#A little sunshine goes a long way

[truths33k3r4]

drop this sunflower🌻into the inboxes of the blogs that make you happy! lets spread a little sunshine ☀️

(feel free to not spread this if you don't want to you just make me happy :>)

Awww thank you, Indieeee! 😊💙 This is so kind! Your blog and comics make me happy too~ ☺️ Thanks for the sunshine, my friend.

~ Melissa

[accio-victuuri]

family dinner with shengyang { SBMS Episode 7 } ☀️

[teaboot]

how could you like the colour yellow

see a therapist immediately

I actually used to hate it! Like, actually despise it! Yellow was too bright, too loud, discordant, unruly, and clashed with everything. Nothing like what I wanted in my life, nothing I wanted to be.

When I first moved away from home, everything I owned was black. Jet back. As black as I could get. Smooth, cool, sleek, discrete, calm, unassuming. Flexible, cohesive, agreeable black. Fashionable black.

I had a really, really bad time. Unrelated to the decor. It was my first year out of a toxic place I'd grown used to my whole life, my first year acknowledging a mental illness I'd believed to be normal, my first year fending for myself with very little money or sleep or companionship.

I'd grown up on instant white rice and unseasoned ground beef. One day I realized that everything I'd been raised on tasted like cardboard. While out on an assignment, I passed a tent with a woman selling spices, and bought myself some turmeric. I went home and tried making curry with it. It was so yellow.

Another time, my professor took us out to a modern art gallery. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but when we got there, the whole building had been painted bright sunshine yellow.

The artist's theme was "happiness".

What it is. How we make it. How to share it.

All bright, lovely yellow.

The house I grew up in was beige. The walls were white. The appliances were post 9/11 stainless steel. My job was to be quiet, compliant, presentable and agreeable.

Black goes with everything. Black is neutral. Black is quiet, reserved, elegant and mysterious.

Yellow is warm. Yellow does what it wants. Yellow tastes sweet and spicy and hot and cool, like a summer breeze, like sunflower petals, powdery like dust on a long dirt road and soothing like well-worn linen.

I still like the look of black. I like the look of most colors. But I like the way that Yellow makes me feel.

Do you understand?

[airybcby]

If I Could Never Give You Peace

( bllk boys when your secret relationship is leaked by paparazzi)

a/n — wrote this on a whim after listening to peace by taylor swift

content — some nsfw but not explicit, fem! reader, cursing , all characters are 18 or 18+, slight ooc maybe?, some characters are repeated

synopsis — what happens when your relationship is leaked?

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' i'd give you my sunshine, give you my best ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' everyone thought you'd broken up '

listen, you knew dating a good soccer player in high school was a big deal, but you didn't realize how big of a deal it really was when he went pro.

this was the same boy ( now man) that you'd been dating since you were 14, so nothing really changed your views on him. if you could love him through his awkward phase, and he could love you through yours, there was no way you'd break up.

again, you didn't realize that your relationship was such a big deal. it wasn't that the two of you were a secret, it was more of a 'private not secret' situation.

so when the two of you woke up in your shared bed because of just how many notifications the both of you were getting, you knew something was up.

and low and behold, something was wrong. when you opened any social media the first thing you saw was a strangely amazing photo of you and your long-term boyfriend kissing. really, if it wasn't a paparazzi photo, it would be your lock screen.

"aren't we just the cutest?" he asked you, phone thrown back onto his bedside table as if he didn't have a care in the world. (and he really didn't, not in this case)

truly, the only thing that may make him angry in this whole situation is the fact that he got woken up far earlier than his usual routine by all the commotion.

but of course, as he was dozing back off, you were reading the comments, as any loyal significant other would.

soccerluvr45: omg is that is gf from high school? i thought they broke up

okay, yeah. he had a rather public instagram account in high school that his rabid fans had found that had pictures of the two of you, but you'd never broken up?

reading through the many comments, it was like everyone had collectively decided the two of you'd broken up.

"mhm...just ignore it. the pr lady will deal with it." he mumbled as he grabbed your phone from your hands, laying it beside his before wrapping his arms around you.

"go to bed, 's too early to deal with all this."

his fans were silly, if they could see you with this bed-head man right now, they'd see there was no way the two of you would ever break up.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, yo hiori, NIJIRO NANASE, hyoma chigiri

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' pr nightmare '

anyone who knew your boyfriend knew he was...a little extreme.

and unfortunately for you, this also applied when your relationship became public because of a slight slip of focus from the two of you. it wasn't that you were trying to keep your relationship a secret, you'd already been together a year now, but you also weren't trying to out yourselves.

yet, one singular minute when the two of you slipped away to the bathroom together at a soccer banquet...well lets just say a paparazzi was scarily ready to snap someone, anyone's, photo.

so here you were, sitting in a terrifyingly big office with your boyfriend and almost his entire management team.

"do you know what this could do to your reputation?" his manager asked. "it's just two adults doing adult things, they should've been in that bathroom! that would've gotten them—"

"okay, sir..."the pr woman cut him off, ever too enthusiastic to be talking about your private lives.

"you just need to ignore all of this until it goes away, alright? no press interviews after games anymore," she sighed as if this was basic comprehension. (your boyfriend wasn't the smartest but he also didn't need to be treated like an idiot.) "and no posting on any social medias for the time being. do you understand?"

"yeah, yeah. no talking to the grown men after games. and..."he grimaced at the thought of his next condition. " c'mon is posting on my socials that bad? i don't post about us anyways."

"at. all." and the room felt as icy as the pr woman's stare.

"yeah, no, okay i got it. no social media."

after another thirty minutes of this, with them saying basically the same stuff to you (even though you had no real social media presence anyways), you guys finally left.

"no fucking posting? what if i have to talk about a game coming up?" "i'm sure she knows how to do her job, love." you soothed your boyfriend as you got in the car the company arranged to have you two taken up with.

"yeah, well whatever. give me your hand," and who were you to say no to your boyfriend?

he took your hand and placed it on his neck, a place where you could see a few bites and hickeys if you really looked hard enough.

before you could protest he took a picture, posting it on his VERY public account with the caption...

' i love my woman ;) '

before turning off his phone completely.

"let's see them try to get ahold of me now."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ RYUSEI SHIDO, tabito karasu, EITA OTOYA, oliver aiku

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' what picture ? '

how do two chronically offline people realize their relationship is now under scrutiny by the entire world?

the simple answer is...they don't!

you've never been interested in social media the way other girls your age had been. really, you'd rather just watch a video essay on every little topic that interests you than sit and watch six second videos then scroll all day.

to say the least, fast and forever changing social media just wasn't your thing.

and your boyfriend? he hardly even used his phone. unless it was for business or you, the thing was practically shoved away somewhere he couldn't care less about.

he would rather be reading or spending time with you out on a date...which is exactly the predicament the paparazzi put you in earlier this week.

the two of you were photographed having a little picnic and reading date at a small park that was pretty far out of town, assuming no one there knew, or even cared, enough to take a picture, but alas, someone did.

you and he had spent the rest of your week in pure, relaxed bliss. he had a game on saturday, so besides him going to practice and working out, the two of you stayed inside almost all week to prepare for the rather hectic weekend.

to say the game was a nail biter would be the understatement of the century. after two additional times, it was your boyfriend who scored the winning goal.

of course, you cheered the loudest, not noticing plenty of fans eyes on you unlike how many used to just chalk you up as an ecstatic fan.

as the post game interview came for him, you decided to stay closer to the door just incase it ran short. sometimes it was a one and done for him and others the questions went on for at least fifteen minutes, it just depended on his mood.

of course, the first question was about his game winning goal, but the second one threw him and you for a loop.

" what do you have to say about the photos of you and your reported girlfriend that have come out this past week? "

"...huh? what photos?"

eventually, the two of you did see the pictures, and all you could do was laugh because...how had you two not found out about this?

and you also made the picture your phone lock screen, but he didn't have to know that.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ RIN ITOSHI, reo mikage, SAE ITOSHI, chigiri hyoma

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[ + your faves ! ]

i wrote this in about an hour, and i think it shows but i had to get it out of my brain :))

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[kquil]

REMUS LUPIN | TEMPER

sum. : remus is usually a grump, as dismal as a cloudy day and you're his sunshine, whether he accepts it or not -- he denies it vehemently until his sensitive nerves make him lash out the day of a full moon

length : 2.2k

tags. : grumpy remus ; sunshine reader ; opposites attract ; angst with a happy ending ; remus is a meanie ; reader is stubborn ; a little ooc remus lupin ; fluff ; angst

navi. | more remus lupin

Remus thinks you’re strange. He didn’t know of you until you made yourself known to him, wearing the brightest smile he had ever seen on a person. It was like the sun breaking through a stubborn wall of clouds on an otherwise dismal day. He wasn’t usually the extroverted type, especially with Sirius, James and Peter as his best mates so he was surprised that someone like him managed to catch your eye.  

He was perfectly fine with being a silent presence in his close group of friends, appreciating them for their companionship despite knowing of his ‘furry little problem’. He hardly interacted with others outside his small group and preferred it that way. So when you suddenly appeared before him, he didn’t know what to do with you. 

You had a horrible preference for appearing whenever he was reading in the library – something he enjoyed for academic and recreational purposes. James, Sirius and Peter never understood his fondness for reading so left him alone whenever he simply wanted to read. He was more than comfortable with having only himself for company until you started sitting with him. That was how you first got to know each other or, rather, how you made him your ‘friend’ but not by choice. 

“What are you reading there?” your chirpy voice cuts through the silence that first day. Hoping you weren’t talking to him, Remus ignored you and, instead, brought his book closer to shield his face. “Hello?~” you sang softly after a beat of silence and he could hear the smile in your words. Finally, Remus looks up but only spares you a brief once-over. He was being rude, yes, but so were you for interrupting his reading. Remus also couldn’t stand seeing your bright and sunny gaze for longer than he’d be willing to stare directly at the sun. He’s half convinced he’d burn himself if he looked at you too long.

“Frankenstein,” he answers quietly, hoping you’d leave soon enough… but that was wishful thinking on his part. 

“Oh! A muggle book? That’s pretty cool.” there’s a pause after Remus gives an acknowledging grunt but nothing more. Please go away!  He remembers pleading to himself as he tried to find where he last left off – you were too distracting, “May I sit with you?” Remus goes to give you a judging look but you’re already sitting in the seat across from him when he looks up. He glares at your happy disposition, unaffected by his obvious disapproval, much to his irritation. His annoyance flares sharply as he emits a low growl from deep within his chest but there’s no response from you. You’re as immovable as a mountain. He has no choice but to accept his fate and does his best to ignore you in favour of reading. 

However, in doing so, he had deeply underestimated how determined you were to disturb his peace. 

From his periphery, he sees you pausing in your own reading to stare blatantly at him from across the table. Your first few attempts were, somewhat, sneaky but, over time, you eventually gave in to an obnoxious stare. Remus felt like he couldn’t turn a single page without you eyeing his long fingers. Your eyes peek out from over your book and Remus has to fight himself to keep from getting lost in your curious, twinkling eyes. 

“What do you want?” he snaps agitated and suppressing the horrible urge to grind his teeth menacingly at you. A disguised effort to resist your infuriating charms. Someone this annoyingly persistent shouldn’t be so adorable. 

“Sorry, I umm…. I just wanted to know what your Frankenstein book was about…”

You were polite and sweet with the decency to appear, somewhat, ashamed of your behaviour —it was very cute— but that only seemed to rile Remus up even more, “Read it yourself.” he snaps again and continues reading. 

He doesn’t feel bad for snapping at you, which is why he avoids your gaze entirely. In his efforts, he manages to make more progress with reading and doesn’t realise how much time has gone by until the ache in his neck makes him look up and see you asleep atop the table. Rolling his eyes, Remus packs his things and leaves you to return to Gryffindor Tower — he’s not a babysitter so he shouldn’t feel guilty and he shouldn’t look back. But he does alert the librarian about your presence so that she gets you up instead. 

Remus doesn’t see you until a few days later when you happen upon him in the library and disturb his peace once again. When he looks up this time, however, his eyes manage to linger on your smile before you direct his attention to a copy of Frankenstein in your hand. It makes him raise a brown in silent question. 

“I got the book to read as you suggested,” you ramble on more than is necessary. At least your voice isn’t super annoying, it’s actually quite nice to listen to, “I haven’t read much yet but it’s really good so far. It’s not like anything I’ve ever read before. You have a really good taste in books,” by this point, Remus has already buried his attention back into the pages of his current book and tries to zone you out with only minimal success, “May I sit with you?” that question immediately catches his attention and he almost snaps his neck in half, looking up to firmly reject your attempts. 

“No–!” but he was too late as you were already sitting down and smiling innocently from your seat across the table. He frowns deeply and sighs loudly, making his annoyance obvious but you’re unbothered and already have your book open. His eyes narrow, perplexed at how someone can act so brazenly. He notices the stray hair that falls out of place, the slight crookedness of your collar, the focus in your eyes, the softness of your skin and the gentle curve of your face… You’re so annoying! “What edition do you have?” he suddenly asks, his voice rough and disinterested as if he couldn’t care less whether you answered him or not. He wasn’t interested at all; he just needed to desperately put an end to his earlier train of thought. Hopefully, your response would irk him again and he could return to being rightfully irritated by you. 

“Oh um…” you flick to the very first page of the book, “I have the 1818 edition, why?” you’re smiling sweetly and he scoffs, turning his head away. His ears had become a bright pink beneath his hair. 

“No reason…” The two of you return to reading your individual books while Remus hopes you don’t register the subconscious hum of approval he let out. He’s only happy you’re reading the original, unrevised version. 

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

The two of you have become an unusual pair that is often seen around Hogwarts. Many have criticised you for always trailing behind the tall Gryffindor, and despite his cold, impartial disposition towards you, Remus is the first to put an end to such ‘annoying’ talk. 

“Stop talking about things you hardly know anything about,” he would often use his tall height to glare down at those same, clueless people, demeaning them further. And, although that should have been the end of it, many persisted to the point where James, Sirius, and Peter also stepped in when neither of you were around to defend your unusual pairing. 

“Thank you, Remus,” you would chirp at him but receive no response in return. It was odd that, despite his cold shoulder, you persisted. Always wanting to be his friend, always smiling so easily, always greeting him with a friendly tone. It didn’t make sense to him. 

Deep down, Remus wants to keep you. He thinks you are adorable; you are a shining light to a monster like him, and he knows he doesn’t deserve it. Whenever you stand particularly close to him, he savours the warmth you radiate. And whenever you talk, no matter if it is nonsense, he always listens, even if he pretends to ignore you by doing something else entirely. He keeps you at a distance but also wants you close at the same time – he was confusing even himself! 

He was grateful for your consistency, however. Grateful until the week of the full moon. 

You are consistent, and that was something Remus always appreciated about you. But it has become Remus’ main point of irritation for the past few days. Everywhere he looked, you were there, smiling brightly as always, but his sensitive nerves have grown intolerant of you; as soon as he sees you approach, he turns away and hurriedly escapes your company. It scares him to feel so genuinely irritated by you that he doesn’t dare lash out. In the beginning of his friendship with the Marauders, he had lashed out at them too, but their determination for a close bond kept them together. He knows how persistent you can be, but losing you is a thought that makes his blood run cold and leaves an awful taste in his mouth, worse than any potion. 

True to your character, however, you manage to corner him after three days of avoidance, the day the full moon would finally appear in the night sky. It was only a matter of time, but why today of all days? 

“You have the worst timing…” Remus mutters to himself as you innocently tilt your head in question. Usually, as perceptive as he is, Remus would have answered your silent question by now, but he remains silent. The still pause stretches on between you, and Remus uses it as the perfect opportunity to turn away and begin walking off. However, you are adamant about not letting him leave and hug his arm to anchor him down — this is the closest the two of you have ever been. Although Remus never raised a hand at you, his violent flinch to escape your touch makes your heart stop. “Don’t. Touch. Me!” he growls lowly through clenched teeth, his expression making you freeze up. 

“I-I just…” Under his intimidating gaze, you deflate and confess honestly. “I missed you…I haven’t seen you in three days, and you’re my friend. I was really worried. Did I do something wrong?—” 

“If I walk away, then that means I don’t want you anywhere near me!” Remus glares coldly at you, his face crumpled into one that completely replaces his once gentle features. He is unrecognisable. “Leave me alone!” With that, he turns and leaves, a boulder in his stomach and a bitter taste in his mouth, with the still silence ringing in his ears. He needs to get a hold of himself; he can’t believe he lashed out at you like that. Hopefully, you will leave him alone from now on, at least until after he has recovered from his transformation. 

Remus was halfway down the hall when the silence was finally broken by a soft sniffle and a suppressed whimper. He stops completely in his tracks. He dreads turning around, frozen in place in his fear that he had made you cry. The soft footfalls that follow as you walk away prompt him to turn and rush to you, desperate to correct his mistake. 

“I’m sorry!” he shouts, his heart thundering in his chest as he runs to you. It isn’t until he sees your heartbroken expression and the tears falling from your eyes that he drops to his knees and hugs you around the waist, burying his face in your stomach as he repeats his apology over and over. It is overdramatic, in hindsight, but in the moment, he can’t think of any other way to keep you from completely turning away from him. His lycanthropy has taken so many things away from him, and now he is about to lose the one thing he would fall apart without. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean it. Please forgive me, love,” 

Never before had you heard such affection in Remus’ words than in that moment. You don’t know what compelled him to be so incredibly mean, but his softened, pleading eyes, as he looks up from where he presses his cheek against your torso, have your knees weakening. 

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Ever since that day, Remus was found to be always trailing after you, always touching you and eagerly leaning down to hear you better. He loves peering intimately into your beautiful eyes and getting to smell your sweet fragrance. He now insists that you sit in his lap every time you join him to read in the library together. Feeling you close and getting the chance to hold you in his arms is an addictive feeling that Remus will never tire of. 

“Let me carry that for you, love,” Remus’ soft whisper has you hypnotically handing over your books as heat rises up your neck, “I’ll make you to class, today,”

“You walk me to class every day, Rem,” you giggle and smile as he presses a kiss to your temple and nuzzles your crown affectionately. 

“What about it?” there isn’t a trace of malice in his voice, only warmth. 

“Nothing~” he doesn’t let you go easily. Before you begin walking to class, he holds your chin and tilts it up ever so slightly, guiding your lips to meet his own in a soft kiss. 

“Good morning, sweetheart,” his loving eyes and soft words make you melt. You��ve never had a more perfect morning.

“Good morning, Rem,” 

navi. | more remus lupin

a/n : this is dedicated to my darling friend @cheriiepies who's birthday is new years! i hope you enjoy this short imagine/oneshot, my lovely! i just hope i managed to include everything you wanted to me to include. and HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE! I hope you're surrounded by all the love and happiness you deserve on your special day!

[ssweetleaf]

set phasers to stun.

summary: joel wants you to sit on his face— you think you’re far too heavy for something like that.

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

includes: SMUT 18+, face sitting/cunnilingus, dom!joel, i wrote this with an age gap in mind, but it isn’t really specified so make it up girlies, a bit of spanking, slight insecure!reader, pet names (honey, girlie, baby, babygirl, sunshine) a tad of a daddy kink (i’m sorry, it’s me, what do you expect?)

a/n: sorry i’ve been gone again, i’m back in my pedro pascal phase and this just came out of nowhere lol. let me know what you think. dividers credit goes to @saradika-graphics <33

“Quit your whinin’ and sit the fuck down.”

You were hovering over Joel’s face, thighs twitching and burning from their position, careful not to bump any part of yourself into him— too scared to fully sit yourself upon his face like he had so desperately asked for earlier in the day.

“Joel— m’too heavy,” you muttered, cheeks heating, shifting your weight from knee to knee and hands on the headboard, knuckles whitening from your firm grip.

He lifted a big palm against the cheek of your ass in a sharp, searing slap, quelling your whirring thoughts for just a moment, the burn of his hand print thick and heavy upon the globe of your ass.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growled, teeth clenched, eyes boring into yours from underneath you and you would’ve frowned at the sight of the protruding pudge of your belly when you looked down, but the constant smoothing of his callused hands against the soft rolls and swells of your body had you stifling it.

“Now listen here, honey,” he huffed, shifting his face to the side to press a few spongy kisses to the thickness of your thighs. “I ain’t gonna tell ya again.”

Joel was firm with his words, the low timbre shooting throughout your core and flooding your folds with a surge of arousal.

“Y’gonna take a seat, and y’gonna ride my fuckin’ face till I say you can stop, y’hear?”

“Joel, I—Ow!”

Another spank, on the other cheek this time, but just as hard, the print blooming in the shape of his calluses and the ring on his finger.

“Girlie.” The fond pet name was now a word of warning, almost daring you to disobey him. “Sit, now.”

You swallowed thickly, and with a shaky breath you lowered yourself down, easing onto his handsome face, the broad slope of his nose prominent against your slit, and you gasped at his deep inhale, breathing your scent deep into his lungs, almost savouring it before nudging your clit with the tip of his nose.

Your lashes fluttered, threatening to close once he mouthed a kiss to your pussy lips, teasingly sucking your folds into his eager mouth, careful to avoid your poor, puffy clit and keep you on edge.

“Look at this pretty cunt, hm?” he cooed, gruff and thick, muffled slightly from between your thighs and beneath your soft belly. “She’s been beggin’ for this, baby and you’ve been keeping her from me.”

His tongue peeked out from between his lips, swiping a long, fat stripe from your slick, fluttering hole, to the engorged jewel of your clit.

“Oh!” You whined, threading your fingers through his thick curls, tugging slightly once his lips enveloped your pearl, suckling it into his mouth, humming into your heat, the vibrations sending shockwaves throughout your cunt and you moaned out at the feeling. “Joel, fuck.”

He pulled back only slightly, brow raised and eyes dark and glistening— a big palm squeezed at the fat of your ass. A little warning.

“Language.” he clicked his tongue, turning to nuzzle into the thickness of your thigh, biting into it with dull molars and sharp canines, urging another wave of slick to surge your poor cunt.

“S-sorry!” You squeaked out, nails scratching against his scalp the way he liked as a little apology. “Keep going, please.”

You could feel his smirk against your flesh, tongue swiping at the marks he bit and sucked into the sensitive skin of your thighs.

“There she is,” he hummed, “now ya beggin’ for it, aren’t ya, baby? Knew you’d come around some time.”

Joel dove back into your cunt, lapping crudely at your hole, picking up silver strings of arousal on his tongue before lolling it over your peaked clit— smacking kisses to it, practically making out with your poor pussy whilst humming happily into your heat.

“Just needed some persuadin’, huh, sunshine?” he spoke into your pussy, voice muffled and barely legible through your hazy brain. “Just needed your ol’ man to eat this pretty pussy from down here, didn’t ya, babygirl?”

You cried out, nodding profusely at his filthy words and personification of your cunt, tears ebbing at your waterline and slowly easing over.

“Been havin’ so much trouble with my damn back— just layin’ here while you ride my face is so much better, sugar.”

Knowing your man wasn’t in pain, that his usual achy back and knees were quelled and sated by his current position, instead of the place he so often took between your legs with a hunched back and sore knees, had you relaxing somewhat.

‘Makin’ y’daddy a happy man, baby,” he groaned, fisting at the fat of your hips, leaving you tight and secure against his face. “fuckin’ dripping down my throat.”

You could feel the tightening in your belly, coiling throughout your insides, warming you up and leaving you panting, fisting at any part of him you could find.

“J-Joel,” you panted, chest heaving up and down, up and down, nails in his scalp, in his shoulder blades, even reaching behind you at his thighs. “so close.”

Your speech was clipped, lips stuttering and drool slipping from the corner of your mouth.

“Ah ah,” he shook his head, lips still suckling at your clit after every other word. “None of that, you ask for daddy’s permission— you know what to do.”

You whined again, long and drawn out, bucking your hips and huffing out— there was a warmth upon your cheeks that blossomed, creeping down your neck and teasing the tips of your ears, all shy now when asking your man to cum.

“Please, Joel,” you sighed out, thighs squeezing at his ears, clamping him tight underneath you. “can I cum? Pretty please?”

“Please, what?” He huffed, gruff and quick, tongue lolling and rolling over your spit-slick clit before thrusting the pink muscle into your quivering hole. “Ain’t got all day, hon.”

“Daddy— please, daddy! Need’a cum.”

“Atta girl, such nice manners— taught you good, baby girl. Cum f’me.”

[bisexualiteaa]

Crazy For You

Silco X Fem Reader (SMUT!!!)

Synopsis: You’ve been with Silco for quite some time now, but in that time there was one little fact he hadn’t known about you yet.

CW: MDNI! Established relationship, age difference, power dynamic, cursing, brief mention of needle, no use of y/n, mention of smoking/cigars, first time, vírgín reader, female anatomy, fïngering, 0ral (fem recieving) p in v, unprotected seggs, cream 🥧, c0rruption kǐnk, sunshine x grump dynamic, possible OOC Silco, possible grammar/spelling errors, proofread

AN: Arcane has come around again and placed me in an absolute CHOKEHOLD AGAIN. But it got me out of a writers block rut so I’ll take it as a win! I do hope you all enjoy! ♥️

You smiled genuinely at Sevika as you made your way into The Last Drop, offering her a shy wave as you made your way to his office. Before you could even speak, she offered you the answer to your yet-spoken question. “He’s in his office, just finished up a meeting” she answered gruffly, to which you nodded your head in acknowledgment. “Thank you” you replied kindly before entering his office, not catching the look in her eyes as you turned your back and entered. She would never understand why he’d taken such a liking to you, in her eyes you were naive, weak. Nothing more than a distraction during a time of stress, where distractions were far from what was needed. Not to mention he was at the very least, twice your age, and that fact alone gave her a bad taste in her mouth. Yet she knew better than to speak on these thoughts, so she kept her comments to herself. However, that never stopped her from giving you looks behind your back when you’d come to see him, or scrunching her nose when she would spot you two together. You weren’t ignorant to this, but you knew better than to challenge her over something so trivial, taking the glares and moving along.

Upon your arrival, you were immediately hit with the heavy waft of smoke clinging to the air, the familiar scent of his cigars that he often smoked when he was stressed filling your nostrils. You closed the door quietly behind you, not wishing to startle him should his mind be in a busy place, instead opting to walk further inside to quietly stand near him at his desk. As you treaded closer, you found his lithe figure leaned back in his chair, eyes glued upwards towards the ceiling, arm raised and taking a hefty drag off of the cigar between his fingers before lowering it. You watched as the smoke billowed from his mouth momentarily as his jaw hung open some before blowing it into the air, forming a neat ring that mimicked the shape of his lips as he exhaled. You’d wondered for a moment if he’d even heard you enter his space, normally receiving some sort of sound of acknowledgement or gesture when you did, but you knew better than to assume that Silco was ignorant to anything that goes on around him, especially in his own office. So you decided to speak up instead.

“Long day?” You asked with sympathy in your tone, your soft, sweet voice something so foreign in The Last Drop. Or perhaps something rare in Zaun all together. You watched as he closed his good eye, giving a groan in response as he rubbed his temple with his free hand, telling you all the things that couldn’t be properly put into words. You saw the syringe sitting on his desk, telling you he’d yet to give himself a dosage due to the headache likely ebbing behind his eyes. “The longest” he finally replied, his voice almost nothing more than a tired rasp. He opened his eye to watch as you made your way over to him, sitting on a portion of his desk that wasn’t being occupied by papers or anything else of importance. You reached your hand out to caress his cheek before softly running your fingers through his hair, tucking away any strays that had fallen away from his neat, slicked back style. A loving gesture that didn’t go unappreciated, earning a heavy sigh from him as he leaned into your touch. “So much stress, so much weight on one man’s shoulders alone…I only wish there was more I could do” you said, looking upon him somberly to see so much tension, to see the lines beginning to run deep beneath his eyes, the sleepless nights beginning to take their toll. You knew well that he would never allow you to partake in any dealings with his business, that he strictly keeps you and his work separate for the sake of your wellbeing. However it didn’t stop you from sympathizing with the fact that he carried a lot of stress because of it.

“There is plenty you do for me” he stated, snuffing out his cigar in the ashtray on his desk before prepping the syringe for his eye, placing it in your hands. You never enjoyed having to do this, knowing it was painful for him but you knew it was something that had to be done. You were honored to be the one that he trusted enough to do it however. You moved to the edge of the desk, your hand cradling his cheek as he leaned back before bringing it to his eye and injecting it. You pulled the needle away as he grunted in pain, slumping forward in his chair as a single, purple tear streamed down his cheek. Your other hand came to the scarred side of his face with the intent of using your thumb to wipe it away. Before you could, his larger hand came to your wrist as a reflex, gripping it tightly but you didn’t waver, smiling at him softly in reassurance as you gently wiped it away for him, showing him softness he often felt he didn’t deserve. He relaxed as you did, the aspect of your tenderness in such a rough place as Zaun was something he was still getting used to. He often wondered what he did to have caught your heart. Why you, someone so sweet, so gentle, so kind would choose to tangle yourself with such a hardened man as himself. Perhaps there was something of a truth to be said about the saying “opposites attract.” Your softness brought him solace on the days where the stress ate away at him, your kindness such a difference from the majority of the undercity. It was refreshing.

You both sat there in his office, a comfortable silence falling over you as you rested your head against the plush backing of his chair, enjoying the intimacy of being close to him, even in silence. Your faces hovered closely together still as tension hung thick in the air, thicker even than the smoke still lingering from his snuffed out cigar. Moonlight funneled in through the large window, its pale rays reflecting in his eyes as he looked upon you, trying to calculate what your next move was going to be. You weren’t exactly sure what spurred the moment on, whether it was the fact that you’d missed sharing intimate moments like this with him the past few weeks due to all his work, or perhaps something deeper, but you leaned in to close the distance. “Perhaps I could help somehow” you suggested, voice no louder than a whisper.

To his surprise, your lips captured his in a sweet kiss, one that held passion in it, feeling in it as opposed to the fleeting kiss of someone purely acting on desire. Your hand lay flatly against his chest as you initiated the moment, fingers dancing along the fabric of his tie as your lips worked against his. His hand came up to cup your cheek tenderly as you kissed him, lips chasing yours hungrily, stealing the very air from your lungs. The taste of tobacco and smoke lay heavy on his lips, combining into a taste that was so very him. You felt his free hand settle gently on your hip with a soft groan, holding you close to him, grounding himself and allowing all else to leave his mind for a moment as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, an attempt in deepening the kiss. When his ministrations were met with a teasing giggle that bubbled delightfully from your throat, and your resistance in parting your lips, he gave a breathy chuckle upon looking at you. “Playing that game, are we?” Silco asked, making you grin before he chased your lips once more, this time his teeth caught your bottom lip, giving it a playful nip. You gasped softly as he did, allowing his tongue the chance to tangle with yours, fighting in a battle for dominance that he of course, won. A soft moan left you as his fingers dug into the fabric that clung to your hips, gripping your plush flesh nearly bruisingly tight as yours found purchase in his neatly done hair, hearing him groan into you once more. The gloss on your lips, the sweet taste of whatever drink you’d had before coming here, it all contrasted him so starkly. You were gods damn addicting. No drug, not even shimmer could compare to the taste of you on his lips, the feel of your softness against his own skin. The sounds of your sweet voice, beautiful laugh and melodic moans. Everything about you was tooth-rottingly sweet, contrasting his harshness perfectly.

When he pulled away finally, allowing the both of you a chance to breathe, he couldn’t deny the sight before him was absolutely divine. Seeing your pupils blown wide with lust, looking to him with that twinkle in them that spelled mischief mixed with love in a way only you could ever provide. Your plush, kiss swollen lips now shining slightly with your swapped saliva as your chest rose and fell with each staggering breath to fill your lungs with much needed air. This was all new between you. Sure you’ve shared kisses before, that wasn’t new, but that look in your eyes, that tone that dripped with seduction like honey, those were new and it most certainly caught his interest. His hand came to grip your chin, fingers resting below it, tilting your gaze up to look him in the eyes as his thumb grazed your bottom lip. “Such a sweet thing you are, my darling” he spoke, making you flush at his words and your heart flutter at the term of endearment. “All for you, Silco” you replied genuinely, making him chuckle as he leaned forward to lay kisses along your throat, treading carefully yet curiously. He watched as your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, seeming to enjoy the feeling judging by the sighs of pleasure leaving you and taking the tilt of your head back as a show of your consent for him to continue, allowing him more room to explore your sensitive skin. Your hands gripped the edge of the desk tightly, doing your best to hold yourself up as you bit your lip in attempts to keep yourself quiet. However you couldn’t help but let a worry that weighed heavy on your mind begin to eat away at you as you realized where this was heading, something you’d yet to tell him. Something he needed to know should things between you both continue. “Sil, can I…can I tell you something? I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now but never figured out a good way in bringing it up” You explained cautiously as you peeked your eyes open, your voice holding much trepidation in it despite the sweet sighs leaving you as his lips found and abused the sensitive spot between your shoulder and neck.

You watched him pull away, looking at you with interest as you nervously fumbled with the fabric of your shirt beneath his intense gaze. He waited patiently for what you had to say, a brow raised with intrigue. “I haven’t…I- I’ve never…” you tried spitting it out, fumbling over your words trying to find the right way to say it but no matter how you tried to word it, the idea of actually telling him put your stomach in knots, terrified of his reaction potentially being negative. You felt ashamed almost, scared that your inexperience would potentially scare him away, but he needed to know. “I‘ve never been with someone…intimately” you finally admitted, a blush burning along your cheeks as you finally said it, making a flash of surprise raise to his eyes as he looked at you before a grin stretched to his lips. You waited for a sigh to escape his lips in annoyance, or for him to reject you upon learning this fact. Yet none of that ever came. No, instead that lustful look in his gaze still remained, only now it was clouded with a sort of darkness that you couldn’t quite place.

“Is that so?” He asked, making you shake your head yes nervously in response, finding it hard to hold his gaze out of embarrassment. “I understand if that makes you not want this anymore…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier” you spoke meekly, looking up at him with those doe eyes that made him so very weak. He looked to you before smiling softly, caressing your cheek tenderly in reassurance. The sweet gesture contrasting all the dirty thoughts running through his mind now at your admission, ideas of tainting your innocence, adding a poison to your sweetness. Ideas of corrupting you just enough to find out what really lies beneath that sugary sweet exterior. It was driving him wild. “Sweet girl, that doesn’t make me want you any less. Quite the opposite in fact” Silco responded, making your shoulders slack with relief, your heart pounding rapidly in your chest as you returned his smile. “Did you tell me that because you’d like for this to escalate?” He asked, his large hand that was once resting at your hip, now dragging down to rest against your thigh, so close yet so far from where you needed it the most. You looked down to see his hand there, splayed against your plush thigh, admiring how big it was against you. It left you wondering just how good it would feel gripping you, touching your bare skin, absolutely ruining you even before looking up at him. The look in your eyes as you did stirred a fire within him. “Yes. Want you to ruin me, please” you begged, making him groan at the thought. “Ruin you?” He asked curiously, his voice a bit deeper now, the rasp in his voice only fueling the fire stoking within your core. “Be careful what you ask for sweetheart, you might just get it” he finished, making you look at him with a grin, telling him that his warning wasn’t taken as an air of caution but rather as a challenge. “I’m a big girl Sil, I can take it” you answered boldly, showing him a side of you that he’s never seen. Now he really needed to know what lay beneath your surface. “Want you to show me, wanna make you feel good” you added, unaware of just how far you were pushing his self-restraint.

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours again, only this time with less sweetness to it and more hunger, kissing you with a fiery passion that was ignited by desire festering within him. You moaned into it as his hands scoured your body, hands mapping out your soft skin as they made their way to your breasts that lay exposed to the cold air of his office. Your shirt and bra were long discarded at this point, lying on the ground beside his desk in a haphazard pile, completely forgotten as he flitted between massaging your tits in his hands and his fingers toying with your nipples. Your blissful sighs and sweet moans allowed his tongue to bully its way into your mouth, fighting in a battle once again for dominance that you were all too happy to let him win. Your hands once again found purchase in his hair, carding through his dark locks as his hands continued their descent. You gasped into it as his hand came down to cup your clothed cunt, a quiet whine leaving you as you rocked your hips against his unmoving hand, yearning for any kind of friction or stimulation to soothe your throbbing clit. He gave a dark chuckle at your show of desperation for him as he laid you on your back on his desk, caring not for the papers that scattered around as he swiped them out of the way. You watched as he broke the kiss to stand, leaving you to reach out for him as he looked you over in this state. “Patience, darling. You’ll get what you asked for” he assured, making you bite your lip with anticipation as you watched him discard his coat, leaving it to sit on his chair before returning to you. His gaze was hungry, ravenous even as he looked you up and down before his fingers found the button of your pants. “Y-You want to do this here?” You asked meekly, heart slamming in your chest as you watched him undo the button of your pants with ease before reaching for the zipper. “You said you wanted me to ruin you, did you not?” He asked, knowing well that he did not mistake your words, but paused to ensure he wasn’t crossing any boundaries. “Yes but…I figured you’d rather continue at home. What if someone hears?” You asked, head hanging over the other side, looking to the door to check and make sure that no one had tested the handle or tried to come in. His cock throbbed at the sight, thinking of taking you just like that. How your breasts would bounce with each harsh thrust of his hips, your body writhing in pleasure as he used you. It wasn’t a bad thought, but maybe one for another time, this was your first time and he didn’t want to hurt you. Not too badly, anyway. “Then let them hear as I ruin you, otherwise you’ll just have to keep quiet, won’t you?” He asked as he worked your zipper down, fingers stopping at the waistband as he looked down at you to ensure your consent. “W-What if someone sees?” You asked making him give you a crooked grin. Now there’s a thought, but again, for another time. “Then let them see” he replied confidently, leaning down to speak into your ear before coming up enough to look at your reaction. The mere thought sent a shiver coursing down your spine, something that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Silco.

“Oh? But perhaps that thought doesn’t bother you as much as you let on, now does it?” he asked in a more condescending tone, making you flush darker as he grinned wider, knowing the answer just from that wild look of excitement in your eyes. It was then that he removed your pants, finally pulling the offending fabric down and off of you, tossing them to the side with the rest of your clothes. You felt so exposed, the cold air bringing attention to the dampness in your panties. “You like that thought, don’t you? The thought of someone hearing as I ruin you? Or someone walking in to see you bent over my desk, hmm? Dirty girl, I knew there was something in there deep down that was naughty” he said, leaning in closer to you before whispering in your ear. “Show me more” he said, his lips trailing down your neck as his fingers dipped past the waistband of your panties to toy with your sopping wet cunt. You moaned as you felt his skilled fingers begin to circle your clit, eyes fluttering shut in bliss as he sucked a hickey into your soft skin. Gods how he loved the sound of you, each moan, each sigh, each gasp, they all went straight to his cock that sat hard beneath his pants, throbbing with need. But Silco was a patient man, he knew his pleasure would come soon enough, he needed to discover more of you first. “Go on, let them hear you. Let me hear you” he spoke against you as his mouth descended lower, trailing past your collarbone before dipping to take one of your nipples in his mouth as he worked you with his nimble fingers. “Gods above, Silco…!” You moaned, no longer caring for how loud your voice was, no longer pretending to care if anyone were to walk in or to hear you. It simply felt too good to care anymore.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he sucked one of your pert buds between his lips, nipping at your sensitive skin before laving his tongue soothingly over his bitemarks. You were thankful you’d come here in a shirt that covered well, because it didn’t take long for bruises and bitemarks to blossom along your chest, neck and collarbones. Though part of you didn’t mind the thought of them being seen, a show of marking what was his, claiming his territory for anyone that dared come too close. Dared to question. You watched with earnest as he continued to trail his lips downward, his eyes locking onto yours as he scattered searing kisses along your stomach, below your naval before kneeling between your legs. The sight sent a pleasant tingle to your core, but the embarrassment of being so exposed for the first time to someone like this made you cover your eyes with your arm as you let out a pathetic whimper.

“You’ve never had someone pleasure you like this either, have you?” He asked blatantly, making you shake your head no in response, knowing well that your voice would betray you should you try to speak. “Would you like me to show you?” He asked, making you move your arm a little to peek at him as he settled one of your legs over his shoulder, still working you with the fingers of his right hand as he looked at you expectantly. His left hand glided up your outer thigh, coming to rest on your hip, massaging your skin and occasionally dipping to grope your rear. “Y-Yes, please. Show me” you pleaded, making him hum in response as he littered kisses along the insides of your thighs, trailing up to the apex between, just barely ghosting past where you needed him most before continuing his work on the other side. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, working you up, teasing you, toying with you. Silco was a man of many things, patience, skill, power, but fairness? Fairness was a line he treaded very thinly, even in an intimate setting. Yet that anticipation was exactly what made it feel so good when his lips finally did reach your clit, replacing his fingers that were now working to split you open.

You moaned even louder as he did so, skilled tongue abusing your aching clit as his fingers eased their way into you, working you open on one before sliding in another. Your hands sought purchase on his head once more, nails grazing his scalp as he wrapped his lips around your pulsing bundle of nerves, sucking on it. Your back arched from his desk, mouth open in an O shape as a moan left you in both surprise and pleasure at the intense feeling. “Shit, Silco…fuck, feels so good, please don’t stop” you begged, both feeling and hearing him groan into you at your taste and the sight of your squirming body writhing on his desk as he ate you like a man starved. You could hear the squelch of his fingers as they moved in and out of you, paired with the faint flutter of his tongue. It was sinful, the cacophony of sounds coming from between your legs, but all it did was spur you on. A burning tightness began to set in your lower belly, like a coil winding tighter and tighter the longer he focused on your cunt, you felt your body begin to run hot, signaling that your orgasm wasn’t very far. Your hips moved against his tongue, fucking yourself on his fingers as they rubbed against your walls, curling in a come hither motion to find that sweet spot deep inside that had you seeing stars. It was so much at once, all so new, so foreign, but so good. It embarrassed you a little with how fast your orgasm came to you, washing over you like a tidal wave, leaving your head to fall back off the side of the desk as your hand held his head in place. The sight of you, keening from his desk, head hanging over the edge as you came on his fingers and tongue felt as if it were a scene straight from a wet dream.

When the last wave of pleasure finally came over you, he stopped his movements against you, not wanting to overstimulate you. At least, not quite yet. You watched as he stood back up, working at his pants to finally free himself from its confines. You couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like beneath it all, how big he’d be, your curiosity was killing you. Thankfully you wouldn’t have to wait very much longer. You shot him a pleasure drunken, half-lidded smile, sitting up half way to watch him pull himself free from his pants, enjoying the sight of him in front of you, flushed and hard. When he finally rid himself of his pants, you couldn’t help but admire the way it tapped against his lower stomach once freed, beads of precum leaking prettily from the tip. Your jaw slacked visibly upon the sight, a small smile working its way to the corners as you stared. Clearly you were pleased with the sight, which put his heart at ease. His confidence hadn’t wavered for a moment however, so you would’ve never guessed he was worried about what you’d think.

His fingers came to your chin once more, tilting your gaze up to look him in the eye, a crooked grin resting once again on his lips. “My eyes are up here, love” he said teasingly, making you flush at his dominant tone as he caught you ogling. “R-Right, sorry” you replied, making him chuckle. “Don’t be, I’m enjoying this side of you” he replied, making you smile up at him with relief. “Are you sure you’re ready for what’s to come next, darling?” He asked sweetly, ensuring you were still okay with what was about to transpire, leaving you room to speak up if you wished not to continue. While he might do things a little rough, he still cared about you, wanting to ensure you were comfortable, that this was truly what you wanted. “Yes, I’m ready. Please” you replied breathlessly, both anxious and excited as you smiled softly up at him, trusting him fully with this. “I’m glad it’s you” you finished.

You gasped as you felt him begin to push into you, the feeling akin to when his fingers were inside of you, but this stretch had more of a burn to it. His fingers didn’t have the width that his length had, leaving you feeling as if you were being split open. He worked himself into you as slowly as he could, allowing you the chance to acclimate to his size and the overall intrusion. You gripped his arm tightly, face scrunched up in pain, doing your best to breathe through it as he continued to slowly push inside. “Doing so well for me, taking all of me like this. You’re doing wonderful” he assured, watching as a single tear shed and slipped down your cheek once he was fully sheathed inside you, bringing his thumb to swipe it away like you did for him earlier. “It’s okay love, take your time. You feel so good wrapped around me like this” he complimented, trying his hardest to remain still within you as you got used to the intrusion. Silco leaned down to capture your lips in a tender kiss, allowing your mind the distraction from the pain as it finally began to ebb away, instead beginning to feel him throbbing from within you in excitement. You sighed into it as your body finally began to relax, your tense muscles unclenching as you melted into the kiss. Your hips moved against his, giving him the sign that you were ready for him to test a thrust. You both moaned in unison as he moved, the drag of his heavy cock pulling out some before thrusting back in had you seeing stars as you clung to him. He looked down at the space where your bodies were conjoined, watching himself pull out of you, then disappear within you, practically spearing you with his length. The sight was absolutely heavenly, but watching your body jolt with his thrusts, moans spilling from you as he reached deep inside of you was an even better sight. “Oh fuck, Sil…” you let out between breathless moans as he set a steady pace, his hips smacking against the back of your thighs rhythmically, making the sound of skin against skin ring through the room paired with your shared moans and the faint creaking of his desk beneath you. “Feel you so deep, feels so good” you let out, listening to him groan and whisper strings of curses by your ear as he fucked into you, his tip bullying the apex to your cervix with each thrust. “Thats it, take it. Take it all. Gods…you’re perfect” he spoke, resting his forehead against yours as your hands cupped his face, both of your eyes shut in bliss as you took in the moment. It was intimate in a way he struggled to convey, but he did his best to try for you. With you, what once felt so foreign felt as if it was getting easier and easier as the days passed. Perhaps you weren’t his weakness like everyone around him thought, like *he* once thought, but instead his strength. His strength to trust in compassion, in tenderness, to allow the icy walls around his heart to melt just enough. You were the very thing he’s been needing to come into his life.

All thoughts were lost on you, nothing else existed in this moment aside from the both of you here, joined together. No fears of anyone coming in, no stress weighing on your mind, no worries, just each other as your bodies tangled together. Your legs wrapped around his lithe frame tightly, caging his hips between your thighs and holding him close as your hands rested on his back, digging into the fabric of his shirt as his thrusts turned deeper now. The feeling was heavenly, feeling him hit spots deep within that you hadn’t even known were there. Your back arched from the desk once more, pushing your body against his as you reveled in this feeling, rolling your hips in time with his. “You’re playing with fire there, dear” he growled by your ear, making you grin at him mischievously with a giggle. “Maybe that’s the fun part. I like the burn” you replied, voice a little deeper, slightly hoarse from overuse but carrying saccharine seduction in your tone. You were starting to show that little bit of you that he’d been dying to find hidden beneath all that sweetness, the side of you only he’d ever get to see, making him grin at your response before kissing you. If he could fall in love all over again, he had in that very moment.

You moaned into the feverish kiss, a tangle of teeth and tongue as his hips began to move at a faster, much harsher pace. As he did, your voice grew louder in volume, finding the coil in your gut growing tighter and tighter as he continued to rut into you, feeling as if it may grow taut and snap at any moment. “Cum for me, darling. Let them hear you, let them hear how good I make you feel. I can tell you’re nearly there” Silco encouraged, making you nod your head yes in reply, knowing well that you’re long past the point of coherency at this rate. All you needed was one last push and you would be sent toppling over the edge. Thankfully he knew just what to do to get you there. His fingers came to circle your clit once more, the pressure paired with his deep thrusts had your every nerve ending on fire. “Fuck! Oh gods I-“ you got out, attempting to warn him of your impending orgasm that was approaching fast.

Spots speckled in your vision as your back keened from the desk, eyes rolling back beneath tightly shut lids as your orgasm washed over you. It was powerful, all consuming, and the most blissful sensation you’d ever felt, leaving your body weak as you fought to catch your breath. “Good, just like that. So good for me” he rasped, feeling your walls tighten around him as you came and it was apparent that he wasn’t very far behind you, judging by the lack of rhythm in his thrusts. You admired the way loose pieces of his hair fell into his face, sticking against his forehead that sheened with a thin layer of sweat. Your hand came up to cup his cheek once more, resting on the scarred side of his face as you smiled up at him with so much love in your gaze. “Cum for me, Sil. Wanna feel it” you encouraged as you leaned up to capture his lips in a soft kiss, rolling your hips against his, meeting his thrusts. As he finally stilled deep within you, you could feel his cock pulse as he spilled himself inside of you with a groan that rumbled deep within his chest. The feeling was new but wonderful, making you hum in delight at the sensation of being so full, so close with him as he kissed you back.

When he finally pulled away, you were both left to catch your breath, looking upon one another in both wonderment and fondness as you did. “I enjoyed that a lot, thank you” you spoke, breaking the brief silence that had filled the room with something other than the sounds of your joined pants for air. “No darling, thank you. You were wonderful. Thank you for trusting me with such a thing” he replied, kissing the top of your head gently, making you smile happily as you watched him tuck himself back into his pants before helping you down from his desk. He couldn’t help but grin as he watched you cling to him once you’d fully set your weight down, legs wobbling upon standing. It allowed him the chance to admire his work. Hickies that had blossomed into a dark shade of purple, littering your skin beneath your collarbones, accompanied by bitemarks adorning your shoulders and breasts while you were doing your best to redress despite the ache in your back and legs from the harsh surface he’d taken you on. Once you’d let go of his hand he sat back in his chair, enjoying the sight of you struggling to get dressed perhaps a little too much. His eyes trailed down your back to the curve of your rear, bringing to mind many an idea of the things he might do to you next time. This hadn’t gone unnoticed by you, as you turned to him with a grin of your own. “Enjoying yourself?” You asked with a playful grin, earning a scoff in amusement in response. “Quite” he replied pointedly with the same cheeky tone, looking you up and down with the same hunger from before, as if he hadn’t just rocked your entire world just moments ago. You made him feel youthful in ways he hadn’t in quite sometime, so alive. You couldn’t help but laugh as you finally managed to get your pants up, then threw your shirt on. “Don’t look at me like that. If you do, I can’t promise that it wont end the same way once we get home” you threatened teasingly, making him hum with intrigue at your words. “Is that so?” He replied, making you grin as you saw him continue to look you up and down, finding yourself surprised that he could still hold any hunger for you despite having just had sex. “I did say I wanted to aid in relieving your stress, however that may be. But next time, doing so on a bed doesn’t sound half bad” you quipped with a cheeky smile, making Silco laugh as you massaged your back to emphasize your point. “I tried warning you, play with fire and you’re likely to be burnt” he responded. “And I told you I could take it, did I not? And here I am” you answered boldly, taking on a more feisty tone that he wasn’t used to hearing from you. That didn’t mean he didn’t like it though. “Here you are. Make no mistake, if you keep that tone, I will not show the same mercy that I did” he replied, much dominance in his tone, face dropping to one that looked far less amused by your behavior, making you grin. “When will you get it through that brilliant mind of yours that perhaps *that’s the point?*” You asked with another cheeky grin, your hand smoothing through his hair before kissing his cheek sweetly, soon trailing your way towards the door. Your hand rested on the knob before looking over your shoulder at him. “Don’t keep me waiting long, dearest” you finished before opening the door, walking out with all the confidence of a changed woman, while he sat in his chair, shaking his head with a lopsided grin as the door fell shut behind you.

What was he to do with you? Or better yet, what would he do without you? The answer to either of those questions he didn’t know, but what he had known was that there was no greater motivation in bringing himself home than the one you’ve given him now, leaving him to chase your coattails with all the vigor of a man addicted. Shimmer hadn’t hold a candle to you.

[duskier]

141 x super fem reader <33

Price loooves that you love all those tooth rottingly sweet pet names. Pet, puppy, honey, angel, baby, sweetheart, good girl, sweet girl, princess, darling, honeybee, starlight, sunshine; you name it, Price has called you it. A thrill running down his spine at how he can call you a simple name and make you squirm and blush and smile. The prettiest, sweetest smile in the world and Price can never resist kissing it off of you.

Soap who loves to take care of your hair for you. Dyeing it, brushing it, straightening it, braiding it, washing it, conditioning it. All of it. He's got strong hands that love to carefully tangle themselves in your hair to massage oils directly into your scalp. Drags a brush through your hair with gentle attention until the brush combs through without a single hitch or knot. Buys you sweet smelling perfumes that you purposefully spray into your hair. You can see him swoon each time you spin your head around, your flowery lovely perfume instantly filling his senses.

Gaz who loves giving you the full princess treatment. You have to bully him into leaving his wallet at home after one too many times of you going shopping together and each thing you look at for a little too long Gaz is pulling his card out to purchase. Opens every door for you, from buildings to his car to your bedroom. Puts careful time and attention into every date- he surprises you with how skilled his cooking is. When you ask when and why he learned it, you see him turn away bashfully. His smile blinding when he looks back to you and says, "Well, I just learned it for you..."

Ghost who finds the little soft things around him and brings them to you. Like a crow collecting shiny trinkets, he goes to Paris? Comes home with a replica of a fine painting he saw in a museum there in his off time. A soft, satiny ribbon he finds overseas finds its way home to be your favorite hair accessory. That time he spent in Greece, the dress he brought you home was so soft and dainty you could weep- handmade, too. An absolute heirloom gem you felt you couldn't wear but he insists you wear it, spins you around in it to get a full view. Slow dancing together and he's so overcome with emotion he has to whisper: "You're so beautiful, love."

[moonchild9350]

Always

summary: you and Hyunjin have a peculiar relationship with your roommate Felix

pairing: est. relationship Hyunjin x fab!reader x roommate Felix

genre: sprinkle of fluff, smut-18+MDNI

word count: 2.7k

warnings: cockwarming, spanking, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, partner sharing, unprotected sex (don't), multiple creampies, squirting, nipply play, dirty talk, use of term slut

notes: short, sweet, and filthy lol I just love hyunjin and felix omg

If you enjoyed, consider a reblog, comment, or like as it keeps me motivated ♡

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

It’s the end of the day, the part where you start to wind down, your mind exhausted from the day’s activities. You’re sitting on your bed holding your penguin plushie as you scroll through your phone when you notice the time.

Seeing that it is almost seven, you sit up as excitement courses through you, your core clenching in anticipation for the evening that’s in store.

Hyunjin will be home soon after a long day at work. You miss your boyfriend dearly, the hours long without him.

At the thought of seeing him soon, you get up out of bed and shimmy out of your sweatpants and panties, leaving yourself in only his oversized shirt, the hem barely grazing your thighs.

You pad to the door and open it, making your way to the living room where a certain blond is sitting, his eyes trained on the tv…that is until you walk in.

At your entrance, Felix looks up and flashes the smile you have grown to love, all teeth and dimples, as he sets his phone down. He beckons you over, his tiny finger making a come hither motion as he invites you to sit on his lap.

You stand there for a moment, gazing at the beautiful man, your hands behind your back. You take him in, how the bulge within his grey sweats is ever enlarging, his cock twitching as you take one step forward.

“That’s it, come here sweetheart,” Felix purrs as he pushes his hair out of his freckled face.

You’re wet, incredibly so, as your body is trained almost like Pavlov’s dog. At the stroke of seven, you become horny, the thought of cock filling you up making the feeling almost unbearable.

You arrive in front of Felix and giggle, as your cheeks flush at the sight of the blond.

“Ready sweetheart?” Felix asks, his hands reaching into his sweats to pull his cock out, giving it a few strokes as he spreads the precum that’s leaking from the tip around.

You nod as you take in his hard cock, perfect and chubby, all ready for you.

He holds it steady as you straddle his legs and bring your core to his length. Felix helps you line his cock with your entrance as you experimentally lower yourself, sighing at the stretch his tip provides.

You left your hips up before bringing them down once more, this time taking all of him. You let out a whimper at feeling full, your pussy keeping his member nice and snug within your wet walls.

You wrap your arms around Felix and nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck as he holds you close. You just sit there, feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath, reveling in the comfort of being in Felix’s arms.

You relax further as his hands sneak beneath your shirt, his fingers gently trailing your back as he continues to watch the show on the tv screen.

And so it goes. You and your boyfriend have a particular arrangement with Felix, your roommate. He joined your little abode around a year ago, all sunshine and happiness, and thankful for you both taking him in.

As time went on and you three became closer, feelings of friendship turning into something a little more with each passing day. You were already dating Hyunjin, and Felix knew that, but he couldn’t let his feelings go to waste, confessing one day while at movie night.

You remember looking at Hyunjin, a smirk forming on your face at the confession. Little did Felix know that you both liked Felix too and were more than willing to open up your relationship to include him.

Felix was delighted, as the best case scenario played out. However, before he could get too excited, Hyunjin laid down some ground rules.

The first rule he imposed was you were his at the end of the day and only his, but Felix can enjoy the perks of having you close by, whatever those perks may be. He also demanded that Felix prep you and get you ready for him before he got home.

Felix readily agreed, as he got to be with you, feel you, and that was more than he had bargained for.

So here he was, “prepping” you by having you warm his cock. He loved how you felt around him, your pussy always warm and wet, your slick dripping down onto his pants, forming a constantly enlarging wet spot.

You both sat there for a while, waiting for the door to open and for Hyunjin to walk in. However, you were starting to feel needy, Felix’s cock feeling too good within you. You knew you were playing with fire, but decided to proceed, needing some type of relief as you waited for your love.

Smirking against Felix’s neck, you clenched down on his length while pressing wet kisses to his neck, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

Felix’s breath hitched for a moment before he recovered, lightly tapping your ass and gripping the flesh tight. You grinned before repeating the motion, this time feeling his cock twitch within you as he let out a low groan at the sensation. Felix gently rocked your hips over his cock, his length dragging deliciously against your walls.

You gripped his neck tighter as you breath caught, hoping he would do it again. However, Felix recovered, remembering that Hyunjin gets to have you first.

“Behave,” he said, his deep voice rumbling deep within his chest and flowing to your ears.

You let out a sigh, as you lightly nipped his skin, Felix jumping at the slight pain. You’re not sure how much longer you could wait, needing to move, to gain any type of friction to ease your aching pussy.

As you thought of moving again, the door opened and in walked Hyunjin. You watched as he dropped his bags and kicked off his shoes before walking over to the living area. He smiled at seeing the two of you, wrapped in an intimate embrace, as you warmed Felix’s cock.

“You two are adorable,” Hyunjin cooed, taking out his phone to snap a picture, wanting to add it to his ever growing collection of his two favorite people.

Hyunjin continued to gaze at you two, the blood flowing to his cock as he took in your flushed cheeks, your disheveled hair as you continued to nuzzle your head in the crook of Felix’s neck. He took in Felix, his eyes dilated and veins prominent on his hands as he gripped your ass tighter. He knew how Felix felt, your pussy too warm, wet, and just perfect.

“Ready love?” Hyunjin asked, walking closer to you.

You nodded your head, keeping your face tucked into Felix’s neck as Hyunjin wrapped his arms around your waist. You let out a moan as Hyunjin lifted you off of Felix’s cock, the sudden emptiness making your walls contract as he carried you bridle style to your bedroom.

He laid you down on the soft sheets and began stripping his clothes off, his eyes on you the whole time. You watched as his cock sprang free, as he dragged his sweats down his thick thighs, licking your lips at the sight.

“Take your shirt off love, you know the drill,” Hyunjin commanded as he stood before you in all his glory.

You shuffled to take the garment off, your tits now on display for your lover. You leaned back and fondled the flesh, watching as Hyunjin stroked his length.

“Mm spread your legs love, show me your pussy,” Hyunjin said, as he bit his plush lips.

He let out a moan as you spread your legs, your folds parting and displaying your wet entrance and puffy clit. You whimpered as you swiveled your hips, wanting to touch yourself to ease the ache. However, you didn’t dare touch what was his, wanting him to have his fill first.

“That’s it love, such a pretty pussy just for me.”

Hyunjin approached you, as he slotted himself between your legs. He leaned over you, his body hovering over yours as caged you in, his lips finding purchase against yours. He kissed you passionately as he brought his cock to your entrance, pushing the tip in with a swift motion.

You moaned loudly against his mouth as his cock speared you open, your pussy welcoming him in with no hesitation. Hyunjin smirked at your reaction as he snapped his hips into yours once, twice, as he pushed your body up against the bed with the force each thrust. He set a fast pace, as he pounded into you, his hips withdrawing until his cock was almost out of your pussy before slamming back in.

Loud moans rang through the room, as Hyunjin fucked you, so loud you’re sure Felix could hear you from the living room. However, that was part of the thrill, the thought of Felix with his cock out, his hands stroking his length, the thought of fucking you at the forefront of his mind.

You squealed as Hyunjin adjusted his hips, the new angle causing his cock to brush against your sweet spot with each thrust, the drag sending little shockwaves through your core.

You tried to say his name, but nothing came out, your mouth left wide open as Hyunjin brought you closer to your orgasm.

Hyunjin could tell you were close, as your walls clenched around him, attempting to keep him deep inside you. He listened intently as you mumbled words, the syllables barely audible as you became cock drunk, chanting that you need his cock and don’t stop.

He could never get used to your pussy, how wet you get as he fucks you, as Felix teases you as you cockwarm him every night. Your pussy was made for him, stretching perfectly to accommodate him.

“Cum in me,” you whimpered, hoping he would not pull out like he usually does.

You wanted to be filled, to have his cum stuffed within you, so much so that it leaks out and doesn’t stop.

Hyunjin was shocked at first, but quickly recovered, grinning at your words, more than happy to oblige.

“My love wants me to fill her up, breed her good hmm?” Hyunjin asked as he swiveled his hips against yours.

“Yes, baby please, breed me,” you whined as you locked your legs around his ass pulling him as close as you could.

Hyunjin sought out your lips, pressing sloppy kisses to them as he continued to grind into you, the neatly trimmed hairs rubbing against your clit with each thrust. He felt like he would go insane as your walls clamped around him, urging him to cum, your tits rubbing against his chest perfectly, adding extra stimulation to his sensitive nipples. He placed his lips right at your ear as he continued to whisper dirty words to you.

“Fuck this pussy, love. Gonna cum, breed this pussy so good that it’ll stick and make you a mommy.”

At that you let out a loud cry, the thought of carrying Hyunjin’s child causing you let go, your orgasm wrecking through your body. You clutched onto him as he continued to fuck you through your high, his pace never faltering.

You whispered in his ear, your litany of his name causing him to moan as he came, spurt after spurt of his cum painting your walls white.

You rocked your hips against his thrusts, holding him close as he finished emptying himself within you. With a shaky breath he stilled, collapsing gently on top of you.

You laid there for a while, your breathing slowly going back to normal as Hyunjin pressed lazy kisses to your neck.

“We’re not done yet love,” Hyunjin finally whispered in a sultry voice.

He got up, withdrawing his now softened cock from your core. You could feel his cum slowly seep out, the trickle forming a sticky path down your ass. Hyunjin tutted at the sight, his finger gathering his cum before stuffing it back inside of you.

“Need that to stick don’t we? Keep it in love.” Hyunjin warned as he gave you a stern look.

You nodded in agreement, as he maneuvered behind you. He brought you back against his chest, his arms wrapping around you snuggly. He pressed a kiss to your hair whispering sweet nothings as you both rested in the moment as two.

“Felix,” Hyunjin called shortly after, his arms still wrapped around you as he cradled your body.

The blond opened the door and walked in, a smile plastered on his freckled face.

“Sounds like Hyunjin took good care of you sweetheart,” Felix cooed as he got undressed. “Think you can take me too?”

You knew it was a rhetorical question as you would take his cock regardless but you answered nonetheless, wanting to please Felix.

“Give me your cock Lix,” you said, spreading your legs wide for him. Hyunjin gripped your thighs, bringing them to your chest to keep you open for him. Felix wasted no time slotting himself between your legs, his eyes trained on your swollen pussy.

“Would you look at that, you’re dripping in cum,” he teased. “Let’s just push that back in,” Felix grunted as he slid his cock into your pussy, a loud squelch echoing throughout the room as his cock pushed Hyunjin’s cum further inside you.

“You’re so wet sweetheart, take it all yeah?” Felix grunted as he slid his cock in and out in and out, your pussy letting both men know how wet you were with each thrust.

You whimpered as Felix began to pound into you, your eyes on his beautiful face. Your walls clenched at the sight of him falling apart above you, his hair falling in his face with the exertion.

You were about to reach up and grasp his face when Hyunjin let go of your legs and pinched your nipples, the jolt of pain sending waves of pleasure straight to you core.

“Ahh!” You moaned as Hyunjin toyed with your nipples, his fingers alternating between brushing against them and pinching them.

“Is Felix fucking you good love? Keep those legs open,” Hyunjin said, his voice right at your ear.

“Mm yes!” You said as you took a shaky breath.

“Love this pussy, just taking me. Look at that, sucking me right in,” Felix groaned his eyes trained on your walls stretching over his cock.

“Not gonna last long sweetheart, gonna cum, gonna give you my cum yeah?”

Hyunjin chuckled, his breath tickling your ear. “Hear that love? Gonna let Felix breed you full too?”

You were floating at his words, wanting nothing more than Felix’s cum within you.

“Lix give me your cum,” you begged as you spread your legs even wider, keeping them open just like Hyunjin instructed.

“Damn sweetheart, Hyunjin’s cum not enough for you that you need mine too? Are you our little cum dump?” Felix teased as he smirked.

You nodded quickly, little “mmms” leaving your lips.

As Hyunjin continue to play with your tits, he said in a low voice, “my little slut, gonna let Felix breed you too. Fill you up, give you his baby hmm?”

At the thought of carrying their babies, not knowing who the father was, you let out a loud whine, as you squirted, your walls contracting rhythmically around Felix’s cock.

The feel of you clamping down on him, holding him in tipped him over the edge, his cum filling your pussy, the fluid mixing with Hyunjin’s.

You whimpered as he pulled out, a gush of fluid leaking out down your ass and onto the sheets. You preened as Hyunjin whispered praises in your ear, his hands softly stroking your sides.

You watched as Felix left to go find a towel, returning shortly after leaving. He helped clean you off, before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Good night sweetheart,” Felix said as he gave you a smile. He then got up and snatched his clothes, leaving to go back to his room.

“Let’s get you ready for bed. Get under the blankets love,” Hyunjin said as he helped you maneuver under the warm fabric.

He got in next to you and pulled you close. You were on the verge of sleep when Hyunjin broke the silence.

“I hope it really did stick and you’re carrying one of our babies.”

You didn’t say anything but laid there thinking about what he said. You wouldn��t be mad but actually happy at the thought as you loved both of the boys.

And that was a thought that you knew would always remain.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

If requests are still open could I possibly get a fic about yuu getting boyfriends. Specifically that cute octavinelle boy or Jonathan, awh just dealing with nrcs crap and then come home to 2 cuties

Yuu and their Ugly Ass NPC S/O

I made a buncha random NPCs based on random Disney characters I hope you can tell who is who. GN, 2.7k words.

****

Yuu was the school heartthrob. How could they not be? 

They were kind, considerate And confident! They always stood up for others and themselves. I mean, they even beat several people’s asses — dormleaders even!

They're attractive and talented and smart too. Always so hardworking. It's a bit intimidating how a magicless human can keep up with a bunch of unruly mages.

Even the most tsundere students admire Yuu. Despite what the students said, a simple, kind-hearted and relaxed person was stronger than the lot of them. Something the students yearn for. A nice break from everyone's dog eat dog mentality.

Their charming laughter, their smarts, their strength… The way they smile… Their gentleness… The way they hold themselves…

So many people were vying for their affections, their attention… Waiting for the perfect moment to ask you out...

Can you imagine their surprise when you found love with a nobody?

Heartslabyul

Hatter?! Really?? That absolute kook??

He's so weird! Wears way too many hats and loves making them. His infatuation with them makes Trey's dental obsession normal in comparison.

Ace would have preferred it if you dated Riddle honestly. He can at least understand that. Also can everyone stop remarking how similar they are?! They aren't! He's normal and Hatter is weird!

Your relationship is none of Riddle’s business but he hopes Hatter’s eccentricities don't rub off on you too much. He knows how to find loopholes in every rule so he can dabble in his own insanity it's infuriating. You better not follow his example! Seriously he thought half a cup of tea meant he had to saw a teacup in half!

Deuce is happy for you! I mean at least you'll never get bored with Hatter around and his usual laughter. It is like having a second Ace around though…

Cater finds all the matching accessories he makes for the two of you so cute but he loves the drama in the school even more. Perfect romance novel Yuu with the class clown troublemaker… He's surprised you didn't get with Ace…

Trey is just happy for the two of you. You want someone zany to unwind with after a long day of having your shit together. He gets it. You two are a good fit. He hopes you can both have fun. Oh and can you ask Hatter to fix up his hat? It got a little frayed… thank you…

The school is in shock, horror, watching as Hatter is giggling and hanging off Yuu as they walk down the hall totally lovestruck. He's totally mad! Yet you love him! All of the perfect straight A students fall to their knees as they realize they're too put together for you.

What Trey surmised was right however. You always have to be your very best every day. Always be the voice of reason, always fix others’ mistakes, always set an example. 

With Hatter the stress melts away, replaced by wacky activities and childish fun. It's great to be able to drop the perfect student's expectations and be a little immature…

Savanaclaw

That dumb tiger Cheren? 

I mean he's a very nice guy. Tall, muscular, sporty… but a total idiot… 

He goes on and on about The Jungle Tiger of his people and how he's gonna be just as strong as him someday and how he's gotta work harder and there you are kicking your feet for him.

Your circle already has three idiots in it and now you're dating one? Leona remarks it seems you have a type.

He's pure muscle-y sunshine, always trying to help others…

If you liked naive goody two shoes boys so much you should have gone to RSA. Still, Ruggie supposes it's cute…

Funny even, watching you lecture him after he tried to smell sand by inhaling it. Oh poor poor Yuu, Ruggie shakes his head, you always make more work for yourself.

He and Jack are pretty similar. Work out partners even. He can admit first hand that your lover is most likely the strongest physically in the dorm and he's gonna surpass him some day!

There's times where your dates with the tiger are interrupted when you bump into Jack and the two end up challenging each other, throwing off your plans.

Not that you mind though as you get to admire his body and competitive spirit as he constantly looks over for your approval doing his best to impress you.

Jack will admit… It does feel a little weird how similar they are at times… Is he your type…? Huh…

You don't care what they say though. What they don't see is how much your boyfriend helps you behind the scenes. Helping you relax after a long day or checking up on you after school drama or how he plays seems to cheer you up.

Tutoring him and making sure people don't take advantage of his kindness is not the burden people think it is. It's an act of love. And you love your dear himbo tiger boy.

All of the muscleheads in Savanaclaw seethe… They just needed to be a bit stupider.

Octavinelle 

I'm sorry you have two lovers?? Twins??? The STINGRAYS??? CLAUD AND DARREN?

That was the exact reaction of everyone in the school when they heard news but especially Azul.

Your taste in men has to be a form of self harm, Prefect they swear—

They're just so… weird…

The kind of creepy twins in every horror movie. Always together. Always seems to read each other's mind. Holding hands in hallways. Always in sync. Finishing sentences. Matching smirks with empty eyes. The whole shebang.

And there you are! So kind and cool and just… you! You can fight yes, but unlike the Leech twins rumors, everyone is in agreement that those two have killed before. Look at them!! 

Do you have any self-preservation skills, Yuu? Are you safe? Blink twice if you need help, Jade says, he'll even do it free of charge. Hell, Azul’s gonna send his own twins over for a wellness check soon.

Is the shrimpy into scary twins? This is just perfect teasing material for Floyd. If you liked scary twins you could have at least asked them out or something. Those two just seem so… boring…

So secretive and polite-acting with all their fully thought out schemes– Where's the flavor?! Jade is in agreement. At least he and Floyd have distinct personalities.

Azul is just very baffled. Good for you Prefect but have you thought this through…? It's just you're the typical perfect crush people write in their diaries about and you're with them? It's oddly intimidating. Is there more to you he doesn't know?

A total powermove to have two scary boyfriends in this damned place. Despite all the rumors though, the two love you with their full hearts and are happy sharing. They both take such good care of you and no one bothers to take the time to get to know them.

They are both so vastly different yet similar. Mischievous and kind. The rumors mean nothing to you when they've been your number one supporters through the school year. Sides, if anyone upsets you they'll take care of it…

Scarabia

Ibadat?? The total birdbrain? Okay, yeah, seems you do have a type for cocky idiots given your friend group. 

The parrot is a very confident, extroverted personality with a bit of a mischievous streak… a real chatterbox and never thinks before he does anything. 

He is a bit of a scatterbrain and tends to get wrapped in so many things at once, yet is a very good schemer…

Jamil doesn't have any strong feelings about it. You're happy. That's all that matters. However he does like that since you’ve been dating him he causes less trouble in his dorm now. He can just go to you and ask him to sort him out.

Kalim finds it sooooo cute however and seems to be more excited for your relationship than either of you. A magic carpet is one thing– but being carried and flown around??? That's so much more romantic!

Students are flabbergasted on how you would want someone so forgettable as him. He barely stands out from most of the other students here… Doesn't seem to have any major achievements either.

What they don't see is the bird that takes out some of his feathers to decorate you with when you mention not having any special clothes. They don't see the praises he gives you. The lectures you receive when you push yourself too hard. The confidence he instills in you. The way he does all he can for you, always at your beck and call.

He never lets you doubt yourself for a second and you never doubt him either. 

Pomefiore

Raven… ah…

An interesting one at least. They are always a bit of an enigma among most students. Fashionable, beautiful, confident, yet mysterious. One of the best alchemy students in the school.

It should be no surprise that two beautiful and accomplished people get together, so why was it a surprise?

Well not one person can name anything they know about Raven. They hold themselves high, yet shy away from others. They are so prominent yet elusive. You may see them roam the halls yet never know where they go. They are elegant, yet have the most animated expressions. 

Does anyone even know their favorite food? Favorite color? Has anyone even heard them speak?? Why do they have so many oddities on them at any given time?

Vil doesn't care at all about the rumors. As housewarden, he checks over all of his dormmates. The birdfolk preens themselves well. They have good hygiene, good confidence, good grasp of their identity and who they are, and they're hard working!

He's never had to lecture or guide them once. With their attention to detail they always seem to notice what he expects without him having to say it either. So what they keep to themself? Eveyones allowed their privacy.

Rook is almost jealous. You get to understand the most mysterious student on campus? The one that captured their heart? You get to see them behind closed doors and know them on a personal level. Maybe even hear them speak if they do at all? Oh, how he longs to uncover their many mysteries himself… Ah, but what a beautiful love story! The trust, the passion. He is rooting for both of you. 

Epel doesn't trust it one bit. Nope. Nuh uh. Sorry.

No one even knows what they get for lunch. They strut down hallways with all eyes on them yet are quick to flee when spoken to? They are seen all across campus yet no one knows any one place they frequent? And they alway suck up to Vil like ugh!

They're bad news Yuu! No one good has that many secrets! The campus all agrees and it's totally not ‘cause they're salty!

Fools. If only they knew how sweet they were. All those times they saw Raven ‘wandering’ was them making their way to you. All those trinkets were offerings of courtship. The place where they disappear to is your dorm.

They're confident because they know they're talented. They flaunt because they're beautiful. People just want to pick them apart and know everything about them for the sake of their curiosity and not because they care, unlike you who doesn't expect anything out of them. Why wouldn't they open up to you?

The Fair Queen was said to have a raven that accompanied her everywhere she went, staying by her side matter what. They intend to show you how deep the loyalty of a raven goes. 

Ignihyde

FEAR???

Idia never thought he'd meet anyone more socially awkward than him. Fear leaves his room less than him!

The imp-man always looks like he's on the verge of a panic attack, he shakes every step of the way, everywhere he goes, and he's known to not even get a few words out. He wasn't even on the roster, he's that distant!! He lives up to his name for sure.

Even when you walk down the hall with your boyfailure in hand no one believes for a second you're together. You're just being nice and helping him go out!

So many students refuse to believe you’re with him. They're better! They can easily impress you more than that imp! And Fear tells you they're right… Boo! Bad Fear! You're wonderful!

Seriously if Idia realized he had this much Of a chance he might have considered taking it…

Ortho as a first year has seen him a bit more since he's friends with you and likes him a lot! He and Idy would be friends!! 

Everyone doubts his capabilities and mind. Tearing down his appearance with his horns and messy clothes. 

You don't let anyone talk cruelly about him and give your group of first years THE scariest lecture of their life when they dare comment anything negative about him.

If people did pay attention they'd know that Fear would come out of his room a lot. Whether as a bird that flaps around campus or a stray that frequents the gardens.

It's not his fault he has a severe stutter. You were the only one who bothered to wait for him to finish his sentences, even when the simplest ones took minutes. You never made fun of him or even brought it up.

They don't see that he loves you to the point of invention. How he makes so many things to make your life a bit easier here. How he frets over you and listens to your worries. All the little animals he becomes to cheer you up or look out for you from afar. 

The people who put him down never had a chance with you to begin with.

Diasomnia

Griffon…? Who is that…? Wait, did that statue just move…?

It was only revealed when Malleus of all people met him first. He invited you to a late night stroll to show you some of the wonderful gargoyles his dormitory has.

He was so proud to show you this new gargoyle he only recently discovered here. As he rattled on about this interesting find you paused. “Wait, that's not just a gargoyle… Griffon???”

The gargoyle suddenly moved at the sound of your voice, yawning a bit. “Oh hey Yuu…” he said, reaching over to drape over you. 

“...a talking Gargoyle…?” Your lover? 

The school had a small storm overhead as Malleus pouted. You're telling him there was a gargoyle student here and you didn't tell him? When you know he likes gargoyles? How dare you! He's so betrayed for a bit but his attitude changes when he gets to talk to Griffon.

Not only are they a gargoyle– they're a descendant of the goon race. The very goons that worked under the thorn fairy and protected the castle with their lives! Why he's honored… he even joined his club too! And he says the other gargoyles on campus say good things about him!! He can talk to them?! Oh Yuu, he wishes nothing but the best for your relationship!!!

Lilia is surprised he didn't see them sooner! Just like the goons he knew. Honorably sticking to the shadows. They always watch over others and save their energy to put their all into whatever task they must do when needed– you are very lucky indeed.

Griffon makes Waka-sama happy so he approves fully! Furthermore, goons are very loyal to Briar Valley and he's so happy you're recognizing the glory of fae culture! He can tell you even more about it later!

Silver has a new napping buddy… Griffon’s always so tired, saving his energy for when he needs it most. When he's caught napping in the rain the gargoyle stands over him to shield him from it and get some much appreciated moisture.

Griffon guards the school. Perched high in every hallway, outside every building, every classroom he attends. He steps in when needed and that's how you both met someone who was giving you unnecessary trouble and the statue from above swooped down to intervene.

Students wonder how it even works out. He's asleep almost all the time. He doesn't do anything . Even when he's awake he's always tired. And he always gets in the way of the class fights to break them up! A real stick in the mud.

Though it is true he is always tired, he is willing to defy his own nature to stay awake enough to talk to you. He is happy to leave his perch to be with you as well. It is a goon’s job to protect what they love most dearly. You are exactly that.

[urfavleo777]

the only thing i need in my life is soft morning sex with Joost and just being so needy and loving for each other🙏🙏 (praise kink makes my brain go brrr😩)

love your work!❤️

lazy mornings

joost klein x fem!reader

warnings: face-sitting, language, smut.

your eyes open lazily under the influence of sunlight from outside the window. you mentally scold yourself and your boyfriend for not closing the curtains, but you were too busy with each other last night to even remember.

it’s quiet, save for the soft snores filling your ears. with the way your body is tangled with joost’s, you feel his steady breathing, his face happily buried in the crook of your neck.

this is one of the first times you wake up first. usually joost is the early bird who gets up just before the alarm goes off. the result of opening your eyes first was last night's drinking with friends. joost, well he drank way too much. so it's inevitable that he'll wake up with a huge hangover.

“god morgen, beautiful.” his morning voice is always so deep — raspy. you shut your eyes again, murmuring a greeting back at him as he props himself up a little to kiss you on the cheek. “ouch, my head.”

“do you need medicine, love?”

“no,” he yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. “i need only you.”

you laugh, starting to run your finger along jooste's tinted cheek. he closes his eyes under your touch, enjoying each new movement. a blissful little sigh slips from his lips, as he nuzzles into your palm. you lean forward to smear a kiss against his forehead, overcome with fondness; warm lips lingering on his skin.

you admire every one of his features, ghosting your hand over his bare skin. he always looks beautiful, of course, but especially when he has his eyes closed. it is mornings like these you most adore — a quiet moment to contrast your loud, busy life. a moment alone with your lover, with your thoughts. when you stop the scratching, he grabs your hand and places a long kiss on it.

he hums, before whispering, lips tickling the edges of your ear on purpose, pouting, “mh, continue.”

he’s a little too pretty, like this. framed by the hazy sunshine, like something out of a dream. all soft clouds and gentle caresses, the scent of dried lavender, the pitter patter of rain against a windowsill. all things kind and comforting. 

“i don’t want you to fall asleep again.” you laugh quietly, burying your hands in his messy blonde hair.

you’re afraid that your heart might give out, if you look at him for too long.

joost finally opens his blue eyes and, you take back your words, he is even more beautiful than ever.

being in joost’s arms is pure bliss. the most grounding sensation you know, one that never fails to calm you down, no matter how stressed or anxious you’re feeling. with his broad chest and strong arms, his bergamot-scented skin. so doting, pressing little kisses to your shoulder, trying to console you. his hair tickles your cheek a little, but it’s comforting.

“what’s wrong, honey?” he questions, voice set on a low, particularly soothing lilt. coaxing, almost cooing — a tone that buzzes with safety. his big hands go to rest on your head and back, smoothing down your spine.

”nothing,” you sniffle. feeling a little silly. “you’re just too perfect. ‘s not fair.”

a pause. 

then, a chuckle bubbles up from joost’s throat. something fond and delightful unfurls in his chest, a kind of relief; a feather-light amusement.

”ah, is that so?” he drawls, a lazy amusement flickering through his eyes. playful. “don’t you have enough after yesterday?”

“never.” you shake your head, smiling deviously.

“sit on my face then.” he shuffles further down on the bed, lifting his head away from the pillow. “go ahead. make yourself comfortable.”

as you obey, you feel a tingling sensation down on your lower belly, butterflies awakening as you place your knees in between his head. “such a pretty look.” you squeal when he tugs your thighs closer, his mouth immediately attaching to your wet pussy. joost growls deeply, feeling the vibrations on your cunt.

your mind goes into a state of bliss, your hands grabbing his hair tightly. “that’s right,” he says between licking your cunt, “fucking grind yourself on me, mhmm…”

“oh, baby,” you whimper, closing your eyes as your hips unconsciously hump his face, “i think i’m gonna cum.”

he replies with a deep “mhm?” and doesn’t stop playing with your engorged, sensitive clit. he laps his tongue on your pussy like an animal, his big hands gripping your thighs so tightly that they might leave handprints.

your legs shake as you climax, your hands reaching behind you to grab ahold of his thighs. he licks all the cum spilled out of you.

but joost doesn’t stop.

your eyes expand when he continues to drink up all your juices, lapping his tongue against your throbbing bud again and again, nonstop. the overstimulation makes you pull away, but he stops you.

“we’re not done,” he grumbles, “not fucking done eating your pussy.”

joost’s mouth and jaw were soaked in your wetness, and that’s clearly what he likes. joost likes it messy, he likes to eat your pussy like it was his last meal. and seeing you on top of him like this — being a good girl to take his tongue, learning how to subdue the overwhelming sensations and instead take pleasure in them, he plans to reward you after this.

“i—i’m cumming,” you barely say in a whisper, mouth agape.

joost chuckles menacingly as you spill all over him once again. he watches in awe how your body trembles, struggling to keep yourself up.

“good girl,” he kisses your inner thigh. “you’re more valuable than all the medicines in the world.”

[kurikive]

CASUAL | danielle marsh.

— "is it casual now?"

6thmember!reader, situationship/fwb but nothing sexual, angst, fluff at the end i promise, dani swears, reader is a (closeted) lesbian, reader is horrible at reading people, written in 2nd person, they work it out on the remix

warnings : A LOT of internalized homophobia !! reader refers to herself multiple times as a predator but it's just from fear and insecurity, nothing actually predatory is happening in the story. extremely brief mentions of starvation

wc: 5.4k words

inspired by: Casual — Chappell Roan

you and danielle marsh are friends. more than co-workers, you're friends. although you don't have that much in common except for your age, it was easy to adapt to the harsh environment of the k-pop industry's training system with someone like danielle by your side.

she's always been a ray of sunshine in everyone's lives, you're not the exception. if you were in a bad mood, tired from waking up in the early morning everyday, worked to the point of exhaustion, danielle would be there rubbing your shoulders and saying something sweet like

"you're doing great, y/n! keep up!"

and then you'd smile at her, and she'd smile back, and you'd feel so much better, thanks to danielle.

you didn't have many interests in common. music taste, fashion sense, movie picks, food preferences, personality types, if anything you were almost her complete opposite. and yet, she sat in your bed every night while you scrolled on your phone, talking for hours until it the clock hits midnight and she goes back to her room.

danielle did most of the talking, and you carefully listened to everything she said. the enthusiasm in which she enunciated all her words was endearing to listen to, and it couldn't not bring a smile out of you. the girl never forgot to give you your chance to speak too, trying to get to know you better everyday.

there was one thing she could not know, however. that you're a lesbian.

if it was hard enough being gay in korea, it was ten times harder when you were about to debut in a girl group, in one of the biggest companies in the industry at the moment nonetheless.

there were times where the members would all gather and have girl talks, talking about things like movies, celebrity crushes, past boyfriends and all that stuff, and you felt left out every single time.

sometimes it's more a curse than a blessing that danielle notices everything, because when she asks, "who's your celebrity crush, y/n?", "what do you look for in a boy, y/n?", "have you ever had a boyfriend, y/n?", you never know how you're supposed to respond.

it wasn't safe. it'll never be safe.

you've known the girls for almost a year and there has never been an indication of the way they felt about the LGBTQ+ community. hanni was your safest bet, she seemed the most open minded, but then again you can never be sure.

they were all so painfully straight.

so you try your best to answer vaguely,

"i don't know.", "i'm not sure, i don't really think about that." they complain a little about your mysteriousness, but it doesn't take long for them to let it go and move on.

you don't know how long you have to keep pretending you're not sure. you are sure.

you like girls.

you don't want to keep pretending you don't. but how would they feel?.

they'd feel unsafe, uncomfortable, scared, exposed to a threat, a possibility of being prey to a predator, a little voice in your head tells you.

but you're not. you're not a predator. they know you're not a predator. you'd never do anything to hurt them, or make them uncomfortable.

so you keep pretending. but the shell is starting to crack, and a knot in your throat gets tighter everytime you hear your members ask "is he your type?".

your debut is only a couple months away. you pray to god hanni has noticed by now. she's your roommate after all.

you start playing some specific songs without your headphones in hopes she walks by or enters the room and notices. you hope she's the one that asks. but she doesn't, she never mentions the songs, ever.

so you move on to movies and shows.

when she catches you watching heartbreak high in the living room TV, she only says "oh they're aussies, right?"

when she sees you watching heartstopper on your phone while eating dinner she just says, "kit connor is soooo handsome."

she doesn't mention it when she goes into your room and you're playing but i'm a cheerleader on your laptop. but hanni has caught on.

and the next time she goes into your shared room, she closes the door behind her. you're in your bed, and you're staring at each other, both of your eyes shine with nervousness.

"can i ask you something?" she says from the door, so shakily you start fearing she's not going to take it like you wish she would.

"sure." you didn't mean for your voice to come out as quiet as it did.

it's a nerve-wracking couple of seconds watching hanni take a seat in her own bed and face you. she takes a big breath before asking, "do you- no, sorry. are you... gay?"

yes, yes, yes. i am a lesbian. i like girls. you want to scream, but the realization of reality strangles you and your throat feels so tight, and you can't say anything.

"it's not like there's anything wrong about it, i'm just... asking." she tries. you can tell she's trying. it's sweet that she's trying.

"yes." it's a struggle to get it out, and your heart starts racing, but just being able to feels like such a relief that you might start crying. but then fear washes down on you again when you can't read hanni, at all.

"i'm really sorry, hanni. i promise i'm not weird or predatory or anything, i would never try to make you uncomfortable and i'm sorry if i ever did. i promise i don't like you like that, not that you're not attractive or anything, that's not what i mean at all. i just- i would never like you like that, you're like my sister and i promise that i'm still the same y/n you met, i really hope this doesn't change anything in our-" she cuts off your rambled apology-slash-explanation with a hug.

"it doesn't. i promise." it hits you now, just now, that hanni knows. she knows.

"please don't tell the others." you're choked up, and that's the only thing you could say before the tears in your eyes caught up. i don't know how they'll take it, you want to say, but the only thing that comes out is a broken sob.

"i won't. it's okay, y/n."

you've grown closer to hanni than you'd ever thought you would. you spend your nights in your room talking and laughing and watching funny videos you send each other.

it's been a few months since you've debuted and you couldn't be happier. you had someone to rely on, someone who knows all your secrets and can trust her with them, and vice versa.

your career has skyrocketed and your popularity is through the roof, and although there are always negative consequences that come with that fame, it's been mostly great on your end.

danielle doesn't really hang out in your room to talk anymore. if you're honest, you kind of miss it, but she surely has her reasons, and you don't think too much about it.

you're currently in one of the vocal practice rooms at HYBE, setting up your phone to do a phoning live. you'd just finish your vocal practice and you had asked for permission beforehand.

after a few minutes of talking with your fans, recommending movies and talking about food, you hear a knock on your door. quite strange.

"yeah? who is it?" you yell loud enough to no cause any ruckus. the door slightly opens and a face peeks inside, "it's me!" danielle's signature smile shining brightly at you, "i saw you were live and wanted to come hang out."

you didn't even need to tell her anything before she was coming right inside the room to grab a chair and sit beside you. "well, come hang out then!" you face your screen to see danielle struggling to bring the chair closer to you, and you chuckle a bit. "dani's here, guys!"

danielle has always been very touchy; with everyone, that is. today was not the exception, resting her head on your shoulder, holding your hand and locking your fingers together, nuzzling her face in your neck, it's all things you're already used to.

it's never been more than just friendly showcases of affection, to you, at least. and you've also never been irritated by it, but there's some guilt you try to suppress.

you don't want to push her away, you're not uncomfortable with her actions, what is uncomfortable is her potentially finding out your sexuality and thinking you let her shower you with affection for your own amusement. you fear it. but you don't want to think about that right now.

you think about it again, however, when you go back home and open social media only to see videos and threads with thousands of likes and views compiling every sweet moment of affection that happened just mere hours ago.

there's a pang in your chest when you see the tens of delusional comments talking of how much they'd like to see you and your friend as a couple. it feels like you're being strangled, and you suddenly feel unwell, so you close the app and turn off your phone.

"i should watch a movie."

you fully believe your debut was your prime. everyday gets harder, scandal after scandal, comeback after comeback, day after day. you work really hard, your members know, your fans know. but it never looks like it's going to get easier.

you win awards, win some more, get another important deal, shoot another session, write another song, the cycle repeats although not in the same order. like a fucked up loop. you're so fucking tired.

you wonder how hyein is holding up. you care a lot for her, like your little sister. she seems okay, eating a bowl of yogurt and fruits in the living room with haerin and hanni. are you the only one having a hard time?

you need to relieve your stress, and there's really no other option other than going to the gym to work out. so you go back to your room to lazily change into your practice clothes and grab your backpack, "i'm going to the gym." you try your best to sound at least a little enthusiastic as you walk behind the living room couch.

"when are you coming back?" you hear danielle ask from the kitchen, a twinge of concern in her voice. "it might start raining soon."

"i won't take long. if i see it starts to get cloudy i'll get going." you try to put her worries at ease. your gym doesn't have windows, though.

you shouldn't have gone. you're not even supposed to go anyway. it's raining hard, and it might start storming soon. but your manager can't know you're here. one of the many downsides of being in a group with four minors and two barely-adults, you can't call any of them to pick you up. so fuck it, you're taking the public transportation.

kind of extremely risky considering you are literally in newjeans, but okay. what else is there to do? what you failed to consider is the only bus stop being about five blocks away. and the bus doesn't drop you off even remotely close to the dorms. so you're gonna be running in the rain and, fuck it again, you do just that.

the first five blocks to the bus stop weren't that bad, you didn't get soaked like you imagined, blocking most raindrops with your backpack over your head. you really should've just brought an umbrella, though.

good thing you brought a mask, at least. nobody seemed to recognize you on the bus. you take a seat as close as possible to the exit and take out your phone to hurriedly text the group chat.

i got a bit caught up, im omw

domt worry 2 much

ill b there soon :))

minji responds with a thumbs up, hanni leaves an "idiot" that gets a like reaction by haerin. you see danielle write and then stop writing about 3 times, but she ends up not sending anything at all, so you just turn off your phone and look outside for your stop.

it only takes a couple minutes of waiting to see the silhouette of your dorm building. you get off your seat and wait for the bus to halt at the next stop to get off. it's raining a bit harder, but there's nothing you can do except wing it.

and when you get off, you immediately put your backpack on top of your head and start running as fast as you could towards your dorm. you get some looks, but no one can possibly be able to recognize you, not at the speed you're going.

after a few minutes, your legs start getting tired not only from running, but all the exercise you did hours earlier. another thing you failed to consider in this mediocre, careless plan.

but you're almost there. and you're almost not soaked.

by the time you reach your building the only thing about you that isn't wet is your scalp. you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, it's probably one of your members, but you're almost there, you can't pick up.

you enter the gates of the apartment, and you're probably going to make a mess on the floor on the elevator, but your legs can't take it anymore, and you thank any god that hears your prayers when the elevator doors open and it's empty. you can't take more embarrassment right now.

the doors open once again and you try not to make much noise as you run towards your dorm. someone inside must've heard you fumbling with your keys because as soon as you find the right one the door is already open, a concerned danielle with a just as worried minji behind her. you smile at the sight of them. "hello!"

"get your ass inside!" you hear hanni shout from the couch.

you're drying your hair in your room after taking a shower and explaining the situation to your group members. just as you're about to turn on your phone to see what time it is you hear a knock on your door, "can i come in?" it's danielle.

"yup. come on in!" you answer a lot more energized than a couple hours before. danielle's not wearing her usual bright smile, but rather a more worried expression. "y/n, can we talk?"

you're confused. you've never heard or seen her like this before. she's obviously been worried before, she cares about you just as much as the others, but this time it's different. "yeah, what's up?" you try your best to respond calmly and tap a stop in the bed beside yourself, which danielle gladly takes.

"are you okay?" she asks as she settles down at your side. what?

"what do you mean?" you don't notice it but you start fidgeting with your own fingers. danielle notices.

"it's just," she tries looking somewhere else, but she can't help the need of looking into your eyes all the time, looking for some sort of sign, some crack, "i can tell you're stressed. you're tired and... if you need to talk i just want you to know that i'm here." her eyes are dripping honey and her hand is so warm when she grabs yours.

you show her a sluggish smile, "thanks, dani. i appreciate that." when you look back, her face is already finding it's way to the crook of your neck. "i'm just a little tired of everything. it really feels like i'm doing the same things all over again. i know we've achieved a lot as a group but i feel like i have nothing going on for myself." you sigh, danielle says nothing, urging you to continue.

"all the songs i pitch get turned down, my other drafts feel too personal to release as a group song. every song i write with the group in mind feels, i don't know, empty?"

your eyes unfocus as a wave of emptiness washes over you and the only thing you feel is a water droplet from your bangs fall and travel down your temples. and also the warmth shared by danielle's hand in yours.

"i just feel like nothing's going on in my life." you feel danielle's head leave your shoulder and you turn to look at each other at the same time, "i think i know how you feel." she says with the sweetest eyes ever.

"thanks for listening, dani." you smile at her, but it feels so strange when she doesn't smile back. she just stares, right through you. her eyes are so pretty; you've always known but this is the first time you've looked at them directly for so long (there's really nothing else for you to look at when she's so close to your face).

oh, yeah. in a sudden moment you were inches apart. you don't remember moving so it must've been danielle.

you don't really understand what's going on. maybe this is an eye contact battle and you're not supposed to blink. and you think for a moment you had it easy because suddenly danielle's pretty eyes are nowhere to be found and you're staring at her eyelids and long eyelashes instead.

before your brain even thinks of giving you the chance to mutter "i win!" in a silly manner, you feel your own lips getting shut. covered, enveloped by another set of softness.

oh. this is not what you expected at all.

what are you even supposed to do right now? well, pull away, obviously. but that could could give danielle the impression that you hate everything about this and, really, that's not true at all. it's good. well, not good, but- danielle is not horrible at kissing.

what even is happening, anyway? i mean, you're kissing. but what else? nothing feels like it's moving; it feels like time's stopped. there also hasn't been anything that has lead up to this happening.

so you're just left there, paralyzed, in shock, waiting until danielle pulls away. just waiting until she's done with you. until she's satisfied.

and it's until danielle notices that you're not moving that she realizes what she's done. she pulls away, shaken and distraught.

"y/n, i am so sorry. i don't know what came over me, i am so so so sorry. i really didn't mean to do that. please forgive me, y/n, i am really so sorry." at this point, danielle's voice starts to break. "i don't know why i did that, it's just, i don't know, you just looked good a-and we were just close and-"

"it's okay, dani. i know."

"no, y/n, i really am sorry. i-"

"dani, i swear it's fine." you grab her shoulder to reassure her, but is anything really fine right now? "i..." you don't really know what to say next. "i don't, like, hate you or anything. i understand things like that happen. i'm not mad at you."

"really?" you've never seen her tear up so fast. you definitely didn't expect her to tear up at this. but you know the feeling of guilt so well you can't help but feel sympathy for her. "are you sure? i promise it won't happen again."

"i'm sure, dani. you could never do anything to make me hate you."

you smile at her, she sniffles. it's the last thing you hear before you hear the sound of her wristwatch's seconds ticking. you don't really know what's going through her head. you count about 34 ticks.

"did you hate it?" her voice isn't weak, but it is lower than you normally expect it to be.

you're stunned, but the way she looks at you so earnestly, with a hint of nervousness in her eyes forces you to answer within seconds, "n-no! dani, i didn't... hate it. it was just unexpected. i didn't really process it at first." it's the truth, but it feels so gut-wrenching to say.

another 20 ticks of quiet.

"can i do it again?"

hello? hello? what is going on? hello?

"i-i mean, if you want to." it sounds more like a question than a proper answer. and danielle takes it anyway.

you don't have any romantic feelings for danielle, that's for sure. she's said she doesn't have any feelings for you either. that's established. and yet when hanni is too caught up watching movies in the living room with minji and hyein, danielle is always there, sitting in your bed.

sometime's it's just little pecks while you cuddle and watch something she doesn't care much about. sometime's she's on the verge of kissing the living shit out of you.

it's never more than that. none of you let it be more than that. it's more than okay.

it's comfortable. it's casual.

and yet, every time it happens, you feel guilt eat at your stomach.

because danielle doesn't know. and she can't know.

it's not like this was your idea in the first place, it was danielle's. but the fact that you let her do it anyway could be predatory enough for her to feel unsafe if she ever did find out. even if she's the one who caused this all.

and never once do you think about yourself while it happens. it's not a moment for you, it's a moment for danielle to take. and you're okay with that. as long as she's okay with it.

you're okay with many things just because danielle is okay with them.

if danielle wants to watch a romcom, you watch a romcom. if danielle wants to eat plain yogurt, you eat plain yogurt. if danielle wants to kiss you, you let her kiss you.

it's not that big of a deal if there are no feelings involved. it's just a matter of believing that that's actually true.

you let her do whatever she wants because you're scared to do the taking. because taking feels like stealing, and doing feels like attacking. and you're so scared to hurt danielle that you forget you can also hurt yourself.

but if it's so casual, why doesn't she let go of your hand? why does she call you pretty everyday? why does she look at you with those pretty eyes like you're her whole world?

was the "i love you" she said yesterday something she meant as platonic love? is there such a thing as casual love?

was it just the sound of the raindrops on your window that made you hallucinate the sound of a love confession?

you don't eat anything for the rest of the day.

minji and hyein are visiting their parents. hanni and haerin are out of the country. and you're in the dorm kitchen trying to figure out how blurred the lines are while you mix the milk into your tea.

you feel your heart drop when you hear the sound of footsteps of the line-blurrer herself over the sounds of light rain. it hasn't stopped since the day before.

you don't want to feel anything right now, you don't want to hear anything right now.

she wraps her arms around your waist and says, "good morning." with that big bright smile on her face. at one point it started hurting when she did, but you don't remember when.

she smells like the candles you burnt in your room two days after hanni left. you were trying to get rid of danielle's scent from your room, but you couldn't tell her that, so you just said you were trying something new.

danielle notices you say nothing back, and your eyes are nowhere in particular. "watchu thinkin' about?" her always cheery tone gets you out of your trance, and she notices when you stop stirring the spoon in your cup. you're still silent for a bit, but she lets you take your time.

"i don't think we should do this anymore, danielle."

you tense up when her arms leave your waist, but it feels oddly freeing. you don't turn back to face her.

"what do you mean?"

"are we still casual?"

there's disbelief in danielle's voice when she speaks, "what are you talking about? of course we are!" but she sounds dishonest, in a way.

"really?" that's when you turn around, her eyes are wide and her cheeks are quite flushed but nothing about her seems guilty at all, "because saying "i love you" doesn't seem quite casual to me."

she scoffs, "y/n, i tell all my friends i love them. it's a normal thing!"

"i'd agree with you if we weren't kissing on the low. it's a little too much on top of that."

"i don't know what you think casual means but-"

"what i mean is we should stop before the lines start to blur, that's if they haven't already." you don't want to yell at her. you hope she understands before you have to raise your voice. "we are public figures, famous figures. if this goes wrong we can't go back and that could potentially ruin everything, not only for us but for our group."

"well, it can't go wrong if there's no feelings involved, can it?" danielle is usually playfully sassy, but she's never responded to you like this before.

"we're human, danielle. feelings can't be stopped." you're not too good at reading people, but you can see something has clicked in danielle's brain.

"what i'm getting is that you developed feelings for me while we were casual, is that right?" she seems so sure and confident that it annoys you. it frustrates you. and you want to cry.

"no, that's not what i said. but i am scared of it happening, and i want this to stop before it has the chance to."

"well, you should've thought of that before you said yes." you never really did.

"why are you upset, anyways?"

"b-because!" her voice gets louder, "i just wanted this to be casual, and now your telling me you're scared of catching feelings, it's just weird. that's all."

you sigh, "listen, i don't want this to end on a bad note. i just-"

"well, i don't want this to end at all!"

it takes you a minute to believe what you're hearing.

"a-are you hearing yourself?" it's shocking, it really is, "this is crazy, why are you being so selfish right now?"

"because it feels good! okay?!" danielle has completely let go of the loose strings of morality she was holding on to, "it fucking feels good, a-and you make me feel good. i like it when we kiss, and i like it when we cuddle and, and, i just like it, okay?!" that's the first time you've heard danielle curse in your entire life.

"okay, well, i'm glad you did. but i don't. i don't feel good at all." it's so scary and risky because you're two seconds away from telling her the truth, and this could potentially damage both your careers irreversibly, but you can't think of any lie or excuse that is true enough to keep hiding it.

"i drown in guilt every time we kiss and i feel like i'm choking when you look at me these days."

you've never seen her look so confused, like she really doesn't understand you. because she never had to.

"why?"

"i am a lesbian, danielle." you can't shatter, not now. "and it kills me because you'll never understand how hard it is to hide like this for so long. and yes, we hide this casual thing from our members, but after this is over you don't have to hide anything at all and i still have to hide everything."

she says nothing. her eyes soften, but you can't read them. not like you ever could.

"i didn't catch feelings for you, but i could, and you're not helping out. and you don't have to worry about that. you don't have to worry about your members being disgusted at you for something you can't change. you don't have to pretend. you don't have to be scared that you're making someone uncomfortable by simply existing beside them. i had to pretend i didn't care when you kissed me, i had to pretend to be okay when you kissed me again. i've been pretending to be okay with so much i don't know what being okay is anymore."

danielle still says nothing.

"but that's all gone to shit now, hasn't it?" your voice can't break now, but it does anyway, even when your not done speaking. "i can't be okay with everything. i can't be casual about everything, danielle. not anymore." there's a hot tear running down your cheek, but you try to hold yourself together.

"i never want to hurt you, ever, danielle. but i am seriously hurting myself. i am eating myself from inside out. there's nothing casual about that."

"i think i might be in love with you." is the first thing she says in minutes. and that's when you shatter completely. you turn around to leave your mug of now cold tea on the counter and you rest your elbows on it to hide your face in your hands.

"do you think that helps?" you're sobbing.

"i'm sorry. i know it doesn't. i just had a moment of realization and i think that's why i was so upset. i didn't want you to end this because i was in love with you since the start and didn't realize."

"this is fucking crazy." it really is, that's why you can't hold down the laugh of complete astonishment that leaves your lips. "do you realize how crazy this is? i just came out to you and you're- i don't even want to think about this."

"i'm really sorry, y/n." it's the first time you see guilt in danielle's face in a long time. "i really am. i really didn't know, i- i didn't know anything at all."

"you were upset of me potentially having feelings for you when it was you the whole time, huh?" this is no time or place to make jokes, you're literally crying as you speak. but this is hilarious. danielle seems to think so too given she also laughs.

"i don't know what i was thinking." she says, hiding her face in her palm in embarrassment.

"i wish i knew too." you say, "i never do."

"so what now? i mean, you clearly don't like me back." you don't understand how danielle does it. she never looks away, she faces the truth, something you're unable to do easily.

"that's a good question, i actually never thought about that." i mean, you thought the possibility of danielle ever liking a woman, let alone you, was at a mere 0.1%, can you blame yourself for not thinking of a solution to this?

"i mean, you did say you could."

"selfish asshole." you mutter to yourself, but danielle hears it anyways. "hey!"

"i'm crying right in front of you out of fear and frustration, have some respect, dude."

"i would say it wouldn't hurt to try but it clearly does so i don't know what you want to do." wow, danielle really could never do anything to make you hate her. nothing at all. "i don't mind being the selfless one this time."

"cheesy." she's always been like that, you can't say you hate it. "i'll reheat my tea and think about it."

danielle waits for you. maybe it wouldn't be so bad to risk falling in love with her too. you've risked it once.

the microwave beeps and you take your mug out. it's hot again. you turn to face danielle and she's still there, hasn't moved an inch. "i'm willing to give it a try. but nothing casual."

she shines you the widest grin you've ever seen from her. "nothing was ever casual, i fear."

"i still can't believe you cursed." you say as you walk past her to go to your room (that probably smells like danielle's perfume again).

"i did?!" she trails behind you. you nod. "i almost jumped."

"hey, am i the first one to know?"

"what, that i'm a lesbian?" she nods, now beside you. you shake your head after a sip of your tea.

"hanni knew."

"i'm not even the first? fuck..." is she doing this on purpose... she has to be, right?

"dude? hello?"

"don't dude me, i'm your future girlfriend." she hits your arm as you walk into your room. you don't know what you're gonna say to hanni when she comes back.

"confident much? shut up and pick a movie to watch." you'll figure it out later.

end.

🗒️ this wasn't as long as i thought it was gonna be THANK GOD

[earlysunshines]

oh say it ditto

danielle marsh x fem!reader

synopsis: you have to help out at the elementary school for service hours and of course you’re paired with true girl you’ve literally been in love with since middle school.

warnings: literally none. just fluff. so cute. they're so cute. i need to be put behind bars for this. it's so... cute. what. ; loser!!!!!!yn i fear ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread ; i'm so giddy. they're so cute. i hate couples. i cnat breathe theyre so gay and in love.

a/n: I MISSED WRITING FOR MO DANI UGGHHHH MO DANIIII!!!!!

danielle marsh is perfect. she’s smart, kind, and easily the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. people always say she’s too good to be true, like a disney princess pulled right out of a movie, the kind of person who seems flawless in every way.

but to you? that description feels like an understatement—an understatement times ten.

there is not a single metaphor that could ever capture the way her presence lights up a room, or the way her smile—bright and contagious—makes your heart do flips. she’s beyond comparison, beyond words. you’ve known her since middle school, and in all that time despite barely having time with her, the feeling has only grown. she’s the type of person that’s just barely out of reach, so you’ve learned to cope with it.

which is exactly why, when your teacher had pulled you two aside after class, announcing that you’d be paired with her for your volunteer hours at the local elementary school, your stomach practically dropped to your shoes. she’s the type of person that’s just barely out of reach, so you’ve learned to cope with it. but now? she’s just within reach. 

“some others filled out the form, but i only needed the two of you since it’s for a smaller group.” mr. jeong explained. “and you two are the perfect candidates. thank you for your interest in this, my wife is really glad that we’re able to send the two of you over to help out—she works at the school.”

you clutch the strap of your bag a little tighter, trying to stay visibly and mentally composed. danielle is beside you smiling at your physics teacher, and then you catch her smiling at you from the corner of your eye. turning a bit, you shoot a small grin, then excuse yourself out.

just your luck, but maybe you’ll survive. this could turn out great for you!

as you walk down the hall, you feel someone tap on your shoulder. turning around, it’s her. 

danielle is behind you smiling. “see you monday!” she says with that honeyed voice of hers.

knowing yourself, maybe it won’t turn out so great. you might be doomed considering how much of a loser you are compared to miss sunshine.

—

you arrive at the elementary school the following monday, heart pounding as you push open the heavy doors to the small classroom where the after-school program is being held. a group of kids are already gathered, some working on crafts, others running around, their laughter filling the air. but none of it matters because standing near the teacher's desk, helping a kid tie their shoe, is danielle.

she looks up just as you step in, her eyes lighting up with recognition. "hey! looks like we’re partners in crime for the next few weeks," she says with a smile so genuine it makes you dizzy. “i’m glad you’re here.”

you force a grin, trying to play it cool. "yeah. um, and likewise.”

the teacher quickly assigns you both to work with a small group of students on some arts and crafts. you watch as danielle sits down with the kids, her voice soft and encouraging as she helps them cut out construction paper shapes. you, meanwhile, sit on the opposite side of the table, trying not to focus too much on the fact that you're mere feet away from the girl who’s had your heart for as long as you can remember.

as the session goes on, you find yourself slowly relaxing. the kids are lively and fun, and danielle's easygoing nature makes everything feel less intimidating (though the only thing that really made everything seem like that was her). she’s chatting with the students, laughing when they show her their goofy creations, and every now and then, she glances your way, offering you a smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

"how are you so good with them?" you ask her while cleaning up the table, genuinely curious.

danielle shrugs, her eyes twinkling. "i don’t know, i’m just fond of kids. they’re honest, you know? and they don’t care if you mess up or say the wrong thing."

you smiled, nodding, but her words hit closer to home than she realized. if only you could believe that—if only you could let yourself stop overthinking everything when it came to her.

“like you could ever do that,” you mutter under your breath. danielle catches it, but doesn’t comment on it. “i guess you’re right. i didn’t think of it that way.” you say at a normal volume, and danielle doesn’t have a hard time catching that.

as the afternoon starts to wind down, one of the kids tugs on your sleeve, showing you his glitter-covered drawing of what appears to be a dinosaur. "do you like it?" he ask, his eyes wide with anticipation.

you glance at danielle, who’s watching you with a curious expression, and suddenly, it feels like this moment matters more than anything. you take the drawing, smile at the kid, and say, "i think it’s awesome."

out of the corner of your eye, you catch danielle beaming at you, and for a second, it feels like maybe—just maybe—this whole thing won’t be as hard as you thought.

–

as the kids rushed out of the room, their laughter echoing down the hallways, you found yourself lingering behind, picking up scraps of paper and wiping glitter off the tables. danielle was still there too, helping the teacher gather leftover supplies. the room felt quieter now, just the two of you in the aftermath of the chaos, and for a moment, you both moved in comfortable silence, the air between you lighter than it had been earlier.

"it’s been a while, huh?" danielle said softly, her voice breaking the quiet as she stacked a few cups of markers on the shelf. you glanced over at her, heart suddenly racing again, because it was true—you hadn’t really spoken to her much since middle school, despite always being around. besides, she had been taking different courses than you, so there weren’t many shared classes. even if their were, you two had your respective groups, and danielle was quite popular compared to you, so you stayed out the picture while admiring from afar.

"yeah," you nodded, tossing some crumpled-up paper into the trash bin, smiling when you make it. "guess we’ve both been pretty busy."

she smiled, that same soft, almost shy smile that always made your chest tighten. "swim has been taking up your time, huh?”

“oh, yeah, haha.”

“i’ve seen you around at your practices, you’re really good!”

“y-you have?” your eyes widen with surprise, gaze staying on her as she throws something away. 

“my friend hyein is on the team, you know her?”

“ah,” the underclassmen that tried to drown you (in a playful way, because that’s playful to hyein. allegedly so). “yeah.” you giggle thinking about your swimmate. “she’s very… fun.”

“she’s always up to something.” danielle giggles.

quiet fills the air as you two continue cleaning. danielle is stacking chairs, and you’re lifting each stack over to the edge of the classroom. neither of you say anything for a while, mindful of the other in a semi-awkward silence as you help the janitors out. 

danielle breaks the silence again.

“i didn’t realize how much i missed seeing you around until today," she admits, her words gentle but carrying more weight than you expected. she’s looking at you, standing maybe ten tiles away and her eyes are stuck on yours. you feel like you’re being mushed into the ground.

you blinked, caught off guard by her honesty, and suddenly, you weren’t sure how to respond. so you just smiled back, hoping it didn’t look too awkward. "yeah… same here, actually."

the silence stretched once again as you both continued cleaning up, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. it felt like something was shifting between you two, the years of distance slowly fading away, replaced by an old familiarity that had never really gone away.

once most of the mess was cleaned up, you found yourselves standing near the door, neither of you in any real hurry to leave. danielle looked down at her phone for a moment, then back up at you. "hey, do you drive?" she asked, her voice a little hesitant.

you nodded. "yeah, i do. why?"

"i was thinking... we should probably carpool for this," she said, motioning to the classroom. "since we’re both gonna be volunteering here for the next few weeks, might as well make it easier on ourselves, right?"

the idea of seeing her more often, spending more time together, made your heart skip a beat. "yeah, that sounds like a good plan," you agreed, trying to sound casual. "i can pick you up if you want?"

her eyes brightened at that, and for a moment, you could swear there was a bit of relief in her expression. "that’d be great."

you pulled out your phone, opening up your contacts, and as you handed it over to her, your fingers brushed hers. it was a small, brief touch, but goosebumps were poking at the inside of your shirt after. even the hairs on your arm started to stand noticeably. danielle didn’t seem to notice—or maybe she did—but either way, she calmly typed in her number and handed the phone back to you with a smile.

"there," she said, her voice light. "now you have no excuse not to keep in touch."

you laughed, feeling your heart swell. "no excuses," you promised, and as you both left the classroom together, you couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted between you two—the connection that had always been there but was finally starting to come into focus.

—

swim practice took up most of your days, which you didn’t mind. most of your friends were on the team anyway, so it just gave you an excuse to hang out when you weren’t practicing for your respective races.

it always went like this: ten minutes of warmups—light stretches and a couple of easy laps to get your muscles moving. then came fifteen minutes of drills, laps back and forth with barely any rest in between, focusing on your form, speed, and turns. the coach would shout instructions from the edge of the pool, calling out corrections or praise when you hit the perfect stroke. after that, you’d usually break into smaller groups, each focusing on different parts of the race. whether it was freestyle, butterfly, or backstroke, you’d put everything into perfecting your technique—freestyle was your forte—until your muscles burned and your lungs screamed for air.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, practice would wrap up with a cooldown: slow laps, easy strokes, and a few more stretches. additionally, there would be playful banter, and hyein would always find a way to bother you since she was also focused on freestyle. you two were inevitably always together, she was like the younger relative that would pester you any chance you got. 

your body always felt heavy afterward, but in a good way. exhausted and accomplished.

you were dripping wet as you pulled yourself out of the pool, every step feeling heavier than the last. practice might’ve ended, but the exhaustion clung to you as you made your way to the locker room, the sound of splashing water and your teammates’ chatter filling the space around you.

you changed quickly, glad to get out of your damp swimsuit, and ran a towel through your hair as best you could. it was still dripping slightly when you finally stepped out of the locker room, feeling refreshed but undeniably drained.

and then you saw her.

danielle stood just outside the entrance, her presence so unexpected that you almost stumbled in surprise. you should be used to this, maybe, considering you saw her yesterday. your heart jumped to your throat, tiredness vanishing in an instant. she was leaning casually against the wall, scrolling through her phone, but when she noticed you, her eyes lit up, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"hey!" she called out, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. "fancy seeing you here." she says sarcastically.

your heart was pounding, suddenly hyper-aware of the way your hair was probably sticking out at odd angles, still damp and messy. "h-hi," you stammered, mentally kicking yourself for sounding so awkward. "what—what are you doing here?"

danielle tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking a little sheepish. "i’m actually waiting for hyein.." she glanced away, then back at you with a small, hesitant smile. "but, um, i wanted to see you too. just to say hi."

your heart practically stopped at that. she wanted to see you. you felt your cheeks start to burn, or maybe they were always a little warm, you took a hot shower earlier and that would make a lot of sense, but also danielle is—

you scramble to find something—anything—to say that wouldn’t make you seem like a complete idiot. "oh, uh, really? that’s… nice. i mean, it’s great. i—it’s good to see you, too. again. we saw each other yesterday."

“why yes, we did.” danielle laughed softly, her eyes crinkling in that way that always made your stomach flip. "you’re cute— and funny."

you blinked, completely caught off guard. your brain was short-circuiting. did she really just say that? were you more cute or funny? was the cute just thrown in there? you think for a bit, you make people laugh easily and— you need to stop thinking.

"oh, um, thank you? you too." you respond. she laughs again, shaking her head.

"i’m just teasing," she said, though there was something almost… nervous in her gaze as she looked at you. like she wasn’t sure if she’d overstepped. "but really, it’s nice running into you like this. you look different to how you did yesterday." 

you glanced down at yourself, still dressed in loose sweats and hoodie, hair a mess. "different good or…?"

"definitely good," she confirmed, her smile widening. "you look… relaxed. it suits you."

relaxed, right. you can’t help but chuckle.

before you could come up with a response that didn’t sound completely ridiculous, someone called your name. you turned to see wonbin waving at you from the other end of the hall where the boys locker room is, sohee trailing behind him. it "hey! you done?" he asked, his voice carrying over the distance.

you blinked, glancing back at danielle, and she gave you a small, understanding nod. "you should go," she murmured softly. "don’t want to keep your friends waiting."

"yeah, um, i guess i’ll see you next week" you hate how reluctant you sound.

danielle’s smile softened, something almost wistful in her eyes. "yeah, can’t wait to get glitter all over my hands again." she says jokingly. she waved as you turn to join wonbin and sohee, her gaze lingering on you a moment longer. "bye, y/n!"

"bye," you called back, lifting a hand in a half-wave.

you turned away, walking towards your friends, but couldn’t resist glancing over your shoulder one last time. danielle was still standing there, watching you leave, and when she caught you looking, she flashed you another quick grin, eyes crinkling and teeth showing. your heart did a flip against your chest.

wonbin nudged your shoulder as you reached them, smirking knowingly. "danielle marsh?" he questioned as if it weren’t the obvious, drawing her name out teasingly. "what’s up with that?"

"nothing is up. get your head out the gutter," you muttered, shoving him lightly, but you couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at your lips. "we were just talking."

sohee snorted. "right. just talking. sure."

“we literally had a brief conversation, i hope you guys inhale water.”

they both laughed as you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest. even as you headed out with them, thoughts of buying a sandwich swirling around, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you and danielle—that maybe, just maybe, your friendship was returning with ease.

—

the next week you’re with danielle again. this time she’s heading towards your car, getting in your car, sitting in the passengers seat in your car, and clicking her seatbelt in next to you.

“hey.” she greets, smiling.

“hi.” you respond nervously. you check the time, you’re very early but you’re not sure if you can even drive properly with the prettiest girl in the school next to you. “ready to go?”

“yup!”

“okay!” you respond with the same energy, making her giggle. you just made danielle marsh giggle. 

accompanied by you is the sound of music playing in the middle of the silence—a little too loudly—before you glance at her nervously. you apologize, but she shakes her head in your peripheral, putting her hand on the side of your upper arm as she does so. you clench your jaw, forcing a smile as you turn the corner.

she puts a hand over her stomach. “hey, can we stop by and grab a snack? there’s a little convenience store on the way there i always pass by.”

“yeah, of course.” 

you pull into the small convenience store’s parking lot, your heart still racing from the brief moment earlier when danielle had laughed at your overly energetic response. you had to focus on driving, but her presence beside you was making it impossible to think straight.

(you’re not that good at doing anything… straight….)

“i’ll be quick,” she says with a smile, unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping out of the car.

“who said i’m not coming with?” you reply, “i’m not just gonna let you in by yourself.”

“wow,” she smirks, “what a gentle-lady.”

you follow her inside, letting her lead the way. it’s a cozy little store, shelves stocked with snacks, drinks, and everything in between. danielle heads straight to the snacks aisle while you find yourself wandering toward the drinks, hoping to calm your nerves. you scan the selection, pretending to be interested in a row of teas when you feel a sudden gaze on you.

turning slightly, you catch danielle staring at you from across the aisle. her eyes are soft, almost thoughtful, as if she’s studying every little movement you make. your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you freeze, unsure of what to do with yourself.

“uh—” you clear your throat, lifting a tea bottle. “this one any good?”

danielle blinks, snapping out of her thoughts, a shy smile spreading across her face. “oh, yeah! it’s really good. you should try it.”

you nod, trying to play it cool as you glance at the label, but you can still feel her gaze lingering on you. there’s something electric in the air between you two—unspoken, but undeniably there—something that wasn’t there before. 

—

the second time you and danielle help out at the elementary school, the day is warmer, and the kids are outside, running around with boundless energy. you’re supervising the chaos, but also playing along with the kids—throwing a frisbee, helping them climb the jungle gym, and laughing as they chase after you.

danielle stands nearby, watching with an amused smile. it’s been a short amount of time since the last time you volunteered together, and she realizes how much she’s missed your presence. she’s always known you were sweet, but seeing you like this—so good with the kids, laughing and having fun, so personally and naturally—makes something inside her chest tighten.

it had been a while since she’d last seen you, not including the first volunteer hours, but just in general since middle school. sure, you had that one class freshman year, and gym during sophomore year, but that wasn’t really much.

between your current classes and different social circles, the chances to bump into you had become rare. but the moment you stepped into the classroom that day, something in her stirred. she couldn’t help but notice how much you’d changed since the last time she saw you. she was able to observe you fully: taller, more confident, but still with that same sweetness in your eyes that had made her stomach flutter before the transition into high school. additionally, you looked good—better than she remembered—and that realization had her heart skipping a beat.

she tries to focus on her own task, playing hopscotch with a few of the younger kids, but her eyes keep drifting back to you. you’re crouching down to tie a little girl’s shoelaces, smiling up at her in that easy, charming way you do. danielle’s heart races as she thinks about how effortlessly kind you are, how even the small things you do make her feel warm inside.

as you finish helping the girl, you catch danielle’s gaze—not for the first time that day. your eyes meet, and for a split second, neither of you looks away. she quickly glances down, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks. she can’t help but think how much you’ve changed since middle school—how you’ve grown into someone who’s not just good-looking but incredibly thoughtful, too.

you jog over to where she’s standing, slightly out of breath but grinning. “having fun?”

“yeah,” she replies, her voice a little softer than usual. “you seem like you’re having fun, too.”

“can’t help it,” you shrug, glancing at the kids. “they’re pretty contagious.”

danielle laughs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. the way you talk to her, so casually and effortlessly, makes her more nervous than she should be. you’ve always been easy to talk to, but now it feels different—like there’s something more beneath the surface.

as the afternoon goes on, the kids' energy only seems to increase. you end up sitting on the grass, surrounded by a group of them, laughing as one of the younger boys insists on “fixing” your hair. his tiny fingers tug gently at the strands, doing his best to style it into something creative—mostly a messy combination of pigtails. you wince occasionally, but you let him continue, his determination too adorable to resist. 

danielle watches from a few feet away, trying not to laugh too obviously. she’s been watching you all day, and she can’t help but feel charmed by how good-natured you are, even in moments like this. there’s something so endearing about the way you don’t take yourself too seriously, how you just go with the flow and let these kids have fun with you. she can’t help but sneak a picture, for… the memories of course.

“you look… really good,” she says, teasingly, as she approaches. 

you glance up, one eyebrow raised, trying to look at your reflection in the window nearby. “oh yeah? should i make this my new look?”

danielle grins, sitting down beside you. “i think it could be a trend. maybe you’ll make it on the cover of vogue.”

“right, 'styled by six-year-olds' is definitely going to get me scouted. maybe i’ll even be dressed head to toe in like… i don’t know— celine or something luxury.” you chuckle, letting the boy keep working on your hair. "i’ll give you credit for the idea when i get famous.”

danielle laughs, the sound light and soft, and her heart beats dangerously hard. you’re never trying too hard yet still manage to make people feel good just by being yourself. it’s been like this since middle school, but now, it feels more intense, like every small interaction with you is enough to make her stomach twist in turn—in the good way of course. 

“do you ever get tired of being everyone’s favorite?” she asks, playfully nudging you with her shoulder.

you blink, looking genuinely confused. “me? everyone’s favorite? what are you talking about?”

“you,” danielle says, smiling. “you’re so… easy to like. look at these kids—they’re obsessed with you. i don’t think i’ve ever seen someone win over a bunch of first-graders that fast.”

you shrug, looking a little bashful. “they’re fun and young, that’s all.”

the kid working on your hair finishes and steps back to admire his masterpiece. “done!” he announces proudly.

danielle bursts into laughter when she sees the final result—your hair is sticking out in all directions, a combination of tiny pigtails and knots. you make a dramatic face, pulling a mock-serious expression. “so… how do i look?”

“like a work of art,” she teases, leaning closer to inspect the chaos. “mona lisa is jealous.”

you can’t help but laugh along with her, feeling the warmth of the moment. even though you’re clueless about how much she’s been thinking about you, about how every little thing you do makes her heart skip, the playful energy between you two is unmistakable. there’s something so natural about being with her like this, so comfortable. it feels right, just like how it was back then.

as the kids run off back toward the adults, you and danielle stay sitting side by side in the grass, the conversation flowing easily as she fixes your hair. it’s like no time has passed since middle school, but at the same time, there’s a new layer to your dynamic.

“you know, i always liked you a lot in middle school.” danielle says suddenly, accidentally pulling out a strand of your hair with the hairtie. you wince, but not at the feeling of your hair being pulled out. “sorry about that.”

“you liked me?”

“i mean, who wouldn’t?” danielle shrugs. “everyone wanted to be your friend, of course i wanted to be yours too!”

that kind of ‘like’---the platonic kind.

“oh,” you mumble, “right, thanks. i liked you a lot too, um, like, you know, as a friend.” you’re lying right in front of her face, well, kind of. 

you thought she was just someone sweet and gorgeous, a great friend for maybe two weeks max. she started getting more touchy and affectionate, throwing compliments and making your cheeks flush a little too much. all of it confused you at the ripe age of thirteen, and then the points connected: you had a crush on her.

the moment you realized you liked her was burned into your memory, a core memory that never left. it wasn’t some grand gesture, not some dramatic revelation. it was just the two of you, sitting under the sun after finishing fitness exams early, finding a quiet spot in the grass to relax. you remember her finding a tiny flower in the grass, something you hadn’t even noticed, and without hesitation, she tucked it behind your ear, smiling as she called you wonderful and sweet, like it was the easiest thing in the world—like it was true.

her eyes had lit up, like you were something to be admired, like you were a constellation that she’d stumbled upon. your heart raced in that moment, faster than it ever had during any of the laps you’d run earlier. she just smiled at you, oblivious to the storm she’d created inside of you, and that’s when it hit you: nothing was going to be the same again.

from that day on, thirteen-year-old you couldn’t stop crushing on danielle marsh. it became a constant, something that wove itself into your everyday life, even when you barely saw her. every stolen glance, every random smile she threw your way, things you were sure meant nothing to her, but they were everything to you.

years passed, and even though you both grew older, matured in so many ways, the feelings stayed the same. maybe you were still young, still figuring out your place in the world, but one thing you knew for sure—you were undeniably, hopelessly in love with danielle marsh, and you always would be as long as she existed anywhere near you.

“i know it’s a little late, but i hope we can be friends like that again.” danielle admits, breaking you out of your memory. “i can’t help being so enamored by the person you are now.”

“woah.” you accidentally say, turning away from her and laughing. “sorry, i just— that was really sweet it um, caught me off guard. thank you danielle.”

“you can call me dani, just like you used to.”

“okay.”

her eyes narrow just a bit as her head tilts. she’s hugging her knees to her chest and staring at you while the sun starts to shine golden rays. you blink a few times, tilting your head the same way, and then she smiles again out of nowhere.

“seems like they’re ready to clean up. we should help.”

“for sure.” you say quietly, not budging. “i’ll go when you go.”

danielle giggles, “alright.”

—

after your second day at the elementary school, you and danielle somehow ended up walking to class together. it wasn’t planned, not exactly, but after bumping into each other the next morning, the conversation flowed so naturally that it just made sense to keep talking as you both headed in the same direction. 

danielle walked beside you, glancing at you every now and then as you talked about anything and everything—how tiring the kids could be, your classes, random stuff like favorite snacks or the latest movie you wanted to see. you two were passing time, walking in loops around the first floor of the school since the bell would ring in fifteen minutes. every time you said something that made her laugh, her eyes sparkled just a little more, and it wasn’t lost on you how easy it felt to be around her. 

eventually, you reached her class as your time together shortened. you stopped and turned to face her, giving a small wave. “i’ll see you around?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. 

“yeah, definitely,” she said, her cheeks flushing the slightest bit. she gave a little wave back, her smile soft and warm. “thanks for walking with me.”

“no problem,” you said, trying to play it cool despite how fast your heart was racing. you turned, heading off to your own class, but you couldn’t help glancing back once, catching her still watching you. 

what you didn’t see was danielle running into minji and hanni a few minutes later. the two of them were standing near the classroom and got there a few seconds after danielle, noticing immediately how flustered she seemed as they approached her at her desk.

“was that y/n you just waved goodbye to?” minji asked, her eyebrow raised. 

“yeah, we’ve been, uh, talking again. like friends! of course…” danielle said, her voice soft, a blush creeping up her neck as she tried to hide her smile.

hanni grinned, catching on instantly. “getting close again, huh?” she teased, nudging danielle’s arm playfully. 

danielle’s cheeks turned a little more pink, and she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. “something like that,”

minji smirked. “you look way too happy about it.”

danielle looked down, biting her lip to stop from grinning. “it’s nothing,” she muttered, but even she couldn’t believe her own words.

because, really, it felt like everything.

—

later that day you head toward the locker room after a tiring swim practice. sohee is teasing you for messing up during a lap, and hyein continues to add on. you manage to shake sohee off after splitting ways, but hyein is still poking at you.

you shower quickly, dry yourself, and change into your usual hoodie and sweats before waving to your teammates who aren’t done packing up.

once you open the door, you immediately catch danielle leaning against the wall. she looks up as soon as you step out, her features lighting up.

“hey!” she greets.

“hi.” you respond as you walk up to her. “waiting for hyein?”

“um, yeah.” danielle is lying again, this can’t be a good habit. maybe it lying isn’t so bad if it’s to see someone as wonderful as you, danielle thinks. “how was practice?”

“i was kinda slow today, but it was fun.” you sigh, “how has your day been?”

“tiring as well,” she huffs. “but i’m really caught up with schoolwork and the student council meeting was really short.”

“that’s lovely.” you catch sohee and wonbin in the corner of your eye and purse your lips. “those idiots,” your eyes turn towards them and danielle briefly glances at the idiots in question, “are hungry. they’re like vacuums… i swear.”

“i understand, my friends are like that too.” danielle snickers, directing her attention back to you. “hey, i was also wondering if you’d um, like to walk together in the morning? like we can walk or you can eat breakfast. it doesn’t matter. i’m just saying i’d like to be with you tomorrow morning.”

you freeze, parting your mouth to say something, but everything is caught up in your throat.

your brain stops functioning for a moment as you try to process quite literally everything. you manage to respond a few seconds later, “yes!” the eagerness makes you cringe, you cough. “yes, i mean. i’d also like to be with you! u-uhm, in the morning, obviously. yeah. we can do whatever you’d like, just say the words and i’m uh, i’m down.”

her lips turn up and you swear the universe just slapped you in the face. “great,” she says, “i’ll see you tomorrow. you should go feed your friends.”

“yeah, they… eat—a lot. sorry, yeah, i’ll get going. see you!”

“see you y/n!” she waves, and you wave back, walking towards two idiots trying to hold laughter and snarky remarks.

—

you’re helping out the kids as they all tend to their artwork. this time everyone has watercolor, which is a little less messy than your first rodeo at the school. you sit at the table with five children, all of them eager to earn criticism and compliments from their work.

“y/n! y/n! how do you like mine? it’s good right? do you like it?” one girl says, holding up the paper to your face with her little hands.

you chuckle, moving back a bit to get a better view of the work. it’s (what you assume) a scene from the country side; different shades of green line the bottom of the page to imitate grass, and there are different colored flowers peeking out getting shined on by the sun from above.

“it’s gorgeous annie.” you assure, “but i think those flowers are a little lonely without bees.”

the girl brings her paper back and turns it around to inspect. she squints her eyes, biting her lip before nearly slamming it on the ground and beginning to color again. “you’re right! i should’ve done that… also piggies and cows and… the flowers need friends.”

“you’re very creative, i love it!” you beam, patting her shoulder. she turns and smiles at you.

danielle’s palm holds her chin as she watches the interaction from a table away, grinning without knowing. her smile only grows when you give suggestions to another kid, and then she’s breaking away after a child tugs at her hair subtly.

“miss danielle, why are you staring at y/n so much?” the boy asks shyly. 

“o-oh.” danielle’s cheeks start to tingle with heat. “sorry, did you want me to check your work out?”

“why are you staring at y/n?” he asks again, tilting his head at her. 

“it’s nothing, really. i was just um… daydreaming.”

“about y/n?” kids are getting clever these days, though thankfully they lack the snarkiness. “is that why you’re staring at her?”

“um, no.” um, yes. danielle is lying to a child. “i just, she’s– she happens to be in my vision. um, let’s see your artwork!”

the kid shrugs, pushing the paper over to danielle who is in awe of how well done it is. this kid isn’t just smart, he’s remarkably talented too. 

now it’s your turn to look over at danielle, who’s tending to kids. you admire her for a bit, a small smile creeping up to your lips before you return to your own tasks.

—

the three of them—hanni, minji, and danielle—were huddled on the floor of minji’s room, surrounded by blankets and snacks. they’d been talking about everything and nothing for the past hour, the usual mix of gossip, random stories, and playful teasing filling the room as they have their monthly sleepover.

but as the conversation died down, danielle found her mind wandering back to the past few days—the past month—specifically to you. it had been happening more and more lately. volunteering with you at the elementary school had brought back feelings she thought she’d outgrown, but being around you so often was starting to get to her. all the walks to class were getting to her, the shared glances and grins, really just the awareness of you existing was making her think hard.

“are you okay, dani?” hanni asked, noticing the way danielle had fallen quiet, her face a little red.

minji narrowed her eyes playfully. “yeah, you’ve been acting weird all night. what’s going on?”

danielle sat up straighter, nervously picking at the hem of her oversized sweater. “um… okay, i’m probably just overthinking this, but—” she hesitated, biting her lip before blurting out, “i think i still like y/n.”

both hanni and minji exchanged looks, and then hanni grinned. “still? dani, i didn’t even know you ever stopped.”

“you never stopped,” minji added with a teasing smirk. “you’re just aware of it now because you two interact. i still remember how often you’d mention her back then when we were underclassmen. it wasn’t much, but i thought you always had eyes for her.”

“ugh.” danielle groaned, covering her face with her hands. “but like, it’s different now. we’ve been spending time together at the volunteering thing, even after that, and—” she paused, her voice softening, “she’s just so… sweet. and cute. like, even when she’s not trying, she’s just… ugh, i don’t know.”

hanni grinned, sitting up and leaning toward her. “oh my god, are you gushing?”

danielle peeked out from behind her hands, her face red. “no,” she muttered, but even she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “okay, maybe a little. yeah.”

“what’s she been doing that’s got you all flustered?” minji asked, genuinely curious now.

danielle sighed, her heart racing just thinking about it. “it’s like… little things, you know? like, she always makes sure i’m okay when we’re with the kids, and she’s so patient with them. and then there was this one time where a kid was playing with her hair, trying to style it, and she just let them do whatever they wanted without even complaining.” danielle laughed softly. “she just looked so cute and clueless, and i couldn’t stop staring. and she’s so, so sweet. she walks me to class and asks how i’m doing and we do gas station runs before or after volunteering and she’s so… crush worthy. i don’t know!”

hanni and minji exchanged knowing looks again.

“and like, we’ve barely talked since middle school, but now it’s like… i don’t know. it feels like nothing’s changed, but everything has? i just—” danielle paused, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “i’m starting to realize how much i like her again. we grew up kind of distant and it feels like there’s so much more to her that has me falling deeper than i ever had.”

minji smiled softly. “sounds like you’ve got it bad, dani.”

danielle groaned, lying back on the floor and covering her face again. “why is this happening?”

hanni laughed, poking her side. “because y/n’s cute, and you can’t handle it.”

“exactly,” minji agreed, her teasing grin in full force.

danielle sighed, letting her friends’ teasing wash over her as she tried to calm her racing heart. it was hopeless. she’d never stopped liking you, and now that you were back in her life, it was like everything was coming back all at once.

“what do i even do?” danielle muttered, staring up at the ceiling.

hanni grinned, nudging her. “easy. tell her.”

danielle blushed harder, shaking her head. “no way. i’ll just… i’ll wait.”

minji snorted. “yeah, good luck with that.”

—

that same night, you’re playing basketball with sohee at the court near your houses. sohee moved across the street from you right before high school started, and ever since that you two have been best friends. he’s someone you trust and love with your whole heart, but simultaneously a leech stuck to your side.

the night was cool, the court illuminated by the soft, dim glow of the overhead lights. you and sohee had been at it for a while, your usual one-on-one basketball game to unwind. except tonight, something was off. sohee was easily scoring on you, his movements quick and smooth while yours were sluggish and distracted. you missed shots you’d normally make without a second thought, and every time you tried to focus, your mind drifted back to danielle.

“y/n,” sohee called, catching the ball after your latest missed shot. “what is going on with you? you’re way off.”

you wiped the sweat from your brow, feeling the frustration rising. “nothing, i’m just… tired,” you muttered, but even you didn’t believe that excuse. sohee didn’t either.

he dribbled the ball lazily, walking toward you. “tired? no way. you’ve been off this whole game. i’ve scored more points in the last ten minutes than i usually do in an hour.” he nudged your shoulder with his elbow, his eyes narrowing playfully. “what’s going on?”

you hesitated, biting the inside of your cheek. it wasn’t like you to talk about stuff like this, especially with sohee, but the thoughts swirling around your head were starting to get overwhelming. you couldn’t deny it anymore.

with a sigh, you sat down on the edge of the court, sohee plopping down beside you. “it’s… danielle,” you finally admitted, your voice quieter than you intended.

sohee blinked, raising an eyebrow. “danielle?” he repeated, leaning back on his hands. “okay… go on.”

 you put your head in your hands, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “i don’t know. like, we’ve been hanging out more because of the volunteering stuff, and… i don’t know. i can’t stop thinking about her. like, at all. and it’s messing me up. before it was just a small, lingering crush. it’s so, so bad now.”

sohee’s expression softened, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “so you’ve been crushing on her hard, huh?”

you groaned, leaning your head back and staring up at the night sky. “yeah, i guess you could say that.” it felt like an understatement—it was an understatement. “but it’s more than that. i feel like… every time we’re together, i’m losing my mind. like, i don’t know what to do with myself. i’m always trying to act normal, but she’s so sweet and adorable and cute and i—” you stopped yourself, feeling embarrassed by how much you were rambling. “jesus, i sound like an idiot. don’t look at me—it’s bad.”

sohee chuckled, shaking his head. “honestly, from what you’ve told me, it sounds like she probably likes you too.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you shook your head. “no way. she’s just… being nice. that’s how she is.”

“nah,” sohee stood up, tossing the ball back and forth between his hands. “you don’t see it, but i’ve seen you guys together. and besides, people don’t just act like that for no reason. the way you described her, she’s gotta be into you.”

you raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “you think?”

sohee shrugged. “i mean, you won’t know until you ask her. but from where i’m standing, she’s been giving you all the signs. you are the only one who doesn’t catch her smiling at you, even looking at you. she has to be losing it just as much.”

you sat there for a moment, letting his words sink in. maybe he was right. maybe danielle did like you, but it was hard to believe, especially when you felt so off balance around her. still, the idea of it made your heart race in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“you’re overthinking it,” sohee said, tossing the ball to you. “just… be yourself. she clearly likes who you are, whether you realize it or not.”

you caught the ball, your grip tightening around it as you glanced at him. “and if you’re wrong?”

he laughed, shrugging. “then you’ll live, you always make it. but honestly, i don’t think i am.”

you exhaled slowly, standing up and bouncing the ball a couple of times. “yeah, maybe.”

sohee grinned, motioning for you to start the game again. “come on, let’s finish this. i’m not letting you off easy just because you want marsh.”

you laughed, feeling a little lighter as you dribbled the ball and faced him. “i’m gonna beat your ass—maybe stick to swimming.”

—

the next time you and danielle volunteer at the elementary school, the kids are in full creative mode, diving headfirst into arts and crafts. you watch as their tiny hands work with paper, markers, and glue sticks, their faces lit up with excitement. you and danielle sit side by side at a low table, helping them cut shapes and fold paper, but soon enough, the kids start getting ideas of their own.

"we’re gonna make you guys princesses!" one of the little girls announces with a grin, holding up some colored paper.

"yeah, princesses need crowns," another chimes in, already working on what looks like a very lopsided paper tiara.

danielle laughs softly, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "oh, wow. we’re honored, huh?" she says, glancing at you, her smile wide but a little flustered.

you nod, trying to play it cool even though the idea of you both as ‘princesses’ is making your head spin. "i guess we’re royalty for the day."

soon enough, you and danielle each have paper crowns placed carefully on your heads, the kids squealing in delight at their creations. you catch a glimpse of danielle out of the corner of your eye, and even though the crown is crooked and made of construction paper, she looks... perfect. she always does. she looks even better than any princess from the movies.

"okay, now you need to get married!" one of the boys shouts, bouncing on his feet as he holds out paper rings he made from scraps of old coloring sheets.

both you and danielle freeze for a second, the word ‘married’ hanging in the air like it’s some forbidden territory. you and danielle: married. but the kids don’t give you much time to process because suddenly, two of them grab your hands, pulling you up from your seats.

"come on! princesses have to get married!" they insist, giggling wildly.

danielle glances at you, her eyes wide, but she’s smiling, clearly trying to suppress how flustered she is. "uh, i guess we don’t really have a choice here," she says softly, her voice slightly shaky but still playful.

"nope, none at all," you respond, trying to sound as casual as possible, even though your heart is practically beating out of your chest. you reach out and take the paper ring they offer, pretending it’s all part of the fun as you slip it onto danielle’s finger. “but i don’t mind you as the princess.” you whisper.

danielle’s cheeks flush as she does the same, her fingers lightly brushing against yours as she slides the paper ring onto your hand. for a second, the whole room seems to blur, and it’s just the two of you standing there, awkwardly exchanging paper rings with a bunch of kids cheering you on.

"you may now... be married!" one of the kids declares, causing an eruption of giggles all around you.

you and danielle exchange a quick look, both of you clearly trying not to burst into laughter, but also kind of… lost in the moment. her smile is soft and shy, and you can’t help but feel the warmth spreading through your chest like always.

"well, that was... something," danielle murmurs, her voice quieter as she glances down at the ring now wrapped around your finger.

"yeah," you manage to say, your own voice barely steady. "guess we’re officially paper royalty now."

“i suppose so ‘your highness.’”

both of you laugh, but it’s the kind of laughter that lingers—nervous, sweet, and a little unsure of what it all means. you sit back down, the kids going off to make more crafts, but the paper rings stay on your fingers. neither of you make a move to take them off, both pretending like everything is fine, even though the butterflies in your stomach are telling you otherwise.

—

it was a typical friday after swim practice. you were tired but in a good mood, feeling the pleasant ache in your muscles as you pulled your hoodie over your head and adjusted your sweatpants. as you walked out of the locker room, your hair still damp, you see danielle waiting outside, leaning against the wall with her phone in her hand.

she looked up when you stepped out, and the smile that spread across her face was like a breath of fresh air. “hey,” she greeted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

you smiled back. “hey. waiting for hyein?” it was your automatic assumption since danielle usually hung out with her after school, and you were trying to play it cool, despite the sudden spike in your pulse.

danielle shook her head, biting her lip as if she was a little nervous. “no, actually. i was wondering… if you wanted to grab a bite with me? i mean, if you're free? if you’re going to grab dinner with sohee and wonbin though—i understand.”

for a second, you just stared at her, completely thrown off. danielle marsh, standing there, casually asking you to hang out. it felt surreal. she was looking at you expectantly, her eyes bright and hopeful, and it took everything in you to not freeze up completely.

“just us?”

“who else would be coming? i wanted to… spend time with you.” danielle fidgets with her fingers.

“uh, yeah, sure!” you finally managed to respond, hoping you didn’t sound too eager, but internally you were freaking out.

from the corner of your eye, you spotted sohee and wonbin leaning against the vending machine nearby, watching the whole thing unfold. sohee gave you a sly smirk, while wonbin raised his eyebrows in playful encouragement, clearly trying to get you to go along with it. they didn’t say a word, but their teasing looks were enough.

you ignored them, focusing back on danielle, who was smiling wider now that you’d agreed. “great!” she said, looking genuinely happy. “there’s this place nearby that makes really good sandwiches. hyein loves to eat there after practice.”

“sounds perfect,” you replied, unable to stop the grin spreading across your face as the two of you made your way toward the parking lot.

as you walked side by side, you couldn't help but sneak glances at her, wondering how the universe had aligned for this to happen. danielle, who had been so distant for years, was suddenly in your life again, and now you were about to grab sandwiches together.

you reached your car, and as danielle slid into the passenger seat, you tried to act normal. after all, this ins’t the first time danielle has been in your car. she clicked her seatbelt and looked over at you with a soft expression, and for a moment, everything felt easy.

you turned on the engine, glancing at her with a smile of your own. “let’s go get those sandwiches.”

—

you noticed one of the kids, a little boy named max, slumped over at his desk, his tiny hand still clutching a crayon while his head rested on his arm. he was fast asleep, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up to him. you smiled to yourself, gently lifting the crayon from his hand and setting it down before carefully scooping him up in your arms.

max stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his small body curling into you instinctively. you carried him across the room, making sure your steps were light and quiet, and set him down gently on a blanket in the corner. once you made sure he was comfortable, you knelt beside him, adjusting the blanket around him so he wouldn’t get cold.

as you stood up, brushing off your hands, you felt a pair of eyes on you. turning around, you caught danielle watching the whole scene, her gaze soft and warm. before you could say anything, she spoke, her voice quiet but filled with admiration.

"you're really sweet, you know that?" she said, almost like the words slipped out without her meaning to.

your face heated up instantly, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks. you rubbed the back of your neck, trying to play it off. "thank you," you mumbled, avoiding her gaze because the way she was looking at you made your heart race even more.

but danielle wasn’t letting it go that easily. she smiled at you, that same smile that always made your insides twist in the best way. "no, i mean it. you’re just... really good with them. it’s nice to see. you’re so sweet and so like, cute. sorry."

you blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. "uh, thanks. i just... i don’t know." you tried to brush it off again, but you could feel her eyes still on you, and it made you flustered beyond words.

danielle tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her cheeks a little pink now too. she quickly looked away, biting her lip like she couldn’t believe she’d just said that, and you swore you saw the smallest hint of nervousness in her expression.

you both stood there for a second in the quiet classroom, neither of you sure what to say next. but something unspoken passed between you, something warm and sweet, and even though neither of you acknowledged it out loud, it hung in the air like a gentle breeze.

maybe she didn’t just see you as a friend after all.

—

after leaving the elementary school, you and danielle decided to grab some smoothies, neither of you really wanting the day to end just yet. after picking up your drinks, you drove to a nearby park, parking in a spot that had a perfect view of the sunset. the sky was painted with soft pinks and oranges, fading into a deep blue as the sun dipped lower on the horizon.

sitting side by side in the car, both of you sipped on your smoothies, the air between you comfortable yet charged with something unspoken. danielle was flipping through her phone, looking for something to watch, and eventually settled on a short movie you both had heard about. you propped your phone up on the dashboard, the two of you leaning back in your seats, the glow from the screen illuminating your faces.

the movie played on, but your mind wasn’t completely on it. not really. it was hard to focus when danielle was sitting so close, her laugh quiet but making your heart race every time. you could feel the warmth of her next to you, and each little shift she made only reminded you of how much you liked her.

as the movie reached its peak, the two characters on screen began to confess their feelings for each other. it was a sweet, heartwarming moment, and as you watched, you couldn’t help but feel the growing urge to say something. the way they looked at each other, the vulnerability, the raw emotion—everything felt so familiar.

you glanced over at danielle, who was also watching the scene intently. her hand rested on her lap, fingers lightly tapping to some rhythm only she could hear. your heart pounded in your chest, and before you could stop yourself, you opened your mouth to speak, but then—

“i like you.”

the words tumbled out at the exact same time. both of you froze, eyes wide as you turned to face each other. danielle’s hand smacks over her mouth at the same tiem as you. for a second, it was like the world had stopped, the air between you electric, charged with a mix of surprise and relief. 

danielle’s eyes blinked in shock, and then she laughed softly, her cheeks turning pink as she ducked her head slightly. "what? you, you like me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded, feeling equally flustered but relieved. you turn toward your wheel and put your hands over your face as you lean against it. “yeah,” you mumble against your skin. 

there was a beat of silence, the tension dissolving into something lighter, something sweet. you both smiled at each other, the nervousness fading as the reality of the moment settled in.

"i thought it was just me," she admitted shyly.

"same," you replied, grinning despite the butterflies in your stomach. "but... i'm glad i wasn’t." you lean back in your seat, unable to look at her.

danielle let out a little laugh, and for a moment, everything felt right. you weren’t just friends anymore, not after this. and as the last light of the sunset faded, the two of you sat there in the quiet of the car, your hands slowly finding each other in the space between you. it felt like something had shifted—something you’d both been waiting for.

she looks at you, her eyes still wide, her smile soft but curious. "how long?" she asks quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. the question hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of it.

you swallowed, feeling the heat rise to your face. "uh... since middle school," you admitted, glancing down at your hands nervously. "it was after we finished the fitness testing... remember? you put a flower in my hair while i was sweaty and tired and gross."

danielle’s eyes lit up with recognition, a soft giggle escaping her lips. "wait, really? you liked me then?" she asked, her smile growing as she leaned in a little closer, clearly caught up in the moment. 

"yeah," you nodded, feeling the giddiness rise in your chest. "i remember being so embarrassed because i thought i looked terrible, but you just smiled at me like... like it didn’t matter."

danielle blushed deeply, covering her mouth with her hand as she giggled. "oh my god, i didn’t know! and now i feel even worse because... i’ve liked you since middle school too."

your heart nearly stopped at her words, your eyes widening in surprise. "wait, what? since when?"

"remember that science project we did together?" danielle asked, her cheeks still flushed. "you finished most of it because i was sick for half the week... and you didn’t complain once. you just did it and made sure i didn’t feel bad about it. you even emailed me to drink water and take care of myself. how could i not like you."

“oh"

"yeah," danielle smiled, a little shy now. "i think that’s when i realized you were really special."

both of you were blushing now, giggling nervously in between your confessions, like you couldn’t quite believe what was happening. it was surreal, this moment you’d both been unknowingly waiting for since you were kids. and now here you were, sitting in your car, finally on the same page after all these years.

"i can’t believe we’ve both been... waiting this long," you said, still grinning like an idiot. you smack your forehead with your palm.

"me neither," danielle agreed, her voice soft as her gaze lingered on yours. her smile grew, her eyes sparkling with that familiar light you’d always admired. "but i’m really glad we know now."

"yeah," you whispered, feeling your heart swell as you looked at her. "me too."

silence settled between you two after the giddy confessions, but it wasn’t awkward. it felt... comfortable. like a new kind of peace, where everything was finally out in the open. danielle fiddled with her smoothie cup, glancing at you every now and then with a soft smile, while you kept sneaking looks at her as you drove, your heart doing little flips each time you caught her eyes.

the drive to her house felt shorter than usual, and before you knew it, you were pulling up in front of her place. you turned the engine off, the soft hum of the car dying down as you both sat in the lingering quiet. you wanted to say something, anything to keep her here just a little longer, but your mind was blank—except for the thought of how much you didn’t want this moment to end.

danielle turned to you, her eyes warm and sparkling under the dim glow of the streetlight. "thanks for today," she said quietly, her voice gentle, but there was something more behind it, something unspoken that hung between you.

you felt your heart race again. "no problem, anytime."

danielle looks like she wants to say something. she looks at you with an uncertain expression, biting her lip to hold back something.

“i want to kiss you so bad right now danielle.” you admit quickly, almost out of breath. “you look so cute right now i kind of want to get run over because of how adorable you look. like, oh my god.”

“no, yeah, i feel the same. can we— can i kiss you? oh my god, i’ve never done this before.”

you giggle, “me neither.”

there was a brief pause, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned in—just slightly. it was almost instinctual, like the air between you both had been pulling you closer this entire time. danielle noticed, her breath hitching softly as her eyes flickered to your lips, and in the next heartbeat, she closed the distance.

the kiss was soft, tentative—both of you so nervous, yet so eager. her lips were warm and gentle against yours. danielle’s hand slid into your hair, ruffling it up a bit more and sending shivers down your spine. you couldn’t help but melt into her touch. your own hands trembled as you cupped her cheek, everything feeling new and exciting, yet strangely right.

when you finally pulled apart, both of you were blushing so hard, it was almost embarrassing. you could barely look at each other without grinning like idiots, your hearts pounding in unison. danielle let out a soft laugh, her cheeks bright pink as she quickly glanced at the door.

"um... i’ll—i’ll see you tomorrow?" she stammered, clearly flustered, but there was a giddy, breathless smile on her face that made your own heart stutter.

"yeah, tomorrow," you managed to say, your voice shaky from the rush of emotions. you were still trying to process what had just happened, your lips tingling from the kiss as you watched her open the door to leave. “one more?”

danielle laughs, then gives you a brief kiss before pulling away and avoiding your gaze from nervousness.

she waves a quick goodbye before disappearing into her house, but not without one last smile that made your heart swell all over again. you sat there for a moment longer, your face burning as you replayed everything in your head. the kiss, the confession, her soft touch—it all felt like a dream, one you were still floating in.

and for a moment, all the nerves, all the unspoken feelings—everything just melted away, leaving behind a feel of tranquility between you both. you weren’t just two people holding onto a crush anymore. you were finally something more, and it felt like everything had just fallen perfectly into place.

[controld3vil]

𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞

pairing(s): young!rhaenyra targaryen x velaryon!reader (can be read either as romantic/platonic) synopsis: Rhaenyra always seemed to like her position as the only dragon rider in King's Landing. Besides her uncle who rarely visits, she flys with Syrax whenever she can as proof of her imperial lineage. When word comes that you claimed Vermithor, the Bronze Fury, Rhaenyra becomes strangely jealous of your newfound attention.

notes: this takes place closely timeline-wise to the first season. cw: reader experiences a near-death incident, slight angst

Rhaenyra always felt at ease after riding with her dragon, Syrax. She had a distinctive bond with Syrax that no one could replicate. No one could discourage the truth. Her ancestors rode dragons and conquered the Seven Kingdoms. And rightfully so, as she acknowledges its power on the world. They were fierce beasts, little in number, but ferocious and praised as Gods to the people. The Princess of Dragonstone understood that well when she climbed off of Syrax’s saddle. Her golden scales glisten gloriously from the sunshine. 

She gleams brighter than before. Switching into a rich blonde gown, Rhaenyra rushes to the Court Council. Hoping none of the Councilmen would be bothered by her disturbed presence, the princess fixates on flattening down her silvery hair with her fingers. Combining through her tangled locks, the princess enters, drawing attention to haste and bewildered looks. 

“I was visiting Mother,” The Realm’s Delight she was named, smiled at her father, the King when asked about her whereabouts. She knew he would be displeased by the fact that she was dragon riding incredibly early. But she told the truth wholly. Rhaenyra did visit her mother. 

“On dragonback?” Viserys asked after catching a whiff of his daughter’s distinctive scent. It smelled of smoke and sea, resembling the dragon’s nature and their fiery breath. His daughter returns with a cheeky smile when she goes about to collect the pitcher, full of wine. There was much pride in the princess of her ancestral lineage. It was clear as histories can be able to tell of Old Valyria. A dragon was considered a rare delicacy despite having an abundance around the world. King’s Landing, Dragonstone, and Driftmark. Yet people did not consider them to be flesh and blood. Surprisingly, most were wild and had never been bonded with a dragon rider.

“Haven’t you heard? There was a sighting of the wild dragon, Vermithor along the coastlines of The High Tide,” Coryls Velaryon spouts, in cautiousness and weary. His clenched fist was unmistakable to Rhaenyra as he leaned forward with agitation. “My men are terrified, Your Grace. Surely we can think of a way to return the dragon’s course to Dragonstone.”

The silvery-haired girl looks to her father, King Viserys who beams with fazed delight. He thinks in light of the Master of Ship’s concerns. A dragon flies as it pleases. It did not flee far from Dragonstone as her familial home was a mile away from Driftmark itself. Eventually, Vermithor would have to return to rest. “And I’m sure he will return to Dragonstone when he deems it appropriate.” 

The lighthearted remark sparked some casual laughter from the table. A few lords shamelessly coughed between their coats while Hand to the King, Otto Hightower could only contemplate silently how to move the conversation to something more time-consuming. Rhaenyra has witnessed enough Council meetings to know that her father is restless. He never wanted to stay in the room for far too long before becoming disinterested in every political matter. What a dull position, she thought, to be the King of the Seven Kingdoms, you must abide by everyone's opinion and request. 

Rhaenyra traces her thumb around the handle of the pitcher. It’s glass and gold melded together. Its purity reflects wonderfully when she’s shown it to the light. As she strides around every seat of the table, the princess notices the little nuances each lord has. The old and cold pin of the Hand on Otto’s chest. The chainmail rings around Maester Mellos. And the rustic bronze rings Lord Corlys carried on his right hand. She recognizes why they are so distinctive now. 

“Nyra!”

It was like a bell went off in her mind when the Princess of Dragonstone blinked again. Now the Council meeting was left in their final moments. The doors that connected the room to the passive hallways opened, and flooded with the lords, one by one exiting. Well-mannered and poised was she when Rhaenyra placed the pitcher back onto the tabletop. Greeted by her father with a brief smile, she heard the sound of sweet nectar. Did you expect she did not hear you?

“Princess,” Rhaenyra laughs, coming down the stairs. You appeared eager to be near her, as you wrapped your arms tightly around her waist. A warm ache grows in her chest as Dragonstone’s darling caresses your shoulders, pushing you aback to see your face. “My you are eager this morrow.”

Your cheeks were plastered in rosy plums. Pink and delicate. As you burst into unfathomable joy at her proximity, you couldn’t contain your giddy blubbering. “I missed you! Is it so wrong to miss you?” She’d imagined your energy and heart beating simultaneously in the rhythm of a hummingbird. You were such a lively spirit, it complimented well with her own. Can she say that? 

She peers at you, fondly. As you were the most precious being one could ask for. If she could, Rhaenyra would shield you from every inconvenience and proposal your way. Even when you would become of age and pursued by your parents, she still would protect you from anyone who deemed you accessible. She brought both of her hands around your small one. They were adorned with rose-colored jewelry. Each is a colored gemstone to match your House colors. Rhaenyra slowly traces the flesh of your palm, “Of course not, Princess! It’s- I haven‘t seen you in so long,”

Your name is hollered and echoed against the looming halls you both stood in. She was sure for a moment, you two would be alone. A pang of discomfort flourishes in her throat when Rhaenyra becomes mute to the person to grab your attention. You, however, were deemed unbothered by it all, and held onto her grip tighter, and firmly, radiating heat and sweat. 

“There you are,” Your father, Lord Corlys groans in relief. It was evitable to find you lost around the castle, King’s Landing was a vast place. However, for how long you have visited, Rhaenyra depicts you knew the structure of it all and simply faked being clueless around. She saw it once. When you vaguely asked a guard where the library was to distract him, knowing you would be off avoiding your lessons with the Septa. She wishes she could chuckle out loud for that memory. “Do not get yourself carried away with the Princess, we have important matters to discuss with the King.” Your father seemed adamant about separating you from Rhaenyra, she recognizes. Which offends her greatly. You were a good friend and cousin. But more importantly, you were the only person to enjoy her company and mischief. 

For the longest time, the eldest daughter of King Viserys was lonely, not having anyone to relate to with her ancestral blood. The ladies in waiting were shy and polite. They were not her forte, Rhaenyra disliked how courtship worked. The daughter of the Hand, Alicent Hightower was a pleasant fresh air and surprise. When she had arrived at King's Landing years ago, Rhaenyra was rather avoidant of her. Now, they were good friends, only ever to be in each other's presence. Daemon, her uncle, is rarely seen nowadays. His position to the City Watch had in truth bothered and encouraged him to wreak more havoc with the townsfolk. She dismisses everyone clearly, anyone closest to her Targaryen bloodline is old or distant. 

But you, and your siblings, Laenor and Laena were much needed in the capitol. Your brother and sister visit rarely, they listen to your father and mother. On the other hand, you weren’t as uptight. As the youngest member of the Velaryon family, you had fewer expected duties compared to her and Alicent. Rhaenyra envied it truly, forever longing for your freedom. 

“Yes father,” You mope, an obvious frown on your lips when you depart from Rhaenyra’s side to your father. He stares at you with amused eyes, much contrast when he turns to her direction with a cold glare. It brings a chill down her spine as she quickly bows her head at the Master of Ships. She meant no offense. You did not notice the demeaning tension between your father and cousin. Because childishly, you excitedly tugged on Rhaenyra’s golden sleeves. “We’ll meet again soon, alright?” 

God, she can only smile at you. You were so sweet, endearing, and innocent. All traits she could find in any other lady. But you were much lively, more genuine than the girls she watched by the courtyard. They were pretentious and fickle. Alicent was also sweet and innocent. Innocent in the ways of adventure and courage. She was attached to duty and for that, Rhaenyra could not blame her. But for how much it mattered to her, she believed it to be an outrage. Out of everyone, you were just right.

The next time you met Rhaenyra was unconventional. Somehow you managed to convince your father to journey beside him to King’s Landing once more to meet the King’s family. Corlys hardly shrugged, putting little effort to stop you from climbing aboard the Sea Snake. Under unfathomable moments, you were condemned to sail to the capitol to tell the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms the great news. The last islanders left behind were your mother, Rhaenys, and sister, Laena who waved at you, earnestly, honing her fond smile as your figure grew smaller and smaller. Your mother, the Queen who Never Was, stood warmly with her arms crossed, with a look of pride on her face. 

Yes, your mother was ecstatic about what you had accomplished. No other dragon rider besides The Old King, Jaehaerys could claim the beast, the Bronze Fury. Many attempted, and many failed. However, because of your efforts, create a sense of joy and relief in your mother’s eyes. Never would she imagine her youngest child to claim one of the largest dragons alive. Vermithor was an untamable beast with a feisty personality. Perhaps it takes likeness to your spirit and simply bonded. She would have to ask you again to recall how you did it. 

The walls of the grand castle were empty and welcoming. You felt adrenaline scorch through your veins when you climbed up the stairs of the grand hall. The exterior was glorious. You could holler and scream and it would echo throughout all the corridors like a never-ending chamber. You held a skittish smile, as you made your way up, placing one hand on the rails for support. You could hear your father’s voice echo behind. Careful, you mustn’t fall, my love!

Even if you dropped to the ground, you would immediately pull yourself up and climb the stairs again. It was how desperate you were to meet Rhaenyra. You desperately wanted to tell her! 

Across the royal chambers, Rhaenyra was lounging outside notably. She sat under the Weirwood tree at leisure with Alicent beside her with a book in hand. She read aloud one of its stories, a romantic tale of a Dornish princess. But the dragon princess barely paid mind to what the Hand’s daughter was reading, she was more in tune with the moving sky. The baby blue ocean from above and the fluffy clouds that looked like soft cushions. The Realm’s Delight longed to ride with Syrax, despite only returning from her morning ride. If she could live in the sky forever, Rhaenyra would want to. 

She spotted a few of the Kingsguards that patrolled stop in front of someone. It looked as though they were permitting passage but seconds later, she saw them nod in unison simultaneously. They cleared the path and there you were. Striding in happy and irregular steps with your flowy dress of blue seashells and gemstones. She is reminded each time of your wealth and beauty. Cool-toned colors were your style as there was no other pigment you dressed in confidently and proudly, Sometimes she wonders how you would look in crimson red and black. 

“Princess!” Alicent was the first to speak on your behavior. It was not every day to see you all of a sudden in King's Landing. After Lord Corlys’s many disagreements with the Council. he chose to be absent from court. This irritated King Viserys and the rest of the Council, knowing without their Master of Ships, their collaboration would be deemed incomplete. Nevertheless, your appearance would confirm that your father had once again returned to the capitol. “I didn’t expect to see you here!” The brown-haired princess gleams, shutting the book entirely, and rising to meet you in a short embrace. 

Your giddiness is affectionate. It makes Rhaenyra feel light and blissful of your unannounced arrival. “It is good to see you, my Lady!” You’re teasing, tightly wrapping your arms around Alicent before releasing with sweet laughter. Alicent snickers, as the highlights of her dimples flush in soft pales of the color rose. 

“I told you, Alicent is fine!” 

“I know!” The two of you seemed to be in your world whenever your visits happened. You would appear, and Alicent bursts excitement and jitteriness. Rhaenyra finds it amusing to watch it unfold. But for not witnessing your presence for so long, she rather feels a little hurt and apprehensive of your attachment to the Hand’s daughter. If your mere attendance brought such delight, then your words brought an abundance of warmth and tenderness. “Nyra!”

Finally, the Princess of Dragonstone looks up, feeling slightly closed off from your welcome. Yet when she lays her velvet eyes on you, she can’t help but feel you are forgiven. Your expression was gentle and serene. “Princess,” Your name feels light off her lips as it always did. You playfully roll your eyes before releasing your grip on Alicent to hold onto Rhaenyra’s hands. They were inviting and delicate. 

“I missed you,” You whine, dramatically, dragging out the last part as though you haven’t seen each other in months. When really, it has been less than a month. The most you have visited were a full three days, staying overnight in the guest's bedrooms. It was when your father had an important mission to relay with the lords he chose to stay longer. You, on the other hand, wanted a sleepover. And by now, you should have a bedroom, personalized for whenever you wish to come to visit. You have on many occasions to irk your father and mother’s minds.

“The last time we spoke you were whisked away by your father,” She scoffs lightly which earns a questionable raised brow from Alicent. Your expression does not falter at her offense. “even though you said we would meet again.” Petty and stubborn were the words you describe Rhaenyra Targaryen. She was rather protective and loyal to the people closest to her. You importantly, she greatly values you. And weeks ago, you promised her, however, things took a turn with your father and you had to abide. 

“And we have,” You grin, lovingly, holding her hands up to your chest. It was a subtle sign of an apology and care. You carried your promise, even if it had taken weeks to fulfill because of interpersonal matters. But you are here now, in front of her, your energetic personality never failing. “I have great news.” 

The silvery-haired princess seemed to take your understated gesture sincerely as she closed the gap between you two. Curiosity caught her gaze as her lavender orbs did not move away from your own. “Well, what is it?” Suddenly you’re aware you’ve kept a tight grip on Rhaenyra as she allowed you to trap both her hands. The close intimacy is acknowledged by you when you try not to break away your gaze from hers. Alicent seemed visibly bothered by it but you are not facing her to know. 

The wind whistles in anticipation, and the Weirwood tree heaves and blows the dead leaves off of its branches. The luscious green fields dance back and forth in little tiny unison. The scent of dirt and fresh mint is present. As you inhale deeply before revealing, “I claimed a dragon.” 

A moment of silence before a heaved gasp came from the Hightower princess. 

“Congratulations!” 

You can feel the butterflies float up to your chest when you see both of the girl's expressions in a state of happiness and revelation. You give an animated smile, “Thank you!”

“Are you joking?” You can see on Rhaenyra’s face, she is still in shock which morphs into pleasure and ecstasy. 

You shake your head enthusiastically, and repeatedly, shaking both you and the Princess in a hop. “No!”

“Oh thank the gods!” Your cousin blurts, embracing you in a well-deserved embrace. Her arms coil around your back with a squeeze. The encouragement both Rhaenyra and Alicent had given you was something you cherished dearly. For the longest time, you blame yourself for not being able to claim a dragon. No egg would hatch or a wild dragon would approach you. You studied and performed all the ways to encounter them. Yet none had prevailed and up until recently, you felt exasperated on the idea of bonding with a dragon. You were extremely jealous of Laenor and Rhaenyra for their impeccable bond. You and Laena longed for it for your entire lives, it made you moody and neglectful. 

Therefore their support had kept you least tolerable. Your mother and father were understanding and patient with your fits. Even King Viserys and Queen Aemma sometimes consoled you that one day you would claim a dragon. Whichever dragon you did not care for, you knew your companion was out there. 

“Which dragon did you claim?” The brunette girl comes to your side, eager and curious to know what of your new beast. 

“Yes, which one did you claim?” Your silver-haired cousin urges, shaking your hands back and forth. 

You felt like a bubble waiting to pop with excitement. You wanted all the streams and ribbons the castle could offer to be released for your accomplishment. You took a deep breath before letting out a slow exhale to calm your beating heart. “Vermithor.” 

In an instant, Rhaenyra’s face falls. “Vermithor.” 

“Yes, Vermithor!” You were blinded by the enthusiasm Alicent portrayed with her hands, clapping and squealing in awe at you. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Vermithor!” The Hand’s daughter takes your left hand and swirls her thumbs around your knuckles. “I’m so happy for you!” Again the call of your name is murmured frankly and in reverence. “One of the largest dragons alive in the world and you had claimed it!” 

Satisfaction filled your chest. Nothing could compare to the prideful looks your friends and family had for you on this day. It truly was something to celebrate something this spectacular. Not since Jaehaerys, your great grandfather rode the dragon. Your mother would surely want you to ride Vermithor immediately as he was still considered wild. But if Jaehaerys managed to tame the beast, you knew you could. 

She could not explain it. Rhaenyra had always thought highly of you. She would disparage you out of anything. You were too pure for her frustration. What is she angry about? The princess could not explain. But whenever she passed the corridors of the Keep or the chambers of her mother’s ladies in waiting, she would hear the praise and compliments for your achievement. My, haven't you heard? The youngest daughter of Corlys Velaryon claimed Vermithor! The dragon King Jaehaerys rode! It must be fate. 

To what end was it fated? Dragons chose their riders. It was unclear how the bonds between rider and dragon existed but it was something genuine. So it shouldn’t confuse her when she sees you when on Driftmark, practicing to fly with the Bronze Fury. You struggled the first few times. She recalls those moments well, laughing and teasing you to no end of the amount of times you fell into the mud. Mounting on a dragon was a gradual adjustment. As she stared into the view of the ocean shore and deep gray-blue waters, you and your dragon were by the shorelines, attempting to be in sync with one another. A few feet from you was Rhaenys. As commanding and benevolent she was to you and not to her. 

Rhaenys Targaryen was quick-witted. She never had a great relationship with the Queen who Never Was. But in contrast, she was soft to you and held untainted remorse for her youngest child. Meleys was beside her rider, cooing and staring at you and Vermithor in inquiry. Much similar to her companion, Rhaenys said something Rhaenyra could not understand before watching you shake your head in disbelief. Vermithor was a grueling and deadly creature. The fact that you were young did not change its attention. It croaks and cranes its neck down for you to climb on its upper back. 

A saddle was neatly strapped on the beast. It must take ages to put on. Vermithor was known for his savage behavior. Yet if you were present with him, she deems he would have been docile to take care of. 

“Why are you pouting?” 

It was the late evening on Driftmark when she proposed a walk with you along the beach line. It was the many hobbies you both enjoyed in your homeland. Salt and sea were everywhere as opposed to her home, King’s Landing filled with endless brick walls and dust. The island is peaceful and serene when there are no fishing ships in the water. Rhaenyra can never be tired of the view and the sea salt air Driftmark supplies. It’s refreshing and so calm. 

“I’m not pouting.” The Princess of Dragonstone argues, her off tone marks it remarkable that her fickle state of mind. She should know better. You know her well, more than most of her maids and sometimes father. 

“You are,” The corners of your lips curve as you kick a few clumps of sand off the ground. “I’ve noticed since coming here, you’ve been…distant.” A personality all of your siblings share is your tenderness. Laena had a graceful heart and Laenor a compassionate one. Yours was resilient. You held onto things for far too long and you’re incredibly devoted to the people you love. You become easily attached to things, people, and the attention. Can she blame you? For a long time, you felt ridiculed and ashamed for your lack of a dragon. Your sadness must be more out of sympathy than Laena’s. By the time your sister claimed Vhagar, you were left as an outcast. 

The Realm’s Delights huffs, crossing her arms behind her back. “Seasick I suppose,” In truth, she never was seasick. Rhaenyra had traveled to Driftmark many times to be immune to the sickness. She knew it was a weak lie, one you would catch easily. But she did not like being confronted on whatever was on your mind. 

“Nonsense,” You jest, before stomping both your feet firmly into the brown sugar sand. Your stance makes the princess stop. “I know you dislike Vermithor.” 

She looks at you, astonished. “What?” 

You push further into the dirt until your heels are engulfed. “I can see it, Rhaenyra. You do not like him.”  Your assumption makes her head spin. Because in what world would she have any disregard against a dragon? Rhaenyra adored all dragons the same. They were a part of her family’s legacy. But she figures you must’ve seen her sometimes glare in the direction of your dragon to believe she had no love for the Bronze Fury. 

The silver-haired girl shakes her head. “No, it’s not that.” She did not want to explain this to you. Feeling ashamed and embarrassed at her feelings, Rhaenyra deems you unfit to hear such nonsense. “It’s more childish than that.”

Your head quirks sideways. You looked confused as your eyebrows rose as well. She can feel the winds pick up as the tides come toward you both. Its cold water brushes past your feet but you ignore it completely. “How so?” 

Must she explain at such a time? “I must admit, for the past few days, I’ve been feeling remorseful.” She quipped, finding the freezing chill of the sea comforting for this kind of conversation. “I’m sure you’ve seen me grow bitter, even resentful towards you and Vermithor. For that I apologize but- it’s a small feeling.” 

“You feel resentful towards me and Verm?” She can see your eyes flicker, as you contemplate and allow your mind to take in her words. Your loose hair is down, you’re gorgeous. Even in your night clothes and were of the absence of jewelry and pretty colors. 

“Was,” She reaffirms, unable to look you in the eye. Rhaenyra feels ashamed for feeling this way. She does not want to hurt your feelings. “The attention, the people, they spoke of you for days about what you have done, claiming King Jaehaerys dragon. All everyone wanted to do was talk about you and how you proved yourself to become the greatest rider.” The more she rambles, the hot tears flood her vision. She does not seem weak to you. She was spilling her truth to you, she had to let it out. 

You held a calm expression. “But I’m not the greatest rider,” Yes, you were not. Your bond was still young. You still struggled with communicating with Vermithor sometimes daily. How can you be considered the greatest even when you struggled to mount your dragon? 

“That is what the people say,” Accidently your cousin snaps but quickly regains her composure. She looks at her feet and the sand below. It was as if she pleaded for forgiveness. There is nothing to forgive, you’re angry. You’d say but she continues. “I was sick and tired of it all. Even my father spoke highly of you and it offended me. Why do I feel this way? I should be happy for you!” The mist around you clouds the floor. It’s sombrous and cool to touch. Everything Rhaenyra had held back was gone and it felt somewhat cathartic. She knows you must’ve felt hurt by her words, she was harsh.

She was afraid to touch you. But you did not care, gripping her forearm suddenly. Rhaenyra’s gaze finally breaks and stares at you, wide-eyed. Her tear-filled eyes shattered your heart, fully aware of her fragile condition. “I don’t blame you for what you feel, Rhaenyra. I too felt the same way when Laena claimed Vhagar, do you remember it? I was restless, unable to sleep at night - why couldn't I do what she had done.” The Princess of Dragonstone does not pull away from your grasp but simply gazes at your quivering lips. “I grew to be resentful of my sister. My heart grew dark and left people in danger. I regret feeling this way towards her now because of it. Do you understand?” 

The expression on your face said it all as she observed. The strained look flashed before you as you recounted the painful memories. In the days after Laena’s bond, you were cruel and cold. You spoke less to your family, ashamed and poisoned by jealousy. You would snap at the sailors more often and drive them into more dangerous scenarios to spite them. Your pettiness was revolting to watch, your father, Corlys growing instantly tired of your immature tantrums for something you could not control. He would cry out to you about how ignorant your actions were and then dismiss your privileges to sailing his ships. All while your mother felt she could do nothing to stop you in your frustration. She watched from a distance as her husband criticized you openly for your infuriating flaws, making it known to all you had gone too far. 

Slow but surely, when you stepped closer to her gave you the courage to tell her what needed to be heard. “I cannot change what you feel, but if you wish for me to leave, then please tell me.” You huffed in pain as your cold fingers traced along her arm and then moved to her hands. In some ways like this, you were fragile like porcelain. Sometimes Rhaenyra forgot you were younger than her. And now she felt like the childish one. 

“No, I—” She gulps, her fear evident. She didn't want to lose you as well. “Please don’t go.”

Your eye-opening conversation marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life. Connecting with the Bronze Fury required some time to adapt to both yourself and those around you. As the newest rider, you felt the world embracing you. However, what you cherished most was the experience of riding. You hailed from Old Valyria, with the blood of the Dragon in your veins. Riding with Vermithor became a daily routine, a privilege you savored. It was the most incredible gift you could have received.

Rhaenyra slowly became accepting of it as well. You can tell by the way her lips curl when you mount off of your dragon, that she was proud of you. You were a dragon rider! Now, you and she could soar through the skies for eternity if you wished. It was a dream come true, and you were overjoyed that she had forgiven you.

When you were above the skies, it was breathtaking. No view from below could compare to the ones over the clouds. You admit now why you found Rhaenyra’s obsession with flying to be so addicting. It was. When you’re up there, it feels as though nothing matters but you and the pale blue heavens. Vermithor would always groan in his grumpy way to show affection. He enjoyed riding above, you’ve felt his calm heartbeat and knew he too felt as relaxed as you did. When Rhaenyra joined you, which was a regular occurrence, you two would race. Up and down the clouds, like both of you danced in between the midst.

She looked dashing in her rider’s uniform. Black leather, plastered to resemble dragon scales alongside matching gloves. You resembled a familiar approach, having bronze leather strapped all over to stimulate Vermithor’s charming scales. You reminisced that he even once nudged at you from behind as a sign of appreciation for it.

Vermithor, the ruthless wid dragon growing soft because of you. You always had your chance to mention it to him before riding as a reminder of your sincere relationship. As a rider and dragon, the two of you bonded over adventure and tricks. You loved exploring the faraway lands to only encourage the Bronze Fury more driven to fly. 

But there were also moments when you were reminded of how reckless you could be with him. On the morning of your uncle’s name day, you convinced Rhaenyra to fly out to the Estermount Sea, close to the Triarchy of Essos. At first, the princess urged you of the danger, the Triarchy were pirates who paraded in raiding others for fun. Additionally, they had been targets of your father’s ships, disrupting trade. Yet you dismissed her pleas and pursued with an eager grin. 

The first few moments entering the sea territory were quiet. Both of you were mindful of the harsh waves there and how foggy it was similar to the Stormlands. But Rhaenyra persisted with her worries when you wanted to challenge her to dive down close to the sea. 

“We shouldn’t be here!” Her lilac eyes were defined with anxiousness as the princess held her dragon’s reins tightly. However you were indifferent, all too casual in uncharted areas. 

“We’re fine! We’re high enough in the sky!” you shout, a broad grin stretching across your face as you gaze at the small islands of Essos below. They look both foreign and beautiful. You’ve never ventured this far from home before.

But that was the last moment of calm you experienced. Suddenly, a harpoon appeared out of nowhere, narrowly missing you and Vermithor by the shoulder. The weapon moved with such speed and force that you had no time to process what was happening. Rhaenyra saw it clearly—she watched as the massive arrow zipped past you, inches away from your body, before plunging into the sea below. Someone had attempted to attack you. The worst followed: the harpoon's impact sent you and Vermithor into a chaotic frenzy. You leaped as your dragon swerved violently, causing you to be thrown from your saddle. For a moment, your body was there, and then it wasn’t.

The princess screamed in desperation, urgently commanding Syrax to dive into the water in an attempt to catch your falling body. Your dragon was beside hers, plummeting and speeding towards the sea floor as you descended. With a whoosh, Vermithor swooped in at the last moment, grabbing you from a fatal plunge. His claws, though sharp, gripped you with surprising gentleness, and you stared in terror as he held you safely.

The memory was deeply distressing. Your hair was now disheveled and tangled from the fall. Tears streamed down your cheeks, leaving your skin glistening and drenched. Rhaenyra could only sob with relief, feeling utterly exhausted and wishing it were all just a nightmare. Yet it was all too real. She felt Syrax’s comforting purr in response to her discomfort. Her father and yours would have been shouting endlessly about this.

Despite everything, all she could remember was the devastated look on your face.

It was madness. Jacaerys would tell her, her son parading around her room as they waited for all of the Targaryen bastards to arrive. Here she was, Rhaenyra Targaryen, in Dragonstone, pursuing the inevitable. The idea of recruiting Dragon Seeds was bizarre but what choice did she have? There was no one left in her family who could claim one. Distant Houses with the blood of Valyria were risky. She had to sacrifice one of her knights to do it. Perhaps this was the only way to win the war. 

Years without your presence brought Rhaenyra sorrow and time to reflect on herself. It had been long since she was gifted to speak your name so openly. Everyone knew of her relationship with you. The princess cherished you deeply and with your absence, left the Realm soulfully longing. Rhaenys despises her because of it. She wondered if part of the princess's resentment was directly tied towards you or the fact she was given the title of heir or both. Yet after Alicent’s son had taken her throne, Rhaenys stood by her side, as did her husband. 

Meeting all of the Targaryen bastards was daunting at first. Rhaenyra knew many infidelities were common for any lord to allow their seed to spread. To witness so many of them in a room made her all the more encouraged to believe her plan would succeed. It must, it should. She could feel all of their eyes focus entirely on her like a beacon of hope. They believed what they were doing was right to protect the realm. And for that, she will use it to attain. 

The Dragonpit had never felt so cold or so secure. It was secluded within a murky cave, miles tall and wide. It’s humid, water drips everywhere as the Black Queen strides down onto the platform where the dragon would be summoned. Forty or so Dragon Seeds followed her, paranoid and trembling about what was to come. She would have to believe in the gods, Rhaenyra sighed. If there is a strategy better than this, she would take it. But Alicent’s son had taken something from her by force and for that, she could not comply. 

“Come forward, Vermithor.” Her accent revealed her fluency in the High Vayrlian language. Rhaenyra readied herself for the beast. Seconds of silence loomed over all those in the Dragonpit like a neverending time bomb. The wait was excruciating yet the inevitable was daunting to witness. Out of the shadows comes a growl, which causes a few of the Dragon seeds to slightly panic. But the Queen knew better. And Vermithor as well.

He looms, towering over the cockpit like a living nightmare. His crooked teeth glowed an intimidating appearance for all, and the simmer of his bronze scales shined. “Obey! Stay calm, Vermithor!” Commanded by Rhaenyra as she stares up at the beast, unafraid. She holds an imposing scowl before witnessing the Bronze Fury lower his snout. The Black Queen reaches out of her hand, cautiously and slowly. 

Her hand makes contact with his snout and calmly Rhaenyra recognizes the sense of calm Vermithor had with her whenever you were around. It felt as though he resembled your presence and familiarity. This intuition puts a warm smile on her face. 

[bucky-fricking-barnes]

The Cards We're Dealt

Title: The Cards We’re Dealt

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 15k

Warnings: Arranged marriage, alcohol, cursing, objectification of women and mild sexism, bad parents, angst, fluff, mentions of drugs

Summary: Bucky and Y/N are the children of the two most prominent mob bosses in New York. When their parents use them as part of a deal, they’re left to figure out how their lives fit together.

A/N: Wow! Another long fic because I have no self-restraint. There’s a bit of Irish in this because I couldn’t resist it when I wrote Steve. Translations are at the end, and anything incorrect can be blamed on Google Translate. As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting, reblogging, and supporting me in all the ways you do. 

There is an unspoken rule amongst the mobs in New York that the more drug manufacturers a man controls, the nicer you treat his daughter. So, when Bucky’s father tells him that he’s once again been pimped out as part of a deal, Bucky knows to ask the question,

“How many does he control?”

If Bucky had his way, of course, he would treat all girls as well as he is able (which is very well). He likes girls, and he likes going out with girls. He just wishes he could choose which girls he got to take out.

“Seventy-five percent,” George Barnes says, and Bucky freezes with his glass against his lips. He has a club soda to his father’s whiskey—he’s in a good mood and was actually hoping to enjoy the day, though now he’s reconsidering it. His plan to lounge by the pool with Becca and soak up as much of the late spring sunshine as possible is quickly dissipating. 

“That’s not possible,” Bucky replies. He quickly does the math in his head. His dad owns over half the manufacturers in Brooklyn. “We own—“

“Not anymore.”

The library falls silent as Bucky tries to wrap his head around the news. Just yesterday he’d overheard his father on the phone with one of his men, explaining in great detail what he’d do if they didn’t get him a sample of their newest product by the top of the hour.

“How?” he asks. He sets his glass aside and sits straighter in his chair. “Did something happen? You didn’t tell me about a takeover.”

George takes a sip of his whiskey. “That’s because there wasn’t one.” He sets the crystal tumbler on the small bronze tray nearby. Marta will come clean it up later. “I sold them.”

“You sold them? If you’ve already struck a deal, then why am I taking out his daughter? Isn’t that normally something you have me do to butter their fathers up before you make the deal?”

Bucky watches as his own father stands and goes to watch the landscapers through the library window, his hands clasped behind his back. He’s long since been out of the army, but some habits die hard. Very rarely did the man ever relax.

“You are the deal,” George answers, his voice much too casual for Bucky’s liking.

“What the hell are you talking about?” snaps Bucky.

“Watch your tone, boy,” his father replies. He doesn’t turn around to witness the way Bucky grinds his teeth together in response. “In exchange for the majority of Theo’s territory, you and Y/N will be married within a year and a half, though the exact date is up to the two of you. I believe that Theo mentioned his daughter likes spring, so perhaps a spring wedding. June is popular, from what I’m told, though that’s cutting it a little close to the deadline.”

Bucky’s up out of his seat now. He can feel his pulse thrumming and he can’t quite catch his breath.

“So what? You threw me in to sweeten the pot? Am I just another bargaining chip to you now?”

He’s shouting. He doesn’t care.

George turns and regards him in silence, and, like always, his expression betrays nothing of what he’s thinking or feeling. He doesn’t seem fazed at all by Bucky’s outburst.

“You’re my heir. I make my decisions based on what’s best for our family. Nothing about this decision is impulsive or frivolous, James,” he finally answers, his voice cool and even. There’s nothing familial in his tone—George Barnes is all business. 

“You can’t just decide that I’m getting married. I won’t do it. I refuse,” Bucky tells him. He balls his fists at his sides and he sets his jaw, furious. How dare his father try to control his life like this? It’s one thing to occupy the majority of Bucky’s nights and weekends with dates, meetings, dinners, and weapons runs, but it’s another to throw him into a marriage he doesn’t want.

“I can and you will. If you don’t, there will be consequences. To start, you will be immediately cut off from our family. You will have no money, no home, no resources, and no contact or communication with anyone involved in the business, including your mother and your sister.”

Heart pounding, Bucky glares at him. He’s got a migraine coming on. He knows his father isn’t kidding, but he wants more than anything for Steve to pop out and say that this is all just a joke. He’s never even met Theo’s daughter. He’s barely even met Theo. According to the rumors, his only daughter is his most prized treasure. She isn’t someone who frequents any of the bars, clubs, and restaurants that he and the other “mob children” frequent. Maybe “mob children” isn’t exactly the right term, at least not anymore. After all, Bucky’s engaged now. He’s just part of the mob, another pawn to be moved around the chessboard.

“You have the rest of the day off. I’ll see you at eight tomorrow morning,” says George. He picks up his glass and downs the last of the liquor. “Theo and his family are coming for breakfast, and then Y/N will be moving in with us. I want you on your best behavior.”

He pauses and Bucky continues to glare at him, not validating his words with a response. George’s eyes grow dark with a thinly veiled threat. Bucky knows that look—if he pushes his father any harder, he’ll regret it. 

“Do you understand, boy?”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky grinds out.

Turning on his heel, Bucky stalks out of the library and slams the door behind him. He immediately heads down the hall, then down the stairs and across the ground floor of the Barnes Estate to the garage. His keys are still in his pocket; he’d only just gotten back from a night out with Steve when his father had summoned him.

It doesn’t matter that he’s still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Bucky climbs onto his bike and revs the engine, speeding off down the long driveway that winds around the house. The guards barely get the gate open in time and then he’s flying down the road, heading straight to Steve’s bar in the city. He knows his friend will be there, most likely nursing his hangover and going over the books in his back office. He won’t be hard to convince to go out again, though Bucky knows he won’t approve of the plan to drink as much as he possibly can in the next twelve hours. It doesn’t matter, though—it’s Bucky’s last night as a free man, and he’s determined to make the most of it.

You sit between your parents, staring at the empty seat across from you. They’d told you this morning that you were going to the Barnes Estate for breakfast, and while you’d expected the grandeur of the dining room and the meal, you didn’t expect the eldest Barnes child to be completely absent. You’ve never met him, but your mother has insisted that you speak to James—George Barnes’ only son and heir—as much as possible during the meal. Supposedly, he’s the same age as you.

Rebecca Barnes is a ray of sunshine and her cheery disposition is a stark contrast to the dark clouds that now hang over your fathers’ heads. Maybe it’s a deal gone wrong or maybe it’s something else, but you don’t like it. It leaves an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Silently, you sneak a hand under the table to find your mother’s. You squeeze and your mom squeezes back, glancing over to give a reassuring smile.

“Y/N,” Mrs. Barnes starts, and you jump a little in your seat. You haven’t been verbally addressed since you’d been seated a half hour ago. The food has yet to be served. “Your parents tell us that you’re very interested in horticulture. Did you know we have a rose garden out back?”

You force a polite smile. “I don’t know about very interested. I have a few house plants that I’ve managed to keep alive, though I would love to see your garden sometime. I’m sure it’s beautiful,” you add.

“Maybe Bucky can take you,” Rebecca says, earning herself a sharp look from her mother. She simply shrugs.

Oh, to be as unbothered as Rebecca Barnes!

“Where is James?” your father asks. His voice is a low, threatening growl and you sink down in your chair, staring at the cloth napkin still folded atop your plates.

“He knows to be here,” Mr. Barnes growls back. “You’ll have to excuse his tardiness, he’s not normally like this.”

Mrs. Barnes gives Rebecca an even harsher look when she opens her mouth to speak, and this time the girl actually looks ashamed. She takes a sip of her orange juice to hide the guilty look on her face. She’s the first person to have actually touched something on the table, and it’s like whatever spell the room has been under is broken.

All at once, the dining room springs to life. A short, slightly heavy-set woman in a gray dress and white apron enters through one door. She’s holding a delicate silver coffeepot and the smell of coffee instantly fills the room. Two younger women in identical uniforms follow behind her, each of them pushing golden carts laden with food. Through the door across the room, a tall man with short, dark brown hair stumbles in. He’s wearing all black, from his rumpled button-up and jeans to his boots and sunglasses. His hair is sticking up in every direction and just like the coffee, you can smell the stench of alcohol coming from him even from your seat.

You grimace at the smell and pull your napkin into your lap as one of the women comes to place food in front of you. It’s a formal dining service and the strange new man who’s entered feels entirely out of place. From his attire to the way he shuffles across the antique rug, everything about him screams that he’d rather be anywhere else. If you acted like that, your father would be pulling you back out into the hallway to reprimand you, and you look anxiously at Mr. Barnes, who’s seated at the head of the table. 

“James,” he greets, his voice unnervingly even. A chill runs down your spine. “It’s nice of you to join us. I trust that you slept well last night?”

James collapses into the only empty chair at the table, the one across from you, and pointedly ignores his father. You risk a glance up at him as he reaches for the cup of coffee that’s already been poured.

True to form, Rebecca leans over and claps a hand on her brother’s shoulder blade. “Good morning! Aren’t you excited to have breakfast with our guests?” she shouts, and her smirk makes it much too clear that she’s fully enjoying the way her brother’s scowl deepens. Rebecca also ignores her parents, including her mother, who leans forward to look past James and give her a look of warning.

James shrugs his sister off of him and starts buttering the toast on his plate. You watch for a moment, then start picking at your own food as your mother also begins to eat. Everyone’s acting so strangely that you’re already on edge, and you’ve only managed to get down a few grapes and two bites of dry toast by the time your father speaks up again.

“So when are we signing these papers?” he asks, sipping his coffee. 

“As soon as the marriage license is signed,” answers Mr. Barnes.

You frown. Marriage license? Who’s getting married?

“And the terms are the same as when we last spoke?”

Mr. Barnes sips his own drink, something that looks suspiciously like whiskey, and sets down the glass. “Yes. I have that contract in my office. We’ll review and sign after we’re done here. Are all of your daughter’s things ready to be moved?”

Your stomach drops and you turn to stare at your father with wide eyes. He nods, not even paying attention to you as he continues his conversation with the other man. Your mother pointedly ignores you, choosing instead to stare at her plate as she eats. When you look around the room, it seems like almost everyone else is doing the same. Rebecca is the only person who actually meets your panicked gaze. She gives you a pitying look as your anxiety rises.

It feels like your mouth is filled with sandpaper, and you grab your glass of juice. You have to drink half of it before the feeling even mildly abates. As soon as you set it down, one of the women in gray appears to refill it.

“What’s going on? Why are you moving my stuff?” you finally choke out. You twist the napkin in your lap with both hands, wringing it as you look from one person’s face to the next.

Mr. Barnes stops mid-sentence and the whole room freezes. Even James, who’s pouring something into his coffee cup from a small silver flask, stops what he’s doing.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” your mother begins, taking your hand under the table.

You want to pull away. You don’t.

“After breakfast, your father and I are going home, but you’ll be staying here with the Barneses.”

“What?” you whisper, your eyes filling with tears. “No, I don’t— I don’t want to stay here. You never said anything about me—“

“We’re getting married,” James interrupts. He’s chewing and you look over at him, gaping at the casual way he’s sprawled out in his chair. You can feel his gaze on you even from behind his sunglasses and it makes you feel dirty. 

“Excuse me?”

He chuckles and sits up, then leans forward in the chair. He drops the greasy strip of bacon he’d been eating onto his plate. “We’re getting married. They’re using us like bartering chips, sweetheart. You and me in exchange for all the drugs and all the territory in New York.” James gestures grandly with one hand, a too-wide grin on his face. There must be at least ten rings on each of his hands and you swallow thickly at the threatening display of black and silver metal.

You’re trembling now and you pull your hand away from your mom’s. She reaches for you again but you shake your head, shying away from her touch. Frantically, you look around the room to see if this is some kind of joke or a drunken rambling, but no one is laughing. Even Mrs. Barnes has the decency to look sympathetic on your behalf.

“No, no. You wouldn’t—“ You look back at your parents, imploring them to say that it isn’t true. You swallow thickly, trying to stave off tears, and your voice wavers as you prompt, “Mom? Dad?”

Their silence speaks volumes and a whimper escapes you as you wring your hands in your lap. The napkin slides onto the floor. It suddenly feels like you can’t breathe and when your mom reaches out for a second time and starts to tell you to calm down, you jerk away and stand. The chair falls backwards behind you, but you ignore it as you rush out of the dining room and into the hallway you’d entered from. Everything is unfamiliar. Frantically, you pick a door and yank on the handle. It doesn’t give way and you continue the process until one of them finally opens and you can rush inside. You lock it behind you and press your back against the door. The curtains on the floor-to-ceiling windows are closed, shrouding the room in darkness. You can’t make out much of the furniture through the tears in your eyes.

Out in the hallway, you can hear your mother calling for you and your father arguing with Mr. Barnes. Mrs. Barnes is yelling at somebody too, but it’s hard enough to hear the others over your own gasps and sobs. You’re properly crying now and you sink to the floor, curling up on the carpet as you heave. It’s a good thing you weren’t able to stomach much breakfast.

A knock on the door makes you yelp and then cry harder, and you crawl into the darkness of the room to try and find a hiding spot. You’re lucky enough to find an old, heavy desk right away. It’s the perfect size for you to crawl under for shelter, and there’s no chair for you to move out of the way. The drawers on both sides create a cubby for you, so you crawl into it and curl up into a ball with your back towards the door, just in case someone manages to get in. If you’re quiet enough, it’s possible they’ll walk right past you.

The crowd in the hallway has definitely heard you by now. The doorknob is rattling as whoever’s on the other side tries to get in, but after a few minutes, they stop and the hallway goes quiet. You hold your breath after every couple of sobs, listening for any sign that they’ve found a key or that they’re picking the lock. Nothing happens, however, and after a while, you give up on listening.

You sit in the darkness and cry until you’re thoroughly exhausted. Once you’ve run out of tears, you sit and zone out with your head resting against the side of the desk drawers for a while longer, numb from the news. Your body feels light and a buzzing, tingling feeling makes moving your limbs seem impossible. You could’ve never imagined that your parents would be so capable of treating you so poorly. You’ve always felt so loved by them, and to hear that they’ve practically thrown you away at the first chance of a profit makes you want to puke. Upon that realization, you actually do throw up, and the stink of your vomit on the carpet of whatever room you’re in makes you want to cry all over again.

The door opens just as the stench is becoming too much to bear. Light floods in from the hallway and you squint, curling up in fear. After a moment, the shorter woman in the gray uniform that you’d seen at breakfast appears a few feet away from the desk, right in the path of light. You look up at her. 

“Oh dear,” she sighs, and you instantly feel ashamed at the disappointment in her voice.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. Your bottom lip is trembling again as fresh tears somehow appear in your eyes. Sniffling, you wipe your nose with the back of your wrists. “I can clean it if you—“

“You’ll do no such thing,” the woman says. Her voice is gentle and kind, so much so that you don’t feel the need to argue with her. She waves her hand dismissively and approaches you, then holds out both hands. She’s careful not to step in the mess you’ve made. “Now come on, up you go.”

You let her help you to your feet and then you straighten out your clothes, sniffling and wiping at your nose again in a desperate attempt to look more put together than you feel. Still a bit unsteady, you whimper for a second time, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, dear.” She gives you a warm smile. “My name’s Marta. I’m the head housekeeper here. It’s very nice to meet you.”

You don’t feel the same way about meeting her, given the circumstances, but you hold that comment to yourself and simply nod in agreement. Marta leads you back out into the too-bright hallway. It’s empty except for a bald man mopping the floor on the far end.

The high ceilings and glossy marble floors make it look like you’re in a castle. Even the silence feels regal. Everything seems so cold compared to your home, and you feel too small in the massive space.

“What time is it?” you quietly ask, looking back at Marta.

“It’s almost noon, Miss.”

Your stomach sinks and you press your lips together, inhaling deeply as you look around again. Three hours have passed.  “My parents…”

“They left about fifteen minutes after breakfast,” she tells you. Her words are matter-of-fact, even if she delivers the news in the softest possible way.

Somehow it hurts worse that they’ve left you than finding out they’d practically sold you to the Barneses in exchange for God knows what. Drugs or territory, whatever James had said. Not only did they treat you like nothing, but they’d deserted you after it was clear you didn’t agree with their plans. They hadn’t even tried to reassure you that they still loved you or that you’d still be able to see them. Maybe you wouldn’t be. Maybe they didn’t.

You nod numbly. There’s been nothing to prepare you for this, no precursor or warning, so you keep looking around the hall, though in reality you’re not really seeing anything. 

“Your room is ready upstairs, Miss Y/N. Would you like me to take you?” asks Marta.

You nod again. You feel like you’re underwater as you follow her up a grand staircase and then down a long, narrow hallway. It’s decorated similarly to the ground floor, though with a plush Persian rug running its length. Marta talks as she walks ahead of you, no doubt explaining what the many doors lead to, but her words simply go in one ear and out the other. It’s all so surreal that when you finally get to your own room, you don’t even open the door. Marta has to reach around you to open it, and then she gently ushers you inside when you still don't move.

Just as they had said at breakfast, your belongings have all been moved into the Barnes Estate. The furniture here is different, grander than what you’re used to, but your blankets and pillows are on the bed, and the two bookshelves are packed full of the books you’ve collected over the years. Even the strip from the photo booth at an old friend’s wedding is pinned to the bulletin board above the desk. Someone’s even thought to put your plants on their own table by the window. 

“There’s a bathroom on the left and your closet is on the right,” Marta explains, pointing to each. “If you’re hungry, dinner is at five.”

“Do I have to eat with them?” you ask.

If Marta is surprised by your question, she doesn’t show it. She simply shakes her head with a gentle smile. “No. We can bring food here if you’d like.”

You nod and stand in silence until she leaves and closes the door behind her. Then, after another minute passes, you drag yourself over to the bed, climb under the covers, and close your eyes.

If there’s any mercy left in this life, you think, I’ll fall asleep and never wake up again.

Weeks pass and you still haven’t adjusted to life at the Barnes Estate. The staff is only slightly less friendly than those you grew up with, but they’re more attentive. It helps that there are more of them. For every member of the Barnes family, yourself included, there are at least four staff members to attend to their every need. It makes you feel like royalty, but it also makes you feel guilty. You don’t need this much. You certainly didn’t ask for it.

You haven’t seen James since the ill-fated breakfast, nor have you seen your parents. They’ve gone so far as to block your number. After that discovery, you’d locked yourself in the massive ensuite bathroom and cried for an hour. Marta had been the one to coax you out. The poor maid who’d found you when coming to get you for dinner hadn’t known how to help. You’d spent that entire evening curled up on your bed while reruns of The Nanny played on the TV embedded in the wall across from the massive mattress. Marta had spent every second with you that she could, but eventually Mrs. Barnes—Winnifred, as you referred to her in your mind—had scolded her for neglecting her nighttime duties across the estate. That made you feel even worse.

“Are you okay?” Rebecca asks, and you turn to look at her from where you’re staring out the hallway windows at the gardeners. The backyard is massive, complete with a rose garden in full bloom, an outdoor swimming pool, a forested walking trail, a large green expanse for games and parties, a gazebo, a fountain, and what seems to be stables far in the distance, though you haven’t ventured far enough to be sure. A visit to the rose garden hasn’t been brought up again either, and nothing seems interesting enough to explore on your own.

Nodding, you don’t say anything before turning back to watch the men work. They talk and laugh with each other as they prune, pick, and water. You wish that you could trade places with them. 

“You don’t look okay,” she says. Rebecca props herself up on the window ledge to your right, facing you with a suspicious look on her face. “We haven’t seen you at any meals, and Valerie told me that you were crying in the bathtub three nights ago.”

You should feel ashamed, but you’re too numb to care. It feels like you’re floating through each day, detached from most things. You’ve spent your entire life thinking that you would marry for love and live happily ever after. Now, your parents have sold you to the highest bidder and your husband-to-be is a cruel, disgusting man-child that wants nothing to do with you.

Rebecca’s fingers lacing with yours jerk you back to reality and you look down at your joined hands in confusion. Her nails are bitten short and she wears a single ring with the Barnes family crest. It’s dainty and gold, a stark contrast to the many rings on her brother’s fingers.

“You’re safe here, Y/N,” she tells you, her voice gentle. “You don’t have to be alone. I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened to you. If I had any say in it, you could be home right now with your parents, but I’m far from the top of the totem pole.”

“I hate them.” You spit the words out and jerk your hand away from hers. “I hate my parents.”

That’s the first time you’ve ever said that in your entire life and your heart skips a beat as the anger makes your lip curl. You’re baring your teeth at her but Rebecca doesn’t even flinch. She’s a mafia princess, through and through.

“They made me believe that I could have anything I wanted, that I could marry whoever I wanted whenever I was ready, and then they threw that all away and treated me like shit the first time it was convenient for them.”

She nods. “That’s true.”

“I was so foolish to have believed them,” you growl, but the fight in you is fading just as quickly as it came. You burn bright, but you burn quickly, too.

“No,” Rebecca says, shaking her head. “You’re just human.”

You look away, embarrassed by your display of emotion as your eyes begin to water with more tears. You were raised to be reserved. You knew very little about the inner workings of your parents’ business, but you’d learned as a young girl that you’d fare better if you always clung to the edges of the room, avoiding the dirt and grime and blood that surrounded your whole life. Over the years, you’ve grown very good at hiding yourself and your emotions from the people around you. From the spark in her eye, you have the feeling that Rebecca is the exact opposite. She could hold her own if it came down to it. You couldn’t.

“It’s okay to be upset,” she insists.

Shaking your head, you take a deep breath and look back out the window. You lift your chin slightly and when Rebecca tries to rope you into another conversation with her, you ignore her and focus on the men outside. They’re finished tending to the roses on the edges of the garden. Now they’re working their way inwards.

You’re finally left alone a few minutes later and as soon as she’s around the corner, you let out a heavy sigh and relax your posture. Slumping forward, you lean forward into the window ledge, curling up just a little as you continue to watch the gardeners. The silly song from Alice in Wonderland pops into your head and you hum along, eventually mumbling to yourself about painting the roses red.

You feel a little bit like Alice, you realize. You’re out of your element in a strange land where everything you’ve learned about life seems to be turned on its head. In this world, nobody marries for love and the girls are just as entrenched in the business as the men. Does Rebecca conduct business with her father and older brother? You could certainly picture it. Will the same be expected of you?

That afternoon, Marta knocks on your door with a written invitation from Winnifred. Your presence is being formally requested at their dinner table, though from the look the housekeeper is giving you, it’s more of a demand than a request. With her help, you pick out something to wear. By the time five o’clock rolls around, you’re crossing the enormous hallway in a dress and heels that you’ve never seen before. It’s far too showy for your taste, but it’s clearly something someone wanted you to wear. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have put it in your closet.

George Barnes and James stand when you enter the dining room, as do several other men you don’t recognize. Your father is standing near the head of the table with George, though your mother and Rebecca are nowhere in sight. Besides Winnifred, you don’t recognize any of the other women. The only empty seat is beside James and your immediate instinct is to flee, but then he’s stepping aside to pull out the chair and all eyes are on you.

Slowly, you close the distance between the two of you and sit. He helps you scoot in, then takes his own seat on your right. The other men sit as well and then dinner resumes. You sit in silence, staring at the top edge of your plate with your hands in your lap. You’re not really listening to the conversations around you, either, but you can feel someone’s eyes on you as you try to stay as quiet and motionless as possible.

“Are you sick or something?”

You startle and look up with wide eyes. James is watching you. He’s got one hand on the table with his fingers brushing the stem of his wineglass and the other resting on his thigh. Unlike your fateful breakfast weeks ago, James is dressed in a neat, all-black suit. He has no tie, and his rings are all gone except one. It’s identical to Rebecca’s family crest, except his is silver and has a thicker band.

His eyes are full of something you can’t place and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. As quickly as you turned to him, you turn away and look back at your plate. The napkin is folded in some elaborate way on top of the plate. You’re not sure if it’s supposed to resemble anything at all, but maybe if you stare at it long enough, it will look like something.

“Y/N?” he prompts. You nod once, tightly, and then pull the heavy cloth napkin into your lap when a server appears to present the first course.

Between the second and third course, you can feel James’ eyes on you. After the third, he gets roped into conversation with a man sitting across the table, but you know that he’s glancing at you all the while. After the fourth, he bumps his arm against yours. You shirk away and feel him tense beside you.

“Excuse me,” you mumble, and you push your chair away from the table. Immediately, the conversations stop and all the men stand again. It’s too much attention on you and you hurry out of the dining room as fast as your heels and dress will allow. You’re stumbling over yourself by the time you get back to your suite on the third floor. The door slams behind you and you collapse onto the floor beside the bed, too overwhelmed to even climb atop the oversized mattress. You’re on the verge of tears when there’s a soft knock from the door, and that rips a sob from your chest that you hadn’t expected.

Immediately, the door opens and James is standing in the open space, a dark look on his face. You sob again and scramble backwards until the edge of the bed frame is digging painfully into your spine.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

You swallow hard and take several gasping breaths, trying to control yourself. Your mind is spinning with insults, calling you weak and pathetic, and you believe every one.

“It’s just too much,” you answer through your tears. “I don’t want this!”

James huffs. His angry expression has faded, now replaced with something more akin to irritation. “And you think I do?”

You shake your head. “Of course not.”

“These are the cards we’ve been dealt, doll. You’re gonna have to get over it. Let’s just get married and then we can live happily ever after in a big house where we never have to see each other. I’ll do what I want and you can do what you want. Sound like a plan?”

You look down at your hands. A big part of you wants to say that no, it doesn’t sound like a plan. You don’t want that life. You don’t want a house so big that you practically need a golf cart to get from one side to the other. You don’t want a husband who ignores you in favor of his blood money or his side chick or the next shiny toy off the black market. You don’t want James.

Though every part of you is screaming the opposite, you nod. He crosses the room and you inhale sharply to steady yourself as he approaches you with no care. His black dress shoes are tracking dirt across the rug. James holds out a hand to help you up and you take it. The heirloom ring on his right hand digs into yours until you’re standing, and then he drops your hand like it’s on fire.

“We need to go back,” he tells you, and you nod again. “Our parents are pissed.”

“Of course they are,” you mumble. 

James pauses, staring at you critically. You’ve been staring at the baseboards since he helped you up, but when he doesn’t move or speak, you glance upwards at him. He’s got one eyebrow raised. His expression is thoroughly unreadable otherwise and an unsettling feeling blooms in your stomach.

“What?” you ask. You step back a little, but there’s no place to go except up against the bed again.

He shakes his head at you. “Nothing. Come on, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” You scrunch your nose. “Anything but that.”

“Sugar?” he offers, and when you shake your head, he sighs. “Well, what do you want me to call you, since you’re suddenly the one calling the shots?”

His words cut deep and you look back down, hating the way shame immediately pools in your belly. How could he seem angry and irritated with you, then borderline kind, and then completely disinterested in your feelings the next? It’s disorienting, and you don’t need that on top of everything else.

“That’s what I thought. Let’s go.”

Grabbing your arm in a grip just bordering on painful, James pulls you out of your bedroom and back down the hall. He holds on as you stumble behind him in your heels. When you reach the ground floor hallway again, he drops his hand and offers you his arm. You’re hesitant to take it, but he sighs a little and you decide that it’s easier to give in than to put up a fight.

The two of you walk back into the dining room and the conversations immediately hush. James leads you to your waiting seats, pulls out the chair for you, and then helps you scoot towards the table again once you’re seated. As he takes his spot beside you, your father speaks up.

“Have you and James discussed when you’ll be getting married?” he asks.

You pick up your fork and stare at the strange food on your plate, ignoring him. Though your stomach is churning, you force yourself to take a bite. He can’t expect you to answer while you’re chewing—it would be bad manners.

“Next spring,” James answers. “In the rose garden.”

You want to spit on the roses. You swallow your food instead.

“Good choice,” Mr. Barnes agrees. He turns his attention back to your father. “Your daughter is quite the well-behaved woman. She’ll do well with our James.”

Beside you, James tenses again, his grip tightening slightly on his fork. You glance at him, holding your breath, and wait until he relaxes again to take another bite of your food. 

The rest of the dinner passes with mundane, meaningless conversations. Nobody addresses you for the remainder of the meal, not even your parents, and finally the men begin to make their way out of the dining room to an adjoining room. You hadn’t even realized there was a room connected; the door is hidden amongst the paneling and crown molding on the walls.

“You can’t go in there.” James grabs your wrist as you stand to follow the group of men into the new room. His voice isn’t malicious and his grip isn’t tight, but you flinch away from him anyway. It’s only then that you realize the few women that had been in the room are leaving through the door to the hall with their wineglasses in hand.

“Because I’m a woman?” you counter.

“Because you don’t want to hear the things that they’re going to discuss,” he answers. He tosses his napkin on the table and stands, towering over you. After a long second of eye contact, he steps away from you and heads towards the men.

You watch him go and silently weigh your options. A few weeks ago, you wouldn’t have even thought about following the men into the second room. You would have simply taken the same path as the other woman, though your wine would have continued to remain untouched. Now, however, with your wine in hand, you stood at a crossroads. You could go into the room and potentially face the wrath of your father, James, and George Barnes, or you could live forever curious as to what was actually being discussed. 

With your mind made up, you down your wine, step around James, and head through the open door into the room. It’s a study with dark wood paneling on the walls, leather couches, and stale cigar smoke in the air. As soon as you enter, the laughter and conversation stop and all eyes land on you.

“Y/N, you should be with Winnie and your mother,” Mr. Barnes says, stepping towards you. James is behind you now and though you’re hedged in, you simply lift your chin at the older man.

“Why? Am I not allowed to know what family I’m marrying into?”

His face darkens. “Girl, I’m warning you—”

“Don’t speak to my wife like that.” James’ voice from over your shoulder startles you and you quickly turn your head, looking back at him with shock. 

Why is he suddenly standing up for me?

“Hold your tongue, James,” his father snaps. “You aren’t married yet, and Y/N needs to learn her place. One would think her father would have taught her better, considering the problems his wife caused.”

Though you hate your parents for what they’ve done to you, your blood boils at the insult. Your anger rears its ugly head even more when you realize that your father doesn’t look intent on standing up for you or your mom, either.

“That’s enough!”

You swear the room rattles around you when James shouts and you grit your teeth, furious at Mr. Barnes. How dare he insult your father? How dare he talk to you and his son that way?

James grabbing your hand shocks you back into reality. Once again, his grip is almost painfully tight, but you force your face to reveal nothing.

“Y/N and I are going out. If I so much as hear that you’ve said a single thing about her in my absence, you will regret ever giving me any kind of power in this business,” he growls. “The next time you see her, I expect that you’ll treat her with the respect she deserves.” 

The men stare at you and James in disbelief, and then you find yourself being practically dragged out of the room. You’re too stunned to fight back, so you let him pull you across the ground floor of the estate to a door only two down from the dark room where you’d hit the morning your parents had left you behind.

“We’ll have to take the car, unless you’re okay riding the bike in that dress,” James says, pushing open the door. He doesn’t look back at you as he speaks, and it takes you a second to realize he wants a response.

“Car,” you answer after a few seconds. “Please.”

The room James has led you to is a massive garage, stretching farther than you ever realized a similar room could. Three of the walls are made of light gray cement, as are the floor and ceiling, and the fourth wall is made up of windowed garage doors, each one big enough for several cars to drive through simultaneously. Running down the center of the rectangular garage, there is a row of seven parked cars, with enough space to fit at least another car between each one, and beyond that, you can see a row of several motorcycles parked in a similar manner. The cars are in varying shades of gray and black, with the exception of one red sports car at the far end of the group. You can’t see the bikes well enough from the door, but you catch glimpses of blue, silver, gray, and black.

Four enormous, black and silver tool chests are lined up against the wall facing the hoods of the cars, but there isn’t a spot of oil or dirt in sight. You don’t even see any loose tools or equipment. Looking around, you wonder if the tool chests are just there for decoration, or if someone on the estate actually works on the cars and motorcycles.

Maybe James works on them?

“Are all of these yours?” you ask, unable to help yourself. He seems like the kind of guy who would enjoy driving around for fun, and he’s just mentioned something about a bike. You stare at the side of James’ face as he plucks a set of keys off a black pegboard on the wall. There’s a button embedded in the wall beside the board. James pushes it with one thumb and the keys in his hand bump against the wall.

One of the garage doors near the last few cars starts to roll upwards onto the ceiling, revealing the outside of the estate. The sun has completely disappeared from the sky, and the moonlight is blocked by the clouds you’d seen rolling in earlier in the afternoon. The leaves of the large shade trees that surround the estate and form a protective shield from the outside world rustle in the wind. Crickets and cicadas chirp, reminding you of the cool spring nights you’d spent on your family estate as a little girl. You’d run around in the grass near the garden while your mom or your nanny watched you. Sometimes your father’s men would watch from the perimeter of the property, and when you’d wave, they’d wave back, asking what you’d done that day. You always answered them, even if you knew it would get you in trouble. They never stopped asking either, even if it got them in trouble, too.

You stop walking and close your eyes, then breathe in deeply as the night air rushes into the garage. It’s the first time you’ve been even close to the outdoors since arriving at the Barnes Estate. Your skin is still warm from the stifling dining room and the anger you’d felt in the men’s study. The breeze is a blessed relief, even if you do shiver after only a moment. Goosebumps form on your exposed skin—the dress Marta had picked out for you did little to keep you safe from the elements. 

James keeps walking down the aisle formed by the wall and the front of the cars, though you hear his footsteps pause a few moments after you stop following him. 

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You’re a little surprised that he’s not demanding that you catch up. When you open your eyes, you immediately meet his gaze, and a weird feeling bubbles up in your stomach. The expression on his face betrays little, but his stare reminds you of the way your father’s men looked at you all those years ago—interested and almost fond, but ready to push you away at a moment’s notice. You nod and hurry to catch up with him.

Once you get closer, James presses a button on the key fob in his hand. One of the cars in front of the open garage door rumbles to life. The sound it makes is a low purr, almost seductive, and you raise an eyebrow as James approaches, then runs his fingers over the hood. Even if the others aren’t, this car has to be his. It’s a sleek black, with dark tinted windows and a gleaming silver grill in the front. The BMW logo shines proudly in the center. It looks like a car your own father would own. Though you know he’s never owned a BMW, if this car is anything like the ones in your father’s fleet, you know that the inside will be as much a picture of luxury as the outside.

You slide into the passenger seat when James opens the door for you, and in the time it takes him to cross around the front of the car to the driver’s side, you take inventory of the interior. It’s a manual transmission—something your father once said was obsolete, except for car collectors and enthusiasts—which means that you wouldn’t be able to drive it, even if you tried. The car is pristine, so much so that you’re afraid to move. Two water bottles are in the cupholders, and it still smells brand new inside. There isn’t a speck of dirt or dust on the dashboard, nor on the floor mats. The leather seat is soft and there’s a control for seat warming and cooling on the control panel.

James climbs into the driver’s seat and shuts the door. He buckles up and you follow his lead, and then you sit back as he reverses the car out of the garage and onto a winding driveway that leads you around the front of the estate, then along the other side to a large gate with a guard house. You’d forgotten about the extensive security since the last time you’d been outside the Barnes Estate. Your father had handed over your driver’s license, along with his and your mother’s, before breakfast all those weeks ago, and there’d been a strange code word of some kind. It dawns on you as the guard opens the gate for you and James that you’d never gotten your license back.

“Where are we going?” you ask as James pulls onto the main road. It leads away from the estate and into the city. 

“To get some real food,” he replies. His tone is gruff, and it feels like he’s on the verge of an angry outburst, so you slump back in your seat as he shifts gears and the car accelerates. The tension in the car is thick. You don’t want to be the one to deal with it, especially since he’s the one creating it.

After several minutes of watching the enormous mansions and the forests surrounding them pass by, you look over at James again. His expression, just like in the garage, reveals nothing, but you can tell that he’s more put-together than the last time you’d interacted, and it’s not just the tailored suit. His hair has been trimmed and styled, and he has an even dusting of stubble that frames his jawline nicely.

In the time since you’d learned you were engaged, James hasn’t said anything to you. You’ve heard him talking in the hallways as you wandered, but you haven’t wanted to be near him. This is the closest you’ve ever been. Your brief conversations so far tonight make up the majority of the words you’ve spoken to each other. His words from the bedroom echo in your head, until finally, you can’t help but blurt out your thoughts.

“Do you really not want to marry me?” you ask. Your voice sounds small and pathetic, and you hate it, but it’s too late now. 

He glances over at you with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the gear shift. “What do you mean?”

You sit up a little in the seat, though you keep your hands in your lap and you try not to move your feet, just in case there’s dirt on your shoes.

“I mean,” you say, watching him carefully for his reaction, “that when you came to get me upstairs, you said you didn’t want to marry me. Is that really true?”

“I never said that.” He shifts gears again as you near a stoplight, and the car slows. 

“Yes, you did.”

“No,” he shifts again, his teeth now clenched, “I didn’t. I asked if it looked like I wanted to marry you, and you said it didn’t. But I never said I didn’t want to.”

Now you’re confused, and you frown at him, ignoring the obvious irritation in his voice. The car rolls to a stop behind a Ferrari blasting music out the open windows. 

“So you do want to marry me?” you ask. 

He sighs and drops his hand from the gear shift, then looks over at you. “Y/N, I’m not going to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do, so if this is you testing to see how I’ll treat you, then you have nothing to worry about. I’m not a monster.”

“It’s not. I just…” You stop, unsure of how to phrase what you’re feeling. It’s strange to be upset over a marriage you don’t even want, but for some reason, you are. 

“What?”

“If you don’t want to marry me and I don’t want to marry you, then why are we going along with this?” you finally ask, settling for the bigger question than the one that’s truly nagging at you.

“Because we know that if we don’t, life will be hell,” he answers.

It’s the truth. You know it is, and you know it deep down. If the two of you refuse this marriage, your life will be worse than you could possibly imagine, and you’re fairly certain that your fathers will find a way to make it happen anyhow. They’re well-connected in every sphere of life, not just when it comes to drugs and weapons. Your father probably has a priest on his payroll.

The light turns green and James moves the car forward again, merging into the right lane almost immediately. He slows as you approach a valet stand outside an upscale bar you’ve never heard of. It’s not one of your father’s, which means it probably belongs to George Barnes.

Then again, you think as a uniformed man opens your door, maybe it belongs to James.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Barnes,” a valet on the other side of the car greets.

James hands him the keys. “You too, Tommy. Listen, don’t park it too far off. We’re not staying too long.”

The man nods and climbs into the driver’s seat as your own valet leads you away from the curb. James meets you next to the valet stand and offers you his arm, then heads towards the doors.

“What is this place?” you ask as he holds open the door for you.

“My friend’s bar,” James says.

Your stomach twists itself in knots as heavy club music starts to get louder. The bass rumbles in your chest and you dig your nails into his arm as you near a set of glossy black double doors. You haven’t been to a club in a long time. The last time you’d gone, you’d been dragged by a childhood acquaintance, but you’d spent most of the night alone after she’d ditched you for someone she met on the dance floor. You’re not particularly eager to relive that experience tonight, especially with the man you’re being forced to marry. Who’s to say he won’t ditch you for someone else right in front of you, just to rub it in your face? After all, he’d said it himself in the bedroom—you’ll do what you want and he’ll do what he wants. It’s the cards you’ve been dealt.

If these are the cards, then I’ve got a sucky hand.

“James—”

“Bucky.”

You stop and squint at him in the low light of the entrance hallway. The two bouncers in all-black suits stop with their hands on the door handles, ready to open them for you once you start walking again. The music pounds in your ears, so much so that you can feel your eardrums vibrating.

“What?” you ask, not sure you’d heard him correctly.

“Bucky,” repeats James, a little louder this time. “You should call me Bucky, if we’re going to be married.”

“Is that… a nickname?” 

Even in the darkness, you can see him laugh, and a bashful, boyish smile spreads across his face. “My middle name is Buchanan. Steve used to tease me about it when we were kids, and he started calling me Bucky as a joke. It caught on.” He shrugs it off, but there’s a fondness in his voice when he speaks of his childhood friend, and it makes you smile just a little.

You loosen your grip on his arm. “Okay then. Bucky,” you add.

When Bucky steps forward again, the doors are pulled open, revealing a much more casual bar than you could’ve anticipated. Though it’s clean, it looks a little run down, and the heavy music fades into jazz piano as you step through the open doorway and into the large, open space. With almost cathedral-height ceilings, walnut floors and support pillars, and well-worn wooden booths and tables, the bar feels more homier than you’d expected. It’s clearly been well-hidden from the busy crowds of New York. Only a few patrons are scattered around the room, sitting in the booths or at two-top tables, but Bucky leads you to the wood, u-shaped bar that juts out into the room from the back wall. A single man stands behind it, drying glasses with a white bar towel. He smiles when he looks up and sees you approaching.

“Bucky,” he greets, and he reaches over the bar to pull Bucky in for a hug. It’s the first time you see Bucky smile—a real, full, genuine smile—and you watch in silence as he hugs his friend.

“Steve,” Bucky replies. Instantly, your brain starts connecting the dots. This is his childhood friend, the one who gave him his nickname.

“Tá sé go maith tú a fheiceáil.” Steve turns his attention to you, and you quickly look away from Bucky and at him. Your brain whirs as you try to place the language he’s just spoken. It’s not one you’ve heard before, which means none of your father’s men speak it, and neither do any of the Barneses.

“You must be Y/N.”

You nod and offer Steve a small, polite smile. You’re not sure how to act around Bucky’s friends. If they’re also part of the mob, it’s possible they’ll treat you even worse than George Barnes had after dinner, but a new, surprising voice in your head argues that Bucky would never be friends with someone like that.

“It’s okay,” reassures Bucky. He reaches out and touches your arm, gentler than he has all evening. “Steve’s a nice guy, and he knows about our family businesses. You can trust him.”

Steve looks between the two of you before picking up a glass and setting it right-side-up in front of you. “What’ll it be, Y/N?”

You glance at him, then at the wall of liquor behind him. After a moment, you list off a drink that’s not your favorite, but that you know you’ll be able to stomach no matter the circumstances. Steve nods in response before starting to make it.

Silently, Bucky takes one of the chairs at the bar, and you do the same. He sits with his arms folded on the counter. He’s still wearing his suit from dinner. You feel a little out of place in your fancy clothes, and you wonder if he feels the same.

Your drink is placed in front of you a moment later, and after Steve’s silent prompting, you take a sip. It’s delicious, and you can’t help but smile at him.

“Aha, I’ve still got it!” Steve cheers, and you laugh. He grins at you, a charming type of smile that makes your heart flutter in your chest. You feel a little sheepish at the intensity of his joy, and you fidget in your seat, then with your hair.

Beside you, Bucky rolls his eyes and tosses a round paper coaster at his friend. “Knock it off, Rogers,” he huffs. “Stop flirting with my girl. You’ve already got one of your own.”

You glance over when he calls you that, but you don’t say anything. There’s another weird feeling in your gut now. This one, unlike the one you’d had in the car or the fluttering feeling Steve had given you, you recognize immediately—pride. It feels good to have Bucky call you “his girl”, even if you barely know him. It’s strange, and the thought makes you squirm in your seat again. You drop your hand down to the bartop and take another sip of your drink, trying to quell the strange feelings inside of you. 

What is going on with me? Why can’t I just feel normal about all of this? Is there even a normal way to feel about this?

“You hungry?” asks Bucky, and you nod when you realize he’s talking to you again.

“I make a mean twice-baked potato,” Steve says. He plants his hands on the bar to look between the two of you. “Whaddaya say, Y/N? You up for it?”

“Only if you put the jalapeños on the side this time, punk,” Bucky tells him before you can reply. He seems to remember himself a second later, however, because he looks over at you. “Unless, of course, you want them on top.”

You shrug, not wanting to upset anyone, and Steve groans.

“Come on, Y/N,” he says, and he smiles wide as he gestures around the almost-empty bar. “I’ve got all the time in the world to make your food exactly the way you want it. Don’t make me guess.”

“He’s bad at guessing,” Bucky chimes in.

“Terrible,” Steve adds, nodding earnestly.

Tentatively, you list off what you want, and Steve makes a note of everything on a notepad that seems to appear out of nowhere. Once he’s got your order down, he disappears through a door in the back wall. Before it closes, you catch a glimpse of a shining kitchen filled with stainless steel, and you wonder how many patrons come through the bar if Steve has what looks to be a full-sized kitchen in the back.

“You didn’t eat much at dinner, so I figured I’d bring you someplace that actually has good food,” Bucky says. He reaches across the bar to grab a bottle of beer Steve has left out, and he uses one hand to pry the top off. 

You gape at him, too distracted by the blatant show of strength to properly process the very thoughtful thing he’s just said to you. “What?”

“I said that you didn’t eat much at dinner, so I figured—”

“You just pulled the top off like it was nothing. How did you do that?” You look around on Steve’s side of the bar for another bottle, hoping to try your luck. Maybe it’s some new kind of bottle that he’s trying out before it hits the market, or maybe Steve has bootleg beer with a different kind of cap.

Bucky is staring at you, seemingly just as confused as you. “With my arm.”

“With your arm?” you repeat. You’re certain that he’d used his hand to pry it off.

He stares at you for a second longer before the confusion disappears and is replaced with a glint of mischief in his eyes. It makes the shadows on his face melt away a little, and his blue irises seem bright and youthful again, entirely unlike a man who’s seen too much.

“My arm,” he reiterates, and then he pulls off the black glove you’d assumed to be part of his personal style. It’s not just for show, however, because he pulls it off to reveal a black metal hand with dull gold knuckles. Bucky continues, standing and shrugging off his jacket, then rolling up the sleeve of his button-down shirt. As he reveals more and more, you realize that the black metal continues, making up what would be his left arm.

No wonder it hurt when he grabbed me.

“It’s metal,” you dumbly say, and he snorts.

“Observant.”

You shake your head and look from his arm to meet his eyes. “You have a metal arm. How didn’t I know that?”

Bucky shrugs and drapes his jacket over the back of the chair. He leaves the glove on the bar where he’d first set it down. Once he’s seated again, he rolls up his other sleeve to match.

“Beats me. I figured everyone knew. My dad wasn’t subtle when he was bragging about the arm he had made for me when it first happened,” replies Bucky. He takes a sip of his beer, then sighs and sets it back down.

You don’t want to pity him, so you try your best to school your expression by taking a sip of your own drink.

“Was it an accident?” you ask after a minute has passed. He doesn’t reply right away, and you scramble to save the conversation. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen,” he says, and his voice is quieter than before.

You look back down at the drink in front of you. Twisting the glass around and around, you ask, “And it was an accident?”

Bucky takes another swig of his beer. “I was with my dad, working a job. I didn’t even realize I’d been injured until I woke up in the hospital, two weeks later, missing an arm. Apparently, falling shipping containers are heavy.”

You can’t help but curse. What he’s describing sounds horrible, but Bucky only laughs.

“That sounds about right, yeah. I’m lucky I had Steve around to keep me sane,” he tells you. “My friend Sam was a big help too, but he moved down to Louisiana a few years ago.”

“Steve seems like a good friend,” you agree. “They both do.”

You can feel Bucky staring at you now, and you take a sip of your drink while you wait for him to look away again. When he doesn’t, you glance in his direction.

“What?” you ask.

“What?”

“Why are you staring at me?”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are!” you laugh, and you look at him fully this time. Bucky’s grinning, and you ball up a cocktail napkin and toss it at him.

“Okay, I was staring,” he admits, still smiling. “But I can’t help it. You’re pretty, and you’re nice, and you seem smart.”

You feel your cheeks grow warm at the compliment, and you look away. “You don’t have to say that. We’re already engaged.”

“I’m not saying it because we’re engaged. I’m saying it because it’s true.”

You don’t have a chance to reply before Steve comes out with two hot plates. He places them in front of you, joking briefly about giving you the wrong order, and it’s distraction enough that you sit up tall and smile wide. You push Bucky’s compliment out of your head as you chow down, groaning and moaning about the potatoes. They’re exactly what you need after the stressful dinner. Bucky was right—you hadn’t eaten much, and Steve’s cooking is delicious.

Once you’re full, you push your plate away and lean back in your chair. Steve grins at you before he goes back to counting the cash drawer. The other patrons have left already, leaving you, Steve, and Bucky alone in the bar.

“That was amazing,” you tell him for the hundredth time, and Steve chuckles.

“Thank you. I’ll be sure to tell mo bhean chéile—my wife—you said that, considering she still believes potatoes aren’t a meal.”

You notice the wedding band on his left hand as soon as he says it. Above it, also in silver, is a familiar ring. If you weren’t able to see the family crest, you would’ve thought it was the same as Bucky’s, but this ring has an eagle and a star engraved on it, rather than the wolf you’ve seen on Rebecca and Bucky’s rings.

“Potatoes are a meal!” you argue. You can tell that Steve has clocked you looking at his rings because he shifts his hand, instinctively blocking your view as he looks for your own ring. You’d taken your parent’s ring off the day you’d cried in the bathtub and you haven’t worn it since, but no one in Bucky’s family has replaced it with their own. It’s the first time since middle school that you haven’t worn a family ring, and you’d be lying if you said it was a weight off your shoulders. You’d thought it might be, but instead it just makes you feel naked.

Steve laughs and his posture relaxes. He stops hiding his rings from you when he realizes your hands are bare. “Well, whenever you meet her, you can have that argument with her, because I’ve already had it at least a dozen times.” He closes the drawer and fixes his eyes on Bucky, who’s just finishing his food. “Speaking of, when are you two coming over? I promised Peg I’d wait until Y/N had settled in to ask, and you seem settled enough to me.” He glances at you for the last part, and you look down at your empty plate.

“It’s not up to me,” answers Bucky. “We’ll come over whenever Y/N is ready. This is the first time we’ve been together since my dad dropped the bomb on us.”

Steve pauses, his hands on the tablet he’d set down before starting to count the night’s profits. “Wait. Really?”

You nod when he looks at you, suddenly self-conscious again, and you pull your hands into your lap. “I haven’t been the best house guest…”

“You’re not a guest, Y/N. It’s your home now, too,” Bucky interjects.

Reaching over the counter, Steve smacks the side of Bucky’s head. His accent is thick when he huffs, “Íosa Críost, you thick! You didn’t think to go talk to her? To see if she wanted to watch a movie? To see if she needed anything?”

Bucky stammers over in his seat, and you keep your head ducked to hide your smile. Clearly, Steve knows more about being married than Bucky does—most likely from experience, since he’s already mentioned his wife—and he isn’t afraid to tell his friend off for not looking out for your well-being.

“I’m sorry!” exclaims Bucky, ducking another hit. “I wasn’t thinking!”

“Like ifreann you weren’t!” Steve retreats and picks up the tablet with a huff, then looks at you. “Y/N, I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with him. He’s actually a nice guy when he’s not being stupid.”

“Stupid?” Bucky protests beside you.

“I wouldn’t have talked to him even if he’d tried,” you admit, finally looking up, “but it wouldn’t have hurt if he had.”

Steve nods, satisfied with your response. He leaves you a minute later when his phone rings. The wide smile on his face is enough to tell you who’s on the other end, but then he says her name as he walks away, the phone already held to his ear.

“So what’s with this place?” you ask. The quick change in subject is purposeful, and you hope that Bucky will take the bait.

Thankfully, he does. Bucky glances around before finishing off the last of his drink and setting the empty bottle closer to Steve’s side of the bar.

“Well, Steve wanted a place that we—and other people like us—could spend time without feeling like there was always a fight about to happen. We didn’t have that growing up, you know? And now that he’s in charge, he can do what he wants with his money. Everything’s filed properly, he doesn’t advertise, and all employees are paid above the table. If other people show up, then sure, they’re welcomed in, but they’re also fully vetted once Steve gets their IDs. Weapons aren’t allowed, and there’s no shop talk of any kind.”

“So it’s your little hideaway,” you say, propping your head up with one hand. The heaviness of the potatoes combined with the alcohol is starting to make you sleepy, and the emotional exhaustion from the night has started to weigh heavy on you, too.

He smiles a little. “Something like that.”

Bucky stands and rolls his sleeves back down, then pulls on his glove. He pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and sets it on the bar.

“Come on, doll. We should head home,” he says.

The warm feeling you’d felt when Bucky had called you his girl comes back, and you smile a little when he holds open his suit jacket for you. A little sheepish at the gesture, you slide off your seat and let him help you into the sleeves, then take Bucky’s hand when he offers it.

“Bye Steve!” you call, waving with your free hand.

Steve looks up from the other end of the bar, where he’s wiping down a counter with one hand and holding his phone with the other. He lets go of the rag to wave back.

Silently, Bucky leads you out to the front, where the valet already has his car pulled up. You’re not sure how they knew to have it ready, but you don’t dwell on it. Stranger things have happened in your world. Bucky tips the valets with another wad of cash before opening the passenger door and helping you in.

You fall asleep on the drive home. You don’t mean to, but Bucky turns on the radio a few minutes into the drive, and he lets the first station that comes on continue to play. The music is soft, and he drives so smoothly that it lulls you to sleep before you’re even fully out of the city.

When you wake, it’s because Bucky’s stubbed his toe on something, jostling you in his arms. He’s muttering curses under his breath and hobbling down the hallway, and though the jerking motion and his tightening grip isn’t the most comfortable for you at the moment, you keep your eyes closed and force yourself to keep your smile at bay. Bucky is a much sweeter guy than you’d first thought him to be, and it seems like he’s trying now to make up for lost time. You’d misjudged him at first; just like you, he has his own ways of dealing with the life forced on him by his parents, but he really is a gentleman underneath it all.

He carries you to your bedroom and carefully lays you on top of the covers. Then, as gently as possible, you feel him lift your foot and pry off the uncomfortable shoes Marta had picked out for you. Bucky stays totally silent as he takes the shoes off and sets them on the floor at the end of the bed. He pulls a thin blanket over you, one that you’re sure is just for decoration when the bed is made, and presses a kiss to the side of your head. You have to force yourself not to smile when he whispers,

“Goodnight, sleep tight.”

The door clicks shut as he closes it slowly, and you peek open an eye after a few seconds have passed. Your room is dark and empty. Silently, you smile to yourself and crawl under the covers, your eyes heavy. It’s been a long, exhausting evening, and you’re happy to be in bed. You fall asleep to the sound of spring rain on the estate windows and with Bucky’s jacket still wrapped around you.

Over the next few weeks, Bucky slowly enters your life in both big and small ways. He smiles at you over meals in the dining room and late night snacks in the kitchen. He drives you to the city to visit Steve, Peggy, and his other friends, and when he finds out that his father still has your license, Bucky argues with him for over an hour to get it back. Marta delivers your license to your room the very next day, along with a handwritten note that the dark blue Mercedes in the garage is there for your use. Sometimes, you wake up to a bouquet of flowers with another handwritten note. Sometimes it’s a text, and sometimes it’s a gift. Bucky develops a habit of purchasing anything you mention enjoying or even vaguely liking, and you eventually have to tell him to stop because he’s bought you so much that there’s nothing left to buy for yourself.

Bucky turns out to be a closer friend than anyone you’ve ever known. He’s kind, and funny, and intelligent, and he remembers all the little things about you that nobody else does. When you’re sick or feeling lonely, he’s attentive and his presence alone reminds you of all the good things in the world. He makes your days brighter, even the worst ones. You find yourself falling in love with him, much to your surprise. You admit this to him one day. He kisses you then, and he tells you that he’s been in love with you since the first trip you’d taken to Steve’s bar. 

Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas roll around. New Year’s, Valentine’s Day, and Easter come and go. The Barnes’ grand celebrations for every holiday blur together as the months fly by, until eventually, it’s June and you’re standing in your room, staring at your reflection in the full-length mirror.

The wedding dress you’d picked out a few days after Christmas is just as beautiful as you remember it being. It fits you perfectly, thanks to the impeccable work of several tailors employed by Winnifred, and your hair and makeup are flawless as well. There’s no possible way you could’ve imagined how beautiful you look and feel on your wedding day. 

Through the open window, you can hear a string quartet playing outside in the rose garden, where the ceremony is set up. Steve has already come by once to check on you at Bucky’s request, but both men are back downstairs. Bucky’s no doubt at the front of the garden with the priest—the one that you now know for certain is on your father’s payroll—and Steve is waiting with the rest of the wedding party. The only people remaining in your room are Marta, your mother, and Peggy. 

You’ve grown to love Peggy more than any of your childhood friends. She didn’t grow up in the same world as you. She didn’t even grow up in the same country, and you love her all the more for it. She’s rational, cool-headed, and kind, though she’s not afraid to stand up for what’s right. On top of all that, she’s drop-dead gorgeous. It’s easy to see why Steve fell for her during his time in the military.

The quartet finishes the song and moves onto a new one, one that you recognize after only two notes. Your stomach drops and you close your eyes, gripping your bouquet tightly. It’s the song you’d been listening to the morning you’d found out about your engagement. You’d discovered it the night before, and you’d had it on repeat before going to sleep that night, then again that morning as you’d gotten ready. You’d even listened to it in the car on the drive from your parents’ estate.

Who added this to the playlist? Is this some kind of sick joke to them?

The same feeling of dread you’d felt that morning comes back, making your mouth dry and your head spin. You try to take a slow, deep breath to calm your nerves and block out the song, but it doesn’t work.

“Y/N?” Peggy asks.

You inhale sharply at the sound of her voice so close to you. She’d been texting Steve from near the window only moments before. You hadn’t thought that anyone would realize your distress, and you’d hoped to be able to collect yourself before it was noticeable. You hadn’t even sensed her coming closer.

“Y/N, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you tell her, but your voice wavers and your lower lip quivers. You try to take another slow breath.

“What’s going on?” Marta asks. Her hand lands on your arm and you pull away, closing in yourself and pulling the bouquet tight against you.

Your mother’s scolding makes you feel like you’re a little kid again. “Careful, Y/N! You don’t want to ruin those flowers. We don’t have time to make another bouquet for you. George is already hounding your father about how soon after the ceremony you’ll be signing the certificate.”

Anger wells up in you at her thoughtless comment, and you open your eyes. She’s standing behind you in the main part of the bedroom, near the foot of your bed. Any guilt you might’ve felt over ruining the flowers is gone now, and you turn and chuck the bouquet at the carpet by her feet. It bounces once, then lays motionless in a heap of smashed petals and ribbons.

“Enough, Mother!” you shout.

Marta rushes to close the window so the guests in the garden won’t hear your outburst.

Your mother gapes at you, somewhat surprised, but she doesn’t budge. “Y/N, dear. What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” you yell, stepping closer. Your dress swishes as you walk, and you normally enjoy the sound, but you’re too furious to care how pleasing it is. “What are you doing? I am your only daughter! You should be treating me like a princess and worrying about how I’m feeling and what I need, but instead you’re too busy thinking about the damn flowers! I’m sick of you thinking of me like I’m an object you can sell, steal, and trade away whenever it’s most convenient! You and Dad are so obsessed with the timeline you’ve created for yourselves that you don’t even notice how much this has affected me! You didn’t even ask if this is what I wanted!”

She scoffs at you, and any trace of motherly care and concern has disappeared from her expression. Your mother is showing her true face—the mafia wife that has almost as much blood on her own hands as her husband does, if not more.

“It’s too late for that now, isn’t it?” she asks. She picks up her clutch from the end of your bed and steps closer until you're standing eye to eye. Her voice is patronizing and infuriating, and she continues, “It’s your wedding day, dearest, and you can’t back out now. We’ve made sure of it. Even James has agreed to the contract.” 

Your anger wavers. “Contract?”

“Yes, the contract,” she repeats, smirking. Her cards are all on the table now, and she’s got a winning hand. You both know it.

There’s a malicious glint in her eye as she says, “It’s already in effect. It has been since we agreed on the marriage.”

“What contract? What are you talking about?” There’s a sinking feeling in your chest, like your heart has decided to drop into your stomach, then down to your feet and through the floor. Bucky hadn’t said anything to you about a contract, and you trusted him, but you certainly didn’t trust your parents anymore, nor did you trust George and Winnifred Barnes.

Your mother smiles, a sickeningly sweet smile that makes you want to puke. “That’s a conversation for another time. After all, it doesn’t even matter to you until James gets you pregnant.”

The alarm on your phone rings and you close your eyes, your hands trembling. You’d set that alarm to remind you when it was time to leave for the ceremony. Right on cue, the wedding planner knocks on the door to your bedroom.

“Y/N?” she calls, knocking again. “Are you ready?”

Slowly, you squat down and pick up the bouquet. It’s smashed on one side and the petals have fallen off of various flowers, but it’s mostly intact. It shakes as your hands tremble and tears well up in your eyes.

Marta appears in front of you, having pushed your mother out of the way, and over the ringing in your ears, you hear Peggy talking to the wedding planner. Somehow, you make it out to the ground floor of the estate, to the double doors that lead out to the rose garden. You’re dazed by your mother’s strange revelation. The sound of the alarm is still ringing in your ears. Peggy says something to you, but you can only stare straight ahead. 

Your father is next to you then, as Peggy disappears through the doors and joins the rest of the wedding party. You see her glancing back at you, and whispering to the rest of the groomsmen and bridesmaids. Most of them are Bucky’s friends who have now become your own, and all of them look worried. 

“Let’s go, princess,” your father says, and he pulls you forward by the arm.

Numbly, you follow his lead. Not even Bucky’s initially delighted expression shakes you out of your trance, but the way he rubs his thumb over your hands at the end of the aisle pulls you out of it just enough for you to lift your head and look around. You don’t remember walking to him, nor do you remember handing off your bouquet to Peggy, just like you’d practiced last night at the rehearsal.

“Y/N? Darling?” Bucky asks. He crouches and tilts his head slightly to try to catch your eyes. “You okay?”

“I—” Your mouth is still dry and you swallow, your eyes flitting from one place in the garden to another with no rhyme or reason. The world feels like it’s spinning and you clutch Bucky’s hands, unsure of what to do.

“Someone get her a chair,” Bucky orders, raising his voice enough that you flinch. He immediately starts murmuring reassurances to you, and he pulls you into his arms until he can lower you into a seat.

Someone fans you and a cool glass is pressed to your lips. You drink obediently, closing your eyes as the water helps the sandy feeling in your mouth abate just a little. When the water is gone, the glass is pulled away. 

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Bucky asks. 

Slowly, carefully, you nod your head. He sighs in relief and when you open your eyes, he’s kneeling down in front of you. His shoulders are tense and his forehead is creased with worry. You’ve never seen him this stressed over anything and it makes you want to cry.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, heat flaming in your cheeks. You feel horrible. Bucky has been looking forward to the ceremony—he’d told you last night at the rehearsal dinner.

“It’s okay,” he quickly replies. He reaches forward and takes your hands, and you glance away from him to peek at the guests, your parents included, who are still watching you from their seats.

“Are you ready for this, or do you need a break?” 

You look back at Bucky. “A break?”

“She’s fine,” your mother says, and you look over at her from your seat. She’s standing in the front row, her eyes fixated on the priest behind you. “They’re fine, Father. Y/N’s been a bit nervous all morning. Wedding day jitters, you know.”

“I—” You frown at her, still clutching Bucky’s hands. “That’s not what it is.” You look down at him and shake your head. “I’m not nervous to marry you.”

“I’m not nervous either,” he says with a small smile. 

“Then shall we continue?” the priest asks.

You turn to shake your head at him. “No. I’m sorry, Father. I need to talk to Bucky—James—in private for just a minute. Is that alright?”

He smiles gently and nods. “Of course.”

There are more agitated murmurs from the crowd, but you ignore them as Peggy, Steve, and Bucky help you up and back down the aisle. When your mother moves to follow you, she’s blocked by Sam and Clint, another one of Bucky’s friends. She calls after you once, but you ignore her as Peggy helps you onto a bench inside, then leaves, closing the double doors behind herself. She’s handed back your bouquet, and you clutch it with both hands like it’s an anchor in the storm.

“Is everything okay?” Bucky asks. He stands near the door, and you can tell from the way he rolls his shoulders that he’s stressed. His prosthetic always bothers him more when he’s agitated, and you suddenly feel even worse about stopping the ceremony.

“Yes,” you say, but then you shake your head. “No, I’m sorry. Obviously, it’s not, or I wouldn’t have stopped everything. I’m sorry, Bucky, but I have to ask you something.”

“Okay…” There’s a wariness in his eyes, one that you loathe yourself for. You put it there, and you wish with all your might that your mother hadn’t told you what she did. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to do this.

“Did you sign a contract? With our parents?”

He frowns and his whole body grows very still. “A contract?”

You nod. “Yes.” With your hands still fisted tightly around the bouquet, you inhale deeply and add, “A contract about getting me pregnant.”

“What?” Bucky’s furious response is immediate. He shakes his head, his eyes searching your face for any sign that you might be making this up. “Y/N, what are you talking about?”

“Did you sign a contract agreeing to marry me, and agreeing that my parents get something after you get me pregnant?” The words make you sick to your stomach. You haven’t eaten anything all day, which doesn’t help, but the thought of Bucky agreeing to something so vile… It’s enough to make anyone nauseous.

He’s shaking his head at you again. “Why the hell would I sign anything like that? Do you really think I would do that?”

You shrug a little and look down at the bouquet. “My mother…”

“Darling…” Bucky sighs and comes closer, and he kneels down in front of you again, just like he had outside. All the fight and anger has left his voice. “I would never do anything like that. Not in a million years, and especially not to you. I love you.”

“She said you signed it before they’d even told me we were engaged,” you said, quiet now that he’s so close. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, to see what his face might be telling you that his words aren’t.

“Can you look at me? Please?”

Reluctantly, you lift your eyes from the flowers in your lap to meet Bucky’s eyes. They’re just as blue as the ribbons wrapped around the flower stems, a choice you’d specifically made without the wedding planner’s guidance. You’d wanted him to be your “something blue”, even if it felt a little cheesy.

“Do you want to marry me?” Bucky asks.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod. “Yes.”

“Do you believe me when I say I had nothing to do with that contract? That I didn’t know it existed?” he questions.

You nod again, tears forming in your eyes.

“And do you trust me to help you find a way to get rid of it, once all of this is over? Do you trust me to protect you?”

You nod for the third time, and Bucky takes both of your hands in his.

“Okay. Then let’s get married, and I swear to you that as soon as our honeymoon is over, the guys and I will start doing some digging.”

“What about me?” you ask, sniffling. You pull one of your hands away to dab at your eyes before the makeup can get too damaged by your tears.

“What about you?”

“Can I dig, too?”

Bucky chuckles and kisses your knuckles on the hand that he’s holding, and then he pulls himself up off the floor to sit beside you on the bench. He pulls you into a half-hug and you cling to him, sniffling and smiling as he rubs the your back and answers,

“You can do all the digging you want, doll. I’ll even hand you the shovel.”

Tá sé go maith tú a fheiceáil. = It’s good to see you.

Mo bhean chéile = My wife

Íosa Críost = Jesus Christ

Thick = A stupid person

Ifreann = Hell

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging my work so that others can enjoy it too.

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Forever: @aya-fay

Bucky Barnes: @lipstickandvibranium @valhalla-kristin @buckymcbuckbarnes

[dokries]

sunshine

pairing: yoon jeonghan x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 1.1k

warnings: mentions of bruising (reader gets hurt), passing mention of alcohol (no one drinks), a kiss on the forehead, jeonghan gets called a loser lovingly, pet names (babe/baby, sunshine)

author note: this was requested by an anon! thank you so much for requesting once again, and i’m sorry that my work isn’t exactly what you asked for. i still hope you enjoy this though <3 lots of love!!

masterlist

you probably should’ve taken up jeonghan’s offer when he texted you earlier, asking if you wanted to be dropped off before he went to a group dinner with his friends.

of course, you had said no, assuming that it would be the normal amount of traffic when leaving work. to your luck, it turned out the elevators stopped working right before it was time for you to go home and you risked going down the stairwell with everyone else—no one wanted to be stuck in the plain office building any longer, that’s for sure.

however, that also meant that there were some people rushing and elbowing others aside, despite it being…you know, a somewhat steep stairwell that was already crammed with others walking down it. sadly, you were one of the victims of a particularly brutal shover and pushed towards the railing and the cold metal had dug into your body multiple times, which is exactly why your legs ache as you sit down onto the couch slowly.

you take a peek at the back of your forearm and sigh seeing the small red marks leading up to the hem of your shirt sleeve.

you contemplate changing into a shirt with longer sleeves so you don’t worry your boyfriend but decide against it, knowing that he won’t be back for a while; when it’s the whole group of thirteen, they usually stop around one am at the earliest.

you grab an ice pack from the kitchen before stumbling back to the comfortable couch once more with a sigh, turning on the tv to a random channel as you wince at the feeling of the pack touching your tender skin. you keep treating your new bruises gently, with most of your attention on the screen in front of you—it turns out you put on a random reality show and there is drama that’s way too interesting to not watch.

it’s a little after eleven pm when the door unlocks and jeonghan lets himself in, carding a finger through his long hair before he places his motorcycle helmet and keys down, his lip ring glinting in the dimly lit room—he didn’t get to drink anyway since some of the guys had to cancel, and went bowling instead with mingyu and seokmin.

he hums the song that kept playing at the bowling alley as he looks up at you with a mischievous grin. “hey, babe.”

“hey, jeonghan!” you chirp, your voice unusually high as you hurriedly hide the ice pack behind you.

he raises an eyebrow at your cheerfulness this late at night but doesn’t press it, not yet noticing your bruises—that are on full display, even though they are starting to look better—as he goes to hang his leather jacket on the hanger specially designated for it.

your boyfriend turns and walks over to where you’re sitting, placing a small kiss on your forehead as he slumps down on the couch beside you, dangerously close to the biggest bruise you have.

jeonghan smirks at the way the two women on the screen argue with each other. “wow, over a man? he doesn’t even seem to be all that.”

you nod and he smiles, leaning his head against your shoulder as the guy cuts in, taking one woman’s side.

as jeonghan nuzzles his face into your arm, getting bored of what’s on the tv, his lip ring digs into one of the red spots you had gotten earlier and he can feel the way you tense. he frowns at your furrowed brows before looking down at your arm and sighing, his face freezing. “what’s this?”

when you don’t answer, he sighs. “what happened.” he phrases it like a statement instead of a question and you roll your eyes, already knowing he would be like this.

“hannie, nothing happened, i promise,” you say and jeonghan stares at you until you begrudgingly continue. “fine, fine. the elevators stopped working so i went down the stairs when work ended and people kept pushing me off to the side ‘cause they were in a rush. that’s all.”

your boyfriend scoffs, looking out at the window before back at you, his eyes hard. “are you serious? that’s not nothing at all.”

he grabs your hands gently, making sure he doesn’t touch any sore spots and speaks softly. “i’m sorry you had to go through that, baby. next time, i’ll make sure to just pick you up and not ask in case there are jerks like that again. in fact, i’ll be dropping you off and picking you up until the stupid elevators get fixed. i’m not about to take any risks when it comes to you.”

“this really isn’t helping your ‘bad boy’ agenda, you know that, right?” you smile teasingly, squeezing your boyfriend’s hand.

jeonghan looks at you in confusion. “what do you mean by that?”

you smirk. “come on, hannie. you have the whole package: a motorcycle, your leather jackets, the whole package—even your lip ring!” you pause, sighing. “all my coworkers talk about how you seem so brooding and like a lone wolf. it’s like they think you’re the coolest person ever when really, you’re just a loser.”

“hey, i’m not a loser!” jeonghan scoffs before reaching for the ice pack behind you and putting it to the bruises he can see.

“what?” he says when you raise an eyebrow and look down at the pack in his hands. “oh, this? i knew it was behind your back since earlier. you’re not very good at hiding things.”

you roll your eyes before leaning on his shoulder. “see what i mean? loser.”

jeonghan’s eyes soften as he looks at your big grin next to his face and places a kiss on your knuckle. “there’s my sunshine.”

“hey, that’s part of the ‘bad boy’ agenda too!” you chuckle, moving away from him slightly to hit his arm lightly. “besides, i told you not to call me that, it’s so cringey!”

“what, sunshine? i’ll never stop calling you that because it’s true.” your boyfriend sticks his tongue out at you before smirking when you roll your eyes again.

jeonghan then pauses before winking, his head making its way onto your shoulder once more with a content sigh. “either way, i need to make sure i keep up my reputation with your coworkers, am i right?”