”

“I do too,” she admits, her hand reaching out to brush against yours. Her touch is warm, grounding, and yet it sends a jolt through you. “Back then, I always thought we’d have forever. And when I left, I realized how much I hated being wrong about that.”

You’re not sure who moves first, but suddenly the space between you disappears. Her hand lingers on yours, her thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin, and you’re acutely aware of how close her face is to yours.

“Tell me if this is okay,” she murmurs, her voice trembling just slightly.

You nod, barely able to speak. “It’s more than okay.”

And then her lips are on yours, soft and hesitant at first, like she’s afraid you’ll pull away. But you don’t. You lean into her, your hand sliding up to tangle in her hair, and the kiss deepens—sweet and full of years’ worth of unspoken feelings.

When you finally pull back, she rests her forehead against yours, a breathless smile on her lips. “I’ve waited so long to do that,” she says, her voice tinged with relief.

“Me too,” you whisper, your heart soaring.

As the night stretches on, you realize that the girl you thought you’d lost has come back into your life, not as the same person she once was, but as someone even more extraordinary. And for the first time in years, the future doesn’t feel so uncertain—it feels full of possibilities, with her by your side.

— New kid!jinx and Class president!reader

You’ve worked hard to get where you are. Every meeting attended, every speech prepared, every carefully crafted decision—it’s all been for the sake of keeping order in the chaos of your high school. As class president, your name carries weight. You’re the dependable one, the one who keeps everything running smoothly, the one who always has things under control.

Until Jinx shows up.

The whispers start on her first day. The new girl. The one who doesn’t seem to care about blending in. She strides into the building like she owns it, her uniform already disheveled, her blazer slung over her shoulder, and a wild grin on her face.

It doesn’t take long for her reputation to spread. She’s unpredictable, impulsive, and utterly magnetic. Within a week, she’s already broken half the school’s rules, talked her way out of three detentions, and somehow charmed half your classmates in the process.

And for some reason, she’s decided you’re her favorite target.

It happens during lunch. You’re sitting at your usual spot, surrounded by student council members, going over plans for the upcoming fundraiser when she walks up to your table.

“Class president,” she says, her voice dripping with mockery and something else you can’t quite place. “Mind if I join you?”

You glance up, already annoyed. “I’m busy.”

She smirks, pulling out a chair anyway. “That’s cute. You think I was asking.”

Your friends exchange uneasy glances, but she doesn’t seem to care. She leans back in the chair, her sharp pink eyes locked on you, as if she’s trying to unravel you with her gaze alone.

“You’ve got a real stick-up-your-ass vibe,” she says casually, plucking an apple from the tray in front of her. “I like that. It makes messing with you way more fun.”

You glare at her, trying to keep your composure. “Do you need something, or are you just here to waste my time?”

Her grin widens, and for a moment, you see a flicker of something wild and untamed in her expression. “Maybe I just like watching you squirm.”

She becomes a constant in your life after that. You find her waiting outside your classroom, lounging against your locker, or casually walking into student council meetings as if she belongs there.

“Do you ever stop?” you snap one afternoon, cornering her in the hallway after she’s disrupted yet another meeting.

“Stop what?” she asks innocently, tilting her head.

“Whatever game you’re playing.”

She steps closer, and for the first time, you notice just how intense her gaze is. “Who says it’s a game? Maybe I just like you.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and electric, and before you can respond, she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving you standing there, utterly baffled.

It’s not until much later that you start to see the cracks in her chaotic facade. One night, you find her sitting alone in the empty music room, the piano keys beneath her fingers. She’s not playing, just pressing random notes, her usual manic energy replaced by a quiet stillness.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you say, stepping into the room.

She doesn’t look up. “Neither should you.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks. Then she sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I bet you think I’m crazy.”

You hesitate, caught off guard by the vulnerability in her voice. “I think you’re reckless and impulsive and… exhausting. But no, I don’t think you’re crazy.”

She finally looks up at you, her eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them. “You’re too nice for your own good, you know that?”

“I’m not nice,” you counter. “I just… I think there’s more to you than the act you put on.”

Her lips twitch into a small, almost shy smile. “Careful, president. You keep saying things like that, and I might start to believe you.”

The more time you spend around her, the more you realize how deeply she feels everything. Her chaos isn’t just for show—it’s a shield, a way to keep people from getting too close. But with you, she starts to let her guard down.

One evening, she shows up outside your house, her hair messy and her eyes wild. “Come with me,” she says, grabbing your hand.

“Where are we going?” you ask, letting her drag you down the street.

“Anywhere,” she replies, her grip tight. “Everywhere. I don’t care.”

You end up at the park, sitting on a swingset as the stars blink overhead. She’s unusually quiet, her hands gripping the chains tightly as she stares at the ground.

“You ever feel like you’re spinning out of control?” she asks suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You glance at her, surprised by the question. “Sometimes.”

She exhales shakily, her fingers brushing against yours. “You… you make it stop. Just for a little while.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you don’t know if it’s the raw honesty in her words or the way her fingers linger against yours, but you feel something shift between you.

It happens later that night, as you’re walking her home. She stops in front of her house, turning to face you with an unreadable expression.

“Why do you put up with me?” she asks suddenly, her voice soft.

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“I’m a mess,” she says, her gaze dropping to the ground. “I break things, I hurt people… I’m not like you. I’m not good.”

“You’re not perfect,” you admit, stepping closer. “But you’re not as bad as you think you are, either.”

She looks up at you, her eyes shining with something you can’t quite name. “You’re going to regret saying that.”

“Maybe,” you say with a small smile. “But I don’t think so.”

Before you can overthink it, you lean in, your lips brushing against hers. She freezes for a moment, like she’s caught off guard, but then she kisses you back, her hands clutching at your sleeves as if you’re the only solid thing in her world.

When you finally pull back, her face is flushed, and she’s breathing hard. “You’re insane,” she mutters, though there’s no heat in her words.

“Takes one to know one,” you reply, grinning.

She laughs, the sound light and genuine, and for the first time, you feel like you’ve truly seen her—every broken, beautiful piece of her.

—Troublemaker!sevika and Tutor!reader

You weren’t thrilled when your teacher assigned you as her tutor. You’d heard all the rumors: skipped classes, biting comebacks that left people reeling, and a permanent spot on the troublemaker watchlist.

Her reputation painted her as unteachable, untamable, and entirely uninterested in anything resembling authority. When your teacher insisted she “just needed guidance,” you couldn’t help but feel skeptical.

The first session confirmed it.

She slouched into the library ten minutes late, her bag dragging on the floor, and dropped into the chair across from you with a loud huff.

“Look,” she said before you could even greet her, “I don’t need some perfect little know-it-all telling me what to do.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I’m just here to help.”

“Sure,” she scoffed, leaning back in her chair. “Let’s get this over with.”

Her tone was cutting, her expression bored, and yet… there was something about her. A quiet intensity lurking beneath the surface, like she was daring you to break through her tough exterior.

Each session felt like a test of patience. She was sharp, no question about it, but her attitude made every interaction a battle.

“You’re not even trying,” you said one afternoon after she tossed her pen aside for the third time.

Her eyes snapped to yours, hard and unyielding. “Don’t act like you know me,” she said coldly. “You think I don’t try? You think I don’t bust my ass every single day?”

You froze, startled by the edge in her voice.

She leaned forward, her gaze cutting through you like a blade. “I don’t need this. I don’t need you. I’m here because they told me to be.”

For a moment, you considered walking away. But then you saw it—just the faintest flicker of something vulnerable beneath her defiance.

“You’re right,” you said, keeping your voice calm. “I don’t know you. But I know you’re capable of more than this.”

Her jaw tightened, and she looked away, her fingers drumming on the table. “Whatever,” she muttered.

But she didn’t leave.

Slowly, things started to shift. She showed up on time—barely. She started taking notes—reluctantly. And every so often, she’d let her tough exterior slip, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the real her.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling session, you handed her a worksheet.

“You’re getting better,” you said, offering her a small smile.

She snorted. “Don’t get all sentimental on me.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying you’re improving.”

“Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath for a thank-you card,” she replied, but there was a hint of a smirk on her lips.

Her walls were still up, but they were starting to crack.

It happened on a rare quiet day in the library. She was hunched over her notebook, her brow furrowed as she worked through a particularly tricky problem.

“Got it,” she said suddenly, sitting up straight.

“Really?” you asked, leaning over to check her work.

She shoved the notebook toward you, her smirk firmly in place. “Told you I’m not dumb.”

“I never said you were dumb,” you replied, meeting her gaze. “You just make things harder than they need to be.”

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe I like a challenge.”

“Or maybe you’re just stubborn,” you teased.

Her smirk softened, just for a moment. “Takes one to know one, princess.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the way she said it, her voice low and almost… fond.

After weeks of late afternoons spent together, you found yourself walking her home one evening. The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over the quiet streets.

“You’re not as bad as I thought,” she said suddenly, breaking the silence.

You blinked, surprised. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Don’t push your luck,” she shot back, though her tone lacked its usual bite.

When you reached her house, she stopped at the gate, turning to face you. Her usual confidence wavered, just slightly.

“Why do you bother with me?” she asked, her voice quieter than usual.

“Because I see how hard you work,” you said honestly. “And because I think there’s more to you than what you let people see.”

She stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, without warning, she stepped closer, her hand brushing yours.

“You’re a real pain, you know that?” she murmured, her voice soft but firm.

Before you could respond, she leaned in, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that was as bold and unapologetic as she was.

When she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, but her smirk was firmly in place.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” she said, turning toward her door.

You smiled, your heart racing. “Too late."

—Artist!ekko and Muse!reader

It was one of those golden autumn afternoons, the kind where the sunlight made everything look softer, warmer, like it belonged in a painting. You’d escaped to the park during your lunch break, clutching a well-worn book in one hand and a coffee in the other. It wasn’t the first time you’d come here for a little peace and quiet, but it felt like one of the rare times you’d actually get it.

You settled on a bench near the fountain, a cozy corner of the park where the only sounds were the gentle trickle of water and the rustling of leaves in the breeze.

The moment you opened your book, however, you felt it—a faint, almost electric sensation prickling at the edge of your awareness. Someone was watching you.

Glancing up, you spotted him.

He was sitting on the grass a few yards away, sketchpad balanced on his knees, pencil flying across the page. His hair fell messily across his forehead, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to reveal forearms speckled with faint smears of paint. Despite the chaos of his appearance, his focus was absolute, his gaze darting between you and the paper as if you were some rare discovery he couldn’t afford to lose.

You furrowed your brow, unsure whether to feel flattered or alarmed. “Can I help you?” you called, your voice cutting through the quiet.

He blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and stood quickly.

“Sorry,” he said, striding toward you. “I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

His voice was smooth, tinged with an earnestness that made it hard to stay annoyed.

“I’m an artist,” he explained, gesturing to his sketchpad. “I know this sounds weird, but you’ve got this… look. The way you’re sitting, the way the light hits you—it’s perfect.”

“Perfect?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“For a piece I’m working on,” he clarified, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Do you mind if I sketch you? Just for a little while.”

You hesitated, studying him. He didn’t look like a creep—just young, maybe a little unkempt, with an intensity in his eyes that was hard to ignore.

“I’m not really dressed for a portrait,” you said, gesturing to your casual sweater and jeans.

He smiled, and the way his face softened surprised you. “It’s not about the clothes. It’s the way you carry yourself.”

The compliment was unexpected, and it caught you off guard. “Alright,” you said slowly. “But just for a few minutes.”

“Great,” he said, dropping to the bench across from you with a grin that felt like the sun breaking through the clouds

It turned out he was a prodigy, a young artist with a growing reputation in the city. His work had been featured in galleries, and he’d even won a few prestigious awards. But for all his talent, he was surprisingly down-to-earth.

“I don’t really like the whole ‘genius’ label,” he admitted one afternoon after convincing you to pose for him again. “It just makes people think I’ve got everything figured out. But most of the time, I’m just trying to keep up with my own ideas.”

You quickly realized that his art wasn’t just a skill—it was his lifeline. He spoke about it the way others might talk about breathing. And for some reason, he’d decided that you were his muse.

“Why me?” you asked one day as he sketched you in his studio. The walls were covered with half-finished canvases, each one brimming with vivid colors and raw emotion.

He glanced up from his sketchbook, his eyes soft but focused. “You’ve got something about you,” he said simply. “A kind of… light. I can’t explain it, but when I see you, I want to create.”

His honesty was disarming. There was no pretense in his words, no calculated charm. He spoke as though his heart was an open book, and every word was written in your honor.

“Do you say that to all your muses?” you teased, trying to lighten the moment.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I’ve never had one before you.”

As time went on, you got to know him beyond his talent. He was fiercely independent, refusing to rely on anyone for his success. His compassion, however, was what surprised you most. He spent his weekends teaching art classes at a local youth center, his eyes lighting up as he helped kids discover their own creativity.

“They’ve got so much potential,” he said once, his voice filled with quiet pride. “They just need someone to believe in them.”

It was clear that he poured himself into everything he did, whether it was a painting, a lesson, or simply spending time with you.

One evening, he invited you to his studio after hours. The space was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of paint and turpentine.

“I want to show you something,” he said, guiding you to the center of the room where a large canvas stood covered by a cloth.

With a dramatic flourish, he pulled the cloth away, revealing a breathtaking painting. It was you—your pose, your expression, every detail captured with such tenderness that it felt like staring into a mirror of your soul.

“Is that… me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his gaze steady. “It’s not just you,” he said softly. “It’s how I see you. Strong, radiant… inspiring.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“It’s beautiful,” you said finally, your voice thick with emotion.

“So are you,” he replied, his lips curling into a small, genuine smile.

There was no grand confession, no dramatic moment where everything changed. Instead, your relationship grew in quiet, unspoken ways. The way he brought you coffee when you visited his studio. The way he asked for your opinion on his work, genuinely valuing your thoughts. The way his hand would brush against yours when he passed you a sketchbook, his touch lingering just a second too long.

One day, as you sat together in the park where you’d first met, he turned to you, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

“You know,” he said, his voice low, “I’m not sure I’d be able to do this without you.”

“Do what?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Create,” he replied simply. “You make it… easier to believe in myself.”

You smiled, your heart fluttering at his honesty. “I think you’d do just fine on your own.”

“Maybe,” he said, his gaze never leaving yours. “But I don’t want to.”

—Bestfriend!jayce

The two of you had been inseparable for as long as you could remember. From elementary school to your final year of high school, your lives had been stitched together with countless shared moments—late-night study sessions, chaotic group projects, and lazy afternoons spent at the local diner. You were the grounded one, the planner, while he was the dreamer.

He was everything you admired in a person: ambitious, creative, and unrelentingly passionate about making the world a better place. Whether he was organizing a charity event for the school or advocating for a greener campus, he didn’t just talk about change—he embodied it.

“Alright, hear me out,” he said one afternoon as you sat in your favorite spot in the school library. His voice was alive with energy, his words spilling out faster than you could process them.

You glanced up from your notes, already bracing yourself. “This is going to be another one of your big ideas, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” he said with a grin. “It’s what I do best.”

He leaned forward, spreading out a sketchbook filled with colorful doodles and bold handwriting. Each page was a mix of blueprints, campaign slogans, and notes for an initiative he wanted to pitch to the student council.

“I’m telling you, if we can pull this off, it could really make a difference. We could partner with local businesses, raise money for community programs, and even involve the younger students—”

“You’re going a hundred miles an hour again,” you interrupted gently, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Not when I’m onto something good,” he replied without missing a beat.

That was him in a nutshell: a whirlwind of ideas and determination, always moving forward. It was both inspiring and exhausting to keep up with him, but somehow, you always did.

For all his big ideas and boundless enthusiasm, he had a softer side too—a side he reserved just for you.

One Friday night, he showed up outside your house, honking his car horn until you came outside in your pajamas.

“What are you doing?” you hissed, glancing around to make sure your neighbors weren’t watching.

“Get in,” he said with a grin, leaning out of the driver’s side window. “I need your opinion on something.”

“You’re insane,” you muttered, but you climbed into the passenger seat anyway.

He drove to a quiet hill on the outskirts of town, parking near an old tree you’d both claimed as “your spot” years ago. He pulled out a notebook from his bag and handed it to you.

“These are my ideas for the youth outreach program,” he said. “I need to know if I’m being too ambitious.”

You flipped through the pages, your heart warming as you saw the effort he’d poured into every word and sketch.

“This is incredible,” you said softly. “You’re not just ambitious—you’re inspiring. People are going to listen to you.”

He looked at you, his expression unreadable. “You really think so?”

“Always,” you said, your voice firm.

For a split second, you thought he might reach out to take your hand, but instead, he leaned back, staring up at the stars. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

After particularly grueling school days, he’d find you at your locker, holding out your favorite drink or snack without a word. When the stress of finals hit, he’d sit beside you in the library, quietly working through his own assignments while offering words of encouragement.

And then there were the moments when his usual confidence wavered.

“Do you think I’m crazy?” he asked one evening as you sat on the hood of his car, staring up at the stars.

The two of you had just spent hours planning his latest project, a school-wide fundraiser for a local shelter. Despite his ambitious plans, his voice was quieter now, almost hesitant.

“You? Crazy?” you teased, nudging him playfully. “Absolutely.”

He laughed softly, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t completely fade.

“Seriously, though,” he said, turning to you. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m aiming too high. Like, what if I can’t actually pull all this off? What if I fail?”

You reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You won’t fail. You’re the most determined person I’ve ever met. And even if something doesn’t work out the way you planned, it doesn’t mean you failed. It just means you’re brave enough to try again.”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, the air between you felt heavier, charged with something unspoken.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The moment lingered, and as he pulled back, his hands stayed on your shoulders. His gaze searched yours, and for the first time, you saw a vulnerability there that he usually kept hidden.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for a while now,” he began, his voice soft but steady.

Your breath caught. “What is it?”

“I don’t just care about you as a friend,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly. “I mean, I do, but it’s more than that. You’ve always been my anchor, the one person who gets me, who believes in me even when I doubt myself.”

Your heart raced, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. “I think I’ve always felt the same way,” you said quietly.

Relief washed over his face, followed by a smile so genuine it made your chest ache.

“Then we’re in this together,” he said, reaching for your hand. “Like always.”

From that day on, your friendship transformed into something deeper, something stronger. His dreams grew bigger, but now, they weren’t just his—they were yours too. Together, you were unstoppable, a team bound by shared passion and a love that had been years in the making.

Whether it was planning for college or brainstorming ways to change the world, one thing was certain: with him by your side, anything felt possible.

—Enemies to lovers!viktor and reader

From the moment the new kid transferred to your school, it was as if the universe had dropped a puzzle piece into the wrong spot. He was a contradiction: introverted yet razor-sharp in class discussions, quiet but with an undercurrent of passion that seemed to burst through in unexpected moments. His snarky comebacks and aloof demeanor were practically tailor-made to clash with your confident, no-nonsense approach to everything.

You couldn’t help but notice how he kept his distance from everyone else, often retreating to the farthest corner of the library or lab. Despite his unassuming presence, he somehow managed to infuriate you with his brilliance. Teachers fawned over him, classmates whispered about him, and you? You glared daggers at him every time he raised his hand in class to counter one of your arguments.

The first real confrontation happened in science class. It was a group project, and your teacher, in a cruel twist of fate, paired you with him.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath.

He barely glanced at you as he set down his notebook, already flipping through its pages. “It’s not my favorite pairing either, but let’s just get this done.”

His tone was clipped, and his eyes barely met yours.

“Oh, so we’re starting with passive-aggressive remarks? Good to know where we stand,” you shot back, folding your arms.

He sighed, finally looking at you. “Look, I don’t care if you like me or not. I care about getting an A on this project. If you want to argue, fine, but at least do it while we’re running the experiment.”

His bluntness took you off guard, and for a moment, you were speechless. But you quickly recovered, rolling your eyes. “Fine. But don’t think for a second I’m letting you take over.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he muttered under his breath, already scribbling in his notebook.

Working together was like a storm brewing in slow motion. You were both stubborn and headstrong, constantly butting heads over the smallest details.

“Why are you doing it that way?” you snapped one afternoon as he adjusted the settings on the experiment’s apparatus.

“Because it’s the correct way,” he replied without looking up.

“You didn’t even let me explain my idea!”

“Your idea would’ve blown up the circuit.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“Let me guess—you’re the kind of person who thinks trial and error is the only way to learn?”

He finally turned to face you, a faint smirk playing at his lips “And you’re the kind of person who thinks you’re always right,”

The tension crackled like static electricity, but neither of you backed down.

It wasn’t until a late-night study session in the empty library that things started to shift. The project deadline was looming, and you’d reluctantly agreed to meet outside of school to finish your work.

He was unusually quiet that night, his usual snark absent as he stared intently at the data on his laptop.

“Hey,” you said, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

He hesitated, his fingers pausing on the keyboard. “Just tired. And frustrated. I want this to be perfect.”

Something in his tone softened your usual defensiveness. “You know, it doesn’t have to be perfect. You’re allowed to mess up sometimes.”

He gave a faint, humorless laugh. “Not really. Not when people are counting on me.”

The vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard. For the first time, you saw past the walls he’d built around himself—the pressure he carried, the weight of expectations.

“I didn’t realize you were dealing with so much,” you said quietly.

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Why would you? We’ve been too busy trying to outsmart each other.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Fair point. Maybe we should call a truce—for now.”

He smiled, just barely, and it was the first time you’d seen him let his guard down.

As the project progressed, the two of you started to find common ground. You discovered his love for science wasn’t just about theories and equations—it was about helping people.

“Why are you so passionate about this?” you asked one day as he carefully calibrated a piece of equipment.

He hesitated, then said, “Because I want to make a difference. I has a chronic illness, and I’ve spent years struggling with treatments that barely work. I want to change that for me, and for anyone else going through the same thing.”

His words hit you like a punch to the chest. You’d always thought of him as cold and detached, but now, you saw the fire that drove him.

“That’s… incredible,” you said softly.

He shrugged, his cheeks tinged with color. “It’s just what I care about. What about you? What drives you?”

You hesitated, caught off guard by the question. But as you opened up about your own dreams and ambitions, you realized something had shifted between you.

On the night before the project was due, you were sitting in his garage, putting the final touches on your presentation. It was late, and the two of you were running on caffeine and adrenaline.

“Here,” he said, handing you a mug of tea. “You’re going to burn out if you keep pushing yourself.”

“Look who’s talking,” you teased, taking the mug.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the garage filling the space.

“You’re not so bad, you know,” he said suddenly, his voice low.

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that your idea of a compliment?”

He smiled faintly, looking down at his hands. “I mean it. I’ve never met anyone who challenges me the way you do. It’s… refreshing.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you looked away, pretending to focus on the data. “Well, don’t get used to it. I’m not going easy on you just because you’re finally being nice.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” he said, and there was a softness in his tone that made your heart race.

#arcane x reader #arcane #viktor x reader #jayce x reader #vi x reader #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn kirraman x reader #ekko x reader #sevika x reader #lesbian #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #arcane headcanon #arcane imagines #x reader #jinx x reader

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princ3ssdiari3s · 2 days ago

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crawlin’ back to you

sevikaxfem!reader

cw: mommy kink, spanking, manipulation, hair pulling, toxic relationship, mentions of baby trapping, breeding kink, nasty sex

a/n: my first sevika fan fic :3

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊ ₊

she did it again. she promised you time and time again that she would change, but once more, you found yourself shaking—heart pounding, eyes welling up with tears. you didn’t understand why she was like this. yes, she was an incredibly busy woman, but why couldn’t she make time for you? it was a question you asked yourself daily. minutes turned into hours, hours into days, and eventually, days turned into two weeks since you last heard from her. this time, instead of blowing up her phone, you accepted it. you told yourself you would never again tolerate this kind of disrespect.

as the darkness of sleep began to take you, your ears picked up on… footsteps? “it can’t be,” you muttered softly. you rose from your bed slowly, careful not to make any noise in case it wasn’t who you thought it was. “sevika?” you called out into the dim apartment, your voice soft but loud enough for anyone nearby to hear.

“the fuck you think you’re doing?”

her voice cut through the stillness, she was pissed. the sound of her boots grew louder as she walked toward your room. and then there she was, stepping into the soft glow of your bedside lamp, her muscular and tall figure looming and commanding. “you think just because i’m gone for a bit, that means you get to fucking forget about me?” she growled.

before you could respond, sevika reached out, her calloused hand wrapping around your arm. her grip was firm, not painful, but it demanded your attention. “vika—” you stammered. fourteen days of trying to block her out, trying to resist the thought of her touch, her love, her pampering—all of it came rushing back at once, washing away every ounce of self respect you slowly built.

as you searched for the words to respond, anger began to rise within you. “i fucking hate you!” you blurted, your voice cracking. “why do you do this to me, sevika? w-why?” tears streamed down your face, your body trembling with frustration and heartbreak. you didn’t understand why you still loved her so much when she treated you like this. you didn’t understand why she had this unshakable hold on you, a grip no one else in your life had ever hold.

sevika’s expression, once hardened with anger, softened as she listened to your shaky words. her anger melted into something gentler as the sound of your sobs pierced through her defenses. without a word, she leaned down and effortlessly scooped you into her arms, holding you close as you cried into her chest. she carried you to the bed and placed you down with care, her rough hand gently brushing your cheek, wiping away your tears.

she climbed onto the bed, her broad frame hovering over yours, her face inches away. propping herself up with her flesh-and-metal arm, she kept you in place, her presence impossible to ignore. “look at me, doll,” she commanded, her voice firm but tender. you obeyed without question, your teary eyes locking onto hers.

“i’m sorry, baby doll,” she murmured. “you know how i am, princess. but just ’cause i was gone for a bit doesn’t mean you gotta go making me hear from ran that you’re doing better without me.” her voice softened further as she leaned closer, her lips brushing against your forehead. “y’know i’ll never truly leave you, ma,” she cooed.

you turned your head away, tired of hearing the same excuses over and over again. you tried to sit up, but before you could lift your back off the bed, sevika pressed you down again. her grip on your side tightened, no longer as gentle as before.

“stay. and fucking listen to me,” she ordered, her voice leaving no room for argument.

your chest heaved with a shaky breath, your emotions still raw as you glared at her. “if you’re really sorry, prove it,” you spat, your voice trembling.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊

“m-mommy please!!” you cried. the nasty wet sounds of skin slapping onto the each other filled the room. “fuck arch your back more for mommy baby” she pressed her hand on your back, her mechanical hand on the side of your hips. the dark purple plastic cock hit every part of your inner walls so beautifully.

“fucking pussy so fucking good baby— gonna give you all my fucking babies so you’re stuck with me”

“mhm mommy, fuckkkkkk” your pussy throbs at her words, fuck well there goes standing on business.

“look at me baby, who’s big cock is deeppp in you?” you look back to her, trying your hardest to keep your head up over your shoulder. just the sight of your low eyes and your body bent over like this just for her makes her go insane, mentally taking a photo of the sight beneath her.

“you! sevika! you!” you moan only to be met with a smack on your ass.

“nuh uh baby, what’s my name? say it right.”

“ngh- you mommy!!! you!!” the woman chuckles before her pace moves faster.

“good girlllll” she cooed. you buried your face onto the pillow, muffling your moans which were now screams and filthy whines. sevika did not like this one bit. her hand gripped your hair into a makeshift pony and slowly pulled your face off the pillow in order to hear you better.

“don’t hide from me princess, take this fucking dick ma”

OOOOOOOUUUU LAWD

you look back at her once again, “mommy i’m gonna c-cummmm!!” your eyes locked onto her silver eyes, begging for her permission for you to come undone

“fuck baby me too, gonna knock my pretty girl up, cum on this fucking dick baby, dick that you’re always gonna cum on. nobody else making this pussy cum but me” you feel your face getting hotter, tummy and pussy getting tingly as your orgasm washes over you. “too much mama!!” you whined as she fucked you through it.

“shitttt baby mommy’s cumming too!!” her hips stuttered as the strap grinds over her sensitive clit but her pace doesn’t get any less slower. an orgasm sweeps over her body as yours did just a few minutes ago.

you both stay there for a few seconds, trying to catch some air and recover from that body shaking orgasm. she slowly removes the plastic toy covered in your cum from inside of you. “let’s get you cleaned up” she announces, breaking the few seconds of silence in the room.

back to square one.

#sevika #sevika smut #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika x y/n #sevika season 2 #toxic relationship #mommy k1nk #toxic love

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shawtuzi · 2 days ago

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imagine smoking out ur bfs!choso & armin and milking them at the same time….whew i just got chills

cw include: some drug use, oral m! receiving, overstimulation, milking, choso blacks out lmao ( boarder credit @/bernardsbendystraws)

“i feel like m’gonna fuckin’ p-pass out,” choso sniffled, hand trembling as he brought the almost finished blunt to his kiss bitten lips. his hips weakly bucked upwards to start fucking your hand, obnoxious shlicking noises echoing throughout the room—armin and choso’s shared dorm room to be exact.

armin was next to choso, practically melting into the bed as you continued to stroke his dick. shiny pearls of pre seemed to endlessly leak from his tip, creating an even bigger mess in your hand.

you were cockdrunk as ever, moaning around their dicks as you took turns taking their tips into your hot mouth. choso was the whiniest of the two no doubt, moaning and babbling about how good he was feeling like a bitch in heat—he was too cute :((

choso shakily brought the blunt to armin’s lips, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip as he watched armin french inhale the drug. “jesus you’re so—hah! m-messy y/nnnn,” just as armin finished his sentence you had deepthroated his cock, fresh hot tears now brimming at your lash line. his dick throbbed in your mouth, the two thick veins on the underside thrumming against your skillful tongue.

you pulled off his dick with a lewd pop! your focus now on choso’s full balls. choso sucked in a sharp breath, nearly dropping the blunt in the process. you sucked one of his balls into your mouth, internally cooing at choso’s pathetic, flushed face. “m’gonna cum baby,” choso’s voice cracked as he whined out to you, abs clenching as his fourth orgasm of the evening was approaching.

“m-me too,” armin slurred, throwing an arm over his eyes. you licked up the base of choso’s cock to the tip, sucking the reddened muscle greedily before moving onto armin, giving his dick the same treatment.

if the ppl living on choso and armin’s floor didn’t hate them before then they certainly did now, because the symphony of pornographic moans that could be heard were just straight up unholy. that’s why you loved smoking them out so much—they were a couple of screamers and you thrived for that shit.

choso flopped on his back, just like armin, his hips thrusting wildly into your hand. armin’s big hand rested on top of your head, gripping onto your hair as he fucked your throat raw. armin pressed his foot against your clothed cunt, grinning to himself when he felt your throat tighten around him.

“hah! hah! s-shittt,” armin damn near shouted, his thighs trembling as he finally released his fourth load down you throat. choso wasn’t far behind at all, his hips stuttering when you tightened your grip around his tip. ropes of his milky white release coated your hand, dripping from your knuckles and onto his shaking thighs.

“f-fuck i think he might’ve passed out again, dammit y/n you always do this to him,” armin chuckled, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “s’not my fault he’s such a slut for a blowjob,” you giggled, grabbing some nearby tissues to clean yourself up.

the two of you cleaned choso up, giggling quietly to yourselves as you pulled his sweats up. “he’s so cute,” you cooed, brushing the stray baby hairs from his forehead.

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bonniepop · 3 days ago

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another night where you fight, another night of silence. another night where miya osamu sleeps with his back to you.

the realization that there is not much more you can do to save your relationship clutches at your chest with an iron grip.

the gravity of it makes you whimper. pressing your lips together, you shakily push yourself up to sit blinking back tears while blindly stepping around for your slippers, willing yourself not to sob—not here, not where he can hear. your toes touch the fluff of them, and you hurry to slip them on. you need to get out of here.

as quiet as possible, you leave your boyfriend in your shared bedroom.

you stumble to the couch and kick off your shoes, blindly searching until your fingers catch the lampshade switch. you yank it to provide some light, rattling as it flings back into place.

you pull your knees to your chest and press your forehead against your kneecaps. a numb part of your brain thinks oh, so this is where this was, when you think of the misery that quieted itself, replaced with a numbness that overtook you during the fight you had with him earlier.

the numbness that made your limbs feel like ice when he clicked off the phone call without even hearing you out.

you wanted to tell him so much, but in the face of his blank gaze and dismissive demeanor, you shut off. you have more fight in you, you know that. but tonight you just couldn’t. couldn’t listen to him tell you that he needed more from you—more support, more time, more patience.

you’ve given him that, right? your brain runs with thoughts you can't keep up with. you gave him yourself. you have, for months, for years. you did what you could. you’ve withstood lonely anniversaries, forgotten birthdays, broken promises. you’ve done everything you could. you gave what you could. you gave everything you could.

i want you to come home, you wanted to tell him eatlier tonight. come home. you’re never home. i know you’re busy at work and you’re doing what you love but please, ‘samu. please.

love me, too.

your body wracks with a sob, the hurt fresh, as if the words that you never got to say wounded your insides instead. you wanted to tell him that, you wanted to beg for it, beg for his time, beg for his attention, beg for him to love you back. but time and time again he just turns and says he’s tired, he doesn't want to hear it, and the moment is gone, and now the fear of knowing that leaving things unsaid will destroy you, will destroy him. will destroy both of you.

you huddle closer into yourself and sob, a sharp sound in your ears making your head pound.

“babe?” you hear through the ringing in your ears, and suddenly warm hands are on your arms. “babe, what’s wrong?” his voice is calm against your turmoil. “are you having a panic attack?”

“’samu, i’m—” you shudder and he leaves for a moment, flitting to the kitchen to grab you some water.

“drink, please,” he tells you, gently unfurling you to sit. you comply with shaky limbs, taking the water he’d given you in your delicate grip. a few sips are enough to calm you down, but the fear is still there.

he gingerly takes the glass and sets it aside. he kneels in front of you, taking your hands and soothingly rubbing his thumbs against your skin. his fingers are hot, almost like a furnace, but when you realize that he's not, he's fine, your hands are freezing, you resist the urge to pull away as he warms your palm.

when he looks up to smile at you, you see the exhaustion on his face, and, instantly, you hate yourself for it. for this.

"i'm sorry," you blurt out, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over.

his hand leaves yours and cups your cheek. "for what, baby?"

“i love you so much, osamu,” you tell him without thinking, voice thick and wet and miserable. you press the palm of the hand he let go of against his cheek, hiccuping when he closes his eyes to lean into your touch.

“i love you, too,” he says, ready to apologize for the fight, but it's not about that.

not anymore.

you pull away. the confusion and hurt on his face is making everything worse.

“i love you so much,” you tell him, desperately wishing that he could understand. “but i—” you sob, “but, osamu, i can’t anymore.”

osamu presses his lips together, saying nothing. you hear him sniffle, and his fingers come forward to brush at the tears on your cheeks and tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

“i love you so much,” you confess. “i would do anything for you. and i have, i have for years. i’ve tried my best, but osamu, i’m so tired,” you sob. your voice feels like its giving out but the desperation makes the words claw themselves out of your mouth. “i’m so tired, i'm so tired and i'm so lonely, and—and—and i love you so much, but i have nothing left to give.”

you pull your hands away to hunch over and cry into your palms unable to face him. messily, you wipe at your face and push your hair back. you give him the most apologetic smile you can muster, but you're unable to see his face through your tears. “i’m so sorry i can’t give you more, osamu.”

you hear him sniffle and when you wipe your tears away with the backs of your hands, his eyes are glassy. then he closes his eyes.

the pain that washes over his face is absolutely unbearable. the furrow of his brow and the wrinkle of his chin, the lines by his scowl that you know is him trying his best to keep it together.

when he opens his eyes to look at you, his eyes are no longer glassy. your heart breaks for the pain he refuses to show. “what’s next?”

your smile is sad and wet with tears. “i think you know.” you brush his hair back and cradle his face with your hands. “let’s… let’s do this in the morning, okay?”

he nods, looking away. he licks his lips and shakes his head, and he turns to face you with a furrowed brow and a little more composure despite his watery gaze. but it doesn’t take long before his face crumples and he rushes to hide his face against your legs. his quiet sobs are pained and miserable, his chest shaking as he cries.

you press your face against his hair and cry with him.

—

the morning greets you kindly, the soft sunlight bathing your room in a sweet glow. it’s early, but you can’t keep sleeping. there’s a lot to pack.

your eyes feel hot and swollen, and bones feel heavy beneath your skin, weighing you down from getting up from the bed. still, you fight. you push yourself up to sit and notice that you’re alone. unsurprising, really; osamu has been leaving earlier and coming home later. onigiri miya needs care, needs nurturing, so it’ll blossom and grow. you need to stop begrudging him for it.

you finish your morning ablutions in the bathroom and head out to the kitchen, but when you open your bedroom door, the smell of food hits your nose like a smack to the face. your stomach twists when you see a familiar broad back—osamu didn’t leave—and your fingers turn cold.

the door slides shut behind you and he turns. “good mornin’,” he says quietly, shutting off the stove.

“good morning,” you say, walking to your kitchenette. when you see the spread on the table, you gape despite yourself. “osamu. what is—what.”

he flushes, sliding a delicious looking steak unto a plate and setting it alongside the other plates—nearly every single plate you own, you note—and your dining table is bursting with food. “cooked breakfast.”

“for how many people?” you ask, incredulous. “i tried t'remember everythin’ you liked,” he said with a sniff, and your heart crinkles at the edges, because that means something.

“thank you,” you whisper, and you quietly take a seat while sets aside the dishware he used.

when he finishes, he turns to look at you, leaning on the counter. it takes him a while. “when you leave,” he says, “i’m going to try again.”

you stare at him, confused. you say nothing and wait for him to continue.

“i don’t want you to leave,” he says, and he rubs his face in frustration. “but i know i’ve—i know i fucked up. i love you, and i never should’ve hurt you.” he inhales through his nose. “but i did, and i can’t change that.

“but i’m not giving up on you. not on us. you—” he clears his throat, and the dark circles beneath his eyes makes your heart feel tight. “i’ll… if i have to start all over again, i’ll do it,” he whispers, walking closer and taking your chin in his hand, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. “i’ll win you back.”

“osamu,” you whisper, and his face crumples again.

“i love you too much to let you go,” he says, voice breaking as he fights back tears. “and i know that makes me a jerk. but i’m… i love you, so much—so fucking much, and i hate myself for not making you feel that. for hurting you.”

he gets on his knees and tears are streaming down your face. “leave me if you have to,” he says brokenly.

“if you need space, i’ll understand. but please,” he begs. “please don’t give up on me.”

he does the unthinkable. he curls over and bows, back curved and forehead pressed against the backs of his hands, pressed against the floor.

the horror that overtakes you is beyond words.

you drop to the floor to pull him upright, not letting him do this. he won’t do this to himself, you won’t let him. not for anyone, not for you. you pull his face against yours and kiss him as hard as you can, crying as you do.

you won't let him do this.

later, you sit on the couch, arms around osamu’s middle as you lie on his chest. the idea that this could be the last time you held him like this made you want to burst into tears again.

“i’ll make it up to you,” he promises, pushing your hair out of your face, gently guiding your chin up. “please, just… give me another chance.”

you look up at him, and your eyes meet.

—

“hey!” atsumu greets warmly as soon as you enter the restaurant, spreading his arms wide to engulf you in a hug. “it’s so good t’see you!“

“hi, ‘tsumu,” you greet, returning the hug.

he motions for you to sit as he picks up the menu. “know what you want?”

you nod, not even bothering to pick up the menu. “how are you? how’s training?”

“’m good! training’s good. teammates are pretty good, too.”

"yeah? like who?"

atsumu makes a show of looking at the menu. "oh, i don't you know them."

you roll your eyes at his obvious ploy to get you to start talking. “fine. ask me.”

atsumu instantly leans in, conspiratorially covering his mouth with the menu and whispering, “how are you two? it’s been over a month now, right?”

“oi.” you twist your head to smile up at the newcomer. “stop bothering them, ‘tsumu.”

atsumu glares at his twin. “i’m the one who invited ‘em to lunch!”

osamu rolls his eyes and lays down a platter of onigiri in front of you. he snatches the menu and smacks his brother’s wandering hands with it before they get to close. “these are not for you.”

“but that’s a lot!" atsumu whines. "can’t i have any?”

“no,” osamu��says resolutely, then turns to you and gives you the softest smile he can muster, pinning the menu by his side and arm.

"i haven't even ordered yet!" atsumu complains.

osamu ignores him. “let me know what you think.”

“okay,” you say with a smile.

“and let me know if you need to take out anything,” he continues, “i’ll wrap it up for you.” he leans forward and presses a kiss to your temple. “enjoy.”

“thank you, ‘samu,” you tell him before he turns to leave.

he smiles back at you and heads back behind the bar.

atsumu has evidently forgotten about ordering, because his eyes shuttle back and forth between you two before nodding considerably. “so i take it things are going well?”

“yeah,” you admit, picking up an onigiri. “going really well, actually.”

“you’ve been…” atsumu searches for the word, “is it still called ‘dating’? you broke up. but… entertaining each other…?”

“don’t hurt yourself,” you joke. “but yeah. let’s call it dating. and it’s going well, thanks for asking.” you take a bite of the onigiri.

“does he still have a chance?” atsumu asks, genuine curiosity on his face.

you chew thoughtfully as you look back at osamu, who’s smiling at a customer. you remember that bright morning, when he helped you pack, helped you move into your friend’s apartment. when he cooked all that food, and you found it neatly packed away in a thermal bag that had a handwritten note, reminding you to eat well.

you remember the next day, when he showed up at your friend’s door, holding flowers and inviting you out to get some ice cream. you remember his messages, his calls, his check ins on you, littered across the days, asking you how you are or if you’re eating or if you need any food.

you could call him if you needed any help, if you needed anything at all.

but reality sets in when you think of how one phone call could be a mistake, it stops you from searching his name each time you pick up the phone.

in your mind, you see his bent form, his begging, his tears. you remember his smiles and his hugs and his ‘see you later’s, his gradually growing list of unbroken promises. you remember the effort, the time he’s putting into you, putting aside for you. you remember how hard he tries for you.

it's like everything is new again.

his eyes catch yours and he gives you a small wave, and you wave back, your stomach fluttering.

it's not new, you think. it's better.

you swallow your food. it's delicious.

“yeah,” you say softly, “he does.”

#osamu x you #osamu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader fluff #📝 — my writing #osamu miya x reader #miya osamu fluff #osamu angst #x reader angst #hq angst #haikyuu angst

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inactiveaccount-lovendeepsecrets · 2 days ago

Text

Domestic + Intimate Headcanons

*Minus Caleb only because his myth and cards aren't out yet, and I don't feel confident adding him when there's so much lore and little quirks we still don't know about him. I shall make a separate post for him if this goes well.

But Hi! This is my 1st hc so please go easy on me. I believe some of the bullet points on here are canon, but I can’t help talking abt how cute this all is 🫠 I'm not the best writer and I tried so hard to be impartial, but you can probably still tell where my bias lies LOL

As always these are just my opinions!!

tags: headcanon, fluff, mostly gender neutral, but these lean towards an afab + fem!reader, 18+

***MDNI; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something nsfw despite the warnings and will be BLOCKED***

Disclaimer: I personally think all of them like praise, body worship and are humungous eaters. If the specifications aren't noted under your fav LI, it's because I didn't want this too become too redundant!

✵ ✰ ✷ ✭✮ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ ❅ ❆ ❃ 𓆰· 𓆃

Rafayel

SFW

• Has definitely set up a date where you do that TikTok trend painting portraits of each other

• Hates the caricature you two posed for at the amusement park

• On more than one occasion you've (jokingly) threatened to frame said caricature at his gallery to shut him up during an argument

• Is an escape artist. He has a long history of being captured/on the run. It’s no wonder he could easily untie himself from your ropes

• I don't think we talk enough about how rich this man is, but I think he'd be quite into second hand fashion. Think runway archives, vintage designer pieces, custom couture, etc.

• Always drives over the speed limit

• Will never tease you during your art lessons with him

• THE best bf to take pictures of you for your social media accounts. He’d suggest different poses while contorting himself in odd positions on the ground just to get the perfect angle

• Sings you to sleep

• Surprisingly good at doing hair. If you need help dying, braiding, or putting your hair in rollers, he'd actually do a pretty good job.

• Created an entire album on his phone of candid photos he took when you weren't looking

• Also made a scrapbook of polaroids from all your scenic dates and vacations together, most of them are of you

NSFW

• He’s a mermaid. He is the motion of the ocean. The hip movements? Stamina? Best (and prettiest) dick game goes to him, I’m sorry.

• LOUD, noisy, and talkative. Starts to ramble when he’s close

• Wax play? [in the submissive]

• Nipple play [in the submissive]

• Edging + Milking

• I think his open vulnerability makes people think he’s more sub leaning, but some of it’s for show

• Because of your bond, he’ll submit; but he’ll do it in such a way that you’re right where he wants you to effectively make the switch

• Make no mistake, he doesn’t mind subbing from time to time. He loves seeing you on top of him, using his body. He feels a sense of accomplishment being a vessel for your pleasure

• There was a tweet that explained how Raf would be a bit of a bully as a dom, but in the best way (recommended read)

• Chuckles and coos at you after each of your orgasms

• Isn’t into watersports, but gets a massive ego boost if you squ*rt

• Is sometimes overly arrogant about toys, but is also so obsessed with you, that he made you get molds of each other on the rare occasions you’re apart for too long

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚

Sylus

SFW

• Has asked his private chef for a one on one culinary lesson to impress you with a home cooked meal

• A patron and secret lover of the arts. Dabbles in the opera, theatre and certain musicals

• He’s*slightly* better at drawing and singing than he lets on, but loves taking the piss

• This man is so funny, but his life and profession is all too serious, making the small moments of banter more precious for the both of you

• Will also hum to lull you to sleep

• Secret polyglot

• His way of ending petty arguments with you is by throwing you over his shoulder and going to bed

• Retail therapy connoisseur

• Surprisingly handy

• He of course, only likes visiting Linkon to see you, but also likes your apartment. While it’s microscopic in his eyes, he slowly understands what small things make a home feel cozy and tries to replicate that at his

• He’s intrigued by your self care sessions and will often indulge, joining in with the sheet masks, aromatherapy, massages and waxing (he likes the heat of the wax lol). He’ll put on a brave face and deny the pain, boasting about his high tolerance

• Spoils you in general, but especially when you’re sick or on your period

• Will carry you around just cause -much like a typical cat owner who loves to randomly pick up and cuddle their cat LOL

• Would buy out a restaurant for the night and have the orchestra play a medley of some of your favourite songs you’ve discovered from his record collection

• There’s really no such thing as small gestures with him

NSFW

• Marking

• Nipple play (giving and receiving)

• Blindfolds

• Certified munch; almost loves it more than penetrative sex

• AND HE 10000% HOLDS YOUR HANDS WHILE GOING DOWN ON YOU— WHY ISNT THIS WRITTEN MORE IN FICS

• Pleasure dom. He’s not sadistic or a bully when it comes to overstimulation (unlike Raf), he’s the very definition of “will talk you through it”

• Absolutely the type to coo at the sounds and faces you make. You could not look more adorable in his eyes

• Likes watching you solo

• Your satisfaction is his priority, so he’s not intimidated by toys. That being said, he definitely owns a remote vibrator

• Phone sex. No question

• In addition to phone sex, he bought those long distance bluetooth couple’s toys that sync up with each other so it’ll react to both of your movements in real time

• In the submissive, he really loves to see you in control of your own pleasure. He’ll encourage you to use him (eg face sitting, leg humping, cowgirl, etc)

• Slight masochist; those cuffs, paddles and chains are for him 😭 he’s curious to see how far you’ll go. By the end of it all, he’ll use his evol to free himself of whatever restraint he’s under

•As far as a degradation kink, I don’t see it for him, sorry. He adores you too much to call his sweetie a “slut”, “whore”, “filthy,” and so on

• Not as rough as he appears. Really the only time he’s rougher than he realises, is when he’s biting you

• If you want it more aggressive, you’ll have to ask. Even then, he’ll be cautious not to overdo it. The last thing he wants is to hurt you

• It’s canon he loves praise. Giving and receiving

𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡

Xavier

SFW

• Low-key likes to carry you around and his fav way is by piggyback ride (loves being physically close to you and the way you cling to him)

• Will fast all day just for Hotpot or Brazilian steakhouse

• Is much better at baking than cooking

• Leaves you Post-it note love letters in places like mirrors, cabinets, and drawers, before he leaves after spending the night

• Unintentional comedian. He's sometimes taken aback by your laughter, but it only encourages him to keep talking just to hear it again

• He honestly loves sharing things with you; food, books, (his) hoodies, etc. He just doesn’t like sharing YOU

• Would plan a scavenger hunt date

• Is always playing coy because he knows it triggers your cuteness aggression

• The pettiest of petty when he's upset or threatened (look up his affinity lvl 140 video call)

• Sometimes stricter than Zayne when it comes to your health & recovery. He hates to see you over-exerting yourself after an injury and has scolded you before about taking it easy

• Loves to get ready for bed with you at the same time. Showering together, doing skincare together, brushing teeth together; whatever you’re doing he’s either tagging along or sitting there watching you

• When he’s spending the night, he can't fall asleep without you playing with his hair and holding hands

• Learned your favourite flower and has been secretly sneaking into Jeremiah’s greenhouse planting and tending to a small bush of them to gift to you whenever

NSFW

• Thigh job

• Mating press

• Morning sex, specifically morning head (f receiving)

• While going down on you, he def seems like the type to keep going after you’ve climaxed, but he slows down his movements, giving languid kisses to your center to help ride out the wave of pleasure vs intentional overstimulation (though he isn’t against that either)

• It seems that the consensus on here is that he's the best eater of the LIs? I don't necessarily disagree; I'm just not completely sure if that title goes to him quite yet

• The most primal and rough of the LIs. Hair pulling, choking (safely), spanking, leashes

• Also likes it when you’re rough with him

[I know I said I wasn’t confident making any hcs abt Caleb yet, but I have a slight hunch he rivals Xavier for most primal]

• Goes feral when you say his name

• This man is a dom, don’t let the puppy eyes and bunny ears fool you 💀

• He's not as noisy as he is talkative, especially during foreplay

• BOSSY

• I don’t put it past him to feel like he’s in competition with vibrators. He’d rather him use one on you, but knows he’s being irrational

• While he’s not really into feet, he’d suck toes during missionary to see how you’d react

✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸ ✮ ✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸ ✮ ✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸

Zayne

SFW

• Alternatively to Sylus, this man is comprised of small gestures that snowball (hehe) over time. One more meaningful than the next

• While he respects and admires your independence, he needs you to need him. He’ll never vocalise it, but he feels most useful and accomplished when you ask for his help

• Won’t let you carry any bags when you’re out shopping, not even your purse

• Like Rafayel, he also has an album on his phone with pictures of mostly you. Though he feels odd taking your picture when you’re not looking, he’s snuck in a photo or two when you were looking particularly lively mingling with the people at his work event

• Knows your go-to orders at all of your fav restaurants by heart

• Stargazing dates. When either of you are out of town for a while and are catching up on the phone before bed, he’ll tell you to go outside and look at the moon

• After a long shift at work, he’ll kneel by your side of the couch waiting for you to embrace him, hugging and nuzzling your waist

• He also secretly loves being the little spoon

• Subscribed to a delivery service that sends you flowers on your birthday every year

• There’s something about Zayne that makes me think dogs absolutely LOVE him even though he’s not particularly fond of their energetic nature

• Spoils you rotten when you’re on your period. Full princess treatment; plushie heating pads, full body massages, raspberry tea, and hand feeding you snacks. Basically Dr Zayne turns into Nurse Zayne

• He’s more lenient with your cravings, letting you have a small portion of desserts or snacks only after you’ve finished your meal

• Loves your laugh but knows his dry wit won’t always work, so he’ll just tickle you if the joke doesn’t land

• Fell in love with you after the Drunken Intimacy card. It made him realise how much he likes holding you and tending to your needs

• Doesn’t even bother lecturing you about how bad high heels are for your joints and muscles anymore. He now keeps a pair of slippers in his car just in case you start to complain

• He can never resist the urge to kiss your cheek or forehead when he sees you’re fast asleep (Canon 🥹)

NSFW

• Has a weakness for lingerie, lace and stockings

• In the submissive, he’d be just like the kitty butler in his card -the goodest of good boys

• …Feet? I’m not sure if it’s anything freaky. Kudos to whoever clocked that for sub! Zayne months prior to the kitty butler quad banner

• Soft dom, but not as gentle as his voice lets on. He’s already a bit strict with you in your relationship, and he’s the same way in bed. How is he supposed to know what feels good if you don’t vocalise it?

• The only time he’s pretty rough with you is when you provoke him. But he checks in with you to make sure he isn’t being too hard

• Once he loses his control, he gets a tiny bit greedy too (“We’re not done here. Quitting halfway isn’t something I would do” —Silent Poem Secret Times)

• His methods of brat “taming” aren’t anything over the top or domineering. Though he enjoys spanking, he thinks there are better lessons he could teach you to combat your brattiness

• Has definitely gone down on you and stopped altogether right before you climax as a form of punishment

• Shibari + Hitachi -girl run!

• Ice play

• Nipple play (giving and receiving)

• The size of your chest doesn’t really matter to him, he just really likes to hold and massage them. It’s his favourite way to keep his hands warm

• This man is so good with his hands and in more ways than one. The placement and movement of his hands in the Nightly Rendezvous card sent me into orbit. The body worship he’d do is insane

• Needless to say he’s the best at fingering

• You’re irresistible to him. He breathes you into every kiss, deepening as your bodies continue to merge. There’s no sex without passion, even the “quickies”

• Quickies usually only happen when you’ve teased or provoked him too far during (or on your way to) an event. Otherwise, he likes taking his time with you

• He knows your body like the back of his hand. He’s memorised what triggers the sounds, faces, and jolts your body makes

• Much like Xavier, he loves to hear you cry out his name

❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆

#my headcanons #Soft Dom Sylus girlies RISE #love and deepspace #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #xavier x reader #lads x reader #sylus fluff #xavier fluff #zayne fluff #rafayel fluff #18+ mdni #l&ds smut #sylus love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace

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yougavememyopia · 3 days ago

Note

YOU WRITE CRYING MEN SO WELL ITS CRAZY ☹️🙏🙏 CAN WE PLS PLS PLS GET SMUT FOR CRYBABY!YANDERE OMG

Of course :) Pt.1. Pt.2.

Tags: oral (reader receiving), pillow humping, mommy kink (a bit obvious lol), poor communication

Yandere crybaby, who, despite all of his perverted fantasies, would be shy to take things further with you. You'd have to coax it out of him with gentle reassurance. Petting the top of his head, kissing his pouty lips, nibbling on his neck. Slowly drawing lewd whimpers and whines from him. Slowly making him rock hard for you.

But then, at the last frustrating second, where you start to take off his shirt, he'd stop you. Embarrassment with a mix of insecurity in his eyes. Choked up tears and weak excuses muttered from his lips. Making your heart flutter at the sight of beet-redded face. Your fingers wiped his cheek, his lips planting kisses against your palm in return. Taking a few seconds to calm down his breathing, he bore his eyes into yours.

"We don't have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, honey."

Your kind words eased him. But he knew you were bound to get tired of him being a pathetic crying mess. Truth was, he was scared— afraid that you'll hate him if you saw what was underneath his clothes. Afraid that if he didn't satisfy you, you would surely get rid of him. Leave him all alone to rot. Be with someone who was far better than him.

He couldn't let that happen.

"No, hic... You need relief. I-I can do this! I don't want you to be unsatisfied... Hic! I don't want you to go to anyone else for this. I want you to only look at me. Love me. Only me."

He got down between your legs. Rubbing your knees as he gulped, swallowing the saliva that wanted to spill. He felt sweaty. His heart drummed against his ears as tears fell from his eyes.

"Are you sure?" You confirmed it with him one last time, unable to say no to his cute, innocent face. He sniffled as he nodded enthusiastically. He wanted to do this. Not only because he could finally taste you, but also to make himself useful. He wanted to be good for you. He craved your approval; he needed it to survive.

He felt nervous. He had no idea what to do when you hesitantly pulled down your underwear. Just staring at your private...

His pants already creamed just by the sight of your bare pussy. He bit his lip hard, hiding a whimper from the shock of pleasure traveling up his body. Blinking and blinking, the gears in his head turning.

Your brows furrowed in concern. "I don't think we should, um..."

You lost your train of thought when his shaky breaths fanned your mound. An unsure tongue licking the length of your sensitive front. His eyes closed in ecstasy. Already overwhelmed enough by all his other senses. Your familiar smell, your divine taste, your dripping flesh— all driving him crazier. The noise you made caused his stomach to churn.

He pulled away, rubbing his cheek to the soft plush of your thigh instead. "Mmgh, f-feels too good. I..." His hand covered a mewl. "I love you so much..."

"I love you too, baby. But it's not a big deal if you—"

You were cut off again, this time by a surge of good shock shooting through you. He delved in, started to eat you out like a starved man. Licking, sucking, nibbling. His hands grabbing your hips so he could push his tongue further into your hole. Sinful squelching noises filled the room. His nose pressing against your clit with each thrust of his tongue. He wasn't holding back any longer, hiding his face between your thighs.

He slowly began to move his hips. His poor overstimulated cock rubbing against the couch. Aroused again with a fever. His whole body burned. His eyes rolled to the back of his head while he kept going. Movements only getting rougher and faster while you placed your hand on top of his head. Holding his head and bucking into his mouth, chasing release.

You had no idea he could be like this. His docile attitude replaced with something feral. He was moaning like he was in pain. Feeding on your juices to quench his thirst. His hips bumped against the furniture as if he wasn't capable of controlling it. Tears ruining his pretty face even more.

It was only a matter of time before you finished. Your back arching and your toes curling with a loud groan. "Ahhh... Fuck, fuck! Where did all that come from?"

"I-I just want you to be happy... Did I make you happy? Was I good? Are you gonna stay with me? You won't abandon me... right?!"

You sighed, a small smile forming on your face. He clearly had some things to work out. Always needing constant comfort; begging for you to own him, capture him, claim him as yours. He wished he could say the words without tearing up. Ask you to tie him down to your bed and just play with his hair.

He got comfortable with your body. Learning to use his slender fingers and even started to make eye contact when he kitten-licked your sensitive nub. Sobbing happy tears when you slowly stroked his hair. He felt enveloped by your love. Surrounded by you.

The liquid streamed down to his chin. Cries of joy vibrating against your heat while he worked harder to drive you to the edge. Half-lidded eyes staring up at yours as his fingers slid in and out of you rhythmically.

"Such a good boy, aren't you, hon? Yes. Yes, you are. You're my good boy. Ah, fuck, I'm gonna—"

Sometimes, the best way to help him calm down was to let him cuddle up to your chest. Sitting on your lap, head under your shirt— engulfed by your sweet sweet smell— lips moving around your breasts. Licking hot stripes around your areola, sucking on your nipple like a pacifier.

He'd start to get more greedy for your approval. Asking if he did a good job for a basic task, like folding his clothes and putting them away. Or if he was a good boy for not crying when you went to the bathroom. He was adorable— looking at you like a lost child, wanting for you to take care of him.

He couldn't bear to be apart from you for even a moment. Pleading and pleading for you to stay when you wanted to hang out with your friends. You pecked his lips, "Be good, baby. I'll be back in 2 hours. Promise."

He whimpered when you pulled away from him. Yet obeying your words as he should. Plopping down to your shared bed to sniff your scent from the sheets. 2 hours, he could do that.

He started weep pathetically. The droplets soaking your blanket. He cried over far more stupid things than this. A crybaby. That was really all he was. He took your pillow, hugging it tightly as if it would disappear at any moment. His eyes closed shut. Whispering, "Haah... I wish you were hugging me... I wish you were here..."

He tried to be a good boy. Tried to keep himself in check. Tried oh-so hard to stop thinking about it. But eventually, the problem in his pants started to hurt. One of his trembling legs dropped over your pillow, while he found the rewarding angle that gave him the most friction. His hand sneaked into his pocket to grab a pair of hidden underwear, there in case of... emergencies.

You came back to your room to retrieve a forgotten item. Just at the right time— catching him grinding against your pillow mindlessly. Your underwear pressed tightly against his nose as he inhaled and exhaled a wail. Moaning louder and more high-pitched than you've ever heard.

"Nghh... m-mommy... Why...? Why did you have to— hic— leave your poor babyboy....?"

You grinned. The newfound information was a treasure. You always wondered if he was into that title. Too timid to talk to you about things like that. He was just adorable. You could hear how close he was when his voice shook. When he chanted your name as if it would ease the pain. Brows crumpled, and sweat rolled down the skin of his forehead.

"Mommy..." His tongue darted out to lick the heavenly taste off the fabric of your panties. His hips rutted to the pillow until a sad, unsatisfying orgasm hit him. He cried miserably. Nose stuffed while he breathed out whimpers. Drool mixed with other liquids pooled down to splatter the pillow. An unusual angry huff coming from his lips. "Why aren't you here?!? Whywhywhywhy!"

Only if he opened his eyes.

#yandere #desperate yandere #yandere oc #obsessive love #yanblr #pathetic yandere #dom reader #male yandere #pathetic men #sub yandere #yandere x reader #yandere boy #male yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x darling #crybaby yandere #anon ask

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starkeyszn · 3 days ago

Text

late night talking blurb with rafe cameron ⊹ ࣪ ˖

pairing: sweetheart¡maybank x rafe¡cameron

notes: reader is referred to as sweetie, but also includes pet names!

sweetie sighed, hearing her phone repeatedly buzz on her night stand, indicating a phone call was coming through. she rolled on her side, reaching for her phone on her night stand. sweetie saw the caller id ‘rafey ♡’

she was quick to press the green button, the call now going through. rafe’s soft voice, that was only for her, spoke on the other side of the line, “hi sweetheart.”

her raspy voice tinged, “hi rafey.” he was quick to notice her raspy voice, “did i wake you, shit ‘m sorry.”

she quickly cut him off, “you’re good—i wasn’t fast asleep anyway.” “is something wrong—?” sweetie added, glancing to the clock that was on her bedside table, reading the time, 12:23AM.

“no, jus’ missed hearing your pretty voice.” rafe replied, “wish you were here.” he trailed off.

“me too rafe, but i’ll see you soon, kay?”

“of course you will, i’ll take you out tomorrow, how’s that sound, hm?”

sweetie smiled, rolling on her back, still holding the phone to her ear, “sounds perfect rafey.”

“you know, you’re the only one who i let call me that, only like it comin’ from your sweet mouth.”

sweetie giggled, “i don’t know why you hate it so much, it’s personally adorable.”

“ ‘m not all about that adorable shit, you know that princess—only when it comes to you.” “only me?” she questioned.

“only and just you, baby.” rafe replied, the flirtatious tone evident in his voice. “anyways, tell me about your day.”

sweetie immediately brightened at the chance to ramble, even though it was late at night, she could talk for days, “well! i went surfing with kie, hm—oh! i baked some cookies! i also got my nails done with sar… i took maple [dog] out for a walk, i need to take her to the beach soon—”

rafe sighed softly, holding the phone closer to his ear.

sweetie heard his sigh, making her frown, “am i talking too much? — i’m sorry!” rafe was quick to reply, “no baby, keep going, i love your voice, continue about maple.”

she blushed on the other end of the phone, her cheeks heating up, “well uhm— maple also actually has found a new liking to watermelon, she absolutely loves it! whenever i find myself having some, she’s always sitting there patiently waiting for some-” sweetie cut herself off, giggling, the image of her dog popping up in her mind.

the pair talked for another half an hour, mainly sweetie, because rafe insisted on her to keep talking, just because he loved her voice so much it soothed him.

“i’ll let you get some sleep now, baby, i’ll pick you up tomorrow around six, sounds good?” rafe spoke.

sweetie was about to nod, before realising rafe can’t see her, “sounds perfect.”

“see you tomorrow darling.”

“goodnight rafey.”

“goodnight angel.”

lex’s notes; my sweethearts 🩷🩷 my first blurb on tumblr 😓 , i hope it’s good, sorry it’s so short, also idk who the divider creds are! they’ve been in my camera roll for ages </3

#⊹ ࣪ ˖ sweetheart maybank¡reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #rafe x reader #blurb #rafe cameron blurb #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey

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just-another-hippie · 3 minutes ago

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OKAY LETS DO IT

1. It's super fucking complicated !!

2. @decomposing-atm <3

3. An awful lot, way too much to list here and basically all about my childhood :(

4. Ehh 50/50

5. Taken <3

6. I've been debating this for ages and I'm still not sure

7. Uhhh homemade wild berry compote on Greek yoghurt (fuckin fancy ik)

8. Yep! I was very athletic when I was younger but then illnesses and eds SLAPPED me so I stopped for a while, but I'm getting into bouldering and weightlifting now that I'm recovered :]

9. HELL NO

10. Uhh when my older stepsister was round last weekend because she likes to hurt me totally unprompted ://

11. My boyfie hehe

12. Uhhhh maybe?? I've pulled so many all-nighters I can't remember

13. I don't hate people because I believe it's bad for my mental health, I tend to set boundaries and burn bridges if people are bad to me, then wish them the best and hope that one day they will truly find happiness and become a better person

14. A lot of people :(

15. YES!! My cat hermione hehe I'll post a pic of her cause she's super duper cute

16. Ehh a bit mixed atm, I'm just making sure I keep fighting because I'm sure as shit gonna make it out alive.

17. No and as "sexy" as it seems I am also a MASSIVE germaphobe so please can we do it somewhere nicer /silly

18. VERY VERY VERY FUCKING MUCH GOD DAMN

19. Definitely, and I know exactly when in my childhood :/

20. Uhhh I think his room HAHA

21. Yikes umm

22. I don't plan to have bio kids because I'm anti-natalist, but if I was in the right headspace then I would adopt older kids which got left in the system

23. I have 5 piercings, double lobe piercings in both ears and a septum piercing! I'm getting snakebites next year and I'll think about what else after that!

24. Uhhh idk I hate school so bad >:(

25. Very very much so :(

26. Chocolate HAHA

27. N/A

28. N/A

29. N/A

30. The state of the world, my home life, my lack of organisation??

31. Yes!!

32. I think green, but I love colours so I'm not sure, I'm more about vibes

33. DEFO

34. Uhh last night it was hugging @strawberri-bomb-bomb which was hella sweet because I miss them

35. Unfortunately my mother

36. I used to an awful lot, but I absolutely don't anymore

37. I may forgive but I never forget

38. Fuck yeah it will be

39. 14 <3

40. I fear not /silly

(Apparently they skipped some)

51. Man I love food so much I literally couldn't pick LMAO

52. I used to, but I lost my faith last year, I'm trying to get back to that sense of peace I had in knowing that what will be will be

53. Talk to my boyfie and drink chamomile tea

54. Absolutely fucking not!! unless you're trapped in an abusive relationship that you've tried to leave, any other circumstance go fuck yourself

55. No!! My whole thing is about peace, love, and kindness!!

56. Uhh not too many I hope

57. Absolutely 100000000%

58. SUNSHINE!!!!!

59. Hell yes, I wish we had it more where I live i love it sm :((

60. Yes!!

61. YES!!

62. So much that it deserves its own list

63. I already have socially but I will legally on my birthday!! If we mean change my name from my name now then I'm not inclined to, but I wish I chose a cooler name /j

64. The only challenge is distance /j

65. Then I'd tell them no thank you let's stay friends!!

66. Uhh I pick my friends very wisely so I'm comfortable around all of them I think, but some more than others

67. I have no idea I've slept for ages and it was like a coma /silly

68. Uhhhh I don't know maybe my boyfie??

69. ABSOLUTELY

70. The people closest to my heart

I did itttt!!

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

#just another hippie 🌕#asks 💫

352K notes · View notes

megamindsecretlair · 1 day ago

Note

hey i just need something real nasty between husband and wife with mr.aaron (i say it key and peele😂😂) with some angst before the actual plot🤭

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive, beautiful.

Made You Fall For Me

Pairing: Husband!Terry Richmond x Wife!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Cursing, teasing (fem and male receiving), PIV, oral (female receiving), Reader is able to be picked up, use of pet names, angst. Mentions of death of a loved one, trauma. All consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: It had been two weeks since the anniversary of Mike’s death and Terry still beat himself up over it. Tired of Terry not letting you in, you join him in the shower and show him that he has a life to lead right here and now with you. Story by @uniqueoutlierblog

Word Count: 5,371k

AO3 Link

A/N: Thank you so much for dealing with my hiatus. I'm stronger mentally than I have ever been. Definitely worked on myself and stopped being so hard on myself. The kind asks really helped me find my way back, so have this smutty fic as a giant thank you! Thank you so much for all your continued support! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Terry sighed as he entered the bedroom. You looked up from your phone to watch your husband.

His tall frame moved fluidly around the space, taking off of his pants and his shirt. It was soaked through having just finished at the gym. He sat on the edge of the bed to fling off his socks and toss it in the knit hamper.

“Hey babe,” you said.

“Hey baby,” Terry sighed.

You stared at the back of his head as his shoulders drooped the longer he sat on the bed. He looked so…dejected. Like someone sucked the air from his tires. You leaned up and let your powder blue throw blanket fall from your shoulders.

This was the second week in a row that your husband was still in this funk. Two weeks since the anniversary of Mike’s death where it seemed like Terry relived it all over again. It started with a dream, the very moment he ran into the hospital carrying Summer. Hopped up on adrenaline, a bullet in his shoulder, and him looking for the next threat.

Then he would slowly withdraw mentally, checking out of conversations. Floating through the motions of going to work and getting back home. You were worried that he would get into an accident but he was able to operate on auto-pilot, navigating the world just as he normally would.

It was both sad and amazing that he was able to do so. But this wasn’t your husband. This was a guilt ridden man who sometimes realized that he had no family. You were his family, of course, but he had no living blood relative alive. Mike was his one and only connection and that was severed by hate and pride.

“Baby, will you please talk to me?” You asked. You fiddled with the edge of your phone. He wasn’t facing you, but you were still nervous to look at his face. You didn’t know which would be worse. Hearing you and choosing not to speak or not hearing you at all because he was lost somewhere you couldn’t reach?

“I-I’m trying,” he said. He tilted his head to the side. You longed to comfort him, hold him, console him in some way. But every time you reached out, he would stare at you as if he couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t feel you.

You didn’t know how to help him through this. You’ve lost people, sure, but you always had enough family and friends to fall back on. You didn’t know what it was like for him and he was too stubborn to let you take some of his pain.

You moved forward and crawled on the bed towards him. He stiffened as you got closer and you wrapped your arms around him anyway. You held on and placed your hand over his heart. It beat rapidly beneath your fingers and you inwardly sighed in relief. He was still in there. His heart still beat.

“You have to stop beating yourself up about this. He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself forever,” you said. You kissed his back and rested your cheek on his skin. He was always so warm, like your own personal fire pit. But due to the sweat, he was cold and clammy.

“I was supposed to protect him. That was my one and only job,” Terry said.

“You were supposed to love him. But what happened was out of your control,” you said.

Terry sighed and stood up, breaking your embrace. He hung his head as he walked to the bathroom. The door closed decisively and you flinched from the harsh sound. The light turned on underneath the doorway. The shower turned on and you didn’t hear anything further.

Some days you wanted to knock your husband’s teeth in. His overprotective instincts went into hyperdrive, past the point of what was healthy. He refused to think of himself and the consequence be damned. Other times, you just wanted to wrap him in a floofy blanket and never let him out of your sight. You couldn’t very well fault him for wanting to keep you safe when you were the exact same way.

But this…it varied on when he’d be able to pull himself out of this. Sometimes you’d say or do something to bring him back. Sometimes he’d take a deep breath and release that dark cloud. And sometimes, he’d disappear for a whole day and return back to the sweet, loving man you married.

But fuck this. You missed your husband. And you were tired of seeing him walk around like a zombie. You got out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom.

Steam rushed out and passed over your exposed skin. You closed the door behind you and noted the discarded underwear on the floor and a red towel on the edge of the sink. Terry’s silhouette moved just behind the foggy glass doors.

You quickly stripped, flinging your lavender sleep set to the ground with his briefs. You stuffed your bonnet beneath a shower cap and slid the glass doors back. Terry looked over his shoulder at you and you entered the spacious shower behind him.

The custom shower with tiles painted in different shades of brown was roomy enough for about three people comfortably if they were all intimate. Water cascaded down from a waterfall shower head, pouring down over Terry’s strong body. Water dripped from the edge of his wide nose, his full lips, and his well-defined chest. You followed the trail of water down his belly and over his long, thick dick. Water fell down in his long legs and huge feet.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m taking a shower,” you said. You shoved past him and grabbed your wash cloth, pulling it under the spray of water to get it wet.

Terry huffed. “Had to be now?” He asked.

“Yup,” you said, popping the ‘P’. Instead of grabbing your favorite soap, you grabbed his and lathered up the wash cloth.

“C’mon,” Terry said. He tugged on your arm for you to turn around.

You did so and slapped the wash cloth against his chest. “I miss you,” you said, cutting off whatever he was about to say. He closed his mouth and grimaced, jaw flexing.

You flattened both of your hands against his chest and stepped closer. Water hit your back at a lukewarm temperature. You had no clue how he could shower like this but that wasn’t the point. “I miss my husband and I need you to come back, right now,” you said.

Terry closed his eyes and his long eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. His mouth worked like he wanted to say something but the words never came. Whatever he wanted to say lodged in his throat and he couldn’t choke it out.

“So after this shower, you better step out of it and remember that you did everything right for Mike. And he made his own choices. That’s not your fault. It has never been your fault. And it’s time you accept that,” you said.

You moved the wash cloth over his skin, scrubbing him down. Soap transferred to his body in thick suds, falling down his skin. He watched you and shut his mouth as you scrubbed him all over his chest and moved on to his arms.

His eyes never left yours as you massaged the cloth between his fingers. He sighed and hummed as you found tense spots. You rubbed him deeper in those areas, working out the tension.

You maneuvered behind him so he could rinse and then washed his back, creating big circles of soap. You moved down to his ass, teasing him a bit. He grunted and then chuckled. Well, that was a good sign. If he was chuckling then at least he was starting to relax.

You washed down his legs, tickling him in areas. He danced out of your way and you warned him to be careful in this slippery ass shower.

“If you die, I’ll bring you back and kill you again,” you warned.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said and smirked.

You worked your way back to his front. His dick twitched and bobbed in your face. You looked up at him and his head was tilted to the side as he looked down at you. Fuck, he was pretty like this. Above you, staring at you, and in all his naked glory.

He needed to walk around like this more often. For your eyes only. That beautiful male body needed to be on display 24/7.

You looked at his dick and then slowly dragged your eyes up his body and back to his striking ocean eyes. He took in a deep breath as his mouth curved upward. The rise and fall of his chest had an answering throb in your clit. You dropped to your knees on the hard flooring but it barely registered in your mind.

Your husband worked his way back to you in the best way you both knew how. Sex was everything to the both of you. The one way you knew you were on solid ground. From the moment you two met, it had been electric and consuming. Always finding ways to touch each other or be near each other and breathe each other’s air.

You dragged the wash cloth over his dick. At the first press of your hand, he hissed and jerked his hips towards you. You steadied your left hand on his hip and then stroked him with your right.

He lifted his head towards the showerhead and let the water run down his face. Since he leaned back, water fell on top of your head and face but you kept looking towards him and the look on his face.

He was hands down the most beautiful man you had ever met. And the kindest. He wasn’t always nice. He had more than enough words to say about folks that crossed him. But he was always kind, always treated people with respect. And he was a gentleman on top of it. Always opened your doors, always stood on the side of the street closest to danger. Every day, you found new ways to fall in love with your man. You only wished he’d forgive himself.

“I love you. And I miss you. I need you to come back,” you told him. You increased the pressure, giving him long, slow strokes. All the way down to his base, squeezed, and then worked your way back to his tip.

He groaned and rolled his neck, moving his hips. Your pussy throbbed seeing cum leak from his tip. He leaned one hand on the side of the shower, fingers pushing into the grooves.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“You have to let me in when things get dark, Terry. I don’t like feeling like I’m on the outside,” you told him.

Terry nodded his head and his eyes turned darker. But he didn’t look so far away now. His eyes were clearer, more present. “I hate feeling like I failed,” he said. His jaw flexed and you matched him stare for stare.

“You did everything you possibly could. You deserve a life too. Not to punish yourself for the life Mike doesn’t have,” you said. You paused stroking and let the sound of the shower fill the room.

Steam rose to the ceiling in wispy clouds. Soap and water rushed down Terry’s body. His chest rose and fell in heaving sighs but then evened out. Once his breathing returned to normal, you began stroking him again.

He groaned and dropped his head as you increased your strokes. You watched his face and watched the emotions play across his features. His lush lips parted and he moaned, deeply and guttural. “I’m gonna bust,” he moaned.

“Give it to me,” you whispered, just loud enough to be heard above the spray of water. You kept your same pace and three strokes later, Terry’s dick throbbed and his cum splashed onto your neck and titties.

Terry’s moans were sweet music to your ears. You grinned evilly and kept stroking. He jerked and stuttered with chuckles and reached out to still your hands. He huffed and chuckled, giving you a saucy wink.

He pulled you up by your arms and crushed his lips to yours as soon as you were within reach. He grabbed the cloth from your hands and hung it on the lip of the shower door. He cupped your neck in both hands and angled your face to meet his rough kisses. You moaned into his mouth. You missed this. You missed him. So damn badly.

The ache in your chest finally lifted now that your man was back. He healed and soothed with every kiss, every swipe of his tongue, every caress of his thumb on your wet skin. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he harshly whispered between kisses.

“It’s okay,” you whispered back.

Terry pulled back and looked into your eyes. He narrowed his and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I will call and get help later today. There’s no excuse for how I’ve been acting. You deserve better from me,” he said.

You tilted your head and kissed his wrist. “I do. But I also know we’re in this for life. So I need you to let me in more,” you said.

Terry nodded. “I promise. Thank you, for sticking with me through this shit,” he said.

“That’s what wives are for,” you said with a giggle.

Terry took a deep breath and then a mischievous gleam made his hazel eyes twinkle. A smirk curved his lips and he began to massage your neck. You hummed and your eyes drooped. “Husbands are for protecting you and taking care of you, right?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said slowly, eyeing him. He was up to something…

Terry flipped you around and pressed your chest against the glass shower doors. You cried out from the sudden cold on your nipples as he pushed until your titties flattened against the doors. He kicked your legs wider to spread for him and your body shivered from his casual roughness.

“T-Terry,” you sighed.

Terry locked your arms behind you, hooking his arm around your elbows so that you were unable to move. Terry licked the shell of your ear and you shuddered. He slipped his free hand around your throat to pull your neck back and rest your head on his shoulder.

“I’m gonna make up for my bullshit,” he promised with heat laced through every syllable.

“Terry, you don’t–”

Terry cut you off by moving his hand from your neck to his dick. He ran the tip through your dripping folds and then plunged inside with a rough thrust. “Oh shit!” You cried out, twisting your hands to try and slow him down. But because he had your arms trapped, you had no choice but to take his dick.

He angled your hips into a more comfortable position and then he slipped his hand back around your throat. He grunted with every deep thrust, filling you up, and making you take it.

“Too much, too much,” you whined, trying to lean away from him. Terry pushed into you harder, pinning you to the door, while he continued to fuck you. Your forehead leaned on the doors and your breath fogged up the glass with your moans and sighs.

“You can take it, baby,” he said, sinking you deeper and harder onto his length. He kissed your neck, licked and nibbled in areas, and moved upwards to your ear. “I love you so much. And I know I’ve been an ass. I haven’t been fair to you,” he whispered in your ear while he continued to dig into your guts.

You weren’t quite prepared for him to be so sweet and so nasty all at once. He gave you no time to fully hear his message or fully focus on his dick inside you so you were stuck in a twisted limbo. Suspended between absolute pleasure and your heart swelling with emotions.

“That ends today, okay? I’ll prove that I’ll do better,” he said. He grunted and cursed under his breath.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you moaned.

“That’s my job as your husband. And it’s a job I take seriously,” he said. He smiled against your neck and then pulled you into a rough kiss over your shoulder. Your lips danced and played with each other as your orgasm rushed to the surface.

You began to cry and stutter as it washed over you. Terry moaned as you squeezed around his dick. “Fuck, that’s it,” he panted into your ear.

When you came down, Terry let your arms go. He slipped out with a grunt and stepped back. You missed the heat of him instantly. He rubbed the feeling back into your arms from having them bent back for so long. He grabbed the discarded wash cloth from the top of the shower and rinsed it out.

He lathered up with his soap and then carefully washed down your back and your ass. His finger slipped between your cheeks to tease as he washed you down and you giggled with him.

Terry turned you around and washed down your front. Washed the cum from your chest that didn’t rinse off from the water. You smiled at each other, finding your way back with every swipe of the cloth across your titties, your tummy, and down your thighs. He ran the cloth between your legs, careful not to get soap in between, and you moaned just from having his hands on you again.

His lips on yours. His eyes seeing you again after weeks of zoning out. Hints of your husband poked through that barrier he erected and now you were let in behind the wall. You grinned at him and leaned on your toes for a kiss.

The kiss was meant to be innocent and sweet, just something to show that you loved him. That you were there and never letting him disappear again. But Terry kissed you deeper, grabbing you about the neck once more and crushed his lips to yours.

His tongue slipped inside and then he gently nibbled on your bottom lip with his teeth. “Terry,” you sighed. Your stomach flipped with desire. Pussy throbbing. Once wasn’t nearly enough.

“I know,” he said. He lifted your chin and brought you in for a sweet kiss. He deepened the kiss even as he maneuvered you towards the shower wall. He lifted you by the ass to wrap your legs around his hips.

“Fuck,” you cried out. It never ceased to amaze you that he was so strong. He worked hard in the gym to take care of himself but also to lift every pound you had. He lifted without effort, without strain, and grinned when he caught the look on your face.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Terry said. He stared into your eyes as he pushed back into you. Back into your warm, wet heat and you both groaned as he pushed in slowly, all the way down to the base.

Your nails dug into his back and shoulders, clutching on for dear life. He was huge and thick. Long. He pulled back and then sank in once more, repeating this over and over to make you feel every last inch of him. Feel his mushroom head push against your soft, spongy walls welcoming him in.

Your mouth dropped open, needing to release something. A cry, a moan, a word. Nothing came as he stroked into you, increasing with each one. Soon, he was slamming into you. His wet, loud strokes echoed in the tiled shower and your cries soon joined it.

“You feelin’ me?” He asked.

You nodded. You adjusted your arms around his neck and he dropped his forehead to yours.

“Look at me,” he whispered. You locked your eyes with him and it somehow made his strokes even more intense. He throbbed inside you.

“You feel me. Right here and now. I’m not going anywhere. I’m never going away again,” he moaned while he stroked.

“Terry,” you sniffled.

Fuck, this was all you ever wanted. You didn’t need him to be perfect. You didn’t need him to be a textbook definition of a husband. You just wanted him present and with you. Sharing his pain and his joys. Sickness and health. Better and worse. Those were the vows you swore before a room full of your close friends and family.

“I feel you. I feel you right here,” you promised.

Terry switched up his strokes, getting deeper than before and bottoming out. You both groaned and threw your heads back, getting lost in the sensation of him filling you up. Connecting the both of you. As close as you could possibly be to another human being.

Terry leaned down and kissed you, playing with your lips, even as his hips slammed into you over and over. Pressure built in your belly, making your thighs quake and your arms tremble. “Terry, please, I can’t,” you begged. It was too much. It felt like you were out of control, out of your norm, unrooted.

Terry only continued exactly what he was doing. “You’re taking me so well, baby. You can keep going,” he said.

Your eyes swam and your vision turned blurry as you clung to him and came undone on his dick again. Your cries were loud enough to echo and bounce off of the tiled walls and ceiling, giving you a feedback loop of your own pleasure. It amplified your orgasm and you shut your eyes and surrendered to the overwhelming feeling.

Terry kissed you all over your face, neck, and shoulders. He pumped you into you until his own hips stuttered and shot loads of thick cum into your pussy. You whined and shivered as he fucked his cum deeper and deeper.

He slowed to a gradual stop and you stayed connected like that while you both recovered. Water still pelted the both of you and you kissed on each other, soaking up the moment. Terry leaned over and turned off the water, still holding you.

He smiled and kissed your lips. He nuzzled your nose. “Missed this,” he said.

“Me too,” you said. You kissed his cheek.

Terry carefully stepped out of the shower with you still wrapped around him like a spider monkey. You were glad. Because now that you had him back, you weren’t ready to let him go. As if you would keep him here with you by sheer force of will.

He moved the towel from the edge of the sink and placed you down, slipping out of you. You kissed and loved on each other while he dried the both of you off. Greedy for more, you reached between you to play with his heavy balls.

Terry groaned and tilted his head down at you. “You sure you wanna do that?” He asked.

You continued fondling his balls, rubbing them between your fingers, and making him moan. His hips canted towards yours and you bit your lip, needing him back inside. Two orgasms weren’t enough. No number would satisfy you.

“It’s been too long,” you pouted and looked at him.

He chuckled and kissed you, taking possession of your poked out lip. He suckled on it and you moaned, feeling your pussy respond and ache from just this small action.

“Get that sexy ass on our bed. Let me clean up in here and I’ll take care of that,” he said.

You pouted again and whined but he bit your lip. “Now.” He deepened his voice and arched a perfect eyebrow at you.

You rolled your eyes and his eyebrow lifted higher. You grinned and hopped off the sink. While being punished for your attitude would be fun, you just wanted him right now. No extras, no games. You wanted to enjoy him and enjoy his body.

He smacked your ass as you walked out and he chuckled after you shrieked and hid your ass behind your hands. You skipped to your bedroom and laid down on your bed. Cool air blew across your damp skin but it wasn’t freezing or uncomfortable.

The temperature was just right to make you hyper aware of your body. Of the feel of your skin and the thorough fucking Terry just gave you. Your pussy was still sensitive but you couldn’t resist teasing your clit. You ran your other hand along your skin, your belly, and your titties. Squeezing your nipple between your fingers and moaning from the dual sensations.

“Terry…” you called out, drawing out his name. If he didn’t get in here soon, you were about to take matters into your own hands.

The afternoon sun was setting low, rich oranges and golds slanting through your curtains and casting a warm glow about your room. Most days, you hated that your place faced east and west, but on lazy days like today, it was perfect.

Terry moved about the bathroom, you had no clue what he was doing. So you closed your eyes and continued to play with yourself. You grew wetter by the second, your mind filling in with images of Terry’s broad chest. His narrow hips. That monster he had between his legs and the unbridled pleasure he managed to provide every single time.

God, you loved that man. In every which way you were able to get him. You didn’t have the words to convey it but you’d spend the rest of your life trying to find them.

You moaned as your imagination took over. Replaying what happened in the shower, the look on his face, the fire in his hazel eyes. You sighed as Terry entered the room.

“Oh, you bold,” he said, his voice laced with amusement.

You didn’t stop though. You spread your legs further and shifted on the bed so that he could get a clearer view. “All warmed up for you,” you teased.

Terry’s eyes dropped to the core of you, at the way you held your pussy lips open. Your other hand teased around your clit in figure eights, dipping into your pussy every so often to gather up more essence.

Terry’s tongue swiped out to lick from one side to the other. Your fingers lost their rhythm. “Keep going,” he commanded.

You whined and started up again but you couldn’t think straight. Not with him leaning against the wall looking at you like you were a five course meal and he was a starving man. When you just couldn’t find that spot again, Terry smirked and walked closer.

“What happened?” He asked.

“You,” you said.

Terry smirked and took his time kneeling at the edge of the bed. He grabbed your thighs and pressed his thumbs to your inner thighs, massaging them. “Fuck,” you moaned and twisted, trying to close your legs and trap his hands there.

“Naw. Open back up. That’s what you get for trying to handle it yourself,” he said.

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you,” you said and smirked. Terry lifted an eyebrow but his eyes were still on your throbbing pussy. He had to see how you were clenching around nothing. Clenching and reaching for him.

He leaned down and kissed your clit. He retreated too quickly for your blood and you whined, pushing your hips back towards his face.

“I’m still apologizing so I won’t make you beg this time,” he said. Without further ado, he dragged his pink, juicy lips through your folds, hunting for your clit. His tongue darted out and teased, dragging the tip through your folds. His tongue was warm as it flattened against your clit and he licked.

“Fuck!” You screamed out.

Terry smiled between your legs before getting down to business. He suckled and licked and nibbled while he feasted on your pussy. Your pussy throbbed and ached while he slurped up your essence noisily.

“Fuck, baby. Right there,” you moaned.

Terry locked in to the spot and swirled his tongue around in tight circles. You clutched to the covers, nails digging in for dear life as you twisted and jerked. You reached down to grab onto the back of his head and push his head deeper.

Terry placed his hands to your thighs and pinned them to the bed while he ate you out, never stopping for breath. He just ate like a man possessed until you were twitching and crying out on his tongue, reaching your climax in record time.

Terry continued to eat you out through it, whispering into your pussy how perfect and sexy you were. How much he had to make up for. Your throat was scratched raw from all the moaning you were doing, too spent to respond. To tell him that he didn’t have a damn thing to make up for. His pain was valid and he had a right to see it through, but he had to see it through. Not just disappear into his head.

None of that came through. Your vision swam as you looked at the popcorn ceiling, too blissed out to form a coherent sentence. Terry replaced the view of the ceiling, leaning down on his fists, as he smirked at you.

“Still with me?” He asked.

“Always,” you sighed.

He chuckled as he climbed onto the bed. It dipped beneath his weight, jostling you a bit. His knees pushed your legs on top of his thighs. His eyes sparkled as he slipped into you, meeting no resistance from your pussy.

“Shit,” you grunted. You pushed feebly at his chest. Not necessarily to make him stop, but fuck, you needed time to recover. Time to catch your breath. He stole the motherfucker, the least he could do was let you gain it back.

“Nothing feels better than this,” he said. He sank deeper into you, making you curl into him and squeeze his hips with your legs. He grabbed both of your hands and pinned them above your head, poking your chest out for his lips to capture your nipples.

He suckled on them, going back and forth between the two, while he fucked into you lazily. Unhurried. Like he managed to pause time long enough to focus on delivering you pleasure. His eyes found yours and he smiled, his dazzling grin turning you stupid and pliant.

He groaned as he felt your body relax and he dug into you, harder, deeper, faster. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you,” you moaned.

“Cum with me, baby,” he said.

You whined and focused on cumming with him like he said. You could feel him throbbing inside you, close, oh so close. You panted, sweating, legs trembling, back bowing. He leaned to one side so that he could slip his free hand between your legs to play with your clit.

Your moans increased to a near panic as your orgasm came running at his beck and call. You cried out and your squeezing pussy milked him. He moaned and dropped his head as he spilled into you over and over, his body trembling from the force.

He kissed your cheek but you otherwise laid there and enjoyed the feeling of him crushing you to the bed. Who needed oxygen anyway?

Your stomach rumbled, breaking the beautiful silence after such a powerful moment. You both laughed as it rumbled again. Terry released your hands and you covered your tummy. He pushed your hands away with his chin and then kissed your belly.

“We’re gonna need another shower and then I need to feed my wife,” he said.

“Feed your wife or feed your wife?” You asked, waggling your eyebrows. You were spent and tired but you could find another round in you for him. Always for him.

“Both, nasty ass,” he said. He stood up and then pulled you with him to stand as well. He gave you a sweet, tender kiss and promised over and over with both his tongue and his actions that he would become a man worthy of your love.

The end.

I love you all. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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earlysunshines · 2 days ago

Text

you bewitch me (every second you're with me.)

hufflepuff!danielle marsh x slytherin!fem!reader; angst, fluff

synopsis: danielle is stubborn. that’s a fact. her friends tell her to stay away from you—you’re the epitome of a slytherin and bad news as a whole. but danielle, being herself, does not listen whatsoever, which somehow works out in the end.

warnings: i don't know enough ab harry potter to be writing this ; or maybe i do ; slow burn ; anything that comes w harry potter idk ; reader has terrible parents, reader has LORE ; theyre so smitten and soft for each other im gonna sob ; everyone but hyein are around the same age but lalala older and younger sides of the grade exist ; anything else i didn't mention ; not proofread

a/n: fun fact i am a slytherin but the first time i took a harry potter sorting thing but every other time i got slytherin and i just took one and i am still slytherin so ignore the slytherin hate in this bc its WRONG slytherins r FIRE!!! omg also bruh my obsession with (these types of titles)... they're always dani too LOL. ALSO i rly liked writing this and spent a lot of time this is another favorite of mine.

danielle marsh embodies the spirit of a hufflepuff down to the bone. she’s friendly, easygoing, and effortlessly kind. ask anyone about danielle, and you'll hear nothing but glowing praise for her.

her personality and liveliness are the reason she’s friends with people from other houses. her best friends, hanni and minji, are ravenclaws that were drawn to her radiance from the moment they bumped into each other before being sorted into their houses. five years later, the trio is still inseparable, whether it’s studying, practicing spells, or even mentoring an underclassman they’ve unofficially adopted—hyein.

“so, how was your first week back?” danielle asks as hyein lazily kicks a crumpled-up piece of parchment along the floor.

“ugh, i can’t keep up with professor bae,” hyein groans. “she’s already assigning work during the beginning of the term. mind you, it just started.”

minji chuckles, patting the younger girl on the back. “it only gets worse from there, but you’ll get used to it! you had her last year and you survived. plus, you’re a third year now! third-year transfiguration is much more interesting this year, you actually learn spells that aren’t turning bugs into… bigger bugs.”

“yeah but transfiguration as a whole is going to kill me.” hyein sighs.

“hey! don’t talk like that… i’m always here to help you with anything hyein. professor bae is nice once you get under her skin. she just has a unique teaching style.”

hanni, who’s rolling her eyes at danielle, chimes in, “that’s easy for you to say dani, every professor loves you. even professor seong likes you. he hates everyone.”

danielle just giggles, shaking her head. “well, he’s a tough one, but if you just did his work and participated—”

before she can finish, minji–who’s been walking ahead and distractedly watching danielle—turns a corner and collides head-on with someone. there’s a thud as books clash onto the ground, and minji stumbles back, wide-eyed.

“i’m so sorry—” minji blurts out, bending down to pick up a fallen book before freezing mid-motion.

the person in front of her is you.

y/n l/n.

you stand there, calm and unflinching, though your gaze is sharp as it lands on minji, like a dagger pointed right at her. your expression is unreadable, jaw tightening just slightly as you flick your wand to retrieve your fallen book.

minji opens her mouth to apologize again, but her voice falters.

it’s danielle who cuts in, stepping forward with her signature brightness to interrupt the tension in the air. “hey, excuse me, you just bumped into my friend—”

before she finishes her sentence, hanni elbows her sharply, and your piercing gaze shifts to danielle. for a moment, you study her, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as if searching for something beneath her easy smile.

the corridor feels heavier, and quieter, as you finally give her one last look before walking past without a word. the group is left frozen in place, but danielle turns around to call out for you again.

“hey! excuse—” hanni elbows danielle once more, giving her a serious look.

you don’t even turn at the sound of danielle’s voice. your posture is perfect as you continue to walk, your steps echoing throughout the hall.

“dani, are you crazy?” hanni breaks the following silence, scolding her with a voice that’s barely above a whisper. then, she turns to the oldest of the bunch. “minji, you just—”

“i know,” minji mutters, her eyes narrowing at your figure before you turn the corner, disappearing into the next hall.

danielle blinks, confused by her friends’ reactions. “what’s her deal? who was that?”

hanni spins around, grabbing danielle’s shoulders like she’s trying to shake sense into her. “dani, danielle, are you serious? that was y/n l/n.”

“oh, her? she’s the keeper for slytherin, right?”

“yes, but dani. is that all you—?” minji cuts herself off, her tone urgent before she continues, “she’s the slytherin. like, the epitome of a slytherin. she’s smart, sharp, and cold as ice—allegedly. plus, no one’s ever seen her smile unless it’s during quidditch. i know i haven’t.”

“so?” danielle shrugs, and a giggle slips from her lips. “she’s just like us, no? a slytherin, sure, but still. i mean they always stray from hufflepuffs, i’ve heard some things but i never took them that seriously…”

“you don’t get it, danielle.” hanni then turns to hyein, “i mean i’d understand if hyein didn’t know her, she’s only a second year but we’re literally in our sixth year and you don’t—” hanni groans, gripping danielle’s shoulders tighter. “her family is like, insane. her parents are famous pure-bloods, super influential at the ministry of magic, and filthy rich. their legacy at hogwarts is well-known, they have an effect on some of our curriculum bro. and? y/n is scary. did you see her?”

“she’s not scary,” danielle argues, brushing off hanni’s dramatics. from what danielle saw, you were simply just a girl. a slytherin girl with an intense look and a rude approach to others. nothing crazy. “she’s not all that from what i can tell, not from moments ago and her quidditch matches.”

hanni grabs danielle, hugging her and setting her forehead on one shoulder exasperatedly as she closes her eyes. “you’re crazy, danielle.”

“completely insane,” minji agrees, though her voice still holds a hint of awe.

meanwhile, hyein, who has been quietly observing, adds her own input. “she did seem kinda scary.”

danielle sighs, shaking her head as the group begins walking again. “you all are being ridiculous. she’s just like anyone else, i bet. who cares what her parents do, we’re all equals.”

but even as she says it, she can’t help but think about how your eyes lingered on her, as if peeling back the cheerful exterior to find something underneath. something about it unsettled her—but she’d never admit it out loud.

“i don’t think she would see you as one.” minji admits, biting the inside of her lip. “she’s not friends with any muggles—she’s only interacted with pure-bloods from what i can see. the only person she’s around and actually talks to, maybe even friends with, is haerin, who’s from a very prestigious family.”

danielle understands the implications in minji’s response. danielle is muggle-born, but that doesn’t mean anything to anyone that knows her. she excels in her classes, especially potions and defense against the dark arts. could you really be so uptight to not see that she’s an equal? danielle would be mad, but she seriously can’t believe it.

“well that’s a flaw on her end.” danielle huffs, crossing her arms.

“considering her lineage, what can you do?” hanni sighs.

—

the next morning, herbology feels oddly quieter than usual as danielle takes her usual seat, surrounded by her friends. she glances at the row of ravenclaws and slytherins across the greenhouse, her stare lingering on you before quickling flicking away when minji nudges her.

“are you seriously looking at her again?” minji whispers, raising an eyebrow.

the seating for the class—if not each class—was usually grouped by house, with a few groups of mixed others. minji, hanni, and danielle usually stick together, however. the three are pretty much inseparable, and most are aware of it.

“i’m not,” danielle whispers back, though the slight heat rising to her cheeks betrays her.

danielle has never been that interested in you. she’s aware of your reputation due to a brief overhearing from some other hufflepuffs and a few gryffindors, but she never cared enough since you two were never within proximity. maybe she cared just a bit when you would prevent her house from scoring during quidditch, but it was never that deep.

ever since that encounter, however, her curiosity has definitely piqued. and since she’s a hufflepuff, there’s nothing that could suppress that curiosity.

you stand at the far end of the room, posture as perfect as possible with an unreadable, stoic expression painted on your face. even as the greenhouse buzzes with chatter, you stay just how you are, solitary. she watches you flip through your herbology textbook casually, and yet, it somehow feels intimidating.

on your end, you’re a sentence in when you feel someone's eyes on you. turning to your right, you catch the eyes that you felt, and they’re from no one other than danielle marsh. the same girl from yesterday. you’ve heard of her, but only that she’s like any other hufflepuff, that she’s the hufflepuff.

when professor seo clears her throat, everyone quickly redirects their attention and quiets down.

she goes down a list of names, some of the pairings playing out just how some would like, one of the pairs being hanni and minji. some of them were terrible, such as soobin and beomgyu who would most definitely break something.

but the pairing that really turns heads is the last.

“and lastly, miss marsh and miss l/n.”

the silence that follows is deafening. all eyes flicker between you two, most of them staying on danielle. a wave of whispered speculation ripples through the room, and even haerin, who rarely reacts to anything, looks slightly taken aback. her gaze darts between you and danielle, then lingers on you while she studies your own reaction.

danielle blinks in surprise, her heart skipping a beat. her eyes don’t steer away from you, she’s expecting some kind of protest or hesitation, but you simply gather your materials and walk over to her table with the same unbothered composure. everyone’s eyes follow you.

you place your book on the table, then sit down right next to her. danielle swallows lightly, feeling the weight of your presence. for someone so calm and quiet, your proximity feels overwhelming.

when everyone pretends to get over your pairing, professor seo goes over the lab.

the task is simple enough—repotting mandrakes—but the tension in the air makes it anything but easy. danielle steals another glance at you, trying to make sense of the sharp edges of your personality. you’re intensely focused, your hands moving with practiced precision as you handle the plant with care.

“you’re staring,” you mutter quietly, not even lifting your eyes. this is the first time danielle’s ever heard you speak, and your voice isn’t as scathing as she thought it would be.

danielle jolts, nearly dropping her towel. “don’t get ahead of yourself.”

that gets your attention. you raise a brow, finally meeting her eyes. there’s a beat of stillness between you, the air thick with something unspoken. your expression remains calm, but there’s a clicker of something beneath the surface—maybe it’s interest. maybe,

“you never apologized to minji,” danielle huffs firmly, though her cheeks betray her with a subtle blush. “i mean, you just walked away. like it didn’t matter. you could’ve at least said something.”

you tilt your head slightly, taking her in. her determination is… unexpected, and so is the way she doesn’t shrink under your scrutiny. “i see,” you reply evenly, turning back to the task.

“that’s it?” danielle presses, slight frustration bubbling over despite how composed she seems. “you don’t care at all, do you?”

you glance at her again, your expression still neutral. “should i?”

“most people would.” she counters, her gaze steady now, no longer flustered.

you study her for a moment longer, the corners of your lips twitching just barely. something about her surprises you, catches you off guard. people usually tiptoe around you, wary of your reputation. but danielle doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. she looks at you as if none of it matters.

no one’s ever looked at you like that, no one other than haerin.

“you don’t care about my reputation, do you?”

“should i?” danielle almost mocks you, her voice firm. “because i don’t.”

for a moment, silence hung between you. your lips twitch again, ever so slightly.

“then care about the mandrake instead,” you simply say, turning your attention back to the plant. “it might cry, and its cry is fatal.”

danielle blinks, momentarily thrown off by how calm you are about everything, but she doesn’t back down. she focuses on the task, her frustration slowly morphing into something else while she planted the other mandrake.

across the room, minji and hanni exchange glances, whispering to each other as they watch the interaction unfold.

“she’s actually holding her own,” hanni mutters, wide-eyed. “she’s insane.”

“i didn’t think she had it in her, especially after we scolded her like that.” hanni replies, both of them utterly captivated.

as the two of you worked in tense silence, danielle couldn’t help but wonder: why did you intrigue her so much now? it’s not like she ever noticed you like that before. maybe it’s because you’ve broken the silence and she’s gotten a glimpse of who you are.

and why, despite everything, did you seem just a little impressed by her too?

—

chatter spills throughout the hallway as class ends. you’re walking beside hyein, her presence comforting and a contrast to the buzz around you two. as you two make your way down the hall, she suddenly starts,

“how was your lab?” she asks, “with the hufflepuff.”

“ah,” you mutter, recollecting everything—from her confrontation to how well she handled the mandrakes. “danielle is… interesting. she’s good at the labs, at least.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.” you hum, “what’s got you so curious?”

“i think everyone is curious. l/n and marsh, what a combination.” a faint smirk pulls at haerins lips, you roll your eyes at her.

a few more steps down, you feel a tap at your shoulder. both you and haerin turn, surprised to find danielle standing there with her a friends a few paces behind her. you tilt your head slightly.

“you’re not as bad as everyone paints you out to be.” danielle says, her voice steady. you swear there’s a hint of mischief in her eyes.

your expression shifts for a split second—just enough for danielle to notice the faint twitch of your features—before you return to the practiced stoicism you wear so well. narrowing your eyes, you tense your jaw, measuring her.

and then, she smiles. not a mocking smile or anything meant to provoke—it’s genuine. warm, even.

a low sigh escapes your lips, your shoulders relaxing by the smallest margin. you glance at minji, who’s right behind her. she stiffens slightly when you make eye contact, clearly caught off guard by the directness of your gaze.

“i’ll watch where i’m going,” you say firmly, voice even, before turning away.

haerin gives the trio a lingering glance—danielle with her bright grin and her friends with their stunned, wide-eyed expressions—before following after you.

as you disappear down the hallway, danielle’s grin only widens. behind her, hanni mumbles, “i have to be dreaming.”

danielle doesn’t reply, her gaze fixed on where you’ve just vanished around the corner. and as you do, aware that you’re not in her sight, haerin starts to speak to you again. “what was that about?”

“i–” you begin, sighing again. “i bumped into the ravenclaw—minji. danielle kept bugging me about it, saying i should care and apologize for bumping into her friend.”

haerin’s eyes widen again, she looks at you in disbelief. “she’s got guts.”

“i know.”

—

danielle marsh really does have guts.

the next day during herbology, professor seo doesn’t assign pairings. instead, everyone has the opportunity to pick whoever they want. minji and hanni usually pair themselves up due to convenience, since they’re in the same house and all. danielle, on the other hand, would pick liz or sunoo, two hufflepuffs she also gets along with quite well.

but something churning in her nerves pushes her out of her seat before she even realizes it. she moves toward the opposite side of the room and no one really pays attention at first, not until it’s clear where her destination is.

she stops in front of your desk. her strong, lively presence makes you glance up and you meet her eyes. she’s staring at you with a neutral expression (though there’s always a very faint smile on her lips) before a small grin forms.

you tilt your head and raise both brows just barely, as if asking her what do you want? through a simple look. it conveys the question perfectly, silently.

“let’s be partners,” she says, her tone casual. the words shock the few that are eavesdropping.

you turn to haerin briefly, who’s watching with mild interest but says nothing, leaving the choice entirely to you.

danielle notices a flicker in your eyes, something she can’t pinpoint.

“okay.” you reply, standing to meet her level as if it were a challenge. she smiles wider, her confidence unwavering, and you exhale just slightly, your jaw loosening.

from there on out, there’s whispers and mutters shared throughout the room. who wouldn’t gossip considering the pairing that was willingly put together?

the task at hand was much more complex now, the duos in the class having to put up with venomous tentaculas. their writhing vines and snapping leaves demand quick reflex and unspoken coordination. you and danielle still had your tension, not knowing each other well, but there was this weird amount of trust. and the trust went a long way, the two of you handling the plants with ease.

when one of the tentacula lashes out, it’s sharp teeth glinting, danielle’s uses a spell to restrain it in an instant. you pause, meeting her eyes briefly, the faintest hint of gratitude crossing your features.

then you return to your task without a word, your hands steady as you document the plant’s behavior.

why did danielle suddenly pop into your life—six years into being at hogwarts?

and why don’t you mind in the slightest?

when the lab ends, you and danielle are the first to finish. instead of going back to her side of the room, she walks over to the slytherin side and sits down right next to you. her curiosity is radiating.

“you’re good with plants,” she says, breaking the silence.

you don’t respond immediately, your attention still on your notes.

“worked with them before?” she asks.

“rarely,” you reply, flat but honest.

“you’re a natural.”

silence stretches out again, but danielle doesn't waver.

“not much of a talker, are you—”

“why are you so insistent on pestering me?” you cut her off, glancing at her finally. your voice isn’t sharp, but it’s more resigned like you’re genuinely curious.

her grin returns, but softer this time. “because i don’t think you’re everything your reputation says about you. and i want to know why.”

you blink, caught off guard, though your expression remains steady.

she’s ridiculous.

her words settle somewhere in your chest, unfamiliar yet oddly weighty.

“what makes you think i’m nothing like what everyone says?” you murmur, looking her dead in the eye and testing her resolve again.

“well, i’m going to need evidence to figure that out.” she says without missing a beat.

you nearly smile at her audacity, but instead, you pick up your quill, turning back to your notes. danielle doesn’t leave, her presence steady beside you, as if she’s already decided she’s staying.

—

haerin meets you back at the dining hall during lunch, sitting down beside you as you look over a few pages in a textbook that professor seong decided to assign.

“you’re always studying.”

“and i’m always top of the class, haerin.” you respond teasingly, one corner of your lip turning up just a bit.

“i guess you’re right.”

haerin takes a bite out of the protein on her plate, some type of seasoned chicken, and you munch on broccoli as you observe your surroundings. near the end of your table, heeseung, one of your least favorite slytherins, is joking around with his friends. he’s probably boasting on about something uninteresting.

past your table is the hufflepuffs table, and of course your look manages to land right on danielle—who’s right across from you, basically. you immediately look away again, down at the book on the table, but haerin is observant.

“danielle.” haerin says simply.

“what?”

“what’s with you two?”

“nothing,” you’re quick to answer her, shaking your head slightly. “she just… doesn’t care about my reputation.”

“i figured. seems you don’t care whether she’s in your bubble or not either.”

“what do you mean?”

“something tells me you’re not against her presence—her.”

“you’re being ridiculous.”

“i’m not. you didn’t ignore her, you spoke to her and agreed to be her partner. why is that?”

you think about it for a second, you can’t pinpoint it. “i— i don’t know.”

“you stuttered.”

“haerin.” you groan, looking at her with defeat. “let’s save this for when we’re alone. please?”

“fine.” she complies, taking a bite of chicken.

you glance at danielle once more, then to haerin, who’s poking at something on her plate. why is she so curious anyway? haerin’s always been nosy, but not in the same way as those pretentious slytherins are. she’s just observant and always wanting to know more. her nature helps her out with that.

danielle’s the first person you’ve let into your life like this, well, not in your life, but in your ‘bubble’ as haerin says. why do you do that? maybe haerin’s playing mind games with you. could it be because you didn’t partner with her? maybe she’s—

“i’m not jealous, by the way.”

woah.

“what? what are you even saying?” you brush her off, eyeing her from the side.

“just curious, not jealous.” haerin repeats. “i don’t mind working with wonyoung at all. if anything, i think it’s great you’re branching out—even after what heeseung did for your rep.”

you give her another good look, watching her turn back to her plate and bite into her chicken almost like a feline.

she’s something else.

—

“i can’t believe you’re willingly partnering with her in not one, but two classes now.” hanni says, half baffled and half amazed as she walks beside danielle.

what she’s referring to is the fact that danielle had decided to pair up with you during potions class. everyone in the class reacted the same way—eyes wide, shushed whispers, and going stiff at the sight of danielle approaching you.

hanni nudges her, eyebrows raised. “seriously, what’s the deal? you’re one of the nicest people i know. that everyone knows. y/n is… she’s, well—her.”

danielle adjusts her bag on her shoulder, shrugging lightly. “she doesn’t seem that bad, and from my time with her she really isn’t.”

“bro, there’s a rumor that she shoved some first year when we were third years because they were in the way. i mean, we’re lucky she didn’t do that to minji. and also, she’s friends with heeseung. you know how he is.”

“those are rumors.”

“sure, but you’d have to be malicious to get a rumor like that. that’s like me pushing hyein because she decided to breathe near me.”

“that’s ridiculous.”

“danielle, her parents are batshit insane.” hanni says a little more seriously. “i’m just trying to look out for you.”

“well i appreciate that hanni, thank you.” danielle says, smiling. “but honestly, i really like working with her. i think we make a great team and… she’s not all that bad.”

hanni stops walking, staring at her as if she just grew another set of eyes. “you like working with her?”

“i do.” danielle stops too, turning to face hanni fully. “she’s focused, efficient, and knows what she’s doing. i mean, did you see how she handled the venomous tentacula last week? she barely flinched. even if she is as evil as you say, she’s a really good student.”

hanni crosses her arms, still unconvinced. “okay, but what about the part where she’s basically nonverbal? or how literally no one in the class wants to go up to her by themselves? not even slytherins.”

danielle laughs softly, the sound light and unbothered. you’re just… quiet. you’re really not that bad, and you don’t have much venom in your tone. you’re like a snake with dull fangs.

“maybe she’s just not used to people actually trying to get to know her. you should give her a chance.”

hanni looks skeptical, but there’s a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. “you’re telling me you know how to get through her scales?”

“i wouldn’t say that,” danielle says, smiling again. “but i do think there’s more to her than what everyone says. i mean, does anyone really know her?”

“no…” hanni shakes her head, muttering under her breath. “only you would willingly do this. god, i bet you’re just trying to spice up your last years here.”

“maybe,” danielle says, her grin widening as she starts walking again.

—

for the next two weeks you and danielle voluntarily partner up during herbology and potions. you do it because she’s a great partner, and she does it because she just loves to talk to you. sometimes you think that she could make conversation with a brick wall.

your marks are high, and everyone is getting used to your weird dynamic a little more. there’s less shock each time you pair up, less whispers, and less of every look that comes with.

the two of you even grow acustomed to working together, being able to predict the others next move and building your collaboration skills. it’s odd, yeah, obviously. but you’re comfortable and excelling in each task, so who are you to complain?

—

after potions class everyone gathers their materials before heading out. danielle waves to her friends, telling them she’ll meet them later. they look at her skeptically, shrugging and saying goodbye before danielle starts walking over to the exit without them,

you’re halfway out the door when you hear a voice—bright and cheery as usual—then turn to see no one other than your hufflepuff partner.

“hey,” danielle greets, suddenly appearing at your side.

you glance over, surprised, not uttering anything in response. there’s only a slight twitch in your brows, but danielle doesn’t seem to mind.

you both head out together in the hall with your books in your hands while you make your way to the dining hall. danielle starts to speak first, “that class was interesting, don’t you think? professor kim has a unique teaching style that i like very much. and potions in general, they’re cool, aren’t they? wow, the one we had to learn was difficult but cool. the ingredients were all so rare and mingled with one another so strangely.”

you don’t reply, but your silence isn’t unfriendly. you listen instead, the faint twitch of your lips and slight softness in your gaze betraying that you don’t entirely hate her rambling.

danielle doesn’t seem to care whether you respond or not, continuing on, “i think it’s my favorite class—well, maybe tied with herbology. no wait, im lying, it’s definitely care of magical creatures. i loooove animals. what about you, do you have a favorite?”

you don’t answer, and not because you’re being your usual self, but because you’re really trying to think of which class you like the most. to be fair, it might just be defense against the dark arts or transfiguration, classes where you use your wands more. but before the silence can stretch further, and before you can utter something in return, an unwelcome voice cuts in.

“didn’t know you started letting mudbloods talk to you.” heeseung sneers, stepping in front of you with two of his friends behind him. “what are you doing with one of them.”

danielle freezes, her cheerful expression dimming slightly, and something flickers in her eyes–hurt.

a nerve in you tightens. before you can stop yourself, you scoff and deliver a retort without thinking. “none of that concerns you, heeseung. maybe you should focus on balancing on your broom instead.”

he flinches, the sting of your words evident in the way his jaw clenches. he’s known to have a poker face, or something intimidating to most, but you know him like the back of your hand whether he likes it or not. for a moment, he looks like he wants to say something back, but then he thinks better of it.

you’re scary to everyone. even him. especially him. he hesitates before muttering, “whatever,” and brushing it off like it doesn’t bother him. “the team needs to gather to talk about the game tomorrow. don’t keep us waiting because of a mudblood. know your worth, l/n.”

the word ‘mudblood’ tightens your nerve further. you narrow your eyes at him, already annoyed, and he takes the hint, leaving with a muttered curse under his breath.

danielle looks at you, her brows slightly raised. and for the first time you witness her hesitate before speaking, “you’re friends with him?”

“no.” you don’t elaborate on it, instead you give her a glance that lingers for a moment too long. something about the way she looked a little hurt earlier still bothers you, though you don’t know why.

“see you later,” you say politely before turning and heading in the same direction heeseung did.

as you walk away, you feel a strange, nagging irritation—not just at heeseung, but at yourself.

—

haerin watches you stare at the ceiling for about five minutes before deciding to poke you.

“what’s going on with you?”

“nothing.” you lie.

“you’re disassociating.” haerin points out, then moves over to sit at the edge of your bed. “do you want to tell me? or do you want to bottle everything up like always.”

you sit up at her words, giving her a look that has a tinge of hurt and defeat. you look down at your mattress for a moment before looking back up at her. she tilts her head, you sigh.

“heeseung is a prick.” you say, though a little too calmly for your burning hatred for the guy.

“nothing new.”

silence passes on for a few seconds before you continue,

“he called danielle a mudblood right in front of her.” the word doesn’t slip off your tongue easily, it feels wrong just saying it. “what’s wrong with that— ugh.”

“why do you care?”

you snap your head to meet haerin’s gaze. “what? what kind of question is that?”

“one that you should answer.”

“i— i don’t know? you don’t call a muggle a mudblood in front of them. that’s so rude.”

haerin narrows her eyes at you, seemingly studying you. it’s scrutinizing. and almost as if a lightbulb has just lit up above her head, she says, “you care about her.”

“what?”

“danielle.”

“why would i? we— we’re just partners.”

“but you want to be more than that; you want to be friends with danielle.”

you don’t respond, insetad, surrendering under her eye contact. she raises her brows and you lay down in bed again, shutting your eyes.

“she’s… nice.”

“then be friends with her y/n.” haerin urges, “she wants to be friends with you.”

“it’s not that simple—”

“it is. danielle goes out of her way to talk and be with you, but you’re the one making it impossible.”

you don’t even try to argue back with haerin—she’s right after all. it’s just, you don’t know how to do all this friend stuff. haerin’s the only one you could converse with freely due to her similar nature, which is the complete opposite of danielle, who’s the sun, and in contrast, you’re like the moon.

plus, heeseung just made it ten times harder for you. everyone has this idea that you and him are good friends, and that’s only because your parents are good business partners that also happen to have dinner with one another from time to time. this drags you and heeseung into the same orbit, which feeds the illusion of a bond that doesn’t exist..

the truth is, he’s the bane of your existence.

heeseung has been in love with you since your second year, but when you rejected him and decided to show platonic interest in others—he completely ruined everything for you.

not many knew much about you back then, not until heeseung revealed your parents’ connections and influence, your lineage, wealth, and even spread rumors about you. he painted you as some carbon copy of your parents, and people believed it just because of your demeanor. plus, you were naturally smart and had the same look as your father, which added on to the ‘slytherin stereotype’ that everyone placed on you.

heeseung ruined your chance at being even a little normal. he screwed your chances at a normal social life. you lost the few friends you made, it took a long while to make a new friend, a real friend. now he’s called your new potential friend—or even someone you’re able to be casual with—a mudblood.

—

the whole day consists of danielle not being her normal self, not even during your herbology lab. danielle loves herbology.

her signature smile isn’t on while tending to the plants. instead, she’s focused and attentive like usual, but without the liveliness and infatuation. you don’t say anything to help the tension, simply staying quiet unless it’s needed. she utters something here and there, telling you to be careful due to the plants nature and its venom and whatnot.

you want to ask if she’s okay, but it’s out of character for you. what if she keeps giving you the cold shoulder even after that? what if you say something wrong, or maybe—

“hey, be careful with your finger.” danielle snaps you away from your thoughts. “it has a long reach for it’s bite.”

you nod at her. “right, thanks.”

she offers a small smile and it gives you a slight push to keep it up.

…

the thought of danielle being hurt from heeseung’s words gnaws at you even after your class with her. her energy from before lingers in your mind during lunch, and even during your last class before your game.

it’s then that you realize: you cannot play while being this bothered.

and maybe haerin was right, maybe you do care for her. there’s no harm in caring anyway, which leads you to where you are right now.

before the quidditch game, you spot danielle lingering near the stands. her expression is soft, distant, and nothing like her usual self. you can’t bear to see it. something pushes you to walk up to her when no one isn’t paying attention, catching her by surprise as you drag her over to someplace private even though your team is already gathering in the stadium.

“don’t let heeseung’s words get to you.” you say firmly, looking her in the eye. “he’s a terrible person. you shouldn’t take anything he says to heart.”

danielle blinks, startled by your directness and the fact that you have started the conversation and approached her instead. your tone has something in it—sincerity, maybe frustration—that makes her listen carefully.

“you’re a great person,” you add, though quieter than before. “way better than someone like him in every way.” your voice softens when you say it, and there’s a vulnerability in your look. “i don’t want his words affecting you at all. i… i was so overwhelmed because your smile wasn’t as bright and wide today.”

her lips part as if to respond, but no words come out. she’s processing your words, you just called her smile bright? you step back before she can figure out how to respond. your voice drops to a lower register as you finally add, “i have to leave. just… don’t let him bother you. he’s the reason we lose points anyway.”

danielle smiles and your jaw relaxes. with that, you turn and rush toward the pitch, your quidditch uniform swishing behind you. danielle watches you disappear into the crowd of players, her heart thudding unevenly in her chest.

when the game starts, her eyes stay on you. usually she’d be focused on kazuha or jake, two of the best players for hufflepuff, but she’s so intent on watching how you move. your actions are effortless and precise. you’re observant and quick to prevent chasers from scoring; danielle’s never really paid attention to your work on the field until today’s game.

the match is long, intense, and draining. you can hear the crowd roaring with every near miss or scored goal. sweat builds up on your face as you move from goal to goal, not letting a single chaser score.

danielle focuses on you, revelling in the flash of raw emotion when your teammates score against hers or when you manage to prevent hufflepuff from scoring. she wants to see your lips turning upwards up close and in person, not just from the stands.

by the time the game ends, danielle’s admiration for you has grown into something more. it’s undeniable and reeling, something she can’t quite ignore. your talent and unique demeanor inevitably tugged at her, but also the way you saw her. you took the time to spare assuring words, something you wouldn’t do for anyone else. you spoke to her like you were willing to chip your walls down a bit.

—

danielle takes a bigger leap and sits next to you next herbology class. she’s smiling wider than last time, you can tell she’s back to her usual self. it brings a feeling of relief.

haerin is sitting with you and witnessing the whole scene. danielle smiles at her too, and oddly enough the younger girl nearly smiles back. haerin tightens her jaw to fight it.

danielle turns to you, suddenly saying, “you did well last game! but ugh, hufflepuff was so close…”

you look at her and she’s giving you those puppy eyes as she waits for a response, which makes it really hard to stand your ground. you don’t know what to say, how to respond, and really how to formulate a response that’s not boring or generic.

you feel haerin nudging you with her knee under the table, then shoot her a quick glance. she puts her chin on her palm as she raises a brow subtly, but very much noticeable to you. you tighten your jaw before attempting a response.

“barely.” harsh. you wonder if anything you say won’t be laced with something negative.

much to your surprise, danielle smiles, letting out an amused giggle. “wow, is the win getting to you?”

“no.” you scoff, “hufflepuff was barely scoring. they scored twice.”

“how humble of you.”

“it’s just the facts, danielle.” you shake your head, and when you look at her again, her smile is from ear to ear.

she’s successfully created a conversation, and neither of you wants it to stop.

before you both can continue, a loud smack of a textbook hitting a desk is heard. everyone looks toward the front of the room, meeting the professor as she starts the lesson—just when things were on a roll. you bite the inside of your lip in defeat.

—

haerin walks with you after all the classes are done and you both catch up on what’s gone on through the day. the sun hits her skin as a small smile tugs at her lips.

“an underclassman bumped into me earlier,” she says, her voice light with amusement. “she apologized by giving me a pack of gummies and rushing away. she was probably running late.”

you chuckle. “peach gummies… let me guess, you didn’t waste a second before you ate them all.”

“of course not,” haerin replies with a shrug, her tone playful. “finished the whole packet during the class before this.”

you laugh quietly, shaking your head as you turn the corner together. the carefreeness fades. when you and haerin notice a scene simultaneously. much to your dismay, heeseung is at the end of the hall with his two friends you couldn’t care less about. they’re in front of a group of four girls, they all look visibly uncomfortable. one of the girls catches your eye immediately—danielle.

before haerin can even react, you’re already striding forward.

“mudbloods like you,” heeseung starts, stepping up. “need to know their place here.”

you don’t care to hear the rest of what he has to say before stepping in between him and danielle, who he’s in the middle of conversing with, and seemingly size up with him. heeseung is taller to the point where you have to tilt your head up slightly to meet his gaze, but still, he immediately seems to back down when you lower your chin. your eyes drill into his.

“y/n.” he bites down on his teeth, then smirks just barely. your brows furrow and your lip quirks to a faint expression of disgust. he chuckles, looking you up and down. “what, you’ve gone soft for a mudblood and her measly friends? what’s gotten into you l/n?”

“get out of their way.”

“what would your parents say?”

“i’ll cast a spell that tangles your limbs if you don’t get out of my face right now.” you say sharply. you lean a little closer near his ear, nearly whispering, “what would your parents say if they found out how desperate you are to ruin the l/n’s daughter's social life because you can’t handle rejection?”

heeseung watches you pull back, looking at him with nothing but resentment. his smirk slips from his face and he stiffens. he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, scoffing and tilting his head at his friends before backing off.

as he retreats, you turn back to danielle and her friends, their expressions a mix of shock and relief. haerin looks equally stunned, her brow raised as she observes you silently.

you give danielle one last look before motioning for haerin to continue on with you, but before you can even step away, danielle grabs for your wrist and tugs lightly. the warmth of her skin catches you off guard, and so does the soft urgency in her voice.

“wait,” danielle begins. “thanks.”

haerin is looking at you intensely—from what you can see in your peripheral— which urges you to respond, “heeseung is a parasite. don’t let him talk to you like that.” before gently pulling your hand away from her grasp.

danielle grins again, her expression softening. “hey, you busy?”

“what?” you ask, caught off guard.

“my friends and i are going to study together, wanna join?” her question is abrupt, out of nowhere, and you have not prepared for it. you’re left momentarily speechless. haerin, who has been watching the interaction like a hawk, clears her throat just as one of danielle’s friends—hyein—chimes in.

“wait a second,” hyein says, pointing at haerin. “you’re the girl from earlier! peach gummies!”

haerin blinks, caught off guard. “oh. that was you?”

hyein grins. “yeah. sorry for making you drop your books, and thanks for not getting mad.”

the coincidence seems to diffuse some of the lingering tension. you and haerin exchange a brief glance, silently agreeing to go along with the invitation.

“alright.” you say finally. her friends look a bit skeptical, but danielle lights up.

the group moves to the library, settling into a quieter corner but not without earning a few looks from the odd mix of individuals. books and notes are spread across the table as conversation flows between the girls. danielle ends up sittign across from you, her focus flitting between her work and sneaking glances your way—just to make sure you’re doing alright, that’s all.

meanwhile, haerin and hyein hit it off unexpectedly, their conversation sprinkled with playful remarks about their earlier encounter.

the quiet hum of the group’s murmurs and faint rustle of parchment as you all settle into conversation in between studying. haerin and hyein are seated across from each other, fully engrossed in a lighthearted debate about their favorite snacks.

“peach gummies are the best,” hyein insists, tapping her quill against the table for emphasis. minji raises her brows at the loud noise. “sorry—” hyein apologizes, “but anyway, they’re fruity and chewy—what could top that?”

haerin tilts her head, her expression as composed as ever. “they’re good, but i like the caramel sweets better. they’re something to savor during boring lectures, and they taste great with many things.”

hanni, sitting beside hyein, chimes in, “okay, but chocolate frogs? iconic, come on now.”

“overrated,” you say without looking up from your notes.

you shrug, looking up now with a smirk threatening to form. “milk chocolate is too sweet. dark chocolate has more depth.”

minji nods in agreement. “she’s not wrong… dark chocolate is way better.”

hanni narrows her eyes playfully. “this is such a slytherin take. dark, less sweet, come on.”

you raise your brows in mock offense, leaning back in your chair. “slytherin? really?”

danielle giggles softly, and the sound draws your attention for just a moment. it’s light and warm, and you find yourself nearly smiling—something small, fleeting. but danielle notices, her gaze lingering on your with a touch of awe like there’s a slight sparkle in her eye. it’s as though she’s just uncovered a secret.

the conversation shifts back to haerin and hyein, the youngest of the bunch, while the upperclassmen actually study.

“you’re so pretty, it’s unreal.” hyein says suddenly, her voice filled with sincere admiration. “teach me.”

haerin blinks, caught off guard, but her lips curve into a small, genuine smile. “that’s… sweet of you to say. no one’s ever said that to me.”

her rare smile draws a full grin from you. haerin’s reserved nature mirrors your own, and seeing her relax enough to enjoy herself feels strangely gratifying. and the fact that someone else has complimented her so sweetly when no one else dares to do so, it deepens the turn of your lips. hyein is such gryffindor material.

only danielle catches you smile, her chest tightening as she observes the once-in-a-blue moon sight. it’s warm and brief and a flicker of something unguarded—vulnerable—but to her, it’s mesmerizing. it makes you even more admirable. if she could frame the moment, she’d do it in a heartbeat.

(that must be weird, danielle thinks. there’s fireworks going off in her head, for some reason.)

“alright,” minji says, breaking the moment with a teasing grin. “but seriously, if we’re ranking snacks, the red bean dorayaki is so on my top five.”

the conversation continues, lighthearted and easy, but danielle can’t stop thinking about how lovely your smile is, even if it was fleeting. her heart flutters for some strange reason.

the chatter fades into the background as you push back your chair and stand, brushing off a stray crumb from your knitted sweater. “i’ll be back,” you mutter, directing the comment vaguely toward haerin, who briefly glances and nods.

the quiet of the library reaches a near silence as you navigate the towering shelves, the scent of parchment and ink filling the air. your fingers trail along the spines of books as you scan for the title you need. it doesn’t take long before a familiar presence is felt by your side.

danielle steps into view, her footsteps light as she comes to stand beside you. she doesn’t say anything at first, just mirrors your movements, her gaze flitting over the shelves as if she’s searching for something as well.

you glance at her, surprised. “need something?”

she shakes her head, her lips curving into a small smile. “just wanted to tag along.”

you hum, not entirely convinced, and return to scanning the shelves. when you spot the book you’re looking for, you reach out to grab it, your fingers brushing against the rough, aged spine of the book.

“you’ve got a lovely smile.” danielle says suddenly, her voice soft and clear as day.

the comment catches you off guard. you turn your head sharply to look at her, your fingers still resting on the book. you heard her perfectly, but still respond, “pardon?” and maybe it’s because you don’t believe it.

“you should smile more,” she continues, her tone casual as her fingers glide across a line of books. there’s a hint of sincerity in her eyes when she meets your gaze again, her finger landing on a text with a leather spine. “it suits you.”

heat rises to your cheeks and there’s nothing you can do to stop the faint blush spreading across your face. unfortunately for you, the light from the large windows at the end of the aisle shines on your features and gives danielle a perfect view of your flustered state. you quickly pull the book off the shelf, turning so danielle can only see the side of your face in an attempt to cover your reaction.

danielle’s smile widens, her eyes filled with amusement. “that’s cute,” she teases, tilting her head slightly. “didn’t know you could be so shy this easily, miss slytherin.”

you huff, avoiding her gaze as you tuck the book under your arm and start walking the other direction. danielle trails behind briefly, then falls into step beside you.

“we never got to continue our conversation about your game,” she says, sparking conversation.

you roll your eyes, though your lips twitch with the threat of a smile. “slytherin won. it wasn’t even close.”

danielle gasps in mock offense, clutching at her chest as if you’ve just knocked a bludger toward her. “are you always this insufferable? maybe the rumors about you are true…”

insufferable? if anyone else were to utter those same exact words, you’d spell them. but danielle earns a small chuckle. “only when hufflepuffs make it easy,” you reply smoothly, glancing at her out of the corner of your eye “your seekers and beaters were having trouble—so were your chasers.”

she narrows her eyes at you, but the playful glint in them is unmistakable. “we’re going to destroy you in the next match. kazuha has just been… out of it.”

“right,” you drawl, the corners of your mouth tugging into a toothy smile. danielle has the same exact smile when she notices yours.

as the two of you stroll through the aisles, your conversation flows naturally (but still quiet and on the reserved side), dipping between friendly jabs and earnest remarks. danielle is still talking much more, but you’ve always been on the quieter side, the dynamic fits. besides, you like listening to her—you could listen to her for hours, you think. the tension from earlier dissipates, replaced by something comforting and quiet that feels easy.

for a moment, as danielle laughs at one of your dry comments while approaching the group's table, you wonder how she manages to make even the smallest moments feel magical.

…

you and haerin nod your heads at the others before parting from the group and walking toward the slytherin commons. you notice a small smile from haerin as you two walk back, but you don’t mention it. it seems that haerin’s found a friend, someone other than you. someone other than superficial, stuck-up pure bloods in your house.

meanwhile, danielle and her group walk with hyein to drop her off at her common room first.

“y/n isn’t that bad, actually.” hyein says throughout the conversation. “and her friend is cool, i like her. i think we can be great friends.”

minji nods. “maybe danielle was right. she’s… really normal. nothing like the rumors…”

“yeah, even i felt kind of at ease. she just kept to herself most of the time. it seemed like she was just there to… i don’t know, be with us. she didn’t mind it.”

danielle beams, “i told you! she has some of those slytherin stereotypes, but she’s really sweet.”

“maybe you’re not insane.” hanni snickers, grinning at her best friend. “i’m down to hangout with her and the fifth year she’s friends with.”

the group continues on, dropping off hyein before they walk danielle last since hanni and minji are in the same house. when danielle is inside, she returns to her bed and lays flat for a bit. she reminisces, enjoying the alone time she had with you and your stance in a group setting. you’re quiet, and observant. that makes you all the more interesting—especially when you decide to speak.

danielle’s spirits are lifted at the prospect of having someone like you in her life.

—

as the year continues, both you and danielle grow closer.

she learns to slither under your skin, getting you to open up more than before. it starts with the little things, like you admitting that you could care less about certain topics in herbology, visibly showing your annoyance whenever you see heeseung, and even telling danielle brief anecdotes about him during your younger years together. she learns your favorite color, and how it’s actually the color yellow, which might be the reason you’re so tolerant of her. she learns that you’re a sucker when it comes to your pet cat, and that the rumors of you having a venomous snake are completely wrong. she learns a lot about you, but nothing is that deep or personal.

(“he’s shy. he doesn’t like to leave my bed, but he always gets his exercise walking around the commons when everyone is away.” you explain.

you pull up a small picture you keep with you at all times, a small square photo of your black cat. the quality of it is alright, but it’s enough for danielle to notice how green your cat’s eyes are.

“that’s a slytherin cat.” danielle says firmly, clicking her tongue. “everything about him screams it.”

you chuckle lightly, rolling your eyes. “and what if he’s a hufflepuff?”

“then i’d take wonderful care of him.”

“i don’t think haerin would like that… she gets jealous.”)

you learn more about danielle too, like how she has an older muggle sister back home with a passion for music, her grandparent’s dogs that she misses, her parents whom she cherishes. everything about her upbringing screams loving, which is probably why she’s full of love herself. she tends to drop stories during herbology about her scary encounters with the plants you deal with, and stories about how it took her a while to get over her fear of being a witch.

“odd things would happen to me while i was in primary school,” danielle says one morning as you walk to class. “books would float, i could see fairytale-like animals—weird stuff. then i got a letter from some school in scotland—hogwarts—and now i’m a witch.”

you nod, and she continues. that’s how it usually goes.

“i was so scared. for a moment i thought i lost my whole life because i was able to use magic. i mean, i didn’t know a single person who was a witch or wizard. i think i sobbed my eyes out the night before getting on the plane here. they were so puffy the morning after.”

you frown, looking at her with concern. “really?” you ask.

“yeah.” danielle admits. “i decided that there wasn’t anything i could do, i mean, i accepted it—i willingly went to hogwarts after all, even if it was new and terrifying. it felt so scary but so… right? eventually i really wanted to be a witch, but i also had so much fear in my bones. but hey, i put on a smile and made some good friends here. you can’t get over your fears without friends, no?”

“i—” you never really had that many friends until danielle. even before her, it was just haerin. maybe she’s right. “i guess so.”

the two of you walk into potions together, settling into your usual seats by the window that always shines perfectly on danielle. the slight frizz of her wavy hair stands out in the afternoon sun, and her brown eyes light up the room. something you’ve realized after being friends with danielle is that she’s a wonderful sight.

“hey, danielle?”

“yeah?”

“how far is your home? i don’t think i’ve ever asked.”

“you couldn’t tell by my accent?” she teases. “i’m from australia. not too far from sydney actually, a city called newcastle.”

you freeze. “what?”

“newcastle, it’s a bit north—from sydney i mean.”

danielle tilts her head as she notices the change in demeanor. it looks like you’ve seen a ghost, which, isn’t anything special in hogwarts. scratch that, it looks like you’ve just seen a dementor. she turns around to see absolutely nothing, then turns back to you, who seems a bit out of it.

“hey, you alright?” danielle questions, placing her hand on yours and leaning forward slightly.

the warmth radiating off her hand snaps you out of it immediately. you nod, then stare at your hands a bit too long. “y-yeah, i just, i just remembered something.” you choke out. “sorry.”

“aw, it’s nothing. i thought you saw a ghost, or something scary like a dementor.”

you smile softly, shaking your head and turning to your parchment. “right.”

other than being closer to danielle, you’ve also built a bond with her three friends. you and minji have a very friendly dynamic, with you two treating each other as academic equals—even playful rivals—due to your high markings. hanni, on the other hand, got comfortable with you as soon as she realized there was nothing to be scared about. hanni is known for being a tease, to you and minji especially. and hyein. hyein certainly is something else. she’s this ball of energy that even danielle can’t keep up with sometimes. she’s bright, cheerful, and somehow exactly what haerin needed to start opening up—being her true self. haerin talks more now, even laughs, and it’s mostly because of hyein and the rest.

the change is unexpected and scary, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. sure, others are critical and still surprised even when winter break nears, but you don’t mind. they’re still scared of you anyway, mainly because heeseung is trying to tear you down. as long as you have you friends.

for the first time in your six years at hogwarts, you truly feel at home. you feel alright—to an extent.

—

the end of the term is in less than two weeks, which means everyone will be home for the winter.

your ‘home’ isn’t really all that. there’s no family that awaits, only maids and butlers that greet you with the most respect possible. they’re lovely, of course, but going back to a monotonous life after a life-changing semester brings your spirits down.

it’s not hard to hide how you feel, but when it’s danielle, it’s much more difficult. she can notice the slightest change in your mood just by the twitch of a lip or the octave of your sigh. she’s attentive, especially when it comes to you.

which is why she’s off to find you not too long after you leave early from a study session, a flicker of hesitance in your features when you were packing your things.

danielle can’t reach you when you’re nowhere to be found, and she can’t ask anyone since they avoid you like you’ll snap any second. she checks near the entrance to the slytherin commons, then some of the halls, and even the classes you two have together. danielle ends up with no sight of you.

not even a second later, a location pops up in her mind,

you always mentioned how much you liked astronomy, even if it wasn’t your favorite. you’d mention how often you frequented the astronomy towers to clear your mind and have some peace when you were troubled, and how it was your favorite spot on campus.

and when she arrives, it’s not much of a shock that you’re sat down staring out at the sky.

she walks over and sits next to you, and it seems that you don’t mind from the way you keep staring out at the clouds painted by the sunset.

“i was looking for you.” danielle says softly, looking out in the same direction. “why’d you leave so early? i missed you. i wanted you there, i always do.”

the words hit your heart weirdly, like daggers being pushed into it but it doesn’t hurt in the way it should. it’s… nice?

you don’t respond for a moment, swallowing shallowly before ending the silence. “i just needed to think.”

“about?”

“too much.” you mumble. there’s too many things racing in your mind: going home, the possibility that your parents will be there, being away from danielle—that one is the worst—and newcastle. newcastle has been lingering in your mind for a while and it’s because of loosened ties. “is your hometown nice?’ you ask out of the blue, catching danielle off guard. “what’s it like?”

“why do you ask?”

“just curious.”

danielle scoots closer so your shoulders brush. she continues to look out as she explains, “well, it’s beautiful. the people are lovely, and the coast is jaw-dropping. i especially love the nature. and also being with my family. i can’t wait to go back.”

a smile graces your lips, it’s bittersweet, sad, and all too much. “that sounds nice.”

“yeah. it is.”

a stretch of quiet takes place, one that danielle doesn’t interrupt. the moment seems too intense, and she can sense that you need it.

“i’ve always wanted to go.” you say quietly.

“you should.”

…

“danielle.” you start again.

“hm?”

“when you told me you were from newcastle, i felt a wound open.” you begin, turning to face her now. “someone i—someone i know lives there.”

“oh,” danielle meets your eyes—-there’s regret and longing. “is that so?”

“yeah.” danielle reaches over for your hand, holding your fingers in her small hands as if she knows whats going on in your mind. you take a deep breath before continuing, “someone i need to apologize to.”

“what?”

“some of the rumors are true, you know. i had a habit of pushing others away, usually not in the nicest ways.” you purse your lips. “i was… i was cruel. until you came into my life i just… i don’t know. i was worse than i am now.”

“y/n…” danielle holds your hand a little tighter, squeezing it reassuringly. “it’s fine.”

“i used to have a thing against muggles. there wasn’t a valid reason for it, i just did.” you admit, your voice so fragile with regret that even the slightest sound could break it. “i’m sorry. it eats up at me, what i used to think and even say sometimes. ever since i met you it’s just… been a guilt weighing me down.”

“that’s not the case now though.” danielle assures. “it’s okay. i know there’s a reputation for muggles that isn’t the best, but as long as you’ve seen through that… it’s okay.”

“are you sure? could i really be changing?” you suddenly ask, vulnerability taking over. “i’ve spiraled so much these days. i keep thinking about if i’ve changed enough, if i deserve to be friends with the rest and most importantly you.”

“y/n, what are you even saying?”

“i don’t know.” you sigh, putting your face in one hand. “sometimes i wonder if i should be able to even be friends with you guys—minji, hanni, hyein, haerin—mostly you. i’m just… i’ve made a lot of mistakes, danielle.”

“and you’ll make a lot of memories to make up for those mistakes in the future. you can’t be stuck on your past.” danielle says, taking your hand off your face and making you look directly at her. “it’s okay, y/n.”

you look at her in a new light now. the words come out of her mouth softly, comfortingly. it seems that everything will be okay because of the way she speaks. and the look in her eyes, the sudden movement of her hand cupping one of your cheeks—it makes you see her differently.

before your sixth year with her, your heart was parched. dry. dull. it’s like a wave of something warm and soothing has washed over it, giving it a reason to pump and feel.

“thank you.” you practically breathe out after staring at her in awe. you shake your head now, retracting from her out of instinct. “i’m sorry, i don’t know what got into me.”

“it’s okay to feel.”

“i know, i just—” you cut yourself off, deciding not to finish your thought and instead responding, “i can’t believe you walked all the way up here.”

the astronomy tower isn’t hard to reach. the top of the tower, where all the pretty sights and rougher winds blow are. it’s late now, the sun nearly hidden by the horizon, the winds ruffling your hair a bit more noticeably—and danielle is right there with you. did she really walk up all this way just to see you?

she shrugs. “it’s not too bad.”

you chuckle to lighten the mood. “i’m not letting you walk back down—not at this hour.”

“well i figured i’d walk down with you.”

“so you came here without knowing for sure that i’d be here? danielle…” you sigh, standing up and walking over to your broom standing up against the stone. “let me take you down.”

“on the broom?”

“would you rather we jump off…?” you question with a slight teasing tone.

danielle rolls her eyes. “you’ve got jokes.”

“i’m still learning.” you say before motioning her over. your broom hovers and you get on, using the tilt of your head as a signal for her to get on. she sits behind you, her hands immediately snaking over your waist and linking with one another to tighten her hold. you feel your stomach doing all sorts of twists and tricks, so you laugh to cool your nerves. “scared?”

“no,” danielle is only lying a little.

“i’m here. just hold on tight.” you look back at her, giving her a reassuring look. she smiles, putting her head on your back and squeezing tighter.

“i trust you.” she mutters into your robe.

you nod, taking off slowly, but picking up the pace shortly after. instead of darting straight down, you take a more leisurely route over the lake, which urges danielle to pull away just a bit to get a glance of the moonlit river. she smiles as you hover over the water, your reflections rippled on the surface. how wonderful, danielle thinks.

she rests her head against you again with much more comfort and less stress now. she uses you as a sort of pillar, a headrest as she holds onto you. you smile when you feel her arms tighten, not wanting the moment to end.

it doesn’t take long before you reach a certain window near the hufflepuff commons, helping danielle off and into the building. she dusts her robe as she glances back out, giving you a bright smile.

before she closes the window, she peeks her head out. “i enjoyed that, thanks.”

“yeah, no problem.” you say, adjusting your seating on the broom.

danielle holds onto the window frame before she adds, “you can always talk to me, y/n. i care about you more than you know.”

your lips purse into a smile, your jaw relaxes, and you nod. “yeah, thank you. i hope you know that i feel the same.”

and with that danielle grins widely, before closing the window, leaving you outside and in place for a good minute to process everything. you think about how easy it is to be vulnerable around her, how easy it is to be you, and how content you’ve been feeling ever since she’s been in your life. it’s then that you realize what you feel for her is too strong to keep in the back of your mind. and it’s just as scary as it is strong and overwhelming.

—

when finals come around, you’re spending a lot more time away from danielle with your head in the books. this isn’t only because of finals, it’s also because you’re going to have to go home soon. “home.”

the cherry on top is that heeseung is coming with since your parents are going to have dinner together, catching up and discussing the term—but mainly business. you don’t need any spell or scroll to predict your future, you already know there’s only sorrow ahead. so for now, you’ll focus on passing your classes, mainly so you can have some time with danielle.

throughout this time, you and danielle share a lot more moments alone. walking in the empty halls after class, meeting before quidditch matches, and even when you’re not physically next to each other, there are those shared, knowing moments of eye contact from across the dining hall.

the worst moments, though, are during quidditch matches. you figure she’s doing it on purpose, to distract you with her big, brown, and sparkly eyes so hufflepuff can score. second to this might have to be during class presentations; sometimes you’re up in front of the class and folding just because danielle’s eyes meet yours.

but now that’s come to and end, since finals are all over and everyone is stress free for the break. everyone but you.

danielle makes you forget that you have to go home with heeseung tomorrow. she’s dragging you by the hand, her skin soft and warm as always, and leading you somewhere ‘special,’ as she says.

“it’s way better at night,” she says matter-of-factly. you chuckle, following her down a little trail that’s on a hill right outside the woods.

she sits down right on a big boulder, scooting over and patting down space for you before looking right up at the sky. the stars are scattered over the dark landscape, shining and dimming right before your eyes. you glance back at danielle for a moment, noticing how she shines just a little brighter than anything up there.

“at my house there’s a balcony that gives a really great view of the stars, the city, and everything that’s pretty.” you break the silence. “i live in oxford, so there’s always something going on in the town. lights still shine in the streets, sometimes i can hear the faint tune of street music from my house that’s up on the hill.”

“that’s lovely y/n.”

“yeah, but,” you look down at the gravel under your feet. “that’s the only good thing about home.”

danielle frowns, grabbing your hand with hers. “hey, maybe one day you can come over to my hometown. maybe this summer?”

you smile at the idea, being with danielle someplace far from home. anywhere with her would be nice. “i’d like that.”

she sighs happily, leaning on your shoulder and tensing up a bit. “it’s cold.” she giggles, “still haven’t gotten used to the winters here. it’s never colder than ten degrees back home, and that’s in the winter. when i go back it’ll probably be twenty degrees minimum.”

a small frown takes over, you slip off your slytherin scarf and adjust it to cover danielle a bit more. it fits her quite well. “keep this on for now. i’m, um, used to this weather since i live in england.”

“did you always live there?”

you shake your head. “no. i’ve moved around a lot because of my parent’s work, but it got tiring. they purchased a place for me.”

“all for you?”

“yeah. i…” you don’t know how to word it. “i guess they just care about me when i’m doing something that fits their image. oxford is very academically rich so… they thought i’d flourish there, kinda.”

“y/n…” danielle frowns, moving her head away so she can look at you with a sort of pity. you’re not really fond of the look until she holds your face in her hands and it’s far too intimate to the point where your heart is beating against your ribs. “parents shouldn’t be like that.”

you don’t respond, instead tearing up just a bit. danielle sees your waterlined eyes, then pulls herself closer to embrace you in a hug. you freeze in the moment, but immediately after you completely melt against her. your hands press into her curly hair a bit, your nose in the crook of her neck as you sigh,

“i don’t want to be away from you, danielle.”

“then come with me.”

“i can’t.” you say defeatedly, feeling your heart sink.

—

the next day, danielle gives you a big hug in front of heeseung before you two depart. heeseung grills you about your friendship with a “mudblood” the whole way back to your home. it’s not the longest journey back on the train, but every second spent with him around makes you want to cast a menacing spell.

and when you arrive back at your place with heeseung trailing behind, you speedwalk toward the entrance and head to your room as quick as you can, eager to stay away from him. you get at least two minutes of peace before it’s interupted again, hearing someone shout your name from the first floor.

you walk down the steps hesitantly, now clad in more formal attire. you’re met with your parents, who don’t even smile at you, and heeseung’s as well. you nod at them politely, moving over to stand beside your parents before everyone meets at the dining table.

not a word is uttered from you the whole dinner. heeseung sits across from you, which makes the expensive dish on the table unappetizing. your parents discuss some business, something about funding for the ministry of magic and hogwarts—you could really care less.

you’re snapped out of your thoughts when your name is suddenly called, shooting your head up at the person who said it: your father.

“i would assume your term has been going remarkably well, yes?”

you nod.

“top of the class?”

you nod again.

“you should ask her about her social life, sir.” heeseung butts in, making your head turn sharply at him. you meet his eyes, which are piercing right through you. don’t, you try to say silently. heeseung simply smirks, taking another bite of his steak. “she’s made new friends.”

“is that so?” your father says with a hint of venom. “that shouldn’t be a problem, unless they’re distractions.”

“they’re not.” you assure firmly, biting the inside of your cheek.

“a muggle.” heeseung practically spits. “she’s made a muggle ‘friend.’ a hufflepuff, might i add.”

everyone at the table has their attention on you now, confusion and near disgust in their features.

“what are you doing talking to such individuals?” your mother scoffs. “a hufflepuff? why are you wasting your time talking to those at the bottom of the chain?”

“they’re not.” you reply with a surge of confidence. “they’re driven and excel in their classes. this ‘hufflepuff’ is more of a wizard than half the stuck-up slytherins.”

“pardon?” your dad says, seemingly seething. “how dare you speak on your own house like that?”

“are you mad at me for telling the truth? how about you ask heeseung about how he’s been doing in his classes—or how he never fails to give up points in quidditch.” you say angrily, standing up now. “don’t act like you care about me in the slightest when i’m just a mere business strategy, something to keep the family name going.” you set your utensils down, pushing your chair in before walking off. “i’m leaving. thank you for the dinner.”

—

you get into a heated argument with your parents after, something about how you’re too pure for muggle filth. it disgusts you, makes you want to throw up. they tell you that you need to focus on your studies and stop fooling around, and you respond with silence.

an even more severe argument with heeseung starts not so long after. your wand had been at his throat, your words deathly, threatening. he’s never seen you so serious, and you’ve never seen him so scared. it was quite a start to your so called ‘break.’

the rest of the winter was spent alone. your parents left with a disappointing energy lingering around them, one that made the maids and butlers shiver. you didn’t mind, though, because what could they do to you? not much, for sure.

you spend time painting, a little hobby you picked up as a kid when studying became boring and repetitive. it was your comfort zone, something you could do for hours on end and the best part about it was that you were quite excellent with the brush. and through everything you were doing to pass time, danielle was on your mind. you missed her, you missed her more than anything and it physically pained you.

—

one night, just past the middle of the break, an owl shows up at the balcony you had told danielle about. you’re stargazing when the brown feathered bird shows up holding an envelope, dropping it on the ledge before departing with a chirp.

you quirk your brow, reaching for the envelope and opening it curiously. there’s a colorful piece of paper inside with a variety of stickers adorning it. you smile softly—maybe the first smile the whole winter. well, other than when you would catch yourself grinning while thinking about your memories shared with your friends, with danielle.

the letter reads,

hi y/n! i hope you’re doing well :)

i miss you a lot! so much. i’m back home spending time with my family, some old friends, and hanging out near the coast or the little trails. i often find myself thinking about you, if not all the time. i wish you were here right beside me. but we’ll see each other again soon!

i hope you’re doing well, tell me how oxford is! i heard it’s quite scholarly over there, haha. i told my father that you live there and he looked shocked! he seemed in awe. i really hope you’re alright, i wish i were with you.

the main reason i sent this was because i couldn’t stop thinking about you. it feels off being without you. let me know how you’re doing, i hope this reaches you well. newcastle is pretty far from oxford, but this owl (according to a wizard i met at the post office—the magical one, of course) is quite the traveler. apparently that little guy can travel across the world in just a day! how wonderful is that?

anyway, after you’re done reading this, i hope you’ll send a response back. i miss talking to you, i miss you (as if i haven’t said it enough). let me know how your break is.

yours truly,

danielle marsh <3

p.s. there’s some pictures i took on the disposable! and i snuck a little timtam in there–an australian little treat. it’s dark chocolate, just how you like it miss slytherin ;)

a wide grin spreads across your lips as you read through, and then you read it again, and again, and again… lingering on each moment she says “i miss you.” and that’s truly because you miss her too, maybe more than she misses you.

you pull out the other items in the envelope, three pictures that all have little notes on the back. the first image is the beach, it’s beautiful and bright. it reads “my favorite place :)” on the back.

the second image is of a town. there’s buildings and shops in sight that glow in the sun, and everything about it seems warm and comforting. on the back, it says “a lovely place for a stroll and some yummy ice cream, crepes, acai bowls—really anything sweet and delicious! they have a place that sells some wizarding food, but it’s only accessible to people like us. i went in briefly, they have chocolate frogs!”

and finally, the third image is just a picture of danielle with some slim fit jeans on, a slim fit t-shirt, and a denim hat posing with a peace sign. she’s smiling brightly, making you do the same, even chuckling. the background displays some sort of body of water, maybe a lake, and the sun is setting in the background. you can’t help but stare a little longer at her, thumb brushing over her face lightly.

“when i took this, i imagined you right there next to me. that’s why my smile is so bright.”

the maid catches you smiling at the letter, and as if it were contagious, she finds it spreading to her too.

—

your next winter break activity is in session. you take the maids and butlers by surprise by throwing on a coat and your comfiest dress pants as you tell them, “i’ll be back by the evening,” and leaving with a wave, a smile, and an odd spark in your eyes.

the first stop is your favorite library. you walk around, memories flooding in as you scan the shelves. you often frequented the romance section, always getting lost in various novels and pretending to not be enamored by the tales. you sneak a picture of the main area where the university students always studied. it’s large, beautiful, and meticulously arranged to captivate anyone at first glance.

the next stop is a little park area that you would sketch at. it’s sunny, which is rare, so you take the chance to capture the once-in-a-blue-moon moment. the sun is a contrast to the naked trees, the lingering snow from days before, and everything that could paint the scenery mellow. it’s pretty, it’s wonderful, it’s like danielle.

you walk around and around trying to find another place, but there are too many options. you’re also a bit tired from walking all around the city, making your way through the city and its shops until the sun starts to descend slowly.

when you get back home, the maids and butlers greet you respectfully, asking questions like “do you need help with your coat?” and “how was your day, miss?” which you respond to casually. after your term at hogwarts, all this respect threw you off, especially since you’re not that prestigious in your eyes. you’re just a seventeen-year-old girl, really.

as the sun disappears, you stand at your favorite balcony looking over the city. it’s quiet, you like that. the chill of the winter tints your cheeks, nose, and ears pink as well. there’s tranquility in moments like these.

the idea hits you while the stars shine above. you reach for your digital camera, then call for a maid. she’s there to assist as fast as she can, wondering what she can do to help. you catch her completely off guard when you ask for a picture, simple as that.

“is that it miss?”

“you can call me by my first name. and yes, that’s all.” you assure, nodding at her before walking back to the balcony. “i just need it to catch the view well, and myself i suppose.”

next thing you know you’re standing by the edge, leaning against the sturdy guard. you position yourself, but hesitate a bit.

“is this alright? i just need my waist and up—i think. do you have suggestions?”

the maid halts for a moment, then motions with her hand. “miss—ah. i mean, y/n. scoot this way a bit?” she suggests, so you scoot to the left a bit. “there. the view is much more visible like that. are you ready?”

“yes.” you answer. you offer a big, toothy smile and look at the camera. it flashes, you blink, and then you walk over. “did it turn out alright?” you question, “do i look nice?”

“y/n, you look wonderful.” she gazes at the picture in admiration, grinning to herself upon seeing your rare smile. “you have a wonderful smile.”

“is it… pretty?” there’s a lack of confidence in your question to which the maid responds with a nod.

“very beautiful, dear.”

a soft sigh leaves your lips, a sigh of relief. “that’s great.”

—

a few days later danielle is sitting on the rocking chair on her porch. there’s a vhs tape connected to her headphones, something old and nostalgic from her dad’s drawer. she’s looking out, not at anything in particular, and thinking of you.

and as if the universe read her mind, an owl stops by. it sits on her mailbox, chirping once and catching her attention immediately. she walks towards it, then grabs the envelope sitting in its beak. it hums when danielle pets it fondly, praising it before it flies away.

(danielle still doesn’t know how it’s possible for these owls to travel so far… maybe it’s the magic?)

she sits back down where she was before, thankful for the light above her porch illuminating everything. she opens the envelope, taking out a piece of parchment and three printed photos. the corner of her lips tug upwards almost immediately.

danielle opens the letter first, her smile widening when she sees the proper, perfect handwriting.

dear danielle,

i hope this letter finds you well.

i hope you’re alright. i received your letters not too long ago, and they really made my night. i really appreciate that you took the time to create and send that to me. i love it.

these days i find myself thinking of you all the time. i can’t help but miss you every second, as crazy as it sounds. we’ve only been friends for a bit, but i hope you know that you’re one of the few people i cherish the most. i appreciate you more than letters can express.

my life isn’t too crazy. i’ve been studying, reading, and painting—a hobby of mine that i haven’t shared with you yet, i think. anyway, i just wanted to say i miss you. i already said it, but i really do. thinking of you is getting me through this break.

i hope you like the pictures i sent. oxford isn’t as exciting as australia, at least in my opinion. but there are places that i adore, and so i wanted to share them with you too. enjoy.

yours,

y/n l/n

then danielle flips through the pictures, all while grinning like an idiot with a strangely warm flutter in her chest. she looks at the first one, a picture of a library and a note on the back that reads: my safe place. it’s huge here, and the books are lovely. i think you’d get lost here, haha.

the second picture is of some park, the sun shining beautifully in the background. on the back it says, “oxford isn’t usually sunny. i’m lucky i was able to capture this sight. the sun reminds me of you.”

and the third picture makes her eyes slightly waterline. she’s looks at you posed in your balcony with a beautiful backdrop of stars, the city in the background lit up with small dots of light from lamposts and buildings. and you. wow, you.

danielle stares for a good moment. your cheeks and nose are a bit red, most likely from the cold. your smile cools her down when the summer breeze blows. she’s never been so captivated before, not by someone's smile, words, or anything like that.

you’re something special, danielle says silently to herself.

—

you’ve never been so excited to go back to school in your life.

platform 9 ¾ is filled with parents and their kids bidding farewell before the next semester starts. you’d be by danielle’s side in a heartbeat, but the exchange students from abroad have to take a different type of transportation.

haerin, however, manages to find your seating area despite not having contact with you the whole winter. she sits right in front of you in the booth, giving you a small smile. you mirror her.

both of you catch up briefly, listening to her talk about her trip to korea and the states. you tell her that you didn’t do much, just painted and walked around.

(leaving out the part about danielle and your letters. something in your chest tells you she’d tease you about it, or make some comment that makes you rethink a lot of things.)

the trip to hogwarts isn’t long, but it seems like forever in this specific moment.

when you reach the campus, you get off quickly with haerin. you two walk beside each other, your demeanor is less intimidating and more eager. there’s a relaxation in your features that wasn’t there before, making you seem a little less like your rumors. haerin laughs when you scan the area intensely.

you don’t see danielle as everyone piles in, you don’t see her in the dining hall—somehow—but you do run into her once all the ‘welcome-back’ ceremonies are finished. the two of you catch each other in sight simultaneously, visibly lighting up before rushing over to hug one another.

danielle crashes into you, her arms wrapping around tightly. “oh my god! you’re alive! i missed you so much.”

“i missed you too, danielle.” you mutter into her hair. she smells like violets, daisies, vanilla, and everything nice.

—

the rest of the year is fine. it’s great. better than great.

it’s not just because heeseung is out of your life, barely making eye contact with you or even interacting unless it’s against his will. but the fact of the matter is: you and danielle are glued to the hip, seriously. you’re always with one another, especially during your classes and really anytime that’s not spent away. she rambles, you listen. you stare, she still rambles. it’s a routine, it could be a lifestyle for you, that’s for sure.

throughout your year, there’s something that wasn’t there before. or maybe it was, but just not palpable like now.

haerin is the first to notice. she catches your stares while the teacher is talking, how your fingers somehow end up twirling a piece of her hair without thinking, how soft your gaze gets with danielle. she notices everything.

it’s not just you either. danielle stares at you like you’re the world, looks at you like you’re more precious than anything in the universe. she’s touchy too, in general but especially with you. she also looks at your lips from time to time, compliments you differently than the others, and there’s even moments that are really questionable. there’s something there, something more than friendship in the air.

haerin fully realizes it when the class is outside to meet a hippogriff. on the way there, haerin catches danielle plucking a flower from the ground and putting it in the pocket of your robe. you do the same, but instead of placing the flower in her robe, you brush her hair behind her ear and place it right there.

a lightbulb shines above haerin’s head: you two are in love.

—

“y/n,” haerin asks one afternoon as you walk down the corridor. “how do you feel about danielle?”

“oh, she’s lovely.” you mutter softly. “why?”

“how do you feel about her.”

“haerin, what?” you raise a brow, looking at her skeptically.

“what do you feel while you’re around her?”

you find yourself blushing and looking down at the ground. “um. well, happy? i don’t get why this is—”

“what else? i know there’s more.”

“haerin—” you start, but sigh. “she’s nice. i like being around her. i don’t know what you’re getting from this.”

haerin stops in her tracks, making you turn around when you’re two steps ahead. she’s giving you this scrutinizing gaze, looking through your skin, past your bones, into your heart.

“you like danielle.” she states. “you love her.”

you’re quick to defend yourself. “what kind of assumption is that?” you scoff, shaking your head. “you’ve gone mad… haerin. let’s get back to the—”

with a swift movement, haerin uses her wand to cast a spell on you. it makes you shift over to the wall, your back pressing against it harshly with added pressure. “don’t give me that.”

“what’s gotten—”

“you deserve to revel in these feelings.” haerin says, stepping closer. “i’m sick and tired of you ignoring things like this. first it’s being friends, then it’s opening up, and now? y/n, you two are such stark contrasts that it only makes it all the reason for completing each other.”

you shiver, and so does your breath. haerin’s noticeably shorter than you, but it feels like she’s towering over you with her stern tone and serious look. you gulp. she’s not wrong, when has she ever been? it’s sudden, out of nowhere, and really shaking you up. it takes a while for you to process.

“so what if i’m in love with her?” you nearly whisper. “my blood is tainted, poisoned, and undeserving. being friends with danielle is enough. i don’t need to be pursuing further, i’ll taint her too. she’s pure, sweet, and everything i’m not. i can’t do that to her haerin. it doesn’t matter what i feel.”

“well it doesn’t matter what you think of the matter.” haerin pushes her wand right on your sternum, making you stiff in place. “stuff like this isn’t avoidable. it’s inevitable.”

you bite down and tense your jaw before breaking eye contact with haerin, feeling defeated.

—

the crowd is roaring while gryffindor and slytherin dual on the field. it’s a highly anticipated match since the rivalry is tense, so each and every house is invested. danielle seems to be distracted from the fact that one of the slytherin’s had just scored, because she’s watching you display that small, signature smile that occurs every time slytherin gains a point.

minji and hanni are next to her, somehow managing to sit with a different house with the help of hyein. danielle’s attention is on something completely different, which is noticeable when she doesn’t cheer when everyone else does or looks on edge when things get heated. her friends catch on quickly, exchanging a knowing look as they lean forward, their expressions mixed with curiosity and mischief.

“are we watching the same game?” minji asks right into danielle’s ear. “because it seems like something—someone else has gotten your attention.”

hanni laughs, nudging danielle by the shoulder. “you’ve had your eyes on slytherin’s keeper the whole game.”

“i— no!” danielle responds defensively. “i’m not. the game is so… entertaining.” she adds, trying to lie her way out.

“who scored last?” minji asks, to which danielle responds with a clueless look. she opens her mouth to speak, but nothing slips from her lips. she frowns.

“right…” hanni teases. “you’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

“i’m not in love with her!” danielle responds, shaking her head. she rolls her eyes before insisting, “let’s just watch the games. you guys are being fools.”

“uh huh.” minji snickers.

throughout the game, danielle really tries to focus on whatever is going on. heeseung is floating around or whatever, nearly scoring and then not. one of the gryffindor’s, jungwon, scores and you look all angry when he does so. it’s mildly attractive to danielle, and it shouldn’t be. but the way you bite your lip out of frustration and fly back to your position—yeah, it’s got her attention back on you for the rest of the game again.

…

after the game, danielle meets you down near the field. she’s with minji, hanni, and hyein, who’s found haerin along the way.

you emerge from the exit, your uniform slightly battered, your hair ruffled, and skin shined with a thin layer of sweat. there’s something about it that makes danielle’s knees slightly weaker. you make eye contact with her then, the exhaustion in your features slipping away and a more relaxed, but still stoic, expression on your face. your lips nearly curl into a smile.

“great game!” danielle beams, walking over to you.

“i could’ve done better.” you sigh, disappointed by the loss. gryffindor won by a mere ten points, a score that you nearly prevented. “it was alright at best.”

“don’t be so harsh on yourself. you’ll get it next time.”

“yeah, for sure. we’re going against hufflepuff. there’s no way we’ll win.”

“hey!” she playfully punches your shoulder, making you laugh quietly. “you only won by twenty points last time.”

“and we’ve always won against you guys.” you say brazenly.

“whatever.”

“right. well, i’ll see you later. i’m gross at the moment.” you mumble, running a hand through your hair and the action itself makes danielle blush. “bye.”

“bye.” danielle bids farewell with a smile. she turns back to see her friends—including haerin—giving her a knowing look. there’s a heat in her cheeks that’s visible, earning a pair of raised brows from minji and hanni.

she’s not beating any allegations.

—

by the time your sixth year ends, the feelings you two harbor are almost unbearable. you can’t stop thinking of her, glancing at her lips, absentmindedly playing with her hair—and too much more. it’s clear as day to your friends that there’s something more, but you can’t do that to her.

danielle’s been fond of tracing patterns into your skin during lectures—under the table of course, where not a single person will notice. you get used to the feeling of her fingers on you since she’s so touchy. you also learn that the dip of where your neck starts is danielle’s favorite place to lean on. its really overwhelming, this ‘friendship’ that’s been blossoming into something dangerous.

and what’s more dangerous is that danielle doesn’t forget her suggestion from before winter break. she says to you one day during a group trip to hogsmeade, while you’re trailing together on your own away from the group, “come to australia with me.”

it takes a moment for you to respond, but you eventually do so. “i thought you would’ve forgotten about that.” you wish she had, even if you certainly hadn’t.

“never. i’ve been thinking about it all semester.” she admits bashfully. “i want you to come.”

“danielle…” you trail off, kicking a stone on the ground. should you be able to do so? or would your blood taint the ground that her sun shines on. the ground that she shines on. “i, i don’t know.”

“what’s stopping you? is it that person you mentioned”

it’s a lot. you want to spill everything out: the conflicted feelings, how shameful you are to be you, and everything else that’s scattered throughout your mind and tormenting you. maybe it’s internal, maybe everything is just in your head. being with her at every location she sent in the envelope sounds like a dream. still, something is gnawing at you from the inside. “there’s… there’s nothing.”

“then come.” she says it like you have no choice. you really don’t have one when she gives you that sincere, longing look.

her eyes seem to shine, glowing under the rays that brighten her features. you can’t help but sigh, “alright.”

—

the end of your sixth year is a bit more overwhelming, much more emotional for sure. everyone is focused on what they can do for their future, their plans for the new year, which means everyone’s bracing for big changes.

your friend group bids their farewells, wishing you a wonderful summer and hopefully for everyone to meet at some point before the upperclassmen’s last year. danielle is at your side whole time, the farthest she would be is arms length while she’s hugging everyone before walking off with you.

you’ve bought the tickets for the flight back to newcastle, which almost didn’t happen because danielle nearly fought you for it. you had to explain to her that it wouldn’t dent your pockets—your parents’ technically—multiple times before she calmed down.

the two of you board together, blending in with the muggles and catching a few older wizards here and there. danielle gets the window seat and you sit in the middle. the universe also seems to adore you, making it so that there’s no third person in the row. just you and danielle.

the plane starts to shift, then it rolls forward, faster, and starts to take off.

…

everything around you is muted as if the world has lost it’s color. you turn around trying to make sense of everything, but your environment is still like an old, faded photograph. it seems like you’re in the middle of a scene, not part of it but watching like an invisible bystander. you feel powerless, you can’t move.

a woman appears first, her silhouette framed against the backdrop of a coastal town. there’s a baby girl in her arms, the expression on her face is a mix of resolve and heartbreak. you blink and the scene changes immediately, your father—or at least a younger version of him—standing tall and cold. his voice is sharp as he dismisses the woman and her child.

“this,” his eyes dart between the woman and her child. “cannot go on. we’re cutting ties, no questions asked. my relations with a muggle like you can’t be revealed.”

his words sting even though they’re not directed at you, and the finality in his tone sends a chill down your spine.

the woman doesn’t argue. she clutches her daughter tighter, walking away without looking back. even in your place, you can feel the weight of what was left unsaid, the bitterness and pain that she’s carrying. your father shows no remorse, watching until they disappear, then turning and walking back into the shadows.

the scene shifts abruptly, and now you see the girl. she’s older, around eleven, standing at the entrance at hogwarts in her hufflepuff robes. her dark eyes are identical to yours, and right now they’re filled with wonder and nerves. her mother’s encouragement echoes faintly in the air, but it’s her determination that shines the brightest. she strides forward, her head held high, and you can’t help but feel a strange sense of pride.

time skips again. the girl grows up before your eyes, excelling in her studies, earning her prefect badge, and finding joy in the company of a slytherin girl whose hand she holds with quiet affection. yet, there’s a shadow that follows her—a secret she keeps buried deep. there are times when she’s looking into the mirror, her dark eyes staring back, and you can sense her bitterness toward the man who abandoned her, the man whose features passed onto hers. she has only heard of this man from her mother, seen him in old pictures and articles, but still, there’s a strong resentment.

soon, she’s at the corridor at hogwarts. it’s eerily quiet, the torches casting a light that flickers on the stone walls. your father is there, older now, but no less imposing. the girl rounds the corner, her robes swishing softly. when they lock eyes, both sets widening at the same time, the resemblance is striking—so evident that it momentarily stuns them both.

your father asks, “who are you?” his voice low and sharp.

her response is firm, the kind of tone that eliminates any doubt. “i think you know the answer to that.”

the silence between them is suffocating, and your father’s face hardens as if refusing to acknowledge what’s in front of him—who’s standing right before him. he turns on his heel, walking away without another word, leaving the girl standing alone. her shoulders straighten, and though her expression stays calm, you can sense the hurt radiating off her.

the dream shits once more. the girl is older now, maybe in her early twenties, smiling softly as she tends to a row of vibrant plants in a greenhouse alongside her fiance–the same slytherin from before. it warms your heart just a bit. they work together easily, the love they’ve built together and partnership palpable in the way they move around each other.

but then, a wizarding newspaper flutters into view, the headline catching her eye: “l/n’s revolutionize wizarding curriculum with bold new reforms.” as she studies the accompanying photo, her gaze sharpens. your face—from when you were around twelve or so—stares back at her, animated within the frame. your dark eyes, so much like hers and your father’s, flicker with life. the girl’s breath catches.

again, the scene dissolves. you look around to see a large estate, your family’s home in oxford. the woman stands at the door, hesitant but determined, her wand tucked securely into her coat pocket. she knocks, and the sound reverberates like thunder on a stormy night.

you’re pulled closer now, the dream drawing you into the moment. your point-of-view is switched, now you’re transported to a memory you remember in fragments. you’re thirteen and waiting for the butler to open the door, curious as to who’s here so abruptly. your parents are in the dining room, so they don’t see the woman walking through. she looks curious, hurt, and when her eyes land on you—there’s a glint in her eyes.

“i think i’m your sister.” is the first thing she says. she says it as if sighing from relief, like dots have connected into one big picture.

she walks closer, you hesitate and step back. there’s something in her look that reassures you, gives you a sense of comfort and security. the butler quickly rushes over and grabs her wrist, viewing her as a threat until you motion for him to back down.

“that’s not possible,” but in the moment, you really think it is.

before she can add on, your father appears. he’s seething.

…

you jolt awake, your chest tight and heart racing. you place your palm over your head, shut your eyes, and attempt to calm yourself down. you stay in place as the revelation presses down on you, the pieces of your family’s secret suddenly so much clearer.

you figured out about your secret sister in that moment during the dream, remembering it much more clear now. you remember your dad scolding her, nearly hitting her until she draws her wand out. you shiver remembering everything.

she’s the person you should have apologized to as soon as she was sent out. you remember the longing and care in her look when she turned back to see you one more time, then left without another word. you wanted to run out after her, apologize for not doing anything, and simply talk to her. that woman is your sister, the sister you played bystander for while your father yelled the most unorthodox curses at her.

now you’re on the plane back to where she lives, which you only know because she managed to slip a small note before she left. an owl delivered something that same night, only a note with a number and an address. you rub your face with one hand, realizing that the other is occupied.

looking down just a bit you catch sight of danielle. she’s fallen asleep next to you, her breathing slow and steady, her head resting on your shoulder comfortably. her arm is linked with yours loosely, and you instinctively move it to hold her hand again. her touch is calming, making you forget your dream just a bit. a surge of confidence courses through you, urging you to press a light kiss on her head.

you fall asleep quickly after that.

—

you land without any detailed dreams. danielle stretches her arms before you two wait to leave your seats and grab your luggage. she walks down the aisle first and you follow her out, hands meeting one another once you’ve stepped into the airport.

shortly after (almost too quickly) you meet her parents. they’re bright and cheery just like her—parents beaming like this had been foreign to you. they greet you kindly, hugging you as if they’d seen you before. you melt into it, tears welling.

the drive back isn’t too long and you enjoy every second of it. danielle’s pointing out some of her favorite aspects of the scenery, sharing some short stories, and her parents start a simple, yet lovely, conversation that everyone joins in on. you’ve never felt so at ease.

when you get to her house (danielle had to fight you (again) to convince you to stay there. you argued that you could spend the whole time at some hotel, but danielle did not approve at all) she leads you in happily. she leads you to her room which sparks the revelation that you’re going to be staying in her room. most likely sleeping in the same bed as her. your heart rate speeds up.

she helps you with your luggage, setting it down in the corner before flopping onto her mattress tiredly.

“it’s so great to be back.” she sighs joyfully. “come lay with me.” and you do so, setting yourself down delicately since you’re terrified of disturbing anything.

“we’re sleeping… together?”

“yeah, on my bed.” danielle turns her head to meet yours. “it’s a queen, so it’ll fit us wonderfully.”

for sure, but there’s a light hunch that tells you danielle is going to be in your space. you’re not sure if you can handle that while conscious.

“it’s comfortable. your room, your family, um, everything.” you mutter.

“that’s how it is here.” she mumbles quietly, staring at your lips dangerously. you bite down before looking away, getting up and examining her room to save yourself from the strange feeling in your stomach.

“your room is really nice. it’s so you.” you say as you look over to plants on her windowsill with leaves that spill onto her shelf. it’s quite saturated, bright, and lovely. it really is her. the scent of it is also just like her—sweet, floral, and soothing. “makes mine seem a little dull,” you add, picturing the monotonous space for yourself back home.

“i bet your room is lovely.” she argues while sitting back up. “hey, let’s go eat something. i think my mom saved us some yogurt and fruit. we can make something yummy for that! oh, i wonder if we have granola…” she’s already up and going, urging you to follow her out.

—

time spent with her is extremely calming. there’s a unique peace that comes with following her around, conversing freely, and staring at her face when she’s not looking. the thud in your heart is always banging against your chest when she’s near, always warming your cheeks up. you try not to mind.

(you focus on the way danielle interacts with the cashier, handing her a few bills and smiling from ear to ear. she compliments the cashier, spreading her contagious bubbly energy. everyone is smiling: danielle, the cashier, and you.

danielle has this weird thing where she can light up the room by just breathing in it. she steps in and it’s sunshine and rainbows.)

but even through these moments there’s always a lingering weight. the dream you had on the plane still sticks, and you’d be lying if you hadn’t searched for the address on the sticky note you received from your sister. it’s a twenty-minute drive from danielle’s place and closer to the beach, practically on it actually. the proximity keeps you awake at night even when danielle sleepily drapes her arm over your body while unconscious.

one night, when danielle’s closer than before—you notice that she’s always closer with each night, her head resting on your arm and hand brushing against your forearm this time—you’re unable to sleep. you keep your eyes closed for the longest time, try counting sheep, thinking of the good, and still, you’re fully awake. it’s terrible since the sleepless nights start to seep into the day, your energy lower with every twenty-four hours that pass. danielle notices, but you make excuses saying it’s the time difference despite adjusting the second day in.

the real problem is that your sister is here. you’re up late at night thinking on what to say to her, how to apologize, and whether you should see her or not.

your curiosity gets the best of you.

you slip away from danielle slowly, replacing yourself with two of her pillows before heading out. the door creaks and so does the floor, but everyone seems to be deep asleep. and so, you head out the back door, call a cab that surprisingly is still available at two in the morning, and head to the address you’ve memorized from reading it over and over and over.

…

the cab dropped you off quicker than the gps said it would. the house in front of you is on the smaller side, perfect for a family of three or four (if the two are willing to share a room). the wind brushes through the greenery that decorates the house, emphasizing the beauty of it.

you walk up the steps, though not without hesitating, and stop at the doormat. you raise your fist to knock lightly, second guessing because one: it’s late. and two: you’re terrified. your heart is beating out of your chest and not in the way that it does when danielle’s around, you might hurl.

but before you can even move your hand, the door opens. a woman appears in a tank top and shorts, the same woman from your dream.

“you’re actually here,” she looks at you in shock, though there’s a sense of relief, maybe joy even. “you have dad’s eyes.” she says lightheartedly.

your lips part as if to say something, but you can’t. you stare at her, she has dad’s eyes too. she has a lot more than just his eyes. there’s also a youth to her features, dark hair tied up into a lazy bun, and a face that screams ‘family.’ there’s also tattoos on her skin, small ones of plants, and others that you can’t make out in the dark. you also notice that she’s a bit shorter than you, maybe shorter than danielle.

“come in,” she says, opening the door wider and gesturing with her hand. “it's chilly this time of the year, especially at night. our seasons are flipped compared to europe’s.”

you nod, walking inside. she turns on a light and the earthy tones of the house are all visible now. the light is warm, dim, and highlights her features more as she sits down on the brown couch. you opt for the singular seat diagonal from her.

“tea?” she asks, to which you shake your head. she smiles softly, examining you close. “you’re not much of a talker, are you?”

“i just… don’t know what to say.” you admit, your voice low. “how did you know i’d be here?”

“i had a dream.” she starts, “you were in it. you were the main character actually. i was a bystander as i watched you roam around newcastle with this girl, and then i saw you on the way here. dreams are magical like that. everything is.”

you nod, taking everything in. you still feel stiff, but not out of place.

“do you remember me?” she asks.

“i do.”

“that’s a relief. i wish i’d gotten the chance to talk to you more before… father intervened.”

“i’m sorry.” you suddenly say, feeling helpless. “i should’ve done something. i wanted to. i tried to push that moment down and i just couldn’t. it used to linger in my head and mock me. even while i was here i couldn’t sleep knowing you were here. i’m sorry, i should’ve stepped in—”

“hey, hey.” she reaches over to pat your knee, then stands. “come with me to the kitchen, i’ll make you some tea.”

now you two are in the kitchen. she’s leaning against the counter while pouring some hot water into a mug with chamomile in it. she hands it to you, you take it and stare at the water. she sips, then continues.

“don’t be sorry. it’s not your fault. there wasn’t anything you could’ve done anyway. you were young and it was all abrupt.”

“i wanted to run after you. i just wanted to talk to you even for a bit, but i couldn’t find the confidence to.”

“and that’s okay.” she assures, sipping again. “your father is azazel l/n. his first name is evil itself.” she says half-jokingly. “speaking of names, i never knew yours. it’s funny, kind of, how i have a sister and know nothing about her. not even her name.”

“it’s y/n.” you state plainly, sipping on your tea for the first time.

you’ve known that you had a sister ever since that moment, even your father couldn’t deny it. you had asked him who the girl was and if she really was your sibling, to which he responded with a blunt “it’s not a matter you should focus on,” which basically meant “yes.”

“beautiful name.” she says. “my mother named me after a flower that can bloom at night.”

“primrose?”

“close! it’s jasmine, although i’m impressed with your guess.” she giggles while looking at you with a love in her eyes that you’ve never seen before. “my mom named me after it because she really likes the tea, but also because even in darker moments, i can still bloom.”

“that… that’s really beautiful.” you respond with admiration. “i um, i had a dream on the plane about you. i know it sounds weird but, i don’t know. i think your name suits you very well from what i’ve seen.”

she smiles then. you catch yourself grinning just a little bit too.

the rest of the hour is spent catching up. your sister asks the questions, you answer. the two of you find yourselves back on the couch sitting next to each other now. she’s reminiscing back on her years at hogwarts, laughing about how quick the sorting hat was to put her in hufflepuff. her radiant energy is so similar to danielle’s that it’s almost uncanny. she tells you about her time growing up as a muggle and slowly learning she has something else in her blood. she tells you about your father, her mother, and everything outside and in between. she tells you a great amount.

but there’s something different in her expression when she starts to talk about her wife. her smile grows, she relaxes into the cushion, and her tone is much more… adoring.

“we met during our second year. i almost ran into her with a broom and she got real mad at me.” she laughs, shaking her head. the moonlight’s rays seep through the windows and reveal the faint blush on her cheeks. “i did everything i could to apologize to her, or at least get her to smile. she was so blunt and, well, slytherin back in our earlier years. i got through to her eventually, and we became really good friends. there was a terrible divide with the houses back then, so it shocked everyone.”

“there was?”

“yup. and this leads to when i realized i was in love with her. she was so different, i mean, all the slytherin’s i knew would kind of bully me. i was strong, so i endured it easily. one time a slytherin was real mean to me, so mean that my wife stepped in and gave that guy a good punch to the face. she looked back at me then and i realized how much she meant to me.”

“was that it?” you question with a curiosity that wasn’t in your previous replies. “what else made you realize.”

“i think i’ve always been in love with her, maybe since i nearly crashed into her.” she chuckles. there’s stars in her eyes and she sounds like a romance lead. “you don’t really realize it until, well, it hits you like a bludger. my friends noticed before me though, there’s a look that gives it away.”

“a look?”

“yeah. like heart eyes in those cartoons. hey, you seem real interested in this.” she giggles, then turns her head as she sits up with a realization. “are you in love with someone?”

you blush. “what? i don’t— i’m—”

she notices how easily you’re flustered upon hearing the question. you’ve only met briefly and have shared your life stories in the quickest way possible, maybe that one is a little more personal. so she saves you from short-circuiting. her question is answered with your reaction anyway.

“i’m only teasing.” she says, yawning. “hey, it’s late. i can drive you back to where you’re staying. is it a hotel?”

“oh, no. i’m staying at a friend's place.”

“ah, okay. let’s get you back, it’s four and you’re still awake.”

—

your sister stops right in front of danielle’s. on the way back she’s asking about your studies, your friends, and a lot about you since she had talked about herself more at her house. you answer casually and yet your sister seems amazed. you laugh for the first time and your sister revels in it. your heart feels heavy with something you’ve never felt before. you assume that it’s the feeling of what it feels like to be loved unconditionally, with no expectations or anything, just love that exists because you’re family.

“hey, tomorrow—or, well, today—come over to shop. it’s down the road from my house, a ten minute walk down the right. maybe less than two kilometers? just walk down, and when you see a ton of plants you’ll know where you’re at.”

“i will. i’ll have to ask my friend, i think we’re hiking or something until late afternoon.”

“that’s perfect then!” she beams. “bring something to swim in, the beach is a short walk from there. bonding time, you know?”

“yeah, got it.” you mutter. “i’ll see you.”

“see you, my little sister.”

you give her a hug and she smells exactly like her name—jasmine. she bids you farewell and you do the same, then head towards the back of the house to come in the same way you left.

when you reach danielle’s room again, the door creaks just as it did before. you cringe at the sound, which is much louder than before. danielle shifts just barely, but it seems like she’s still asleep. you get into bed, moving the pillows you used as a replacement and slipping back to the same position you were in before.

“where were you?” danielle says softly, sleepily. “the pillows aren’t as comfy as you.”

shit. you’re caught off guard, feeling your throat close up a bit. “i, um.” you try to find words, but it’s hard to explain years of a secret all while danielle pulls you closer like you’re her teddy bear. “i went to see my sister.” you say, because what else is there to say.

danielle stays silent for a bit before snuggling even closer. “okay.” she murmurs against your skin. “tell me more tomorrow.”

“okay danielle.”

—

tomorrow comes, you’re in the car with her parents and squished with her and her sister in the back. her parents hum along to the song on the radio and her dad talks about how he wanted to buy it on vinyl when he was a teenager.

during the hike you often get alone time with danielle. she doesn’t question the whole sister ordeal and instead takes as many pictures she can of you, but eventually she does mention it.

“so, you really have a sister?” she questions as she takes a picture of the view, looking into the screen of the digital camera to take a look.

“yeah.” you reply while staring out into the distance. “she invited us over to her shop, if you’re willing to go with me this evening.”

danielle looks up and right in your eye. “i’m willing to go anywhere with you.”

—

the walk from your sisters house to her shop is just above ten minutes, which gives you enough time to explain the sudden information about you having a sister. danielle frowns hearing some of the parts, especially anything including your dad, but smiles when she hears about the reconnection—and how much you look up to her despite only knowing her very briefly.

the building is surrounded by plants, there’s even plants decorating the exterior as well. the sign on the door reads ‘closed,’ but when you approach and knock twice, jasmine is right there to open it for you.

“there you are!” she greets, then looks at danielle. “you must be y/n’s friend, yeah?”

“yup! i’m danielle, nice to meet you! she told me about you on the way.”

“wonderful! come in, come in.” your sister directs you two inside. both of you are immediately struck with awe upon seeing the beauty of the interior. it’s green, bright, and smells wonderful. there’s a variety of plants that danielle’s eyes sparkle at, she even makes that high-pitched sigh she usually does when she sees something cute or cool. your sister smiles, nudging danielle. “you can explore all you want, we’re closed. there are wizarding plants in the back portion of the place if you want to check them out, but be careful of course.”

danielle nods eagerly, it’s cute. you grin as you witness her curiosity get the best of her, watching her happily.

your sister notices this, narrowing her eyes slightly while a subtle smile tugs at her.

it isn’t long before you meet her wife, who’s taller than your sister but still shorter than you. she has softer features but more serious energy, a slight contrast to your sister. she greets you warmly as if you’d met her already. and then you all head out, but not before danielle snaps a few pictures of both muggle and wizardly plants.

your sisters wife luna (her name a perfect pair for your sisters) shares a few stories about your sister, herself, and really just anything. she talks less than your sister, but everything she says is worth listening to. you all find yourselves at the beach not too long later, setting down a blanket before your sister runs off with her wife hand in hand.

it’s then that danielle urges you two to do the same, grabbing your hand and pulling you up on your feet. you giggle before running toward the water, with her, your feet sinking into the sand where the waves brush over. danielle’s talking about how nice the water and weather are, or something. you really can’t tell because she looks gorgeous in the moment. you can’t believe she just looks like that without trying.

“tired?’ your sister asks as she sits down next to you on the towel. you two are watching as luna takes pictures for danielle, helping her with poses and timing each jump before capturing the moment. “you should get lots of sleep tonight.” your sister advises.

“i will.” you respond, your gaze still on danielle.

your shoulders relax, your eyes soften, and you smile to yourself. jasmine nudges you, making you hum in response.

“you’re in love with her, i can see it in your eyes.”

“what?”

“that’s the same look i gave and still give my wife.” she chuckles, turning back to look at the two. “she’s just as in love with you.”

“you don’t know that.”

“i can tell just by how you two interact. she reminds me of how i was back then.” your sister sighs. “and she’s looking at you now,” you turn to look over, and your sister is right. danielle is looking right at you, walking up and waving for you to come over. “go take a picture with her.”

“do you really think she likes me too?”

“she doesn’t like you, y/n. she loves you. i don’t think just anyone brings their friend over for the summer—well, winter—back at their home. she adores you, i can see it in her eyes too.”

you give her a skeptical look, pursing your lips and sighing before you get up. you give your sister one last remark, “i trust you.”

she laughs. “i’m glad.”

—

after the sun completely sets, your sister and her wife tap out early. they tell you they’ll wait back at their shop and say they had to clean up a bit—but you can tell there’s another reason they left you alone in the look they exchange.

now it’s just you and danielle sitting on the towel covering the sand. your hands prop yourselves up and you two are staring towards where the sky meets the sea. it’s a little cold, so you give danielle the light jacket you brought.

“i’m really glad you came, even if you weren’t a hundred percent sure you wanted to.”

“i— what?”

“you hesitated. you always do.” she says plainly, crossing one leg over the other. “but i’m glad you went through for me. i appreciate it. you mean the world to me, you know?”

“you mean the universe to me, danielle.”

“yeah?” she questions, turning to look over at you, her eyes glossy with the moonlight.

you nod. your fingers crawl over just barely to meet hers. “i just, i think about a lot of things and most of the time it’s you. you’re someone i’ve grown to care about a lot. i don’t think i’ve met anyone like you.” you begin, voice soft, fragile, and sincere. “you made me realize that there’s a lot of good in this world. there’s a lot of good in my life that i never knew could be there.”

“there’s good around us all the time. i’ve always been surrounded by that, but when i ran into you i knew there was ‘great.’”

you chuckle, then. it’s a weird statement, but so sentimental that your heart aches a bit.

“y/n.”

“yeah?”

“i always thought you were really cute.” danielle is staring down at the sand now, growing shy. “you’re the prettiest person i’ve ever met, inside and out.”

“i think that way about you too.”

“really?” she asks.

you nod.

“danielle.”

she hums.

“i love you.” you breathe out, “i love you more than anything.”

danielle responds by leaning in for a kiss. all you can imagine is doing this over and over again for the rest of your life—her lips on yours, hand on your cheek, and scent overwhelming your senses. for the first time, there’s not a single doubt in your mind, nothing to make you spiral, just the thought of her and her only.

she pulls away to smile at you. a small smile, which is rare for her. but this one is a little toothy, and similar to a warm embrace. you lean in again, then, and kiss her once more.

“i love you too.” she says while her hand slides down to the base of your neck and yours tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “i’ve loved you since the first time i caught you smiling in the library.

danielle eagerly presses her lips against you again, albeit a bit more aggressively this time. her arms wrap around your neck and she keeps you close, your forearms holding both of your weights as you kiss and kiss again. and this is what love is, you think. it’s the prettiest girls lips on yours, her wavy hair in your hands, her muttering something adoring in between kisses, and everything else that happens with danielle.

—

you spend the rest of the break with your sister, her wife, and most importantly danielle. the two of you frequent their shop, the beach, and danielle’s porch.

the porch is freeing, you spill secrets and confessions that have been sitting inside of you waiting to be released. you tell danielle that you don’t really care about whatever your last name holds, about your passion for painting, and how you want to live a relaxed life. nothing big like your father. you tell her about how the sorting hat nearly sorted you into hufflepuff, and how you managed to get sorted into slytherin all because of your determination to make your father proud. you tell her about regrets, worries, goals—everything. and danielle listens, she listens to all of it while her hand is linked with yours, or her head is on your shoulder. or both.

danielle’s there for you and you’re there for her.

then the break ends, your days of freedom and messing around—and nights spent unable to part from one another, hands roaming and lips puffy. you two bid farewell to danielle’s family and yours, then head back on the plane back to hogwarts. you don’t have a strange dream this time. everything you’ve been spiraling about isn’t a worry anymore. you’re content. you’re happy. you’re ready to face anything that’s in your way.

—

your last year of hogwarts starts off with your friends pretending to be surprised that you and danielle finally confessed. haerin teases you, but not nearly as much as hyein and hanni. they especially tease you when danielle is caught giving you a peck on the cheek before and after classes when you two have to part ways. it’s grueling sometimes, but who cares.

heeseung is out of the picture. he ignores you completely, but there’s a slight air of jealousy that comes off of him. you couldn’t care less, not when danielle is always at your side.

and time flies quickly, the end of your last year coming to an end. hyein is devastated that her friends are off to the real world, but of course you all assure her it will be alright. the six of you spend your time goofing around here and there, sneaking out, hiding in corridors before the janitor catches you—just living. you never would’ve guessed that you’d make it here, that you’d branch out and turn out completely opposite to how you started.

when you graduate, you cut ties with your parents completely. they’ve never supported you unless it was in their favor. of course, they were furious. they scolded you, expressed their disappointment and everything else. you simply took it and left with your things, moving on with your life without them. your life with danielle and people who loved you unconditionally.

—

you’re nineteen now and living with your sister in the spare room of her house. your room is cluttered with various art supplies—acrylic paint, oil paint and pastels, canvas’, pretty much everything you could find in the craft store. fortunately, you’ve made a good amount of money with your hobby, selling a few pieces online and at flea markets by the beach. a few of your works make their way over to your sister's building, hanging above tulips and beside mandrakes.

your days are peaceful, with no OWLs to prepare for, and nothing heavy on your shoulders. the most you worry about is figuring out which movie to watch with your girlfriend or what you should cook for dinner on certain nights—scratch that, the biggest worry is definitely the possibility of the tentacula in your sisters backyard snapping out of nowhere.

but really, you’ve spent your time painting, creating, and loving. everyday is spent with danielle, you make sure of it. she has her own mug in your sisters place, a signature side on your bed, and the biggest space taking up your heart.

“i just remembered something,” you mumble to danielle. the only sound heard is your breaths mingling together while you two are tangled in danielle’s bed.

“what?”

you laugh lightly. “remember that rumor about me pushing a girl? i think it spread during our third year or something.”

danielle’s drifting off to sleep, her head on your chest, blinking slowing down—but she still hums in response.

“it wasn’t a girl i pushed—it was heeseung.”

you feel danielle giggling against you before she shifts over to press a lazy kiss on your neck. “that’s so dumb.” she mutters almost incoherently.

“yeah. i just remembered it randomly.” you respond, the drowsiness getting to you. “am i keeping you up?”

“no,” she sounds like an alarm had just annoyed her awake. “i like when you talk like this.”

“you like it so much that you’re about to pass out?”

“mm.” she sighs, shifting one more time before pausing completely, the only movement being her heart against her chest.

how this happened is still a blur, your time with danielle and her charm that reeled you in (maybe she casted a spell on you, you think. but then you think again: she is the spell). but when your days end like this, with her sprawled over you; there’s no one else that could bewitch you like her.

#kpop x reader #newjeans x reader #danielle x reader #danielle marsh x reader #mo jihye x reader #mo jihye #danielle marsh #newjeans danielle

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