#hi. im bewitched by her

[drawnecromancy]

Finally back into artfight with Amalasuintha for @pizza-hats-of-the-world-1882 !!! :D

[lastofthe20thcenturygirls]

maturity is not acting cool like you did in your teens. bro learnt his lesson!

[lady-ika]

🪻🔮

If happiness was a tangible thing, it would be you.

If you'd have told me the feeling you'd bring, I'd think it untrue.

And people search for a wonder like you all of their lives

You still amaze me after all this time.

🔮🪻

[rexscanonwife]

OUGGGGHHHHHHH I was doing some talking with Hirasol and a little with Ruby about...HYPOTHETICAL s/is...

I was thinking that she could potentially be a bounty hunter! I'm thinking she might have even met Nai before the events that kick off the series, I think that'd be kinda interesting bcs both Nai and Vash have been around for so long but I'll probably decide on that later when I've watched more of the series!

The point is its...possible that he would have attempted to utilize her bounty hunting skills to go get Vash for him, and I'm thinking things get VERY unprofessional very fast lol. My s/i is probably very world-weary, a little tough on the outside from surviving in the wastelands for so long, similar to Eurydice from Hadestown. Except instead of an Orpheus she gets like The Worst guy sjjfkg like

I was a little hesitant bcs Knives...has problems ajfjf normally I'm all for people shipping with villains, it's no big deal. But idk hating humans and wanting to wipe them from the fucking planet seems like it'd make the relationship a little awkward but I also think it'd be fun if I was just his One Human. They're all awful and should be purged except for this one she's mine! Not sure it's love, but tbh I think my s/i would go for it despite him being a walking red flag cause she's just so Tired. It beats sleeping outside and keeping your gun under your pillow thats for sure ._.

[wasyago]

Falls in, i would love to hear about this decked out/failed cave exploration au pls pls pls already i am Bewitched

hehehe [in tango's voice] sighh i suppose...

really im very tempted to just let it sit and not tell anything, because it's so fun seeing people theorize and point out details in the notes. but yeah i guess i shouldn't gatekeep it, its a fun au!

i do want to state in the beginning that it was a one-off thing and i have no plans on continuing it or drawing more for it. if you do tho? feel free! (not asking for fanart by any means, but giving the green light if anyone was wondering)

well

-------

Pet crew were a group of cave explorers. They're no experts by any means but they were no amateurs either! (ignore the fact that they're not wearing any PPE, i didn't want to draw it, ok--) And recently they've been excited about mapping out a new cave system they found, completely unexplored according to their research.

Tango, always a big lover of his plans and spreadsheets, presumably decided to go in alone ahead of time to sketch out at least a rough draft for a map, so they had an idea of what they're going to be dealing with.

But see, this cave is not an ordinary cave, no matter how pristine and untouched it looked. It is one gigantic organism of unknown origin, and a hunrgy one at that, the air inside it is filled with little cells or spores that, when inhaled enough, start taking over the body and corroding it to the cave's will. Killing the host in the process.

So, obviously, after spending some time in the cave by himself, Tango did get some cells in him. Not enough to be noticeable, but enough to give him a headstart on the corruption when the group went in for a proper dive some days later.

The first symptoms of undergoing the change are pretty standard: light fever, weakness, dizziness — easy to mistake for a flu.

Which is exactly what Tango did. Of course, going caving with a flu is not a smart thing to do either, but the group has been planning this trip for so long, delaying it even more because someone was slightly under the weather would've been foolish!

The cave started off with a big drop, requiring a rope to be set up, and then sprawled into a system of tunnels. Tango and Pearl were very excited to find an entrance to some ancient tombs a couple of hours into the dive. There were stairs leading even deeper underground, which turned out to be an entrance to a bigger cave system, with a huge frozen lake in the middle and an entrance to abandoned mines.

Further symptoms include skin turning pale, graying hair, eyes starting to shift color to red. Previous symptoms remain and intensify.

Tango had always been pale, he had blond hair too, and in the dark it was hard to notice the white streaks in them. The pink cheeks were easily passed as a result of being in the cold. Pearl did express some concerns about Tango's well-being when he started to fall back a bit, but he dismissed it as just him getting tired. By that point Pearl seemed to also have some "frost" in her hair.

After the hair have fully turned white, the tips start to switch color to an unnatural blue. Skin eventually loses color completely, turning gray. Fever intensifies as body desperately tries to fight the infection.

At that point it was impossible to deny that something was wrong with Tango. There are no mirrors underground though, so to him it was just his flu getting out of hand. Guilty of hiding his illness, yes, but nothing critical. The blue hair however were not normal, and the other two were freaking out a bit more than Tango would've hoped for.

They had an argument.

Etho snapped and hit Tango to beat some sense into his stupid head.

By that point Pearl was clearly looking bad too, and Etho's own hair were apparently turning white. They were all feeling terrible, physically and mentally. They decided to head home.

As previously stated, the cave is in fact alive and can sense when something that belongs to it is trying to escape. In an effort to stop it, the whole cave system comes to life. Old animal carcasses rise and start walking, small screeching creatures begin patrolling the tombs, the ice melts and the cave blooms in dangerous ways.

When the crew exited the mines into the second level of the cave system, it was apparent that the way back would be a lot harder. By that point Tango was struggling to stand and Etho had to drop his equipment to carry him. But the fever and the dizziness were making it hard to move fast, the changed layout of the cave was difficult to navigate even with their map, and the way to the surface was still very and very long. It was obvious they couldn't make it out....

Unless they were willing to make some sacrifices.

Etho isn't proud of his decision, but leaving Tango was their only option! He and Pearl still had a chance to escape if they moved quickly, but Tango was just too far gone, he couldn't-- Etho couldn't carry him to the exit, he was getting too tired, and if they all stuck together it would get all three of them killed! Was it not better for at least two of them to survive instead of-

They had another argument.

Pearl stubbornly insisted on taking Tango, so Etho had to lie to her and say that they will come back once they scout out the way. Etho couldn't force himself to look at Tango though, if he did he would be met with this knowing look and he just couldn't bear it. Tango cried when they were leaving.

After the body succumbs to the fever it stays dead for a short period of time, while the rest of the changes set in.

It took a miracle for both Etho and Pearl to reach the tombs, but the hard part came after. Etho did everything in his power to convince Pearl to leave with him, he said they will come back later when they're better prepared, he said it was too late to help Tango, he said it was Tango's own fault, he said many bad things, none of which were enough to change Pearl's mind. She turned back and Etho didn't follow her.

He ran through the tombs and the caves alone, losing his eye to a monster he saw all too late. It was painful and it was disorienting, Etho doesn't even remember how he got to the initial drop they went down, he was panicking and only moving forward because of adrenaline and instinct. The ascend was a fever dream, Etho doesn't know how he didn't fall to his death then.

Through the rush of blood in his head, Etho heard the faint sound of Tango's voice. Too cheery for his feverish condition, and much, much closer, a lot closer than the place they left him to die in. He did not hear Pearl. The sound stopped when it was right under him, and he felt a light tug on the rope he was hanging of. And nothing else happened...

Etho emerged from the cave into the cold night, stumbling over his own feet, too tired to run. Their van was parked over by the entrance and Gem was already waiting for him. Him — shaking, bloody and alone.

...

The body reanimates again, now obedient to the cave's will. It is no longer alive but it is not dead either, frozen, stalking through the tunnels in a mindless haze.

[le-clair-de-lune]

Just reader admiring her boy

"Fuck me" you murmured under you breath, your lips parted and your eyes wide as you watched him. The way his muscles flexed, the determination in his eyes, his perfectly messy hair, he resembled nothing less than a Greek god, truly Apollo reincarnated.

"Think you got a bit of drool there" Lily teased causing Remus to look over at you.

"Huh?" you mumbled still entranced at the sight in front of you.

Remus scoffed in disbelief "I just don't get how you could be so-"

His words were cut off as you turned his chin watching as James hovered in the air, pulling his shirt off with one hand before running a hand through his hair.

"Oh"

"You were saying?" you taunted breathlessly your eyes still trained on James.

"Well I-um I" he gulped.

"Yeah" you agreed, watching as James raised his arms above his head leaning back slightly whilst he let out a laugh.

"Unbelievable" Lily snickered breaking the both of you out of your trance, Remus slightly red in the face. "Looks like he's got some more fangirls" she rolled her eyes "Would you like an 'I love James' shirt? Im sure the fan club has extra"

"Oi! I am not a fangirl" Remus replied offended "He's my best mate but you gotta agree Evans, he's good looking"

"Incredibly good looking in fact" you continued "Like he was sculpted out of marble. He's gorgeous" you sighed resting you head on your palm thoughts filled with images of him.

"Maybe not that far" Remus says watching your dazed state.

"'Maybe not that far' he says" you mimic "Have you seen the man?!?! He's ravishing!!" you exclaim "Bewitching, exquisite. He's the most divine bei-"

"Calm down Shakespeare, your boy's coming this way" Lily rolls her eyes amused.

Suddenly you are embraced from behind a head finding it's place on your shoulder as arms wrap around your waist.

"Hello love" he whispers against your neck, placing a soft kiss.

You let out a pleased sigh before turning in his arms, draping your arms over his shoulders. "Hi handsome." you smile up at him before placing a soft kiss to his lips.

Before James has a chance to deepen it, you are pulled off of him by a smirking Sirius. "No hello kiss for me??" he pouts batting his eyelashes, laughing as you shove his shoulder.

"In your dreams, Black."

"You know it" he winks

"Hey! find your own girl to dream about" James gasps pulling you closer to him "This one's mine"

Yes you absolutely were.

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

mint chocolate rewards [s.h.] 18+

an: hiii i kept getting stuck with this one but am pretty happy with how it turned out!! as much as i love pathetic steve i also looooove cocky steve. hope you enjoy!! feel free to send requests/suggestions or just chat with me :) -m

summary: you’re tutoring steve (there’s not a lot of learning going on) and he’s a smug asshole sometimes. (ft. ice cream, trains, and karaoke)

modern!steve x fem!reader 

warnings: use of y/n, cursing, angst (steve is a little bit of a an asshole), kissing, a tiny bit of phone teasing, dirty talk, fingering, edging, p in v, smidge of daddy kink (used like once or twice and it’s steve referring to himself)  18+ MDNI!!!!!!

wc: 19.3k (oh im a yapper)

masterlist here!!

College has been a fresh start for you, moving away from your small, stuffy town and basking in the change of scenery and people that a new city brought you. 

Boston was busy most of the time, a Friday or Saturday night in downtown made the city feel alive, electrified—but unlike New York, this city did sleep. Once the hustle and bustle of cars and trains stopped, the city shutdown for the night and the streets were quiet and still. Well in some places. 

It was your third year at Boston University and you’d developed a fondness for the city around you. It was a city of passion and that extended to food, history, and especially sports. A passionate place with the people to match it. 

With this new school and new city, you’d also found some new friends. Robin and Eddie, the three of you had found each other during the first week of freshman year and it had kind of just been that way ever since. You’d like to say you were Robin's best friend, but you knew that title was reserved for someone else. 

You didn’t know Steve Harrington, but you certainly knew of him. Hushed whispers and tired rumors always swirled through the air when Steve was around—and even when he wasn’t. 

Despite the reputation he seemed to have, you wondered if there was really any truth to it. Sure, he seemed charismatic and a little full of himself. Yes, he wore a smug smirk that you thought could bewitch just about anyone. But, when you sat on the sidelines and observed him, you noticed the way he tried to make everyone laugh. You’d seen firsthand how he took the time to talk to everyone around him and make sure they felt included in whatever the group was up to. You saw how he treated Robin, and cared for her. And plus, he couldn’t be that bad if she thought so highly of him, if she loved him so much.

So maybe you did know him, at least a little bit. 

But in reality you were a fairly optimistic person, so you kept your theories about Steve to yourself. You tended to look for the good in people, even when there wasn’t much to look at. A glass half full kind of gal. Which is why when you hear about the ladies man, the stereotypical asshole that is Steve Harrington, you keep your mouth shut and don’t add to the conversation at all. 

Even with Steve being Robin’s best friend, the two of you hardly ever overlapped. You’d see him in passing or he’d be coming to see Robin while you were leaving, but that was it. You weren’t sure why this was how it was, especially with how much she yapped about him. But really you think that Steve has his group of people and Robin has hers. The time they spent together was their own and you didn’t have any issues with that. 

And so when your professor pulls you aside after algebra ll, you realize your overlap with Steve Harrington just increased tenfold. 

“Steve is asking for some outside help and we talked about it and decided the group sessions that I do probably aren’t going to be a good fit. I know you’ve picked up some one on one sessions in the past and made you my first stop.” 

Although you don’t want to admit it, your heart beats a little faster at the thought of spending one on one time with Steve. You’re not sure if it’s excitement or dread—maybe a mix of both. 

“I, uh, I can do that. He’s serious about this right? I don’t want to waste my time if he’s not really wanting to learn something.” Okay, so maybe you’d let some of the rumors about him wiggle their way into your brain, but you couldn’t help it! 

“He is. From what I’ve seen he takes his classes seriously, despite what others say about him. I don’t think he’d ask for help just to make a joke out of it.”

She had a point, why would he go out of his way to seek tutoring if he wasn’t serious about it? And if someone needed some help and you could do it, you were going to. 

“Alright, I’m in. You can give him my number and I’ll see about setting something up.” 

———-

Your phone buzzing beside you while you laid in bed that night wasn’t out of the ordinary but it was strange when you looked and didn’t recognize the number on your screen. Until you remembered the conversation you’d had with Professor Benson that morning. And until you scrolled through the messages and saw his name. 

Unknown: Hi! I heard you agreed to be my tutor! Professor B didn’t tell me your name but thank you! 

Unknown: You are a lifesaver. 

Unknown: Oh shit this is Steve Harrington by the way. I forgot to mention that. 

Phone still clutched tightly in your hand, you cursed yourself for feeling nervous. He was being perfectly polite, cute even, and here you were with sweaty palms at the thought of texting him back. But you had to. You agreed to this and you wouldn’t go back on your word over some jitters. 

It only took you writing and rewriting the message about twenty times before you came up with something simple that didn’t make you cringe. 

Y/n: Hi, Steve! You’re welcome, I hope I can be of some help to you. I’m y/n, by the way. Did you have a certain time or place you wanted to meet up for your first session? I’m free most days after 6. 

Steve: Y/n? As in the person Robin has replaced me with? What a small world. 

Y/n: Funny. I don’t think anyone could replace your spot in Robin’s life, but yes that’s me.

A small smile worked its way on your lips as you went back and forth with him, some of the nerves slipping away. 

Steve: Well lucky me, I’ll finally get to spend some time with the girl I’ve heard so much about. But as for the first session, what about the library at 7 tomorrow? The tables in the back? 

You tried not to let the first part of his text affect you so much, but it did. If you were being honest, you didn’t think he even knew about you at all, so the thought that he had was making your pulse speed up. 

Y/n: Sounds perfect. I’ll see you then! 

Y/n: Oh and I’ve heard plenty about you too, all good things. 

Steve: Let’s hope I live up to my name then. See you tomorrow. 

———

Steve was living up to his name, but not the one Robin had given him. 

The day had passed quickly and before you knew it you were here about twenty minutes early with math textbooks and notes surrounding you. Now you wouldn’t fault Steve for not being early, that wouldn’t be fair, but you would fault him for being an hour late. 

Well technically he still hadn’t shown up. 

Ten or fifteen minutes, even half an hour you could brush off. Things happen, you get that. But you had no text, no call, no anything and you felt a steady stream of irritation flowing through you. Your texts had gone unanswered and while the rational part of you was concerned that something had happened, more than anything you were frustrated. 

You texted Robin to see if she knew anything about what was going on and she didn’t. If he wasn’t here by 8:45 you were leaving. That was more than fair and you cursed yourself for even giving him that much leeway. But really you hoped he didn’t show at all because now you were tired and pissed and certainly not in the mood to hear his excuses let alone tutor him. The thought of even speaking about math right now made you want to cry! 

It was a surprise your pencil didn't snap from how tight you were gripping it in your hand, your jaw clenched and the beginning of a headache pulsing behind your eyes. You’d try one more time, send one more text before you were done. 

Y/n: Can you at least let me know you’re alive?

That was fifteen minutes ago and still nothing. Looking down at your phone you see it’s now 8:50 and you push your chair back with a huff, standing up to stuff everything back into your bag, shoulders aching before you even add on the extra weight. 

It’s when you’re sliding in your laptop that you hear it. Panicked footsteps are hurrying toward you and you don’t even have to look up to know who it is. Any exhaustion you had is wiped away and replaced with red hot anger, the tips of your ears burning as you try to remind yourself to breathe. 

“Fuck, I’m here! Shit, I’m sorry but I’m here.”

You ignore him, it’s all you can do right now and honestly you think it’s best for both of you that you don’t speak. You’d been up since 5 am and that wasn’t his fault, but it definitely was his fault that he was showing up 2 hours late and keeping you up when you didn’t have to be. 

Zipping up your bag and grabbing your keys off the table you turn, brushing past him without so much as a glance before you’re heading to the doors of the library. Maybe you’re being a little dramatic but you don’t care. You hear him behind you, cursing under his breath and trying to quietly call your name but you keep going. Past the doors and down the sidewalk and straight ahead with a frown on your face. 

A hand on your arm stops you and you realize you manage to keep a few feet ahead of him for about four blocks. You don’t turn to him, don’t give any acknowledgment of his presence besides the pause of your feet. 

“I’m sorry I was a little late—”

That gets your attention and it’s enough to break the little silent treatment you’ve had going. It’s enough to have you pulling your arm away from his hand despite the warmth it provided as you turn to finally face him. 

“A little? Try two hours, Steve.” 

His nose scrunches and he looks away. You can see the embarrassment in his pinched brows and pouty lips but it does little to dull the frustration that’s been building inside of you since the half hour mark. 

But he’s standing in front of you for the first time and while he’s spewing sorry’s you’re taking him in. His hair is disheveled and his lips are a little swollen, like he or someone else has been biting on them. He’s wearing a lilac t-shirt that looks a little too good on him and jeans that hug him in all the right places. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. Time got away from me and I didn’t realize until I was leaving her house that it was so late! I thought I’d given us plenty of time but I guess I…I fucked up.” 

You don’t hear much after “leaving her house”, a new wave of anger washing over you and you have to fist your hands at your side to keep from knocking in his pretty white teeth. 

“Was everyone okay?” Your voice is calm and quiet, a little sprig of hope inside that maybe someone needed his help, something had happened and it was an emergency. You hated yourself a little bit for hoping for something like when in reality you knew the truth. He’d been too busy with a girl to remember you. 

And yes you realize it wasn’t so much you specifically as it was your tutoring session, but that didn’t make it sting any less. You were a girl, a girl who blushed around cute guys and who wanted to hold hands and kiss and go on dates. And so what if it hurt your feelings a little bit that Steve had forgotten you? You could get over that. But what you wouldn’t get over, at least tonight, was that he’d taken advantage of someone wanting to help him and wasted your time. 

“Oh, yeah, everyone’s okay. It was more like a…a date, I guess.” 

“Right. And your phone stopped working?” 

He scratched at the back of his neck with a sheepish look on his face, “I didn’t hear it go off and when I saw all your texts I was already almost here so I just didn’t respond.” Well at least he’s honest. 

“Okay. Maybe you should try out a group session with Professor B before you rule it out completely, you might do well with it.” 

He pulled back, eyes wide and a look of surprise written across features. You get the feeling he’s not used to being told no, even indirectly. “What does that mean?” 

“It means that it’s not fair to me to waste my time. I agreed to this because I wanted to help you but if you couldn’t be bothered to show up on time or even call me to let me know you couldn’t make it, it doesn’t really give me hope that this will be beneficial for either of us.” 

His face hardens the slightest bit and despite the pull you have to be a people pleaser, to say sorry and that it’s okay, you hold strong and straighten your shoulders as he stares down at you. 

“So that’s it? One strike and I’m out?” There’s almost a scoff when he says it, like he can’t believe you and it only adds fuel to the fire burning in your chest. 

“Well you haven’t exactly made a great first impression. If a date is more important than math, that’s fine. I really don’t care. But I won’t clear my nights and sit in libraries alone for someone that doesn’t take this seriously.” You watch him take in your words, furrow between his brows getting deeper the more you talk and you just keep going. “And for the record, I don’t owe you more than one shot. What’s the point of this if you’ll just strike out?” 

“I don’t strike out.” 

A laugh of disbelief flies out of you, hands going up like your surrendering, “Really? That’s all you got out of what I just said?” He shrugged at you and despite his pretty face you felt nothing but contempt for him right now. 

“It was a mistake. I lost track of time. If you think you’re too good to give me a shot to prove that I care, then whatever.” 

“You’re an asshole! Don’t try to-to manipulate me into feeling bad about you doing something shitty. Me setting a boundary with you does not mean I think I’m too good, it means I know my time is worth something and I don’t have to put up with bullshit from people, especially someone I don’t even know!” You can see the regret on his face, the way his features soften and his shoulders slump. “Maybe next time set an alarm or don’t schedule a date on the same day as tutoring. Or maybe let someone know you won’t make it before they sit there waiting for 2 hours to help you out. And maybe if you don’t do any of that, show up and don’t be an asshole when they’re upset about it. Maybe learn that you’re not entitled to people’s time and effort just because you think you deserve it.” 

Finished with your little rant you take a breath, hoping he doesn’t lash out at you because you feel your courage waning and you just want to go home and sleep. 

But all he does is nod at you with dim eyes before he’s turning on his heel and walking in the other direction before you can say anything else. Not that you would, you think you’d gotten it all out when you were standing in the middle of an almost empty street scolding him like a toddler. 

Maybe you’d been wrong in your theories about Steve Harrington. Or maybe you just didn’t fall into the group of people that got to see a different side of him. 

————-

Steve felt like shit. 

He’d lost the nerve to say anything when you tore into him like you did, and he deserved it. It was an asshole move to be 2 fucking hours late and then get upset at you being upset with him. And all for what? A girl he barely knew, who didn’t even like him and called him once every few weeks when she was bored? To be fair he didn’t really like her either, so that made him only feel more shitty. 

You’d told him off, which didn’t happen often and regardless of how pissed off or embarrassed he’d been, it was hard to stay upset when he noticed the cute little twitch your nose would do when you yelled at him. 

And he felt bad because you were Robin’s friend, one of her best friends! He’d been hearing about you for what seemed like forever and now that he was actually going to spend some time with you, he’d blown it. He knew you were a sweetheart, quiet most of the time and always willing to do anything for others. It had been a low blow trying to make you feel bad, he knew that. But he really needed your help here and was willing to do anything to get it. Even if it meant guilting you into it, I guess. 

He was well aware of his reputation around campus, grade A asshole with girls hanging off his arms every weekend. Hell, he played into it most of the time. It was easier to just play into what people expected sometimes, even if that meant being a dick. 

And okay, maybe he was guilty of being kind of cocky sometimes. He could be a little smug but he never meant to come off like too much of a prick. He liked to think it was charming sometimes. 

But right now he was worried about passing algebra and making things right with you. Robin would kill him if he didn’t, and he owed it to you to at least try to be decent. 

That’s how he finds himself here, standing in front of you and Eddie where you’re perched in the shade under a big tree in the center of campus. Before last night he’s never said more than a hello to you and he doesn’t think he’s ever even been this close to Eddie. 

He watches the two of you, the way you lean into Eddie as he walks closer and the way Eddie narrows his eyes like a guard dog who’ll bite if he gets too close. He feels a twinge of something deep in his stomach watching you cling to Eddie and maybe it’s because you’re so pretty or maybe it’s because Robin has built you up in his head to be this angel that he’s kind of enamored with. 

“Can I talk to you?” He’s wearing sunglasses so you can’t see the way his eyes dart around your face and settle on the small pout you're wearing on your glossy, peach colored lips. 

“You didn’t have much to say last night, nothing good at least.” You had one hell of a backbone, he’d give you that. From what he’d heard from Robin you tended to try your best to appease the people around you so a little spark shot up his spine at the thought of you not backing down to him. 

He didn’t miss the way Eddie smirked, looking between your stern eyes and the pleading puppy dog look Steve was wearing. He nudged your shoulder to grab your attention, “Oh hear him out, yeah? It won’t hurt anything.” Steve gave Eddie a quick, grateful nod and turned back just in time to see you rolling your eyes at the both of them. 

“5 minutes, Harrington.” 

Eddie got up, gesturing for Steve to take his place as he grabbed his stuff and sent a reassuring wink your way. Steve thinks with all the friends he has, he doesn’t have any besides Robin that really count. Maybe if he quit being an ass, you and Eddie would be his friends too. 

“First I wanna apologize for being late, and for not calling or texting to let you know. I do care about school and I appreciate you taking the time to try and help me. I’m sorry I took that for granted.” He watches your lips part in what could either be shock or surprise and the small nod you give makes him keep going. “And I’m really sorry for the shitty stuff I said. It was a dick move trying to make you feel guilty when you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m lucky you even agreed to help me in the first place, s’not your job. I guess I’m just…used to getting my way. It sounds shitty to say it out loud but I guess we both know it’s true. I realize you don’t owe me anything and I haven’t done anything to earn a second chance, so I’m sorry. I’m gonna try out a group session and see how that goes, I think. But uh, yeah, I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not going to apologize for anything.” Well, he has to admit that is not what he expected to come out of your mouth. Your shoulders had softened the slightest bit but your eyes were still weary of him. 

“I don’t expect you to, you did nothing wrong. I deserved you telling me off. Hell, I probably needed it. I just wanted you to know I was sorry, you deserved to hear it.” 

When you don’t say anything for a few minutes he takes that as his sign to leave, pushing himself off the ground beside you and dusting off his pants before you stop him with a sigh of his name. 

“Thank you—for the apology. I can tell you mean it and that’s all I wanted. It sounds like you actually heard what I was saying and…and if you want a second shot, you’ve earned one.” 

“Really?” He smiled wide at you, hand grabbing yours that you’d held out and he lifted you up with ease. You nodded at him and he felt relief all over. He didn’t realize he still had your hand in his until you gave him a squeeze and he dropped it, shrugging shyly. 

“Two strikes and you are out, Steve. Don’t make me regret this.” 

He couldn’t help the cocky smirk he flashed, hands going to his hips, staring down and not missing the way your throat bobbed at how close he was. 

“I told you I don't strike out, didn’t I?”

—————

You were very pleasantly surprised by Steve’s apology, kind of shocked by it too. You hadn’t expected much to come out of your little rant, let alone him seeming so genuinely sorry about what had happened. And he seemed to understand what you said, he let it soak in and took accountability for it. 

When he was standing there so sincere and upset, you couldn’t help but to offer him another chance. This was the Steve you thought you’d seen, kind and attentive. You were happy you weren’t totally wrong about him. 

But one thing you did realize was that Steve Harrington was a pest. He got under your skin in the best way possible and lit you on fire in a way that nobody ever had. It’s like he lit a spark in you and you loved every second, even if you pretended like he got on your nerves. 

In the last two weeks you and Steve had gotten together about 4 times, and it was going well! You’d realized within one session with him that he just needed some one on one time with the material. He grasps the concepts much easier when he has someone to walk him through a few problems at his own pace. 

And he’d been on time to every single one, even early to a couple. Today he even showed up before you, the little eager student that he was. 

You noticed the more time you spent together over the last two weeks and the more comfortable Steve became, the more he liked to tease you and watch you flush red under his stare. 

Like now you’re sitting beside him—you had sat down across from him but he pouted like a child and said it would be easier if you were closer—and he’s complaining about the quadratic formula for the millionth time. 

“We’re almost done, Steve. Two more problems and you’re free to go.” 

“I think I should get a reward for all this.” He would probably stomp his foot at you if he was standing up and you can’t help but huff a small laugh at the little frown he’s wearing, chin in his hand and shoulders slumped in annoyance. 

“You do. You’ll pass the class.”

He’s not amused by this, rolling his eyes and pinching the bare skin of your thigh where your shorts have moved from you shifting in your chair. You watch the spot turn pink and his touch, even something so quick and simple, has you buzzing. 

“Lame. I was thinking more of a kiss, let me have a quick taste of those pretty lips.” No matter how many times he mentions your mouth or how’d you taste it never fails to thrill you, your face heating and your eyes darting everywhere but his. 

It’s even worse when you watch the way he watches you, leaned back in his chair with his thighs spread and a smug look on his face. He’ll flash his teeth at you in a smile and send a quick wink that has you having to stop yourself from sinking between his open legs. He knows what he does to you and he loves it, soaks it up and never gets tired of it. 

You’ve turned back to your own notes, leaving Steve to work on the last few problems and of course he does anything but. It’s only been a few minutes when you feel something brush across your hair, you ignore it. A few seconds later something soft hits your cheek, and you ignore it. But when it hits your forehead you turn to him with a scowl, a little ball of paper between his fingers. 

“You are a child.” You swat at his chest and regret it when he catches your wrist in his hand, skin turning hot under his touch. You can’t look away from where his fingers wrap around you and it makes you dizzy to feel his rough hands against your skin. 

“Hit me again, baby.” 

That was another thing that had started, the pet names. He used your name sometimes, but called you baby, sweetheart, or doll when he wanted to make you stutter your words and stumble through your sentences. 

He’s smirking at you, eyes light and filled with amusement at the way your neck is turning a bright pink, reaching and reaching until your ears are burning. “C’mon, please?” 

“No reward for you if you don’t finish those problems.” Despite the turmoil going on inside your voice sounds cool, unaffected, and you thank god for that. 

“Fine. I can be a good boy when I want to be.” 

Ignoring him, you turn back to your notes, far too distracted to actually pay attention to them anymore but you still stare at the paper in front of you. You’re pleasantly surprised when he actually goes back to his work, finishing the problems quickly and you beam at him when they’re all right. 

“See! I told you, just need to take your time with this stuff. I’m proud of you, Steve.” For once he’s the one blushing, brushing it off like it’s nothing and asking for his reward. You should have known, a child never forgets a promise you make them. 

Leaning forward his eyes widen, darting over your face to check if this is really happening. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, not used to playing his games with him and it takes all the courage you have to let your lips brush over the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, before they find the shell of his ear. He’s still beside you, anticipating your next move and if you weren’t so hell bent on teasing him back, you’d kiss him right now. 

Your lips graze him and it’s your turn to smirk when his grip on the table in front of you tightens. His knuckles are white and his jaw is set with you so close to him. 

“Ice cream. That’s your reward.” 

Pulling back quickly so you can see his reaction, you beam at the way his lips are parted and his chest is heaving a little harder than it should be. He just watches you with wide eyes before something settles over him. Something that makes your stomach flutter and tells you you’ve started something that you won’t win. 

When he speaks you can’t help but watch the way his mouth wraps around the words so sensually you feel it all over, like he’s touching every inch of your skin and it’s addicting. 

“Perfect. M’dying for something sweet.” 

———-

He can’t stop thinking about the feeling of your lips on his skin, even if it lasted all of three seconds it’s running through his mind on a loop and making his head a mess. 

God he wishes you would have just bit down on him, sunk your teeth into his skin and let him feel your tongue soothe the burn. 

You’re walking side by side to your favorite ice cream place now, the sun is out and bright but despite that there’s a nice breeze that cools his skin. You would have already been there but he had to spend fifteen minutes distracting you from leaving just so he could stand up without getting arrested for indecent exposure. 

Remembering the small smile of victory you had makes him smile, but not as big as he’ll be smiling when he gets you back. He loves watching you preen under his touch, loves the way your chest rises and falls a little faster when he leans in towards you and loves even more the way your eyes go all big and round and your cheeks turn bright red when he says something cheeky. 

Spending some time with you over the last two weeks, it’s obvious to him why Robin is so obsessed with you. You’re hilarious, sometimes you make him laugh so hard his stomach hurts and he has tears in his eyes. He’d known you were a sweetheart but getting to see it firsthand gave him a goddamn toothache. Watching the way you smile at him so proudly when something finally clicks, how you listen to someone with such intent, no matter what they’re talking about. You’re just so kind and good that he wants to be as close to you as possible at all times. 

But this is the first time you two are venturing outside of the library together and he thinks he’ll spend much more time convincing you to do things with him besides math. Now that he’s got a taste he needs more, craves it. 

He doesn’t even notice you’ve arrived until you’re tugging on the sleeve of his shirt and giving him a smile as sweet as honey as you wordlessly point at the ice cream shop he’d just walked past.

Pulling open the door he lets you go first and looks around to see only a few people besides them in the shop. Perfect. 

Since there’s no line, you both go quickly. You opt for chocolate chip cookie dough in a cup and he decides on mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone. He notices the way your nose scrunches all cute at his choice and he rolls his eyes as he pulls out his card to pay before you can. 

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who’s gonna say it tastes like toothpaste or something.” Your jaw drops in offense and he has to roll his lips into his mouth to keep from laughing at how cute you are. 

“I wasn’t! I only made that face because I almost got it myself.” 

“And the thought of having a similar taste to me is making you feel sick?” 

“No, just didn’t peg you as a mint chocolate chip guy.” 

“So you’ve been thinking about pegging me.” He knows you’ve realized what you’ve done before the words even leave his mouth and he smirks at you anyways. He’ll take any chance to get you all flustered and riled up. 

“Pay for my damn ice cream, Harrington.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just quietly snickers to himself while you go and find a place to sit. He notices the way you choose a seat in the corner, far away from anyone else in the shop and he smiles. You probably know what’s coming, waiting for the other shoe to drop after your little stunt at the library and he loves seeing you all worked up and on edge. 

He likes it a little too much. 

Instead of sitting in the seat across from you he slips in the booth beside you instead, watching your eyes dart to the side to watch him carefully. He’s not sure why you’re surprised, he always takes any opportunity to be close to you. 

Slinging an arm around your shoulder he lets his fingertips toy with your hair, smiling when he feels you relax into him. “Can I have a bite?” You seem to not think anything of his request, lifting your spoon up to his mouth and he lets you slip it between his lips, your eyes trained on his mouth and his on you. 

He hums around the spoon and lets his teeth catch when you drag it from his mouth. You shake your head at him, leaning slightly against his chest and enjoying the quiet between you too. 

It’s go time. 

“Wanna bite?” He’s looking down at you and you nod sheepishly, leaning forward to meet him halfway when he moves his cone towards your mouth. Right when he reaches your lips he moves the cone an inch over and touches the ice cream against the corner of your mouth. 

Before you can reach for a napkin he grabs your wrist, smiling all innocent when you look at him with confusion in your eyes. “I got it, don’t worry.” 

And when he leans forward and moves his head down to be eye level with you, he smirks at the hitch in your breath when he leans forward and lets his tongue swipe over the sweetness there, his tongue catching the corner of your mouth. 

The spoon clatters on the table between you and he hasn’t moved, face just inches away from yours and his hand isn’t playing with your hair anymore, it’s gripping the back of the booth so tight it hurts. 

“Steve..” A breathless little plea leaves your now clean mouth and it takes everything in him not to go in for another taste. He pulls back just enough to watch your eyes flutter close and your head fall back to lay against his arm that’s still behind you. There’s a shine on your cheek from his spit and he’s so hard he can feel his heartbeat all through his body. 

Despite the cockiness running through him at the way you’ve melted, his voice is quiet and breathless just like yours when he speaks where only you can hear him. “What? Just cleaning you up, messy girl.” 

He feels something cold on his hand and looks down to see his ice cream melting, spilling over the cone and running down his fingers. When he looks back he sees you staring at them too, a look in your eyes that has him reeling. 

If there wasn’t anyone else here he’d have you lick his fingers clean, he can see the way you’re itching to do it.

But there’s more people coming into the shop and he’s seconds away from dragging you into the bathroom so he needs to get you out of here, get into the fresh air and out of the little bubble you’ve created. 

“You ready, Stevie?” He loves when you call him that, it makes his chest feel all warm and he just wants to nuzzle into you when you say it. He must have been staring at you, too busy thinking about how bad he wanted you to do anything else. 

He nods, sliding out of the booth and holding out his now clean hand to you, body buzzing when you take it and he feels your skin against his. You walk out and into the street and the breeze on his skin is a life saver. 

Your apartment is just two blocks away from the ice cream shop and the walk there is quiet, both of you thinking about his tongue so close to your mouth. His hand brushes yours as you walk and he feels his fingers twitch with the need to slip your hands together. 

“Good reward then?” It’s you that breaks the silence and he’s grateful, his heart racing in his chest despite the smug smirk he’s wearing looking down at you. 

“Oh baby, the best.”

—————

You and Steve spend about four days a week together at this point and you’re not convinced he even needs that much tutoring but you don’t complain. You’ll take any chance to spend some time with him. 

The two of you have also decided to forgo the library, taking turns having it at his place or yours and most times you work on actual school stuff for about half an hour before he’s distracting you with a movie or a game or a promise of food. 

It’s been a few weeks since that day at the ice cream shop, where he licked the corner of your mouth and sent you spiraling. Having him that close was overwhelming enough, let alone feeling him on your skin. 

Since then things haven’t changed much, he teases you and sometimes you retaliate but oftentimes you just sit there red faced and let him enjoy how flustered he makes you. He’s still touchy and smug all the time, but hasn’t put his tongue anywhere near you since. Unfortunately. 

Tonight you’re both at your place, you lying out across your couch in a t-shirt and pajama shorts that really don’t fit you anymore but you refuse to get rid of. Steve is on the floor in front of you stretched out and scrolling through his phone while you switch between watching the tv and watching him. 

He’s been less like himself tonight, quiet and there's a little furrow between his brows that has you worried. By this point he’d usually be wrapped around you, playing with your hair or rubbing at your neck. But he’d barely touched you today, barely teased you and you wondered what had happened between yesterday and today that had him so out of sorts. 

Regardless of his mood, he takes time to admire the way your ass peaks out of the bottom of those shorts, his jaw clenching when he gets a peak at the smooth skin there. He can spot where your ass meets your thigh and he wants to bury his face there. 

You're pulled from your thoughts when he sits up, sitting his phone on the edge of the couch beside you and using your thigh to hoist himself off the ground. “Be right back, honey.” 

You just nod, stretching out your legs and trying to memorize how the heat of his palm felt gripping your skin. He goes to the bathroom, the click of the lock sounding out at the same time his phone lights up beside you. 

You don’t mean to look. Really, you planned to call out to him and go back to the shitty reality tv show that was playing in front of you but when you see a name you recognize you can’t help but to look. 

And you immediately regret it. 

Brooke: Are you still coming over tonight? It’s been over a month, I miss you. 

The blood drains from your body and you feel a pit so deep in your stomach you think you might be sick. You know Brooke, everyone knows Brooke. And you don’t keep up with that Steve does but he’s spent most of his time with you for the last month, so you can’t help but wonder if the last time he saw her was the day of his first tutoring session. 

And that should make you feel a little better, should dull the raging jealousy coursing through you but it doesn’t. It doesn’t because from her text, he’s already made plans to go over. Maybe this is why he’s being so weird tonight, he’s ready to go see…her. And then you’re even more upset because it was your idea to hang out tonight and you wish he would have just said no because then you wouldn’t have seen this text and you wouldn’t feel like you’re about to cry. 

You and Steve weren’t together, hadn’t even gone on a date or kissed or been anything more than friends. But that doesn’t mean you haven’t developed this huge crush on him that’s taken over every part of your brain. And the teasing, the touches, they meant something to you. 

Maybe that was your mistake. 

Maybe he’s that way with everyone and you read too much into it. Maybe you’ve spent so much time together because he actually did need that much help with fucking algebra and stuck around because he felt like he owed you or something. 

In a matter of seconds your whole friendship was Steve was up in the air in front of you and you found yourself dissecting every interaction and graze of skin and now you just wanted to curl up into your bed and forget all of it. 

You liked him, a lot more than you would care to admit and for the first time since that first night, you felt uncomfortable being in the same place as him. 

The click of the bathroom lock snaps you from your spiral and you pull yourself off the couch, gathering up trash from the snacks you’d eaten so you don’t have to look him in the eye. And you shouldn’t say anything, should pretend it didn’t happen and figure this out later but you can’t help but let the words slip out when he walks back into your living room. 

“Got a text while you were in the bathroom.” He doesn’t say anything but doesn’t really have the chance because you’re rushing into the kitchen and deciding that now is the best time to do those dishes you meant to do before he came over. 

Hopefully he’ll just…go. You know he won’t but maybe that would be easier if you didn’t have to see him again tonight or smell him or touch him. The water is hot, too hot to be sticking your hands under but scrubbing at this plate is all that’s keeping the tears that are building from falling down your cheeks. 

“Y/n…” He’s behind you now, close enough that you can feel his presence and you know if you just took one step back you’d be pressed up against his chest, you’d feel the warmth that always comes from him. So you stay where you are, the edge of the sink digging into your stomach but you try and scoot closer to it anyways. 

A noncommittal hum is all he gets from you. You don’t move your head to look at him, you can’t because if you do you’re not sure you won’t cry. And you can’t let him see you cry over something that was never there. 

“Can you look at me? Please?” His voice is low and sweet, a hint of a plea in his tone that makes your insides twist painfully. You just shake your head, scrubbing at this plate so hard you’re worried it might snap in your grip. 

His hand is on your shoulder now and a shaky breath escapes your lips, the tears building behind your eyes and you will them away. There's nothing to cry over. He’s your friend. That’s all. “If you need to leave, that’s fine. Seriously it’s—you can go if you want.” Your voice cracks the slightest bit, but he notices. Of course he does. 

“Sweetheart, look at me.” 

Your chest hurts at the endearment and you squeeze your eyes shut tight because you know he’s wearing that puppy dog look he does so well. You know his eyes are round and full of concern, or even worse, pity. You know his bottom lip is jutting out in a pout and it makes you want to take the plate you’ve scrubbed clean and smash it into a million pieces. 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Steve, it’s that he won’t give in. He’ll stand behind you all night, miss his date with Brooke if that’s what it takes. He won’t give up until you’re looking at him, but you don’t know why. Don’t know why he wants to see you upset. But you turn around anyways, cheeks blotchy and a sheen of tears ready to fall at any given moment. 

His lips part softly and his hands are hovering between you, not sure if he should reach over and touch you. “It’s not—she’s not…I don’t want to leave.” 

“Okay.” 

“I don’t know why I even made the plans in the first place! I’d rather be here with you anyways.” 

“Okay.” 

He’s pacing in front of you now, hands fisted in his hair and he looks like he’s freaking out, chewing on his bottom lip and mumbling under his breath while you just stand there and stare at your feet on the floor. 

“I’ve just been…my mind has been fucked lately and I don’t know what I even think anymore and I do stupid shit when I don’t know what do to.” 

“Okay, Steve.” 

“Are you just gonna keep saying okay?” He’s stopped pacing, the stare he’s wearing keeps you still in place against the sink and you feel like shrinking under his gaze. 

“What do you want me to say? If you want to go hang out with her, you can! You’re an adult, Steve. You don’t have to spend all your time with me.” 

“But I want to.” Heart thudding hard in your chest you try to make sense of what he’s saying, what he’s not saying. He’s giving you something, dancing around what he wants to say and you won’t give yourself false hope, won’t read too far into this. You’ve become friends, best friends even and you don’t want to fuck that up. 

“Then stay.” 

You should talk about this, you know it and he knows it. You should get everything out in the open so there’s no more secret plans and unshed tears but you don’t. Instead he nods at you, coming closer and wrapping his arms around you so you’re nuzzled against his chest. Neither of you say anything, just sit there wrapped up in each other for who knows how long before he pulls back and tugs you to the living room, sitting down and pulling you into his side with no words spoken between you. 

The show drones on around you, but you’re not paying attention. Your mind is too busy, too many thoughts swirling around to even try and focus on anything but him. He sinks down further into the couch and you move with him, your head resting against his chest and his hand lying still on your hip. 

“M’sorry I made you sad. Never want to do that, you’re too pretty to cry over me, too sweet.” 

You just nod against him, closing your eyes and feeling the thump of his chest on your cheek. He doesn’t say anything else and you’re grateful. 

————-

It’s been almost a week since that night in your apartment. A week since Steve got that text and you almost lost your shit. A week since you realized how deep your feelings for him actually ran. 

When you had woken up that next day Steve was still there, hand still on your hip with his head thrown back in what couldn’t be comfortable as he slept beside you. He woke up soon after and both of you just…pretended it hadn’t happened. The last week had been normal, so normal you’d convinced yourself that night was some sort of glitch. 

Steve continued to spend most of his days with you, continued to flash those smug grins your way when he sees something inappropriate and you continue to flush under his stare, preen under his praise and stick to his side like glue. 

That’s how you are now, sprawled under that same big tree Steve had come to apologize to you under all those weeks ago. He’s sitting up with his legs stretched out in front of him and your head is on his lap, Eddie beside you hunched over and working on something you can’t see, Robin beside Steve with a book she’s not reading in her hand. 

He’d also been spending more time with the three of you and it made your heart warm. All your favorite people getting along and hanging out.

“We should all go to Lansdowne this weekend.” That suggestion couldn’t have come from anyone but Steve. Eddie scrunches his nose at the thought immediately, tongue sticking out like it left a bad taste in his mouth. Robin groans like she’s physically pained by the thought. 

“Now don’t sound too excited.” Lansdowne was a little pub near Fenway Park that Steve was obsessed with. They usually had live music and were packed to the brim with bodies every weekend. Robin and Eddie despised it, always too crowded for their liking. 

“I’ll go, Steve. But you’re buying my first drink.” 

“That’s my girl!” He patted your head like you were a puppy, grin wide as he turned to stick out his tongue at Eddie and Robin who just rolled their eyes dramatically and went back to ignoring whatever Steve would ramble on about next. 

Neither of you noticed the way Eddie and Robin watched you, knowing smiles on both their faces as they took the sight of you two in. They watched Steve brush your hair out of your face, a look of fondness on his face that Robin hasn’t seen him show anyone before. They watch you snuggle into him, content and comfort written all over your features. 

————-

There was a small bit of regret about quickly agreeing to go out with Steve. Friday came before you knew it and you were tired, so tired from a long week of school and work. It seemed like everything that could have gone wrong this week, did and it had you mentally and physically drained. 

The temptation to text Steve and bail was clawing at you, but you couldn’t. Usually spending time with him was something that made you feel better, so you hoped that was the case tonight. 

It was nice out, not too hot but just warm enough to indulge in summer clothes. Dressing up for tonight was out of the question, you needed to be comfy if you were going to be squished against sweaty bodies and pulled through big crowds. 

That was how you found yourself now, tucked into Steve’s side at the bar at 11pm with a short denim skirt snug around your hips that you’d found in the back of your drawer and a cropped pink t-shirt that molded to your chest. A few inches of skin showed above your skirt and the feel of Steve’s palm resting there had you blushing already. 

You were both three drinks in, a nice buzz in your veins that had you giggling into his chest without embarrassment. When you’d seen him tonight, you knew you were going to need some liquid reinforcements to survive. He’d been wearing a dark green button up that he left undone, tight white tank top underneath that showed the outline of his chest. A pair of light wash denim jeans cinched around his waist with a belt. 

There might have been an audible gulp at the sight of him, but with three dirty shirley’s pumping through you, you eyed him up without care, taking in every inch of him with a palpable hunger. 

His breath is hot against your skin when he leans down to try and whisper in your ear, but ends up talking much louder than he meant to. “Forgot to mention it’s karaoke night.” 

“I am not participating in that.” 

That little frown he does when he doesn’t get his way pops up, lips pouted at you like you’d stolen his candy. “Why not?” 

“Between the two of us you’re the rockstar, Harrington, not me.” 

Before he could open his mouth to argue, someone called his name from across the bar, a man holding a clipboard that looked less than impressed with his job. Somehow in the short time you’d been here Steve had gotten his name down on the list for karaoke without you knowing, and it was his turn now. 

He gave you a quick wink that had you almost melting before him, a small smirk as he squeezed your shoulder and started to push his way through the crowds of people. “Eyes on me, baby.” 

Liked you’d be able to look anywhere else. 

You watch him hop up on the small stage that’s only a few feet tall, no hint of nervousness on his face as he smiles at the small crowd that’s paying attention to him. There’s lights focused on him and you think he was made to be in the spotlight with how good he looks up there. You’re somewhere in the middle of the crowd but he spots you easily, winking before he strips off his button down, tossing it to the side of him. 

The sight of him up there with his tank top tucked nicely into his jeans does little to help with the fuzziness you were already feeling from the drinks. You’re careful not to drool at his arms on display, bulging slightly when he lifts them to grip his hands around the mic. 

“Hello, Boston!” 

You’d think this was his personal show the way the crowd cheered back at him, encouraging what you know was nothing but mischievous behavior. He’s getting the attention of more of the bar the longer he stands up there and you can’t blame them, he’s a sight to see. 

“You all look beautiful tonight!” 

A laugh bubbles out of you when the beginning notes of Mr. Brightside by the Killers boom from the speakers behind him, not sure why you expected anything else from him. 

He’s practically bouncing on his heels as he sings the first few notes—and so is his hair. But your laughter and amusement is quickly replaced by something fiery and strong that builds in your stomach as you watch him. 

His hands are wrapped around the microphone in front of him, eyes screwed shut when he gets to the chorus and you feel like you’re on fire. During a pause his head is thrown back, throat bobbing for everyone to see and you try to trace the beads of sweat running down his throat from your spot in the middle of the bar. 

When he starts singing again—and fuck he’s good—his eyes are open and on yours, coming so close to the microphone you can see the way his lips pucker against it on certain notes and you’re thankful it’s so packed in here, the people around you keeping you from falling to the ground. 

Jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis

But it's just the price I pay, destiny is calling me

Open up my eager eyes, 'cause I'm Mr. Brightside

About seven feet are between you but with the bright lights shining on him you watch in awe as his raspberry lips wrap around the words and his tongue swipes out and darts across them every few seconds. He looks ethereal on that stage, hair slicked back from running his fingers through it and hips rocking side to side in time with the beat. 

His voice is pure silk and honey, like he was born to sing this song and it has your heart racing so fast in your chest it’s hard to catch your breath. He’s jumping around, putting on a noteworthy performance while the patrons around you yell and dance with him. 

Every once in a while his nose bumps against the mic and you can’t get over how alluring he looks with his lips grazing the mic. He’s captivating, stealing the attention of almost everyone in the room now and your heart swells in your chest. 

It takes you a second longer to realize the song has ended, cheers and hollering making your ears ring as he basks in the attention on stage. You can see that cocky smirk from here, his eyes dark and cheeks red as he blows you a kiss when he catches your eyes again. 

Maybe you could use another drink after all. 

 —————

Steve was sweaty from karaoke, his hair sticking to his forehead and neck, button up he’d been wearing thrown somewhere and he was sure he’d never see it again. The tank top he wore was clinging to his skin and he wished he could peel it off, the stickiness in the air of the bar doing nothing to cool him down. 

But he saw the way you watched him up there, your eyes trained on his mouth or his hands the whole time and it made him feel electric. The way you licked your lips like he was your next meal could have him on his knees for you in an instant. 

He’d lost you when he got off the small stage, eyes searching through the crowd and sighing in relief when he finds you standing by the bar, chin in your palm as you swirl your drink around. 

That relief is short-lived when he sees some douche come up beside you, a charming grin plastered on his face and his eyes dark as he takes you in. Steve sees red when he places one of his hands on your waist, his palm touching your bare skin since you’d chosen a crop top for tonight. 

Possessiveness stirs in his belly, hands fisted at his side at the laugh you give him. It’s fake, he can tell, but it still makes his jaw clench uncomfortably. 

You’re not interested in this guy, he can see that. You’ve leaned back enough to create some space between the two of you and your eyes dart around the bar quickly and he knows you’re looking for him. 

Little did you know that even if you weren’t looking for him, he’d still be there. He’d always be there. Couldn’t keep himself away from you even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. He’d become addicted to your strawberry scent and your sweet little giggles. He’d become addicted to you. 

It’s when this asshole lifts his hand to brush a piece of your hair away from your face that Steve starts to move, shoulders shoving through the crowd with ease and he sees the way your body relaxes when you catch sight of him heading towards you. 

The thought of someone else touching your skin, feeling how smooth it is and how it warms up under their touch has him gritting his teeth. His jaw twitches thinking about you looking up at someone besides him with stars in your eyes. 

When he’s within reach he lays his hand on your exposed thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh there and placing a quick kiss on your forehead. “Told ya I’d be right back, doll.” He doesn’t acknowledge the man beside him, eyes focused on yours. 

Your thighs clamp shut around his hand and a devious smirk plays on his lips at the feeling. “Who’s this?” He cocks his head towards the man that had been trying to talk to you, not looking his way but finally acknowledging his presence. Douchebag is still there, watching the scene unfold in front of him with little amusement. 

“I-I don’t know. We were just talking.” Steve hums at you, eyes drinking in the little drops of sweat rolling down your neck and down your shirt. He’s itching to lean forward and collect them on his tongue, to taste any part of you he can get his hands on. 

You yelp when his fingers pinch at your inner thigh, hands coming up to grip his forearm in surprise. He doesn’t miss the way your hips shifted forward though, searching for his touch instinctively. 

“Don’t want these boys talking to you, do you?” He’s leaning closer to you but still talking loud enough that the prick who can’t take a hint can hear him. You shake your head quickly and he smiles. “It’s because you’re my girl, isn't it baby? Want them to know you’re mine to take home, mine to play with, mine to keep.” 

At this point he’s not even talking for the benefit of saving you from some creep in a bar, you both know that. He’s not just staking his claim so they’ll leave you alone, he’s telling you the truth, what you both already know but refuse to talk about. He’s yours as much as you are his. It’s been that way for weeks. 

For him it’s been that way since you ripped him a new one, tore into him for being an asshole with your big round eyes that twitched in anger at his attitude. 

You’re nodding at him with blown out eyes, thighs still keeping his hand trapped between them. The guy you’d been talking to is long gone but neither of you seem to notice or care. 

“So say it.” His lips are tilted in a smirk, knowing eyes watching you shift and squirm under his stare. He feels himself thickening in his pants, head of his cock pressed up against the zipper painfully but he doesn’t care. He’d stand here in pain all night if you kept looking at him like that. 

“I’m your girl.” 

His chest swells with pride, grinning down at you and watching you just eat up the unsaid praise. You’re blooming under his gaze, chest puffing out the slightest bit and his mouth waters. 

It’s hard to breathe when you’re looking at him like that. His stomach feels tight and a feeling he can’t quite describe takes over. He wants to feel your skin on his, to taste you, smell you, anything you’ll give him. But he also feels like he could be sick, just looking at you being too much for him right now. 

He uses his thumb to tap on your thigh so you’ll open them for him, pulling his hand out and tugging on your wrist to pull you back to the middle of the dance floor. Your obedience thrills him, makes his spine tingle and heart race. He should’ve known you were a good girl, the best one really. You don’t even question him as he grips your hips in his hand, pulling you flush against him while the music booms around you. 

Neither of you are really moving, just standing there pressed together while bodies push and move around you. One hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer so that he can lean down and talk in your ear where you’ll hear him. 

“Saw the way you were watching me up on the stage earlier.” 

Your hands are clinging to his shirt and he feels your grip tighten, smiling knowingly against your ear. He loved the way you watched him, the way your eyes never left him like you were mesmerized. 

“You looked good up there, like a natural.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Hmm, my rockstar.” 

The praise shoots down his spine and makes his body buzz. He’s watching the way your hair flows over your shoulder and he wants to tug on it, make your head fall back and expose your throat to him. 

You pressed against him mixed with the sticky air surrounding you is too much, his head feels fuzzy and he’s seconds away from biting on your lips and licking into your mouth. 

“Let’s get out of here.” 

———————

In hindsight, deciding to take the train at 1 am on a Friday night was a stupid idea. Anyone and everyone in the city chose that time to pile on. For a second you’re worried you’ll lose Steve in the crowd of people but a few seconds later you feel his fingers slip through yours and tug you to his side. 

“Can’t risk losing my precious cargo.” 

The ringing in your ears is either from the feel of his skin touching yours or the tell tale screech of the train approaching. When it pulls up in front of you, your cringe at how crowded it already is, forehead covered in a sheen of sweat before you even step on. The doors open and Steve is pulling you through the bunches of people, tugging you through and moving you to stand in front him when he sees an opening. 

Your back is pressed against the opposing doors and you sigh in relief at the coolness it provides. That relief is short lived when you peek over Steve’s shoulder to see more people piling on. He presses closer to you to make room and your heart thuds harshly against your chest. 

His feet are spread slightly to be on either side of yours, arms over your head to hold on to the railing and it feels like he’s caging you in. He’s pressed up against you completely, your chin touching his chest and lips hover near your forehead. 

It doesn’t help that his arms are on full display, button up he was wearing long gone since before karaoke and instead adorned in a white tank top that’s like a second skin. It’s hugging his chest and waist and it’s taking everything in you not to lean forward and nip at his arm. 

And then you’re thinking about how he looked on stage. Pure sex as he captivated the crowd with his effortless charm and talent. You think you could watch him like that forever. 

Fuck. All you could feel was him, his breath on your skin and his body keeping yours snug against the doors. You’re not sure you could even move, not that you wanted to. Tilting your head back an inch you look up at him, eyes glancing over his strawberry mouth that’s tilted into a smirk, looking up further to see how he’s watching you closely. 

Honey eyes staring into yours scream mischief and when you breathe in you feel your knees falter, a sweetness washing over your senses. Just the smell of him was enough to have your skin tingling, hints of cherry and vanilla from where you were practically nuzzled against his throat. 

Your hand was wrapped tightly against the pole in front of you and the feel of the cool metal against your palm did little to help with the heat you felt burning through your chest. The train lurched forward and the hand that was dangling by your side shot out to fist at the fabric of Steve’s shirt. The fucking white tank top he was wearing. 

“Eager, are we?” His tone was teasing and when you took a quick glance down to see a sliver of his stomach showing where you had his shirt tight in your grasp, your thighs squeezed together involuntarily. 

“Oh please.You just happened to be the closest thing to me, Harrington.” 

He feigned offense, knowing smirk never leaving his face and you stifled a groan when you felt his stomach twitch against your hand. You thought that if you had to be pressed against him for much longer you might just pass out. 

When you look up to see you still have a few stops before yours, you release your grip on his shirt and try not to notice the disappointment that floods through you when your hold on him is gone. He seems to notice too, eyebrows furrowing for a split second before his expression goes back and he’s smiling down at you again. 

“Ya know,” He tilts his head to the side like he’s wondering about something important but his expression holds nothing good. “You look good like this, pressed up against me all flushed and pretty.” 

Arousal seeps down your spine and curls around your belly like a boa constrictor, your throat all of a sudden dry and you can’t seem to do anything but blink up at him. 

“Going dumb already? You really are precious cargo.” 

You have about an ounce of self control left and that’s what keeps you from letting a whimper slip into the sticky air between you. You know he can read your emotions on your face but you try and school your features anyways, lifting your leg that’s trapped between his and pressing your weight down on his foot. 

It just makes his sickly sweet smile even bigger and your breath hitches when he leans down to press his lips against the shell of your ear. You dig your fingertips into your palm when he lets his tongue swipe against his bottom lip and it catches your skin as it does. 

“Trying to hurt me, baby? Why don’t you bite me next? Pretty please?” He brings his hand up between you as he talks, uses his thumb to swipe at your bottom lip and if you weren’t on the fucking train you’d part your lips for him and take his thumb into your mouth. You think you want that a little too much to be so close to him right now. 

For the first time since you’ve moved here, the train is your saving grace. The doors pull open and the cool air of the night hits you, breaking you from whatever little trance Steve had put you under. It clears out enough that he can step to your side now, giving you some much needed space to try and get yourself together. 

The chatter around you has died down and while you feel marginally more in control of yourself, the smell of Steve and the feel of his arm brushing against yours beside you is enough to keep you on your toes. 

“Cooling down over there?” 

“Yes actually, no thanks to you.” 

He shrugs his shoulders innocently and if he hadn’t just been whispering in your ear about liking the pain then you might actually believe the sweet look he was wearing on his face. “Oops.” 

The next stop is yours and while you’re trying to figure out if Steve is coming with you or if you’re gonna have to figure out some weird goodbye, he’s already five steps ahead. When the train comes to a stop and the doors open he’s grabbing your hand again and pulling you out of the train and into the breeze that cools the sweat on your neck. 

“M’gonna walk you home, okay?” You nod wordlessly, letting your hands swing gently between you as you make your way through the now quiet streets. Everyone is either deep into the city until the bars close or already tucked away in their beds after a long work week. Few people litter the streets but you don’t hear much besides the buzz of the train pulling away and the soft hum coming from the person beside you. 

It doesn’t take long before you reach your building nestled in between two others that look just like it and while you fumble through your bag for your keys you feel his gaze burning into the side of your face. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left the bar.” 

A noncommittal hum is all you give him and he’s not a fan of that, reaching forward and plucking your apartment key from between your fingers before you even register what’s happening. You reach out automatically but he’s pulling back and out of your reach. 

“Why?” 

“Why what?” You know what he’s asking and you’re just making this harder for the both of you but he’s had you so on edge since he got on stage and was all…rockstar and sex that you’re scared about what might come out of your mouth if you’re not careful. 

“Why have you been so quiet since we left the bar?” 

“Not much to say I guess…”

“Bullshit.” 

You blink at him owlishly, lips parted in surprise but you can’t deny the little tingle that starts at your toes and makes its way up your body at him calling you out. “Excuse me?” Your voice sounds pathetic and breathless to your own ears at this point so you can only imagine how you look to Steve right now. 

“I call bullshit. Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you blush every time you make eye contact or you look at my arms,” Fuck he caught you. “Or the way you clench those pretty thighs everytime I whisper in your ear or get a little too close to you.” 

Your chest is rising and falling harshly and if he wasn’t taking up every inch of your brain right now you’d be embarrassed by how he had you panting at him. Any confusion he had vanishes and you curse yourself for being so easy for him to read. Like a fucking open book. 

“Oh that’s it. Scared of what might come out of that pouty little mouth, aren’t you? You listen to me talk to you all sweet and dirty and it just makes you all dumb, doesn’t it? S’cute. You’re cute.”

“Shut up! You…you idiot.” It was a weak attempt at a comeback and you felt yourself scrunch your nose at yourself while Steve chuckled. He stepped closer, his hands on his hips as he looked down at you. 

“That’s the best you got?” You were toe to toe now—literally—and you felt yourself shrinking under his gaze. You hated how good he was at making you squirm, how you felt his words on your skin like standing under the sun in the summer heat. But most of all you despised that you didn’t hate it at all.

“You’re an asshole, you know that? A big one.” 

He flashed his teeth at you, hand going up to his chest like your words hurt him. “Oooh there ya go, that’s a little better. But if you’re gonna call me names, I’ve got some you can try. How about dadd—”

“Steve!” You practically hissed at him, smacking his shoulder and huffing like a child at the way he laughed loudly at your expense. He laughed so hard there were little crinkles in the corner of his eyes, grin so big his dimples popped out and you had to stop yourself from poking at it. 

“Alright, alright. No need to get violent, baby. At least take me to dinner first.” Rolling your eyes you snatched your key from him while he was occupied, turning to your door and muttering under your breath. Asshole. Jerk. Moron. Hot. Hot. Hot. 

He laid his hand on your shoulder softly to get your attention and when you turned back he was rolling his lips together, trying to keep his amusement at bay for your sake. He had a way of doing that you’d noticed, looking like a little puppy dog when he wanted to. You hated how much it worked. 

“M’done, I swear. For tonight at least. Thanks for coming out with me, I had a lot of fun.” 

“I did too, even if you’re a pest.” 

“Oh c’mon, you love it.” I do. God I love it so much it’s kind of sick. 

“In your dreams, Harrington,” You knew you set yourself up when he opened his mouth, that gleam in his eye that meant nothing but trouble. You beat him to it though, and the little pout he wore made you melt. “Text me when you get home safe, okay? And thanks for walking me home.” 

“Anytime, sweetheart.” 

Reaching up like he was going to sweep you hair out of your eyes, he must’ve changed his mind because he pinched your cheek instead, laughing to himself when you grumbled at him and smacked his hand away. 

You’d watched as he walked away, watched until you couldn’t see him anymore before you finally went inside, trudging up the stairs to your apartment and feeling your nerves settle once you were finally alone.

It was like you could breathe again, that ache you’d felt all night still thumping but more dull now than it had been in his presence. You finally felt cool and relaxed. Until your phone buzzed about twenty minutes later. 

Steve: Made it home safe and sound. Not a scratch on me.

Steve: Well besides the ones you left on me when you were pawing at me on the train! 

Y/n: Idiot! 

Steve: We really need to work on expanding your vocabulary. Maybe I could tutor you. :)

Steve: Whoops I meant ;), it’s hard to type one handed. 

You gasped and you swear you’d just burst into flames from how hot your face felt staring down at your phone. Was he…he wouldn’t. But did you mind if he did? No. Fuck, no. But you couldn’t just let him know that. 

Y/n: Steve Harrington you are sick! 

Steve: What?? I’m eating cereal and texting you! Trying to multitask here. 

Steve: Get your mind out of the gutter you filthy girl. 

He’d played you and you took the bait so easily! At this point you should know he’d take any opportunity to embarrass you, you both knew you loved it. He loved getting you all flushed and squirmy and you loved pretending like it didn’t light you up inside. 

Now you were thinking about him touching himself, your thighs sore from squeezing together and your heart racing. You wanted to know how he looked doing it, what he sounded like…Jesus Christ you needed to get a grip. It wasn’t until your phone buzzed in your hand that you realized you hadn’t texted him back. 

Steve: Your cheeks are all hot, aren’t they?

Oh fuck off. 

Y/n: No! They have no reason to be! 

Steve: Oh they definitely are. You’re all hot and bothered thinking about me only using one hand to text you. You’ve got a dirty mind!

He was taunting you, you knew that. Baiting you and wrapping it up with a nice shiny bow. And you’d take it every time. 

Y/n: You knew what you were doing! You set me up. 

Steve: Little ol’ me? As if I’d ever do such a thing! I’m offended you’d even suggest that. 

Just imagining the shit eating grin he was wearing riled you up even more, your blood pumping and your fingers twitching as you typed furiously back to him. 

Y/n: Playing innocent won’t work with me, Harrington. I know your tricks and they only make my cheeks red because they piss me off! Go fuck yourself, idiot! 

Steve: You wanna watch? ;) 

You thought about throwing your phone at the wall, watching it smash into a thousand tiny pieces and letting every trace of that arrogant, smug, hot asshole wash away. But you were not so secretly relishing in the back and forth, your tummy a ball of excitement. 

Y/n: In your dreams. 

His reply was instant and it made you fist your bed sheets tight, toes curling in your socks and if you were standing you’d be sure to fall to your knees. 

Steve: Oh you know it, baby. 

Steve: Maybe next time. You’ve been a dirty girl calling me all those mean names. Come kiss it better?

When a picture came in seconds after his last reply you dropped your phone to your bed, eyes wide and pulse thumping in your ears as you took in the image before you. 

Steve lying on his bed, shirtless. He was lying against his navy blue pillowcase, one arm thrown behind his head and he showed just enough of his torso for you to see a patch of chest hair that made your fingernails dig so deep into your palm you were surprised you didn’t draw blood. His hair was tousled like he’d tugged at it and his mouth held the most perfect little pout. You assumed that’s what you were supposed to be kissing better. 

It had been several minutes since you’d moved so it didn’t make sense why your breathing was so heavy and why there was sweat gathering at the base of your neck. All you could think of was leaving your mark over his chest and shoulders, deep purple spots that you know he’d wear with a proud smile on his face. 

If he could see you now…you’d never hear the end of it. 

Y/n: Meh. 

He must have been sitting there waiting for your reply, the three little dots popping up almost instantly after you hit send. 

Steve: Meh???? 

Steve: It took you 10 minutes to reply with meh??

Steve: Liar. 

A sick satisfaction coursed through you and you felt a small sense of victory reading his replies. If you didn’t know any better you’d say Steve was a little upset at your lack of reaction. 

Y/n: It took me 10 minutes because I wasn’t waiting by my phone for your reply. And I’m not a liar, just not overly impressed. 

You were a liar. A huge lying liar who was only able to do this over text because if he was in front of you’d have been stumbling over your words and blushing like an idiot. 

And that little victory you had lasted all of 2 minutes because when your phone started ringing, that ball of dread from forever ago came barreling back into you harder and faster than before. 

Pressing accept you held the phone up to your ear and tried to get your breathing under control. You were gonna blow your cover quickly if you didn’t. 

“H-hello?” 

“Not impressed, hm?” There was an edge to his voice, one you didn’t recognize but it had a sense of sternness, of authority that had your hands twitching in your lap. 

“Nope. Sorry.” The words practically squeaked out of you, the less you said the better when it came to Steve. If you spoke too much he’d be able to know what you were thinking, he probably already did. You swore he had some magical powers or something. 

“Really? And you’re sure? I only ask because earlier just looking at my arms had you panting like a dog at my feet.” 

Your face burned with humiliation and you cursed yourself for the way it turned you on. Fuck. Any control you had was quickly unraveling and falling apart in front of you. 

“Steve, I—”

“Because when it took you so long to reply, you know what I thought? I thought you’d slipped your hand into your panties like some perv. That was my theory, but I can admit it when I’m wrong.” 

“I-I wasn’t! I’m not I just—”

“But you thought about it, didn’t you?” 

And well of course you had. How could you not when he looked like he did and when you could practically hear him in your ear whispering filthy, teasing things. 

You pictured him now, standing at the foot of your bed with his shirt off and his hands on his hips. How he’d shake his head at you, scolding you like a teacher scolding their student for not doing their homework. You can hear the smirk in his voice as he riles you up and it leaves you reeling. 

“I, well I—”

“Just a yes or no, doll. Did you think about it?” 

“Yes.” It comes out in a whisper, hanging in the air and you should want to take it back, to tell him no and hang up but you don’t. You sit there and bask in it, the embarrassment, the arousal. You sit and wait for him to give you something—like a dog waiting for a treat. 

“That’s what I thought. Now that we’ve got that settled, I’m beat! You’ve kept me up far past my bedtime. Goodnight, perv. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

Before you can get a word out, a plea or a curse or anything he’s hanging up the phone and leaving you with your mouth hanging open and an ache so intense it makes your head spin. 

Idiot. Asshole. Jerk. Hot. Hot. Hot. 

He’s left you speechless, sitting there still on your bed with your phone in your hand and your mind running a thousand miles a minute. You’re aching and wet, embarrassingly wet, and you feel a need for him so deep in your bones it’s making you feel insane. 

A knock on your front door startles you, it’s harsh and quick and your pulse spikes immediately. Holding your phone in your hand you make your way through the living room, a seed of worry nestled in your stomach because who would be here knocking on your door at almost 3 am. 

Who besides Steve, of course. 

Just as you’re moving close to look through the peephole, he calls your name from the other side of the door. Excitement pools low in your belly, hairs on your arm standing tall at the promise of him just inches away. Pulling open the door you’re met with the same Steve you’d left just a short time ago, but now he’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts that hang low on his hips and his hair is still damp from the shower you’re sure he’s taken. A pink t-shirt is stretched over his broad shoulders and there’s a simple silver chain hanging around his neck. 

How does he always look this good? You don’t say anything, opting to step to the side and allow him through and he steps in wordlessly, giving your arm a squeeze when he passes by. 

Closing the door behind him, you watch as he makes his way to your room and you stand there dumbfounded, wondering what the fuck is going on and why he hasn’t said a word to you after showing up at your door at 3 am. 

Following him is a simple choice, one that leads you to your room to see Steve sitting on the edge of your bed with his legs spread wide, hands behind him flat on the comforter while he leans back the slightest bit. He’s stunning and it has you fighting the urge to sing to your knees on the carpet in front of him. 

It feels like a staring contest between the two of you. But instead of looking in your eyes, Steve is letting his gaze run over your body. You’re in an oversize shirt that reaches about mid thigh, nothing underneath but a pair of panties that Steve ruined hours ago. 

He finally meets your eyes, a small smile tugging up at the corners of his mouth that makes you feel jittery. “W-what are you doing here?” You can’t help but to stumble over your words when he’s looking at you like that. Like he could take a bite out of you. 

“What do you think?” 

“Missed me already, Harrington?” 

“Always.” Some of the smugness he carries with him has melted away with the admission and it makes your heart swell in your chest. The thought of him missing you provides a surge of warmth through your body. 

“I missed you too,” Your voice is timid, his stare making you feel exposed to him, “but I thought you were going to bed.” 

“Well that was my plan, but I couldn’t fall asleep knowing you were over here making a mess because of me and not come help clean it up.” 

Your toes curl into the carpet below you and you hope it will be able to ground you a little when you feel so…you don’t even know what you feel. Your stomach is twisting and your palms are sweaty and you can feel your heartbeat in your ears. 

One of his hands lifts to motion you forward and you do so without hesitation, your feet carrying you to him instantly. When you get close enough you go to get on your knees instinctively and he stops you with a small, proud smile. “No, no, I’m here to take care of you, baby.” And while the notion fills you with excitement, you can’t help but feel a little upset that you won’t get to put your mouth on him. 

And of course this just makes him smile even bigger, eyes bright as he takes in your frown and can’t help but shake his head at you. 

“Before we do anything I just…I want you to know I care about you, yeah? This isn’t some one night thing for me. I want everyday with you, everyday that you’ll give me.” 

“I care about you too, Steve. I think that was obvious when I scrubbed all the paint off that plate after I saw that text on your phone,” He huffs a small laugh at you, hands settled on your hips, “You’ve become such an important part of my life and I—I like you a lot, even when you’re mean to me.” 

He scoffs like the idea is foreign, playful glint in his eye the whole time and it drives you crazy. He has that look, the one that tells you he’s about to say something that will either make you hit him or drop back down to your knees. 

“Come give daddy a kiss then.” 

It’s the former, hand coming up to smack at his chest hard despite the way the name makes your stomach clench and your spine tingle. He just laughs, loud and steady, pulling you down onto his lap and smashing his lips against yours. 

His lips are just as soft as you’d dreamed about, full and slick with spit and you feel yourself pulse when he smiles into the kiss. His nose bumps with yours, his hands sliding from your waist to your hair and letting his fingers tug and pull while you push closer to him. 

“Fuck—you taste so good.” You don’t even realize the words come from you until you feel Steve groan against you, tongue sweeping across your bottom lip as if to taste you too. 

When you finally have to pull back for air, your forehead is pressed against his and you both try and catch your breath. He looks like a dream, mouth shiny and swollen, eyes glazed over as he takes you in. He tastes sweet, the kind of taste you crave at the end of the day or when you need a pick me up. Or just because. 

He’s shifted back a little so you’re not hanging off him and the edge of the bed, your thighs wrapped around his hips and your chests almost touching from how close you are. He’s tugging at the ends of your shirt, trying to pull it off but it’s trapped between your thighs and his. You lean up just enough for him to pull it free, tugging it over your head with ease. 

What you’ve managed to forget in the heat of the moment, what Steve doesn’t know but is quick to find out is the little secret no one but Robin knows about—and she only knows because you needed moral support. 

“Oh holy fuck,” You’ve never seen his eyes so wide and his mouth is dropped open so big it’s almost kind of scary. Somehow you’d forgotten your nipples were pierced, maybe it was from Steve kissing you stupid, you’re not sure. But he’s looking at your tits now like he’s got gold in front of him. 

Your mouth opens to tease him but before you can speak he’s moving his hand to cover your mouth, eyes never leaving your boobs and you have to laugh against him. 

“Don’t—you can’t say a thing right now or I’ll cum in my pants.” He sounds so serious, so pained that you whine against his hand all greedy and impatient. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, doll. Think I could cum from just lookin’ at em for too long.” 

You nod eagerly against his hand, the idea of that turning you on even more than you thought possible. He finally removes his hand but only because he can’t hold out on touching you any longer. His palms come up to cup your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples and you sigh in relief at the feeling of his touch. He uses two fingers to tug gently at the little silver barbell that runs through them, watching your face for your reaction and you don’t disappoint. Your mouth falls open, a small moan slipping out and your hands grip his shoulders tight. 

“Fuck me. God you’re perfect, so pretty and sweet for me. Shit, m’losing my goddamn mind here, baby.” Half his words are almost slurred, attention moving between your tits and your face as he tugs and thumbs at your nipples. The furrow in his brow makes him look genuinely concerned and you throb at the thought of him being so mesmerized by you. 

He’s so occupied with your pretty tits in his face he doesn’t notice when you slide back a little, a few inches of space between you now. You’ve been soaked and aching for far too long and you think if he doesn’t touch you in the next few seconds you might cry. 

You move one of your hands to grab his, tugging it from your nipple and sliding it down between you to press against the front of your panties. They’re messy, your thighs sticky and you hope he understands your not so subtle hint. 

He does, cursing at the feel of how wet and hot you are even through the thin layer separating him from you. “Poor thing, didn’t even know someone could be this messy.” Your hips shift, desperately trying to get his fingers to catch on your clit. “Who made you this desperate, huh? Was it that prick from the bar?” 

You’re shaking your head but it’s not enough for him, hand moving away and you gasp, pulling it back and giving him what he wants. “You. It’s you—you did this to me.” 

Instead of saying anything he dips his fingers past the band of your panties, both of you groaning at the contact. He circles your clit twice, thighs twitching around him before he’s dipping down to your sopping hole, teasing his finger there before swiping through your slit to collect some of the slick that’s there. 

You want to whine when he pulls his hand out but it fades away at the sight of his glistening fingers, how he studies them for a minute before slipping them into his mouth and humming in content. 

“Way better than mint chocolate chip.” 

Next thing you know he’s slipping his hand back between you, the imprint of his knuckles against your panties hot enough to make you drool down his chest. 

Thumb pressed to your clit he moves in slow circles, just enough pressure to make you need more, pressing down onto his hand and trying to swivel your hips. “Want you, Steve. Need you.” 

“I know baby, gotta stretch you out first.” At the same time he’s speaking he’s slipping his middle finger inside of you with no resistance and it’s not enough. It’s like he has a connection to your mind, slipping another finger in immediately and you feel that ache start to untangle itself the slightest bit. 

With two of his much larger fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit, you already feel the signs of an orgasm building deep in your belly. You feel that burn all over, grinding down onto him in search of that pressure that’ll make your eyes roll back. It’s when he curls his fingers that you lurch forward, face nuzzling his neck as he hits that spot inside of you that makes your vision blur. 

“S-steve..” You’re almost there already, walls clamping down on his fingers and holding them inside while he speeds up on your clit. There’s a twitch in your thighs that he noticed, hushed praises in your ear when that string begins to fray, threatening to snap in seconds. 

And then it stops. 

There’s no more curling his fingers and his thumb is still on your clit. You pull back just enough to curse at him, his hand wet and sticky with evidence of just how much you were enjoying that. But when you see his face you know you’re fucked. He’s got that shine in his eyes that screams trouble, a devious little smirk on his lips as he watches the frustration build behind your eyes. 

“Something to say, sweetheart?” He’s taunting you, daring you to curse at him—but you don’t. You can’t fathom the idea of him taking this all away so you remain quiet, shaking your head at him and hoping your obedience will pay off soon. He nods at you as if to say “that’s what I thought”, hand coming up to tuck your face back into the crook of his neck as he starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you again. 

You’re glad he can’t see the way your cheeks turn bright red because you can hear how wet you are, the small little noise it makes every time he drives his fingers back into has you pressing further into him. He has goosebumps on skin from the feel of your hot breath against his throat from where you’re practically panting, little open mouthed kisses left for as far as you can reach. 

It doesn’t take long before that feeling is building back up, stronger than before and you curse against his skin. “Snug little cunt, greedy for it, isn’t she?” You think you chant a whispered “yes” into him but you can’t be sure, overwhelmed by the tight, quick circles he’s rubbing on your swollen clit and the wave of pleasure you feel beginning to wash over you. 

And then it stops again. 

This time you can’t help the whine that slips out, hands fisting his t-shirt as you writhe in his lap. He chuckles in your ear, smooth and teasing and it makes you mortified when you feel yourself drip down his hand at his meanness. 

“You can handle one more time, yeah? Then I’ll give you my cock.” The promise of finally being full of him is enough to push down your frustrations, eagerness and excitement taking over. He lets you get away with a nod, picking up a faster pace than before and you think it’s not for you, but that his patience is wearing thin. 

He’s rubbing harshly against that sponges spot inside of you with every pass of his fingers, your mouth dropped open with no sound coming out as you try and hold off. It’s too much, too intense and you feel lightheaded at how every nerve in your body is lit up and buzzing.

But apparently he knows your body better than you do, stopping just seconds before you begin to tip over and your shoulders sag in relief and annoyance at the same time. 

“Please, please.” They’re quiet little pleas that he can't even hear but can feel against his skin and he coos at you. It’s condescending and should piss you off but instead has you nudging your nose against his for comfort. 

“Told ya I’d give you my cock, honey. Lay down and let me see you.” You move to lay back, watching him stand over you and strip his shirt and shorts off. He’d forgone underwear and you thank god for that. The sight of his cock, hard and shiny with precum as your thighs falling open for him automatically. He notices this, of course he does. He’s thick and you’re suddenly very grateful for the prep he just did, you don’t think he’d fit otherwise. 

When he leans down to pull a condom from the back pocket of his shorts—presumptuous cocky bastard—you feel the urge to stop him but refrain. You’re already crossing all these invisible lines, you need to have at least some self control. Even though you’re desperate to feel him bare. You’re captivated by him, watching him roll the condom on and clenching around nothing as he hisses through his teeth at the contact. 

Seeing him for the first time, how hard and flushed he is makes you regret even more not getting your mouth on him. Next time, you promise yourself. You’d thought you’d be nervous for this, but you think you’re too overwhelmed with a need for him that there’s no room left to be nervous or anxious. 

Climbing on the bed he moves between your open legs, hands on either side of your head as he holds himself up over you. His cock is lying against you, head touching your clit and it’s making it impossible to lie still. “You still want this?” His face is serious, and you want to squish his cheeks at his consideration for you despite his hard cock pressing against you. 

“Please, Steve. I want this—I need you.” It’s all the confirmation he needs, reaching one hand between you to take his cock, running it through your slit and groaning at the way you twitch below him. After bumping it against your clit he moves down to your entrance, pushing in the slightest bit and squeezing his eyes shut at the feel of you clenching down on him. 

The burn of him pushing forward stings, but it’s a welcome pain that has you gripping the sheets below you, looking for something to steady you when you feel like you’ll float away. “Keep going, please keep going.” You’re pleading below him, mouth dropping open when he pushes in. He has to pause when he’s in all the way, his patch of public hair at the base of his cock catching at your clit and you gasp. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” His forehead is pressed against your cheek, his teeth scraping against the edge of your jaw as he tried to collect himself. “I don’t—shit I don’t know how—goddamn baby, never felt anything this good before in my life.” 

He throbs inside of you when you whine, craning your neck up just an inch to take the silver chain dangling above you between your teeth. “Fuckin’ hell, gonna kill me.” You lift your hips off the bed, urging him to move and moan around the chain when he slips deeper inside of you. He pulls himself up to look at you, hair falling around your head like an angel with blotchy cheeks and fucked out eyes. 

Thrusting forward, the tip of his cock nudges against that spot inside of you and you clench around him so hard his arms almost give out above you. This has been building up for weeks and with the way he edged you earlier, you won’t last long. He knows as much, thrusting into you and using one hand to rub sloppy circles on your clit. 

“Feel like I’m having deja vu, having you pressed against me like this, yeah?” It was just hours ago you were on the train, a few more layers between you but pressed up against him all the same. 

The chain pops from your mouth when he moves your hands to lay beside your head, lacing your fingers together as he stretches over you. Your piercings press against his chest just right and it has your tummy tightening, the added friction enough to have your head spinning. 

He looks mouthwatering above you, hair out of place and falling over his forehead. His cheeks are flushed and he’s holding his bottom lip between his teeth as he moves between watching your face and the way your tits bounce with every thrust of his cock. There’s little drops of sweat running down his sculpted nose and slipping onto your chest, your cute little gasps hitting his ears. 

You know you’re done for when he leans down, lips pressed to your ear and his harsh breath tickling your skin. 

“Takin’ your daddy’s cock so well, aren’t you, doll?” 

Eyes screwed shut you claw at his shoulders, his name leaving your lips in a curse and you both can see the way the nickname makes your face flush a shade darker of red, eyes turning dark and fingers digging into him. “Dirty girl, acting like you don’t like it when I can feel you making a mess of me, this pretty little pussy hugging me tight when I call myself daddy.” 

“Fu-fuck, Steve. Gonna cum—m’gonna cum.” Your words are hushed and quick in his air, rope beginning to snap and if he stops right now you might actually kill him. 

“Go ahead, soak my cock, pretty girl. Show me who I belong to, yeah?” It’s all it takes, rope snapping and sparks shooting down to your toes as you tug at his hair, your thighs tight as your orgasm crashes through you. It feels like it goes on forever, your body taught and ears buzzing and you can barely make out the faint curses coming from above you. 

He belongs to you, and he will as long as he’ll have you.

You feel yourself start to come back down, your chin pinched in between Steve’s fingers and he’s looking at you like he’s seeing the first snowfall of the year. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips grinding into yours and his breaths uneven and sharp. “Where…where do you want it baby?” 

Not sure that you can make coherent sentences right now, you reach up to cup your breasts, Steve’s eyes widening before the most pitiful cry leaves his lips. He thrusts into you one, two, three more times and each one has you gasping below him as aftershocks of your orgasm zing through you. 

He pulls out quickly, pulling off the condom with a sharp inhale and you think he looks good like this, all desperate and pathetic for you like you always are for him. You urge him forward, fingers digging into his hips and trying to pull him up your body. He moves easily, coming up so he’s barely resting any weight on your belly, knees on either side of your chest. 

You cup your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples and pushing them together below him. He’s looking at you from under his lashes, eyes hooded and lips parted in a silent gasp. It only takes two quick strokes before what’s been building at the base of his spine snaps and he’s cursing above you, ropes of white covering your chest and neck and catching the piercings too. 

“Perfect, you’re so perfect—shit.” He works himself through it slowly, his cock twitching and his fingers covered in cum from where it’s dribbled over his fist. He’s staring down at you with an intensity that makes you blush, eyes taking in every inch of you that’s marked with him. 

“Look like a fuckin’ dream with these pretty tits covered in my cum. Fuck, doll, I’m gonna think about this for the rest of my life.” 

All you can do is smile stupidly below him, your heart bursting and your body thoroughly exhausted. He leans down and presses a quick peck to your cheek before he’s shifting off the bed, running to the bathroom and washing off his hand before he comes back with a warm rag, sitting beside you so he can clean you up. His hand hovers over you and you roll your eyes at the little pout he’s wearing as he looks at your boobs. 

“Are you seriously pouting over cleaning off my boobs right now?” 

“Who wouldn’t be? They look so pretty like this.” 

You reach for the rag with a giggle to do it yourself but he pulls his hand back, shaking his head at you and begrudgingly wiping his cum off your chest with a little sigh that’s a little endearing. 

Once you're cleaned up and the condom is in the trash he helps you up so he can pull back the comforter, both of you snuggling in under the covers—naked at his request. His chest is pressed to your back, his heartbeat felt against your skin and it makes you smile into your pillow. 

His skin is warm against yours, fingers laced beside your head and you lift your chin to place quick kisses against his knuckles. 

“Now that’s the kind of reward I could get used to.” 

“Steve!”

————-

It’s the next day and there’s a soreness between your thighs that has you smiling to yourself while you get ready. You remember this morning, how you woke up to the sight of honey brown hair nestled between your thighs, coaxing you out of your sleep with his tongue on your clit. 

The best kind of pain, where you’ll feel him for days when you walk or when you sit down. It brings a blush to your skin and memories you’ll think about forever to your mind. 

He left shortly after, both of you needing to be away from each other so you could actually get ready for the lunch you had planned with Robin and Eddie this afternoon. 

A feeling of nervousness settles within you as you get ready for this lunch. It’s not that you want to keep this from Rob and Eddie, but you’re not what you’d even tell them! These nerves were much more about you and Steve then they were your friends. 

Would you tell them you’re dating? That you like each other? That you’re just fucking around? This is what made you anxious, what had your hands twisting in your lap on the train and had you so distracted you stumbled right into Eddie outside of the restaurant. 

“Woah! Caught ya.” He steadies you, smiling down into your worried eyes and a little bit of that anxiety seeps out of you. This is your friend, one of your best friends! Who cares what’s going on, maybe he’ll have some insight that you can’t see for yourself. 

Eddie leads you into the place, a booth in the back already holding Robin and Steve. They’re both on one side of it and you can see from here that Steve’s unhappy about not getting to sit by you. 

You slide in so you’re closest to the wall, legs knocking with Steve’s under the table and the small amount of contact soothes some of the turmoil happening inside of you. 

Everything is going good, things feel normal—besides the subtle winks Steve sends your way to get you blushing—and you’re not even worried anymore. The table in front of you is filled with food, everyone reaching over and grabbing whatever sounds good. Arms are crossed over each other and hands get tangled when you reach for fries or mozzarella sticks or an onion ring. 

Robin is going on about something, you’re not sure what you’ve kind of zoned out a little if you’re being honest, when you feel Steve staring at you. You look up to his brows furrowed, confusion laced in his features and you quirk your brow at him, wondering what has him looking at you like that. 

It’s when Eddie speaks up beside you, cutting Robin off and bringing everyone’s attention to him that it makes sense, “Harrington, I appreciate the love but can you stop trying to play footsies with me under the table?” 

Steve’s face flames and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and out of your mouth, hands coming up to try and smother how loud it is. But Steve doesn’t recover fast enough, eyes darting to yours sheepishly and that’s when it clicks for Eddie. 

“Oh. My. God.” 

Three sets of eyes fly to Eddie. Robin is confused. You and Steve are looking at Eddie as he looks between the two of you, mouth dropped open in shock and you curse yourself for the storm that’s coming. 

“What?” It’s Robin that speaks first, eyes darting between the three of you quickly. You and Steve keep quiet, trying not to give yourselves away but it’s no use. “Oh my god.” There’s Eddie again, sinister smirk on his lips as he takes his time taking in your pink cheeks and the way Steve won’t make eye contact with him. 

“Oh for the love of god! Someone tell me what’s going on. I am not a mind reader.” 

“Robin, you won’t believe it. These two finally fucked.” A chorus of noises fill your small corner of the restaurant, booth creaking underneath you from where Eddie is practically bouncing in his seat. Robin squeals, hands going to grip Steve’s arms. Steve sighs, letting Robin tug him around like a rag doll in a fit of her excitement. And you gasp, smacking Eddie in the chest the way you do to Steve all the time. 

But neither of you deny it and that alone sends waves of relief through you. Not that you think Steve would, especially with the way he’s gotten over his bit of embarrassment, adorning his signature smirk and a look of pride as the people around him freak out. 

You don’t know how bad Steve wants to show you off, tell the world and scream it from the rooftops how lucky he is to even get to be around you. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, sweet and kind but not afraid to challenge him and call him out for his bullshit. God, he’s obsessed with you. 

Eddie’s rubbing at his chest where you hit him, pouting like a child as if it actually hurt. You hope it did. “Damn, she’s got some force behind those hits,” He looks from you to Steve, eyes lighting up and you know what’s coming before he even opens his mouth, “but you love it, don’t ya big boy?” 

Your head falls forward to rest in your palm, eyes closed as you try and pretend you're anywhere but here. You think you hear Robin gag from across the table and it forces a laugh out of you. Eyes lifting to meet Steve’s, his teeth are showing and he’s shaking his head like he knows a secret no one else does. His words fill the space around you and make your skin heat under his stare. 

“Oh you have no idea.”  ————————————————————————

(save me steve harrington in a tank top)

@aheadfullofsteverogers i remembered and hope you enjoy 💌

[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.

[mtcloudsworld]

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | +18, mdni, fem!reader, vigilante!reader (I thought of her as a witch, revealing Jason's deepest darkest desires while putting a little twist of her own...if that makes sense lol idk), Jason Todd, cowgirl, pet names: baby, edited but in case of any errors, ignore it, ty. Enjoy lovebugs! 🦠🩷

Call it lust, call it a driven quench of thirst, ecstacy, fucking, lust but secretly and begrudgingly, you had him wrapped around your finger.

Y'all were breathless and lightheaded but somehow weren't done. He can't lie he loved fucking the living shit out of you. It made him feel alive. Having your nails embedded in his skin, marks along his back and lipstick stains left on his collar and neck. Sounds of your raunchy mouth sends his mind to a frenzy.

His tongue slithers past your swollen lips to collide against your own. The kiss deepens and turns feverish with a mixture of loathe and lust. Mean, large calloused hands kneaded at the fat of your ass as he presses you completely against him. Your moans were nothing of the sort, they kept him in a trance.

Bewitching and taunting to the point he loses control, he finds himself cursing at his own vulnerability. Hating that he was allowing you to say things that were out of the ordinary, casting a spell of addiction and hunger over him seemed bizarre to hear but it was true. You had him hooked, driven to craving your touch-- craving every sense of you till it drove him mad.

"Does it feel good baby?" You're voice was as delicate as a feather, it was light with an erotic twist. You gave him a deep whine of your hips, rolling deliciously slow so he could feel every inch of you puckering around him. "Am I making you feel better?" It was so hard to tune you out when your whimpering moans echoed within his office. "I am, aren't I?" A giggle, "I can see it all in your eyes that you like it just as much as I do. No need in hiding it. You can tell me, I promise I won't tell a soul." You coo'd sweetly.

He feels your fingers run through his hair, comforting and persuading, they curl at the strands, giving a strain at the root of his scalp. As you tug at his hair, he grunts, thrusting his hips to meet you halfway. Pressing his pink mushroom tip into your soft cervix, he acknowledges the way you gasp, whimpering to the blissful rapture of his deep strokes. Eyes half lidded, you notice the swirl of his blue irises turn dark. The feeling of your pussy lips puckering and clenching around his throbbing dick, makes a deep guttural moan emit out of him. "s-shit!"

"Mhmm, there you go, baby," she chimes with a smirk. Pressing his forehead against yours, you hear those pathetic little whimpers and groans from his lips. Planting kisses at the corner of his lips, he locks eyes with you watching how your face twisted in delight. As he crumbles in your care, he feels himself getting closer and closer towards the edge. Gradually gaining the confidence to glance up your anatomy to your fucked out face, he watches how you begin to bounce relentlessly on his dick. "Holy fuck!-- Ugggh, yes, just like that, yes baby, yes!" Listening to the repetitive smacking of skin and squelching of your pussy juices beginning to pool and soak around his thighs and stain the black leather chair.

"Oh my god...oh my god...im cumming, I'm cumming, baby, I'm cumming!" With your arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails digging into the depths of his flesh, his hands held you right by the waist. Aiding and guiding you to keep going, equally you both leave marks behind once the intense orgasm washes away.

While you continuously feel him puncturing and abusing the inside of your gummy walls-- riding out the high, it leaves you breathless and crashing out on his chest, listening to the beautiful sound of his beating heart.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[coriphallus]

DA: The Veilguard Spoiler review pt2 - The Grime

this is a hard one to tackle without strawmaning anyone because itll be a direct response to alot of defense ive seen for the games morality system so ill just start by saying, iykyk

never a genre has been better equipped to discuss ethics than the interactive medium of games and yes, bioware games have been doing it since baldurs gate and no, theyve not always been 'centrist' and 'conservative'. im not even gonna entertain that idea. do you remember the cultural landscape DA:O released to? the landscape it was developed in? dont give me that just because zevran doesnt write in his little notes -that you can conveniently read- 'gay good. not me but me bisexual'

Thedas is a flawed world and its a world thats just as desperate to hang on to its status quo as our own. every time you play an elf thats thriving, or a human thats queer, or a mage thats not institutionalised you exist in a world that doesnt want you, it is an act of defiance that you do.

im sure we can all see why these games were so popular with the audience they can only weakly try to pander to today.

derailing time again; so one of my favourite paintings of all time is saturn devouring his son. it makes me feel so uncomfortable that it gave me nightmares as a child, and i still cant look at it without feeling this knot in my throat. i hate it. i hate how it makes me feel, how that man looks at me in terror like its begging me for help while cannibalising another. weird story but i was bewitched by that painting as a little kid.

it is not a well drawn painting, the proportions are all over the place, brush strokes crude and inelegant. it doesnt even have a deeper story nor was it intended for an audience. i will never know what goya thought of when drawing it.

i thought alot about that painting later in my life when i was struggling with mental health problems, i thought about goya alot too as an adult and after learning about his life. i stared at his paintings and remembered when i told my dad that i hated [saturns] big eyes and hed jokingly said "it would be scarier if he didnt have eyes"

i know what the drawing looks like now, nearly everyone with a little access to the internet does. if somebody removed saturn from it, we'd still be left with a brutalised headless carcass of a man in a canvas too big for itself. if we removed that too all we'd be left with would be void.

i dont want to live in a world where all i know of goya is his rococo work, i dont want to stare at the painting of a void knowing what filled it before. i hated every second of germinale but i never wanted it to be anything other than itself, the story it tells could never hold credence otherwise.

DAV has done its best to paint over it, but its still on the old canvas and i cant look away from the negative space its left, i know whats under it and it unsettles me, infuriates me. it hands me a palette with baby blues and pinks and tells me to paint over it to make a prettier painting. didnt i hate the eyes? wasnt it gross before?

i am not going to write why we need some grime in art, but its absence is disheartening. and to those who say hanged people in the streets or blighted villagers is dark and mature ill say no. its a kids idea of maturity, its the aesthetic of it with no substance. it means nothing to me if rook can just drench themselves in gallons of blight as they crawl through it. the horror of blight has never been the black goo and slimy tentacles, or the monster woman with way too many tits. it is watching people you love slowly fade away, it is a woman who was forced to cannibalise the contaminated flesh of her friends because the woman she loved betrayed her, it was the sheer scale and inevitability of it.

one area we go to is overrun by it and the game begs me to feel hopeful that flowers are growing again when it never let me lose hope. people have already prevailed, they have roofs over their heads and a steady supply of food on their tables. their spirit is unwavering.

its bad, everybody says. the sky is grey and soil is blackened, as my rook turns some statues to access a haunted house whos inhabitants are long gone and the only story they could ever tell is gone with them.

if the question is do i want to see famine? plague? misery? abuse? assault? the answer is yes. yes. i want to see it all of the filth. i rather face the fucking monster head on with its big bulging eyes and misshapen limbs than stare at the abyss its absence leaves on the canvas.

and if nothing else, this bastardization is disrespectful to the people who gave the IP its fame.

Why choose to be good?

back in the bsn days ive wondered why, even in a fictional universe where your choices have no real-life repercussions what-so-ever, players had more 'good' playthroughts than 'bad'?

what happens when you start killing NPCs, when youre needlessly mean to them? the game actively closes off its own content. you get less out of the game. just as, completely incidentally, you'd get less out of your life if you just started killing everyone around you. The world would be emptier, youd be alone.

in that quote i stole from good place chidi doesnt ask "why be good?" the wording is painfully deliberate. doing good is always a choice, and often not the easy one. what makes the act matter is that you chose to do it, even when given 6 other options not to. did i stop in the middle of an important quest to help a man retrieve an heirloom from a darkspawn infested hut? did i hear what that heirloom meant to him?

i cant stop thinking about that speech ever since playing this game after knowing its predecessors.

So, why do it then? Why choose to be good, every day, if there is no guaranteed reward we can count on, now or in the afterlife? I argue that we choose to be good because of our bonds with other people and our innate desire to treat them with dignity. Simply put, we are not in this alone.

i cant stop looking at this game that spits on its own legacy and think how could they have missed what fundamentally makes us human so bad, what makes us relate and empathise with eachother. what makes us pick the option to interact with an npc who openly hates what hawke is, and allow us to see the traumatised man underneath.

these characters of fiction are written by real people. i have absolutely nothing in common with a guy from canada yet for a brief moment in time i feel a sense of camaraderie as ive felt with goya that i couldnt articulate as a kid.

Nothing too terrible

DAV says it over and over again -as its wont to do with every piece of its flimsy morality- that people can change, people can be redeemed yet it shines as the game with most static characters in its franchise. it simply says things, and since it has nothing to show for it it makes sure to say it repeatedly, in case you missed it.

so when i first played DAO i was in high school, i started with a human noble because fresh out of dark side edgy kotor fame i wanted to be a posh brat. also because, ya kno, we were poor my entire life up until that point and i wanted to have power.

i committed to it, even as the game stripped cousland of everything he had, because i thought a man like him would. i picked the racist options, the sexist options, the options a man in couslands place would. halfway point of the game as i exhausted the initial dialogues something happened; this man who got paid to kill people, who showed no remorse nor care for his victims, begged my cousland to stil his blade.

and i did. i thought maybe he would be as confused as i was, maybe he had a moment of clarity but from thereon bit by bit he was less of an asshole. the characters grew around me, and my character grew around them. i chose to be good because -textually- we were in this together, at the end of all things.

rook is not a character, theyre a mascot. and quite frankly i think they may be a very evangelical mascot because they remind me of evangelical preachings of jesus more than the man from the bible (and i say this as someone whos only exposure to christianity has been through foreign media and the bible ive read that one time). they are the epitome of do no evil and their existence hinges on the frail concept of moral purity. theyre not a person trying to do good, who wants to be good, they are 'good'

-and lemme tell you its a wild choice to have someone like that locked in a prison of 'regret'-

rook can be mean to only one person in the game, and thats someone they dont even have a personal beef with for the most part. but even then they would be shouting at a wall because the game doesnt only undermine them with its narrative, but also every npc in the game suddenly gets possessed by the ghost of wattpad rejects past for a moment to tell them everyone can be redeemed. and i believe it because i played the other games, i believe it because i know zevran and sten and morrigan, isabela and thom and iron bull and dorian. i know it because i can see the vague shapes behind the new coat of paint but i am not rook.

so no, the game fails to get people-can-change points by its own merit, and it cannot gain points from its prequels because it destroyed them. none of those characters i watched grow exist in this universe. zevran cant exist with DAV crows, fenris` story cant exist in an imperium with invisible slaves only glimpsed through empty cages and broken chains left scattered on the ground. i dont know which morrigan this NPC is, is it the woman who grew to learn kindness, who begged to sleep with her friend just to save them despite knowing it would play into the plans of a destiny she so desperately tried to break free from? or is she the clever puppet her mother groomed her to be who wanted to harness the power of a god? i dont know her, i dont know this dorian or this isabela beyond their names ipso facto this is not a sequel.

bellara asks an assassin why he is trying to save the world and his answer is "ive done some things in the past im not too proud of. nothing too terrible, but some of it was bad." and i can hear the games desperation for me to not engage with its material in that 'nothing too terrible'

lucanis never killed anyone innocent, taash never harmed an animal they could shoo of or reason with, emmrich venerates the dead and is friends with every wisp he pulls to use in menial labour, davrin joined the wardens willingly because he wanted to do good...

rook tells harding that her anger is justified when shes not even allowed anger of her own.

nothing too terrible.

aside from creating boring and nonsensical and static characters it creates a dreadful echochamber that we're forced to sustain. No taash is not valid, their gender is but their behaviour is not and for the character to grow and mature it needs to be addressed. lucanis doesnt need to be pampered in shock blankets he needs to see how repressing his problems and jeopardising his health puts people around him in danger etc etc. they are adults and they need to learn more complex ways of healing. and if rooks flaw is that theyre an enabler, then that needs to be acknowledged by the narrative in some way too, and not mindlessly endorsed because they say some buzzwords.

none of these interpersonal relationships feels real because none of these people feel real beyond some draft of themes and tropes. some interactions literally remind me of two bots in facebook comments

i look at this dialogue wheel with familiar symbols and all im reminded of is hawke telling carver he carries every death with him, of him telling his uncle that he wasnt fast enough, of him begging the person he loves to tell him that his mothers death wasnt his fault.

and they dont. they just sit there with him.

[euhla]

EVEN AFTER ALL THIS TIME—it’s still you 𝜗𝜚. CAPITANO

pairs. capitano x fem!reader

tags established relationship, fluff, soft!capitano only js for u :3, comfort, possessiveness, mentions of violence n dead body, ooc, downbad capitano

a/n yeah, as always.. english is not my first language. there will be a looottt of mistakes IM SORRYYYY T__T anw songs that i listen to while writing this. : swimming i was all over her whole wide world dark paradise

‘You— who choose to battle, to earn a glorious name. Embarking on a pilgrimage, for the wishes of the people. Thus, you rekindle in ashes because of a dream.’

What once Capitano enshrined was no longer sacred. He no longer remembers his dream; something that he always protected, something that was a reason for him to move forward, something that was his reason to live.

Perhaps, it’s something childish? Maybe it’s to persevere the dignity of a blade, maybe it’s to foresee a great sword-wielder that’s a match, or even stronger than him, and maybe, maybe, maybe..

With a sigh, Capitano stand. Glancing at his enemy’s body once before leaving it to nature to take care of it. Maybe in a few days, that body will become one with mother nature. Maybe.

That body weighs heavy sin, at least that’s what Capitano’s judgement said. The poor miserable little guy only bad-mouthed you once, saying that only your bewitching look that saved you from your reputation as a low commoner despite being Il Capitano’s wife. And Capitano happens to know it from his subordinates’ reports.

Capitano cannot hold the vexation himself that his sword alone was the only one solution to this problem.

Just the thought of seeing that man’s proud face after saying that makes Capitano’s rage burn again.

Archons, Capitano thought to himself, secretly cursing those who dare to bad-mouthed you. Woe to them! And may the celestial’s curse trail follows them and their next generation.

And Capitano’s cogitation was disturbed by his subordinates’ sudden appearance. He looks at them over his shoulder. “Sir, as your command, we want to remind you that it is time to return.”

Capitano turned around. The sword he held vanished in the air along with the shadow. “Well done,” he said. And he couldn't hide his excitement when the thought about what would greet him when he returned; you, your big warm smile, and your addictive sweltering hugs welcoming him.

Luckily for him, his expressions are hidden beneath the mask. So he didn't have to struggle to hold back his smile.

“Make haste. We shan’t make someone wait any longer.”

“Yes, sir.”

The cold breeze that lingers before was easily replaced by a warm atmosphere as soon as Capitano set foot back into his residence. He waits, and count.

One..

Only silence.

Two..

He could slightly hear a hurried footsteps.

Three..

Someone’s coming.

Capitano turned around. Quickly, he opened his arms wide as you immediately jumped towards him as if he was used to it (yes he is). And it quickly turned into a hug. You nuzzled into his neck, smelling his scent.

“Welcome home.”

“My love, it’s only been a day.”

“Yeah, but still..” you pout.

You looked up to see him. His hand moved to hold yours, and played with each of your fingers like a toy. “Where have you been?”

“.. mere an exasperating matters. Now, shall we spend our time together?”

But now, it seems like Capitano remember all of his reasons— you. Because of you, and after all this time, his dream remains the same; to protect your smile and keep you safe.

end note : i messed up at the ending, but who cares anyway? :D

[mins-fins]

can't take my eyes off of you

&&. being in a relationship with na jaemin makes your heart rate pick up in just the slightest.

pairing: na jaemin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, idol!jaemin x makeup artist!reader

warnings: none! jaemin is just a little shit

word count: 0.6k

notes: this is much shorter than what i usually write im sorry im just in my nana feels right now 💗 na jaemin afshsgsssys 😖😖 he has me doing backflips on my bed with how insanely beautiful he is (is NOT athletic at all) also yes the title is based off the song by lauryn hill bc ms. lauryn hill actually saved my life with her studio album!! okay enough of me enjoy ( ≧ᗜ≦)

of course he's a fucking multitasker.

having to deal with na jaemin not only filming, but undressing you with his eyes at the same time was a prospect you never thought you'd see with your own two eyes.

but alas, here you are, getting stared down by the alluring center of nct dream. his eyes holding a certain gaze he'll only ever show to you, the members have already been eliminated in his eyes, and with filming the furthest thing from his mind, you're currently his main focus.

you sigh and shake your head, cheeks reddening as you hear his distant snicker in reply. you just turn your head to watch him from behind the camera, he looks beautiful, a bewitching sight in the lens of the film before you.

another touch-up.

the director yells cut, and jaemin turns on his heel to beeline towards you, the members' chatter fading into the air as a smirk tugs on his lips. you know it won't be the last time he has to come to you for another touch-up, he messes around constantly, often smudging his lipstick in the process, a mistake that you often have to fix. being a makeup artist isn't easy, especially with this demon as your boyfriend.

"hey beautiful stranger" he grins, white teeth on display.

he's staring at you as if he's about to devour you, unashamed in the way he licks his lips as he looks you up and down.

"hi jaemin" you answer back with a small smile.

"jaemin? no baby? no honey?"

he teases you softly, lips jutted in a pout as he nudges your shoulder. there's a spark in his eye, one that reminds you of exactly who you're dating. he knows it's risky to be acting so lovey dovey with you in a room full of other staff, but he just can't contain his love for you, you're so precious.

"not now, nana.. come on, let me fix those lips of yours".

he steps closer, and you start working, his breath tickles your fingers as you start to apply a new layer of lipstick. a smile breaks on his face and his hands slip around your hips.

"jaemin".

"have i told you how gorgeous you look today, baby?"

you roll your eyes, giving a final look at your work.

"you always do, and you look amazing by the way".

he hums, moving away from you as he clicks his tongue. "all because of you, y/n".

and then he's turning again, going back to filming as he begins whistling the tune to the group's title track.

when he turns back to stare at the camera, he slyly winks at you, an action that has your cheeks reddening to the color of your burgundy tshirt.

cut!

he walks up to you with dangerous eyes, and you already know the teasing is about to get worse.

"y/n, my dear stunning makeup artist".

somehow, his voice manages to get even lower, a revelation which makes you involuntarily shudder, a shudder he clearly picks up on, if his smirk is any indication. the distance between you two is safe this time, his hands placed obediently behind his back. you break into a soft smile, and jaemin giggles, scrunching his nose.

the movement accidentally smudging the lipstick at the corner of his lips.

"jaemin".

"i'm sorry, sweetheart, i can't help it when i have such a cutie in front of of me that i love so much".

"ugh, shut up, let me fix that".

you bring your thumb to the corner of his mouth, trying to erase his tiny mistake.

you hear him take a deep breath, then exhale as his head turns towards you, your finger ending up right on top of his lips.

you look up and lock eyes with him.

his lips quirk up into a smile, and he places a gentle kiss to the pad of your thumb, a swift sweep of the tongue.

he pulls back with half-lidded eyes.

back in 30 seconds!

then he's gone again, back on the set as if nothing happened.

yeah, you're doomed.

[bubbless-s]

⌗ ୨۫ 𖥔 ۫ Whispers of the heart ୧ ׅ𖥔𓍯

Context: Slytherin boys + Pansy finding out you can turn into their favourite animal (you’re an animagus)

Masterlist

-ʚɞ genre: fluff

-ʚɞ warnings: extremely delusional

Tom Riddle

• So fascinated.

• Handles you with care.

• “My little snake.”

• Absolutely loves it when you wrap yourself around his throat?

• Asks you to bite the people who annoy him.

• Carries you around in his pocket.

• You swear you saw him smile when you snuggled inside his robes.

Mattheo Riddle

• “You look so stunning.”

• Literally bewitched.

• “You make a good pillow.”

• Pets you and plays with your fur.

• “Go bite Blaises ass please 🙏”

• Laughs when he sees someone else scared of you.

• Also all giggles and cackles when you lick his forehead as a joke.

Theodore Nott

• Childhood dream come true.

• “You’re so gorgeous amore mio..”

• “What if we replace you with one of the dragons in the tournament.”

• Holds onto for dear life when he first rode with you.

• “Can you blow flames too?”

• Moistureses your scales when he thinks they look too ‘rough’.

• Jokingly bought you a childrens book named ‘What do dragons like to eat?’

Draco Malfoy

• Gets so excited.

• Gets jealous of other ferrets when they come around you??😭

• A little too ready to buy you little ferret clothes.

• “So adorable.”

• One of his rings is the double the size of your paws and Draco finds that strangely cute.

• Saw somewhere that ferrets like to dance. And like. He kinda wants to see you dancing.

• Gave you an atrocious hairstyle. (Slick back)

Lorenzo Berskshire

• “OH MY GAWD.”

• Cuteness aggression at max.

• “Can I carry you around like a backpack?”

• DOES carry you around like a backpack.

• Puts a little bow on you. (First coquette koala?!)

• “I wonder if they sell koala tutus.”

• “You’re so cute Im going insane.”

Blaise Zabini

• “NO WAY.”

• Also has cuteness aggression.

• Rubs your stomach.

• Saw you using your tail as a blanket and took hundreds of pictures.

• Goes crazy when you stuck your tongue out.

• Blaises search history: ‘What do red pandas eat?’ ‘Do red pandas get cold easily?’ ‘Red panda..’ ect ect

• Highkey gives you the cat treatment.

Pansy Parkinson

•Loves your floppy ears but also teases you about them.

• “Ears so big you could fly if you tried.”

• Very secretly loves when you get the zoomies in her room.

• Boops your nose.

• Gives you a bowl of baby carrots whenever you visit her.

• Puts you on her lap or stomach.

• Made you a little space on her desk so you can watch her while she studies.

[hannieehaee]

HIIII, i just want you to know every content of yours has always been my fav ,i always anticipate every single writing of yours .

I would like to request reader who is in a relationship with s coups , they have been dating for a very long time. in this scenario, he admires the reader being friends with all of Svt, and how she also loves them and treats them like her little brothers, the rest of Svt enthusiastically greeting her. scoups observes from a distance admiring you with the people he cherishes . he can't help but wonder how he became so lucky to have all these people in his life.

content: bf!seungcheol, established relationship, fluff, afab reader, etc.

wc: 749

a/n: thank u so much im so glad u enjoy my content :D!! hope u like what i came up with c:

masterlist

seungcheol knew he was lucky.

after putting his career on the line at a very young age by joining an unknown company and seeing himself forced to endure all types of trials to succeed, he was now showered with accolades on a daily basis.

he had his twelve brothers, a successful career, a healthy family, a daughter (in the form of kkuma), a loving fanbase, riches and wealth. he had everything a man could possibly want. and just when he thought he possessed every luxury known to man, you came along.

you were the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld. he had met you only by a chance, in a fleeting encounter when he caught sight of you during one of his schedules. he had been bewitched from that moment by not only your beauty, but also the demeanor of your person. seungcheol didnt know you then, but he knew he needed to.

one thing led to another and he somehow made you his. this, however, did not come without much effort. seungcheol fought tooth and nail against any and every obstacle that separated him from you, with the end result being your current relationship, which had been going strong for a few years now.

everything was at ease now. now seungcheol truly had everything he could ever want. not only did he have all the aforementioned luxuries, but he also had you to share them with.

you were practically another member of his family by now. his mother had easily adopted you as a daughter, and his family had welcomed you with open arms, practically treating you as his wife – something which always made seungcheol's heart soar and cheeks warm up.

not to mention kkuma, who claimed you as her mom from the moment a smitten seungcheol introduced you to her. nothing made seungcheol's heart fill up more than playing family with the two of you, merely practicing for what would come next in your relationship. providing for the both of you in ways he always hoped to do for the wife and kids he always envisioned was something that filled him with indescribable pride.

and lastly, his brothers, who had now become your own.

seungcheol never tired of seeing you with his friends, always having to fight the embarrassing grin that always invaded his face when he brought you around to play with them.

you had a special friendship with each member; each of which seungcheol was always attentive to (from a distance, as he liked to enjoy the view).

with jeonghan, you had developed a sibling rivalry, always fighting over ownership to seungcheol's heart (and wallet). the two of you would banter often, claiming that there was only space in seungcheol's heart for one of you.

"i was here first!", jeonghan would smirk

"but im the one he takes to bed," you'd counter.

"are you sure about that?", jeonghan would tease.

and the argument would go on and on as seungcheol rolled his eyes and feigned annoyance at your friendly rivalry.

sometimes you'd be occupied by chan, who would try and entice you into dealing with seungcheol's moods in order for the members to slack off and go play rather than practice.

"c'mon! he likes you, just distract him so we can go get some tteokbokki! we'll bring you some," would promise chan, thinking his friend was none the wiser.

"bring me some soju and we have a deal", you'd always join in on the scheme, knowing your boyfriend could use a break after all.

at other times you'd join him and his friends at the gym, always up for a challenge against the gym rats in the group.

"bet i can deadlift more than you," would challenge mingyu.

"well, no shit, you're like seven feet tall!", you'd counter.

"bet i can deadlift your whole weight", joshua would join in.

"no one's deadlifting my girlfriend!", now seungcheol would intervene.

seungcheol had countless instances in which he would watch from afar and enjoy the view. the fruits of his labor accompanied by all the people who made it there with him, with you being a huge contributor.

in moments like these, there was no way for seungcheol to hide the happiness he felt at having his favorite people be each other's favorites in return. seungcheol wasn't sure what he'd done in his past life to end up here, but he'd do it a thousand times over if it meant this was the outcome every single time.

[harksness]

Distraction

A/N: i suffer from severe agatha harkness brainrot 24 hrs a day 7 days a week. i also couldnt help but make this one a little sweet too ajsadkgj im so down bad for her

the request!

Warnings: hand kink, quickie, slight mommy kink bcs im a hoe who can't write smut with agatha without working that in at least a little bit. lmk if i missed any warnings as per usual <3

WC: 3.5k

You find every little thing about Agatha to be insanely attractive. How could you not? She’s absolutely perfect. Her smooth, sultry voice and calculated words. Her pretty blue eyes that always seem to have that mischievous glint to them. Her tempting pink lips that are almost always quirked into that evil little smirk of hers. And oh God her hair, her wild hair you could play with for hours. 

She's ethereal. Agatha Harkness is the definition of beauty and all of its synonyms. Alluring, lovely, heavenly, ravishing, irresistible, beauteous, divine, bewitching and as ravishing as they come. Something pulled right out of your dreams, or some grand work of art.

But something about her hands just stuck out to you. They drove you crazy.

Her long, nimble fingers.. Watching how deftly they work her magic, the fluid movements she makes with them always has you biting your lip and wondering if she’d repeat those same movements elsewhere. 

As if you didn’t have a hard enough time keeping your eyes off of her hands, all of those pretty rings she found recently aren’t helping. They draw more of your attention to how skilled she is with her long digits, the soft silver, the pretty jewels and carvings into the metal always catching your attention. The problem is that once that happens, you just can’t seem to get your attention off of them.

You clear your throat, catching yourself staring at her hands… Again. Reluctantly, you refocus your attention back to the meeting at hand as you quickly cast your gaze over all of the people sitting around you, Agatha’s voice background noise.

Your lover finds your gaze as she’s speaking to the group, sending a quick wink your way.

Immediately you feel your cheeks flushing when you realize that’s her way of telling you that you’ve been caught red handed. Billy, of course, catches on right away with a little gasp as he raises his hand into the air, a sly grin overtaking his features as he interrupts Agatha.

“Can you two stop flirting with each other for five minutes? It’s so distracting for the rest of the class.”

You pinch your lips together at his words. Ever since you two became a thing and he figured out about your relationship, he’s really taken to the two of you as his “gay aunties”, loving to tease you every chance he gets about your sappy romance.

There’s a few beats of dead silence in the room as everyone waits for Agatha to say something.

“What are you talking about?”

She’s so obviously just trying to mess with the younger wiccan.

But still, even knowing this you try so hard not to smack your hand to your forehead at her response. She’s had over three hundred years to master the art of snappy comebacks and witty one liners, her charisma is off the charts. You’d personally say she’s more skilled with how she uses her words in conversation than magic itself, it’s one of her greatest weapons.. But that’s what she decided to say?

“Really.”

Billy says, less of a question and more of a statement. You release a big sigh, and you can feel Rio rolling her eyes from the spot next to you.

“I mean.. Of course I can’t go five minutes without flirting with my girl.. Have you seen how gorgeous she is? How impossibly perfect?”

Agatha says, gesturing towards you dramatically. You’re surprised that you haven’t passed out from the amount of blood rushing to your cheeks, a bashful smile crossing your lips at how outspoken and dorky she is. 

“Eugh! You two are too cute.. I need to go vomit…”

Billy is smiling regardless of his teasing.

“Oh! Absolutely feel free to do so! Meet back here in ten minutes!”

Agatha claps her hands together excitedly, a puzzled look crossing the boy's features.

“I was only joking..”

No one seems to pay any attention to the words he mumbled under his breath. Agatha was just so eager to take him up on the offer.

She’s being so dramatic with her hands- waving them around and gesturing so much more than usual. Not many other people would notice, considering how dramatic Agatha just is as a person, but you do.

Rio rolls her eyes at you, the slightest smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“You two are worse than lovesick teenagers.. Disgusting.”

You smile softly, watching Agatha shoot you a look before she leaves the room, her gaze lingering against yours as she quirks an eyebrow at you suggestively. Slowly she presses down on the door handle and pushes it open, the door swinging closed behind her a moment later with a soft click.

“I know, it’s so disgusting…”

You’re barely paying attention as you get up to follow your witch. You cross the room, winding between the fold out chairs and the women stretching and mulling about as they take advantage of their free time. Pushing the door open, you scan the room quickly before finding her leaning on a wall across from you.

“Sooo…”

She starts as you approach, holding her hands out in front of herself, as if examining her nails. You cross your arms over your chest, pouting slightly at her incessant teasing.

“Someone seems to be fixating on my hands..”

Agatha holds them up, palms facing her as she wiggles her ringed fingers at you, and wiggling her eyebrows to match. You roll your eyes playfully.

“No..”

You simply say, once again as you feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment. She lets out a disappointed hum.

“Shame. Because if you were.. I was going to suggest that we go into the back room and take your mind off of my hands for a little bit.. And put my hands on something else…”

Agatha implies suggestively, your eyebrows shoot up and your eyes widen at her suggestion.

“With everyone in the next room?!”

You hiss at her in surprise, terrified that someone was going to walk in on your conversation, let alone catch the two of you in the act. She shrugs, indifferent.

“Two rooms over.”

You watch for a moment as she slowly saunters over to the next door, leaning against it with her back to push it open and hold it ajar for a moment. She raises her wrist, shrugging down her sleeve to check her watch as two strands of her curly brown hair fall over her features, blue eyes lidded as she looks down.

“Eight minutes..”

She trails off suggestively, and that’s all you need to remind yourself this isn’t a daydream as you run after her, following her into the dingy little storage room.

The door falls shut. It’s dark, and you’re about to start groping around for a light when suddenly a warm orange glow fills the room with a little click as Agatha pulls on the string hanging from the lightbulb on the ceiling. 

The room is filled with random boxes and equipment piled up and leaning on the walls, and conveniently- a worn, plush, yellow chair that used to sit out in the main room. You raise an eyebrow at Agatha as she plops herself into it, leaning back and spreading her legs as she leans one arm on the armrest, the other coming up to her mouth as she bites one of her gaudy rings.

Her hair is piled on top of her head, two strings of hair hanging in her face. Her coat is unbuttoned and fanning to the sides as the purple fabric of her nice dress pants stretch around her soft thighs perfectly.

She’s smirking around the ring she’s biting, eyebrow quirked curiously as she gazes up at you with her mischievous blue eyes. Agatha pats her thigh invitingly.

“Come have a seat, baby.”

You could’ve melted into the ground right then and there.

You’re sure you look a lot less put together and sexy as she does as you basically scramble to jump into her lap, your knees sinking into the plush cushion of the chair as you straddle her thighs. She smiles warmly up at you, humming happily as a hand comes up to rest on your waist.

“Good girl..”

Agatha praises, looking up to meet your gaze as she trails a hand up your waist lovingly. Her other hand comes up to stroke at your thigh, sliding slightly up under the hem of your skirt. Your breath hitches in your throat.

She raises the hand from your waist, fingers curling around the back of your neck as her thumb caresses your cheek… The cold of her rings digging into your skin. You lean into the feeling.

“C’mere..”

Agatha speaks softly as she pulls you down to meet her lips, your eyes fluttering closed as her soft lips move against yours. You hum into the kiss, raising your hands to rest on her shoulders.

She runs her hand further up your skirt, her soft skin smoothing over your hips and across your ass as she squeezes the plush skin lovingly. Your hands caress the exposed skin of her neck, toying with the loose hairs hanging from her bun.

Her warm hands run along the line of your lacy underwear, tracing back up over your hips, then down between your legs. Your breath hitches, breaking the kiss as a soft, breathy moan escapes your lips when her fingers trail downwards and start to grind her fingers up against your center. Gently she presses her fingers up against you, and you rock against her, little sighs of pleasure falling past your lips. Agatha’s eyes are lidded, but fixated on your features, her gaze flickering to your lips and her smile quirking upwards just the littlest bit every time you let out a desperate noise. 

“You make the prettiest noises, angel..”

Agatha whispers against your skin as she starts to leave lingering kisses along the exposed skin of your neck. You raise your hand to cradle the back of her head as she presses her fingers into you more firmly, your hips rolling against her hand desperately as you toy with her hair.

“Mmm.. Ag’s, please.”

You plead into her hair, all you can focus on is the sparks of pleasure you’re receiving, just enough to keep working you up but not get you anywhere. Your features twist in frustration.

“What’s wrong baby, is this not enough?”

Leaning back, you notice the taunting smirk etched onto her lips. You narrow your eyes at her, unable to help the little pout that overtakes you.

“Please.. We don’t have a lot of time..”

Agatha hums in thought, moving her hand that was cradling your neck to wrap around your jaw. The metal of her rings have heated against your skin, and it feels good to have them bite into your cheek just a little bit as you press back against her hand.

“Oh, sweet pea, I know you can do better than that.”

She quirks an expectant brow at you and you know what you have to do.

“Please… Agatha I- I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you and how good you are with your hands... I’m so desperate for it.. Mommy, please, I need you..”

You do your best to pour your heart out, knowing you sound like a scrambling mess, but also knowing Agatha loves it when you sound that way. When you're desperate and keening for her, and she always melts when you call her Mommy. You know her weakness just like she knows yours.

You were right because you can feel the air around her shift a little bit, her lips hanging open and blue eyes clouded with desire as she looks up at you.

“Such a good girl, baby..”

Agatha says lowly, crashing her lips onto yours one more time in a desperate, frantic kiss before she pulls back, splaying her fingers out as she makes a show of taking off her rings. Your eyes drop to her hands.

She pinches her fingers around one, twisting it to the side as she slowly drags it off of her long fingers before setting it on the armrest to her right. She repeats the action over and over, until a little line of rings is forming.

Once she has her dominant hand free of rings except for one, you grab her wrist shyly.

“Here.. Let me help..”

Agatha gazes up at you curiously as she waits to see what you’re going to do.

You carefully bend her fingers so that they’re all curling in towards her palm, her pointer finger the only one sticking out. You raise her hand to your mouth, biting down softly onto the chunky metal ring pressed down to her knuckle, and using your teeth, you slowly pull it off of her finger, dragging your tongue along her soft skin as you do.

She watches you intently, eyes locked onto your movements. When it’s off of her finger, you raise your head and take it from your mouth, placing it with her other rings, completing the little line. Agatha’s staring up at you with parted lips and a wide smile.

“Well, that was insanely hot..”

She says breathlessly before pulling you down to kiss her again, your lips melding as you moan into her mouth. You don’t think you could ever get tired of how good her smooth, warm mouth feels against your own as she claims you, quickly taking control of the kiss. You also don’t think you could ever get sick of her taking what she wants from you, because you’ll gladly give her anything and everything you can.

Agatha’s hand starts to travel up the plush inside of your thigh, running her fingers over your skin lovingly as she reaches your center once again. Pulling your underwear aside, you gasp against her lips as she runs her fingers through your wet folds, softly parting you and gathering your arousal on her fingertips before finding your clit.

“Oh my poor girl.. You really were so worked up just from looking at my hands and imagining what I could do to you with them, hm?”

She asks you with such a cocky grin on her face. You moan softly, desperately as she toys with you, experimentally drawing patterns over your clit before dragging her fingers back to your soaked entrance.

“Ohhh, oh yes…”

You let out a long moan as she gently, carefully eases one finger into you. She’s smirking up at you, leaning down to press sweet, wet kisses into your neck as she starts to move, experimentally, getting you used to her touches before she can really fuck you.

“I’ve really got a hold on you, don’t I?”

She speaks against your skin, shifting forward a bit as she carefully slips another finger into you, and you moan at the stretch. She curls them with every thrust, the pads of her long fingers brushing against your sweet spot with precision. You brace yourself, mouth falling open in a silent moan as you curl your fingers around the top of the chair, gripping it tightly as you begin to feel your orgasm building, tension winding in your abdomen.

“Haa.. Oh, yes, Ag’s.. You do, more than you know.. You’re my everything..”

You pant out desperately, the rough fabric of the old chair scratching your knees but you don’t care. Being the center of Agatha’s attention, being touched by her like this, is the most important thing in your world. It’s all you want and you’ll savor every moment of it. Rugburn can be a future you problem, and you won’t regret it one bit. You know you’ll smile at your scraped up knees when the injuries remind you of how you got them.

“Am I now?”

She has that taunting tone to her voice that you fear but also adore so much at the same time. You hum in agreement, nodding your head in affirmation as your eyes pinch shut, an overwhelming amount of pleasure starting to make you slip and lose control of your senses as she keeps working at your center.

“Oh- Shit!”

You gasp out a bit louder than intended, throwing your head back when you feel the familiar sensation on your clit- her magic pressing into your sensitive nub has you digging your teeth into your bottom lip hard.

“Please, baby.. Tell me more about how much you adore me..”

She ghosts her lips against your ear, working her fingers faster, lingering her thrusts so that they can curl against that sensitive spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. You don’t know how much longer you’re going to last, you can feel your legs beginning to tremble. Agatha raises a hand under your skirt so that she can fondly caress your hip, her fingers savoring the soft feeling of your skin under her hand. You love her warm hand pressed against you, and the metal of her rings against your skin.

You’re letting out short and desperate moans of pleasure as you attempt to speak. You try to form a coherent sentence, but fail.

“You’re everything to me, Agatha… God.. Oh my God, you’re so perfect.. So beautiful… So, so good to me..”

You mumble out, your thighs tensing as you desperately try to focus your attention on keeping your balance. You can’t help it, all of the stimulation is so much, you can feel yourself tumbling towards the edge as you lean against the back of the chair. Agatha plants her lips against your neck, her free hand running over every inch of exposed skin she can reach as she speeds up her movements, your hips rocking intime with every thrust of her long fingers deep into your waiting cunt. 

“Haa.. Oh, Agatha… You take such good care of me.. Ag’s.. Love you so much..”

She laughs softly against your skin, her tone laced with so much fondness and adoration.

“You can’t even form coherent sentences… I love seeing you like this.. My girl, so desperate for me and anything I’ll give… I love seeing you so wrapped around my finger..”

Agatha leans back to watch you as you become overwhelmed with the pleasure she’s giving you, to enjoy the mess she’s made of you as you desperately paw for her. You whimper out as you nod your head, feeling the pressure on your clit intensify. Your lips for a wide o, your movements becoming frantic as you rock against her hand, but her movements remain controlled and steady to guide you through your high.

“Yes! Yes I am! Yes, anything.. Anything, Ag’s..”

You babble mindlessly, your nails digging painfully hard into the soft fabric of the chair, nearly biting into the wood underneath.

“Oh! Cumming! Oooh..”

You moan out, your movements sloppy against her hand as you feel electric pleasure shoot through you. You tense up, your thighs trying to clamp shut but finding themselves unable to, so instead they just violently tremble as Agatha guides you through your orgasm, peppering sweet kisses up and down your neck, an arm wrapping around your waist to support you and a smile toying on her lips as she talks you through..

“Such a good girl for me, baby… Oh, you’re so pretty when you cum.. I could never get sick of seeing you like this.. So pretty..”

You let out a pathetic hum as you collapse and melt into her lap, your body limp and exhausted as you relax. Agatha guides you to lay against her chest as she slips her fingers out of you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and pulling you as close to her as possible. 

“Oh, sweet girl.. You did so good for me..”

She speaks into your hair, leaving little kisses along your head as she guides you to lay against her chest. You smile, burying your face into her neck, trying to take in as much of her as you can.

“Mmmm.. You also did so good for me..”

You cast her a knowing look and she grins in response.

“Happy to be of service.”

You’re desperately trying to catch your breath as Agatha lovingly runs her hands along your body, petting your hair into place, giving you little kisses wherever she can reach to help you calm down and catch your breath. You’re mushy, overflowing with love for the older woman as you wrap your arms around her middle and bury your face into her neck.

Suddenly there's an insistent knocking on the wooden door.

“Okay, lovebirds… Or horndogs.. We’ve been waiting on you two for twenty minutes. Make yourself decent and come on out.”

Rio’s familiar voice calls from the other side of the door, agitation lacing every word.. You groan out, embarrassed as Agatha laughs.

[hisui-dreamer]

Hi, congratulations on 1k followers! I love your writing a lot and I was hoping you could do Villainess AUs with Malleus? Like isekai manhwa style? Thank you!!

the gazelle's sweet briar

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x f!reader

Synopsis: your first objective was to avoid the main characters, but it's not easy when you only have the memories of your friend's ramblings to work off of

Tags: cliché isekai plot, reincarnation, fluff, arranged marriage, tw (mentioned): bad parenting, patriarchal society, death

Word count: 1.6k+

Notes: @coralinnii has an amazing series based on isekai villainesses, so i definitely recommend you check out her work too! im so in love with it (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Masterlist

Once upon a time, there lived a villainess of exceptional allure, her visage as enchanting as a moonlit night. However, this bewitching beauty concealed a heart blackened by a singular obsession with appearances.

From the earliest days of her upbringing, her mother, a woman who had managed to step into aristocracy by charming a noble, had instilled in her a cruel belief: that those who were not blessed with physical perfection were destined for lives of relentless mockery and eternal solitude. This twisted ideology consumed the villainess' every thought, blinding her to the virtues of education and morality. She became nothing more than a porcelain doll, admired solely for her aesthetic charm.

The King arranged a marriage between her and Duke Draconia, the enigmatic descendant of the dragons who ruled the northern lands, believing that such a striking bride would surely please the reclusive Duke.

However, the King remained oblivious to the swirling rumours that pervaded the courtly circles. Whispers spoke of the Duke as a hideous man who had never once revealed his face, perpetually concealed behind a forbidding black mask. When the rumours reached the villainess' ears, she threw tantrum after tantrum, vehemently refusing to wed a man whose appearance couldn't possibly match her own.

Yet, a royal decree could not be denied. Reluctantly, the villainess embarked on her journey to the northern realm in bitter acceptance. It had rained the moment she arrived, the castle dark and uninviting, with thorns crawling onto the obsidian walls. The Duke, an oblivious and shy man, did not greet her at the grand entrance. Instead, she was met by the Duke's advisor, a man with a curiously boyish features.

Humiliation welled up within the villainess' heart, for she felt as if she were being played the fool by the entire duchy. On the eve of her arrival, anxiety gnawed at her like a relentless spectre.

As night descended, the Duke, mustering his courage, attempted to approach the vexed lady.

But when the villainess beheld his masked face, terror seized her like a vice. "Stay back! You hideous beast!" she cried out, her voice trembling with fear, and she recoiled, her steps faltering as she retreated from him.

The Duke, wounded by her cruel words, attempted to console her, his outstretched hand beseeching understanding. Yet, her irrational dread overcame her, and she continued her backward retreat until, with a heart-stopping scream, she slipped from an open window.

That was how the villainess' life ended.

you hadn't actually read the book, but it wasn't difficult identifying who you got reincarnated as

especially with how your best friend obsessed over this villainess because, and i quote, "if pretty, why evil, huh???"

you woke up a week before the villainess would depart for the North, but that week alone was enough to make you understand the way she acted

every day, you were fed portions fitting of a child, had your skin rubbed raw as you were bathed, and not a moment of your mother's nitpicking about a sudden imperfection she found in you

in truth, you were more than glad to leave for the North, even if that's where your life would be on the line

the survival plan was simple: maintain an amicable relationship with the duchy until the night the heroine stumbles in to ask for a night of shelter, to which the heroine would heal the emotional wounds of the Duke, and share with him the beauty of love, bringing warmth into his heart

and so, you arrived at the estate, the castle tall and intimidating with the clouds dark and foreboding

still, you stepped out of your carriage (with wobbly legs) and met the advisor (your friend's favourite character, in fact)

the advisor, lilia, though seemed young, was actually the very man who raised the duke in the absence of his parents

he welcomed you as the lady of the duchy, and led you to your quarters

by nightfall, you were quite comfortable with living in the estate

everyone was polite, the food was delicious (and properly sized), and you had no doubt you'd settle nicely here

as a precaution to the death sequence, you decided to take a stroll in the rose garden after dinner

if you were already on the ground floor, you couldn't fall to your death, right?

but unexpectedly, you encountered a lone figure in the centre of the garden

he was incredibly tall, dressed simply, his emerald eyes fixated on the estate

upon closer inspection, you noticed he had long horns as well, perhaps he was a gazelle beastman?

either way, you were curious about what it was that held his attention so strongly that he couldn't notice your presence

"Excuse me, sir? May I ask what is so interesting about the building?" you timidly break the silence of the night.

The man turns to you, his eyes widening in surprise. "... Do you not know who I am?"

You blinked in confusion at his words. His words filled you with a sense of foreboding. You wondered if this person matched any of the characters your friend had so fervently described, but all you could recall was the beautiful villainess and the enigmatic advisor to the Duke.

"My apologies, I'm afraid I do not... May I know your name, sir?"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he considered your question. "No... If that is the case, you may call me whatever you wish."

Perplexed by his response, you tried to come up with a suitable name. "Then... May I call you Mr. Gazelle?"

Upon hearing your words, he burst out in laughter. "Hahaha! What an interesting choice. Very well, I accept the name," he said. "In response to your first question, I was observing the gargoyles of the building."

on that night, not only did you learn more about the fascinating functions gargoyles serve, you also made your first friend in this life

strangely enough, you didn't meet the duke at all unlike the novel, which though strange, you greatly welcomed

if you didn't have any ties with him, then it'd be so much easier to just divorce him, get the money, and live a comfortable luxurious life far away from the main characters

though as you say that, you find yourself wanting to spend more and more time with "Mr Gazelle"

despite his intimidating appearance, he turned out to be a very generous person, frequently gifting you little trinkets he's made or bouquets he's arranged

he's started calling you "Briar", after the roses in the garden where he met you

you greatly appreciated the nickname, it felt better to be called that than the name of the villainess, that you could just be yourself and not play the role of a villainess avoiding ruin

you also find that whatever musings you've mentioned to him, they somehow manifest themselves

oh? you wish you could learn about embroidery? the next day there's a basket full of the highest quality threads and fabrics, with a gentle tutor to help you learn

(you still remember how cute "Mr Gazelle" looked when you gave him your first finished product, a handkerchief with an embroidered gargoyle)

what's this? you'd like to try more desserts from the capital you were never allowed to try? say no more! the next day the chef presents you with 10 different choices!

so you assumed he was an advisor of sorts to the Duke, because how else could your requests be granted so easily?

but one day, around two months after you started living in the duchy, "Mr Gazelle" asked you questions about the duke, whether you were afraid of him, would you prefer to meet him, curious questions like that

though surprised by the topic, you answered honestly, saying you don't really believe in the rumours (because you know from your friend he's an ethereal beauty) and yes, you would like to meet your husband

and what do you know? lilia informs you the duke wants to share dinner with you. what a coincidence!! :)

Nervousness held you in its grasp as you stepped into the room. Your gaze remained fixed on the carpet beneath your feet, and your knees bent gracefully as you executed the perfect curtsey.

"Your Grace."

You could hear sounds of shuffling, and then a pair of black boots entered your field of vision. Familiar hands found yours, guiding you to rise and stand upright. "Rise, my Briar," he murmured gently.

With hesitant anticipation, you finally looked up, taking in the obsidian mask that concealed his face. That voice, that nickname, and those enchanting eyes—it was all too familiar.

"Mr Gazelle..." you whispered in disbelief.

His eyes narrowed in mirth as he chuckled. "Although I hold great fondness for that name, I do wish you could call your husband by his name," he said as he began to remove his mask.

"Malleus..." you breathed.

A tender smile graced his lips, and his eyes sparkled with affection as he delicately brushed a stray lock of hair from your face—a gesture he had done countless times before. "My sweet Briar, I implore you to forgive me for deceiving you. I wished nothing more but to know you," he pleaded.

Oh, with how loud your heart was pounding in your chest, you realized that you were irrevocably and hopelessly ensnared in a love story that had deviated far from the original story.

But you didn't feel a single ounce of regret.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!