SYPNOSIS: Y/N L/N, a struggling Gryffindor student with grades barely hanging on by a thread, desperately needed a tutor. Her scores in Charms? Embarrassing. Potions? flabbergasting. Transfiguration? Let’s not even go there. So, in a stroke of what she thought was genius. Y/N L/N had an idea. Why settle for one tutor when she could have two? And not just any two—she managed to rope in Kim Minji and Pham Hanni, the top Ravenclaws of their year.
TAGS: Short Oneshot, Harry Potter AU, Fem!Reader, Gryffindor!Reader
WORD COUNT: 1.2k
WARNINGS: Arguments/conflict (nothing toxic, just bickering), not proofread i got this idea at 2am
Y/N L/N, a struggling Gryffindor student with grades barely hanging on by a thread, desperately needed a tutor. Her scores in Charms? Embarrassing. Potions? Flabbergasting. Transfiguration? Let’s not even go there. So, in a stroke of what she thought was genius. Y/N L/N had an idea.
Why settle for one tutor when she could have two? And not just any two—she managed to rope in Kim Minji and Pham Hanni, the top Ravenclaws of their year.
The logic? Two Ravenclaw brains meant double the expertise, right?
WRONG.
DEAD WRONG.
Unbeknownst to Y/N, these two had been at each other’s throats since forever. The idea of tutoring together? Hell no, they’d rather scrub cauldron bottoms in Snape’s dungeon while listening to Jojo Siwa on repeat for eternity. That’s how much they hate each other. But despite their mutual hate for each other, they had one thing in common:
They both liked Y/N L/N.
And that was enough for them to reluctantly say yes.
Big mistake. Huge.
Now, Y/n not only had to deal with her sinking grades but also a splitting headache.
"Please, you barely even survived the last transfiguration quiz,"
Minji sneered, adjusting her Ravenclaw tie as she leaned over Y/N’s Transfiguration textbook, shooting a smug glance at Hanni from her spot on Y/N's right.
The shorter girl, seated to Y/N’s left, rolled her eyes. "I still got a 97, thank you very much."
"And who was the one with a 100?" Minji crossed her arms, a smirk tugging at her lips.
Y/N groaned, pressing her forehead against the wooden table of the Hogwarts library. Madam Pince gave them a warning glare from the counter, but Y/N couldn’t even muster the energy to care. She threw her hands up, whisper yelling. “Guys. Hello?? I got a 67. Can we maybe focus on that?”
Both girls immediately stopped arguing, their attention snapping back to Y/N as if they’d completely forgotten why they were there.
“Right,” Minji said, clearing her throat and pulling Y/N’s textbook closer. “Transfiguration basics. Let’s start with the theory-”
Hanni cut in before Minji could say more. “Actually, practical application is way more helpful. Here—” She pulled out her wand, aiming it at a nearby quill. “Let me show you.”
“Are you dumb? Theory first,” Minji insisted, glaring at Hanni. “She needs to understand the principles before she tries the spell.”
“Hands-on practice works better,” Hanni argued, her voice rising.
There they go again!
Y/N finally snapped, slamming her hands on the table with enough force to make both girls startled.
“Merlin’s beard, I’d rather be stuck with Peeves right now!”
Both girls blinked, guilt flickering across their faces. For a brief moment, the library was silent, save for the rustling of pages and the occasional distant cough.
Hanni cleared her throat, pulling the textbook closer as if to reclaim her composure. “Fine. Theory first.”
Your head’s spinning, but not from learning. No, it’s from enduring the non-stop back-and-forth between your two so-called tutors. Somehow, despite their constant bickering, you’ve managed to slog through a few pages of your Transfiguration textbook. A miracle, honestly.
On your left, Hanni is hyper-focused, her quill flying over parchment as she scribbles notes. On your right, Minji is—wait. She’s doodling tiny frogs in the margins of your notebook.
“Stop ruining her notes,” Hanni snaps, snatching the notebook away with a sharp glare.
Minji looks completely unbothered. “Relax, they’re just frogs. Frogs are cute.”
You let out a tired sigh, dropping your head onto the table. “Can we, I don’t know, focus for five minutes? Please?”
There’s a beat of silence, and then Minji straightens up, putting the quill aside. She glances at you and clears her throat. “Alright. Let’s go over the steps again.”
She shifts her chair closer—closer than necessary—and suddenly she’s leaning over the book. Your breath catches as her face ends up mere inches from yours.
Too close.
This is too close.
“Here, This part's simple” she says, her voice soft now. Her gaze flickers to you, and it’s intense in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. “Just… visualize the transformation.”
You swallow hard, nodding like your brain hasn’t turned to mush. Her words barely register because all you can think about is the way her hair brushes your arm…
or how her lips curve when she speaks.
Or—what the hell?
Why are you noticing these things?
Why can't you stop staring?
“Got it? “ Minji tilted her head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
Does she know?
Does she know what she’s doing to you?
“Y-yeah, got it yeah.” Your fingers twitch, desperate for something to ground you. The textbook. Yes, focus on the textbook. Not Minji.
Before you could process what just happened, Hanni abruptly stood, the sharp scrape of her chair against the wooden floor snapping your attention back to the room.
“That’s enough theory,” she said, her voice clipped with irritation she wasn’t bothering to hide. Her smile, directed at Minji, was overly sweet, almost mocking, and didn’t even try to reach her eyes. “Practical application, remember?”
Before you could react, she stepped between you and Minji, positioning herself right in the middle. Her movements were deliberate—her hand gripping your chair as she tugged it closer to hers, the legs dragging noisily against the floor. Minji’s chair, on the other hand, was nudged a few inches away with a not-so-accidental shove.
“There,” Hanni said brightly, flashing Minji another insincere smile before turning her full attention to you. “You'll understand it better if I guide you.” She reasoned
Minji rolled her eyes but didn’t protest. Still, you didn’t miss the way her jaw tightened.
Hanni crouched slightly to meet your eye level, her wand already in hand. Without hesitation, she placed her free hand over yours, adjusting your grip on your own wand. The warmth of her touch was unexpected, her fingers steady as they moved against yours, and for a moment, your brain lagged, struggling to keep up with anything other than the closeness.
You hadn’t even realized you were gripping your wand too tightly.
“Relax, dummy.” she said, her voice softer now, the earlier irritation gone. “You’re holding it too tight—loosen your wrist.”
Relax? How were you supposed to relax when she was this close?
You swallowed hard, opting to nod instead of answering, since your voice would absolutely betray you. She shifted closer, her face only inches from yours as she adjusted your grip. The faint scent of vanilla and old books lingered around her, very distracting and impossible to ignore.
“Do you always feel the need to get this close when you're tutoring people?” Minji scoffs her eyes narrowing as they flicker between you and Hanni.
“What’s your problem?” Hanni stilled for a moment, her hand hovering over yours, before snapping her head around to glare at Minji. “It’s easier for her to learn if I’m close.”
“You’re clearly—”
And just like that, the two were at it again, their voices rising in sharp contrast to the library’s quiet atmosphere.
You exhaled deeply, This wasn’t what you’d signed up for—not the bickering, and certainly not the headache growing behind your temples. Finally, you stood up and grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder with more force than necessary.
This was a waste of time.
You didn’t bother looking back as you walked toward the library exit.
aeri uchinaga's mansion, gangnam-gu, seoul, korea. 2:14 am.
WARNINGS ; cheating, violence, intoxication, mentions of drug use, (kinda) driving under the influence, general angst, implied home life problems (4.0k)
confusion. dread. betrayal.
y/n knew this feeling, where wonyoung had stared into her eyes for what was supposed to be one last time, telling her - showing her - that she didn't love her anymore.
the soft whispers of 'it's me, not you', and the dark eyes that seemed to be trained on everything but y/n's. she remembered everything, like a nightmare (because who remembers a good dream over something so detrimentally heartbreaking).
heartbreak.
that's what y/n was feeling.
"y/n?"
despite the loud reprimanding of minjeong behind her, or the bass that seemed to shake her entire being, all y/n could hear was her breath, hushed and quiet like the cries she had heard the day she met jang wonyoung, and the day she met yoo jimin.
jimin was supposed to love her.
the ace stood up, fully clothed except for the lack of the jacket - the one y/n had gifted her for their one hundredth day anniversary - which lay crumpled on the floor. her eyes glazed over with tears, her throat caught in a knot.
any other day, y/n would consider it regret on jimin's face, remorse, or maybe even love.
but she knew, no... jimin knew better than anyone that this wasn't love.
at least, she should've.
"it's not what it looks like." jimin reasoned out, pleading with y/n. behind her, kazuha covered her body, face flushed with alcohol and embarrassment.
minjeong scoffed, a smirk on her face. "it looks like you were eating her out."
jimin's eyes shifted, and it was almost like her irises had been replaced with a void, where nothing but fire and fury burned inside of them.
"fuck you, kim minjeong!" jimin screamed, stomping towards the mentioned girl. "why don't you stay out of our business for once?"
wonyoung knew this scene like the back of her hand, and despite her hatred for yoo jimin, she didn't want to see anyone get hurt.
"what if your underwear stays on for once?"
but unlike lily marrow, or like choi jisu, or any of the situations that had involved a high/drunk yoo jimin or anyone in a similar fashion, kim minjeong was making it difficult to avoid conflict.
"i'm gonna fucking kill you!" jimin grabbed minjeong by the hair, the latter girl gritting her teeth in pain.
wonyoung, although not exactly in the jimin prevention committee (which consisted of haewon who was currently drunk out of her mind, gaeul who was probably getting laid, and yujin who was no where to be found), had dealt with enough incidents of similar fashion to know how to defuse the situation.
the middle blocker stepped in, grabbing jimin's wrist.
jimin's grip only strengthened, her anger being amplified due to wonyoung's presence.
"you're gonna let her hurt me, y/n?" minjeong asked, y/n unresponsive and face blank. minjeong's eyebrows furrowed. "i showed you how much of a piece of shit she is, and you're gonna let her hurt me?"
"you... showed her?"
jimin looked at y/n, and it felt as if she was back in yeji's grasp, staring at herself in the mirror wondering why she wasn't good enough. why she was never good enough.
y/n had seen everything, and it was all kim minjeong's fault.
jimin raised her fist. all she felt was anger, like a red filter had somehow covered her thoughts, and sent her into a fury-filled haze. never in her life had she wanted to hurt someone as badly as herself, yet in front of her was minjeong, who was proving her wrong.
wonyoung grabbed her fist, holding it in place with all the strength she could muster.
the middle blocker looked at y/n, watching as her mind raced with nothing and everything, trying to both process and block the situation in its entirety.
it was familiar, and familiarity was a disease that plagued almost everyone in the room.
"stay out of this, wonyoung." jimin said lowly.
wonyoung never liked minjeong, but that didn't mean she wanted her to get hurt (and she knew that y/n would tear into herself if her best friend came out blooded and bruised).
"we have a game against KU next week." wonyoung reasoned out, making jimin falter. "if you hit her, you'll be suspended for the game, maybe longer."
the ace clenched her jaw. she hated that wonyoung was right, and hated the minjeong managed to end up unscathed.
jimin's hand dropped, and she roughly shoved her hand off minjeong. wonyoung gladly let go of jimin as well, and the three girl's turned their attention to y/n.
kazuha had been watching the three argue as she had gotten dressed. though their presence seemed to encapsulate the room, it was y/n's that seemed to overtake her field of view.
the girl seemed so small next to the three, head low and eyes shiny, as if she was trying not to break that exact moment.
kazuha wondered is she could face yunjin after everything she had done.
"baby..." fear ran through jimin's body. "baby, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to."
wonyoung watched silently, and for a moment, y/n's eyes met hers.
it was familiar, the look, and wonyoung couldn't shake the feeling of dread that surrounded her. still, no matter how horrible the situation was, she wasn't going to get involved unless y/n told her to.
she wasn't going to ruin y/n's chance at happiness, she just hoped she would break up with jimin for someone better (wonyoung wished it was her, but it wasn't. she knew that deep down).
"you're really gonna believe her?" minjeong interrupted, seemingly getting angrier by the second.
"i love you." y/n had never heard jimin more sincere in her life, but she didn't know what to believe anymore. "please believe me. baby, please."
y/n met jimin's eyes, and she saw nothing.
"who are you calling baby?" she stared at jimin, eyes glazed over in disgust as her lips quivered. "we aren't together anymore."
for a moment, jimin felt like she couldn't breath.
this was all wrong. it wasn't supposed to be like this. jimin knew she had messed up, but it wasn't her fault. it couldn't be, especially after everything.
she couldn't lose the one good thing in her life. not again.
"i'm sorry. please." jimin could feel familiarity rising in her chest, her sobbing now becoming pathetic wailing. she gripped onto wonyoung's arm, trying not to fall over. the copious amount of weed and alcohol was starting to get to her. "i'll be better. i'll do anything."
jimin could feel vomit rising in her chest, and she covered her mouth, turning to the closest thing she could find.
yena was sure to owe another fifteen thousand usd in damages.
y/n could feel her fingers twitch toward jimin, and it took everything in her to not run to the girl's side. her insides were screaming to protect her, to hold her, and to tell her that everything was going okay.
how could she do that when she wasn't okay herself? when the person that hurt her was the person she was trying to save?
when was someone gonna save her?
she looked over to wonyoung, her eyes laced in worry as jimin spewed her insides out into an expensive vase that looked european.
y/n wondered when wonyoung was gonna save her, if the taller girl even wanted to save her.
the middle blocker looked at her with worry, and with all the love she could muster in her beautiful, dark, doe-like eyes that told y/n that she was safe. that she was loved.
y/n knew she was delusional, but it seemed to amplify whenever she was near her ex-girlfriend.
she looked once more at jimin, and an ugly emptiness settled in her chest.
"can you take me home?" y/n whispered, her irises shifting to wonyoung.
wonyoung, who kept her safe. wonyoung, who she would listen to, who would listen to her. wonyoung, who loved her before, who she wished still loved her.
her wonyoung.
why couldn't jimin just be like wonyoung?
"are you fucking serious, y/n?" minjeong yelled so loud that her voice could be heard over the music. wonyoung frowned, not only at the yelling, but the footsteps that seemed to be coming up the stairs. "how many times do i have to remind you that she's your ex?"
wonyoung felt a hand on her shoulder, and she turned around to see alex baek and huh yunjin.
the volleyball player looked over to kazuha, marks on her neck on full display.
"what the fuck is going on here?" alex asked, looking over to jimin who seemed to be sporting the same marks as kazuha.
oh.
"kazuha?"
alex looked at yunjin, and her face morphed into something akin to one she had seen before at parties like this. the only difference was it was directed at jimin, and jimin never got caught.
the former defensive specialist looked over to jimin's girlfriend, and everything clicked. a sense of familiarity surrounded the room, as if she was relieving last year all over again.
yunjin launched herself at the girl, the former volleyball player holding her back but to no avail.
all she saw was red, and although her arms were held tightly by alex, she still had her feet. yunjin was gonna hurt jimin no matter what it took.
y/n looked over, kazuha joining alex as yunjin kicked the ace in the stomach.
y/n tried to rush over to the other girl, wonyoung hesitant, not wanting y/n to get hurt in the process. before the taller girl could stop her, minjeong grabbed her arm, now bruised from the girl's roughness from earlier.
"is your brain fucking broken?" y/n winced. minjeong's hold was like a vice grip.
wonyoung pushed minjeong back, shoving the girl harder than intended. she looked at y/n's arm, a red hand print wrapped around her wrist.
"are you okay?"
"wonnie," y/n spoke, her voice foreign to her. "jimin-"
"this is your fault!" minjeong yelled, eyes red as she pointed to wonyoung. wonyoung already knew deep down, she didn't need to be reminded. "if it weren't for you, none of this would've happened. everything would've been different."
wonyoung clenched her teeth, trying to shake off minjeong's words, trying to bite back the 'i know's and the 'i'm sorry's.
meanwhile, y/n rushed over to jimin as yunjin gave the ace one last kick to the side, mustering all the power that she could before she was pulled away by the other girl's.
y/n moved her hair from her face, examining jimin's tear-stained cheeks. there was something so angelic about the girl, even if everything jimin had done was akin to the devil himself.
"baby, please." jimin begged, her next words almost like her own proverb. "can you stay?"
y/n looked at wonyoung.
silently, she stood up, yunjin screaming and crying in the background as minjeong fumed silently. below y/n, jimin couldn't help but smirk at the shorter girl.
"wonyoung," y/n whispered. "can we go now?"
("yunjin, you need to calm down!"
"i'm gonna kill her!")
wonyoung? jimin could feel her head throbbing, maybe out of anger, maybe out of pain, but all she wanted to do was stand up and keep y/n here and away from wonyoung.
"if you leave with her, i swear to god." minjeong's voice was angry, and it held a disappointment that y/n had felt many times before.
"unnie..."
"i'm doing this to protect you!" minjeong screamed, her voice starting to get hoarse. "why don't you understand that? what did jimin do to you?"
wonyoung ushered y/n to go, guiding her gently into the hallway and out of minjeong's sight.
behind her, she could hear minjeong's cries, her words reverberating through her skull as she walked with wonyoung behind her, closing the door shut.
"you're leaving with her?" minjeong was muffled through the wooden door. "are you fucking kidding me, y/n?"
y/n wanted to stop, beg minjeong to forgive her just this once, but it part of her wondered if the older girl could even be reasoned with at this state.
the pair made it downstairs, a sea of people watching them in curiosity as y/n rubbed her wrist lightly. gently, wonyoung placed a hand on her midback, smiling down at her.
for a moment, everything was still.
upstairs, jimin sat on the bed, holding her side as she smugged. although ridden with anguish and rage - at herself, minjeong, and wonyoung - the girl couldn't help but laugh at yunjin pathetically struggling to fight her.
it was comedic, and jimin was enjoying the show.
"yunjin. go downstairs." alex shoved her out of the room, her eyes looking over to the ballerina beside her. "kazuha-ssi, please go with her."
looking at jimin as the girl left, alex spoke. "jimin... just, just stay here."
alex looked at the tearful minjeong, muttering curses about wonyoung and jimin under her breath, before going down to follow the two downstairs.
she left the door open, just incase jimin decided to start another fight.
wonyoung had found yujin in the basement, sitting in front of a room with only a beer bottle to nurse her back to sanity.
yujin wondered how much more she could take of this, but if it involved gaeul, then she would gladly do it for the rest of eternity.
"yujin-unnie." yujin looked up, giving a tired smile to her younger teammate. "can i borrow your keys?"
the older girl nodded, fishing her pocket for the keys to her black bmw i5. she handed it to wonyoung, her arms heavy with exhaustion.
wonyoung could feel her worry start to bubble up inside of her.
glancing up for a moment, she looked back down. "are you okay?"
"huh?" yujin closed her eyes slowly, the alcohol making her sorrow increase tenfold. "yeah, why?"
wonyoung bit her lip, the muffled moans from the room becoming more increasing. "where's gaeul-unnie?"
yujin opened one eye, and that told the middle blocker everything she needed to know.
"yeah..." yujin smile seemed sardonic, as if she was mocking herself for getting into a situation like this.
wonyoung looked at the girl in front of her, then to y/n, then back to yujin.
"do you want to come back with us?"
yujin looked at her for a moment.
"no." the captain shrugged, playing with the rim of her beer bottle. "i'm okay."
yujin wasn't okay, and she didn't know if that was going to end any time soon.
"unnie..."
"i'll be fine." wonyoung didn't believe her, and neither did yujin. "i need to make sure gaeul's safe. i'll see you later?"
wonyoung looked at yujin, sighing.
"okay."
yujin was never going to be okay.
the car ride to wonyoung's dorm was quiet, only the soft sniffling in the passenger's seat could be heard as the wind blew into the car, back windows rolled down slightly.
wonyoung had dealt with a drunk y/n before, she knew how nauseous the older girl got.
but there were no signs of y/n feeling that way, only the subtle movements of her wiping her cheeks, and the way that the car door seemed to have stray droplets of water on it (wonyoung was sure that yujin wouldn't mind, considering the captain had spilled a gallon of milk in the back at one point).
the two arrived twenty-three minutes later, and wonyoung pulled the car door open for the girl, guiding her to puke in the bushes before they made their way upstairs.
the entire place was empty, even the ra had gone to the uchinaga mansion. it was only them two, just like it was before.
it was an eerie feeling, like deja vu.
wonyoung opened her door, letting y/n sit comfortably before she turned on the ac. it blasted y/n's eyes dry, and any other time, y/n would've hated it. not this time, not when her eyes seemed to flow continously.
she was glad for the pain this time.
the taller girl sat beside her, though far enough to make it seem like a thousand miles away. wonyoung had decided y/n needed the space, to process everything.
y/n wanted anything but.
wonyoung looked at her. she was supposed to feel estatic, that the girl had broken up with yoo jimin, that wonyoung finally had a chance to get back with her. she was supposed to feel triumph.
she watched as y/n wiped her cheeks again, trying to get rid of a stray tear, and all wonyoung could feel was the burden of selfishness.
the taller girl played with her fingers.
"do you want to talk?"
y/n shook her head. "no."
wonyoung looked at her for a moment, noticing that y/n was rubbing the top of her knuckles again. quietly, she went to her desk, grabbing a spare blanket that laid upon her chair.
she wrapped it around y/n's shoulders.
"i'm sad." y/n muttered, feeling wonyoung's arms leave her shoulders.
wonyoung wanted to reach out, but not right now. not when y/n was hurting.
"i know." she said simply, cutting the conversation short.
she couldn't do this. wonyoung could have everything she's ever dreamed of, but not like this. she never wanted it to be like this. she just wanted it simple, she wanted it sweet.
she wanted to love y/n, the way that a person should love another.
y/n looked at her, wonyoung's eyes followed the sway of the curtains, the blinking of the fire alarm, and everything else imaginable. everything but her, just like then.
wonyoung looked everywhere but at her.
"did you ever love me?"
wonyoung looked at her, trying to understand why y/n had asked such a stupid question.
"i did." wonyoung smiled, her heart bursting at the thought of the girl beside her. "i loved you so much that i was scared of hurting you."
y/n went silent, and wonyoung wondered if she had seen right through the volleyball player.
"why did you hurt me then?"
wonyoung faced the girl, her eyes gleaming under the dimly lit room. it was like wonyoung couldn't breathe, like the first time she had messed up at practice, or the last time she had argued with her mom.
her biggest fears had come true.
"i hurt you?"
wonyoung watched as y/n smiled, wrapping herself in the middle blocker's scent. "you hurt me more than jimin had ever hurt me."
oh.
"i'm sorry." wonyoung wanted to hide in her closet back home, where the sounds of screaming and fighting were muffled, and where she'd stay until the light seeped through the cracks of the door. "i didn't know."
y/n shrugged, shivering under the blowing air. it was silent, and wonyoung hated it, the heavy atmosphere making way for all the worries that the co-captain seemed to carry with her.
y/n scanned her ex-girlfriend's features, and came to the realization that the ac wasn't enough to stop her tears this time.
"wonyoung?" y/n loved the feeling of her name on her tongue.
wonyoung hummed, head lost in her own forest of guilt.
"can you kiss me?"
wonyoung's heart leaped from her chest and into her throat, nearly choking the girl. part of her was worried that her delusions were starting to manifest into something more worrisome, but y/n stared at her, and that was enough to know it was real.
"i, i can't." wonyoung shook her head, tears falling down y/n's face. "you're drunk."
she needed wonyoung. "please."
"y/n." but wonyoung didn't know that. "you're drunk."
being drunk meant lowering her guard, and that meant there was a chance of wonyoung finally seeing her, of trying to understand her and how she truly felt.
y/n would always be jang wonyoung's, even if neither knew it.
"i know." y/n whispered, getting closer and closer to wonyoung.
this was exactly what wonyoung wanted, but not like this. she wanted every part of y/n, sober and awake, breathing and smiling.
"you're not gonna remember this." wonyoung murmured back. she could feel the older girl's breath against her face. the soft hints of mint and liquor filled up her senses.
everything was almost the same. everything was almost perfect.
"i know."
y/n deserved everything that wonyoung could offer, and if this was something wonyoung could do for her, she would provide, even if there was a sinking in her chest.
"okay."
y/n closed her eyes, feeling familiarity surround her. the taste of cherry - of memories - clouded her senses, and it was almost as if she could reach wonyoung again, like their story didn't end the way it ended.
familiarity was a disease, and it killed l/n y/n from the inside and out.
wonyoung pulled away upon feeling a dampness that fell upon her cheeks. it wasn't hers. she promised herself that she would never cry in front of y/n again, meaning...
"please don't cry." wonyoung felt heavy, like yujin who sat alone, waiting for a sign of hope. "i'm sorry."
y/n could feel wonyoung wipe her tears away, and a wave of nostalgia - of pain, suffering, happiness, and love - overtook her. she was scared that it felt right, and that she could never have it again.
wonyoung loved her.
"you taste like her." y/n sobbed, piercing wonyoung's heart.
right, wonyoung thought, her mind raced with thoughts of giving her delusions up. she loves jimin, even after everything.
wonyoung bit her tongue.
"jimin?"
she watched as y/n shook her head.
"wonyoung."
oh.
"you taste like wonyoung." y/n wanted to pull her throat out. she wanted to stop crying, to get rid of the lump that suffocated her. "i miss wonyoung."
it echoed in wonyoung, like a speaker at the end of a tournement, or the microphone at an award show, rough and loud, and full of dread.
i miss wonyoung.
"i'm sorry."
y/n cried harder, covering herself with the blanket. she wanted to hide. she wanted to feel safe, to pretend everything was okay until it was. she wanted to be protected from her feelings, to forget.
she wanted jimin.
wonyoung watched the girl, not sure what to do anymore. she stared and stared and stared, frozen, a part of her torn on what to do.
it was her fault. it had always been her fault.
jang wonyoung had always hated herself.
y/n's cries eventually faded into hiccups, her head wrapped nicely under the blanket that smelt like her ex-girlfriend. her eyes were swollen, and her cheeks red.
wonyoung stood up, grabbing a bottle of water and handing it to the girl who yawned loudly.
the taller girl bit back a smile, her heart still fluttering despite her self-hatred.
"i don't know when jiwonnie's coming back, so you can just sleep on my bed." wonyoung said softly, like she was afraid to shatter the girl.
y/n looked at her, pleading, begging.
wonyoung could feel a lump in her throat.
"i don't wanna be alone." y/n said.
"y/n." wonyoung tried to reason. "you're drunk."
y/n wasn't going to remember this, and wonyoung wondered if that would break her or heal her (she knew what the answer was).
"just stay with me." y/n pleaded, her eyes closing as her head fell against the cushions. "just for a little bit."
y/n could pretend everything was fine after this, but she just wanted to let her guard down. just this once, just this fleeting moment.
"okay." wonyoung was selfish, but she would tear herself a new heart if it meant a smile to y/n. "whatever you want."
carefully, wonyoung slid into the bed, listening as the world faded away, y/n cooped up in her arms.
she knew this feeling, where she held y/n close at night, seemingly forever as the two the breathed the same breath, smiled the same smile, and loved the same love.
the soft whispers, planning the future together, and their dark eyes that seemed to find each other's despite the pitch black night. she remembered everything, like a dream, because who remembers a nightmare over something so detrimentally heartbreaking.
How about an evie x reader where evie is trying to get with reader just how she was with chad. Except reader isn’t a jerk, just clueless
Her Oblivious Charming
Evie x Charming!Fem!Reader
Summary: Where Evie tries to charm Cinderella's daughter, not knowing you're an oblivious idiot.
Words: 2.3k
WARNINGS:Oblivious!reader, Chad is your brother, Mention of bugs, not proofread and rushed ending.
A/N:Y'ALL THE EVIE REQUESTS MIGHT BE DELAYED 'CAUSE SCHOOL IS COMING UP AND I HAVE TO GET READYY, I'M SO SORRY OMG. ANYWAY, I loved writing this tysm for the request, also ty for prompt writers, they're my saving grace fr.
"Any chance she's in line for a throne?" Evie inquired, her head tilted sideways as she leaned on her knuckles, her gaze fixed dreamily on you. "Anywhere in line?" she continued, her eyes wide with fascination. You, oblivious to the conversation, were grappling with a complex science equation, your pen poised above the paper as you furrowed your brow in concentration.
Doug followed Evie's line of sight with a raised eyebrow. "Y/N, Princess Charming, Cinderella's daughter?" Evie's head snapped up, a brilliant smile lighting her face
"Y/N inherited the charm, but not a lot of there, there, know what I mean...?" Doug trailed off, gesturing vaguely. Their attention returned to you as you winced and rubbed your nose after accidentally tossing your pen in the air and catching it with your face.
"Looks like there-there to me," Evie sighed dreamily, returning her head to her knuckles. "Any chance she's single?" she asked, her voice soft and hopeful as she turned to Doug.
Doug exhaled slowly. "Despite living up to her last name, she's never had a romantic partner," he admitted, continuing to scribble on his paper. "At least, not that I know of," he added as an afterthought.
Perfect. Evie loved a challenge.
She was wrong.
You weren't single because you were guarded,commitment-phobic,
or anything like that.
The truth was far simpler: you were clueless.
No offense, but you were an absolute oblivious idiot.
She let out a frustrated sigh, collapsing onto the side of her bed. The memory of her failed flirtation attempts replayed in her mind like a painful montage.
There was that time in science class, for instance. Partners for a project, where she saw her chance.
[ The science lab was a cacophony of bubbling liquids and crackling test tubes. As you bent over a Bunsen burner, carefully heating a test tube, Evie’s voice cut through the lab’s hum.
"There's something on your face," Evie's gaze was fixed on your face, her lips curved into a subtle smirk as she hovered a hand near your cheek.
Your head snapped up, your face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and panic. "What?" you managed to squeak out.
Her lips curved into a sly smile as she started, "Beautifu-" but before she could finish, your brain had already processed the word "something" as a code red for "bug." Terror seized you, you were terrified of bugs.
"Is it a bug?! GET IT OFF, WAIT!" you shrieked, your hands flailing wildly as you tried to dislodge the imaginary insect.
Your desperate attempts to rid your face of the nonexistent bug sent your elbow crashing into a shelf of glassware. Test tubes, flasks, and beakers rained down, shattering on the unforgiving tile floor. A cloud of white smoke rose from a broken container, setting off the fire alarm.
Evie's smirk vanished, replaced by a mixture of amusement and disbelief. She glanced at Doug, who was silently contemplating the ceiling, his palm pressed dramatically against his face.
That’s how their science project ended in disaster, earning them both a failing grade and a week of detention. It was also Evie’s unfortunate discovery of your knee deep(IN THE PASSENGER SEATT) fear of bugs.]
Undeterred, she tried again.
[After enduring a week of detention and her relentless, albeit unsuccessful, flirtations, Evie finally asked you out—a walk outside that is. You interpreted it as a purely platonic gesture, of course.
Under the night sky, during a post-detention walk, she took a chance, Evie turned to you with a hopeful glint in her eye. "My hands are a bit cold, " she said, her voice soft. "Would you mind holding them?" Her hands rubbed together dramatically.The classic move, she thought, a smirk tugging at her lips.
To her surprise, you took her hand. Her heart pounded in her chest. This was it, the moment she'd been waiting for.
But instead of the anticipated warmth of your hand, she felt the rough texture of fabric. There you pulled out a pair of mittens out of God knows where and slipped it on her hand
Where the hell did that come from?
"Here, you can take my gloves," you said with a completely innocent smile. You carefully fitted the mittens onto her hand, your touch gentle. It took a full five minutes of awkward fumbling before both mittens were securely in place.
She managed a small “thanks” as she tried to hide her flushed face. No! You were supposed to be the flustered one, not her!
And so, they continued walking. Plan failed, spectacularly? Well, at least she’d had her first physical contact with you. She’d take it.]
"At this point you'd have to be pretending not to know," Evie sighs a hint of exasperation coloring her voice as she pushed herself up from the bed, her body still bearing the imprint of the soft mattress. Her hand instinctively reached for the hand mirror lying beside her, and she began to fuss with her hair to fix it, the disarray a reflection of her internal frustration.
"Right?" Evie started, her words hanging in the air as her reflection revealed Mal, sprawled out on the bed in a deep slumber. An exasperated roll of her eyes followed, and she brought a finger to her lips in an attempt to fix the smudged lipstick. Her voice was muffled by the gesture as she muttered, "Very helpful." The sudden, forceful intrusion of their dorm room door startled her.
Didn't they lock the door?
The door swung open, revealing you in an oversized jacket, your face etched with panic. Your left hand gripped a key tightly.
Evie, still preoccupied with her hand mirror, glanced up, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Is that a key to...our dorm?" she questioned, her voice laced with confusion.
You nodded frantically, your urgency palpable. "My brother— it doesn't matter. You have to help me!" Your words tumbled out in a rush as you darted towards Evie, your foot catching something on the floor, causing you to stumble.
"You know how to sew, right?" You breathed out sharply, landing on Evie's bed with a bounce.
Evie's eyebrows shot up in question. "Yeah, why— hey!" Her hands instinctively flew to your chest as you began to unzip your hoodie with surprising urgency. She'd love to get there, but not so soon!
"No, my— blouse, I broke it!" Your explanation was breathless and rushed. The hoodie finally fell open, revealing a cream-colored blouse with three missing buttons.
Evie swallowed hard, hergaze flickering away from the slight exposure of your cleavage. "R-right, of course," she coughed, trying to regain her composure.
"My brother, I—this is his blouse," you stammered, your voice barely audible. "I need to get it fixed now before he sees it and tells Mom! He's looking for me right now! And if I—"
Evie's hand gently covered yours, silencing your frantic words. Her touch was surprisingly calming, grounding you amidst the chaos of your thoughts. With a steady exhale, she removed your hands from your face and placed them gently on your lap.
"Alright, calm down," she said, her voice firm yet soothing. "I'm going to get my sewing kit."
Rising from the bed, Evie walked towards a cluttered table overflowing with sketches and fabric scraps. After a brief search, she returned with a small box and sat down on the bed.
"Can you..." Evie began, her voice barely a whisper. Her gaze flickered between the damaged blouse and your expectant face. You tilted your head, curiosity evident in your eyes. She knew what she wanted to say, a simple request to make her task easier. But the image of you without the blouse flashed through her mind, and a blush crept up her cheeks. The distraction would be too much. With a frustrated sigh, she abandoned the thought. "Nevermind," she concluded.
Your impatience was growing by the second. "Please hurry," you pleaded, your voice rising slightly. Your hands fidgeted nervously in your lap.
She nodded in agreement and gently lifted the lid of the sewing kit box. With practiced hands, she rummaged through the assortment of supplies until she found a button that perfectly matched the color of the blouse. Carefully selecting a needle of suitable size and a length of matching thread, she gathered her tools. Leaning in closer, she gently grasped the loose placket of your brothers blouse with her thumb, steadying the fabric as she prepared to sew the button securely in place.
Your breath caught in your throat as you became acutely aware of Evie's proximity. Her warm breath fanned across your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. Her concentration was intense, her eyebrows drawn together in a furrow, but her eyes held a captivating allure that you hadn't noticed before. Their rich, brown color was like melted chocolate, flecked with golden specks.
Your gaze darted away, desperate for a distraction. The room, once neutral, had transformed into a suffocating chamber.
Your hands, seeking an anchor, found their way to the bed sheet, gripping it tightly as if it were a lifeline. A wave of relief washed over you as Evie momentarily broke the intense proximity, her head turning to retrieve another button.
Tick
Tock
The ticking of the clock, normally a soothing rhythm, now seemed to mock your escalating discomfort. It was as if the universe was conspiring against you.
Evie's voice, soft and laced with genuine concern, pierced through your turmoil. Her honey-brown eyes, filled with empathy, met yours, and in that moment, you felt exposed and vulnerable. A strangled sob threatened to escape your lips, but you managed to suppress it, replacing it with a shaky exhale. Your grip on the bed sheet tightened, a desperate attempt to ground yourself. A feeble excuse formed on your lips, a claim of oppressive heat, which Evie accepted with a sympathetic murmur.
As she moved to the third button, a knot of anticipation formed in your stomach. Her fingers brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. The delicate tendrils of her dark blue hair grazed your chin, carrying the intoxicating scent of mint that seemed to seep into your senses. Unconsciously, you leaned in, drawn to her comforting aroma as if it were a lifeline in a stormy sea.
"There, all do-" Evie announced triumphantly, her face breaking into a smile as she looked up at you. Unprepared for the sight of you leaning in so closely, her eyes widened in surprise. Every thought in her mind evaporated, replaced by a single, overwhelming impulse, as your eyes locked onto hers - a desire, a pull, a magnetic force drawing her closer. Her heart pounded in her ears as she tilted her head, her gaze dropping to your lips. Their lips were mere inches apart and then—
BAM!
The abrupt crash of the dorm door against the wall jolted them apart, their hearts pounding in their ears.
"You two idiots! They were about to kiss!" Mal's voice, laced with irritation, cut through the silence. Your heads snapped in her direction to find her sitting nonchalantly on her bed, a pillow clutched in her hands.
A wave of embarrassment washed over you both as you realized she'd witnessed the entire ordeal. Your mind raced, trying to decipher how long she'd been awake and if she'd seen the desperate grip you'd had on the bedsheet earlier.
"Mal – oh, why's she here?" Carlos's voice echoed through the room as he stumbled in, Jay trailing behind him. Jay caught the pillow Mal had tossed in his direction and hurled it back at her in playful retaliation.
Mal caught the pillow with a practiced ease, her eyes rolling as she regarded the newcomers.
"They were about to kiss," she repeated, a smirk playing on her lips.
"We weren't!" you stammered, your voice barely a whisper, but your words were cut short by the sharp, insistent sound of your brother's voice calling your name. Your heart pounded in your chest as his voice grew closer, the panic rising within you. "You guys have to hide me!" you pleaded, your voice rising in desperation.
"Come on." Evie's hand found yours, her grip firm and reassuring as she pulled you towards the closet. Together, you squeezed into the cramped space, your bodies pressed close together, as Mal quickly shut the closet door, muffling the sounds of the approaching chaos.
A low, indistinct voice, muffled by an intervening barrier, reached your ears. It was your brother's voice, inquiring about your presence.
"I heard her voice!" Chad exclaimed, his tone filled with alarm. "Did you kidnap my sister?!"
Mal's response was swift and defensive. "Why would we kidnap your sister?"
Their voices began to fade as Evie's fingers gently turned your head, forcing you to face her.
"Be honest, do you know?" Evie inquired softly, her face partially illuminated by the dim glow seeping from outside the closet. Her voice was as gentle as a whisper.
"Know what?"
A playful chuckle escaped her lips as she placed her hands on your shoulders. "That I like you, Dummy."
Your mind raced as you tried to process her confession. "You do? But I like you too! I thought you liked my brother, because I overheard you and Doug talking about a charming sibling, and I- I thought you were straight becau-" Your stammering attempt at explanation was abruptly halted as Evie's lips met yours.
Surprise washed over you, but you instinctively responded to the warmth of her kiss. Her hands found your waist, pulling you closer as your knees threatened to buckle. The taste of cherry lip balm lingered on your tongue, Your heart pounded in your chest, sending a rush of excitement through your body that felt like a cascade of fireworks exploding within your stomach.
"You're an oblivious idiot." She chuckled, pulling away from the kiss with a playful smile. Her eyes sparkled as she took a moment to admire yours, her hands gently cupping your cheeks. She leaned in slowly, savoring the moment before kissing you again.
Summary: You come home late after hanging out with Lonnie and she's jealous.
Words: 2.6k
Warnings: angst? Idk, not proofread and unresolved feelings. Doesn't follow the descendants plot, let's all pretend they all still share dorms okay pookies?
A/N: made this in 3am when I randomly got a brain fart, 10 yr old me would be so proud of embracing my gayness for Evie, also so glad the fandom is alive again.
The cool night air nipped at your skin as you tiptoed towards yours, Evie's and Mal's dorm—though, considering Mal mostly slept at her boyfriend Ben's dorm, it might as well have been yours and Evie's. But Tonight, you prayed for her presence, a silent plea to the universe to spare you Evie's wrath for your tardiness. Holding your breath, you gently turned the door handle, feeling a cold shiver run down your spine. You nearly sighed in relief when you found it unlocked, but your efforts to sneak in quietly went to waste as the door suddenly swung open, blowing stray hairs out of your face. Your heart pounded as it revealed, Evie. Her striking blue hair seemed to amplify the icy coldness of her expression
"Where have you been?" The dark blue-haired woman spoke in a flat voice, her expression stony. You knew what this meant.
Or did you?
Your body went slack under her intense gaze like a deer caught in headlights.
There was a strange contrast between her imposing figure and the ethereal glow cast upon her by the moonlight filtering through the window. She looked... Hot breathtakingly beautiful- You're doing it again! A wave of heat flushed your face as you shook your head to clear your thoughts and quickly averted your gaze to look over her shoulder, spotting one lit lamp and no sign of the purple-haired girl. You cursed under your breath and looked back at Evie. Your breath hitched as she tilted her head, eyes half-lidded, expecting an answer.
You sighed and finally gave in. "Me and Lonnie were hanging out at her dorm... and I didn't realize how late it got."
"Of course, you were at her place again." Evie rolled her eyes and scoffed.
"You were supposed to help me tonight. You promised." she reminded you, and you missed the slight quiver in her voice.
"I'm so, so sorry, Vie! I got really caught up in—" your mind raced, trying to find a plausible excuse. 'You got really caught up in ranting your growing feelings for Evie to Lonnie,' your inner voice taunted.
Crossing your arms against the chill of the hallway, you wondered if it was the cold seeping into your bones or Evie's icy glare that made you shiver, or maybe both.
As if sensing your discomfort, she grabbed your arm and dragged you into the room, slamming the door behind you. Your body gradually warmed, but Evie's cold stare remained fixed on you.
She turned away with a sigh, heading towards her bed. There, she grabbed a stylish blue jacket accented with black before returning to hand it to you. Hesitantly, you slipped it on, finding solace in its warmth and the lingering scent of her.
"I can still help," you offered, your gaze wandering over her surprisingly tidy desk. It was odd. Usually, it was a chaotic mess of patterned papers, colorful threads, and half-finished projects. She always cleaned up the next day.
Weird.
"It's fine. You should rest. You look exhausted from whatever you and Lonnie were up to," she said, her voice dripping with barely concealed disdain. You didn't notice it though, of course you didn't.
Had their fencing match really been that intense? You attempted to fix your hair, though you doubted it made a difference. A vivid memory surfaced of your earlier debacle with Lonnie, where you’d spent the entire session hitting her with the blade while rambling about Evie, all on the misguided advice that it would help.
Clearly, it hadn't.
"Vie, are you okay?" You ventured deeper into the room, her eyes holding an unreadable emotion.
"Yes,"
"Are you sure? You don't look it. If it's about not being able to help you like I promised, I'm really sorry, Vie. I'll make it up to you, I swear! I'll even make Lonnie—"
"Yes! I'm sure!" she interrupted, plopping down on her bed. "Sleep."
"Alright...if you say so," you muttered, letting the matter drop. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you flopped onto the bed beside hers. You rolled onto your back, facing Evie's turned form.
Five minutes later, sleep remained elusive. You tossed and turned, counting imaginary sheep to no avail. Frustration gnawed at you. Opening your eyes again, you found Evie still restless, her body shifting as she searched for a comfortable position. With a creak of the bed, you gave up and stood up.
You hesitated, biting your lip as you leaned towards her seemingly sleeping form. A gentle tap on her shoulder was your next move. This couldn't be weird, right? You two had done this countless times as kids. You're doing this platonically, Right?
"Can I-" Your words were cut short as a strong hand yanked you onto the bed beside her. She rolled over, facing away from you, a muffled "yes you may" escaping her lips. Relief washed over you as you slid under the covers. Her warmth was comforting, a familiar sensation that brought back memories of countless childhood nights spent huddled together against the cold. This was how it was supposed to be, you realized. You'd do anything to preserve this moment, even if it meant burying your growing feelings deep down. For now, this was enough.
Evie turned to face you, a soft smile playing on her lips as she watched you sleep. Your mouth was slightly open, and you were snoring lightly. A fleeting thought crossed her mind, a dangerous impulse to kiss you. But it was quickly dismissed as she reached out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. a gentle gesture that belied the turmoil within her.
Her mind raced back to earlier. Why were you so insistent on spending time with Lonnie? What could she possibly have that Evie didn't? She was prettier, smarter—well, at least in her own mind. And yet, you'd broken your promise to help her with her shop, a lie she'd made just to keep you close. It was a desperate plea, a transparent attempt to cling to your presence. Was she jealous? The thought was absurd. She didn't like you...or did she? No, it was just protectiveness, pure and simple. If only you knew how she truly felt.
Her gaze drifted to your lips, and she found herself tracing their outline with her thumb. A wave of fear washed over her. What if you left her once you discovered her feelings? The thought of losing your friendship was unbearable. She would do anything to maintain this fragile balance, even if it meant burying her emotions deep within.
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