#Why Fear Is So Contagious | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

edenesth · 6 months ago

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ATEEZ as Hogwarts Students

Pairing(s): hogwarts student!ateez x hogwarts student!reader

Word Count: 9.8k

A/N: Oh my gosh, thank you all so much for helping me reach 2.3k followers! To celebrate this, I'm back again with another one of these! Once again, special thanks to my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast, for helping me confirm which houses some of the members should be in💘

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Hongjoong ↠ Gryffindor

The Poor Prefect That Nobody Takes Seriously

"I swear to god, if I see another damn chocolate frog loose in the dorm, I'll—" Before Hongjoong could even finish, a cheeky first-year passing by stuck his tongue out at him. "What are you gonna do? Run off to cry to Professor McGonagall again?"

The seventh-year's jaw dropped, his blood pressure spiking, but the kid was gone before he could even scold him. Two years—he'd been a prefect for almost two years now, and still, no one ever took him seriously. Thinking back to his early days as an optimistic prefect, eager to bring order and discipline to his rowdy housemates, he knew now how impossible that dream was.

But was he going to stop trying?

Not a damn chance.

Hongjoong had chosen to become a prefect the very moment he was eligible in his fifth year. Professors had always praised him as reliable, a natural-born leader, and he'd believed that wholeheartedly. He'd pictured himself bringing order to his dormitory, respected by his housemates for his efforts to keep things in line. But the reality? Gryffindors, as he was learning, could be a lot harder to control than he ever expected.

Unfortunately, his "small but mighty" reputation didn't exactly translate into authority. He'd start off with a firm tone, reminding them of the rules, only to watch them twist his words into a rallying cry for their next scheme. His attempts at seriousness somehow only fueled their chaotic Gryffindor spirits, making him seem more like a mascot for daring antics than a figure of discipline.

While the academic staff continued to commend his commitment, his classmates saw him as the "cool" prefect—the one who'd cover for them more often than not, a little too forgiving to actually be feared. Some nights, he'd even find himself dragged into the very pranks he was supposed to be preventing, swept up by the contagious energy of his friends.

Despite everything, Hongjoong couldn't bring himself to truly give up. Every morning, he'd tell himself that today was the day he'd put his foot down, that he'd be the prefect his professors always said he could be. He knew the odds weren't in his favour, but in true Gryffindor fashion, he wasn't about to back down from the challenge.

Today's the day—I can feel it in my bones.

Letting out a determined breath, Hongjoong's gaze fixed on the notice board, now littered with doodles, silly notes, and questionable "decorations." With a purposeful nod, he crossed his arms and cleared his throat, catching the attention of the Gryffindors lounging around the common room. "Forget the frogs then. How many times have I told you all not to vandalise the notice board with your nonsense? It's used solely for—"

"For important announcements. Yes, we get it," piped up a cheeky third-year, eyes glinting with mischief. "But there are no announcements at the moment, so is it really so bad if we, y'know, decorate a little?"

And there it was again—the quick responses that left him speechless every time. Hongjoong tried to keep his expression stern, but a tiny part of him could almost see their point. Was it so bad to have a bit of fun? No, he reminded himself, that's not the point. But as he felt his resolve waver, he knew a miracle wasn't going to happen today. Why couldn't he be both firm and likeable, just like—

"Oh, so you want to test if it's bad?" your voice cut through, sharp but calm, as you stepped down from the spiral staircase. You'd been listening long enough to hear their usual defiance, and you were not about to let them undermine your boyfriend's authority. "How about we invite the professors to take a look at your 'artwork' and see how much they'd appreciate it, hm?"

Like you.

Hongjoong released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, grateful for your support. You, with your knack for balancing authority and approachability, were everything he wished he could be as a prefect. If he could just learn how to be firm, like you, maybe Gryffindor's antics would finally come under control.

"You heard her," he added, finding a bit of confidence again as he nodded in agreement. "Clean it up. Now."

The students exchanged glances, sighing as they reluctantly began peeling off the doodles. He couldn't help but grin a little as he glanced your way.

"Thanks, babe," he mouthed.

You shook your head, smiling as you nodded toward the remaining Gryffindors lounging around. "I'm heading to the Great Hall first. I'll leave it to you to get everyone to breakfast on time, Joong. Think you can handle it?"

Hongjoong nodded enthusiastically, eager to make you proud. "You bet. They're going to see a whole new Prefect Kim this year," he declared confidently.

You laughed, both amused and a bit sceptical. He'd nearly caved to their antics just moments ago, but that was part of his charm. You loved how different he was from you—how he helped you loosen up when you were too serious, just as you helped him stay firm when he got a little too lenient. Together, you two were like yin and yang, balanced and perfectly matched, as everyone in the house always teased.

Squeezing his hand, you gave him a playful smile. "Show 'em, tiger," you winked before turning to leave, catching a glimpse of his cheeks turning pink.

The moment you were out of sight, the common room burst into whistles and smirks around him. Snapping out of his trance, your boyfriend rolled his eyes, trying to keep his composure.

"Alright, folks," he called out, clapping his hands. "You heard my girl. Let's cooperate for once and head to the Great Hall on time—don't make me disappoint her!"

The Gryffindors grinned, shuffling toward the door without a fuss, eager to play along. He smirked, pleased with their obedience whenever you were mentioned. Maybe he'd always need your presence to keep this difficult crowd in line, but he didn't mind at all. He knew they didn't have to fear him for him to be a good prefect. Deep down, he knew they all adored him, and he was pretty sure that, rule-breaking aside, they wouldn't truly make things difficult for him. They just loved teasing him—because, honestly, he might just be their favourite prefect.

Seonghwa ↠ Hufflepuff

The Goody Two Shoes and Teacher's Pet

"Oh, Seonghwa, my boy! What brings you here on a weekend? Shouldn't you be off enjoying Hogsmeade with your girlfriend?" Professor Sprout asked, pleasantly surprised as her star student stepped into the greenhouse, notebook in hand. The seventh-year smiled brightly, giving her a respectful nod before approaching.

"Good afternoon, Professor! I just came by to check on my mandrake—I'm determined to cultivate one to maturity for my latest Restorative Draught. And, uh… my girlfriend, she'll be here to join me soon," he added, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks turning pink at the mention of you.

Professor Sprout's expression softened, a smile touching her lips. "You're too hard working for your own good, both of you," she gently chided, pride swelling as she glanced at the Hufflepuff sigil pinned proudly on his denim jacket. Even on a day when house representation wasn't required, Park Seonghwa wore his Hufflepuff loyalty openly, reminding everyone where his heart belonged. She knew he had a bright future ahead, and if she were to ever consider early retirement, he would be her top choice to take over as the next Herbology professor.

As if on cue, you pushed open the greenhouse doors and stepped inside. "Hwa, are you here already?" you called, glancing around before your eyes landed on your boyfriend and Professor Sprout.

Seonghwa, who'd been focused on his mandrake, looked up at the sound of your voice, a soft smile lighting up his face. In the presence of authority, he resisted the urge to rush over and hug you, his restraint both endearing and unmistakable. You bit back a laugh, amused by his adorable attempt at composure.

"Oh! Good afternoon, Professor!" you greeted, nodding respectfully. "Are we disturbing you? We can come another day if you need the greenhouse for your work."

She smiled warmly, waving off your concern. "Not at all, dearie. I was just on my way out. You two enjoy your little date," she added with a knowing wink. "And if you're in the mood for a treat, there are some extra Every Flavour Beans on the top shelf—please help yourselves."

"Thank you, Professor!" you and Seonghwa chimed in unison, exchanging a look of warmth and shared gratitude. As the elderly woman left, he gently took your hand, pulling you close enough to place a soft kiss on your forehead. You leaned into him with a contented sigh. "How embarrassing—now she's certain we're dating," you murmured, unable to hide your own smile.

He chuckled, his eyes dancing with affection. "Is that such a terrible thing, love? Maybe it's time the whole world knows you're mine."

You gasped in mock scandal, playfully nudging his shoulder. "How improper," you laughed, but a blush crept into your cheeks. Though you'd never formally announced your relationship, it was hardly a secret—everyone must have guessed by now with all the time you spent together. But for the sake of his reputation as the model student, you'd both kept things understated, not feeling the need to broadcast your love. Now, though, there was a new spark in his eyes, a hint of the Slytherin heritage running through his veins, as if he suddenly wanted the world to see what his heart had always known.

Seonghwa, after all, was the first Hufflepuff in a long line of Ravenclaws and Slytherins—a surprise his family hadn't quite anticipated. But their surprise had never bothered him. Instead, it had only strengthened his resolve to prove that Hufflepuff was as noble and worthy as any other house. Consistently at the top of his class in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, he'd gained the admiration of professors for his quiet dedication and high moral standards. Always the first to lend a hand to new students or submit his assignments, he was as dependable as they came.

Yet as much as he wanted to honour his house and his achievements, his heart now longed for something deeper. For the first time, he wanted his family—and everyone else—to see you, the one who had believed in him through every challenge and celebrated every victory, who had loved him exactly as he was. He knew that letting you into his life so openly would be the proudest badge he could ever wear.

"So," he began, biting his lip as he shifted his focus from the mandrake to you, who was busily jotting down notes about its latest growth. "Should we spend some time in Hogsmeade after this?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant, and your eyes widened slightly, your actions faltering as you locked gazes with him.

"You're joking, right? All our friends are there—" you started, but he shook his head, his expression earnest. "I'm serious, love."

The weight of his words sank in, and you realised he wasn't joking at all. A rush of emotions washed over you. "I... I don't know why it took me so long, but I don't want to hide my feelings for you anymore. I want to openly show my affection and be like every other couple in school. It's already our seventh year, and we haven't even been on a proper date. Can we make this the first of many more? Would you like to... go on a date with me?"

Placing your pen down, you blinked, your heart racing at his sincere proposal. This was a big step. Once the truth was out in the open, there would be no turning back—everyone, including his family, would know about you two. But as you looked into his eyes, you felt a rush of warmth. If he was ready for it, then so were you. You knew he would always protect you, no matter what.

With a shy smile, you nodded, feeling butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Thought you'd never ask."

His face broke into a radiant grin, and the world around you seemed to melt away. Seonghwa stepped closer, allowing your head to rest against his shoulder, enveloped in the warmth of his presence like a cosy blanket. "I can't wait," he murmured softly.

"Me too," you replied, a wave of excitement bubbling in your chest.

In that greenhouse, surrounded by vibrant plants and warm sunlight, you both felt the first tender blooms of something beautiful—a love that was finally ready to thrive in the open, with all the joy and light that came with it.

Yunho ↠ Hufflepuff

The Popular Triwizard Champion

"Well? Have you managed to figure out the next task, golden boy?"

Yunho's head snapped around at the sound of your voice, his wide eyes betraying his surprise. Before he could respond, a few stray water droplets from his damp hair splashed onto you, drawing a squeal from your lips.

"Oh no! Angel, I'm so sorry!" he stammered, hastily brushing at your sleeve, his genuine concern making you laugh. He held the golden egg tightly, now safely shut after his latest round of inspections. "But seriously, what are you doing here? You'll be in trouble if anyone finds you sneaking into the prefect's bathroom!"

You snorted, though your heart melted at the way his brows knitted with worry. "Well, I could say the same for you, Yuyu. You're not a prefect either," you quipped with a grin.

He chuckled, the sound echoing in the steamy room as he swam closer to where you sat at the edge of the bath, your legs lazily dangling in the water. Gently, he set the golden egg beside you, then rested his arms on your thighs, gazing up at you with a playful smirk.

"The difference is, I'm a Triwizard Champion," he teased, his grin widening, "and you're not."

Rolling your eyes, you booped his nose with a finger, earning a soft laugh from him. "True, I'm not," you replied, sticking your tongue out cheekily. "But I am your girlfriend, so that grants me a special privilege, doesn't it?"

Yunho's gaze softened as he beamed up at you, water glistening on his face like tiny jewels. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice warm and affectionate. "It definitely does."

With a tender smile, you reached out to brush the water from his face, gently pushing his damp hair back from his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when he instinctively leaned into your touch, his warmth grounding you despite the growing tension in your chest.

"You haven't answered me yet," you reminded him softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Have you figured out the answer to the second task?"

He nodded, his hand lifting to cover yours on his cheek, holding it in place as though it anchored him. He gave your fingers a soft, reassuring squeeze. "I have," he murmured, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity. "But... I don't want you to freak out. Everything's going to be okay, I promise."

Despite his comforting tone, the knot in your stomach tightened. You tried to mask it with a cheeky smile, nudging him lightly with your foot in the water. "Suuure, Yuyu. I totally believe you when you say these tasks will get easier. I mean, it's not like the first one involved dragons or anything."

Your boyfriend sighed, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. You knew he was thinking about the moment his name had been announced as the Hogwarts champion—the wave of fear that had gripped you as the Great Hall erupted in cheers.

He had submitted his name on a whim, more as a joke than anything. He hadn't thought for a second he'd actually be chosen. But of course, you should've known better. He was Jung Yunho—the school's golden boy. Everyone adored him, from his endless optimism to his natural charm. He could light up any room he walked into and never turned away anyone in need. His wild card selection had shocked everyone, but he had embraced it with the same unshakable enthusiasm he brought to everything in life.

For him, the Triwizard Tournament was an adventure, a chance to make memories and new friends. For you, it was a constant worry. You knew the dangers far too well, and it terrified you. Still, when he had emerged victorious after the first task, his joy had been contagious, and you told yourself you had to let your fear go. You couldn't hold him back from greatness. He needed your support, and you were determined to be the girlfriend he deserved.

Leaning forward, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips, hoping it would reassure him as much as it did you. "Alright," you whispered, brushing your thumb along his jaw. "So tell me. What's the second task?"

Before you could pull away, he held onto you, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting his forehead against yours. His voice softened, steady but laced with a vulnerability he rarely showed.

"The Black Lake," he said quietly. "I... I have a feeling I'm going to need you to get through this task."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but the conviction in his eyes made you hold your ground. Whatever this task demanded, you knew one thing for sure: you'd face it together.

And his predictions couldn't have been more accurate—he and the champions from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had an hour to retrieve something that had been stolen from them from the merpeople's village beneath the Black Lake.

The lake was eerily silent, its surface shimmering under the overcast sky as Yunho broke through the water, gasping for air. His strong arms cradled you protectively, his chest rising and falling in rapid bursts. The tension that had gripped him since the start of the task finally began to ease now that you were safe in his embrace.

You coughed violently, expelling the icy water from your lungs, your breaths coming in sharp, shallow bursts. The fragments of what had happened began piecing themselves together in your mind—the haunting stillness of the underwater village, the muffled echo of water all around, and your boyfriend's words from the prefect's bathroom resurfacing with a jarring clarity: "I have a feeling I'm going to need you to get through this task."

He had been right.

The task wasn't just about retrieving an object of value—it was about recovering the most precious thing stolen from them.

For Yunho, that had been you.

"Oh thank god, you're alright," he murmured, his voice thick with relief as he guided you onto the shore. The cheers and applause from the crowd were a distant hum in the background, drowned out by the pounding of his heart. Grabbing a towel, he draped it over your shoulders, enveloping you in its warmth before pulling you close. His arms wrapped around you securely, as though anchoring you back to him and shielding you from the chill that clung to the air.

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, his familiar scent grounding you amidst the chaos of the moment. Despite the lingering cold, a soft smile crept onto your lips. Your voice, though weak, carried an unwavering sincerity. "How could I not be? You'll always save me… my hero."

His grip on you tightened at your words, his heart swelling with emotion as he buried his face in your hair. "Always," he whispered, his voice steady but laced with the weight of his promise. "Now I understand how hard it is for you to worry about me. I promise I'll make it out alive, every time—for you."

The announcement of his second-place finish barely registered. Everything seemed insignificant in the face of what truly mattered. All that filled his mind was the undeniable fact that you were safe, right here in his arms—the one person he cared for most.

Yeosang ↠ Ravenclaw

The Annoying Ace

"Hey, Kang! What'd you get for Potions? There's no way you aced it this time—it was brutal, and you barely studied before the test," a fellow Ravenclaw called out, pulling Yeosang from his thoughts. He glanced up, a small, nonchalant smile gracing his lips as he held up his graded paper. "You're right, it was tough. I only got an A- this time."

The room fell silent. His classmates stared at him, their jaws nearly hitting the floor. Was he serious? Most of the class had barely scraped by, even after endless hours of revision. Seventh-year Potions was no joke, filled with the most complex and challenging formulas known to the wizarding world.

"Only an A-? Are you kidding me? Did you bribe the professor or something?" someone blurted out, their voice tinged with disbelief.

You, seated next to your boyfriend, shot them a sharp glare. "Say that again in front of Professor Slughorn. I dare you," you retorted, crossing your arms.

The student huffed indignantly, muttering under their breath. "Whatever. You probably cheated with Felix Felicis or something."

Before you could unleash another scathing comeback, Yeosang gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his calm demeanour soothing your rising temper. His ever-composed smile didn't waver as he addressed the accusation. "Well," he began, his voice light but laced with quiet confidence, "if we were skilled enough to brew the Liquid Luck flawlessly and effectively, wouldn't that alone prove we deserve our grades?"

The remark landed with perfect precision, leaving everyone speechless. They knew he had a point. Brewing the luck potion wasn't just difficult—it was borderline impossible for most, requiring six months of meticulous preparation and risking catastrophic failure if done even slightly wrong.

The room buzzed with unspoken thoughts. If you and Yeosang could pull off such a feat, would the Potions exam have been challenging for either of you?

Your lips quirked into a satisfied smile as you exchanged a glance with your boyfriend. That was just like him—always shutting down his doubters with quiet brilliance, never needing to raise his voice to prove his worth.

"Man, I really need to learn how to be as effortlessly cool as you," you teased, giving his shoulder a playful nudge as he led you by the hand out of the classroom and toward the courtyard for some fresh air.

He glanced at you, his usual relaxed grin softening into something fonder. "You're already the coolest person to me," he replied casually as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Your cheeks warmed instantly, and you lightly smacked his arm, looking away as you bit your lip to hide the spreading blush. Even now, you could hardly believe he had accepted your confession back then—and that he was now your boyfriend. To you, he had always seemed so distant, so untouchable, like a star out of reach.

That was, until the day he noticed you struggling with a potion after class and offered to help. You hadn't known it at the time, but that small moment of kindness would lead to something far greater.

Yeosang is that Ravenclaw—the one who always seems lost in his thoughts yet somehow aces every test with ease, charming every professor in the process. He's the envy of his classmates, who burn the midnight oil studying while he effortlessly secures perfect scores. His calm, almost ethereal demeanour only adds to the intrigue, making him a bit of a mystery to everyone around him.

No one can figure out how he manages to zone out during Potions lessons and still brew flawless draughts, but they're too in awe (and slightly frustrated) to ask. It's just him—an enigma wrapped in quiet confidence, and somehow, he was yours.

"But seriously, Yeo, have you actually managed to perfect your luck potion? Don't think I didn't notice Professor Slughorn sneaking glances your way. He really did trust you to brew some for him, didn't he?" you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder, fingers gently squeezing his where they were intertwined with yours.

He hummed softly, the sound vibrating against you as he rested his head atop yours. With a flick of his wand, he cast a subtle charm to deflect a stray prank from a group of cheeky Gryffindors playing with products from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The spell stopped the flying object just before it could land anywhere near you. Your heart fluttered at his nonchalant protectiveness, and you couldn't help but notice the envious sighs from a few girls nearby.

"I'll answer that," he murmured, his tone teasing, "when you tell me how you managed to brew such a flawless Amortentia draught."

You blinked, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "The love potion? What are you talking about? I've never even tried to make one."

A small smile tugged at his lips, and he reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Are you sure about that?"

You furrowed your brows, your confusion deepening. "Yes, I'm sure," you replied, your tone laced with scepticism. But before you could press him further, he leaned in and stole a quick kiss, leaving you gasping softly in surprise. Your hand flew to your lips, cheeks aflame as you tried to process what just happened.

Yeosang chuckled at your flustered reaction, his arm slipping securely around your back as he guided you to keep walking. "Then explain how you managed to make me so hopelessly enamoured with you," he said, his voice low but teasing. "It's the only logical explanation for how smitten I am."

"Oh, obviously. That's the only logical explanation," you burst out laughing, playfully trying to push him away, but he held firm, his grip steady yet gentle.

He chuckled along with you, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "Exactly, my love. You've clearly bewitched me, and I have no intention of breaking free."

"The feeling's mutual, my darling genius."

San ↠ Slytherin

The Intimidating Head Boy Who's Secretly a Softie

"Oh, come on, Pumpkin! When will you learn to leave the Monster Book of Monsters alone?!" San groaned in exasperation, his eyes following his mischievous cat as it darted around, narrowly avoiding the snapping Care of Magical Creatures textbook that was now chasing it across the yard. The naughty feline had somehow managed to unclasp the book—again. "Come here, you stubborn little thing!" he called, swooping in to scoop up the cat.

With practised ease, he approached the wild book, stroking its spine gently until it calmed and locked itself shut, just as Hagrid had taught. Of course, San was probably the only one who had actually paid attention to that particular lesson.

A dramatic gasp caught his attention, and he turned to find you standing nearby, a teasing grin plastered across your face.

"Well well, who would've thought? The scary and intimidating Choi San names his cat Pumpkin? And a cat, no less? I always pictured you with an owl or a crow. Guess you're a softie after all. Wait till the rest of the house finds out."

He rolled his eyes but smirked, settling back into his seat behind Hagrid's hut. "Go ahead and tell them, sweetheart. It's not like I asked anyone to see me as the 'mean and cold Slytherin.' If they want to believe that, then that's on them."

You chuckled and took a seat beside him, watching as he cooed at his cat and peppered it with kisses. "So, what's a big bad boy like you doing out here, hm?"

"Detention, obviously," he deadpanned, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Fits my reputation, doesn't it?"

You shook your head knowingly, the corner of your lips curling upward. "If that's what you're calling it, sure. But Hagrid told me you were out here for some extra lessons on Hippogriffs when I passed him earlier."

He feigned a pout, resting his chin on Pumpkin's head. "Damn, you caught me. There goes my big bad boy image. Boohoo."

You burst out laughing, unable to hold it in.

San had always been an enigma to those around him. With his sharp, commanding presence and role as Head Boy, he had a reputation for being unapproachable. First-years practically scrambled out of his way in the corridors. But those who dared get to know him soon discovered that beneath the piercing gaze and confident swagger was a playful, caring soul who adored magical creatures.

And you? You were supposedly his rival—his female counterpart, according to your peers. With your equally composed demeanour and role as Head Girl, it wasn't uncommon for people to pit the two of you against each other. But those who looked closer would've seen the truth: you were far from rivals. If anything, you were two halves of the same warm, hidden flame, especially when it came to each other.

"Well, I hope you don't mind me joining you on your little detention, Choi," you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He hummed thoughtfully, nuzzling his head against yours. "On one condition."

"And what's that?" you glanced up at him.

He bit his lip, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let me take you to Hogsmeade this weekend, Head Girl."

"Alright, alright. None of that in my class," Hagrid's booming voice cut through the moment, startling both of you as you quickly pulled apart, clearing your throats in unison.

San shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck while you tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh.

Hagrid folded his massive arms across his chest, his bushy eyebrows raised knowingly. "We're only doing this if you're both serious, okay? This isn't some fun little date idea."

You nodded earnestly, though the corners of your lips twitched with amusement. "Of course, Professor. We're serious about this."

But Hagrid wasn't done.

Turning his attention to the Head Boy, he added, "But please, do take her to Hogsmeade, lad. I've heard more than enough from you about how much you like her."

San's eyes widened, his cheeks instantly flushing a deep crimson. "H-Hagrid!" he stammered, his voice a pitch higher than usual.

You couldn't hold it in anymore, bursting into laughter as he glared at you half-heartedly. "Oh, you're never living this down," you teased, nudging his arm.

"I—uh—yes, sir," he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he stared down at the ground, clearly flustered.

The professor chuckled, giving a hearty clap to the young man's shoulder that nearly made him stumble. "That's what I like to hear, Choi. Now, back to work, both of you. Those Hippogriffs aren't going to train themselves."

As Hagrid lumbered away, you leaned closer to San, grinning. "So, how much do you like me, Choi San?"

He groaned, his hands covering his face. "Can we just focus on the Hippogriffs?"

"Not a chance," you replied smugly, your laughter ringing out as his ears turned an even brighter shade of red.

The journey back to the common room was filled with quiet comfort, but as you both stepped through the entrance, his demeanour shifted instantly. Gone was the flustered boy from earlier; in his place stood the stoic and commanding Head Boy, his sharp gaze sweeping over the lounging students.

"Keep it down," he said curtly to a group of rowdy second-years, his tone leaving no room for argument. They immediately quieted, murmuring apologies.

You bit back a smile, watching his transformation with newfound amusement. After seeing the playful, gentle side of him during the lesson with Hagrid, this intimidating persona of his now seemed more endearing than imposing. It was his way of keeping the chaos in check, and you couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he switched between the two sides of himself.

As you trailed behind him, snippets of hushed whispers reached your ears.

"Did they come back together?"

"Isn't that the Head Girl?"

"Are they… you know?"

You glanced at San and caught the slight gulp he tried to conceal, his stiff posture giving away his unease despite his poker face.

When you both reached the point where the dorms split, you turned to him, raising an eyebrow. He stood tall, keeping his expression neutral, though you could see the faintest flicker of nervousness in his eyes. The room fell silent, the curious gazes of your housemates fixed on the two of you.

You smirked, breaking the tension. "So, Hogsmeade this weekend, right?"

His eyes widened, and a soft gasp rippled through the common room. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure as he met your gaze. "You… accept?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, though the playful glint in your eyes betrayed your amusement. "Well, you did say I could only join you earlier if I agreed to this. Seeing as we've already finished the lesson, that clearly means I've accepted, no?"

For a moment, his carefully constructed mask faltered, replaced by a grin so wide and boyish that it made your heart skip a beat. He didn't care about the whispers anymore as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to give yours a gentle squeeze.

"It's a date then, Head Girl."

You smiled back, your voice light but teasing as you replied, "Sounds good, Head Boy."

The room erupted into murmurs and low cheers as you turned and walked toward your dorm, feeling his gaze follow you until you disappeared from sight. If San had been worried about his reputation before, it was clear now that he didn't care.

Not when it came to you.

Mingi ↠ Ravenclaw

The Son of a Famous Wizard Scientist

"Going somewhere, Song?"

Mingi cursed under his breath, reluctantly pulling the invisibility cloak off his frame to face you. You sat casually in one of the Ravenclaw common room chairs, a book in hand and an amused smirk playing on your lips. He looked thoroughly defeated. "How do you always figure me out?"

You chuckled, closing your book and setting it aside as you straightened up. "It's not that hard with your lack of stealth. I feel the breeze every time you pass by. Honestly, the real mystery is how Filch hasn't caught you yet."

He crossed his arms with a huff, a pout forming on his lips. "Ugh, what's it gonna take for you to pretend you didn't see me? My dad cannot find out. Name your price."

You tapped your chin, standing to your full height and eyeing the Marauder's Map in his hands. "I want in on whatever you're up to."

His brows shot up in surprise. "You? But aren't you like... the model Ravenclaw? Goody two shoes, follows every rule, reads for fun? Why would you risk your squeaky-clean image for something like this?"

You shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Let's just say I'm curious about what the great wizard scientist's son is always sneaking off to do instead of, I don't know, living up to everyone's—and your father's—expectations."

He sighed in defeat, lifting his left arm to gesture for you to join him under the cloak. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. Just make sure you can keep up. And for Merlin's sake, please tell me your stealth skills are better than mine. You really don't want to run into Mrs. Norris."

"Trust me, I wouldn't dream of it," you replied, ducking under the cloak with him, your heart racing at the prospect of finally joining him on one of his adventures.

And so, that night marked the beginning of an unlikely yet thrilling partnership: you and Song Mingi, partners-in-crime navigating Hogwarts past curfew.

For someone as studious and rule-abiding as you, it was a surprising twist to find yourself sneaking through hidden passageways, clutching an invisibility cloak, and dodging prefects alongside someone like Mingi. But there was something irresistibly intriguing about him—the way he effortlessly balanced his rebellious streak with a sharp intellect, and how his lighthearted demeanour contrasted with the heavy expectations placed upon him.

You see, unlike your ordinary self, his life was all about finding his own path despite the pressures of his family name. As the son of a renowned wizarding scientist, expectations for him to follow in those illustrious footsteps were high. But Mingi? He wasn't interested in being defined by anyone else's legacy.

Sure, he had the smarts for it—his insights into magical theories often surprised you, even when they were thrown in casually during one of your late-night escapades. But instead of shouldering the weight of those expectations, he found joy in simply being himself. He explored magic for the sake of curiosity, not obligation.

Of course, it was hard for someone like him to truly fly under the radar. With his tall frame and infectious laugh, he had a knack for drawing attention no matter how much he tried to avoid it. He'd always play it off with an easy grin, though—effortlessly charming his way out of trouble (well, most of the time).

And now, here you were, walking beside him in the dead of night, laughing softly at his whispered commentary about the portraits on the walls. It was a side of him most people didn't see—carefree, thoughtful, and incredibly warm.

"Alright, where to next, partner?" you asked, barely containing your grin as you reached a fork in the corridor.

He glanced at the map, his finger tracing a path. "A secret stash of sweets hidden near the kitchens. Wanna check it out?"

"Only if you're willing to share," you teased, bumping his shoulder lightly.

He smirked, holding the cloak open as you ducked beneath it again. "Deal. But only because I need you to distract the house elves if we get caught."

With that, the two of you disappeared into the night, laughter echoing softly down the empty hallways. It was the start of a friendship, and perhaps something more that, against all odds, just worked.

On one of the slower days at school, the two of you lounged in the Great Hall, a wizard's chessboard between you. The usual hum of scattered conversations and the clinking of goblets provided a quiet backdrop as Mingi hunched over the board, his tall frame bent in concentration. His eyes darted between pieces, plotting his next move with a focus that made you smirk.

"I've got an idea," you said, leaning back with a teasing grin. "Whoever loses has to take on a dare during tonight's adventure."

His head shot up, a glimmer of intrigue lighting up his eyes. He grinned, his expression a mix of mischief and admiration for the rebellious streak you seemed to save just for him. "Oh, it's on."

The match stretched out with calculated moves and sly counters, both of you pouring focus into claiming victory. But when your queen finally cornered his king, you leaned back with a triumphant grin. "Checkmate," you declared, watching the realisation dawn on his face.

He groaned theatrically, throwing his head back. "Noooo!"

You laughed, folding your arms smugly. "Now, about that dare..."

He straightened in his seat, narrowing his eyes as he tried to guess your plan. "Alright, hit me with your worst."

A mischievous gleam danced in your eyes as you leaned forward and whispered, "Tonight, when we sneak out, you have to charm Moaning Myrtle with your best pickup lines."

His jaw dropped, his ears turning an amusing shade of red. "You want me to flirt with a ghost?!"

"That's the dare," you said, grinning wider.

He blinked at you in disbelief, then let out a booming laugh, shaking his head. "You're insane. But fine—a deal's a deal."

As the two of you packed up, you noticed a flicker of something softer in his gaze. He clearly enjoyed this side of you, the playful daring you didn't often let others see.

The night was quiet as you snuck through the dark hallways, huddled beneath the invisibility cloak. The close proximity made it impossible to ignore the way your shoulders brushed, or how you could feel his breath softly against your ear as he whispered directions. You tried to focus, but the warmth radiating from him and the faint smell of his cologne made it difficult.

He wasn't faring any better. His movements felt unusually cautious, his arm brushing against yours more often than necessary, his voice a little lower than usual when he whispered, "Careful where you step."

Ironically, it was his warning that broke your concentration. Your foot landed on something uneven, and before you could stop yourself, you tripped, sending a potted plant toppling from its perch.

The crash echoed loudly through the corridor. "What was that?!" Filch's voice screeched in the distance, sending panic shooting through you both.

"Move!" Mingi hissed, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the nearest room. The door creaked shut just as the school caretaker's hurried footsteps grew louder.

You realised, to your dismay, that the "room" was a cramped broom cupboard. The two of you were squished together in the small space, the invisibility cloak still draped awkwardly over your heads. Your breathing was ragged from the sudden sprint, and you both struggled to keep quiet as Filch's grumbling grew nearer.

"Stupid kids sneaking around… I'll catch them sooner or later," he muttered as his footsteps faded in the opposite direction.

Only when the sound of his boots disappeared entirely did you dare to speak. "We're safe now," you whispered.

"Yeah," Mingi murmured back, his voice quieter than usual.

That's when you noticed just how close you were. Your heart stuttered as you looked up, your nose grazing his. His dark eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and shallow, mingling with your own. Neither of you moved, the air between you was charged and heavy.

He swallowed hard, his hand slowly brushing against yours beneath the cloak. "I know I lost the game," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "But... is it alright if I flirt with someone else tonight?"

Your breath caught, your thoughts spinning as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing yours.

"That depends on who it is," you whispered back, your voice shaky.

He smiled softly, his eyes flicking between yours and your lips. "You."

Your heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, your hand slid up to grip the collar of his shirt as you murmured, "Fine."

Then, closing the final distance, you pressed your lips to his. When you finally pulled away, the world felt different as you stayed close, foreheads touching. He let out a soft chuckle, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "Best dare I've ever lost."

You smiled. "Guess I'll have to keep challenging you then, Song."

"Guess you will," he whispered, leaning in for another kiss.

Wooyoung ↠ Gryffindor

The Talented Quidditch Beater

"Woo, you got it! That's my boy!"

The sound of your voice rang out across the pitch, instantly catching Wooyoung's attention. A grin lit up his face as he turned mid-flight on his Nimbus 2000, his eyes sparkling as they met yours.

"I'll make you proud, babe!" he called back, his tone brimming with confidence.

"Not if you can't keep your eyes on the game," his teammate—another Beater—shouted, swooping in just in time to deflect a bludger barreling toward him.

His eyes widened at the close call before a sheepish, boyish grin spread across his face. "Thanks, mate. That was a little too close!"

He turned his attention back to you, throwing you a playful wink and blowing a kiss in your direction. "Love you," he mouthed with a quick smirk, clearly revelling in the way your worried gaze softened into a smile.

And then, just like that, he was off again, zooming across the pitch like the fearless champ he was, ready to win not just for his team, but for the person cheering him on from the stands.

Pride swelled in your chest like a warm, unrelenting tide as you watched your boyfriend play. It was almost surreal to think about how far the two of you had come—especially since there was a time when you couldn't stand him.

Back then, Jung Wooyoung was everything you couldn't tolerate: loud, attention-seeking, and constantly wreaking havoc with his pranks. He was the popular Gryffindor Quidditch star with a magnetic grin, always surrounded by friends and admirers. Meanwhile, you were his polar opposite—a shy, studious student with no interest in shenanigans, focused solely on excelling in your studies and making your parents proud.

It all started when one of his pranks nearly ruined your Transfiguration assignment. Furious, you'd confronted him in front of half the common room, calling him reckless and immature. Wooyoung, never one to back down, had retaliated with a smirk, calling you boring and stiff. That marked the beginning of your rivalry—petty remarks, pointed glares, and intentionally getting on each other's nerves became routine.

But everything changed the day he overheard a group of Slytherins mocking you. Their cruel taunts about your Muggle heritage—and the word "Mudblood" slicing through the air—left you reeling. Before you could even muster a response, he stepped in, his usual playful demeanour replaced by something sharp and unyielding.

"What did you just say?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. The bullies faltered under his glare, and though they tried to brush it off, he didn't let them escape unscathed. He stood firm, defending you with a conviction that left you stunned.

From that day on, the dynamic between you shifted. He made it clear that no one was to mess with you—not even his own friends, who had occasionally targeted you with harmless pranks. In return, you stopped berating him for his antics, accepting that his mischief was simply part of who he was. Over time, you found yourself laughing at his jokes, and he discovered a softer side to you that few others had ever seen.

Years passed, and that fragile truce evolved into friendship. Somewhere along the way, the friendship blossomed into something deeper, something neither of you could ignore. And now, here you were, standing in the Gryffindor stands, cheering him on with every fibre of your being.

Only after being with him did you truly understand why so many adored him for his talent. On the pitch, he was in his element. As a Beater, he thrived on adrenaline, his bat swinging with precision as he sent a bludger hurtling toward the opposing team. He was a natural showman, hyping up the crowd with daring plays and cheeky winks. Though his mischievous nature was ever-present, he became fiercely competitive during matches, his focus unshakable when it came to leading his house to victory.

You smiled as he executed a flawless manoeuvre, his laughter echoing across the pitch when the crowd erupted into cheers. He was so different from the boy you had once disliked, yet so quintessentially the same. His charm, his energy, his ability to make everyone around him feel alive—it was impossible not to love him for it.

"Watch this, babe!" he called as he rocketed past the stands, his grin wide and unrestrained. He was a whirlwind of passion and joy, and he was yours. And somehow, you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Aaaand Gryffindor wins!"

The roar of the crowd filled the stadium as the Gryffindor Seeker triumphantly held up the golden snitch, the tiny wings glinting under the bright sun. Cheers echoed through the stands, Gryffindor flags waving wildly in celebration. You cheered, knowing that much of this victory was thanks to your boyfriend, who had spent the game clearing the path for his teammate with skilful swings of his bat.

Amid the chaos, Wooyoung's sharp eyes immediately sought you out. Despite the throng of screaming fans and his own teammates clamouring to celebrate, all he could see was you. Without hesitation, he veered his broom in your direction, ignoring the unmistakable warning glare from Professor McGonagall.

Hovering in front of you, he flashed his signature grin, his chest rising and falling from the adrenaline of the match. Before you could say a word, he leaned in and kissed you, his lips warm and slightly chapped from the cold wind. The crowd's cheers seemed to fade as you felt his smile against your own, your cheeks heating with the realisation of how public this display was.

When you pulled away, your voice was barely above a whisper. "That's enough, Woo. You don't want detention now, do you?"

He laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I wouldn't mind it if you were there too." With a wink, he flew off to join his team, leaving you blinking sheepishly under Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze.

You cleared your throat, attempting to smooth down your robes as you mumbled, "Sorry, Professor."

To your surprise, her expression softened, and she gestured for you to walk with her as the stands began to empty. "Don't be," she said, her voice measured but kind. "You're a good motivator for him. We appreciate it. I won't lie and say our victories haven't increased since you came into the picture."

Her words left you blushing furiously as you followed her down the steps. Did that mean even she shipped you and Wooyoung? The very thought had you hiding a bashful smile behind your scarf, the cheers of the Gryffindor team still ringing in your ears.

Jongho ↠ Slytherin

The Scary Prefect Who Commands Respect

"There he is! Shhh, keep it down!"

Your friends scrambled to settle into their seats, hastily lowering their voices and pretending to focus on the books in front of them. You followed their lead, keeping your head down as the most intimidating prefect of Slytherin entered the library. Choi Jongho's very name was enough to make most students sit up straight, and his imposing presence only amplified that effect. His silence carried more weight than words ever could, commanding obedience and respect effortlessly.

You swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on the text in front of you, but your focus wavered the moment his footsteps stopped—right beside you. Your heart raced as you eyed his polished shoes, unsure if you'd done something wrong. Too nervous to meet his gaze, you froze in place, waiting for whatever came next.

"Here. I think you dropped this," he said, his voice low yet unexpectedly warm.

Your eyes widened at the gentle tone, and you glanced up to see him holding out your late father's pocket watch. The faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips—so fleeting you wondered if you'd imagined it.

"O-oh, thank you," you stammered, taking the cherished item from him. A spark shot through you when your fingers brushed against his, leaving your heart fluttering in a way you hadn't anticipated.

"You're welcome," he replied simply, his voice kind yet measured, before continuing on his patrol.

As you watched him walk away, a realisation settled in your mind—perhaps he wasn't as fearsome as everyone claimed.

Jongho's reputation was well-earned. As a Slytherin prefect, he didn't need to raise his voice to maintain order. A single stern look was enough to make any student think twice about misbehaving, and his word was as final as it was rare. Yet, those who truly knew him understood there was more to him than his intimidating exterior. Beneath the cool, composed demeanour was a steadfast friend with a laugh that could shatter his usual seriousness in an instant.

And soon, you would become one of the few to witness that softer side of him—though, for now, you had no idea what lay ahead.

It was on a particularly eerie evening that you would come to learn the truth. The air hung heavy with an unsettling stillness as you wandered along the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, seeking solitude to clear your mind after a gruelling week. The low-hanging clouds cloaked the forest in shadows, and the quiet seemed almost too oppressive.

But peace was the last thing you found.

A low, menacing growl rippled through the trees, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath caught as you turned, your wand trembling in your hand, to face a pair of glowing eyes cutting through the darkness.

A werewolf.

Your heart pounded wildly as the creature advanced, its snarling lips curling back to reveal rows of sharp teeth. Panic seized you. You tried to cast a spell, but fear made your movements clumsy, and the incantation faltered on your tongue. The werewolf snarled again, its deadly intent unmistakable.

You were sure you were doomed.

Suddenly, a thunderous roar shattered the tense silence, startling both you and the beast. From the shadows emerged a massive bear, its fur bristling and eyes blazing with an otherworldly fury. The bear wasted no time, charging at the werewolf with raw power and unmatched ferocity.

Their clash was brutal and swift, the werewolf no match for the bear's strength and determination. Before long, the defeated creature limped off into the safety of the forest, leaving you frozen in place, trembling from head to toe.

The bear turned its attention to you, its intelligent gaze locking onto yours. Despite your fear, there was something strangely familiar in the way it looked at you—almost protective.

And then, to your utter disbelief, the bear began to shift. Its enormous form shrank, fur receding as its features morphed into something distinctly human. In a matter of moments, you found yourself staring at Choi Jongho, his sharp eyes unwavering as they met yours.

"You…" The word barely escaped your lips, your voice a mere whisper. "You're an animagus?"

His jaw tightened briefly before he nodded. "Yes," he admitted, his tone steady but quiet.

You blinked, your mind racing to process what you had just witnessed. It wasn't just the transformation that left you reeling—it was the way he had risked himself to save you. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" you finally managed.

He let out a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair. For the first time, you saw the stoic facade crack, revealing something raw beneath. "People already think I'm intimidating enough," he said, his voice laced with vulnerability. "If they knew I could turn into a bear, they'd see me as a monster. Even if I chose this form to protect, not harm."

Your chest tightened at his words, at the loneliness he must have carried. His stern demeanour suddenly made sense—it was a shield, a way to keep others from seeing the parts of himself he feared they wouldn't understand.

"But it's not a bad thing," you said softly, taking a step closer. "You became an animagus for a noble reason. That says more about who you are than anything else."

His gaze softened, the hard lines of his face easing just slightly. "I appreciate that," he murmured. "But not everyone would see it the same way. People fear what they don't understand."

For the first time, you saw through the intimidating exterior everyone else feared. Beneath it all, he was just someone who cared deeply, someone who bore the weight of his secrets quietly for the sake of those around him.

"Thank you for saving me," you said earnestly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. "Your secret's safe with me. I promise."

He nodded, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's my pleasure," he replied, his tone warm yet reserved. "Now, you should get back. It's not safe out here."

"And you?"

"I'll make sure the forest is clear," he assured you, his protective instincts shining through. "Go. I'll be right behind you."

As you made your way back to the castle, your mind was consumed with thoughts of Jongho. The boy who had just saved your life was so much more than the fearsome prefect everyone believed him to be. And now, you carried a piece of his truth, a secret that revealed a depth to him you never would have imagined.

From then on, something shifted.

You became one of the few who dared to hold his gaze, the rare recipient of his fleeting smiles. Where others saw the intimidating Slytherin prefect, you saw the quiet strength and vulnerability he kept hidden beneath the surface. And nothing shocked people more than seeing him sit next to you at breakfast in the Great Hall.

Whispers rippled through the tables, curious and incredulous alike. Choi Jongho, the stoic and fearsome prefect, sitting with someone? A girl? The novelty was enough to turn heads, but what truly caught people's attention was the way he looked at you.

There was something unmistakable in his eyes—a quiet affection, soft and unguarded, as if your presence unravelled the walls he so carefully maintained.

He glanced over at you as you finished your meal, his expression relaxed yet tinged with curiosity. "Where are you headed after this?" he asked, his tone casual but attentive.

You wiped your hands with a napkin, smiling up at him. "The Duelling Club."

His eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "The Duelling Club? But why?"

You bit back a laugh at his incredulity, placing your fork down with an amused shake of your head. "Because someone with a very admirable trait has inspired me," you said, your voice warm with sincerity. "To be stronger, to protect those around me too."

The words caught him off guard, and you watched as his usual composure faltered. He blinked, a faint flush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. The sight was endearing, a rare glimpse of boyishness in the otherwise composed prefect.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, reaching for his goblet of pumpkin juice and taking a long sip as if it might steady him. Setting it down, he muttered softly, "You don't have to." His eyes flickered to yours, vulnerable but earnest. "You'll always have me."

Your chest warmed at his words, his quiet promise resonating deeply. He might have been the boy feared by many, but to you, he was simply someone who cared more deeply than he let on.

You leaned forward slightly, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "I know," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "But it doesn't hurt to know how to hold my own, does it?"

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, the corner of his lips curving upward in a rare but genuine smile. "Fair enough," he conceded, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer before turning back to his plate. "But I'm coming with."

Any fellow Potterheads here? Humour this poor author and tell me about your Hogwarts house, your favourite Harry Potter book/movie as well as your favourite character! Most importantly, let me know if you agree with the houses I've sorted the members into!

Hope you enjoyed this! As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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abyssyby · 6 days ago

Text

maybe a dragon

— Lucian wants to be like his papa, which strikes fear into Sylus's heart like no other.

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: lucian & sylus spotlight!!! did i cry when i wrote this? yes, i did. it was just supposed to be a soft banter thing exploring their dynamic but it kinda snowballed into this... now both lucian and kyros (coming up next! out now!) have angsty drabbles. i hope you enjoy this one! ❀-urs

important heads up for context of this story: lucian is (my headcanon) 1/2 of sylus's twin boys. around 4 years in this one! ᡣ𐭩 read lucian's twin's chapter here ᡣ𐭩

sylus & lucian | sylus x reader | angst, fluff, comfort, sylus's son showing him that every part of him is lovable, dad!sylus, mom!reader tw: mentions of past violence/self-harm

Lucian likes it when papa is startled. It’s an emotion he’s extremely gifted in bringing out of him. Not by hiding around corners and going ‘boo!’. No, papa just smirks at that and shakes his head, tells him to try again.

Lucian is especially talented in being in places papa never expects (or never wants) him to be in.

“Lucian!” Sylus barks, rushing over to him who balances himself on the window sill. Peeling fat little cheeks off of the glass and cradling him to safety.

“Lucian.” Sylus warns when Lucian is halfway up the bookshelf. He supervises, but when Lucian loses footing, Sylus is quick to scoop him up and out of the study, drawing him close to his heart and calming his own erratic breathing.

“Lucian?!” Sylus exclaims, rushing down the stairs after his son who passes him, sliding down the banister.

Statues, trees, shelves, counters, tables and chairs— Lucian craves height. A bird’s eye view. Everything would be so much easier for him if tiny dragon wings popped out of his back. Although, that would be another headache for Sylus altogether.

“Papa?” he asks one morning, already hauling himself up his father’s legs. Hair messy from sleep, having followed Sylus out to the balcony. His bare feet had pitter-pattered on the cold tile, and now he longs to be lifted.

Sylus has since shifted his routine to keep up with his family. He doesn’t mind it, not when he spends most of his waking hours being cuddled by his two boys, and his evenings snuggled up against you.

“Yes, angel?” Sylus quirks his elbow out, just enough for the boy to use it as leverage.

“D’you—do you likes going up?”

“Upstairs?” Sylus asks, slightly teasing. He tilts his head to the side to give Lucian his shoulder to grip.

“No, no,” Lucian says. Shifting comfortably, completing his climb now with both legs dangling off of Sylus’s shoulders. He is pointing to the slowly coloring sky, tilting his head down just enough that Sylus can see his eyes. “Up, up-high, papa?”

“Oh,” Sylus nods. He thinks, he does appreciate being out on the balcony, checking in hotel rooms on the top floor, plane rides, looking at the scenery from atop a mountain after hiking it with you. Perhaps he does, although he doesn’t outwardly seek the thrill of it. “I do. But I don’t… look for it. I’m tall.”

Hopeful eyes shine with enthusiasm only children can exude. “Will I be tall?”

Sylus revels at this, singing, “Maybe.”

“Why maybe?”

“Because mama’s small.”

“Mama not small.” Lucian giggles.

“Mama’s a kitty cat. Very tiny.”

“No, mama not!” he giggles again, little bubbles of joy bursting from his chest. Stomach trembling against the back of Sylus’s head, ruffling his father’s hair. Contagious, Sylus grins too, straining to get a glimpse of Lucian’s laughing.

Tiny means Mephisto— and Lucian distinctly recalls looking upwards when asking mama for sweeties.

Sylus reaches up and pinches his cheek. “Who knows? Maybe your whiskers will come in before your wings.”

Lucian flinches, gasping like he’d just been startled by thunder. An excitement rushes through him, and his little fists tug at two spots on Sylus’s head that would’ve been too sharp for such soft hands a lifetime ago. “I’ll get wings?”

It feels like an attack, when it flashes in Sylus’s mind like lighting— the image of his son with wings and scales and the tiniest of horns. Sylus has to take a grounding breath, distress reflecting in how his voice drops into a somber tone.

“Or whiskers.” he tries to play along, to steer him ever so gently elsewhere. To you, back to you. His son will have his face, but he prays for him to have your heart, your soul.

But Lucian has already invaded his vision— bright amber eyes and a happy smile. One Sylus has never seen on a face like his regarding turning into a monster. It makes his stomach churn, his throat tighten, his muscles into stone. Like when he once lived in that cave, unmoving and undisturbed. Like when he was slain for being that very thing Lucian’s eyes shine for now.

What once was something cursed unto his body, bloody and battered by his own hands— his son now craves. His son now wants with unabashed wonder. A gripping, heart-leaping prospect rather than the most horrific of fates.

Sylus takes a deep breath through his nose, reeling it in. He feels his jaw tremble at the exhale, refusing to be dragged into the riptide of his anguish. Not now, he wills himself, not in front of Lucian.

But his child’s desire knows no fences or stone walls, especially when he feels it draws him closer to his father.

“Papa, I want wings.” he says simply. Upside down, kissing his forehead, because mama does it when she’s near papa’s face too.

Sylus flinches slightly at the all-too familiar action, not enough to jostle Lucian, but just so for the boy's voice to lower just that little bit. As if he thought he’d startled a poor deer. Lucian whispers, “Two please?”

Sylus can feel the phantom crystal heart in his chest crack. And he knows for sure that one day, his love for his children will be the cause of its inevitable shatter.

And he thinks this is his punishment for all the grief he’d caused you when you found him that day tending to his crumpled wings and bloodied horns. These things he’d purposefully hidden and tucked away to not horrify you now like he did back in that life, in that cave.

To be faced with a soul that is both yours and his— with his face and your smile— telling him he wants to be just like him. Just like Sylus. And every inch of hate and dread for who he was is sickeningly turned on its head, slapped across his face in the image of his boy. Because how could he hate that of what he loves so dearly?

And yet, maybe this is what you see when you look at him. This is what you marvel at with galaxies in your eyes and tenderness in your touch— his face, with the heart of a dragon. This— in the shape of a little boy— is who he is. One who cares, not abandons. Who feels, not hurts. Who loves, not leaves.

Just like you did, your son cradles his being in tiny hands. Just like you did, his son looks at him with boundless affection. Just like you did, his son caresses his horns, embraces his wings. Just like you do, his son is cleaning his bloodied wounds, whispering words of comfort and telling him— “It’s okay. You’re beautiful, and I love who you are.”

And somehow, that makes the pain bearable. Maybe now, he believes it too.

“Okay.” Sylus says through the lump in his throat. Swallowing thickly sticky sentimental pain to replace with something else. Something better. Something good.

He gently maneuvers his beautiful beastly boy down into his arms into an embrace, burying his nose in his starlight hair and pressing his lips to the space between his brows. “Two then, for my Lucian.”

His Lucian, whose talent lies in startling his papa with how little of him it takes to heal the wounds he’d thought were too deep to reach. Though, he supposes little hands can squeeze through the crevices of his heart just fine.

His Lucian, whose talent also lies in making his papa cry.

In silence, you catch them staring at the dawning of a new day. Two silhouettes of the same shape, talking fondly to one another, against the rising orange hues of the endless sky.

“Will I get big wings?” Asks the little one.

“Maybe.” Says the big one. “Mephisto’s wings are small.”

“Papaa!” Lucian whines and hopelessly buries his face in Sylus’s hair. Just like you do. And, for Sylus, what a delightful thing it is.

✧˚ ⋆｡ next: maybe a turtle (kyros) || read more with the little twins here || more sylus thoughts ✧˚ ⋆｡

thank you for reading!

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my-castles-crumbling · 1 month ago

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trick - @rosekillermicrofic - platonic bartylus and background jegulus - cw: internalized homophobia - word count: 353

Regulus found him tucked away in a corner of the grounds, his entire body shaking, the thin t-shirt and jeans not nearly enough to shelter him from the chilly March winds. “Barty?” he asked softly, approaching his friend and tucking away the Map James had loaned him, thankful for once that the Gryffindors had a penchant for blatantly disregarding school rules.

Barty only grunted.

“Isn’t running off supposed to be my thing?”

It was. Regulus had run off and hid around the castle so many times in his fifth year that Pandora had joked about putting a tracking charm on him. Actually, he wasn’t sure she hadn’t. But now that he’d figured his shit out and run away from home like his brother before him, his reasons for hiding were a lot less innocent but a lot more fun.

“S’my turn,” Barty replied thickly, his words slurring.

Oh. He was drunk.

Regulus sat next to him, just pressing their shoulders together for a while, waiting for him to be ready to talk.

He only had to wait about five minutes.

“Are you lot playing a trick on me? Or…is queerness actually catchy?” Barty mumbled after a while.

Regulus’s first instinct was to laugh, but he fought it down. “Last time I checked, I’m not contagious,” he mumbled. “Why?”

Barty blanched, but after a few deep breaths, he whispered, “Because I can’t stop thinking about him, Reg. Like…how I’m supposed to think about girls.”

Regulus didn’t need to be told who ‘him’ was. He’d seen the way Barty looked at Evan. The way Evan looked back.

He also didn’t need to be told exactly how Barty was feeling. The fear, the self-loathing, the confusion, the yearning. The overwhelming panic of it all.

He placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s fun, isn’t it?” he asked dryly. “Isn’t love just wonderful? I’ve heard it’s the best feeling in the world. Not terrifying at all.”

Barty gave him a slightly-nauseous look. “Oh, s’great,” he replied weakly. “I’m doing perfectly fine.”

They only stared at each other for a few moments before bursting into shaky laughter.

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bookshelf-dust · 10 months ago

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promise to take care of my heart

carmy berzatto x fem!reader

gif by @emziess

word count: 1,830

warnings: nothing? a little swearing, but this is pure fluff and that’s all

synopsis: carmy wants to cuddle with you for the first time.

a/n: hi! new character, i know. but i’ve become rather attached to carm in the past few months and i had a cute idea for him and here we are. he’s bringing me so much comfort right now and now i’m gonna share that with you <333

————

“Why don’t you pick out a movie or somethin,’ bub?”

“If I could find your damn remote, Carm, I would.”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, eyes on his hands where they sit deep in the dishwater below. Good luck, he thinks.

You scan the coffee table, the rug below the shabby couch. It’s not like there’s any use checking the tv stand because it’s still a fucking table tray. You know he doesn’t even own the full set of four table trays? He’s just got the one? That knowledge keeps you up at night. Just like how he doesn’t have a ceiling fan pull and has to get tweezers to change the speed.

You find the remote nestled in a stack of freshly organized books. You helped Carmen assemble a very simple bookshelf so that his stash of cookbooks wouldn’t have to live on the floor anymore.

Just getting to help him turn his apartment into something other than a place to sleep brought you a contagious giddiness. Carmen’s chest aches with how much he’s laughed since he met you.

Look at all my muscles, Carm. I’m practically ready for my dick now, don’t you think?

Where’d you even get these? He’d looked down at the little allen wrench in your hand and said I don’t know, they were just here one day.

Now you have a bookshelf, Bear. What a grown up.

Carmen wouldn’t let you help him with the dishes after he cooked you dinner. He’d just kissed your shoulder and said, “Let me take care of it, alright?” with that little raise of his brows and quirk of his lips telling you not to argue because you’d never win.

And when Carmen tells you to let him take care of something, well…you listen.

You haven’t been dating very long, but it’s been enough that you’ve both developed this rhythm, this way of moving around and with each other and you just…work.

He doesn’t understand how you can dial his shyness, his hesitance, so quickly, how you can make him feel like a human again so easily. But you do.

You settle against the back of the couch, flipping through the tv guide (because Carm has never subscribed to any streaming services) until you find something worth listening to. It’s already a few minutes in, but you’ve seen the movie enough times that it doesn’t really matter.

The overhead light in the kitchen switches off and Carmen pads out to the living room, socked feet dragging on the hardwoods. Your biggest pet peeve is people who don’t pick up their feet, but somehow it’s more tolerable when it’s him.

He sits down on the edge of the couch. Just sits. On the edge. That means he wants to say something. You give him the time to psych himself up.

Carmy chews on his thumb nail and rubs his nose before he turns to you, placing his hand on the couch. His blue eyes burn into yours, and the intensity of his gaze, trained on you, makes you feel like the most important person in the world.

“H-hey, um…can we—could we snuggle, maybe?” He flushes at the fact that he just used the world snuggle. Richie would have his ass so quick if he’d heard him say that.

Your grin is brilliant. You’ve never cuddled properly with Carmen before. Maybe a head on a shoulder or a leg tossed across another, but never a real cuddle session. “Fuck yeah, we can, Carm.” You giggle and the sound softens that bubble of fear in his chest.

He bites the inside of his cheek, letting out the barest laugh.

“How did you want t-to lay, Bear?” You blink at him. “Were you just gonna—”

He starts to nod. “I was just gonna lay on your chest, honestly.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, that works.”

“Y-yeah.”

You snort. “Lemme’ stretch out for you and then you can be a teddy bear.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.” Carmen shakes his head at you. He lets you pull that shit because he likes it. Secretly.

When you have a pillow under your neck and are laid out on your back, Carm slips beside you against the back of the couch and clumsily settles on top of you. He doesn’t want to crush you or anything, so he settles between your legs, only allowing the weight of his torso to envelop you.

One arm wraps around your back, the other cradling your hip, his curls brushing your chin. He turns his head to face the tv and lets out a satisfied sigh.

On instinct your hand threads through his tangled hair, scratching at his scalp gently and sorting through any piece that feels knotted.

“What is this?” Carmy asks, nodding in the direction of the screen.

“The Wedding Planner. It has Jlo and Matthew McConaughey in it.”

“Chick flick?”

You hum in agreeance. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t hate it. Jlo’s character is like you but if the restaurant was a wedding planning business and you were, you know, a chick.”

He laughs lightly against your stomach and you can feel the puff of air over your shirt.

The weight of Carmen’s body on top of yours is easily the most calming feeling you’ve ever experienced. You can’t get enough of him.

“This okay?” you ask, scratching his scalp a little more for emphasis. This is a new way of showing affection. Uncharted territory.

“Hm?” He looks up at you briefly, blue eyes fluttering closed. “Oh yeah, feels nice. I like it.”

You grin and continue to play with his hair. He’s right. It does feel nice. It is.

The next few minutes go by without any conversation, just silence. But it’s so comfortable. Carmen’s tired gaze is on the tv. You can feel him breathing, feel the way he scratches over your back absently. You don’t know if he’s aware he does it, but he nuzzles his nose against the soft of your stomach every now and then like it’s keeping him safe.

“You know I thought about being a wedding planner?”

Carmy pushes up onto his elbows, looking at you with the smallest smirk playing on his lips. “Really?”

You playfully bat at his shoulder and he moves to lay back down, but not before pressing a kiss to your sternum over your shirt. “Mhm. Still think about it sometimes.” You pause, but Carm doesn’t say anything yet because he knows you aren’t finished with that thought.

“I guess I just thought it’d be nice to help put things like that together? The organization would make me feel…complete, I guess. And you know I don’t like to help people in such an extroverted way? I like to be behind the scenes.” You laugh, a little self-deprecatingly. “Does that make sense?”

Carmen squeezes your side. “‘Course it does. And then you could come home and tell me stories about all the family drama you eavesdrop on.”

You giggle, and Carmy loves that he can feel it where he lays on your chest. He can feel your joy, and that’s fucking cool. “That I could.”

He rubs your back in small, gentle circles. “And you know, I happen to have some friends who make pretty good food and would be happy to help if you ever needed.”

“Oh, do you? Well, that’s very helpful, Mr. Berzatto. You’ll have to give me their number.”

Carmy laughs into your chest. A pure, genuine laugh. It’s such a beautiful sound, and you truly think you’d have it tattooed all over your body if that was even remotely possible. His glee makes you laugh, and then you’re both snickering like you’re teenagers doing something that’ll get you in big trouble.

You reach for his hand, the one that’s resting on your hip now, and he lets you lift it towards your face. He bites his cheek, fighting the smile that rises when you press your warm and chapstick covered lips to his knuckles.

“You have such pretty hands, Carmy.”

He pinches your back. “I still don’t get why you’re so fascinated by them.”

“Because they’re pretty. And, look—” You hold yours up to his. “—they’re so much bigger than mine. And I like your tattoos, obviously. I like that I know how talented you are with your hands and how capable. I’m very lucky to hold such capable hands, Bear.”

“Capable, huh?” He gives you a look, one that makes you want to both tackle him and smack him on the arm. Instead you roll your eyes and he raises up to kiss you.

“Capable of being the world’s biggest pain in the ass.”

Carmy laughs. It’s that little chuckle, light and airy and like he can’t believe what he’s hearing but he wants to hear more anyway. He flops back down on your chest, making you let out a rather loud oomph.

You take Carmen’s hand in yours again, rubbing over the dry patches on his knuckles, the scabs on the insides of his fingers, the scar on his palm. His whole life is written in these hands.

You start massaging the pads of his fingers without even thinking about it. No one’s ever been that gentle with him—definitely not with his hands—and a little part of him melts at the feeling.

You kiss the tattoo on the back of his hand and just look at his skin. You’re determined to memorize each line and freckle and fucked up cuticle he’s got.

“At least your nails don’t look like Richie’s, Carm.”

His chest moves with the giggle that travels throughout his body.

“Trust me, they didn’t look like that when he was still with Tiff.”

You grin, your eyes falling back on the television. Maybe Carm would be open to setting it on the bookshelf? That table tray has put in a lot of work. It deserves a break.

Carmen can see why you’re so fond of this movie. It’s one of those that doesn’t require much thought, that has humor and feels more human than most. He knows he shouldn’t think it, but you having said what you said before makes him wonder if you’ll plan your own wedding…with him.

Shut the fuck up, he tells himself. But maybe we’ll get there.

You catch him smiling when they fuck up the statue in the garden and pretend not to notice. You both keep quiet now, but Carm reaches up and puts your hand back on his head.

Your fingers thread through his curls again, scratching at his scalp gently. Your other hand does the same thing to his back. You know it’s going to lull him to sleep.

When you say it, he’s already dozed off. But you are so happy that you get to make him feel safe. That he’s comfortable enough to sleep on you like this. Lucky is an understatement.

“Thank you for letting me in, Bear. I don’t think my life has ever been this beautiful.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

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syluslnd · 6 months ago

Note

Hello! Thank you for your service omg ur single handedly carrying Sylus nation‼️🙏🏼

Can I request a scenario where reader (who isn’t MC) has been a long term situationship of Sylus, like they’re very much in love but refuse to commit because of the dangerous nature of their work in the N109 zone, but reader really hopes they’ll end up together, only for all her hopes to come crashing down when suddenly MC shows up and Sylus becomes really neglectful towards reader, only prioritising MC until one day he doesn’t accompany reader to one onichynus’s deals and it goes horribly wrong with the reader getting hurt/abducted. Angst to fluff pls a happy ending with Sylus coming to his senses 😮‍💨

when you become his second priority

tags-angst with eventual fluff,mentions of violence

The night sky over Onychinus’s sprawling cityscape was studded with stars, casting a subtle glow through the towering high-rises.

Sylus had suggested the two of you head out for a mission, a deal with some Onychinus contacts. As usual, you couldn’t resist tagging along, always thrilled to be close to him in his world.

Sylus, tall and intimidating as ever, glanced down at you with a glimmer of amusement in his red eyes. You could tell he was ready to take control of the situation like he always did, exuding confidence and calm in a way that made you feel safe, even in the darkest parts of his world. He looked over at you, his eyes softening slightly as he murmured, “You ready, kitten?”

“Of course, I’m with you” you replied with a grin, bouncing a little as you slid into the passenger seat of one of his luxurious cars. Your bubbly energy was contagious; he always acted as if he wasn’t affected by it but you’d caught him smirking more than once.

Tonight, he rolled his eyes in mock exasperation but his hand settled on yours, holding it a little too long to be casual.

As he drove through the city, you admired the skyline, sharing random stories about your day and small, happy details about your favorite things.

Sylus listened, nodding occasionally, a slight smirk on his face, though his eyes stayed mostly on the road. At a red light, he finally turned, letting his gaze linger on you. “You know, sweetie, you’d be a lot safer if you didn’t join me on these things” he said, but there was a softness in his voice, a hint of protectiveness beneath his usual hard edge.

You gave a playful pout. “Then who’d keep you company and make you laugh?” you teased, reaching over to ruffle his hair lightly. Sylus gave an exaggerated sigh, though you could see his lips twitch, fighting off a smile.

When you arrived at the Onychinus base, the atmosphere shifted. The bustling headquarters buzzed with energy and you could feel the tension as the meeting began.

Sylus’s demeanor turned serious, his attention sharp and unwavering as he led the deal. You watched him, entranced by his confidence and poise. His eyes, intense and calculating, scanned the room, noting every movement and gesture of those around him. It was moments like these that reminded you why he was so respected—and feared.

The deal itself moved forward without any issues but you stayed close, offering your support however you could. Sylus kept one arm loosely draped around you, like a silent reminder that you were his, his “kitten” in this dangerous world. Every now and then, he’d murmur a soft “Stay close, sweetie” his voice laced with the quiet authority you’d come to adore.

At one point, the meeting wrapped up and you were alone again with Sylus in the hallway leading back to the car. As you walked side-by-side, you took his hand, squeezing it gently and looked up at him with a playful grin. “See? We make a great team.”

Sylus chuckled lowly, his fingers tightening around yours. “Careful, kitten” he murmured, his voice dropping to a tone that sent a shiver down your spine. “I might just start believing that.”

He leaned closer, brushing his lips against your forehead with a rare tenderness that he’d only ever shown to you. Moments like these made you wonder if there was something deeper between you both. But for now, you were happy in this undefined space, enjoying his closeness, his rare softness and the way he let his guard down just enough to show you how much you meant to him.

For tonight, you were his and he was yours in the only way he knew how to be and as you laughed and chatted on the drive back, you couldn’t have known how precious that laughter would soon become.

the next morning the café was small and tucked into a quiet corner of the city, with floor-to-ceiling windows that let in soft morning light and gave the place a warm, cozy glow.

You felt an excited shiver as Sylus guided you in, his hand on your lower back, a gentle but firm presence that never failed to make you feel special. The café wasn’t his usual scene but he seemed relaxed, perhaps indulging your love for quieter, more intimate places.

He glanced around, then met your eyes, his mouth quirking into a smirk. “This place…suits you” he murmured, pulling out a chair for you. “Sweet, but a little chaotic.”

You laughed, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’d say the same about you” you teased, settling into the chair. He rolled his eyes but took the seat opposite you, resting his elbows on the table, leaning in close. His gaze, as usual, felt intense, even as his expression softened.

“You’re in a bratty mood today, aren’t you?” he remarked, voice low and slightly teasing.

“Only because you make it so easy” you replied with a smile, reaching across the table to gently tap his hand. “So, what’s the plan? You’re the one who dragged me out here.”

His smirk grew, and without saying a word, he raised a finger to get the barista’s attention. When she arrived, he placed the most absurd order, one that left you wide-eyed: every single flavor of coffee they had on the menu. You tried to protest, laughing as you looked from him to the poor barista, but he only shrugged, looking unbothered.

“You said you always wanted to try them all” he said, leaning back in his seat, arms folded. “So go ahead. Indulge.”

“Oh my god, Sylus!” You felt a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “You know I was joking about that, right?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t joke about things you want, kitten. Not with me.”

The coffees started arriving, filling up your small table with an assortment of steaming mugs, each one a different shade and aroma. Sylus watched as you eagerly tried each, laughing when you made a face at the overly bitter or strangely flavored ones and taking note of the ones that made you hum with satisfaction. Occasionally, he’d reach out, taking a sip of one of the cups himself, then giving you his quiet, amused approval if he liked it.

After a while, you found yourself leaning across the table, sharing sips from the same cup, your laughter mingling in the cozy warmth of the café. You watched him, noticing the rare moments where his features softened, and his usual guarded expression gave way to something gentler.

“Did you always know you’d be leading Onychinus?” you asked, a little more curious now that you’d settled into the warmth of the moment.

He leaned back, tracing the edge of his cup with one finger, his gaze drifting. “I didn’t know. But it wasn’t like I had a choice.” His eyes found yours again, something dark but honest in them. “The things you don’t choose often become the things you’re best at.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t have a choice” you replied softly. “Otherwise, who’d be here buying me twenty coffees?”

He chuckled, a genuine laugh that you rarely heard. “You’d find some other poor fool, I’m sure” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. But his hand moved to cover yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

Just as you were about to respond, his phone buzzed, and his gaze darkened. He glanced at the screen, and for a split second, his expression changed—hardened into something unreadable. He sat up, pulling his hand away from yours and the warmth that had been between you seemed to evaporate in an instant.

You tried to catch his eye, feeling a flicker of unease. “Everything okay?”

“It’s just an…old friend” he muttered, voice suddenly cool and distant. He stood up, turning his back to you as he answered the call, his voice low and strained in a way you’d never heard before.

You couldn’t make out much of what he was saying, but you heard the shift in his tone—calculated, restrained, almost careful. It was a stark contrast to the teasing, soft-spoken Sylus you’d been with just moments before. He kept glancing out the window, one hand shoved deep in his pocket, the other clutching his phone tightly. His words became hushed, tense, as if he was guarding some important secret.

Your mind raced with questions but you pushed them down, trying to respect his privacy. Still, a pang of worry settled in your chest as he finally ended the call, his posture stiff as he turned back to you. The usual warmth in his eyes was absent, replaced by a distant, almost guarded look.

“Sorry about that” he said, his tone flat, almost dismissive, as he pocketed his phone.

You forced a smile, hoping to ease the sudden tension. “No problem. Everything okay?”

“Nothing to worry about.” He gave a faint smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. He seemed distracted and as much as you wanted to believe him, there was a nagging feeling that something had shifted.

It had been days since you’d last seen Sylus. The texts you’d sent were sparse on replies—short, curt answers that only seemed to grow colder each time. You told yourself he was busy, wrapped up in some new mission for Onychinus but an uneasy feeling had settled deep in your chest. You remembered the way he’d brushed you off in the café after that mysterious phone call, the way he’d shut down, closing himself off as if you were suddenly a stranger.

With the next Onychinus deal approaching, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Usually, Sylus would be the one preparing you, going over every little detail so that you’d be safe. But this time, there had been nothing—no message, no warning, no instructions. The silence weighed on you, suffocating, until finally, you couldn’t bear it anymore.

You found yourself standing outside his office door, hesitating. The hall was eerily quiet, an atmosphere that felt darker than it had ever been. You pushed the door open slowly, your heart pounding with a mixture of hope and dread.

Inside, Sylus stood near his desk, leaning in close to a woman you’d never seen before. She had an aura of quiet confidence, her gaze sharp, as if she were sizing him up even as they talked. Their heads were close together, too close. She said something, her tone low and laced with a teasing edge and Sylus chuckled—a sound that sent a chill down your spine. It was the kind of laugh he used to share with you.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to step forward. “Sylus?” your voice cracked, the warmth you usually brought into his space muted by the weight of everything unsaid.

Sylus straightened, his expression darkening the moment he saw you. The easy humor that had filled his face just seconds before vanished, replaced by a cold, impassive mask. The woman beside him glanced at you, her eyes glinting with a kind of curiosity, as though she were sizing you up, wondering what your place in Sylus’s life could possibly be.

“You’re busy” you managed to say, fighting to keep your tone light. “I just thought—I thought we could talk about the next mission.”

He looked at you for a long, silent moment, his gaze empty of the warmth you’d come to expect, replaced by an iciness that felt almost cruel. “I didn’t ask you to come here” he said, his voice low and cutting.

You took a step back, stunned. “Sylus, I…I just wanted to help. You always said I could be useful—”

“You should learn to know your place” he interrupted, his words sharp enough to cut through your heart. He didn’t look away, didn’t flinch. His gaze was steely, indifferent, as though you were nothing more than an inconvenience, a shadow he hadn’t meant to let linger.

It felt like the floor had fallen out from under you. “My place?” you echoed, trying to keep your voice steady even as it threatened to break. “Sylus, what’s going on? You’ve been distant… I thought we—” You stopped yourself, swallowing back the words, but the damage was done.

Sylus’s gaze flicked to the woman beside him, who watched the exchange with an amused smirk, her arms crossed as if she were enjoying every moment of this. He turned back to you, his eyes devoid of any kindness, any of the softness he’d shown you only days ago. “You thought wrong.”

Your throat tightened and the warmth that had once filled your shared moments now felt like a distant memory, slipping through your fingers. You forced yourself to nod, to keep your head up even as your heart shattered with each second of his cold stare. Without another word, you turned and left, not wanting him to see the tears that threatened to spill over, the silent pain you’d carry alone as you walked away from the one person who’d ever made you feel whole.

The drive home felt like a blur, headlights and streetlights passing in a haze as you wiped away tears that wouldn’t stop. Your hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, as your mind raced with everything that had just happened. It was like you couldn’t make sense of it; every memory of Sylus’s familiar warmth and teasing words felt out of reach, replaced by his cold, indifferent face and that harsh tone. His words, “Know your place” echoed in your head, hitting you harder each time you thought of them. You couldn’t understand. Had you pushed him too far? Had he been pretending all along?

The question lingered, gnawing at you as the car rolled down the empty roads leading home. By the time you reached your place, you were exhausted, the adrenaline replaced by a deep, hollow ache.

The next morning, after another sleepless night, you found yourself staring at his contact on your phone, debating whether to call him. The memory of his sharp tone still stung but the confusion was unbearable. You couldn’t just let things stay like this.

Finally, you pressed call, holding your breath as the phone rang. When he picked up, his voice was casual, almost dismissive, as if the tension from yesterday had never happened.

“Yeah?” he answered, sounding distracted. There was no warmth, but there was none of that anger, either.

“Hey” you managed, your voice wavering slightly. “I… I wanted to talk about yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” he repeated, his tone barely interested. “Is something wrong?”

Your heart sank. He was acting like it hadn’t happened at all, like you were the one imagining things. “I just thought—after what you said, I thought maybe we could… clear things up.”

He let out a long sigh, almost like he was bored. “Look, I have things to take care of. If that’s all, I have to go.”

Your grip tightened around the phone, and you felt a chill run through you as he continued talking, casual, unaffected, as if he hadn’t torn into you less than 24 hours ago. He ended the call with a brief “Take care” leaving you standing there with the silence of the empty line.

It was like a stranger had replaced him overnight and the warmth you’d felt was now a painful memory, drifting further out of reach.

The night of the Onychinus deal was bitterly cold and a dense mist clung to the riverbank, muting every sound but the rush of water. You had been hoping—secretly, quietly—that maybe Sylus would show up, that his absence would somehow break and you’d see him standing there with that familiar smirk, ready to tackle the mission together. But the minutes ticked by and the waiting grew heavier, settling like a weight in your chest until the deal began without him.

but in an instant things went horribly wrong, spiraling out of control faster than you could react. You held on as long as you could, fighting with everything you had, but there were too many of them and you were alone. A sharp, searing pain was the last thing you remembered before everything went black, the sound of rushing water filling your senses as you were tossed into the cold, merciless depths of the river.

When the news reached Sylus, it felt like a blow to the chest, robbing him of breath. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing—the thought of you alone, vulnerable, facing the dangers he’d promised to shield you from. His mind raced, replaying every interaction, every cold word he’d thrown at you and the realization clawed at him with an intensity he hadn’t expected. Guilt twisted in his stomach, a relentless ache, as he thought of the way he’d pushed you aside, how he’d let you walk away, hurt and confused and for what?

He moved quickly, barely registering the world around him as he reached the river, scanning the dark waters until he found you, still and pale, lying half-submerged on the riverbank. His heart pounded, a surge of panic piercing through his usual composure as he dropped to his knees, pulling you into his arms with a desperation he hadn’t felt in years.

“Kitten…” His voice cracked, the endearments he’d so easily tossed at you before now carrying a weight they’d never held before. He brushed damp hair from your face, his hands shaking as he checked for a pulse. Relief flooded him when he felt the faint, steady beat beneath his fingertips, but it did nothing to quell the terror that gnawed at him.

“Why the hell did you go alone?” he whispered, his voice trembling with guilt and grief. “You should have known better than to… God, this is all my fault.” He held you closer, pressing his forehead to yours as if his touch alone could bring you back from the brink. Regret crashed over him like a tidal wave, every moment he’d ignored you, every cold word he’d thrown at you haunting him as he realized just how deeply he’d driven you away.

“I’m so sorry, kitten” he murmured, the words spilling out, raw and unfiltered. “I was stupid. I was a fool. You didn’t deserve any of it.” His fingers brushed over your face, tracing the lines of your features as if committing them to memory and he swore to himself that he’d never let you go again.

#love and deepspace #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you

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earlysunshines · 7 months ago

Text

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

she smiles. 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 asks, her voice a little hesitant.

you nod. "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 agree, trying to sound casual. "i can pick you up if you want?"

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

you pull 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 says, her voice light. "now you have no excuse not to keep in touch."

you laugh, feeling your heart swell. "no excuses," you promise, 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’re dripping wet as you pull 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 change quickly, glad to get out of your damp swimsuit, and run a towel through your hair as best you could. it still dripped slightly when you finally stepped out of the locker room, feeling refreshed but undeniably drained.

and then you see her.

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

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

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

danielle tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, looking a little sheepish. "i’m actually waiting for hyein.." she glances 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 stops at that. she wanted to see you. you feel 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 laughs softly, her eyes crinkling in that way that always made your stomach flip. "you’re cute— and funny."

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

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

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

before you can come up with a response that didn’t sound completely ridiculous, someone calls your name. you turn 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 asks, his voice carrying over the distance.

you blink, glancing back at danielle, and she gives you a small, understanding nod. "you should go," she murmurs 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 softens up, something almost wistful in her eyes. "yeah, can’t wait to get glitter all over my hands again." she says jokingly. she waves 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 turn away, walking towards your friends, but couldn’t resist glancing over your shoulder one last time. danielle still stands there, watching you leave, and when she catches you looking, she flashes another quick grin, eyes crinkling and teeth showing. your heart does a flip against your chest.

wonbin nudges your shoulder when you reach them, smirking knowingly. "danielle marsh?" he questions 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 mutter, shoving him lightly, but you couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at your lips. "we were just talking."

sohee snorts. "right. just talking. sure."

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

they both laugh as you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest. even as you head 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.

#kpop x reader #newjeans x reader #newjeans imagines #danielle newjeans #danielle marsh #danielle x reader #danielle marsh x reader #mo jihye #mo jihye x reader

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newtkive · 1 year ago

Text

practice - carmen berzatto

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader, mentioned platonic marcus x reader

summary: The sudden changes at your work prove to be a lot to keep up with, but Carmy notices your efforts where you think he’s just a tough boss. He proves to be more than that when he finds you pulling an all-nighter at the restaurant.

wordcount: 3.8k

warnings: none really, anxious reader, ooc!carmen (he would never let mistakes fly like this lmao), kinda fluff at the end

a/n: this is basically how i would react working there bc i almost have an anxiety attack every ep watching carmy yell at everyone. sorry for any typos!

The fast moving pace that Carmen Berzatto brought to The Beef was something extraordinary. The skill of his professional chef background was carried over into the small hole in the wall that otherwise would have never changed if it wasn’t for him.

His drive was contagious, even infecting the staff you knew like the back of your hand. You never would have thought your coworkers, ever comfortable with a stagnant pace, would become accustomed to such change around their second home.

It was great to see your favorite people quickly see their own potential thanks to Carmy’s vision. The only problem was you.

You were falling behind, and quickly.

You tried to convince yourself you could keep up as things changed. But your mind was faster than your barely skilled hands and you were terrible at cutting ingredients evenly during a rush and you always somehow got sliced or burnt and your eyes always stung from the onions you were stuck prepping because that was the one job you couldn’t fuck up but hated— to put it simply, you sucked.

The faces of your coworkers reflected what you feared every time you turned around to take a breath, heels of your hands rubbing tears from your eyes as Carmy screamed profanities at the crew. Tina’s eyes would linger on you, brows raised and silently asking if you were okay. You would nod and blink the tears away before jumping back in. By the end of every shift Ebraheim would pat you on the back before leaving, and Sydney would send you a small, sympathetic smile and wave while you tied your shoes on the bench near the locker.

Each time you could see the sympathy in their eyes and it made you hate yourself even more.

You were used to sandwiches; assembling simple ingredients between a hoagie bun on a slow Sunday surrounded by the people you called family. Cracking jokes here and there, no pressure to make things completely perfect, which ended up making things perfect. So much so that regulars even seemed disappointed to see you up at the register some days instead of in the kitchen assembling their lunch.

Carmy wasn’t blind, he could see exactly what was going on, which was why he didn’t pick on you as much as he did when he first arrived.

The first couples of weeks that Carmy was there he noticed the difference in your station compared to everyone else’s. Organized, cohesive, clean—save for the multiple drinks you always had. You worked at your own pace, not slow but definitely not up to par with Carmen’s standards. You made it work though, cutting ingredients almost perfectly and whipping up sandwiches and other specialties not a second too late.

The change happened when Carmy upped the stakes and encouraged—or yelled at—everyone to be as quick as they possibly could. His yelling was off putting, and you didn’t respond well to much other than positive reinforcement.

The chef didn’t notice until the uneven bread and too-thin tomato slices lead back to you. He was quick, marching over to you with a purpose; if it was a cartoon, his hair would be alight with fire. “Chef!” His voice was hard and urgent, because he didn’t have time to deal with this.

As he approached, he noticed your hands shaking as you held the dull shitty knife, head whipping up and cheeks red, all but heaving from the pressure. So much pressure.

“Yes Chef?” You asked attentively, waiting for him to explode.

Carmen had all intentions to do just that, tear you a new one, tell you that you’ve been here long enough to know how to cut a fuckin’ tomato the right way but he paused. The look in your eye was wild and scared. His face fell, obvious turmoil behind his blue eyes causing a change in his decision. You waited with bated breath, but what you were expecting never came.

Instead, Carmen did his best to be calm and set his hand on the counter, leaning a bit. “I want you to show me how to slice that tomato.” He said.

“What?” You were confused and it was clearly written on your face. So were your nosy coworkers who exchanged looks and shrugged, expecting the young man to wail on you with his words.

Looking over your shoulder at the others, you tried to exchange weary looks with anyone but Carmy pulled you back in with his words. “Don’t worry about their shit. C’mon, show me.” He said again, motioning to the tomato sitting on the cutting board, looking at you expectantly.

After a beat of weariness you did what he asked. With an exhale your knife pierced the red skin and cut it, your wrist dragging it back and forth to cut all the way through. You gave a few more slices, doing your best to ignore his scrutinizing gaze.

Reviewing your slices, you mentally pat yourself on the back at the sight of them perfectly even and a fairly thin. You turned to look at Carmy, and he seemed to have an epiphany as he stood there holding his chin. Eyes flickering up to you, he nodded. “You know what that showed me?” He asked, and before you could answer he continued. “You’re competent, you did that shit with a dull knife. Don’t cut ‘em too thick or too thin, you have no excuses.”

He should feel ridiculous, like he was coaching a baby how to do the easiest job in the world, but for some reason Carmen was able to swallow his irritation and try to guide you.

You nodded, back straightening and hands sweaty. “Yes, Chef.”

Carmy was about to walk off but stopped himself, turning back around, eyes boring into yours as he grew more serious. “You hear me yelling, you listen, but I need you to focus, Chef. You can do this shit, I’ve seen you pull through before. Don’t let my mouth get to your fuckin’ head.” He said low enough just for the both of you to hear.

He was close, blue eyes staring right at you, the smell of the kitchen clinging onto his apron. It should’ve been intimidating, and it was a little, but you knew this was his version of offering comfort and maybe even some sort of apology.

“Heard, Chef.” You said just as quietly back.

There was a second of him staring, before he simply walked away without another word, leaving you to your own devices. Whatever he said seemed to put some perspective into your work, because you didn’t have anys setbacks for the rest of the day.

On the way home, sitting on the train with headphones in your ears and a jacket wrapping you up tight, Carmy’s words swirled in your head. You knew you could do this, and you could somewhat see in Carmy’s eyes that he had faith in you too. It was just a new world you were all suddenly thrown into and it was hard finding your place. On days where you felt like a baby fawn standing on shaky legs, wobbling and failing to find your footing, you had to keep going.

A single word rang in your mind.

Practice.

Your apartment was pretty small and shared with a roommate, so you lacked the accommodations and tools to really do all you wanted. Aside from that, you didn’t want to be the rude roomie who clashed pans in the kitchen all night long. So, as you made your way off the train you didn’t leave the station. Instead, you waited for the next ride to the city and headed straight for The Beef.

The sun set as you approached the back door, humming a tune as you pulled out a spare key—one that definitley would be confiscated once Carmy found out about it, probably clambering about it not being safe in the foreseeable future—from under the fuse box outside and unlocked the door.

You entered the kitchen, brows immediately raising as you saw all of the kitchen lights on. Slowly moving forward, a sense of anxiety grew as you knew no one would usually be here except for Carmy, and you really did not want to get a talking to from him right now.

Turning the corner, you sighed in relief when you saw the familiar stature that belong to Marcus. He had his phone out, recipe pulled up in front of him and a song playing softly from the speakers that he sang along to. You chuckled softly, alerting him of your presence. Head snapping up at the sound, he almost looked like a deer in the headlights as he met your eyes.

Similarly to you, he let out a relieved sigh and sent you a smile. “Scared me, Y/N.” He laughed softly, hands whisking again.

“Sorry.” You apologized, tugging your coat off. “What’re you doing here, man?” You asked as you headed over to the lockers and shoved your stuff away.

Marcus shrugged. “Could ask you the same thing.”

“Practice.” You said simply, shrugging and tying your apron around your waist. Approaching the kitchen, you started gathering a few clean pots to start your work.

Humming and nodding, Marcus gave you a knowing grin. “Same here.” There was a beat of comfortable silence as you gathered a knife, cutting board, and an onion before washing your hands. “I actually stay here sometimes overnight. It’s easier, that way I won’t waste time going back and forth from home.” Marcus explained.

Surprise filled your features and you sent him an impressed look. “Wow, no wonder you’re getting better fast.”

He chuckles bashfully, filling another mixing bowl with flour and whatever else he desired. “Eh, I guess.” The shrug of his shoulders made you laugh before you turned back to your own work.

With one last question of Marcus asking if you minded his music, and you affirming that you didn’t mind at all, he turned the dial on his bluetooth radio up and you both fell into a comfortable rhythm; Marcus in his corner and you on the stovetop.

By the end of the evening you prepared a vibrant beef braciole dish that a few of the others had been practicing since Carmy introduced it. You brought it to one of the stainless steel counters with two forks, setting it next to the two pieces of cake Marcus had sliced up from his recipe of the evening.

You both dug in, humming in satisfaction as you tasted each other’s creations, sharing impressed and ‘holy shit’ expressions that made the other laugh.

“This is fantastic.” Marcus said, another mouthful of beef being added to his mouth.

You laughed and shook your head, muttering a thank you, trying to swallow down your surprise. Marcus could tell, because he doubled down. “No, really, Y/N. This is the best one I’ve tasted yet, aside from the big Chef.” He said with a grin.

Shaking your head, you gave him your appreciation. “Thank you, Chef. I can say the same thing from you.” You motioned with your fork to the cake. In truth, his words pushed you and affected you more than you lead on.

The both of you fell into a rhythm, whipping up treats and savory meals almost every day after work. Marcus playing music at his own station, you timing yourself relentlessly to try and replicate the fast pace of the open hours of the restaurant. You sometimes even found yourself staying overnight, taking turns with Marcus to use his sleeping bag—he insisted where you didn't want to overstep, but sleep called you and his pillow was comfy.

Relentless practice proved to keep you on track and up to pace with everyone else, slowly but surely. The impressed glances shared between Tina and Sydney every time you had them taste a dish or were quicker than usual were enough, but Carmen was ever the critic. A new menu soon graced The Beef alongside their regular sandwiches, and it was a tough menu to master. You almost had them all down pat, practicing relentlessly for almost four weeks now after work.

However, every time you presented a steaming spoonful of stew, or a perfect bite of chicken piccata that everyone else in the kitchen seemed to love, Carmen would bite into it, hum, and shake his head. "Good." He said every time.

"Good like.. good good? Or good but start over, it's trash, throw it away?" You would ask, clearly waiting with baited breath on a slow day.

Carmy shook his head again. "It's not ready yet, Chef." And then he would be off to collect more expo receipts and leave you there disappointed, shoulders deflating in defeat.

"I think it's great, Chef." Marcus would smile, hands busy working on dough for his unmastered donuts. You would offer a sad smile in return, marching off to assemble another hoagie and handing your failed dish to a waiting Richie in exchange for an appreciative rub of his hands together. The negative feedback only spurred you to improve your craft as much as you could.

It was a rare occasion that Marcus didn't stay at the restaurant overnight. He left early in a frenzy after a phone call, muttering something about his mom's nurse needing him. Offering comfort wasn't your strongest suit, so you bid him luck and made a mental note to bring him his favorite coffee during work later in hopes to cheer him up.

At the same time you were plating what felt like your dozenth chicken piccata of the week, soft footsteps approached the kitchen. As soon as the timer went off behind you, you whipped around and hit the top, a harsh exhale and wipe of your forehead following the silence. You felt proud, plating and finishing your dish in record time without any hiccups.

A soft chuckle brought you out of your stupor, head snapping up to meet bright blue eyes from across the kitchen. There stood Carmy with his unruly curls, white tee and brown jacket he was beginning to pull off. In place of his usual stoic face was an amused expression, clearly not expecting to see someone in the kitchen at this hour.

You froze at the sight of him, but his soft smile eased your shoulders a bit. “Smells good.” Carmy said as if it was the most casual thing, hanging his jacket by the lapels on a hook. He sat on the bench, beginning to change his shoes into nonslip ones.

Stuttering, your cheeks turned pink. “O-oh, uhhh, thanks.”

“You’re here early.” He said back, standing now and readying to tug on his apron.

Brows furrowed, you looked above him to glance at the kitchen clock. Big red numbers read 6:15 AM and your brows raised in shock. Before you had a chance to respond, he walked closer, beginning to talk again. “I’ve noticed you and Marcus are always here before anyone else.”

You shrugged, nervous smile gracing your lips as they upturned slightly. “Ah, yeah. We both wanted to practice. Y’know, catch up with everyone else.” You explained. Conveniently, you decided to not mention the instances of spending the night, figuring it would be a little to embarrassing or earn you a talking to.

Carmy was now approaching the other side of the counter where you stood, hands tapping the steel. His little smug smile didn’t leave his lips as he nodded. “I also noticed a few things missing from our inventory.” His words were clearly teasing, but they made your face run pale.

“Fuck, I'm sorry, Chef. Take it from my paycheck, please—I didn’t even consider—“ The rambling was embarrassing, and his head shake cut you off.

“No, stop, Y/N. I'm teasing you.” Carmy laughed softly with a small smile, clearly endeared. The use of your name made you bashful.

A beat of silence followed, your mouth opening and closing like a fish. Carmy glanced behind you at the dish that laid perfectly plated, motioning to it with his hands. “Let’s see if your hard work is paying off.”

Blinking in surprise, you obediently nodded and turned to grab the dish. Sliding it in front of him, you gathered a fork and knife. Carmy grasped the utensils with a ‘thank you’, fingers brushing yours. It didn’t take long for the chef to dig in, eyes immediately closing once the first bite hit his taste buds.

“So.. what do you think?” You plucked up the courage to ask after he swallowed.

Carmy looked up at you, lips curling upwards and a proud look dawning his features. “Great, as usual.”

Usually those words would make you excited, but Carmy had a habit of complimenting your dishes before declaring how they weren’t good enough just yet. You simply nodded, swallowing thickly as he took another bite and savored the taste. “What should I change?” You asked, straightening your back in preparation for the inevitable criticism.

Humming, Carmy shook his head, the same amused look as before coming back. “Nothing, Chef. It’s perfect.” He said firmly. Those words made your breath leave your lungs, hands becoming clammy, and before you knew it you were grinning.

“Really?” You asked, not able to keep your excitement together.

Carmy let out a full laugh at that. “Really.” He confirmed.

You clapped your hands together before covering your face, hiding the grin as best you could. It had been awhile since you felt so elated due to cooking, and you weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself. You felt like the whole month of dedicating your time to cooking was culminating to this moment. Carmen watched you with soft eyes, taking in how happy his words made you. You turned back to him, giving up hiding how ecstatic you were. “I braised it differently this time, could you tell? Well, obviously you could if it’s good this time.” You rambled on, a bit of a giggle in your voice.

“It’s always this good, Y/N.” Carmy suddenly said. His words had you pausing, tilting your head playfully. Hand trailing along the counter, he rounded it to stand next to you.

"What do you mean?" You asked, smile falling a bit. The man's words echoed in your head and you looked around the room as if to try and find meaning from his statement. Surely he didn't have you remake the dish for no reason, right? But Carmy's strong posture and raised brows, waiting for you to figure it out yourself, made you think that's exactly what he did. Sobering up, you scoffed and crossed your arms as you sent him a look. "Are you serious? This whole time..." You trailed off.

"Yes, this whole time." He said, leaning on the counter with one hand, eyes not leaving you. "I needed you to bust your ass, Chef. I knew you needed the practice, so I gave you the motive." Carmy explained. The scrunch of your nose made his chest hum with something warm, akin to looking at a kicked puppy that he wanted to scoop up and reassure. Guilt washed over him a little bit as he feared he was acting more and more like his old Chef, but he pushed those feelings down as best he could. He did this for the right reasons, unlike that dickhead in New York did to him. There was no berating and preying on insecurities, just some tough love.

Sighing, you were torn between being angry and feeling grateful that Carmy saw this potential in you. You didn't know what to say, so you blurted out exactly how you felt. "I'm embarrassed."

Carmy frowned, ducking his head to catch your eyes where you looked down a bit. "Why are you embarrassed?" His voice was soft, tiptoeing as to not make you more upset.

Allowing him to meet your eyes, you curled into yourself at the attention. "Because I've made a fool of myself these past few months." You murmured, spilling your guts to your new boss for some reason that you didn't know. Maybe it was the quiet kitchen, or the sudden defeat you felt, but your mouth was faster than your mind.

A small 'no, no, no' left Carmy and he shook his head, reaching a hand out to place on your shoulder. "Don't be. I came in and turned shit upside down, it just took you a bit more practice to get the hang of things." His hand started to rub your arm comfortingly, leaving heat where he touched. You knew this must have been a form of an apology in his own way. The words didn't come easy to Carmen, but he tried to convey it the best he could.

Leaning forward, Carmy mustered his best stern expression, wanting to keep your gaze so you couldn't look away and distract yourself from his next words. Your breath caught in your throat, not used to this proximity. "I'm proud of you. You should be proud of yourself too."

Heat encapsulated your cheeks and you nodded, spurring him to nod as well. "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

As soon as Carmy saw your shy smile he gave one right back to you. Still close, he radiated heat that made it all the more difficult to calm the butterflies growing in your stomach. Eyes never leaving each other's, the air grew tense as the dust settled. Unlike the usual sandwich smell, an aroma of a clean linen scent came off of him as you realized he must have showered before coming here. Carmy never would admit it, but your perfume filled the air for him, making him linger longer than he should have. The blink of your stare looking up at him made Carmy's chest tighten, and he immediately pulled himself out of whatever trance he was in.

Clearing his throat, Carmy let go of your shoulder and backed up a bit. "No more all-nighter's here. Okay, Chef?" He tried to seem playful to rid himself of awkwardness and whatever that just was.

Mouth falling open, you gaped at him. "How did you know?!"

Hands up in surrender, Carmy just shrugged. "A Chef never tells his secrets," He began, heading over to the drying rack to busy himself, playfully adding, "And someone kept leaving the spare key out, so I figured." The smirk he sent you made you grin and roll your eyes.

Carmy would never tell you he knew because that's what he used to do. Before he got the hang of things in his earlier days as a chef, late nights in the restaurant kitchen and a half hour of sleep was the norm for him. As you began cleaning up your work the chef's gaze lingered on you, blue eyes studying your form with a thoughtful look. Carmy shook his head, smiling to himself and starting his work. He reckoned he saw himself in you more than ever.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear #the bear imagine #carmy berzatto imagine #x reader #carmen berzatto imagine

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raven-dor · 22 days ago

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bucky barnes is concerned for you - drabble #2

my allergies are really bad right now and it got me thinking about how a certain super soldier would take care of you when you're sickly... so enjoy!! sickness, you and bucky aren't officially dating (sort of a flirtation if you will), slight angst ig, fluff ending (assume bucky can't get sick) this is for my sickly people!!word count: 1,006

"Achoo!"

You groaned, wiping your nose and laying back in your bed, staring at the ceiling. God, this was a fate worse than death. Worse than any villain you'd fought.

Allergies mixed with a common cold were not for the faint of heart.

You were an Avenger; you should be able to deal with it.

You'd tried to push through, to continue with your daily routine, but Steve took one look at you and said you were 'out of commission for the week.' Whatever the hell that meant.

You'd frowned at the Captain's orders; your sparring partner was supposed to be Bucky that day. Sam had teased you, saying that Bucky would still be around waiting like a puppy when you got better. You'd flipped him off, storming off to your bedroom.

Things were comfortable between you and the super soldier. Neither of you had admitted your feelings, but they were there, a constant through it all. You knew he liked you, and he knew you liked him, and right now, that was all you needed.

Bucky hadn't seen you in days, and that was the way you'd like to keep it. He'd seen you bloody and injured, but this was a new level of vulnerability, one that you weren't sure he would want to witness.

The universe had other plans, it would seem.

"Doll?" His voice was doubtful, knocking on your door to ensure you were there. "You in there?"

"Go away!" You grumbled, covering your face with your hands. "Come back in two to three business days."

"You're freaking me out, baby." He sounded concerned. In any other situation, you would have considered this sweet, endearing even. Right now, you just wanted to lay in the dark in complete silence. "Let me in."

"No way." You laughed, triggering another coughing fit. "Trust me on this one, Bucky."

"I don't think I can do that." You were sure he was frowning, his eyes dark with worry. "C'mon, Doll. It's me."

You felt anxious. That's it: anxious, nervous, pathetic in a way. You wanted to keep this flawless image in his head, one that he could enjoy, not find repulsive. "I know."

"I won't think less of you or anything like that. Promise."

"You might." You whispered, fear overtaking logic.

"Try me." You cursed his super hearing, allowing Friday to unlock the door. His towering frame was virtually glowing in the hallway lighting, your cheeks burning as he shut the door. He crossed his arms, frowning. "What's going on with you, Doll?"

"Don't come any closer." You whispered, pulling the covers over your mouth. "I could be contagious."

He sat down beside you, scoffing. "I haven't gotten sick since 1944."

"What if this is the one that gets you?" You joked, actually, when you thought about it, what if that happened? "We can't risk that."

"Doll." He sighed. "You're worrying me."

You lowered the covers from your face, eyes watery as you observed Bucky take in your appearance. "I-" He stood up, and you watched in horror as he walked into your bathroom, turning on the faucet. "What are you doing?" You cringed at your own voice, nasally and sharp.

"Getting a washcloth." He turned the faucet off, walking back toward you. "Hold still."

You wished you were brave enough to say that he hadn't needed to say that, that he made you inherently still, afraid to make the wrong move.

"Okay."

He was gentle as he raised a hand, wiping the hair out of your face. "There you are." Your eyes widened, and he laughed, cleaning off your face with the warm cloth. "Can you tell me what's going on?"

You sighed, staring at the ceiling, his gaze suddenly too much. "Allergies. And a cold."

He frowned. "That sounds rough." He sat the washcloth on your nightstand. "Wanna tell me why you didn't want me to come in?"

Your eyes welled. "I- I didn't want you to see me like this, okay?"

He tilted his head. "You didn't want me to see you sick?"

When he said it like that, you felt silly, guilty even. Nodding, you sat up, fingers grazing over his. "I didn't want you to see me and- and lose interest." He laughed, actually laughed at you. You scoffed, glaring at him. "I don't know what's so funny about that."

He held your hand in his, kissing the back of it gently. "I love taking care of you. You know that, right?"

You nodded, thinking back to the many times Bucky had patched you up after a mission, the many times you'd patched him up. About how gentle he'd been, how comforting. You sighed. "But this is different."

"How?" He raised an eyebrow. "Because the way I see it, my mission is to take care of you, to comfort you, to-" His cheeks flushed, and you smiled, squeezing his hand. "Just let me take care of you, yeah?"

"Promise you won't get sick?" You whispered. "I don't want Steve yelling at me."

"Steve would never yell at you." He laughed. "But yes, I promise."

"Ugh." You leaned your head against the headboard. "Can you just- stop being so perfect?"

His laugh rang through the air again. "No can do."

You bit your lip, trying to hide your growing smile. You gestured toward the space beside you, smoothing out the sheets. "Care to watch some Criminal Minds?"

He grinned, settling in beside you. "I'm gonna order your favorite. For later." Pulling you into his side, you found comfort in his hold, laying your head on his chest as the TV came to life. "Crab rangoons and everything."

"Get an extra order of crab rangoons." You muttered, eyes drooping. "I know how much you like them."

He smiled, kissing your temple softly. "Get some rest, Doll. I'll be here when you wake up. Promise."

Your eyes finally shut, one last thought echoing through your mind as your exhaustion finally got the best of you. "I hope you know how much I like you, Bucky."

#literature #fanfiction #x reader #fluff #angst #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #the winter soldier #the white wolf #tfatws #steve rogers #captain america #sam wilson #marvel x reader #🪩! fics

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hanniescookie · 2 months ago

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too many hobbies - YJH

pairing - jeonghan x f!reader

genre - domestic au, fluff

warnings - use of pet names (baby for reader, hannie for jh), kissing, pure fluff, mentions of mild insecurities, and uhm yeah that's it ig

summary - everyone around you seems to be soaring, traveling and building perfect lives while you're surrounded by the love of your many hobbies that leaves you feeling a little confused at times. luckily, jeonghan is there to not let you feel insecure.

author's note - second fic and i'm sooo nervous even though i've been writing for 7 years already 😭 anyway, this is for the bbangi to my shingi @kissbyoon / baby you deserve all the love 🤍 i'm ltr sharing jeonghan w you so like gimme some love 😔☝🏻

-------------------------**~~**--------------------------

You slump tiredly into your couch for the first time in a while, closing your eyes as the setting sun reflects on your face from the large window. It's not everyday that your energy goes down, but inevitably, there are days like today when you want to isolate yourself from the world just a little bit.

The living room of your apartment is still messy with all the stuff — papers, scissors, crayons, and stationary of all sort — that you were using to make your boyfriend a gift card.

Your eyes scan all the stuff, and most importantly, the pretty purple and white gift card you completed before leaving for the dance studio. It looks meaningless now, not even slightly pretty to your eyes.

All you can think about is how your dance colleagues talked about their life plans a while ago – how their words sent you in a spiral of uncertainty about your own life.

"You all, please pray I pass the audition. Not for another second am I going to waste my time here!"

"You will! Trust yourself. I thought I was going nowhere until I got my job."

"But I have come to terms with the fact that dancing here won't get me anywhere, I'm probably gonna make use of my degree and apply at the law firm."

"Well of course, I just can't sit with my hobby for a lifetime. I'm pushing my age already, so I'm hoping for my promotion."

It isn't like you to ponder over words, but this conversation did make you feel overwhelmed. Maybe you are being sensitive, but seeing everyone else talk about their sorted life makes this mess in your living room a lot suffocating than it is.

You reach out, holding the gift card in your hands and staring at it for a while. It speaks ugly words to you — pointing fingers at you and calling you a loser.

Your fingers involuntarily curl into it, almost about to rip it apart when a pretty voice breaks your reverie.

"Oh my baby!!! Did you make that for me? Show me!"

Jeonghan appears beside you out of nowhere, making you blink at him in surprise as the card is nearly snatched from your hand. The awe on his face makes your heart soften. He reads the card — all silly little messages you had scribbled in there — his contagious smile broadening on his face.

Before you can say anything, he has wrapped you in his arms, squishing you into his large frame. "Why are you soooo sweet? What if I cry?"

You end up smiling against his chest, wrapping your arms around him with a sigh. He has managed to wash away any negative emotions you were facing a while ago so easily. "We all know you're not gonna cry that easily, hannie."

He pulls away just enough to meet your eyes, a constant smile plastered on his lips. "I appreciate that you know me well, but I fear you're not entirely aware of how much I love these little things you do."

Something in your chest flutters as your smile dims slightly, staring at this loveable man and his comforting existence. He didn't even need to give you a whole speech about how it's good that you're on your own pace, and you're doing great in life (he can provide you with words of affirmation if needed) yet you're already feeling like none of people's words matter. Because you're reminded of the fact that you're indeed exactly where you're meant to be, and you'll be where you're meant to be in the future too.

You press a feather-light kiss to his nose, "What little things?"

He grins, returning the gesture with a more firm kiss than yours. "These little gifts you make me. But that's not all I love about you, you know? I love all that you do. Your dance, your impromptu shower singing, those stories you write in your laptop — I love all of it. Never quit on any of your hobbies. They make you, you."

It isn't like you to cry easily as well, but when you feel the sight of your pretty boyfriend blurring a little, you know you have tears in your eyes. He furrows his brows, instant concern spreading all over his features.

His hand cups your cheek softly. "Baby? What's wrong? Did I say something wrong?"

You sniff, and close your eyes for a second so the tear residing there falls past your cheek. Then you shake your head. "Never." You breathe. "You can never say anything wrong, hannie. In fact, you only ever say everything right. Everything to make me feel special."

He doesn't seem convinced given that he still doesn't smile. He just continues to look at you, trying to detect signs of distress. "Baby—"

You giggle a little, moving to wrap your arms around his neck. "Don't worry. I just got a little emotional because of what you said. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

You nod, feeling his thumb wipe at the lone tear that had fallen before he finally breaks into his signature teasing grin. "Who's the one easily crying now?"

You roll your eyes despite the smile on your face, "Stop being so cocky."

"You love it." He grins, kissing you briefly because he couldn't resist it. You hum, and chase his lips the moment he pulls away. He wants to tease, but right now he's going to give you what you want so he smiles and kisses you back.

If it's with Jeonghan and his gravitational comfort, you know you'll get everywhere you want to be in life.

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godjo · 9 months ago

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✮ — ptolemaea.

you poor thing sweet, mourning lamb there’s nothing you can do it’s already been done

tags — wriothesley x afab!reader. 4k wc. yandere. noncon. non-explicit smut with allusions to oral sex (both receiving), rough sex, creampie, doggy style. minors, blank, and ageless blogs dni.

from hunter — this is a repost. i listened religiously to ethel cain’s ptolemaea while writing this piece. ✮

“step onto the platform, please.”

your stomach churns; what little you consumed that day threatens to spill from your mouth. there’s a continuous eddy in your mind, the headache affecting the strength of your bones.

would you ever be prepared to face this kind of dilemma?

you have been given no chance to contemplate before the security in charge pushes the small of your back. you stagger towards the middle of the platform that will bring you down several feet underwater. as it starts to descend, you inhale whatever amount of fresh air you can, dreading that it’d probably take time before you could see the outside again.

it’s just for a few months. all you have to do is endure your sentence, and you’ll be free.

the air slowly turns scant the deeper you descend, as though you’re being submerged even in the absence of water. it doesn’t help that all you’ve seen so far is an endless stretch of metal, closing in on you, augmenting your anxiety. after what seems like forever, the elevator halts, hinting at your arrival, and there you struggle not to marvel at the magnificent view of the water outside.

however, the security standing by your side tugs at your arm. another wave of nausea fills your throat with acid as the receptionist registers your information and recites the crime you’ve committed. sealing your fate as a prisoner is a quick mugshot before you’re brought to the administrative area.

your wild eyes scan the area, noticing other newcomers lining up horizontally before a huge metallic door. they are stricken with the same anxiety as you, evident in how their throats are bobbing, their eyes burning holes in the ground.

“stand up straight. the duke is here,” the security announces as the gigantic door creaks open.

“he’s here; we’re going to die,” the man beside you whispers in hysterics.

his apprehension is a contagious disease, crawling to stick onto your skin, corrupting what little courage remains in your spine.

your breath becomes strained and like everybody else, you’ve done your best to make your presence smaller. what is it about the duke that triggers this kind of paranoia?

“ah, here are the flock of lambs,” a strong voice dripping in confidence pronounces, causing the rest of the prisoners to shrink in size, as though all they’ve wanted is to disappear. “should i say ‘welcome’? or you’d rather we skip the pleasantries and go straight to business?”

looking at him now, you understand why the mere mention of his name evokes such palpable horror. he’s a man of tall stature and rough demeanor. his hair, unkempt yet strangely glossy, adds to the unnatural charm he possesses. it’s dark like a raven’s feathers, interspersed with strands of gray that somehow enhance his roguish appearance.

he starts his scrutiny at the other end of the line, saving you for last. as he scans the prisoners, his mouth remains in a tight line, with an occasional cock of the brow or twitch of the lips.

“and for the last one…” his tone tilts between authority and mischief, leaving no room for defiance.

your heart hammers against your ribs, but fear holds your gaze down. mentally cursing yourself for potentially igniting the duke’s ire, you flinch when his warm fingers swiftly lift your chin.

you suck in a sharp breath, expecting to be greeted by annoyance. what’s painted on his face is an expression you cannot quite name. his pale gray eyes are blown wide, penetrating you straight to the soul. lips slightly agape, he displays an image of someone utterly surprised. it hasn’t taken long for colors to flood his face again, delivered by his conscious recognition of the prisoners’ gawking stares.

the duke clears his throat, summoning back his menacing aura. he motions for the nearest securities, instructing that they discuss the rules and send the prisoners to their respective bunkers.

however, he finds your eyes again just as you’re preparing to follow the throng.

“you. follow me,” declares the duke.

it couldn’t have been anyone else, even though you turn around to see if he’s speaking to someone other than you. realizing the weight of the command, your heart lurches in your throat. how much anxiety can you handle for a day? and what could possibly compel him to seek a private audience with you?

behind the gargantuan doors, you find yourself yet again inside an unsettling chamber. the aged yet robust metal dominates the space, boasting the formidable reputation of the fortress of meropide. once or twice you have envisioned yourself barred in this place, courtesy of your way of living, but nothing can size up the fear of being here in flesh and bone.

“i’m over here,” the duke echoes from above.

cut away from your reverie, you ascend the stairs upwards to the third level. the metal sculptures of three-headed wolves catch your eye, their craftsmanship a marvel, set amidst numerous bookshelves filled with various genres. in the center of the room sits a spacious table piled with papers, while another stands to your right, equally laden with documents.

“you’re probably wondering why you’re here,” he begins, reclining the back of his lower body against the table, strong arms crossed over his chest. “don’t worry, i’m not gonna hurt you. i’d merely like to ask you a few questions.”

through your parched throat, you respond, “ask away, your… your grace.”

to your surprise, the duke’s shoulders shake as his mouth echoes a merry laughter.

“c’mon! loosen up. don’t you remember who i am?” he asks in between full-throated chuckles. “have i changed that drastically?”

don’t you remember who i am?

now that he’s mentioned it, there’s a wriggling part of your brain that finds him familiar. however, try as you might to fish for a particular memory involving him, you can only grasp at nothing. he remains just a figure you likely crossed paths with on a street somewhere.

“i… i can’t remember—”

he spreads his arms in glee, closing the distance between you without respect for personal space. large hands capture your shoulders, then, shaking you with undeniable enthusiasm.

“it’s me! wriothesley! the boy from the orphanage. remember?”

memories flood your mind: blurred recollections of a boy with raven-like hair and pale gray eyes, scenes of a brawl in the yard where his fists repeatedly struck another orphan’s jaw. more images rush in: him behind bars, and you offering a piece of bread to his bloodied hands.

“wrio? is that really you?” you ask breathlessly. your hands have found their way on his shoulders, too.

“yes, it’s me! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? how are you?” he looks like he’d seen a ghost, but there’s no trickle of terror in the planes of his face. only wonderment and utter euphoria. before you can respond, he raises a finger and dialed the nearest telephone, commanding whoever is at the end of the line to bring refreshments inside his office.

he leads the both of you to the lone sofa before repeating his question.

“well i… i tried to get by after the adoption,” you tell him, pursing your lips at the memory. “it wasn’t so dreadful, being in that house, but i wouldn’t claim that it had been easy. how about you?” your eyes wander at the expanse of the room. “you govern the fortress now? what even happened to you?”

wriothesley’s lips stretch to a smile. “yeah. who would’ve thought that a rascal like me can do it, right?”

you playfully punch his shoulder. “you’ve always had that command in you, wrio. even when we were in the orphanage. you stood tall and lived by your principles. no wonder papa and mama liked you so much back then. speaking of which, do you know where they are now?”

after your adoption, you haven’t had the ability to contact the orphanage and ask about everyone’s well-being. since you have been living by scraps, you’ve focused instead on surviving without any spare time to visit the orphanage.

“papa and mama, huh?” an overcast went over his eyes. his words have a bite to them that you cannot decipher. when he looks back at you, there’s a cloud on his face as he mutters, “i killed them.”

the confession immediately turns your veins cold. he looks dead serious.

“what?” a nervous chuckle reverberates from you. “that’s a bad joke.”

his eyes are the most unsettling gray you have ever witnessed.

“i know you haven’t had the best experience with your adoptive parents. none of the adopted children had. papa and mama took care of us, just so they could sell us. do you know that some of the children even died after being adopted? i did the right thing killing those fuckers,” he confesses without a trace of remorse for the gravity of what he’s done.

this is too much to take in one sitting. your head throbs again with a new intensity. perhaps it’s the years that you’ve been gone that exacerbates his revelation. you vividly recall the day you parted ways with the orphanage owner, tears in their eyes as they reluctantly let you go to your new foster parents. it was a poignant farewell, etched as your last memory of them. now you wonder, was it all a facade?

before you can bombard him with a set of questions, the arrival of refreshments completely dismisses the whole tête-à-tête. the security who’s placed the glasses on the table bestows you a questioning look; one that you would’ve missed had you the heart meet wriothesley’s gaze. through his dubious disposition, you realize how bizarre the scene might have looked like for an outsider.

wriothesley overlooks the whole fortress, and you are a prisoner meant to serve your time. why are you drinking with the duke?

shame has found its way to settle in the pit of your stomach. you feel self-conscious about your appearance; a full day without bathing since your capture is not how you wished to present yourself to your old acquaintance. he’s climbed his way up as one of the authorities in fontaine, while you remain at the bottom of the food chain. things are not the same.

“i should probably go to my bunker,” you voice after the security’s departure. “it doesn’t look good that you have a prisoner here.”

“nonsense,” wriothesley counters. “you’re not a stranger. and i don’t care whatever crime you’ve committed on the surface: you are my visitor here.”

you shake your head. despite the multiple stealing you’ve done until now, you still harbor a sense of dignity. it’s just as they say: you do the crime, you do the time.

“no, wrio. i’m here as a prisoner. i’ll do whatever is required of me. it’s my punishment.”

wriothesley sighs in defeat; an action you haven’t expected to come easily from him.

“alright, then. you win.” he reaches for your hand and grasps. “you won’t deny me the occasional meals, though? you’re still my friend and it’s the least i could do for you.”

that marks the highlight of your first day inside the fortress.

never in your wildest dreams could you have anticipated such a twist of fate, yet you can’t deny the comfort of seeing a familiar face in this bleak environment.

as the days of your imprisonment tick by, you’ve adapted to the routine within the prison walls. you’ve learned the importance of coupons and how to obtain them to survive. unlike most inmates who are tasked with heavy labor, you find yourself often idle. this is not due to any sloth on your part, as you’re eager to earn your keep, but it would seem as though the rest of the administrators have no job to assign you. which is peculiar in a sense that everybody has something on their hands.

“how are you coping?” wriothesley asks during lunch. it’s one of those days when he’d summon you to eat with him.

you fork the food on your plate, too conscious to wolf them down. the cafeteria’s open layout exposes the generous hospitality being extended to you, making you acutely aware of the conspicuous display. somehow, it gets to your skin, as though you have no more face to save.

“everybody’s nice,” you reveal. they really are; there’s no lie in the statement. truth be told, the fortress is like a community where you work and earn a living. however, by definition, it remains a huge cage for wrongdoers like you. “but i can’t wait to go out.”

the cafeteria holds its breath when wrio’s utensils clatter against his plate. eyes turn towards your table, speculation rife that an argument is brewing. you glance around nervously, aware of the attention drawn by his prolonged silence.

“a… are you alright?” you stammer.

“yeah,” he answers before lifting his head and displaying a smile that does not reach the eyes. “there was a weird taste in my mouth. what were you saying again?”

“oh… forget it,” you answer, wanting to dismiss the whole conversation as quickly as possible. “it’s nothing important.”

“i thought so,” he whispers without erasing his uncanny smile.

at first, you conjectured that the source of wriothesley’s hospitality stemmed from his time at the orphanage, when he was punished for misconduct. unaware of the rules as a newcomer, and traumatized by the sudden upheaval in his life, he was quick to lash at the other kids. there had been a time that he would’ve beaten another orphan to death had no one interfered. it was only by the grace of the owners that he wasn’t kicked out.

in contrast, you had strived to keep a low profile during your orphanage days, knowing that well-behaved children stood a better chance of adoption. only once did you veer to the path of disobedience, and that had been the time when you stole bread for wriothesley.

that first and last encounter had been brief and quickly forgotten over time, only resurfacing now upon your unexpected reunion.

you wouldn’t have expected that such a simple act of charity would help you tremendously during your life’s biggest disaster.

from the bottom of your heart, you acknowledge that life in meropide would have been harder without him. the depth of your gratitude for his companionship transcends words. and you swear by all the archons, you appreciate all that he’s done for you.

that’s why it doesn’t make you feel good— not at all — to betray such munificence with doubt and a feeling of disquiet.

have you gone paranoid? can you trust your guts? or are you simply unaccustomed to kindness?

but it’s not any of those things, is it?

you wrestle with the idea that your paranoia might be justified. there’s validity in a way that your heart hasn’t been tranquil ever since the repudiation of your release. such holdup hinges on your distant aunt’s failure to communicate with the administrators of the prison. they refuse to issue your release without her signature.

at first, you dismissed the dreadful news with masked disappointment. she lives miles away from the fortress. a little patience is all you need. yet, the absurdity gnaws at you—why should an orphaned adult still require the consent of a relative who never cared?

for months you mingled with the rest of the prisoners without trouble. what harm could a few more days bring? and it would’ve been easy except for one thing.

together with the anticipation of freedom there springs wriothesley’s unnatural behavior. certainly, you have been accustomed to his magnanimous nature, but not to his seemingly obsessed disposition.

for one, he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. on the night before your release, you’ve woken up just to see him inside your bunker, sitting with arms hugging his knees at the edge of your bed, head tilted downward. the pounding of your heart drowned out all other sounds, making sleep elusive and confrontation daunting. convinced he would offer an explanation in due time, you pretended that nothing happened the next day.

how many times has he sat there, barging in your bunker unannounced while guarding your sleep? you shudder at the thought. but it’s time you put an end to your suspicions. it’s time that you go up there, in his office, and find the answers you seek.

“i’m sorry, but as per the duke’s order, no one is allowed inside until his return,” the security standing guard outside wriothesley’s office announces.

“i told you; i was ordered to clean his office,” you insist for what seems like the thousandth time. of course, it’s a lie. however, you are not going to pass up the opportunity of sleuthing, especially with wriothesley’s absence.

“the answer is no. it’s a strict rule from the duke himself,” he repeats.

you swallow the bitter reality of what you’re about to do. you have never thought of weaponizing wriothesley’s treatment of you, but he leaves you with no choice.

“so, if he comes back and finds his office in disarray, i only need to mention that a certain guard wouldn’t let me in, right?” at your words, the security blinks frantically. “do you know how much wrio favors me? or do you need proof? but i’m telling you, right now: the proof wouldn’t be as pleasant for you.”

as you stand inside the room, your eyes sweep across its vast expanse, searching without a clear idea of what evidence you seek. yet, an instinctive feeling drives you—the conviction that the reason behind the prolonged delay of your release lies hidden somewhere within these walls. relying on your years of stealth and skill as a thief, your confidence grows in your ability to navigate this risky venture unscathed.

this is a bold move, facing potential consequences, and you know better than to underestimate wriothesley.

to summon a leveled head, you breathe, in and out, while fishing for the lock pick tucked inside your back pocket.

you waste no time climbing the stairs to his desk. all proceedings certainly go through him before anyone else. perhaps you can find your release paper, already signed, among this endless heap of legal documents.

no, if he intends to keep it, he wouldn’t have it openly displayed. though the reasons for wriothesley’s denial of your freedom elude you, instinct alone guides your courage. abandoning your sleuth, you move on to open the drawers instead. beads of sweat dots your forehead, heart refusing to calm down as the lock pick you fashioned from a scrap metal jammed into the keyhole.

there’s nothing inside but another stack of paper containing the fortress’ mundane transactions. the weight of uncertainty bears down upon you like a relentless specter, your eyes flickering towards the staircase with a mix of fear and urgency. moored by the bookshelves, you grasp a volume, its hard cover yielding warmth against your palm. pages are turned in rapid succession, driven by your inexorable desperation to find something.

it has to be here. it has to be.

“where is it? where is it? where is it?”

quick! where else would he keep it? think, think, think!

“found what you’re looking for?”

hearing his voice feels as though you’ve pummeled down from the steepest cliff; that your innards have been hammered to smithereens; that your heart has been taken right from your ribcage. your veins turn to ice, knees threatening to buckle beneath you.

“w… wrio…” you frenziedly grapple for reasons; anything that’d validate your suspicious presence in his office. “i was… i was just tidying up the space.”

“for what?” his eyes roam around the room that looks rather polished before settling on the book you clutch in your hands. “i didn’t know you’re interested in gardening.”

taking a gander at the book in your hands, you force a sheepish smile upon seeing its title. a comprehensive guide in gardening across different topographies in fontaine.

“if it’s not too much to ask, i’d like to borrow this book.” you steel your facade, refusing to give him an inch. it’s futile, knowing you’re crumbling inside, wishing to vanish into thin air to evade his palpable vexation.

“you see…” wriothesley begins, licking the inside of his cheek. “as far as i can remember, i told the guards not to let anyone in.”

you open your mouth to speak, but the grievous solemnity of his demeanor stops your words.

“what are you doing here?”

“i told you, i was just—”

“what are you doing here?”

he already knows the answer; you just have to say it. like a feeble insect trapped in a spider’s web, you see no chances of escaping. the only thing you could do is to shackle your suspicions and hope that wriothesley somehow disproves them.

“i was wondering about my release. it has been days and i…”

“grow suspicious of me?” he finishes. “thinking that i have something to do with it?”

each step he takes brings your back closer to the bookshelves. until he has you trapped with his overwhelming presence. he’s so close you can smell a whiff of his perfume; even that exudes his unquestionable authority.

“i just want to know the truth,” is your helpless whisper. you feel like a little lamb caught between the sharp claws of the wolf.

with one hand, he takes the book from your hands, eyes never leaving your face, as he places it back to where it belongs.

“oh, you’d never like it,” he divulges.

mustering up the courage to flee from his entrapment, the thorns in your throat intensified after putting all your might to push him away only to suffer in vain.

“please, wrio, let me go,” you huff, fighting back tears.

your plea goes through deaf ears. not even a sliver of interest or acknowledgment can be seen in the depths of his eyes.

“your aunt and her whole family left fontaine before she had to sign your papers. i had my men standing guard on her house just in case she comes back, but it’d seem she’s sold the whole lot to never come back,” he discloses.

“what?” all the remaining hope stings you like betrayal. but of course, you should’ve expected less from a relative you’ve never even met before.

wriothesley relaxes, but his body remains as overpowering before you.

“i know what it feels like to not have someone, that’s why i didn’t know how to tell you,” he says, each word threaded carefully as if he refuses to shatter the delicate thing in front of him any further.

to think that you’ve doubted him despite his keen interest in your well-being is more than enough to cause you unutterable shame.

“i’m sorry, wrio. i… i didn’t know,” you admit shamefully.

hand on his hip, he sighs, “i just can’t understand. after everything i’ve done for you, this is what i get in return?”

panic grips you in its cruel embrace. you shake your head, reaching for him.

“it’s not my intention to hurt nor dismiss your kindness, i swear. i just… i’ll make it up to you.”

wriothesley perks up at the statement. it’s eerily noticeable how his grim bearing changes to that of a curious one. “you’ll do anything, then?”

what accursed territory have you placed yourself in?

“anything.”

“then, kneel,” he commands after a heartbeat.

there are two directions where your obedience can possibly turn to, and yet both choices cause your stomach to double over. in spite of your fear, you’ve acknowledged with terror that the point of return has already been barred. your knees buckle.

fat tears dot the corner of your eyes, like crystal jewels of insurmountable value, as he unravels himself, and you take him in your mouth. he moves at first with delicacy, as though he fears of shattering such bliss. the warm flesh of your mouth, velvet-soft around him. you’re raw from shame; he’s rawed out from pleasure.

diabolical desire urges that he push himself deeper, further, make you gag with guilt and watch your mouth reach him to the hilt. like dust of stars, tears now cling to your lashes, as your lips harvest the seed of his gluttony.

in rapid succession he buries himself down your throat, reaching places no one else has trespassed in. your nails carve crescent moons on his pale skin, roguish marks to prove the existence of a fight, no matter how pathetic.

he hungers, and hungers, and hungers. until his bones ached from his greed, and pleasure carves the pinnacle of release. beneath the ache in his incessant breath, he wells inside your mouth. when all sensibility has left, he taints your tongue with rife and thick globules, begging to be swallowed.

tenderly he holds you, like his touches can heal your rotten sinews. at the end of his fingertips, your skin burns and he sinks you deeper into his pit. this place drowns in sweltering heat, from the shame, from the pain, from the guilt. the planes of your back settle on the oak table, etching the tale of his devouring. he peels you open with every lick; a fruit he wouldn’t mind the consequences of eating.

what is this, you think, the betrayal of the body? you despair how you shiver from his tongue; how you reek of humiliation when his fingers push into your dripping flesh. fog over your head, the clouds somber, the cruel zenith warm on your stomach, exploding in shades of red. since when did pleasure and poison start tasting the same?

“on your stomach,” he whispers, eyes dilated with barbarism.

the hunger continues. another triumph, another defeat. fingernails raking the wood, another tale of wrath unheard, of innocence gone. he lodges between your legs, pushing himself through the fluttering folds, tarnishing the flesh. your throat burns but you will not scream.

he fucks you with absolute abandon. he fucks you with an appetite of a man deprived.

lips between your teeth, crimson trails down your chin. he wants to turn your insides into pulp; to rattle both your bones and knit them together. with increasing greed, his movement turns rabid. your eyes glossy, your tears silent, as you swallow the vile reality of fulfilling his need.

“i’m so close,” he grunts, the sound of his voice coming from deep within.

your silence is a rebellion against your traitorous body. shrouded with mortification, you flare around his length, and he revels at the feeling. he concedes to the tight sensation, spilling every fiber of his being inside the warmth of your flesh. there’s too much of him inside you, that he leaks like liquid ivory from the wet and abused hole, trailing languorously between your shaking legs.

you run to the abyss, to the sweet caress of sleep, hoping that once you wake up, you’re whole again.

wriothesley observed your countenance as you slept upon the couch, noting with curiosity the weariness etched upon your features even in repose. he gently draws the silk sheet to cover you fully, then rises from his seat. proceeding to the telephone, he summons a meal, foreseeing your imminent awakening and the hunger it will bring.

now, he proceeds to one of the bookshelves, retrieving a particular book. a comprehensive guide in gardening across different topographies in fontaine. to think that you’ve been this close to knowing the truth.

he opens the book, flipping through its final pages until he locates the concealed folded paper. despite the creases marring its surface, the parchment appears new. unfolding it has given him a sense of relief, like an anchor to his sanity.

it reveals the deed to your aunt’s estate, which he acquired shortly before your release. now, the elderly woman resides a great distance away, forever barred from returning.

they would be foolish to return, especially with their lives at stake.

wriothesley’s lips curl in a bitter twist. believe him when he says he never intended for you to endure the same fate as he did. yet, endure it you must, just as he once did, for he is not so benevolent as to set you free.

#mine ✮#tw noncon #tw dark content #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #yandere wriothesley #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin x reader #yandere genshin x reader

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