#but by now they know each other well enough and they keep each other at arm’s length so any fight blows over in a few days

[ridingthatd]

❝ FUCKABLE! ❞

gojo and geto are assigned a significant task by their teacher, they have the duty of returning you to tokyo jujutsu high. but what would happen if they both find you fuckable?

warning : heavy smut, degrading, breeding, a lot of cum, phone sex, masturbating, three sum, anal sex, pussy talk, dirty, filthy, very kinky

fucking pervert. gojo spit out these harsh words out of his mouth, as he run his fingers through his wet hair. he's been in the shower for quiet awhile now, rethinking whatever he has done an hour ago, what happened to him? is he this desperate?- is he this desperate to fuck his cock with a thong who belongs to the girl he has to keep safe.

satoru thinks and thinks and thinks staring at his hard cock in the shower should he- no no he already did enough, but maybe if he just let it out maybe he will feel better? maybe if he beats his cock in the shower enough he will get tired of beating it, then he wouldn't have to worry about being hard anymore- well at least thats what he thought.

grunts and groans fills the shower, but it wasn't as loud as the water that was running down his body, satoru groans thighs shaking as he stroke his cock in away he never had- so fast, so hard he wouldn't be surprised if the skin of it tear off from how hard he's gripping it, head on the wall of the shower, water dripping down his face, he can't breath, he can't breath because of how suffocating it is to feel this hot- from the warm shower running and of course from the thoughts he's having right now.

having you here with him, bending you over pushing you into the shower wall, boobs squeezing into it, and head rolling back as you desperately give him a sloppy kiss sucking his tongue into your mouth- he looks at the shower wall it was covered with multiple cum spots- his cum, he had came 4 times fucking 4 times and this is about to be his 5th- he wishs you were the one who's covered with his cum shots instead of the cold wall of the shower, his eyes crossed as he imagine your ass- tits - face - thighs covered with his cum, and this seem to send him to the edge as he cums one more time with a long groan and shaky legs. he slides down the shower to shaky to even stand up.

"satoru~" you teasingly call out his name, looking for non other then your favorite sorcerer, you glance inside the kitchen and there he is- his back facing you as he seems to be putting something in the oven, rolling his eyes because he knows once you call his name this way- it means you're up to something annoying.

you sneakily snuck behind his back and warp your ice cold hands inside his shirt- in intention to freak him out, but your silly little action has started a fire- that will break open you.

gojo freezes, standing still, you start giggling thinking you finally caught him off guard, screaming a-

"gottcha that's what you get-" you weren't

able to continue your sentence because gojo is already on you, he was so fast that you let out a yelp as he painfully grabs your hips between his hand and pick you up pushing you toward the kitchen counter, pushing his forehead against yours- your warm breath is mixing with his from how close he was, nose bumping against each other-your breath hitch not understanding what's happening.

"gotcha" gojo whisper lowly against your lips as he stare at them, you can basically feel them faintly brushing against yours as he mutters those words out, you didn't reply- you couldn't, to busy staring at his lips, as he do the same.

satoru doesn't know what got into him- he surprised himself as much as he surprised you.

"satoru" you whisper against his lips, having no motive of pushing him off, so gojo get enough courage to slowly stroke his hand up your thighs, as he keep staring at your lips, he can feel your breath hitch as he squeeze your thighs, trailing his hand up and up till he reachs the skirt you were wearing- he fucking love your skirts, he adore the collection of your skirts, how it let him catch a glimpse of your peachy ass and your plumpy thighs, and most importantly he always think about how easy the access is, he could just bend you over, sliding your panties to the side and shove his cock in with no hesitation.

his hand hovers on your skirt, gojo lick his dry lips, as he look in your eyes asking for permission to slide his hand inside that little skirt of yours. as if you knew what he wants you slowly place your hands on top of his- pushing it inside your skirt placing it on your upper thighs, his fingers gazing against your panties.

he groans against your lips, pushing against you more- because you just gave him the permission he needed so he won't have to hold back anymore.

you let a whimper when gojo squeeze your thighs hard, "you like that yea?" he darkly questions as he knead them harshly.

you nod eagerly, pushing yourself against him, pressing your boobs into him- and gojo finally snaps, picking you up from the counter, squeezing your ass between his hands, as he finally take your pretty mouth against his- finally.

you moan in his mouth and he growls in yours- fuck it tastes so good so good, your tongue against his swirling around together, he pulls back, a string of spit connecting both of your tongues.

"satoru" you mummer staring at him with high eyes and he pull back into a kiss again, wet kissing noises filled the hallway as he makes his way into the living room with you in his arms.

he doesn't make it halfway because he push you against the wall instead, rocking you against his hard cock. you break the kiss, throwing your head back moaning at how good his cock feels- dry humping you.

gojo trails his nose against the side of your neck, huffing as he whisper harshly. "you needy baby? you needy for my cock?"

he pushs harder- it felt to good for you because you thankfully wore a skirt so he's directly stroking his closed cock against your panties, it felt to good because the feeling of the harsh fabric of his jeans rubbing against your clit takes you on cloud nine.

he grabs your hair and turn you around, pushing your face and whole body against the hallways cold walls, he immediately start grinding his hard on against your ass- but the only difference is that you no longer feel his pants- he's only wearing his boxers.

"look what you do to me y/n, you feel this hard cock hm?" he says as he grab your hair pushing your head back to look at him.

but you were to out of it to answer to busy focusing on the way you're so close to cumming, you only snap out of it when gojo pushes your panties down your legs, and shove his finger in without any warming, causing you to yell out.

"I asked you a fucking question didn't i?"

he says harshly as he scissors his fingers inside of you, groaning in your ear from how tight you felt around him.

"ple- please please" this is the only words that managed to come out of your mouth,as you rock against his fingers, mouth half open.

"aw you poor baby you wanna cum on my fingers hm? you wanna squirt on them?" he coo at you sucking on your neck, as he shove them into you faster.

"yes yes yes" your eyes roll, as you roll your hips into him matching his pace. only to whimper when you feel him removing his fingers and licking them clean moaning at your taste.

you were about to complain but gojo already picked you up, throwing you against his shoulder as he makes his way toward the living room throwing you on the couch, freeing his cock out of his boxer, it sprungs out hitting his abdomen. your mouth water out from how big he is- fuck he was so beautiful, pinkish red, veins, and a trimmed white hair. he strokes his cock looking at your wet pussy, he was about to do what he has been fantasizing about till- a ring sound fills the room.

it was your phone laying on the couch next to you, gojo was quick to grab it before you smirking at who's calling- geto.

your eyes goes wide as he click the answer button and put it on speaker placing it next to you. "hello sweetheart, where tf are you? I have been waiting for the past 30 mins" as your hands made their way towards it, gojo shoves his hard cock inside of you.

you moan out loud, he was so big so big, gojo eye rolls, he's shaking, he doesn't know why but he's shaking so bad, after all it was his first time fucking a pussy this tight and the feeling of your tight wet pussy clenching so hard around him has him overwhelmed, "y/n?" geto on the phone confusedly ask.

but you were to busy staring at satorus shivering body, as he leans in placing his forehead on yours, eyes clenched shut, mouth opened.

you completely forget about geto as you slowly flip him and get on top of him. he holds you by the waist gazing at you with adoration. you slowly sink on his cock, he groans fingers digging inside your hips, to your surprise he whimpers. and it turns you on so much that you fully go down. whimper after whimper leaves him.

"y/n" he chokes out, you lean in giving him a sloppy kiss that he returns, "yes baby I'm here" you say.

"please move or I might lose it" he breaths out harshly, you slowly start rocking your hips, to scared to do anything more then that- but what catch you off surprise is when gojo lift you up and push you down hard against his cock, both of you moaning at the same, he repeats it lifting you and tugging you down, you're basically jumping on his cock right now, eyes crossed from how harsh gojo is handling you- like you're nothing but a fuck toy.

"gonna cum inside of you, gonna fill you with my cum" gojo groans out, as he sit up and hug you into him, just to push up your shirt, taking your nipples into his mouth, biting them, and swirling his tongue around them, as he fucks up into you. bouncing you on his cock, oh how much he loves this view.

"fucking hell-" a moan comes out- but it's not from him or from you, it's from the phone, it was geto, he was still on the line clearly listening to what's happening, but that does nothing other then turn you on even more.

"satoru stretch her ass out for me, make sure her little tight ass is stretched out for me" geto speaks out his dirty words, you thought gojo will be made at his friend for ordering him around but to your surprise his eyes sparkle at the idea.

"mm y/n im gonna stretch your second pretty hole for geto yea? we can't be selfish can't we?" he spit this venom out as a smirk slowly creeps out on his face from your shocked expression. "what are you-" his fingers spread your cheeks apart, trailing circles on your hole.

"awe dont tell me you actually thought I would be jealous of my friend-tch i thought u were smarter then that sweetheart, how can I be jealous of my own fuck buddy" you couldn't even react to his words, because geto already shoved a finger up your tight ass- it was a new feeling for you, to overwhelming that it had you squirting on his dick creating an embarrassing wet sound.

"fuck- did she squirt" geto groan out from the phone. your body was drained out from the shockness of both- gojos confession and the new feeling.

but that didn't stop gojo as he pick you up and push you down his cock, bouncing your body on it.

he feels you clenching around his cock tighter "is geto hearing me fucking you turn you on? huh sweetheart" you moan loudly at his dirty words.

"does it turn you on to know that you're fucking his friend?" he says setting you and himself on the edge. " fuck fuck fuck im cumming fuck ima turn your insides white, fill you in, keep you warm and nice".

and that makes you cum again, clenching so tightly around him as you feel his hot cum spilling inside of you, he keep rocking his hips as he bring his mouth to yours, sucking on your tongue.

"never came this hard from masturbating before" geto moans out, indicating that he also came. satoru stare at your sleeping figure as he slowly brush your hair out of the way, he was lying about not being jealous of geto- because of course he is, but was he lying about the fuck buddies part- no he didn't.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ we're doing better ]❜

ft. the salesman (gong ji-cheol) x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ your husband has finally been honest with you, but what now?┊3.0k words; prt one (here)

contains: his pov, lots of perspective and lore, love at first sight, happy ending where the reader forgives him, note that sociopathic/psychopathic behavior has no known cure & that this is unrealistic fiction, he can’t be fixed but he can be here <3

➤ author's note: the long-awaited & heavily-requested part two!! the ending is sucky because i didn’t plan to write a part two and because i personally wouldn’t have forgiven him, but lots of you guys seemed to want to. i wanted to write something exploring their relationship, so i hope this is received well & that you guys will enjoy!

“i love you too, i’ll be back in the morning” were the last words you said to him before rushing out the door and disappearing to your mother’s house. that was last night, but it was now early evening with the sun finishing its descent over the horizon and you were nowhere to be seen. he briefly wondered if you were also watching it from wherever you were like he was through the window, knowing that you adored the beautiful array of colors blending into each other and always pointed it out when you were with him. he never cared for it himself and took the sight for granted until you came along. now he’s aching for your presence asking him if he thought it was pretty when you were always the prettiest sight in his eyes with the orange light reflecting on you.

his hand was itching to call you or send a text, but he decided against it. you needed your space, especially after that fateful conversation which left him with regret weighing heavy on his chest. he wasn’t sure what the regret stemmed from, if it was regret from not trying harder to keep his secret, if it was from not being more careful to hide his tracks from seong gi-hun, if it was from attempting to build a normal life, or if it was leading the type of life had in the first place. it was a mix of everything, and he hated the feeling of it.

gong ji-cheol never regretted anything in his life. he didn’t regret spending his days getting a sadistic kick out of playing judge and jury to people he viewed as worthless trash when they lost against him, whether it was slapping people he was recruiting into games they would inevitably die in or spending his free time messing around with homeless people. he didn’t regret getting tangled up with the mysterious oh il-nam and the activities occurring on that island, starting as a guard and working his way up to a salesman. he didn’t regret firing a gun on his own father in cold blood when he unknowingly begged his own flesh and blood to spare him.

he’s a man who was steadfast and stubborn when it came to his fucked-up morals and ideals, always believing from a young age that it made him better than others. there was never a reason for him to change as he got older when he found himself working for a hidden organization that introduced him to the addicting taste of death, paid well, and protected him from the law if the unlikely situation of getting caught by authorities for his crimes ever happened. he never cared to do the right thing was doing wrong was just so much more suited to him, never minding the strict set of rules he had to adhere to as long as he was allowed to freely exercise his psychopathic tendencies without trouble following him. it made him feel like a god at times who was so high above normal people if he ignored that he was still an employee with a boss.

and now he’s sitting in the living room, disheveled and staring at the floor waiting for your return like a dog awaiting its master.

he couldn’t even be mad at you for storming out like that. he’s surprised about how mellow your reaction was to learning the truth of his occupation and how dirty the cash he used to spoil you was, how you didn’t scream loud enough for the neighbors to hear, and how you didn’t call the police�� or maybe you had already called them at some point today and his friends in higher places were working to keep him safe. more than anything, he misses you, filled with a feeling of longing he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before.

at first, he was only trying to look normal. the people around him started to wonder why a man as tall and handsome as he with money that flowed in like water from an unknown source he kept secret was still single. when people wonder, they start to become nosy. he couldn’t have that if he wanted to keep up the lifestyle he had, so he started searching for someone suited to be his wife. 

to others, he seemed incredibly picky, never reaching out for a second date even once or even bothering to send a polite text saying he didn’t feel a connection. to him, he didn’t think he was picky enough. despite carefully combing through his options and sometimes even hiring private investigators to stalk them if needed, there was always something he missed which was a dealbreaker for him in a relationship: ignorance and stupidity, improper table manners when he reserved at a fine restaurant, running more than fifteen minutes late without traffic in the way, and most importantly for him, asking too many prying personal questions which weren’t relevant on the first date. yes, he understands that first dates are all about getting to know each other, no, he doesn’t find it necessary to talk about stupid things. although he would rather not say anything at all, he’s very particular about how quickly he shares information about himself with others and gets ticked off by anyone who tries too hard to learn more about it (he won’t admit it, but he also gets a bit threatened by it).

by the time the day his first date with you rolled around, he was ready for it to be his last before he lived out his life alone as originally planned. he lost his faith that he would find someone who lived up to his lofty expectations and received news that oh il-nam was dead. the next games were canceled to mourn the loss of the founder, and part of ji-cheol wondered if he should cancel the date as well to take the time to pay his respects. he didn’t think you would be the one and believed there wouldn’t be any difference whether or not he actually showed up.

yet there was something in him that refused to pick up the phone and make up an excuse. it was indescribable like a higher power making sure that he followed the path intended for him. he told himself it was nothing but not wanting to be rude when it was only half an hour before the arranged time and because he didn’t want to pay the cancellation fee, nothing more nothing less. he never cared before if he was thought of as rude to people he didn’t intend to keep in his life for long, and he had enough money to buy the entire place if he wanted to.

so what was his problem all of a sudden?

you showed up perfectly on time, a few seconds before the clock struck, looking beautiful. it’s not a word he uses often. pretty, maybe, but not beautiful, yet it was the first word that crossed his mind when you introduced yourself. he found himself enamored by your presence and everything about it from how you carried yourself to the subtle glitter eyeshadow that made your eyes sparkle to the dainty jewelry hanging around your neck, so enamored that he forgot to accept your outstretched hand and to get up to pull out your seat for you at first.

more than easy on the eyes, dressed appropriately, good table manners, well-educated, never pressing too hard on matters he clearly didn’t want to talk about, you were quickly checking off everything on his list as his partner— although what he was really looking for was to draw away suspicions and your likable personality made you perfect for the job, he could even see you as a companion. even if you were visibly nervous, he didn’t mind, your timidness was adorable actually, akin to a little bunny being fed by his hand.

when he finally got home, he realized he was still smiling when he’s usually constantly reminding himself to do so. he also realized that he lost track of time and came back a whopping two hours later than he expected.

it was history from there, gong ji-cheol, a man who saw other humans as unequal trash, had succumbed to love at first sight, which baffled him.

it made him remember a scene from his childhood, one where he asked his mother why she remained married to his deadbeat father after another night of him not showing up in favor of gambling and drinking instead of spending it with his own family. she embraced him with tears, once again reminding him of her own tale of love at first sight, and also telling him that when you’re so deep in love like she was, you’re willing to forgive them for anything.

he thought she was stupid for that. now he knows he’s truly just like his mother just like everyone said.

you were shy in the first steps of the relationship, quickly realizing that you had become a glorified sugar baby of sorts. he didn’t know how to express his affection through words nor did he have the extra time to spend with you during that time of the year, so he spoiled you with lavish gifts and wealth beyond your wildest dreams. any debts you might have were paid off, one of the nicest condos in korea was bought for you to move in together, your parent's retirement was paid off in full to allow them to stop working, and any other money-related issues were quickly covered by him. you could even quit your job if you wanted to, but you didn’t want to become too dependent on him and wouldn’t know what to do with all the extra time in your day.

it soon became clear there was a boundary not to be crossed, which was not to dig too much into his personal life. if he gave you a curt, general answer to your question, you were not to say anything more about the matter. no one you spoke to about this thought this was too strange, even when you were preparing to get married, because what was there to worry your pretty head about? you love him and he loves you, he was treating you better than a queen, and his wealth spread into your circle of people you cared about with friends getting luxury perfumes and parents getting first-class tickets to wherever they wanted. in a way, they didn’t want to ask any more questions if it meant angering him and possibly not having these things anymore.

you never liked it, but he never cared about it. they were just trivial things and he was perfectly fine with sharing what he had, or at least, that’s what he told you. it was mainly to ensure he was well-liked among them and no one would ever try to come between you.

the only people who ever did were a few snakes parading as your friends trying to steal him away from you, trying to seduce him, and getting too close for his comfort. you were too sweet to notice and always forgave it if you did, but he noticed their lingering eyes and was disgusted. it was the one time he allowed his mask to slip, calling them out for being human garbage with a polite smile on his face as they gasped in shock. if they tried to cry to you about how awful he was to them, he simply told you the truth and encouraged you to cut them off which you always did.

the garden he carefully cultivated of a normal domestic life was flourishing. you were so captivated by the colorful flowers he planted and the butterflies pollinating them that you didn’t notice how dirty his gloved hands were when ripping out anything that didn’t belong like weeds trying to sprout through the soil. he was always sure to take them off and discard them afterward, never daring to touch you with the sins of his life outside of you.

then you fell pregnant after months of trying, and while he was overjoyed at first with renovations in mind to turn one of the extra rooms into a nursery, there was an unease in him wondering if the child would turn out like him: a remorseless psychopath who would one day kill his own father as he did his. he would later by a few books about parenting, hoping that he could prevent that type of future.

time flew by and he hadn’t killed anyone in a while although he was still complicit in hundreds of deaths a year. his violent urges slowly calmed and his hand was only raised during ddakji matches, but even then, they were more gentle than before (which meant that they still stung and made their face swell up, but it was an improvement when in the past, he would sometimes hit them so hard that they could taste blood on their tongue). 

the effects of being a husband and soon-to-be father were changing who he was at his very core, but it didn’t change everything he’s already done.

he was stupid to think he could have such a picture-perfect life with the woman he loved after everything. for someone who meticulously plans out things down to each syllable of the words he spoke, he didn’t have the foggiest idea what to do once he was found out.

the law couldn’t touch him, but he didn’t care about the law, he cared about you and your unborn child. 

he ran his hand through his messy dark locks, sighing in frustration trying to think of a solution as he dug around the kitchen until he fished out an entire bottle of wine. he could manipulate himself out of this situation as he had done countless times before, he’s a snake with a forked silver tongue who could easily get his way just by flickering it, but the thought of lying to you again broke his once unfeeling heart. it would never be the same way again with your relationship tainted with distrust. the truth would have to come out eventually.

oh god, but what would he do without you? 

before he could begin to spiral for the fourth time that day about what would happen if you left him, the familiar sound of a keypad being pressed and the front door being unlocked. he froze in place, not expecting you to come back at that very moment— but he wasn’t sure what he was expecting. he wasn’t sure of anything, simply staring at you when you caught him hunched over the counter drinking straight from a bottle of wine and looking like a child whose mom just caught him sneaking a snack at two in the morning.

“oh god, i leave for a day and you’re already a wreck, what happened to the ji-cheol who’s always put together even when it’s raining?” you approached him casually, reaching up to mess around with his hair until he looked more like his usual self. there was an air of awkwardness you tried to hide and was successful for the most part, but he could read you easier than a book. you were nervous around him now, acting with slight fear and carefulness like you were inching around a predator, and even flinched when he hugged you to feel your presence and breathe in your scent. 

you hugged him back after a moment, looking up at him with your voice shaking, “if it’s really… that… then i understand it would be dangerous for you to tell me, so i won’t ask any more questions… i don’t… i don’t want to leave you and leave our child fatherless…”

if you were any other person in the world, he would have smirked at the fact that he didn’t need to bother trying to manipulate you into staying with him. he would have relished his control over you and how you came back in the end, free to continue killing and asking people to play a game with him to satisfy his sadistic desires. 

but you weren’t any other person in the world, you were his wife.

“you really forgive me? after knowing all that?”

“i guess love really does let you look past everything no matter how bad… at least you didn’t cheat on me as my friends suggested, that would be the real unforgivable offense…”

the topic of his occupation never came up again, but he made the choice to resign on account of it no longer fitting with his current lifestyle. the current frontman, who was an old friend of his, looked upon him fondly for his loyalty, thanked him for his service, and was even kind enough to use his connections to find him a new place to work. it was boring by his standards, but it paid well and wasn’t illegal, so he persevered. he now has plenty of things to tell you about his workplace, from the annoying co-worker who keeps showing him the most random unfunny things on the internet to how the coffee shop downstairs wasn’t half bad. mundane things that made you grin when he told you about his day, which was all that mattered to him.

you soon gave birth to a healthy baby girl with his eyes and your smile. the world became a lot brighter, even with all the sleepless nights of her crying and learning how to change diapers. she was a little joy born out of his love for you. 

finally, you’re both doing better, and he no longer has to hide himself away from you.

tag list!! @tric0rd / @solatiiium / @iloveragdollcats / @sugaremedy / @pear-1206 / @orangutanjazz / @boowiththegoo / @knoepfl / @miaasmf / @queenjang21 / @larissa-slays69 / @munch3025 / @qrstarz / @capital-koreasofia / @swiftieee4lifeee / @liliylikescats / @maryyyswift / @vaenys2 / @bane-y-zane / @dynaloy / @chunkzdeluluwife / @everyonelovestay / @tomhollandtoothbrush

there will not be a part three, thank you for reading!!

[dedalvs]

Today is my 44th birthday. I was brought to my mother’s arms as Ronald Reagan was being sworn in and then went to the airport to welcome the Iranian hostages home—a meeting we now know was pre-arranged, as Reagan’s team negotiated to keep the hostages in captivity a little bit longer just so it could be Reagan, as opposed to Carter, who got the credit for releasing them.

Every four years my birthday falls on a US presidential inauguration. Some of those days are good; some are bad; some are terrible. Today is certainly one of the worst.

My birthday also sometimes falls on the day the US honors Martin Luther King, Jr.—or, when it doesn’t, always on a day very close to it. I always spend some time on my birthday thinking of him, too. Like all of us, he wasn’t perfect, but more and more what I think about regarding his legacy is how some of the things he said have been cherry-picked and stored like prize possessions in jeweled boxes for admiring every so often while the rest has been buried. MLK was an outspoken opponent of the Vietnam War, of income inequality, and of capitalism. Of all things I remember the first time I heard anything by him about that was in college when I happened into a record store in San Francisco and heard one of his speeches (not the “I have a dream” speech) remixed in a song.

Often you will hear that you should focus on what you can control. This is true, when it comes to your own personal well being—your state of mind. I feel like there should be a balance, though. Sometimes your well being is well enough that you can spare the anguish that comes with worrying about the state of the world—the many injustices you can’t fix, either by yourself or right away. We need that to push us to actually fix these things, either in small individual ways or collectively, through both direct and indirect action.

Each of us at different times in or lives—or on a micro level, at different times of the week or year—goes in and out of phases where we must focus on self-care and phases where we can look outward. Today I hope we can treat ourselves and each other with a little kindness when it comes to recognizing where it is we need to be in a given moment. Looking around on social media, it may seem that some are always on—always fighting, always pushing for change—and some are always off—cat memes, shipping, fandom. But that’s nothing but a small window into a person. First, that’s simply how that person interacts with one social media platform; it’s not their entire life. Second, it may be that this is the place they come to unwind—or, alternatively, this is the only place in their life where they can share the rage inside of them. Whoever they are, however they are, let them be, and offer them kindness. It’s going to take all of us to fight back.

[gojosprettyprincess]

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI!

Tw - STEPCEST, cheating, age-gap(early 20s n early 40s), anal play, daddy/dad kink, oral, some really inappropriate and gross stuff. Stepcest isn’t blood related. Not proofread.

A/n - “Toji wouldn’t do th-“ I don’t give a shit, goodnight.

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who secretly rubs your little pussy through your thin cotton panties from underneath the blanket while you're having a movie night with your family in the living room.

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who tells your clueless mother that he’s taking you on a daddy-and-daughter bonding trip for a few days so the two of you can spend more time together and get to know each other more which only ends up with his hefty cock being stuffed deep into your innocent pussy— filling you up to the brim in some random hotel not too far from your house.

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who instantly gets rock hard whenever you'd call him “dad” or “daddy”. He just can’t help when a sweet young thing like you is innocently batting your eyelashes up at him and asking him for his assistance. God, you’re so helpless, you can’t do anything without the help from your dad, not even cumming. :(

Which is why he has to sneak into your bedroom dead at night and skillfully poke his stepdaughter’s g-spot with his fat tip till you can finally cum and make a big mess on his cock.

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who's obsessed with you sitting on his face, your warm dripping pussy nestled in his mouth while his eager tongue skillfully laps at the essence of your arousal from your glistening entrance. His nose presses into your rim purposefully, causing your adorable hole to wink against his nose in playful response to his inhales and breathing. He needs you on his face at least once a day :(

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who you coincidentally encounter in the bathroom, late at night while he’s pissing so that quickly escalated with his girthy cock now being shoved down your throat and he's thrusting it rhythmically in and out your mouth. Your eyes begin to well up with tears which only fuels him even more to use your mouth to his favor as he deviously grins down at you when he notices how you're helplessly playing with your drenched pussy with your fingers.

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who gets off from being risky, especially when your mom is dozing off on the couch and he has you forcefully bent over the cold marble kitchen counter with one of his muscular hands pressed firmly against your lower back so you won't escape from his hold. His fat thumb is clogging your ass and his veiny cock is stretching your little pussy apart around his shaft while his angry tip is exploring the depths of your cunt.

He'd be such a mean man and force his thumb deeper and deeper into your asshole just so he can get a cute reaction from you and hear you whine while you desperately claw at his beefy forearm for him to stop :( He only chuckles and laughs at how scared you are as if you don't love it as much as he does.

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who loves referring to himself as Daddy while he's balls deep into your slippery hole. Your trembling knees are knocking against your soft, bouncing tits and you're desperately gasping for air while your nails are sinking into his strong hand that's encircling your neck. "Shh shh c'mon be a good little step-kid f'daddy and take my cock". He whispers, trailing a thumb up to your glossy lips before inserting it into your mouth for you to suck on.

His cock is crammed into your tight pussy, and the way you keep sucking him in deeper and deeper every hazy second makes him not want to pull out anytime soon. He just can't get enough of your pussy. "That's it, that's baby, yer making daddy feel sooo good".

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who has developed a habit of sniffing your cunt and ass, he just can't help it :( he just loves your natural scent and can't get enough of you when he's bending down behind your small figure while you're engrossed in cooking dinner for the family and pulls your shorts down to bury his pointy nose in your moist pussy.

A plague of worries clouds your head when you feel his nose prodding into your tight entrance in the open. "T-toji! n-not here, she'll see!", you pleaded as you attempted to push his head away from your rear only for him to clasp both of your hands into his larger ones with just a chuckle rumbling against your cunny. soft whimpers escape your lips when you hear his loud whiffs of your pussy.

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who loves nothing more than licking his step-daughter’s little pussy at any given chance he gets :(

It's so prohibited and “taboo” and the older man is very much aware of that but he just can't help it when he's quietly slipping into your bedroom late at night to run his salivating tongue over the sapping mound— He’s been practically thinking about it the entire day.

His clothed cock immediately starts twitching uncontrollably every time his grimy thoughts clouded his vivid imagination, all he could do at work was discreetly palm his hardened bulge and give it a hard squeeze for friction and temporary relief.

He barely could wait till everyone was asleep to taste your delicious pussy again.

A deep involuntary groan leaves his lips from the taste of your creamy pussy melting on his tastebuds. The sensation of the sticky slick clinging onto his tongue stirred a desperate throbbing in his cock, yearning for more. God, every fiber of his being ached to plunge his hard cockhead into your warm, virgin pussy and ravish you until you painted his shaft with your cream but he won't... at least not yet.

Luckily for him, you were sleeping on your stomach and the tranquility of your slumber allowed him to cautiously lower your adorable panties down, gently resting it at your lower thighs, and parted your plush cheeks using his thumbs to peek at your delicate pussy. The glossy sheen veiling your folds glistened in the dim light, making his fat cock throb with urgency.

“Fuck, so pretty” he whispered breathlessly, sticking his tongue out to lap at your messy folds, his tongue flickers back and forth, licking up at your wetness and replacing it with his spit and intertwining saliva. Unfortunately for him, you weren’t a heavy sleeper so the sensation of his soft, wet tongue wiggling against your most intimate place was enough to stir you awake.

Your eyelids flutter open weakly, giving way to the heavy fog of slumber that still clung to your countenance. Sleep is evident in your features as your tummy tingles from the continuous sensation of the stimulation. Your vision was clouded with fuzziness but you could still make out the muscular silhouette of your step-father.

He was huge and muscular, he wasn’t built like some ordinary man so there was no mistake that it was him.

“Daddy?”You mumbled innocently, rubbing your eyes in hopes of having a clearer view after.

“W-hat are you doing?”

“Shh shh, go back to sleep doll. Dad’s gonna take care of ya” he lightly chuckled before caressing your ass and placing a few wet kisses on your soft cheeks.

[jungwnies]

under pressure - max verstappen

୨ৎ : pairing : max verstappen x fem!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : a childhood love turned power couple, you and max find comfort in each other, navigating love and pressure together.

୨ৎ : genre : romance ୨ৎ : wc : 838

! requested !

The hum of the engine roared through the grandstand as Max Verstappen crossed the finish line, securing yet another win. The crowd erupted, but his eyes didn’t search for the team celebrating wildly in the paddock. Instead, they darted to the VIP box, scanning for you. And there you were, perched on the edge of your seat, a bright orange scarf wrapped around your neck despite the blazing summer heat. The Wimbledon trophy you’d won just last month had barely left the headlines, but here you were, blending into the world of racing like you belonged—because you did. You always had.

Max’s grin faltered slightly as he caught sight of you clapping. The usual spark in your eyes was dim, the weight of the constant media scrutiny hanging over you like a storm cloud. He knew that look all too well. It was the same one he’d worn after enduring years of relentless pressure, harsh words, and impossible expectations.

By the time he reached the motorhome, you were already there, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed. Your fiery confidence, the one that made headlines and caused commentators to stumble over themselves, was replaced with a quiet exhaustion.

“Another win,” you said, forcing a smile. “Does it ever get old?”

Max chuckled, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Not when you’re watching.”

You scoffed lightly but didn’t respond. Instead, you turned and stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind you. Max followed, his brows furrowed with concern.

“You didn’t stay for the celebrations,” he noted, his voice softer now.

“Didn’t feel like it,” you replied, sitting on the couch and burying your face in your hands. “Max, I…” You trailed off, your voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

He was by your side in an instant, his hand resting on your knee. “What happened?”

You lifted your head, eyes glassy but defiant. “Same old story. The media tearing me apart, saying I’m too aggressive on the court, that I’m not ‘graceful’ enough for women’s tennis. They’re calling me a bad role model, Max.”

His jaw tightened, anger flashing across his features. “They don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re the best player out there, and they’re just threatened by it.”

You shook your head. “It’s not just that. They’re saying I’m only winning because I’ve got you as my ‘emotional support,’ as if I haven’t spent years grinding it out on the court. They’re making me sound like I’m nothing without you.”

Max’s heart ached at the bitterness in your tone. “That’s not true. You’re a force of nature, with or without me.”

“I know that,” you snapped, then immediately softened. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“Hey,” Max interrupted gently, “it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize to me.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the hum of the motorhome’s air conditioning filling the space. Then, quietly, Max said, “You’ve been there for me through everything. My dad, the pressure, the times I thought I’d never live up to the expectations. You were the one who pulled me out of it.”

You turned to him, your expression softening. “Because I love you, Max. And I hate seeing you hurt.”

His throat tightened at your words, a mix of gratitude and something deeper threatening to overwhelm him. “And I hate seeing you like this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not just my world champion; you’re my everything.”

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. But the vulnerability lingered, raw and unspoken. You both understood what it meant to carry the hopes and dreams of others, to bear the scars of relentless ambition.

“Max,” you began, your voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this—pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. I don’t know if I can keep being strong.”

He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek. “You don’t have to be strong all the time. Not with me. We’ve been through too much to hide from each other now.”

Tears spilled over as you leaned into his touch. “I’m so tired, Max. Tired of fighting, of proving myself, of… everything.”

“Then let me be strong for you,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “Let me carry some of the weight. We’ll figure it out together, like we always do.”

For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to crumble, burying your face in his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. The barriers you’d both built to survive in your respective worlds came crashing down, leaving nothing but the raw, unfiltered truth of your love for each other.

When you finally pulled back, your eyes met his once more. “I love you,” you said, the words heavy with meaning.

“I love you too,” Max replied, his voice steady and sure.

And in that moment, amidst the chaos of your lives, you knew that love—vulnerable, messy, and real—was enough.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[mangionebabymama]

Red-Handed — Luigi Mangione

Summary: When Luigi, this super sweet and also really hot-looking computer science major guy that you’ve become friends with while attending UPenn, calls you before the upcoming homecoming game because he has a favor to ask. It’s kind of important.

Word Count: 5.9k (forgive me)

Warnings: Sexual tension through the roof!

A/N: As promised, my gift to you all for reaching 200 followers—and somehow, we’re now at 300-something and counting. My first ever official piece of writing on here, based on this little thought I had. Any feedback is appreciated! I hope you all enjoy it, and thank you for giving me the space to be here.

The phone vibrated in your hand, illuminating the screen with Luigi’s name. You paused for a moment, captivated by his contact photo—a candid, goofy selfie of him mid-laugh, dark curls playfully tumbling into his eyes. With a slight breath, you swiped across to answer, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“Hey,” you said, keeping your tone light.

“Hey, uh… I need a favor.” His voice was soft, almost hesitant, but beneath it lay an unmistakable urgency that sent a flutter of unease through your stomach. 

“What kind of favor?” you asked, curiosity piqued.

“Could you come by my dorm? Like… right now? It’s kinda important.” 

You glanced at the clock on your wall. It was late morning, not far from a quarter until noon, giving you just enough time to come back and get ready before the upcoming football homecoming game against Brown, which you planned to attend with Luigi, which was going to kick off at one. “Sure,” you replied, forcing a casualness into your voice despite the way your pulse quickened. “I’ll be there in five.”

Luigi. What a name that was, and what a young man you had recently become acquainted with and knew quite well these past two months while starting your first-ever semester of college at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia. He was a first-year student like you, who you happened to meet on the first day of school, stuck in the midst of finding the room number of your first class that afternoon, as he was finding himself doing the same. Oddly enough, your scheduled classes began at the same time, but they were across the hall from each other, which led the two of you to help one another look for the right place for your class location. Of course, that one chance meeting turned into a conversation; you and him introduced yourselves. Without one another, you wouldn’t have arrived on time for the first official day of your classes—the most stereotypical, unforgivably cringeworthy, yet frightening rookie mistake that any freshman could make on the first day, no less, at an Ivy League—and since then, your beginning college career hasn’t been the same with this newfound friendship with him.

He majored in Computer and Information Science, with a concentration in Artificial Intelligence, and even admitted to you that he possibly thought about adding a minor in Math. Luigi was undeniably, unquestionably brilliant, without a doubt. By sharing conversations with him, you learned that he was born and raised in a suburb of Baltimore, attended an all-boys school where he was the valedictorian of his graduating class, and decided to learn how to code simply because he loved playing independent games and wanted to create his own. Jokingly considering, he seemed like any other nerd that you would come across at an Ivy League, one who was enthusiastic about computers and would remind you of that about themselves every five seconds.  

Luigi was different, though. Out of all of the acquaintances you come to know and friends you made and connected with so far, at Penn, he was just… unforgettably special. Luigi was one of the sweetest people you had ever met and, in all likelihood, would do anything for you at any given time of the day, whatever might bring him your way, because his compassion for people was like no other. He cared about you; he cared for you. It looked as though one could take a step further and imagine him as that dream guy you find by chance once or twice in your lifetime, that one that exclusively seems too good to be true, even if he only lives in the thick of your dreams. He was personable, relatable, and genuine—despite his larger-than-life personality, you never forced yourself to belittle or magnify your authenticity in front of him. He liked you, for you, and you liked him, one and the same. 

It also doesn’t help when he’s incredibly, extremely good-looking, in the face of it all and your friendship. He was beautiful, to say the least. 

When you knocked on his door, it swung open almost instantaneously, revealing him in all his boyish glory—shirtless, his short, thick brown curls disheveled and tousled as if he had just woken up, standing in an old pair of basketball shorts. He held a big plastic bottle of bright red paint in one hand, and for a split second, your breath caught in your throat. 

“Hi,” he said, a playful grin spreading across his face, his bent arm leaning against the doorway, that charmingly wicked trademark of a smile of his always managing to make your heart flutter.

“Hi,” you managed to reply, your gaze momentarily drifting down his torso before snapping back to meet his eyes. It wasn’t that you struggled to keep your eyes off of his V-line, you know, that visible, muscular line prominently at the base of his abdomen; it was that his V-line that couldn’t keep its eyes off of you—that is, if it was possible that the chiseled intersection of two of his abdominal muscles could have any. Why did he have to look so good? His chest was lean yet broad and sculpted, skin smooth and inviting, each contour begging for touch. And those arms—strong enough to embrace you tightly, yet soft enough, lithe and limber- make you wish you could linger in his warmth forever.

“So…” he said, lifting the paint bottle and giving it a gentle shake. The slosh of the liquid inside echoed in the small space. “I need some help.”

“With… painting yourself red?” you asked, half-teasing yet thoroughly intrigued. 

He chuckled, running a hand through his messy curls, adding to the casual charm he exuded. “Yeah. It’s for the game, and I’m part of the stunt in the student section where we’re supposed to be, like, human canvases or something. Some of the guys and I decided that we’re all gonna spell out Penn on our chests, and I’m the designated one with the letter P. Everyone else bailed last minute, so…” He trailed off, shrugging as if the situation were nothing to worry about.

You raised an eyebrow, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief crossing your face. “And you thought of me because…?” 

“Because you’re creative.” He paused, a flicker of something deeper flashing in his gaze as he locked onto yours. “And patient. And, uh…” The room seemed to shrink around you, his eyes holding a warmth that made your heart race. “I trust you.”

The way he said those words sent a shiver down your spine, leaving your throat dry and your chest tight, as if he was confessing something deeper, unspoken. 

“Okay,” you replied, stepping into the room, the soft click of the door echoing in the still air. “But if I get paint on my clothes, you’re buying me new ones and food at the next football game.” 

A slow grin spread across his face, illuminating his features. He handed you the paint bottle, its synthetic coolness contrasting with the warmth of his palm, and a brush that felt solid in your fingers. “Deal,” he said, his enthusiasm infectious.

For a moment, you found yourself transfixed, taking in the details of him standing there. Up close, the faint sheen of sweat glistened on his skin beneath the soft light of the fluorescent ceiling, and you could see the subtle movements of his well-defined muscles as he shifted, not to mention a couple more beauty marks stippled across the portrait of his chest. The tension in the air was palpable, your fingers twitching lightly around the brush handle.

“So, uh… how do you want to do this?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest, the boggling in your mind, and the rushing in your veins.

“However you want,” he replied, leaning casually against the edge of his desk, his tone playful yet inviting. “Just… cover me. Slather it all over my body. Everywhere.” 

His words hung in the air, thick with unspoken promise, setting the stage for whatever came next.

Everywhere.

Your heart raced as you dipped the brush into the vibrant paint, swirling it around until the bristles were thoroughly saturated with color. Stepping closer, you could feel the air between you thrum with electricity, thick with unspoken tension that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

As the brush first glided across his chest, he inhaled sharply, the sound betraying a mixture of surprise and anticipation. You glanced up to catch his expression, noting how his jaw tightened with each smearing stroke.

“Cold?” you asked, attempting to lighten the charged atmosphere, your voice soft and teasing.

“A little,” he confessed, his tone rough and edged with breathlessness. “But… keep going.”

Encouraged, you continued, dragging the brush slowly across his collarbone as the bristles danced against his skin before trailing down the center of his chest. The paint spread in thick, expressive streaks, each line forming a vivid contrast against his skin as though it were a second layer of himself. With every deliberate stroke, you could see his body respond; his breathing deepened, his chest rising and falling rhythmically in sync with your movements.

“You’re really good at this,” he murmured, his eyes growing heavy-lidded, watching you intently as if you were creating a masterpiece just for him.

“Thanks,” you said, your own voice barely above a whisper. You circled the brush around one of his nipples, watching as it hardened under the chill of the paint. His breath hitched, and for a moment, you thought he might say something—maybe about how you made his nipple so erect and taut—but he stayed silent, his gaze locked on yours.

Your hands trembled slightly as you moved lower, painting over his abs. His stomach tensed at the first touch, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Ticklish?”

“Maybe,” he said, grinning despite himself.

You kept going, alternating between broad strokes and careful detailing. By the time you reached his hips, the tension in the room was unbearable. He hadn’t moved an inch, but you could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint citrus scent of his cologne and the male pheromones mixed with the sharp tang of paint.

“Turn around,” you said softly.

He obeyed without hesitation, presenting his back to you. The muscles rippled beneath his skin as he shifted, and you couldn’t resist tracing the curve of his spine with the tip of the brush. He shuddered, his shoulders stiffening.

“Sorry,” you murmured, though you weren’t entirely sure what you were apologizing for.

“Don’t be,” he said, his voice thick. “It feels… nice. It’s kinda relaxing.”

You painted his shoulders next, working your way down to the small of his back. When your brush grazed the waistband of his shorts, he inhaled sharply, his hands gripping the edge of the desk.

“Almost done,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

Your free hand hovered over his hip, wanting to steady yourself but unsure if you should touch him. Before you could decide, he turned suddenly, catching your wrist, minor, in his rather large grasp.

“Wait,” he said, his grip firm but not unkind.

You froze, staring up at him. His eyes were dark, intense, searching yours for something.

“Is this… weird for you?” he asked, his thumb brushing over your pulse point.

“Weird?” you echoed, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“Yeah. Like… inappropriate or whatever.”

You swallowed hard. “No. It’s… fine.”

He didn’t let go of your wrist, his gaze dropping to your lips. “Good. Because I don’t want to stop.”

Neither did you.

His other hand came up to cup your cheek, his palm, big and warm, against your skin. The paintbrush slipped from your fingers, clattering to the floor, but neither of you noticed.

“Luigi…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but he silenced you with a kiss that surprised you with its intensity. It was soft at first, a gentle brush of his lips against yours, tentative as if he were gauging your reaction, testing the waters of uncharted territory. But as you leaned into him, a rush of warmth blossomed in your chest, his restraint shattered like glass.

Luigi pulled you closer, his hands moving with confidence, sending shivers down your spine. One hand slipped around your waist, firm yet tender, while the other found its way into your hair, fingers weaving through the strands as though anchoring you to him. His mouth opened against yours, coaxing you deeper into the kiss and inviting you to explore the depths of this newfound passion. You couldn’t help but melt against him, surrendering to the moment, every nervous thought slipping away.

His taste was intoxicating, a perfect blend of mint and rich chocolate, with an underlying hint of something uniquely him—a flavor that would linger in your memory long after this moment. You craved more, an insatiable need building within you; you felt as if you could lose yourself in this kiss, in this connection, wanting to delve even deeper into the abyss of desire that had suddenly enveloped you both. The paint on his chest smeared against your shirt as he pressed you against the wall, his body pinning yours. His lips left yours to trail down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot.

You shook your head, your fingers tightening in his curls. “Don’t.”

​​The moment his lips left your neck, a rush of boldness surged through you. His chest was still slick with paint, red streaks sliding down his abdomen as he pulled back slightly, his dark curls damp with sweat, and his breath ragged. You didn’t hesitate.

With a sudden push, you reversed your position, guiding Luigi backward until the back of his knees hit the edge of his twin bed. He laughed, surprised, his lopsided grin spreading wide as he fell onto the mattress, the springs creaking softly beneath him. God, he looked good like this—sprawled out, his skin glistening with streaks of crimson, his eyes dark with desire and amusement, his body raging with excitement.

You climbed onto the bed, straddling him without breaking eye contact. His hands immediately went to your hips, fingers digging lightly into the fabric of your jeans, but you shook your head, placing your hands over his and guiding them up to rest on the pillow above his head. “Stay,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing. His grin softened into something more heated, his lips parting slightly as he obeyed.

Your fingers glided along his arms, leaving delicate trails of vivid red paint on his otherwise smooth skin. A shiver coursed through his body at your touch, and you could see him struggle to catch his breath as you leaned closer, your lips just a whisper away from his ear. “You’re such a mess,” you murmured, the warmth of your breath sending a thrill through him. “Let me fix that.”

You reached for the brush you had set aside earlier, dipping it into the glossy bottle of paint resting beside the bed. The soft bristles glided over his skin as you began to paint, tracing the contours of his collarbone and following the natural line down to the center of his chest. He inhaled sharply, muscles tightening under your careful strokes, the heat of your fingers igniting tension between you. “Are you trying to torture me?” he teased, though the strain in his voice betrayed the pleasure he was losing himself in.

“Maybe,” you said, swirling the brush in slow, sickening circles over his stomach. The paint caught the light, wet and vivid against his skin, and you couldn’t resist leaning down to blow gently on it, watching how his abdominal muscles tightened, just about seizing in response. His hands twitched as if they wanted to move, but he kept them where you’d placed them, his trust in you evident in how he stayed perfectly still.

You set the brush aside, opting instead to use your hands. The cool paint squelched between your fingers as you smoothed it over his shoulders and arms. His biceps flexed under your palms, and you could feel the tension coiled in his body, the way he held himself back. It only made you want to push him further and subdue him with your power.

Leaning down, you pressed your lips to the hollow of his throat, tasting the faint saltiness of his skin mingling with the sharp tang of the paint. His pulse raced beneath your mouth, and you smiled against him, dragging your lips lower, following the trail of red you’d applied paint to. Your hands slid up his chest, the paint making your movements slick and deliberate, and when your thumb brushed over one of his nipples, he let out a quiet groan.

“You’re killing me,” Luigi muttered, his voice rough.

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, your lips curving into a smirk. “Good.” Reaching for the bottle of paint again, you dipped two fingers into the thick liquid, letting it drip slowly down his sternum. He watched, spellbound and stunned, as you followed the droplets with your tongue. The taste was strange but not unpleasant, and the sensation was clearly driving him crazy.

His hips bucked slightly beneath you, and you felt the evidence of his arousal pressing against you through his shorts. A thrill shot through you at the realization, but you weren’t ready to give him what he wanted just yet. Instead, you sat back, admiring your work—his chest and torso now coated in red, the paint clinging to every ridge and dip of muscle. Your hands rested on his thighs, shifting closer so you could lean over him, your faces inches apart.

“How’s that for school spirit?” you asked, your tone teasing but your eyes serious as they searched his.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Perfect,” he said, his hands moving from the pillow to cradle your face. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, and you realized too late that the paint had transferred to your skin. “But I think you missed a spot.”

Before you could react, he flipped you onto your back, his body covering yours as he kissed you deeply. The paint on his chest pressed against your shirt, soaking through the fabric and cooling against your skin. His hands roamed over your body, leaving streaks of red wherever they touched, and when he pulled back, his eyes were wild with hunger.

“Now,” he said, his voice a low growl, “it’s my turn.” He reached for the brush, dipping it into the pot with deliberate slowness before trailing it down the side of your neck. The bristles tickled, the paint cool and wet, and you couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through you.

“Lu,” you breathed, unable to let out the remaining syllables of his name, your hands gripping his shoulders as he continued to paint you, his movements slow and deliberate.

“Hold still,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as he worked, his breath hot and uneven. “Trust me.”

And you did.

Luigi’s brush paused mid-stroke, hovering just above the dip of your collarbone. His eyes met yours, dark and searching, as if he was trying to read the unspoken words lingering between you. The air between you felt charged, heavy with something neither of you had dared name—until now.

“I think…” he started, his voice low and hesitant. The playful edge from before was replaced with something more profound, deeper, and more vulnerable. His fingers tightened slightly around the brush, the paint dripping onto his hand. “I think I’ve been waiting for this. For you.”

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking into your skin like the red paint he’d been so carefully applying. You could feel the warmth of his body, the way his chest rose and fell in time with yours. His free hand reached up, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lips.

“Open your mouth,” he murmured, his tone soft but commanding. You hesitated for a split second, but the intensity in his eyes made it impossible to refuse. Slowly, you parted your lips, and he dipped the brush into the paint again, swirling it gently across the curve of your bottom lip.

The sensation was remarkable, both cool and electric. The bristles teasing your sensitive skin as he worked with precision made your stomach flutter. He leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours as he focused on the task, his face just inches from yours.

“Perfect,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he pulled the brush away, leaving your lips a deep, bold, vivid red. His eyes lingered on them for a moment, his gaze almost reverent, before he finally looked up at you again.

And then, without warning, he closed the distance between you, his mouth crashing against yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was raw, desperate, and full of all the things he hadn’t said yet. His hand slid into your hair, tilting your head back as his tongue swept across your painted lips, the taste of the paint mixing with the heat of his kiss.

You melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, the paint on your fingers smearing against his skin as you gripped him tightly. His other hand trailed down your side, leaving a streak of red in its wake, before settling on your hip, pulling you even closer.

When he finally broke the kiss, you were both breathless. Your lips were still tingling, red hot, and burning like fire from the intensity of the kiss. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, as he tried to steady his breathing.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “I just… I didn’t know how to tell you... how to ask for this. For you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the vulnerability in his voice making something inside you ache. You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch.

“Luigi…” you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

“Don’t,” he said softly, his eyes opening to meet yours. “Don’t say anything. Just… let me have this. Let me have you. Even if it’s just for now.”

There was a plea in his voice, a fear of rejection that made your chest tighten. You could discern how he was holding his breath, waiting for your response; his body tensed so that he was ready to pull away if you hesitated.

But you didn’t hesitate.

Instead, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a soft, lingering kiss that spoke more than words ever could. His breath hitched, and then he was kissing you again, his hands roaming over your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

The paint between you became a blur, streaks of red mixing with the heat of your movements as you lost yourselves in each other. His fingers trailed down your back, leaving a trail of paint that felt like fire against your skin. You could feel his trembling, the intensity of his emotions spilling over with every touch, every kiss.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, his voice breaking with emotion. “I don’t think you even realize it.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you pulled him closer, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. The room around you faded away, leaving nothing but the two of you, the sound of your breathing, and the feel of his body pressed against yours.

He broke the kiss again, his hands sliding down to grip your hips as he looked at you, his eyes dark with need. “Tell me you want this,” he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me you want me.”

The vulnerability in his voice tore at something inside you, and you cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I want you,” you longed for him, your voice steady despite the thunderstorm of emotions, a natural disaster of your own aches and needs gyrating inside you. “I’ve wanted you for longer than I care to admit.”

A slow, lopsided grin spread across his face, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was both sweet and possessive. “Good,” he murmured against your lips. “Because I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

His hands slid down to the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing against your skin as he hesitated for the present. His eyes discovered yours in a silent question. You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as he slowly lifted the fabric of your top over your head. His eyes traveled over your figure with a hunger that made your heart race.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his hands trailing up your sides, leaving streaks of red paint in their wake. “So fucking perfect.”

You reached for him, your fingers brushing against the paint on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart racing beneath your touch. “So are you,” you murmured, your voice soft but full of emotion.

He let out a shaky breath, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for the button of your jeans, his eyes never leaving yours. “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice rough with need. “I don’t want to rush you. I just… I need you.”

You nodded, your hands sliding into his hair as you pulled him in for another kiss, your lips moving against his in a way that left no room for doubt. “I need you too,” you whispered against his lips. “More than anything.”

His fingers fumbled with the button, and his movements were hurried but gentle as he pushed your pants down your hips, his hands shaking slightly as he touched you. You could feel how he was holding back and moving heaven and earth to keep himself in control, having the decently respectable audacity for a hot-blooded young man, but the look in his eyes told you he was close to losing it.

“Luigi,” you breathed, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pressed yourself against him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “Please.”

That was all it took. Luigi let out a low groan, his hands tightening around your hips as he pulled you closer, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was nothing short of desperate. The world around you disappeared, leaving nothing but the two of you, the panting of your inhales and exhales, and the feel of his body pressed against yours.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with need as he looked at you, his hands trembling slightly as he touched you. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “I don’t think I ever will.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you looked into his eyes. “I’m yours,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “All of me.”

He let out a shaky breath, his hands tightening around your hips as he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was both sweet and possessive. “And I’m yours,” he murmured against your lips. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

The room was a blur of red and heat, the air thick with the scent of paint and citrus, mingling with the sound of your racing hearts. Luigi’s hands were still on your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin as if he couldn’t bear to let go. His lips were still against yours, but the urgency had softened, replaced by a lingering need that neither of you seemed ready to break.

But reality was creeping in, insistent and unyielding—the game. The football game was starting soon, and you both knew it. You pulled back just enough to look at him, your breath mingling with his as you spoke, your voice trembling slightly. “Luigi… the game.”

He groaned, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as if he could allow the universe and everything consisting of it to stop spinning for just a little longer. “I know,” he whispered, his voice strained. “I know, but…”

His hands glided up your sides, leaving vivid streaks of crimson paint in their wake. Each touch ignited a shiver that danced along your skin. The sensation was electric, a pulse of warmth contrasting against the coolness of the paint, flooding your senses with intensity. “Just a little longer,” he murmured, his lips grazing yours once more, soft and filled with yearning. “Please.”

You yearned to say yes, every fiber of your humane being just aching to submit to the moment. Yet the rational part of your mind screamed in protest, a reminder of the ticking clock, of the urgency for him to be ready and for you to be too. With a soft sigh, your fingers slid up his chest, the paint still slightly tacky under your touch, a reminder of the chaos of creativity that surrounded you both. “We have to finish painting you,” you whispered, your voice barely cutting through the charged air, hushed but firm. “And we have to clean up.”

He let out a low, frustrated growl, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he stepped back slightly, his hands reluctantly leaving your body as he reached for the brush again. Though dark and intense, his eyes never left yours, filled with a hunger that made your stomach flip.

You took the brush from him, your fingers brushing against his in a way that sent a jolt of electricity through both of you. You could feel the tension between you, thick and unrelenting, but you forced yourself to focus. Get this done. Get him ready.

You dipped the brush into the paint, the bright red liquid glistening in the dim light of the room. You started on his chest, sweeping the brush over his skin in long, even strokes. His skin was warm under your touch, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers. You tried to keep your movements brisk and efficient, but it was hard when he stood so close, his breath hitching every time the brush touched his skin.

“You’re killing me,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. His hands were clenched at his sides, the muscles in his arms tensing as he fought the urge to reach for you.

“I’m trying to finish,” you replied, your voice trembling despite your efforts to sound firm. You moved the brush lower, painting over his abs, the muscles twitching under your touch. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and it was intoxicating.

His breath hitched again, and you saw his eyes dark with need. “You’re not making this easy,” he said, his voice rough.

“Neither are you,” you shot back, your voice shaky. You struggled to focus, and your desire made it hard to think straight. You just wanted to drop the brush and kiss him again, to feel his hands on your body, to lose yourself in him completely.

But you couldn’t. You had to finish, and you still had to return home to get yourself ready. 

You moved the brush lower still, painting over his hips. The muscles in his thighs tensed as he fought to stay still. You could see the effort it was taking him: his jaw clenched, his hands trembling at his sides.

“Almost done,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You were both on edge, the tension between you so thick it was almost suffocating.

“Good,” he muttered, his voice strained. “Because I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

You could feel the heat of his gaze on you as you finished painting him, the brush moving slower than it should have as you tried to prolong the moment. But eventually, it was done. You stepped back slightly, your eyes scanning his body to ensure you hadn’t missed any spots.

“You’re all done,” you said, your voice trembling despite your efforts to sound calm.

He let out a shaky breath, his hands finally moving, reaching for you. “Now you,” he said, his voice rough with need.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed the brush from your hand, dipping it into the paint before turning it on you. He started on your chest, the brush gliding over your skin in slow, deliberate strokes. You gasped at the sensation, the paint's coolness contrasting with his touch's heat.

“Lui…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Shhh,” he murmured, his eyes dark with desire as he continued painting you. His touch was gentle but firm, the brush moving over your skin in a way that made your whole body tremble.

You could feel your resolve crumbling. The need to touch and feel him against you overwhelmed you. You reached for him, your fingers brushing against his chest, the paint still slightly tacky under your touch.

He let out a low groan, his hands tightening on the brush as he fought to stay in control. “You’re making this really hard,” he muttered, his voice strained.

“Good,” you whispered, your voice trembling. You leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a sweet, desperate kiss.

He let out a low growl, his hands dropping the brush as he pulled you closer, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was nothing short of primal. The world around you disappeared, leaving nothing but the two of you, the sound of your breathing, and the feel of his body pressed against yours.

“We’re going to be so late,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling despite your efforts to sound firm.

“I don’t care,” he replied, his voice rough with need. His hands were everywhere, touching you, caressing you, leaving streaks of red paint in their wake.

You could feel yourself giving in, your body responding to his touch in ways that made it hard to think and breathe. “Lu…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

His lips brushed against yours again, soft and pleading. “Just a little longer,” he murmured, his voice filled with need. “Please.”

You hesitated, the rational part of your brain screaming at you to stop, pull away, and get ready for the game. But the look in his eyes, the way his hands were trembling as he touched you, the way his body was pressed against yours… it was too much.

“Just a little longer,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you gave in, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that was nothing short of desperate.

His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that sent sparks of heat through your body. You could feel the paint smearing between you, but you didn’t care. 

All you cared about was him, how he felt against you, and how he made you think.

If you were caught red-handed, at this instant, for what you and he brought about, so be it.

After all, it can’t be considered wrong if it feels right.

[earlysunshines]

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.

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 cabin confessions : percy jackson

▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

y/n loves gushing about Percy to her siblings, Percy accidentally finds out about this and he's absolutely obsessed with it.

author: i'll never get tired of cabin ten reader x percy, probs will write more abt them because ugh i just love them, also mentions of marriage!!

She sits on her bed, a brush in her hand as she gently runs it through the little girl's hair, her touch tender and soothing, pouring care into each stroke through the knots.

Her siblings sit in a circle around her on the floor, listening to her and hanging onto her every word as she recalls the time she was just friends with Percy.

"How come you two started dating?" Lacy asks, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

They already know how the story goes, they have heard about it at least twice now, but every time they look as interested on it as if it was their first time hearing about it.

"We were friends for a long time. I always thought that's all we would ever be." She starts, settling down the brush. "Percy was just... you know, Percy. All charming and brave and, well— completely clueless about my crush on him."

One of them giggles. "You had a crush on him first? wasn't he the one that asked you out?"

"Yes, he was, but it took him long enough to do it." she replies, smiling fondly at the memory as she starts to braid her sister's hair. "We kissed first, can you believe it? and even after that, Percy was still a nervous wreck when he asked me out. It was like he had forgotten how to talk and kept stumbling over his words, I honestly thought he was choking at some point."

The group erupts into laughter.

"And did you say yes right away?" Another sister pipes up, leaning forward with anticipation.

"I don't think he would've survived if I didn’t." She grins, her fingers working on the braid. "He was so sweet, he took me out for a picnic by the lake and he was honestly... just so perfect. I couldn't say no to him."

One of her brothers smirks, leaning back. "I would've made him work harder for it."

"He's worth it. He's always worth it." a chorus of 'awws' fill the room just as she's finished with her Lily's braid. "Okay, who's next?"

Lily grins at her and goes to sit down with the rest of the siblings, happy with her new braid, and the next sister in line takes her place on the bed while y/n grabs the brush again.

She knows they're not done with their questions. "And how did you two kiss for the first time?"

Beaming at the question, she tells the whole story again and again, going through the details while keeping everyone's hair knotless and braided.

Percy has always been amused by y/n's relationship with her siblings. Besides Tyson, he doesn't have anyone else to share a cabin with, so he doesn’t really get too many bonding opportunities as she does. She always tells him about the endless afternoons of talking, the movie nights, the blanket forts, and he can't help but feel just the tiniest bit of envy as he listens.

Right now, Tyson isn't even around because he's too busy to come back to camp this summer. So even if Percy's trying hard to respect his girlfriend's quality time with her siblings this afternoon, he ends up missing her too much.

Which leads him here, finally giving up on spending time by himself, he heads towards cabin 10, hoping y/n will let him crash her sleepover because he just needs to see her.

However, just when he's about to knock on the wooden door, he notices it's slightly cracked open. Laughter spills out, and he can even pick up her laugh among the others.

He doesn’t mean to pry, really, but it's not his fault that just when he's about to announce himself, he hears one of her little sisters asking. "And do you think you'll marry him?"

Percy stops right on his track, something just tells him they're talking about him. His suspicions only get confirmed when y/n is the one replying to the question. "Well, we're still young. But I can't picture myself marrying anyone else, you know?"

Gasps and excited chatter fill the room. Some of them beg for her to be flower girls at the wedding, while she tries, and fails, to get them to quiet down.

Percy's frozen in his spot. His heart skips a beat or two at her words. He leans against the doorframe, unable to stop the smile creeping across his face.

"Do you think he wants to marry you, too?" another one asks when the room finally falls silent again.

He does. Percy wants to make his presence known just to answer the question himself.

y/n chuckles softly "Well that's something that you'd have to ask him. But I sure hope so."

"You should propose to him instead." one suggests, they all break into a fit of giggles.

"Maybe I should. Do you reckon he'd like that?" She asks playfully.

Another sibling chimes in "He'd probably faint right on the spot."

Percy can't help himself anymore. Before he can think it through, his knuckles softly knock on the door. Everyone immediately falls silent, turning to look at the doorway, where he's shyly standing.

y/n's smile grows bigger once she looks up and finds him there. "Percy!"

"hope i'm not interrupting anything." he steps in, trying to keep his cool even though his heart is racing.

The Aphrodite kids exchange mischievous looks, some covering their mouths to hide their giggles. Lacy's the one to pipe up. "We were just talking about you!"

"Oh, really?" Percy has to act as if he didn’t know that already, raising his eyebrows as he glances at y/n, her cheeks are already tinted a pretty shade of pink. "Good things, I hope?"

"Of course" she recovers quickly, making some space for him to sit beside her on the bed. "What are you doing here?"

Percy carefully steps around the circle of Aphrodite kids on the floor and plops down beside her. "Just missed you." He replies simply, already reaching for her hand.

Her siblings immediately protest. "Don't distract her! it's her turn to braid."

She laughs, setting the brush down and instead taking Percy's hand, her delicate fingers lacing with his. "Don't worry, I'll still braid everyone's hair. Percy's just here to join the fun."

He chuckles, playfully shrugging. "I've always wanted to learn how to braid, I guess"

Her siblings break into laughter, and y/n rolls her eyes affectionately. That's how Percy ends up being instructed by a bunch of Aphrodite children on how to make a perfect braid while he listens to their chatter, laughing as they share stories with him.

Every now and then, y/n sneaks a glance at him, her eyes soft with affection and he remembers what he overheard. He will never forget it. But everytime she looks at him, he knows she wasn't lying just by the love he's able to see in her eyes.

Later, when everyone is happy with their braids and every story they could think about has been told, they start to drift away to their different sides of the cabin and Percy finds his perfect opportunity to mention what he overheard. He can't keep it to himself any longer.

"For the record." He starts, tugging her closer to him. "I can't picture myself marrying anyone else either."

Her breath catches and her face turns crimson. She immediately hides her face against his chest. "You weren't supposed to hear that!"

Percy laughs, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a soft kiss against her temple. "Just let me take care of the proposal, yeah?"

She's utterly embarrased, but she finally laughs, swatting his chest lightly as she mumbles. "Deal"

They settle back into each other’s arms, the warmth of the moment lingering between them as they think about how lucky they are to have each other. Next time, when her siblings gather around her bed asking questions, she’ll have some news to share with them.

[utterlyazriel]

featherlight touch

a/n: and what if i said surprise smut. what then :) my soft launch of the fact i can and do write smut... <3 word count: easy peasy barely over 1k-squeezy synopsis: Given particular knowledge, you try something new. wing!fic

Your knees sink into the black satin sheets of Azriel’s bed and you sigh contently.

Across the room at the window, the curtain is haphazardly drawn, letting in a curious ray of moonlight. A dim glow lights the room.

You’re thankful for it now—the moonlight allowing you to drink in the sight beneath you with a ravenous gaze. Thighs straddling across his hips, you take in Azriel under you with, what can only be described as, ardent hunger.

But, well, it’s not often enough you get to be on top, after all.

Azriel’s wings splay out on the bed, gloriously on display. His scarred hands rest easily on your waist. His hazel eyes, narrowed in a suspicious way, are focused entirely on you. He, as always, looks devastatingly handsome.

“I’m not sure if I like the look of that look.” He comments slyly, shifting his head to flick a stray curl back from his eyes.

His hands on your waist give a gentle squeeze, as if to reassure you that he’s only teasing. His shadows lurk, traversing the rumpled bedsheets with a lazy designation, unbothered.

“Oh, hush,” you respond. “As if I haven’t been on the receiving end of this before.”

At the mere mention of your reversed positions, Azriel grins, even as a hot glow takes to his cheeks. The dusty rose colour sets a warm spark off in your chest and the heat wastes no time heading south, between your thighs.

Your relationship with Azriel is of the newer side, despite how long you've actually known each other. Long time friends, eventually, finally turned lovers.

But these new steps forward together, getting to know each other in an entirely new way—it's still enough to make Azriel fluster. Centuries old he is but a bashful shyness still remains, if only you can coax it out.

Bringing you back to the moment, Azriel squeezes your waist again, one hand shifting across your skin, his thumb dipping closer to your waistband.

“I don’t know what you mean,” He says, even as his satisfied smile gives him away. He watches closely as you pluck up his large hand and move it back to your waist, the message clear. He's not in charge tonight.

“Y’know,” you say, voice softer suddenly.

You haven’t let go on his hand. As you speak, you let your fingers travel down his veined and chiseled forearm slowly. “I learnt something today. From Feyre.”

Azriel watches you intently, the very feel of your skin across his enough to make him shudder in muted pleasure. No one touches him like you do.

Goosebumps break out along his arm as your hand reaches his bulging bicep and you drag your nails across it lightly.

“Is that so?”

Despite all his body betrays him, Azriel is a master at keeping his face and voice cool and calm. You smile at the sight of it, goaded on by his unwavering voice, and let your hand linger, resting on his collarbone.

“What did she tell you?” Azriel asks, his dark brows raising.

Purposefully, you shift your hips an inch, grinding against his own. Azriel barely manages to hide the grunt it pulls from him, his fingers flexing against your waist as if he’s resisting something more.

“She told me,” You say, dragging out the words, sultry and low.

Your hand begins to move, tracing the line of his defined chest and feeling it heave slightly beneath your touch. Tantalisingly slow, you let it trail down, skimming across his toned stomach where you pause.

“That if I ask you nicely, there’s a certain spot—”

Your teasing, trailing touch moves sideways, dipping down his ribcage and nearing his wings. They rustle against the sheets, a minuscule motion, that you hope is in what’s anticipation.

If what Feyre said is true...

Moving slow, so there’s time for him to interrupt you, you reach down and hover your hand over the delicate membrane of his wings.

Intentions clear, your eyes dart to Azriel’s to check.

Pupils blow wide, the ring of hazel you love so much barely visible, Azriel looks debauched before you've even begun. His hands are stilled on your waist and his cheeks are that same glowing scarlet. After a beat it becomes clear he’s waiting, not stopping you.

Grinning, you take your cue.

Brushing your fingers gently across a section of his wings, the reaction is instantaneous.

Azriel shudders, his whole body shivering as a strangled breath passes through his clenched jaw, his eyes fluttering closed. The hands on your waist constrict, tightening his grip, and beneath you his hips shift up, into you.

The shape of him, pulsating and hot, suddenly feels much firmer than before.

“She’s—right.” The words come out in two stilted breaths, Azriel’s chest rising and falling a little faster now as he fights to compose himself. His eyes open, heavier lidded than they were a moment ago. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

"Is she?" Your voice is lilted in mock uncertainty, given away by your mischievous grin. "I think I better check again."

This time, instead of a small brush, you try something bolder. Two fingers on either side of a prominent vein, you draw a delicate stripe up his wing.

Azriel whines— a soft, pitiful noise that leaks out through his clenched teeth. It melts into a soft groan as his whole body shifts, his hips shoving up, seemingly out of his control. His hands pull you down at the time, dragging you forward against his hardness.

Something fiercely hot simmers in your gut, both at the friction and his glorious reaction. He's been fucking holding out on you.

"I don't know, I'm still not sure..." You continue, far too delighted to abuse your newfound knowledge.

Stroking another soft line up his wing, this time you're rewarded with a needy whimper. His chest arches up, his head thrown back lightly—nearly writhing in pleasure from just a few touches.

"Oh, Az," You murmur, half consoling and half wicked. His screwed up eyes take a moment to find yours and you relish the panting of his chest. The rosiness of his cheeks has spread, crawling down his neck and beginning along his toned chest.

"This your plan?" He says, but it's nowhere near that unwavering voice from earlier, raspy and on the way to ruined. "To—" He takes a sharp inhale as your nail scrapes the membrane again. "—to tease me all night?"

You're impressed he's got the words out, given the sight of him. His hair looks messier now. Paired with his heaving chest and eyes bright with lust, he looks downright sinful.

"Doesn't sound too bad a plan to me." You say, letting your hips draw forward, then back, the smallest rocking motion against him.

Azriel hisses, his large, scarred hands threatening to bruise your hips with how tight they grip them. He makes no attempt to stop you though.

"What do you think?"

You purposefully retract your hand, hovering it over his wing, and watch his face. Wings are very personal to Fae and Azriel letting you touch his own, in such an intimate way, was not lost on you.

You don't want to overstep, even if you do desperately want to see what happens if you stroke once, twice, three times in a row. Gods do you want to watch him fall apart beneath you, whimpering and whining through it all.

"I think you're a temptress," Azriel says, breathless. His eyes, heavy with desire, give away his answer. A grin spreads across your face, devious and enamoured all at once.

"A temptress you'll let have her way with you?"

"Depen—ah," His voice shudders into another whimper as you touch your fingertip back to his velvety wing, drawing a small circle.

Eyes crushing closed, it takes another moment for him to catch his breath before he speaks again, breath ragged. "Mother above..."

His wing, the one you've been taunting, rustles against the bed. It lifts up an inch before flapping down in an almost impatient motion. Like a cat, wagging its tail. Azriel wets his lips again, their skin cherried and plush.

"Alright," He says, faux begrudgingly. His eagerness is given away by another impatient rustle of his wing and the throbbing length of him, pressing firmly up against you.

His gives your waist another squeeze and then lets go, letting his arms fall lax to his side. Trusting you completely.

"Have your way with me."

[pockypuck]

"No--you--what have you done?!" they gasp, clutching the table like a lifeline.

I shake my head a little, wiping my mouth of the last few drops and giving an incredulous grimace. "A celestial shot, from the taste of it." Ooh, tingly.

"You mixed them," they say, anguished enough to state the obvious.

I raise my eyebrows, flexing my fingers a little as the capillaries start to throb with my quickening pulse. "Of course I did. You offered me both, and then added a false dichotomy."

"False--what?"

"False dichotomy. Presenting two options as the only choices when there are others available."

"I know what a--do--do you have any idea what you've begun?!" They’re sweating quite profusely for an extraplanar being, the collar of their shirt losing its starch and their silvery hair dampening against their brow.

I shrug. "Something interesting, from your reaction. I expect I'll find out shortly." Oh yeah, very shortly. I can already feel my eyes starting to water and sharpen at the same time. "At least I won't die, though."

"Y--" They go even paler, somehow, staring at me with wide eyes and such distress that the air around them is vibrating. I grin at them with lots of teeth.

"Yeah, figured on that. Celestial essence doesn't mix with human life too well, does it? Too rigidly aligned, one way or another. Most people's systems can't handle it. They run hot for a few months, get all those cool powers, then burn out like an overclocked CPU. Nice try, though." I lick my lips, trying to identify the flavor left behind. Sea salt and chocolate from the mocha, I figure, and something that I can only describe as spite. What I get for mixing it in a Starbucks cup, I guess.

They're still stuttering, eyes now tracing along the outline of my shoulders as if watching for weapons. "But--how did--?"

"How did I know to mix them?" It's not a guess. I'm starting to feel the questions on my skin before they ask them. "Simple. They're the same thing."

Their face twists in revulsion. Heh, they didn't like that.

"Mostly," I amend. "Demons are just angels with defiance mixed in, after all. The base is the same. But mixing god-ordained defiance--" they twitch hard "--with absolute obedience was either going to explode immediately or cancel each other out." I sit back and cross my arms, feeling the proteins in my muscles start to fold and twist into energy the likes of which the world hadn’t seen in millennia. "So I tested it."

"This is--you can't," they rasp, but not as if they believe it. No, it sounds as though their belief is very fragile right now. "You can't be."

"I mean, it turns out that I very much can." I spread my arms, my fingers. It takes very little effort to add a few, subtract them, change them to claws, wrap air and fire and time around them. I keep it short; there are people in this cafe, even if they can't notice us right now. "And really, I should thank you. If you hadn't given me both at once, I couldn't have pulled it off. So this," I gesture to all of me, the shifting skin and brightening eyes and power beginning to radiate in waves, "is all your fault."

They inhale with a shudder, and then their eyes narrow. "Then you are my--my responsibility, and I will--"

"I don't think so," I say sharply, my hand clenching. The energy gathering at their fingertips cuts off as if it's never been. They're pallid again. "See, you might be able to hop planes all you want, but this is my home. Some fancy potion can't change that. God can't change that, if He even wants to. And now you're in my home, and you're no longer the biggest thing here." I stand up, and they're not visible but I can feel them at my back, long feathered wings with bones like steel and little clawed tips flexing and shivering with barely-contained power. "So you can get the fuck out of my home with your mind games and your holy war. And if you come back--if any of you come back--I will know, and I will make you regret it."

It's so easy. I reach for their pale, panicked face, and they're gone. Not sure where, but it's not like I care about the details right now.

I sigh, look around, and settle my power back beneath my skin with effort. The people around me continue to get their coffee and croissants without any indication that something extraordinary has happened.

That's good. Nephilim don't have the best reputations. I can change that, though. I can make our home a better place, and Heaven and Hell had better watch their step.

"In the first vial there is a pure demonic essence, and in the second there is pure angelic essence-" Without letting them finish, you mix both vials and drink the mixture.

[destinationtoast]

Hello! I keep hearing that fandom culture has changed, and there are less comments now than there were years ago. Have you noticed this in your analysis? Is the percentage of comments being left today lower than before?

Hey! Thanks for the question -- it prompted me to start collecting data about comments (after procrastinating on it for a while, because I had to write new code to gather comment data). I've also seen other discussions from folks also thinking about how to do this kind of analysis (like in the fandom data projects community) -- hopefully we'll end up with multiple people attacking this from different angles and getting a variety of data about comments!

I'll give a sneak preview that partially addresses your question and contains some good news. If we look at the fraction of AO3 works that get at least one comment (focusing just on one-shots for now), I think things have gotten better over the past decade on AO3*:

In other words, it tentatively looks like more works were getting at least one comment in 2024 than in 2014 (for a variety of time periods). One caveat, though -- if a bunch of works with no comments got deleted in the interim, there will be survivor bias here. I'll try to look into that possibility later. Another caveat: this is based on only like ~100 randomly selected works from each year -- this may all change with more data!

Another interesting tidbit: I still see some of the 2014 works getting comments. In fact, ~30% of works have gotten new comments over 5 years after they were posted, and it looks like ~10% of one-shots posted back in Mar 2014 got a new comment in 10 years later, in 2024.

I'm still doing other analyses; there may be other factors that better match with the discourse around how comment culture has changed. It could be that comment activity peters out faster now than it did back then, for instance. Or the total number of comments left on the popular works is less now than it was back then (though my current methods may not be able to capture that). Edit thanks to quick eagle-eyed readers: it's likely that some of what people are thinking about is ratio of comments to hits -- that is hard to compare in 2014 to 2024, because we don't know which hits came from which years. But I am working on some analyses along those lines. :)

If you have other hypotheses about what's changed in commenting culture, feel free to share! I'll look into what I can.

Some methodology notes:

*I've been tackling this by comparing AO3 one-shots posted in early 2014 to one-shots posted in 2024, and comparing activity in the days/weeks/months immediately after the works were posted. (To start with, I'm only scraping the first page of comments for each work -- meaning the first 20 comment threads -- so there are lots of comments I'm potentially missing for the really popular works. But for many works, this captures all the comments, and I think it may be sufficient for a lot of the analyses I am interested in.)

I'm choosing to focus on 2014 vs. 2024 because 2024 is close to now (but it's been long enough for comments to have settled down a bit), and 2014 was well after AO3 was established (thus it was already a pretty lively time on AO3). I don't want to collect data about every single year because it's too time intensive/too hard on AO3's servers. But if people think that I should be looking at different years, I'm interested in feedback.

Because it's only been ~10 months since March 2024, I am limiting a lot of my analyses to only look at commenting activity the first ~10 months after works were posted in both cases.

[lostintransist]

Can't Catch Me | A König One-Shot

König runs into a spot of trouble with the mob. But wouldn't you know it, his favorite barista is heading home and is willing to play along.

For @backseatsoldier *hugs, kisses, and hopefully König spends the night*

CW: 18+ Minors do not interact, kissing, ass smacking, suggestive themes

You stretched your neck as you walked the final stretch toward home. Two jobs, an early morning barista shift followed by a break, and then a half shift at a call center always left you drained. But between the two schedules, you had time to do two classes a day or settle at the school library and bust out homework before it was due. No matter the time the sun had always hidden itself away before you could leave the call center.

The shitty and small bathtub in your flat and a bath bomb someone had given you for Christmas two years back called your name. The well of the tub was so thin that water got trapped behind you as you emptied it. You forgot that until you went to stand up and a flood of water rushes over your legs and toes.

You are flung, quite literally, from your thoughts when you meet a wall nose first. Rubbing your nose you step back and look up, and up, and up. Oh! You know this wall! He comes by your coffee shop regularly enough and always gives K as his name.

“Oh! Iced chai with two espresso, sorry about that. I should have been watching where I was going.”

The tall, broad man glances behind him. His face is hidden by a surgical mask, as always. When he glances back to you a spark of something, something concerning, lights in his eyes.

“You know me, ja?” At your confused nod he continues, “How much I pay you pretend we together?”

Blinking rapidly is your only response before your mouth forms a “wha” shape.

“Five hundred enough?”

“Uh-u-sure?”

He rips the mask off, shoving it deep in his pocket before grabbing your right hand in his left and circling a long arm around you, caging you between the combined length of your arms.

“How was work love?”

He stares down at you expectantly. The sound of pounding feet reaches your ears, the volume rising with each step.

“Honestly love? It was exhausting.”

His eyes get wider the closer the footsteps get. You wrench the hat off your head, ignoring the hat hair you undoubtedly have. Slapping it down over his massive skull you have never been more thankful for what your mother always complained of as your ‘overly large, vagina-tearing noggin’. It’s a bit of a tight fit but the layer of change helps his shoulders relax a fraction.

“What made it so bad?”

You start walking as he continues the charade, tugging him along despite his clear resistance.

“So, you know how my boss is a complete asshole right?” He grunts and you continue, “Well he just hired his daughter to be the office manager, which first off is clearly a nepo choice but I’m just a part-time employee what the hell can I say about it?”

Two men dressed all in black and guns on their hips race past the two of you with barely a glance.

“Not much,” he agrees, ear tipped toward the retreating footsteps. “How much to go to your apartment until I can get a ride here?”

“Your name.”

He looks down at you, brows pinched together under the brim of your borrowed hat.

“König.”

“Thank you, König. Yes, you can come and hang out at my apartment until you get your ride scheduled.”

The stress from his shoulders and the pinched look on his face disappeared.

“Now tell me more, I thought you worked at the coffee shop.” He falls into step with you now, slower shorter steps keeping up with your slightly elongated to accommodate for him.

“I do, I work the early shift at the café and then have a few hours off for school and homework before I do my late-night job so I can make rent.” Bumping his thigh with your hip you continue, “What do you do other than running from gangsters?”

“Mobsters,” he countered, “Blow stuff up, mostly.”

“Mmm. Quite impressive.”

The sound of footsteps, speeding back toward you sent both your hackles up.

König leaned down into your ear, “How much to kiss you?”

Mind can’t keep up with all these jumps and you spit out the first number word you can think of.

“Hundred!”

He lets out a small laugh, pulling you tighter to him and moving you both forward as he directs your steps closer to the wall. Your back hits the wall as the men come into view. König’s lips are on your before you can think of much else.

Could a brain give a blue screen of death? That’s the only way you can describe the complete lack of function your brain produces when his lips meet yours. Movement happens by need alone and that need has you pulling him closer, fingers digging into the flesh at his waist as you lick the seam of his lips. His forearm lands next to your head as his knees buckle slightly.

The footsteps slow as they pass you but the wanton, and frankly, too graphic to be outside of a bedroom or a porno sounds shoot erupts out of you, sending them scurrying away. Some masculine cologne sweeps into your brain, killing off the last of your brain cells. You would climb him like a tree given half a chance.

“Six hundred,” he whispers as he pulls back slightly.

Eyes unfocused, you blindly reach out and grab him by the collar. Dragging him back to your lips you catch his lower lip between your teeth, pulling gently as you lean away. The tiniest sound escapes from deep in his throat, a spear thrown that landed directly in your needy bits.

“Seven hundred,” you breathed on his lips.

Breaths mingling König watches you watch him. The condensation of his breath warms and cools your face.

“Those kisses are worth a hundred a piece,” he whispers as if worship is his primary language.

Movement from the edge of your vision alerts you to the mob’s incoming presence.

“Pick me up, keep pretending. I can direct you to my apartment,” an edge of panic creeps into your voice as you force your eyes to not move from his.

He does as you command, hands so wide they nearly span the width of your thighs as he lifts you, knees hugging his waist and ankles locking behind his back.

The giggle that escapes you is real. You were too solid for nearly any other man to hoist you like this. He settles both arms under your butt, holding you close. Flopping onto his shoulders, kissing up and down his neck you count the doorways until you see the one before yours and bite gently on König’s earlobe. He pulls you tighter when you start to murmur.

“This next door is mine. They are still following but looking way less suspiciously at us. Smack my ass.”

König didn’t need to be told twice. The crack of his large hand across your backside made the men following flinch and turn away, confident now that the man they had followed half a block was not the person they were looking for.

You didn’t mean to, but your jaw tightened, pinching his earlobe tighter as you whine into his ear. He let out a groan that would haunt your masturbation sessions until you reached death, dildo in hand.

Letting go of his ear you rest back on his shoulder. He rubs out the sting of his smack; your inner walls clench at the care.

“First door is unlocked. Head to the top floor. I’m in six.”

He isn’t breathing hard when he tops the several flights of stairs, even despite the additional weight of your body.

When he lets you down it is with a slide down the length of his body, a slight bulge at his zipper confirms you weren’t the only one affected by the shared kisses. You spin around, focusing diligently on the task of unlocking the door. Throwing the door wide you step in and gesture to the space.

“Get comfortable, call your ride. I need to change and get ready for bed. I have to be awake in five hours for work,” you don’t turn as you stalk further into your small apartment.

Shutting the bedroom door you cover your mouth with both hands as you force the deepest breaths you can manage through your nose. After the tenth deep breath, you are calm enough to change. Your long pants and ugliest hoodie are your shields. A soft, wireless bra you pray is enough to keep the ladies from trying to claw their way to say hello and a clean, dry pair of underwear is the last of the changes.

Stepping from the bedroom you find König staring out the window and down at the street.

“Wanna watch a show while you wait for your ride?” You twist the inner portion of your hoodie pocket around one finger.

“Ja,” he nods and settles into one corner of the couch with three massive steps.

Turning on something calming, settling yourself on the other side of the couch, a pillow wedged underneath your head. You are drifting when his phone buzzes once.

He curses in what sounds like German before tapping your leg with two fingers.

“My ride is delayed. Can I purchase more kisses?”

Any sleep that might have been gathering fled like birds as a toddler ran full force toward them. You popped upright, looking over every bit of the man you could see in the shifting light of the TV.

The serious cast to his face decided your answer for you. Crawling into his lap, not unlike the way he carried you home less than an hour ago, you settle yourself pussy to penis. The layers of clothing between you would not prevent you from enjoying this stolen bit of time.

“König, I am going to do my best to bankrupt you,” your fingers creep up his arms as his hands settle on your waist.

“Gut.”

No more words are shared, only base noises, keening cries, and the wet sounds of sloppy kisses.

Preemptive tags because I know how much these two people love König: @demothers-empty-blog @machveil

Masterlist

[shouyuus]

could i request car mechanic!vi and fem!reader hcs and little moments of their daily life now that they’re officially dating? 🤭🤭 you write vi so wellll nghghhh 😫

sfw fluffy hcs for car mechanic!vi au bulletpoints bc im in that mood today

breakfast is always a long, drawn out thing -- almost ritualistic, bc "breakfast is the most important meal of the day, sweets! c'mon, you oughtta know that." and you take turns making it, either for each other or for whoever else is in the house that day (sometimes vander, sometimes silco will drop by for coffee, sometimes powder and ekko will stay the night, in which case ekko almost always makes breakfast, bc powder's very particular about her pancakes)

you can't rmbr the last time you sat in a chair proper bc vi's always pulling you into her lap (except at the dinner table, where she tries to show a TAD more decorum, esp if you're having dinner at your place instead of hers, but even then, she'd pull her chair close to yours, just so she can press her leg against yours or reach out to put a palm on your thigh)

on the days that you're not together, you definitely text vi a bit more -- she's got her hands full of repairs, and your biggest worry on the daily is what you wanna make for dinner that day, and if you need to drop by the grocery store before you head over to vi's

the first time you try to teach vi how to use chopsticks, you end up just plopped in her lap, feeding her off your plate bc she claims that "it's easier this way" and that she can "watch your technique better from up close" although it's so stupidly obvious that she's not looking at your hands bc she can't keep her eyes off your lips and how you can't stop giggling when you twist around to feed her

on the lazy summer nights when all the work has been done and all the stuff that can still be done can wait till tomorrow, vi takes you up the hill behind the city, to her favorite little outlook, tucked into the side of a backroad that no one except the true locals know about -- from there, you can see the entire city spread out beneath you, sprawling net, cast in light and shattered stars. "i used to hate this place... just a little, cause i thought i'd never get out of it," she tells you. "and now?" you ask. "now... i kinda love it... it's my home and... well, it gave me you, didn't it?"

vi thanks the heavens that you only live a few streets over, and that it takes her about 5 minutes on her bike to get between your houses (even though, yeah, you do technically live on the rich side of town, just across the train tracks), bc sometimes, 5 minutes is just about as long as she can wait before she starts to feel fidgety about the thought of seeing you again

the nights she spends at yours are always fun -- your bed's more than big enough for the pair of you to sprawl out on; you'd flick through channels on tv till something catches your eye, or carry as many snacks as either of you can up and post up for a movie marathon. it'd always end up with one of you lying against the other, your body curled between her legs or the other way around

sometimes she falls asleep against you, and you'd let the entire movie play before trying to slip out from behind her to turn off the lights. she always wakes up when you move, and she always grumbles and tries to pull you back; you always laugh and promise her that you'll be right back, to which she'd always pout but it morphs into a smile as she watches you patter around the room in a big t-shirt, turning off the lights and clearing the snacks off the bed before climbing back into her arms

she always keeps her hand tucked around your hip whenever the two of you go out anywhere, or she's got her hand pushed into the back pocket of your jeans or shorts or whatever the hell else; she claims its just bc she wants you close; you both know that it's also bc she wants zero questions as to who you belong to when you're walking down the street

when her hair gets long in the back, she lets you braid it and in it up with cute lil clips bc she likes the way it makes you smile

she almost loses it a little when she wakes up one day at yours and finds that you've put out an extra cup for her, and bought her a new toothbrush to use; it's then that she realizes she's already left like a quarter of her wardrobe here and that your parents no longer even look up when she comes downstairs in the morning, bedhead and all, to greet them, and that they've somehow always already made coffee for her, just the way she likes

"hey prett girl, can i ask you something?" "yeah, sure." "what... do you think about moving in together?" "hm? oh --" "not like right this moment or anything but --" "i'd love to. i mean, it does get a little complicated splitting time between my place and yours." "oh... that was -- i thought you'd be a bit more..." vi swallows, trailing off. you cock your head and fix her with a look, "a bit more what? hesitant? i mean... we're basically together all the time now anyway. it'd just make things easier, right? and --" a blush flushes into your cheeks as you look away, clearing your throat, "it'd -- it'd be nice not to have to be so q-quiet, sometimes."

vi nearly blacks out at your words; and yeah, so what if she starts looking at places that exact afternoon?

[vanyzvat]

A DAMN GOOD ACTOR

You're a cookie that's been sent on a mission to the Spire Of Deceit, with the intent to get close to Shadow Milk Cookie and break his heart. The plan is to leave him confused and vulnerable, so your side can have even the slightest advantage when facing him during the upcoming war against the Beasts.

Surprisingly, you've done your job of playing pretend rather well (Your acting skills may or may not have improved thanks to him, ironically), and eventually, on one particular day, when push comes to shove...

You complete your task.

Potential Warnings: Shadow Milk Cookie is kinda genuinely obsessed with you in this, but it's pretty tame compared to some of the other stuff out there.

Shadow Milk Cookie's always loved to have all eyes on him. He's a performer, that's what he does, and he's very good at it! And he knows that, too.

So when you caught his attention, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary for him. Just like everyone else that had come across his path, you didn't mean anything to him at first.

...

Keyword "at first".

But then he saw something within you.

Something you've wanted to keep hidden, and was planning to take to the grave when you inevitably crumbled.

Something darker, something sinister.

A feeling of desire, of longing for something more, to be something more. Something more than this.

So he recruited you! Duh.

...And then paid attention to you.

And then you became closer.

And then you became inseparable.

You knew how he felt- At least, you've started to suspect it. But he was never open about it, of course he wasn't.

So, on a particular day, when you finally felt the time was right... You practically cornered him for answers.

...

"Be honest for once in your life," You know you're asking for a lot.

"Am I being like Candy Apple Cookie to you?"

He lets out a laugh.

"Come on now. All this time together and you still don't trust me?"

You tilted your head, smiling as you raised a brow.

"You're not just an ordinary cookie to me, you know!" He flew over to you, making eye contact as he turned himself upside down in the air.

"Oh? How come?"

...And he suddenly cringes, backing off.

He knows what you're trying to pull. You're trying to get him to say what he likes about you.

"..."

No. Not this time. You're so close to completing your mission, you just needed that one final push.

You grab him by his ruffle collar, yanking him close again.

And for once, he's... Frozen, looking at you with a confused smile? What's, uh, what's happening...?

"How do you really feel about me, Shadow Milk Cookie?"

Ah.

He remains flabbergasted for a few more seconds, before his expression shifts to anger.

"Let go of me." He demanded.

"Answer me." You shot back.

Why isn't it WORKING. Why aren't you letting go. Even with the most serious, anger-filled expression he can muster, it does nothing to you.

You're like Pure Vanilla Cookie sometimes. He tries EVERY trick in the book on you, and yet, nothing quite WORKS. Maybe it does for a while, but you're always adapting.

It's a reaction once, then a small one, and then none at all.

That's another one of the many reasons he feels like he can't get enough of you.

He'd never admit it, of course, but perhaps a part of him was obsessed- He always had his eyes on you.

You gave him a challenge.

He wanted to terrify you, to make you laugh, to make you frown.

He hated you, he loved you.

Whereas everyone else praised or feared his influence, his power- You made him feel... Small. UGH.

You made him feel like nothing, but also everything.

After a while of you just staring at each other's eyes, he's forced to teleport to get out of your grasp.

"You really want to know?"

You gave him a singular nod.

God, you're driving him INSANE.

"FINE."

He rolls his eyes.

Suddenly, the two of you are on the top of the spire. He's leaning his back against one of the pillars, his hair dangling off the edge as he has his arms crossed.

His face? Unamused.

...

But then he hovers up to you, quicker than you can comprehend. He's flying above you as he's in a lying position, barely enough to look down on you.

You're looking at him, but not quite.

Your eyes are looking up at him, but your head remained low.

He sucked in the air through his teeth, his lying position turning to him standing, still hovering above the ground.

Still looking down at you.

He turns around for a moment, mumbling under his breath in frustration before turning back to face you.

He reaches out and gently places a hand on your cheek, causing you to raise a brow again.

His expression- It's a mix of a lot of things.

Reluctance, disgust, maybe even the tiniest hint of nervousness.

Time feels like it has stopped.

Moreso than usual.

He knows he's going to regret this... But what's life without a little bit of risk, right?!

He leans in, raising your chin up, then finally closes the gap between you.

...

It only lasts for a second.

And then he pulls away, cowardly backing off again.

You're silent. WHY ARE YOU SILENT.

He's looking at you.

He's waiting for a reply.

An action.

Something, please give him SOMETHING.

Say something, do something, ANYTHING.

PLEASE.

...

But you only keep looking at him.

Looking at him with that same blank stare.

And he...

...

He sinks into himself.

Oh.

Ow.

He practically deflates like a balloon, slowly moving downwards until his feet hit the ground.

Ow ow ow.

Ow, he doesn't like this.

Ouchy.

This is not a good type of pain.

He knew this pain- The pain of bitter truth. The pain he founded this entire new world in order to avoid.

Is this what it feels like to get your heart broken? To get rejected?

He's never gotten rejected before.

Well, that's debatable...

But never like this.

Never under these circumstances. He knew that if he said the right things and acted the right way, he could get what he wanted from anyone else.

But he doesn't want "anyone else", he wants YOU.

Was he so stupid for trying to use honesty for once? You ASKED.

What does he say now? That you'll regret this? It's never worked. And he doesn't want you to hate him, so.

Ugh, why does he even CARE.

WHY does he bother.

...

You rolled his eyes at his state.

God, he looks like a sad wet cat. This idiot...

...

But you had to do what you had to do.

You take a step forward, and for once, he doesn't notice. Seems like he's too caught up in his wittle feelies to quite look at you.

You take another step.

And then another.

And another.

Until you're in front of him again.

"Shadow Milk Cookie."

He's suddenly alert again.

"...Yeeees?"

He forces the usual facade, smiling.

But you're used to his personality just shifting like this to disguise everything underneath.

You know now.

"Did you..."

"You didn't actually think I could ever fall in love with you, right?"

"Your feelings were just another lie, right?"

Owie... . . . . .

"That's not a very nice joke, y'know!"

A joke where he's the punchline.

Karma.

"Good. I hope it hurts. Now you know how you make everyone else feel."

...He doesn't say anything.

Usually he has a comeback for this.

Little ol' him? Playing mean jokes? Never!

...

But not this time.

"I thought- I thought..."

"You thought you knew me, didn't you. So much for being the Master Of Deceit..."

You chuckled.

"How dare you" He wishes he'd say.

But he doesn't.

Deep down, he had a hunch. He wasn't THAT stupid.

But he was hoping.

Hoping for that one little chance.

...Okay, maybe he was stupid.

And now look at him.

Now, he's the silly one.

What is this.

Why does this feel different?

It doesn't make SENSE for this to feel different.

Those under his influence praised him all the time. His every move, hell, even his every breath- There wasn't a SECOND they didn't love him.

You're doing something- You're doing something to him. No, you've done something to him.

He's confused, vulnerable.

...

And your job here is done.

"That's my cue to leave."

"Goodbye, Shadow Milk Cookie."

He needs to follow you.

Why isn't he following you.

Why can't he MOVE.

He can't just let you go, you're too important.

He needs to get revenge on those who put you up to this.

He needs to get you back.

You need to be his. You have to. You...

He began clapping. Who is he clapping for? You, obviously! You're the star of the show!

"Bravo, bravo!"

"What a performance, tricking the Master Of Deceit himself! What an actor, I must say!"

He's gotten used to this by now.

He had a role to play, and he played it well.

But you knew you had gotten to him.

And that was all you wanted.

You walk away, descending down the stairs, leaving him cheering for you at the top of the spire.

Eventually, the clapping ceases.

And he exhales through his teeth.

First Pure Vanilla Cookie walked away with half his Soul Jam, and now you walked away with half his heart.

He shuts his eyes, gripping at his hair and pulling in frustration. Oh, how he wants to scream and shout.

He feels something escape and roll down his cheek. But is he going to address it? NO. Of course not.

He had done SUCH a good job building these literal and metaphorical walls so NO ONE could reach him.

But you did. Despite it all.

He can't POSSIBLY be this weak, right?

He's a Beast!

He's the world's finest playwright, poet, director, actor, clown- And, of course, everyone's most beloved trickster!

He's Shadow Milk Cookie!

...

And you really are a damn good actor.

[lovefromray]

Tracing Jason’s scars..(mini drabble)

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Jason’s always hated his scars , you knew as much when you started well..seeing each other? Or more so occasionally seeing a hint of Jason’s skin.. He hated each one , each mark , each line of pink or dot of raised skin. He hated it all, specifically the Y autopsy scar along his chest ; the scars from the Joker , a couple of purpley pink scars that lined his wrists , the white marks dancing along his back and biceps , the raised skin from each scar and even the bruises he’d received from fights..none of it screamed “hero” to him, it all screamed shame..the fear he wasn’t good enough for having such marks..you’d easily disagree, your fingers dancing along your “favourites” , lips plump and pressed against the ones that Jason hated the most , eyes stuck on his face as he grunts and tries his hardest not to tell you to get off .

Jason didn’t want you to get off..no no but he couldn’t accept that you’d be so sweet and so nice to kiss each one, to trace each one , to be so amazed by each one or even to ask questions ; not nosey enough to straight up ask , no no you were sensitive around wanting to know where they came from . You asked small questions like “this one..was it from-“ only to be cut off by Jason, his lips against yours , his hands pulling yours off his skin only for him to push you down and start his own worship of your body . His lips finding any scars or bruises you harboured from the harshness of life, “don’t ask” he’d whisper , hoping to distract your pretty mind from the curiosity . Sure he’d tell you eventually but now..? Now he wanted to appreciate you just as much as you did with him.

Jason’s shame hides him away especially during your intimate times , his hands coving scars or maybe he’s pushing the blanket over himself or keeping his shirt on just because he’s scared , he’d eventually warm up to your little praises or begs to see him more . Your words of reassurance and respect easing him into removing it all, to come out of hiding ..sure sometimes he’d refuse to remove the clothing, the helmet sometimes staying on just for confidence sometimes…sure you’d care a little , wanting to see your favourite man but..you’d accept it, you’d wait for him to feel comfortable enough and as soon as his confidence and comfort hit him, he’s attacking you with the sight of him ; scars and all. His eyes trained on yours as you giggle and gasp at the sight , your lips already on your favourite scars and your fingers lightly tracing the ones you knew he hated the most…

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Small Drabble cause I’ve missed writing , I hope it’s okay! I take requests too! Thank you lovelies

[kooggukk]

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 BEYOND THE JOB // JJK

daddy jungkook (literally)

; babysitting the cutest angel on earth is the perfect job. (except when her father is fucking hot and wants all of you)

— 1/??

“seriously though, you have to fuckin’ quit that job already.”

Sasha, who happens to be your best friend ever since you started working at the local elementary school, just lectured you again. she was already teaching there when you arrived, you spent your lunch breaks with her and even be each other’s substitute sometimes.

surprisingly, she quit a few months after that. you stayed close though. at first, she was dying to know the drama happening among the teaching staff, but as shit kept going down which included you and the principal, all you ever hear from her is that you need to quit.

it wasn’t a huge surprise to her when you first told her your boss, aka the school’s principal, asked you out. it was weird, but everyone knew he was.. a little desperate. he had asked most of the female teachers out, some who agreed could only say bad things about the experience.

you declined his offer politely, explaining that you don’t want your personal life to mix with your job. it was awkward after that, but turns out he seems to be the dumbest person on earth. he asked you out two weeks after that, again.

still to this day, he keeps asking you out over and over and you keep rejecting him over and over again. sure, he got a lil’ crush on you, sweet, right? fuck no. he’s a pervert, doesn’t know what personal space is.

“but i need the money. i don’t know where else i could get such good salary.” you told her, for the nth time.

“be a stripper,” Sasha casually said, sipping on her diet coke while your eyes widened.

“don’t say nonsense, dafuq..” you both shared a giggle, but you definitely won’t put that job idea on the bottom of your list. maybe in the middle, or top 5. if you really can’t find a good place, then gotta be top 3.

“you could be one until you save enough money, then look for a less crazy one.”

“there’s never enough money, sasha.” you sighed, fuck inflation. when you grew up and finished studying, you realized the hardest part of being an adult was money. it’s crazy how difficult it is to make a living.

“if you don’t give in your quitting notice tomorrow, i’m gonna do it for you instead.” she narrowed her eyes at you.

“i don’t want to make a decision too quick. not until i know i can find another job.”

“quit.”

“no.”

“quit.”

“no.”

“quit.”

…

“okay.”

she squealed in her chair, gaining some attention on the two of you.

“if you dare to lie to me right now, i’m gonna make you eat your own shit.”

you kicked her under the table, sending her a glare. “behave, bitch.”

┈ ⪩⪨   ┈

“oh, __! what brings you here today?” your boss, sehun immediately stood up from his chair, ready to greet you with a hug.

panicking, you reached your hand out with a paper, catching his attention. “this is..?”

“my resignation notice, sir.”

“your what?”

he took the paper from your grip, examining it carefully. his eyebrows fell together, eyes scanning every single word.

he backed up, resting on the edge of his table. he looked at the paper again, rereading the first sentence.

‘Kindly accept this letter as my formal resignation…’

“are you sure, __?” he asked, putting the paper on his table. he crossed his arms, frustration written on his face.

you fixed your hair, giving him a firm nod. “yeah, i’ve been thinking of it for a while now.”

“i’m glad i could be a part of this amazing team, but i just feel like,” you struggled to find the words, obviously you didn’t want to tell in his face.

‘aye bruh, stop bein’ a pervert and you might stop losing your workers’

“look, teaching isn’t my thing. and i feel horrible to find that out so late.”

“well, if your passion for teaching ever comes back, you’re more than welcomed here.”

“thank you,” you smiled, because even though he’s the most annoying person you’ve ever met, your co-workers have always been kind to you.

the children also love you, and you’re extremely thankful for all the support and love you got from everyone.

during the usual lunch break, you co-workers heard the news too. they all wished you the best with a hug, some getting emotional too.

officially, this was your last week working at the school.

when you got home, sasha sent you a link to an advertisement.

‘looking for a nanny’

you laughed, dialing her contact. didn’t take her long to answer, obviously. she’s always on her damn phone, even when working.

“you can’t be serious. a nanny?” you laughed, finding the idea of you with a kid ridiculous.

“have you seen the description? girl, they pay damn well!” she said, followed by her exhaling.

“didn’t you say you’re gonna stop smoking?”

“i stopped. for three hours.”

you shook your head, putting her on speaker as you clicked the advertisement.

“170.000₩?” you blurted out loud, “a day?!” sasha hummed on the other side of the call.

“told ya’..”

“that’s.. nice. woah, yeah, nice.” you mumbled as you continued to read the requirements and some important details about the job.

“give it a try.” sasha said, but your eyes caught a sentence.

“they want someone with experience, as expected.” you let out a long sigh and fell back on your bed.

“you got the experience.”

“me? sasha, i never looked after a kid-“

“you work with kids. first and second graders. and they all fuckin’ love you.”

“that’s different.” you groaned.

“it’s not. a kid is a kid. 3 year olds are just as damn annoying as 7 year olds. prove me wrong..”

you laughed, she was right. they can be a huge pain in the ass, but they have the purest soul.

“true.”

“give it a try, __.” she said again, calling you by your name. oh she’s serious serious.

“yeah, i might call tomorrow then.”

“might? no, you will.” she corrected you and you rolled your eyes.

“sure.”

you called them the next day after considering it for half a day, being the typical embarrassment, you called at the wrong time.

the man was in a hurry, so you both just quickly agree on a time to meet in person. that happened to be the day after.

you looked at the address one more time after you got off the bus, realizing it was more of a wealthy neighborhood. you only had to walk about 5 minutes until you got there, hesitantly but you pressed the bell.

a tall, young man opened the door. his skin is smooth and fair, almost perfect. his hair dark, slightly wavy which was styled in a mullet cut, longer at the back.

his choice in clothes seemed to be rich, a white ribbed polo shirt with short sleeves, causing your eyes to drop to his sleeve tattoo in a second. he paired it with black tailored trousers.

“hey, you must be __?” he asked with uncertainty and you came back to life, smiling to him.

“yeah, i am.”

“great, come in.”

he stepped aside and you walked in, taking off your shoes and jacket.

the house was oddly barely decorated, not a single picture or painting on the walls, very few plants, which you’re sure are fake plants also. the house wasn’t really colorful, most of the furnitures are bright. like beige and cream white.

“would you like a drink? water, tea, soda? maybe coffee?” he suggested as he walked in front of you, leading you to the living room.

“no, thank you.” you politely refused, feeling a little.. off in such a nice home. not something you’re used to.

you sat down on the couch, carefully not to mess the neatly placed pillows behind. god you looked so uncomfortable and awkward.

“i’d like to introduce myself again, in person this time.” he spoke as he sat down on the armchair, next to the couch.

“i’m jeon jungkook, 27. i’m a dentist in the center of seoul. i’m the father of a sweet angel, nabi. she turns 5 in a few weeks, we could say she’s in her, erm,” he struggled to find an appropriate word.

“crazy phase?” you asked with a smile.

“yeah, something like that. she’s been loud lately, that’s all.” he chuckled, resting his arms on his knees.

you nodded and held your small bag tightly, “i’d like to introduce myself better too, then.”

“i’m __, 24 and i currently work at an elementary school. i handed in my resignation letter and this is my last week as a teacher, so i’m searching for a new job currently.”

you paused, hesitant what else to say.

“elementary school? so, you work with kids?”

“yes, first and second grade.”

after a few minutes of getting to know each other more, a little girl, most likely his daughter, walked down the stairs with her sleepy appearance.

“oh!” she stopped the moment she saw you, the tiredness leaving her eyes.

“nabi, c’mere.” jungkook held out his hand, “this is __. what do you say?” he asked her, holding her tiny hands.

“hello.” she greeted you and you smiled, her shyness is adorable.

“hi.”

“__ is here because she would like to look after you.” he said and she looked up to him so fast, you thought her neck would snap.

“daddy, are you leeving me?” she gasped and jungkook chuckled at her words, shaking his head.

“no, but when i’m at work, someone needs to be here and take care of you. how about __, does she seem nice? hm?”

the little girl shrugged, hugging her father’s arm. he sent her back to the bedroom, saying he would be there soon too.

“well, she’s a little shy at first but, i think she’s gonna open up fast.” he smiled and stood up, your eyes widening a bit and you stood up too.

“does that mean, i got the job?”

“see you next monday?” he asked and you almost started jumping, but you held back. instead, you gave him a huge smile and nodded.

“monday then.”