#LIKE!!! despair lingering outside his window

[jina-juhi]

Feels like

you can love again.

Pairing : Johnny × fem!reader

Rating : 18+

warning: smut with plot, protected sex, i tried fluff? fluffy sex? and heart break. and basically all things sex. oh alcoholism. cute sex? plus doggy style plus face sitting:) oral m/f

word count : 4.5k

summary : I could fuck you, right here, right now, but only if you'd ask.

[if you wanna skip to the smut part just go straight down]

Playlist

all too well, Taylor Swift

you heard me, Heather Sommer

1 step forward, 3 steps back, Olivia rodrigo

graveyard, halsey

right where you left me, taylor swift

wouldn't come back, Trousdale

ghost of you, Selena Gomez

company, Justin Bieber

yours, Raiden

crushing, illenium

begin again, Taylor Swift

feels like, Gracie Abraham

link

When all is said and done, and the person you loved is no longer there, what's left to do? How do you cope when you've given your all, only to find yourself empty, a mere shell of your former self? It's like being left with nothing but bones and muscles, a broken machine barely keeping you going.

So, how do you restart? How do you function when they've taken everything and left you with nothing? How do you shift your mindset to believe that this is all for the better? And most daunting of all, how do you open your heart to love again?

It feels like trying to breathe without air, as if the very essence of life has deserted you, leaving behind a jagged landscape of shattered pieces. It's dangerous to get too close to those sharp edges, so you stand alone and don't let anyone close. Trying to find yourself again.

Stand alone and contemplate what you've gotten yourself into and what you've done to yourself. How could you have ignored the warning signs? They were crystal clear. How could you have not predicted it? Too innocent.

Too gullible to let him in.

Thinking about it now feels pointless. "He was a nice guy, but he was too caught up in himself. He never really saw me. He claimed he did, but I never felt truly understood," you confide while he brews your coffee.

"I never felt loved by him," you add, as he sets the mugs on the counter—one for each of you. It's a chilly evening, and the cafe where he works is quieter than usual. You're a regular here; it feels like a safe haven, a place where you can find comfort in familiarity. You accept your coffee in silence, opting not to say more.

"Take a deep breath," he urges, his voice gentle as he nods, trying to seem strong and supportive. "How?" you reply absentmindedly, staring out the window where the fog thickens by the second. The ache in your heart grows, and despair overwhelms you as you fall back into the familiar trap of negative thoughts.

"He wasn't giving you what you needed. You shouldn't have to beg for love. Believe me when I say it's for the best that he's gone." He says.

"I loved him."

"You did, Maybe you still do, but people change," he interjects gently, his gaze fixed on the coffee between you, his words carefully chosen. "In different ways. You may have promised forever, but forever is a long time. Sometimes you grow together, and sometimes... you grow apart. It's nobody's fault in the end. You just drift away, lose that connection, maybe take each other for granted, and before you know it, the fights start."

His voice falters slightly, betraying the depth of his emotions. "I know it might not make sense right now, but what I'm trying to say is... you deserved more than what he could give you. Trust me, you're better off without him."

You inhale deeply, shaking your head in resignation. Raindrops cascade down the window, distorting the glow of the city lights outside. His words echo in your mind, and as you take another sip of coffee, its comforting aroma envelops you. Yes, he's right. You're undeniably better off without him, yet the ache lingers.

Why does it still hurt, months after the breakup? Why does the pain persist, stubbornly refusing to fade away? Days blur into months, but the heartache remains a constant companion. People change, move on. But the pain always stays. It gets a little better each day. You learn to accept. You learn to love yourself. Yet, just when you think you've moved on, something triggers that familiar ache, dragging you back to square one.

But life doesn't pause for heartache. Despite the pain, the world keeps spinning, and you move forward, one step forward and three steps back, hating, crying, wanting, but never stopping.

~~~

A year and almost a half have passed since then. Things have been getting better. The clouds are clearing up, leaving behind a little less hurt and a lot more clarity. There's a sense of hold, of something stirring within—gratefulness, perhaps, or hope. Or maybe its the sound of a familiar ring at the door. You turn around to see a familiar face, a smile lighting up your face as you recognize Johnny.

"A latte, please," you say as he approaches, his presence bringing a comforting warmth to the room. Johnny nods, his gentle demeanor never faltering as he starts to brew your coffee. Johnny's a gentleman, and a law student. He works part-time in this cafe, not because he's broke or anything. He simply lives the high life. Gym first, then college, and then in the cafe followed by late nights of studying. He's a quiet guy who keeps to himself. Disciplined and courteous. Doesn't really like to waste his time on the things undeserving of his attention.

Your friendship with Johnny began in this very place. You remember it must have been around 10 o'clock at night, you had just split up with your ex. It was a stormy night, It felt like the world was collapsing around you and someone was sucking the breath out of your lungs, alone and broken, you found this cafe nearby. The rain was pouring nonstop, so you decide to take refuge, sitting in the corner, your tears flow with the raindrops tapping against the windowpane.

Jhonny brings you a cup of coffee and a napkin with words of reassurance, "It'll be okay, just hold on."

He saw you when you felt invisible to the world, and he understood you when no one else could. In Johnny, you found not just a friend, but a shimmer of light in your darkest moments.

You still have that note.

Jhonny could hardly fathom the possibility of falling in love, especially with someone as uniquely eccentric as you. Little did he know, his heart had already been quietly captivated by your presence over the passing months. As you walked through that door, disheveled and drenched from the rain, the only word that echoed in his mind was "beautiful." From that moment on, an unspoken longing stirred within him, urging him to reach out and connect with you. He extended that napkin, not just to offer solace, but as a gesture of his desire to understand you, to unravel the mysteries you hide behind those smiles. There was an enigmatic force pulling him toward you, compelling him to take that first step.

You became a regular at the café, grateful for Johnny's caring nature. It seemed like nobody else noticed you like he did. Unintentionally, Johnny had fallen deeply in love with you over the past few months. He paid attention to everything about you - your likes, dislikes, comfort songs, and movies you could watch a 100 times.

He became your confidance, your best friend, always there when you needed him. Watching you cry over someone unworthy filled him with the desire to show you wat true love actually is. Late at night, he found himself thinking about you, wondering if you were okay, if you had eaten, or if you were thinking of him. He felt your sadness as if it were his own and rejoiced in your happiness. But despite his feelings, he couldn't bring himself to confess his love.

Simply put, Johnny wanted you. He wanted to show you what true love was, and that no girl deserved to be treated the way you were, left alone in the middle of nowhere, weeping in the pouring rain. Hearing about your past hurt him, but it also revealed your strength and resilience, which only made him love you more. He wasn't drawn to the roses and smiles you showed the world; he was captivated by the scars and bruises you tried to hide.

The more Johnny got to know you, the deeper he fell.

However, he made a conscious decision to hold back because he didn't want to become a rebound love. Instead, he wished for you to heal from the wounds of your past relationship, to move forward and see him for who he truly was, not just as a replacement for what your ex lacked.

He longed for the day when you would accept him completely, with no remains of the past clouding your judgment. So, he waited patiently, hoping for your heart to mend. Hoping for you to let go. Hoping for you to see him.

Time passed away, six months turned into a year, yet you still struggled to let go completely. Though it was getting better, the ghost of your past still lingered, haunting your thoughts and emotions.

How could you not feel shattered? Johnny was just too good for you, too kind. But when you've been hurt before, love becomes terrifying. Trying to piece things together while pretending to be okay is exhausting. It's hard to focus on anything when you're struggling to keep it together. Knowing you love someone and they love you back, yet being unable to fully embrace it because you're afraid of losing them, of getting hurt again - it's paralyzing.

And then there's the guilt. Even though your past relationship ended a year ago, the promises made still weigh heavily on your conscience. How do you reconcile having Johnny in your thoughts while someone else occupies a part of your heart? It feels unfair to him, but you can't shake the feeling.

How are you supposed to let go and move forward when your heart is still stuck in the past? People say "move on" like it's easy, it's anything but easy. It feels like an impossible task, especially when nobody seems to understand what you're going through.

Except for him. Johnny. He understands.

It's so damn difficult," you thought to yourself, feeling the weight of your emotions. Letting go seemed like the simplest solution, but in reality, it was anything but easy. As Johnny led you towards his flat, the thought lingered at the back of your mind.

He mentioned the party he was hosting with his friends at him appartment, someone got a job or something. The atmosphere inside was luxurious, yet simple. with crimson sofas exuding a regal aura in the soft golden light. The air was filled with the sweet scent of vanilla candles and the sound of champagne being poured, it was cozy.

The gathering was intimate, with only the chosen few invited. Amidst the fancy party, all you could think about was Johnny. You wanted to tell him how you felt, that you'd fallen for him too, about the guilt that shouldn't be feeling. Johnny was the best guy you'd ever met, and you couldn't just let him go because you were scared. Even though your past hasn't been great, you didn't want to hurt him because you knew he loved you too. Since the day you met, he's been there for you. And he still is, always there in every little thing. It feels like you're stuck in between, torn between your feelings for him and the uncertainty.

As Johnny left momentarily, you found yourself walking towards the balcony, away from the small talk and pretense inside, with a bottle of champagne. all you needed was a stunning view of the city's glittering skyscrapers, illuminated by the twinkling lights.

You craved peace of mind, a moment to quiet the storm raging within you. Being around Johnny, even for just an hour, had a profound effect on you, all the thoughts and insecurities on one side, and all the feelings of desire and lust, unlike anything you've ever experienced before.

There was no rush of blood and getting all hot and bothered every time your prior partner looked at you. You would never have felt this shy and nervous in his presence. Yes, there was attraction, but nothing like this, but with Johnny, it is the exact opposite. His mere presence left you weak-kneed and breathless, yearning to surrender to the intoxicating pull between you. He awakens you. He makes you want to succumb to him, give into him.

Yes, you yearn to experience the warmth of love, to be cherished and valued in return. And perhaps, deep down, you crave these feelings from Johnny, who has shown himself to be both kind and breathtakingly amazing. The way he gazes at you speaks volumes about his feelings for you.

It's confusing, isn't it? Frightening even. Because all you've ever known about Love is that it breaks and burns and ends, yet here you are, falling for Johnny despite your fears. It's a terrifying feeling, but there's something about it that makes you want to continue. Makes you want to keep dreaming. But you're afraid to confess your feelings, terrified that you'll only end up hurting Johnny in the process. It's hard to find the words, to admit to yourself, let alone to him, that you're falling for him. But despite the uncertainty and the fear, there's an urge within you, a desire to reach out and claim him for your own. All you want is to grab his face, to feel his lips against yours, and to lose yourself in the sweetness of his embrace.

Hard.

And never let him go. You've been thinking about it, about you. And him. And since, you've been moving on, you've been trying to forget and forgive and embrace and accept. You have come to a conclusion that amidst all the chaos, Johnny was the only one there. And that you have hopelessly fallen in love with him.

~~~

Hey," he says, joining you on the balcony, "you're standing alone?"

"Hey jj," you reply, meeting his gaze.

"You call me 'jj' when you're happy," he remarks, puzzled because your tone isn't cheerful.

"I guess I'm happy, sort of. It's been a while, but it feels good," you admit, looking at him standing beside you. He smiles, his eyes filled with happiness. He's genuinely pleased for you.

"That's great," he says with genuine enthusiasm. "Actually, that's fantastic."

He eyes the glass of alcohol in your hand. "Can I have that glass, though?"

That's great," he says with genuine enthusiasm. "Actually, that's fantastic."

He eyes the glass of alcohol in your hand. "Can I have that glass, though?"

"Nope, I'm having a pretty good time," you say, pulling the glass away from him. He noticed a whole bottle nearby on the floor. "I think you've had enough for the night, darling."

darling.

Even in the dim light, Johnny couldn't miss the blush spreading across your cheeks. He's skilled at noticing your reactions and knows how to tease you.

Trying to steer the conversation away from any awkwardness, you say, "So I was thinking..."

"About?" he interjects playfully, trying to provoke a response.

"Everything that's happened, you know, with my ex, and then with you," you begin, but he interrupts.

"Oh, nothing happened between us, as far as I can remember... unless..." he trails off, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"That's not what I meant," you quickly clarify.

"Okay, okay, just kidding. But I kinda wish you did mean it," he mutters under his breath, a smirk forming on his face.

You feel your thoughts becoming fuzzy as you both dance around the topic. Usually, your brain would shut down any such ideas, but tonight feels different. Instead of being repelled, you feel drawn to him, wanting something you've suppressed for so long.

Despite trying to hold back, you find yourself unable to think of anything else.

As the alcohol courses through your veins, emboldening your desires, you find yourself unable to resist the urge to ask him what has been in your mind for quite a long time, and so you ask "If I were to ask for a kiss, would you kiss me? Right here, right now?"

The intensity in his gaze heightens, his pupils dilating as his demeanor shifts, becoming more serious. "Ask me," he demands, his jaw clenched with anticipation. His eyes linger on your lips before locking onto yours, a silent plea echoing within them.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, you turn away, feeling a rush of emotions flooding your senses. With a deep breath, you struggle to compose yourself, but before you can respond, he chuckles softly. "I knew you didn't have the nerve," he remarks, his tone teasing yet tinged with disappointment. Meeting his gaze once more, you're taken aback by his confidence. As he straightens himself and takes a sip of his drink, his words hang heavily in the air. "I don't know how much longer I can wait for you," he confesses, his voice low and filled with longing, "but if you were to ask me to fuck you right here, right now, I wouldn't even think once." With that declaration, practically deadpanned on your face, he goes inside the flat, leaving you to grapple with your miserable self.

~~~

The night after that seemed to stretch endlessly, a void you couldn't escape. Frustration and regret gnawed at your mind, You turned to more alcohol, a fleeting attempt to numb the pain within, but it only amplified the train of thoughts swirling in your head.

As you sat alone on the balcony, the chilly night air enveloped you, matching the coldness you felt inside. Time lost its meaning, slipping through your fingers as you drowned in a sea of overthinking. Every possible scenario played out in your mind like a relentless storm, each outcome more daunting than the last. What could have happened if you could have just said.

Johnny appears through the doorframe. His presence was unexpected, you thought he was mad yet oddly comforting, a reminder that you weren't completely alone in this chaotic night. "Will you spend the whole night here?" he asked, concern etched in his voice. But you were too lost in your own thoughts to fully grasp his words.

Refusing to retreat from your self-imposed exile, you remained rooted to the spot, the numbness spreading through your limbs. Yet Johnny persisted, his care evident as he gently coaxed you back inside. "It's cold. Come inside, everybody left already," he urged, worry evident in his eyes.

Too weary to resist, you allowed him to guide you indoors, his touch grounding you in reality. As he settled you into his bed, a wave of familiarity washed over you, a stark reminder of the times you'd been here before, always on the edge of leaving. You had been here countless times, yet never truly stayed. But tonight was different. Tonight, you found yourself unable to muster the strength to leave, surrendering to the comfort of his presence, if only for a fleeting moment.

As he guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, you instinctively reached out, clinging to his shirt. "Kiss me," you implored, your gaze locking with his warm brown eyes, overflowing with affection.

His response came with a gentle sigh, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "You're drunk," he stated softly, his voice laced with worry.

"I am, but I can still make sense of it all," you insisted, determination shining through the haze of intoxication.

"We'll talk about it in the morning, okay?" Johnny reassured, his face drawing closer to yours.

"Please," you exhaled, closing your eyes, feeling the weight of your confession pressing down on you. "I know I'm the worst person alive right now but I- I'm just afraid. Please understand. I want you, I do, but it's so scary."

"Shh, it's okay, I know," he murmured, his words a soothing balm to your troubled soul. "I know you're trying."

Foreheads pressed together, your breaths mingled, each exhalation a testament to the vulnerability you shared in that moment. "I'm sorry," you whispered, the weight of your guilt heavy on your heart.

"You don't have to be," he replied, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender gesture of forgiveness. "Look at me."

As you met his gaze once more, his eyes filled with understanding and compassion. "Relax, okay? I'm happy that you opened up about it."

"I'm sorry," you repeated, the words a mantra of remorse.He shook his head gently, his touch comforting. "Let's try sleeping now, shall we? Don't think about it." With his reassurance enveloping you like a warm blanket, you allowed yourself to drift into the embrace of sleep, for the first time with him.

As consciousness reluctantly seeped into your foggy mind, a wave of discomfort washed over you, fueled by the repercussions of last night's poor choices. The harsh glare of morning light pierced through your eyelids, adding to the throbbing ache behind your temples.

Attempting to remove yourself from the confines of the bed proved to be a tough task, your limbs heavy with exhaustion and your head swimming with dizziness. Searching for Johnny's presence beside you, you found only an empty space, adding to the disorientation.

Succumbing to defeat, you surrendered to the comfy embrace of the mattress, sinking into its softness as you lay there, gazing blankly at the ceiling above. Dehydration gnawed at your parched throat. As you drifted in and out of consciousness, the world around you faded into a haze of half-formed thoughts and fleeting sensations. The rhythmic hum of the ceiling fan above served as a lullaby.

In the midst of this surreal feeling, fragments of memories from the night before flickered like distant stars in the night sky. Realization and what-ifs danced at the edges of your mind, their haunting presence a constant reminder of the consequences of your actions.

Yet, amidst the turmoil, there lingered a glimmer of hope, a faint whisper of possibility that perhaps, despite the mistakes of the past, redemption was still within reach. You clung to this fragile thread of optimism, a lifeline in the midst of the storm.

Minutes stretched into hours, the passage of time marked only by the shifting patterns of sunlight filtering through the curtains. And then, as if on cue, the sound of footsteps drew near, with a weary sigh, you opened your eyes to find Johnny standing in the doorway, his expression a mixture of concern and relief. "Hey, you okay?" he asked softly, you nodded sleepily.

As you reluctantly stirred from your sleep, you felt the duvet being tugged away, prompting a sleepy protest. "Erugh, let me sleep," you mumbled, trying to shield yourself from the intruding light.

But his teasing remark about your state of dress snapped you awake, and you jolted up, "You're completely naked," only to realize you were already covered. He pointed out with a playful grin, causing you to blush and scramble for cover.

However, your movements triggered a sharp pain in your head, and you winced, instinctively reaching to soothe it. Before you could fully register the discomfort, another hand joined yours, gently stroking your head. Slowly opening your eyes, you found him sitting close, his concern evident in his gaze.

"Who told you to drink that much? You puked two times," he said softly, his tone filled with worry and care. Giving in to his touch, you leaned into him, finding solace in his presence amidst the pain.

"I... may have overdone it a bit," you admitted sheepishly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude for his concern. He chuckled softly, his fingers continuing to massage your head as you relaxed against him.

"It's okay. Just drink some water and take it easy," he reassured you, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. With a nod, you reached for the glass he held out to you

He's far too good for you. A voice at the back of your head screams at you.

"Johnny..." you say, breaking the silence that hung heavy in the room. His presence alone was enough to make your heart race, but you needed to speak your mind.

He turns to you, his gaze softening as he listens intently. "What is it?" he asks, concern lacing his words.

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before continuing. "I've been thinking about..." you trail off, unsure of how to articulate the right words.

Johnny reaches out, his hand placing a strand of hair behind your ear,offering silent support. "Go on," he encourages gently.

"I'm sorry," you say, the words heavy with regret. "I know this is complicated, and i am making it even more complicated but I just don't want to hurt you." You could barely manage to say even that.

Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers trail through the loops of your hair, sending shivers down your spine. His hum reverberates through you, a sensual melody that ignites a fire deep within. But then, in an instant, his demeanor shifts, catching you off guard.

His hand tightens around your hair, pulling your head back with a swift, yet gentle force. The sudden change in his touch sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins, heightening your senses to the electrifying proximity between you.

Your eyes meet his, dark and intense, and you find yourself unable to look away. His breath, warm and fruity, fans over your face, stirring something primal within you. In that moment, you're acutely aware of every sensation, every heartbeat, as you surrender to the magnetic pull of desire that envelops you both.

"Can't you see what you do to me?"

Johnny..." you say, your voice barely above a whisper, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming.

He pauses, his eyes locked with yours, waiting for you to continue.

"I... I didn't mean..." you stutter, struggling to find the right words as his grip on your hair loosens.

He chuckles softly, his laughter dancing in the air, easing some of the tension between you. "I know, I know," he reassures you, his tone gentle yet teasing.

"But..." you start, only to be cut off by his next words.

"You talk a lot when you're drunk," he says with a smirk, his fingers tracing light patterns along your skin.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, knowing he's right.

"What did I say?" you ask, trying to piece together the fragments of the night before.

His gaze softens, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes. "That you tend to get... aroused whenever I say your name," he says, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

You shake your head in denial, but deep down, you know he's right.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending tingles of anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Johnny..." you breathe out his name, a mixture of desire and uncertainty swirling in your mind as he hovers above you, his presence consuming your senses.

"Say it," he urges, his voice low and demanding, sending a thrill through your body.

"Johnny, listen to m—" you begin, but he cuts you off with a firm command.

"Say it!" he insists, his intensity leaving no room for argument.

"I want you, for fuck's sake, I want you," you finally admit, your voice tinged with both desire and vulnerability.

Closing your eyes, you release the grip you've been holding onto, allowing yourself to surrender to the overwhelming attraction between you.

You lay back, flattening against the bed, pushing your hair away from your face to meet his gaze head-on. His eyes, dark and intense, never waver from yours, sending a flutter of nerves through your stomach.

"I want you, in every way possible, and it's no secret. I'm just afraid," you confess in a small voice, baring your soul to him.

Johnny's smile is reassuring, his touch gentle as he lays on top of you, ensuring he doesn't overwhelm you with his weight. "Don't be afraid," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. "You'll love me just fine."

In that moment, as you lay entwined with him, all your fears melt away, replaced by a sense of warmth and comfort in his embrace. You know that no matter what lies ahead, you're ready to explore this newfound connection with him by your side.

As Johnny hovers above you, his gaze dark with desire, you feel a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins. His lips brush against yours in a teasing caress, igniting a fire that burns hot and fierce between you.

"I've been waiting for this," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with need as he trails kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as his hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour with an expert touch that leaves you trembling with desire.

"God, you're so beautiful," he whispers, his breath hot against the skin of your neck as he takes you in, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. You feel his breath against your skin, warm and inviting, as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.

With each touch, each caress, the tension between you dissolves, replaced by an electric current of desire that pulses through your veins. His hands roam your body, mapping every curve and contour with a reverence that leaves you breathless.

You arch into his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips as he explores every inch of your skin with a delicate touch that sets your senses ablaze. His fingers trace patterns along your spine, sending shivers of pleasure racing down your spine.

Your lips collided with his in a heated embrace, sending shockwaves of desire coursing through both of your bodies. Crashing into each other, feelings of desire over powering you both. In that moment you knew, it was gonna be a hell of a ride and you couldn't be any more excited than you are right now.

After the kiss, you both laid side by side, "By the way you didn't really say any of that." Johnny gently whispers in your ear, and you both end up laughing, cuddling.

~~~

You like it?" Johnny asks, his eyes sparkling with warmth as he watches you take a lick of the ice cream. You nod enthusiastically, a wide smile spreading across your face like a child on Christmas morning. His smile widens in response, a soft glow of happiness emanating from him. It's moments like these that make everything feel so right.

Since that unforgettable day when you poured your heart out to him, your life has been like a dream come true. Flowers, date nights, chocolates – you name it, he's made sure to fill your days with joy and love. From cozy movie nights to endless cuddles, it's like you've found the missing piece to your puzzle.

But it's not all sunshine and rainbows. Like any couple, you have your disagreements. Yet, what sets you apart is the unwavering understanding and support you both offer each other. Johnny never lets you go to bed upset, always there with reassurance and kisses to mend any hurt feelings.

He constantly reminds you that you're doing just fine, and it's true. It's not just about healing from past wounds; it's about the beautiful exchange of giving and receiving love. It's about reciprocating the care and affection you both share, knowing that the more you give, the more you receive.

In a world where it's easy to become complacent, you both choose to love each other every single day. And that, in itself, is the greatest gift of all.

You plead with puppy dog eyes, urging him to let you indulge in more ice cream because, well, why not? 'Pleeease let me have another scoop!' you whine, the anticipation of the creamy goodness making your mouth water. But alas, he declines with a chuckle, warning, 'No way! You'll catch a cold!' You pout, but secretly admire his concern."

Disappointed but not defeated, you pout and playfully stick out your bottom lip, giving Johnny your best puppy-dog eyes. "But Johnny," you protest, "I promise I'll bundle up extra warm tonight! Pretty please?"

Johnny can't help but laugh at your antics, finding your determination to get that extra scoop of ice cream utterly endearing. He shakes his head, still chuckling, and gently takes your hand in his. "As much as I love seeing that adorable pout of yours, I can't risk you getting sick, [Reader]. How about we save the ice cream for tomorrow, hmm?"

You sigh dramatically, but a mischievous glint dances in your eyes as you lean in closer to him. "Fine," you concede, "but only if you promise to share a warm blanket and snuggle with me tonight."

A grin spreads across Johnny's face as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Deal," he agrees, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Anything for you, my love."

As you both leave the ice cream parlor, the cool evening air wraps around you, the gentle breeze a welcome contrast to the warmth of your intertwined hands. As you both step into the cozy cafe, the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, bringing back memories of the first time you met. Johnny's hand tightens around yours, his touch sending a thrill through you that's impossible to ignore.

You find a secluded booth in the corner, and as you settle in, Johnny's eyes lock with yours, a silent invitation sparking between you. "You know," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, "this place holds a lot of memories for us."

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. "It feels like just yesterday that we were sitting here, nervously sipping our coffees," you reply, your voice filled with affection.

Johnny leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "But this time," he whispers, "we don't have to be nervous." A shiver runs down your spine at his words, and you meet his gaze with a newfound sense of boldness. "No, this time," you say, your voice steady and sure, "we can just be us."

With a gentle touch, Johnny cups your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away. "I like the sound of that," he murmurs, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

Before you can respond, his lips capture yours in a passionate kiss, the world around you fading away as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment. It's a dance of tongues and teeth, of whispered words and soft sighs, each touch igniting a fire that burns hotter with every passing second.

As you finally pull away, breathless and flushed, Johnny's eyes meet yours with a hunger that mirrors your own. "I never want to stop kissing you," he confesses, his voice thick with desire.

A smile tugs at your lips as you lean in to press another kiss to his, the promise of countless more moments like this hanging in the air between you.

~~~

As you sit at your desk, textbooks spread out before you and notes scattered across the surface, you're fully immersed in your study session. The material is dense, and you're determined to grasp every concept before the upcoming exam.

Just as you're deep in concentration, Johnny enters the room with a mischievous grin, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you buried in your books. Without a word, he crosses the room and leans against your desk, his presence a distraction you can't ignore.

"Hey there, studious one," he says, his voice low and playful. "Need a break?"

You look up from your books, torn between the desire to keep studying and the temptation of Johnny's irresistible charm. "I really should finish this chapter," you reply, trying to sound firm despite the flutter in your stomach at his proximity.

But Johnny has other plans. With a swift movement, he slides your textbooks aside and pulls you to your feet, his hands finding their way to your waist as he draws you close. "I think you've earned a reward for all that hard work," he murmurs, his lips dangerously close to yours.

Before you can protest, Johnny's mouth descends on yours in a fiery kiss, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips before delving deeper, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both. Lost in the heat of the moment, you abandon all thoughts of studying as you melt into his embrace, the world around you fading away until there's nothing left but the two of you and the intoxicating rush of desire.

Minutes, or maybe hours, pass in a blur of tangled limbs and heated kisses, until finally, you break apart, breathless and flushed, the taste of Johnny still lingering on your lips. "Now that's what I call a study break," he says with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You can't help but laugh, the tension of the study session now a distant memory as you bask in the warmth of Johnny's love and the thrill of his touch.

~~~

As you made your way back from college, the skies darkened, and before you knew it, a heavy downpour unleashed its fury upon you. The rain hammered down relentlessly, soaking you up and down. Despite the continuous ringing of your phone from within your backpack, the rain made it impossible to retrieve. With no umbrella in hand, you quickened your pace towards the bus stop, only to witness the last bus pulling away just as you rounded the corner. Desperation set in as you attempted to sprint after it, but the distance between you and the departing vehicle only widened. Defeated, you exhaled heavily, feeling the chill of the rain seeping into your bones. Seeking refuge at the bus stop, you huddled under its shelter, which wasn't helping much.

As you stood there, shivering and dripping, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease creeping over you. The relentless rain seemed to whisper secrets in the wind. With each passing moment, your mind raced with thoughts of your worried boyfriend waiting at home, unaware of your predicament.

As you glanced down at your phone, the screen illuminated with missed calls and frantic messages from him. Frustration bubbled within you, knowing that you were only adding to his worry by being stranded in the storm. You tried to call him back, but the signal was weak, and the connection kept cutting out. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as you waited for the next bus, the minutes ticking by like hours.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the bus appeared on the horizon, its headlights piercing through the darkness like a beacon of hope. With a sigh of relief, you boarded the bus, grateful for the warmth and safety it offered. And soon you were standing in front of his appointment door.

As the bus finally pulled up to a stop, you hurriedly disembarked, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and relief. You practically sprinted the rest of the way home, the rain still coming down in sheets, soaking you to the bone.

Finally, you arrived at the doorstep of your apartment, soaked and shivering. With trembling hands, you fumbled for your keys, desperate to be inside the safety of your home. But before you could even insert the key into the lock, the door swung open, revealing a worried and furious Johnny.

"Where have you been?!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with anger and concern. "I've been trying to call you for hours! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"

"I-I'm so sorry, Johnny," you stammered, tears mixing with the rain on your cheeks. "I got caught in the storm, and I missed the bus, and...and I couldn't get through to you. I'm so sorry."

Johnny's expression softened as he took in your trembling form, his anger melting away in an instant. Without a word, he pulled you into a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I'm just glad you're safe," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I was so worried about you. Let's get you inside and warm you up, okay?"

You nod, feeling the weight of your backpack against the wall as you follow Johnny into the bedroom. With a quick movement, you pull your hair up, hoping to keep it from sticking to your clothes. Sensing his hands on your torso, you inhale sharply as they glide around to the front, undoing the button of your jeans. Anticipation mounts as he pulls them down, and then he sits, planting kisses on your damp thigh, eliciting a dissatisfied moan from you.

In a swift motion, your undies join the jeans on the floor. "Nice butt," he remarks, drawing a rhetorical look from you. Stepping closer, he removes the t-shirt clinging uncomfortably to your skin, and with it, your bra disappears too. "Beautiful as always," he murmurs, enveloping you in a warm towel and pulling you close, his lips finding your neck, leaving their mark.

"Johnny," you sigh as his hands slip under the towel, teasingly moving between your legs, knowing just where to stop, leaving you breathless. "I'll be right back, change into dry clothes, okay?" he says, his voice a tantalizing promise hanging in the air.

He returned with a steaming mug of tea, fragrant steam curling upwards in the air. He handed it to you with a tender smile, the warmth of the mug seeping into your chilled fingers.

"Here, drink this," he said softly, his voice soothing.. "It'll help warm you up."

"I only need you to warm me up."

"Come here then." He motions you to sit with him in the bed he made, warm and cozy. As you lay there in Johnny's arms, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you like a warm embrace, you couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you.

"Johnny," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "I'm so sorry for worrying you. I never meant to cause you so much distress."

Johnny's arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer to him as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "It's okay, sweetheart," he whispered back, his voice filled with reassurance. "I was just so scared when I couldn't reach you. All I could think about was making sure you were safe."

You buried your face against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing lullaby against your ear. "I promise I'll be more careful from now on," you vowed, your words muffled against his skin. "I never want to put you through that kind of worry again."

Johnny tilted your chin up gently, his eyes locking with yours in a tender gaze. "I know you will," he said softly, his thumb brushing away the tears that had pooled in your eyes. "And I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

With a contented sigh, you snuggled closer to him, reveling in the warmth and comfort of his embrace. Johnny's fingers danced along the buttons of your blouse, a spark of desire ignited between you, fueling the passion that simmered just beneath the surface.

"How about we finish what we started earlier?"

Your heart raced at his words, the anticipation building with every breath. With a smile, you nodded in agreement, your own desire mirrored in your eyes as you leaned in to meet his lips in a fiery kiss.

The heat between you intensified quickly, passion igniting like a wildfire as your bodies melded together in a tangle of desire. Teeth clashed against each other, tongues danced in a feverish rhythm, and hands roamed eagerly, seeking out every inch of skin they could find.

With a swift movement, you straddled Johnny, taking control of the moment as you traced a path of kisses down his neck, relishing in the soft gasps and low growls that escaped his lips. As his shirt fell away, revealing his beautifully toned body beneath, you couldn't help but admire the sight before you, feeling a surge of desire coursing through your veins.

Too shy to say anything, you let your actions speak for you. Lingering on his nipples, you teased and tantalized, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from Johnny's lips. With each flick of your tongue and gentle nip of your teeth, the tension between you grew, pushing you both closer and closer to the edge of desire.

But you weren't done yet. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you continued your exploration, trailing kisses and caresses down Johnny's torso until you reached the waistband of his jeans. With practiced hands, you teased and toyed with him through the fabric, making him harder with every stroke, relishing in the way he squirmed beneath your touch.

As his pleasured groans filled the air, you couldn't resist escalating your actions, eagerly sliding his pants down while he sat up, fixated on your every move. Locking eyes with him, you took him into your mouth, teasingly tracing the tip with your tongue, prompting a soft curse from his lips. Pulling back, you continued to lavish attention on him, savoring every moment as you licked his length, stealing glances up at him. "Enjoying yourself?" you teased, to which he responded with an enthusiastic nod.

Returning to him, you gradually took more of him into your mouth, relishing in the way his hands urged you on, guiding you further down. He pulled you up for a heated kiss, expressing his desire to explore your taste. As his lips trailed down your neck, he urged you to sit on his face, igniting nerves and excitement within you. With his encouragement, you straddled his eager mouth, blushing at his sweet words as his lips planted kisses on your thighs.

Feeling his hands on your hips, he drew you closer, his tongue eagerly finding your clit, eliciting moans of pleasure from you. As his hands explored your body, adding to your arousal, you couldn't help but cry out in bliss as he skillfully pleasured you,

As your pleasure surged, you couldn't contain your cries, feeling the intensity of his actions. "Oh, fuck," escaped your lips as he intensified his efforts, his mouth and tongue working fervently on your clit. His suction grew stronger, his tongue moving with increasing speed, drawing out guttural moans from you. "Oh my god," you exclaimed as the waves of your orgasm crashed over you, "fuck," you moaned as he persisted in his ministrations.

His hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer, he delved deeper into your core, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "Oh god, don't stop," you gasped, your breath ragged as you requested his fingers. With a calm demeanor, he complied, easing his fingers into you, eliciting a blissful moan from your lips. As he continued to pleasure you, his fingers moving rhythmically inside you, your cries of ecstasy filled the room.

"Oh my god," you moaned aloud as he momentarily paused, only to reposition himself behind you. Bending you slightly, he inserted two fingers, drawing out a soft, pleasurable moan from you. With relentless determination, he showed no mercy, driving you towards another peak of pleasure. The sound of slick noises filled the air as his fingers worked expertly within you, pushing your head gently into the headboard to ensure your stability as you surrendered to his touch.

As his hand pressed you down onto his fingers, a fervent moan escaped your lips, the sensation overwhelming you. "Oh my god," you cried out as he intensified his movements, driving you wild with desire. With increasing speed and force, his fingers plunged into you, eliciting a chorus of ecstatic moans from your lips.

Suddenly, he withdrew his fingers, his command clear. "Turn around," he instructed, guiding you gently as you complied, meeting his intense gaze. Enveloped in his embrace, you shared a deep, passionate kiss, his desire evident in his words as he broke the connection. "I want to fuck you," he declared, and you eagerly nodded in agreement, urgency coursing through your veins.

Pushed onto the bed, your legs spread wide, you watched as he knelt between them, his eyes fixated on your dripping arousal. His finger traced circles on your swollen clit, then slipped inside you, claiming you as his own. "Mine," he whispered, his gaze never wavering from yours, and you nodded in submission, a smile playing on your lips. "I'm yours," you affirmed, anticipation building in the air.

With a hungry look, he licked his lips before slowly entering you with his cock, causing you to gasp in ecstasy. "Oh my god," you moaned loudly as he began to move within you, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to the brink of pleasure.

As he increased the pace, driving into you with fervent desire, your cries of ecstasy filled the room. "Oh my god," you moaned loudly as he relentlessly fucked you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. Leaning down, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, his declaration of love mingling with the sounds of your pleasure. "I love you," he murmured against your lips, his words igniting a fire within you.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you reciprocated his declaration, your voice filled with desire. "I love you too," you confessed as he continued to ravish you with his relentless thrusts. With a swift motion, he withdrew from you, flipping you onto your stomach. "Get on all fours," he commanded, assisting you into position.

Meeting his gaze over your shoulder, you were met with a declaration of your beauty, sending shivers down your spine. As he entered you from behind, a rush of anticipation flooded your senses. His movements became more intense, driving into you harder and faster, eliciting moans of pleasure from your lips. "Oh my god," you cried out, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body.

Feeling his hand reach around to play with your clit, a surge of pleasure washed over you, intensifying the pleasure building within. "Oh my god," you moaned again, lost in the ecstasy of his touch. With each deep thrust, you felt yourself teetering on the edge, your body aching for release.

As he took control, holding both your hands behind your back, you surrendered to him completely. Your petite frame under his dominance, your face buried into the sheets muffling the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips. Sensing his impending release, you knew you were on the brink of ecstasy.

With a few final, deep thrusts, you both succumbed to the ecstasy, waves of pleasure washing over you in a euphoric crescendo. As he pulled out, licking you clean, you whimpered from the overstimulation, your body trembling with aftershocks of pleasure.

a sense of blissful exhaustion washed over you both. Lying tangled together under the sheet, hearts racing and skin still tingling from the intensity of your lovemaking. As you caught your breath, he peppered soft kisses along your neck and shoulders, his touch gentle and tender. "You're incredible," he whispered, his voice filled with adoration as he caressed your cheek. You smiled up at him. In his arms, you feel safe and cherished, the weight of the world melting away as sleep begins to claim you. Drifting off with the rhythmic beat of his heart as your lullaby, you rest easy knowing that you are safe. And you finally know, what love actually feels like

~~~

hope you liked it. umh? idk tried, if you want to request anything, please do. (it'll take forever but ill respond)

please check out other works m.list

and enjoy, have a good day, night~

[littlefireball]

ʜᴊ|ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ (ᴍ)

ᴘɪʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜰᴋ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴋɪᴅɴᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ, ʀᴏʙʙᴇʀʏ|ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅ ꜱᴇx|ꜱ��ɪɢʜᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ|ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ(?)|ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.9ᴋ

Summary: The tranquil existence was shattered today by the merciless pirates. You surrendered to the overwhelming tide of despair, letting it engulf you. Yet, in that moment of darkness, a figure emerged to rescue you. But is this hero a beacon of hope or a harbinger of doom?

The golden rays of the morning sun filter through the window, warming your face as you rise. Just like every other day, you gather your belongings and step outside, exchanging friendly greetings with the neighbors before unlocking the door to the café right on schedule.

All is as it should be.

"Good morning, Y/N!" called out a familiar voice. It was a middle-aged man, a loyal customer who always ordered the same sandwich without fail.

"Morning!" you replied, already moving with practiced ease to prepare his breakfast.

"How're you doing?" 

"Fine I guess." 

"It's good to hear." He sighed. "Did you hear the news? Pirates have been causing quite a stir lately.

"Yeah… all we can do is hope they steer clear of our town."

"Let's hope so." He smirked helplessly. "Maybe I should just pack up and find a new place."

"Pack up? Where?"

"I'm not sure, just anywhere that feels safe." He shrugged. "What about you? Aren't you thinking of moving?"

"I wish I could. But, you know… my funds are pretty tight."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Here's your sandwich."

"Thanks." He settled the bill and walked out, leaving you alone in the café.

Just as you turned around to tidy up the table, a loud shock caught you off guard. 

"Run!!" The once tranquil town erupted into chaos, and you peered out the window, heart racing with dread. Tons of men wielding a machete swung their weapons menacingly, demanding that the terrified residents surrender their belongings. The air was filled with desperate cries and frantic screams as people scattered in every direction. 

Without a moment's hesitation, you dashed to the door, but just as you reached for the lock, a group of men burst in, kicking the door wide open. You stumbled to the floor, mortified, and before you could regain your footing to fight back, one of the men seized you roughly.

"Let go of me, you scoundrel!" you shouted, thrashing against his grip, but the pirate's hand clamped down on your wrist like a vice.  

"Shut your mouth, you wench!" he barked. The ship rocked violently beneath you as you were dragged onto the deck, your struggles futile against the chains that bound you. The laughter of the pirates echoed around you as they shoved you aside. Helpless, you watched in horror as the small shop you had poured your heart into was ransacked, the townsfolk fleeing in terror, and the once vibrant community fell into an eerie stillness.

"Hey, see this baby girl~how cute you are!" " "Leave me alone, you filthy scum!" Your voice quivered with a mix of fear and defiance as you glared at the pirate who had captured you. 

One of them, should be the captain, a cruel smirk playing on his lips, approached you with a lecherous gleam in his eyes. "A feisty one, aren't you? We'll see how long that lasts," he sneered, his breath reeking of rum and malice. "Set sail!"  

As the boat glides farther into the distance, the town gradually fades from view. The lively chatter of vendors hawking their wares in the bustling market is replaced by the lingering echoes of laughter that grate on your nerves.The salty sea air stung your eyes as you struggled against the chains that bound you to the wooden post. 

Tsk…

The crashing waves echoed around you, a constant reminder of your precarious situation. 

Frantic escape ideas raced through your mind. Yet, you were a land dweller, and diving into the ocean means dying. What options do you have? Can you really call out for someone to rescue you? Here you are, in the heart of the sea—who could—

"Turn left!!!!!It's ATEEZ's ship!!" A loud cry jolted you from your thoughts. Just as you were about to grasp the situation, everything unfolded before your eyes. A deafening roar erupted from the left side of the ship, causing it to lurch violently and sending terror through the crew. The sturdy vessel splintered, hurling pirates overboard, and you tumbled into the frigid sea.

The icy water enveloped you, and you fought to break the surface, but the ocean constricted your breath and drained your strength. As despair set in, you surrendered to the darkness. Just then, strong arms seized you, pulling you upward. Your vision blurred, obscuring your savior's identity, and consciousness slipped away.

—---

Coughing violently, you expelled the salty seawater that had filled your mouth. Your breaths came in rapid gasps, a primal instinct driving you to inhale as if the very air might slip away. As clarity returned, you realized that you were still aboard the vessel... but the faces of the crew surrounding you seemed unfamiliar.

"Are you awake?" A gentle voice broke through the haze, and you turned to see a man clad in a flowing white robe, his expression warm and reassuring.  

"Where... am I?" you managed to whisper, your voice barely above a breath.  

"A ship, obviously," Yunho replied. "You fell into the sea and Jongho saved you." 

The vivid image of the recent attack flickered on the screen, and a wave of dread washed over you as you gazed at the man standing before you. ATEEZ, you recalled, infamous for their ruthless piracy. What would they do? Would they end your life? But then again, why would they bother to rescue you?

"It's perfectly normal to feel a bit disoriented right now. It's a common reaction after being submerged in water..." The man's voice, surprisingly calm, began to ease the tension in your chest. Perhaps they weren't as terrifying as the tales suggested? Still, you knew better than to let your guard down.

"Is she alright?" At that moment, Hongjoong gently knocked and opened the door. His striking features made your heart race. Despite your reluctance to admit it, he was undeniably handsome, far from the "demon" the stories painted him to be.

"Yah, she is just a bit frightened," Yunho said as he rose to his feet, and Hongjoong nodded, his gaze remained fixed on you.

"What's your name, lady?"

"Y/N..."

"I'm Hongjoong, the captain. This is Yunho, our doctor." You nodded as he continued, "I'm sorry for your fall into the sea. It was indeed our attack that caused the ship you were on to sink."

"No... I owe you my gratitude. You were the ones who saved me."

He shrugged with a warm smile. "Just take some time to rest, and we'll arrange for you to be taken to the nearest town."

You nodded, and they stepped out, leaving you to gather your thoughts. You stumbled out of bed, your feet heavy as you made your way to the door, only to be met with the murmur of several men outside.

You stumbled out of bed, your feet heavy as you made your way to the door, only to be met with the murmur of several men outside.

"What is the captain thinking? Bringing a woman aboard?"

"Exactly! This is bound to bring us misfortune!"

"Or maybe he plans to trade her? She's not too shabby, after all..."

"But I heard she's being sent to other towns."

"Is it really that straightforward?"

You clamped a hand over your mouth, panic rising within you, tears welling in your eyes as your heart raced. They were clearly not good men. But what could you do? Escape? That was out of the question. How could you prove to them that you wouldn't bring them bad luck? It was easy to say, but how could you actually do it? Just as your mind spiraled into chaos, loud voices broke through your thoughts.

"Why are we having abura soba again?" Hongjoong grumbled.

"Because they're delicious," Yunho replied.

"That's excessive, don't you think?" Hongjoong shot back. "I eat abura soba five days a week!"

"Is that a problem? The crew loves it," Wooyoung chimed in as he knocked on your door. When you opened it, he stood there with a steaming bowl of noodles.

"Hey there, Y/N, right? Here, if you don't mind, I made this for you," Wooyoung said, placing the bowl on your table. "I'm Wooyoung, by the way."

"Thank you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Though you were wary of possible poison, your hunger overpowered your caution. You took a bite, and to your surprise, it was delicious. Before long, the bowl was empty, and you watched as the others busied themselves with cleaning up.

"Hey, Y/N," Wooyoung approached you, balancing several bowls in his hands. "Are you done? You can hand the bowl back to me."

"Oh, it's fine. Let me help you. You look a bit worn out."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." You joined him in gathering bowls and chopsticks, following him to the kitchen. As you walked, you took in your surroundings, contemplating your next move... perhaps earning their trust was the best strategy for survival, at least for now.

As you stepped into the kitchen, you noticed Hongjoong frantically working on something, clearly in a rush.

"Hey, hyung. Just try not to shatter the bowl again," Wooyoung remarked, already scrubbing the dishes.

"I won't," Hongjoong replied, but his next words nearly sent the bowl tumbling.

"Um… are you going to lend him a hand?" you whispered to Wooyoung.

"Nope. I'm busy. Maybe you should go see what he's up to."  

With that, you approached Hongjoong cautiously. This could be a perfect chance to earn his trust.

"Hongjoong?"

"Yah?"

"Do you need any help?" You glanced at the mess on the table, where he was clumsily beating eggs.

"No, I'm good. Oh no!"

You quickly caught the bowls and chopsticks as they teetered, relieved they didn't break.

"Hmm… if you're okay with it, I could cook something up for you."

"Really?"

"I actually work as a cook."

"Ah, so you're just like Wooyoung."

"I guess so. What do you feel like eating?"

"Just not abura soba, please." You grinned and nodded. "And I'm not a fan of vegetables."

"Got it."

You set to work with the ingredients spread out on the table, whipping up the dishes you know best while ensuring the table remains neat. Before long, your masterpiece was complete. You entered the dining hall, cradling a bowl of fragrant soup. Hongjoong stood tall, his eyes widening at the sight of you.

"Oh wow! That smells so good!" he exclaimed, quickly blowing on the noodles before digging in. "This is absolutely delicious!" A sense of pride swelled within you as you witnessed his joy, a reminder of why you chose the culinary path.

"Perhaps you should be my personal chef," he joked, a playful smirk on his lips. You smile back, taking his words lightly, fully aware that you won't be staying long here. 

Hongjoong seemed to relax a bit, his shoulders dropping slightly as he savored each bite, his eyes closed in blissful contentment.

"I can't believe I've never had anything like this before," he said, opening his eyes to meet yours with a newfound appreciation. "You really are talented."

You blushed slightly, grateful for the compliment. "Thank you, Hongjoong. It's just something I enjoy doing."

As you sat down across from him, Wooyoung wandered in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hey, what's going on here? Did I miss the party?"

"Just having a nice meal," Hongjoong replied, gesturing to the now half-empty bowl in front of him.

Wooyoung's expression softened, a hint of surprise crossing his face. "Can I have a taste?"

"Nope. That's mine." 

Hongjoong immediately finished them all, not letting Wooyoung eat. 

"Yah!Hyung!" "Who told you not to help me?" 

You chuckled, watching them quarreling playfully. It appeared that this was part of their everyday life. From this viewpoint, they were completely disconnected from any notion of evil. 

In the days that followed, it felt as if you had stepped into the role of Hongjoong's personal chef. Initially, he continued to enjoy Wooyoung's meals, but he would occasionally drop hints that your cooking was just as delightful. Eventually, you took the plunge and prepared a dish just for him, hoping to win his trust. The joy on his face was infectious; he began to request your cook regularly, and soon, even some of the crew members were intrigued by your skills. 

Cooking for them brought you immense joy, as their satisfaction filled you with happiness. Over time, your initial apprehension faded, and the thought of leaving began to slip from your mind. The idea of visiting the nearby town seemed to vanish. Yet, in recent days, Hongjoong's demeanor shifted, making you reconsider your plans.

Did you do something to upset him? How could you make up for him? You worried about whether you would be killed for this? No. What you were concerned about was what if Hongjoong didn't like you?

He had grown somewhat distant, his warmth replaced by a chill that left you unsettled. This was especially evident when you were in the kitchen with Wooyoung; his coldness bordered on anger. Today was no different.

"Are you alright, Y/N? You look a bit pale," Wooyoung asked, concern etched on his face.

"Just feeling a little under the weather..." you replied with a bittersweet smile, though the cramping in your abdomen made it hard to stand. You suspected the long days at sea and the cold had taken a toll on your body. "Hiss..."

"Maybe you should take a break?" "But I want to make some food for Hongjoong…" You winced, wanting to refuse and continue helping in the kitchen, but the pain rendered your limbs weak, making cooking impossible.

"Nah. You should go back to your room." 

"But what if he didn't like me?" 

"Huh?"

"I mean…he may hate me if I don't cook for him." 

"He wouldn't think so.

"But…"

"No. Just go take a rest, okay? I can handle." Wooyoung stopped you. "Can you walk?"

"I think so?" In reality, each step felt like a monumental challenge.  

"Let me help you." Wooyoung took your hand and supported your shoulders, a moment that caught Hongjoong's eye.

"What are you doing?" he approached, anger flashing in his eyes, but as he noticed the pain etched on your face, his expression shifted. "What's wrong? Are you okay, Y/N?"

"She's sick." Wooyoung said. 

"I'm not asking you." 

Wooyoung rolled his eyes playfully, knowing Hongjoong was jealous. 

"So now I will send her to her room." 

"No." Hongjoong pulled you to his arms carefully. "I will send her and you cook." 

"Okay, okay." 

—----

"Do you need any medicine?" Hongjoong inquired as he gently laid you down on the bed. "Or should I call Yunho for assistance?"

"Actually..." you winced, the pain making your words slow. "It's just period cramps."

"Oh... umm... would something warm help? Maybe hot water?"

You nodded, and he quickly dashed out to fetch a cup of steaming water.

"Here, be careful." He supported your back as you sat up, handing you the warm cup.

"Thank you." You took a sip, feeling the soothing warmth spread through you. It wasn't just the hot water; it was Hongjoong's tender care that made your heart flutter. You couldn't deny the twinge of sadness when he seemed distant. You longed for his smile and the sweet words he used to share. Unbeknownst to you, your feelings for him were already blossoming.

"Do you need more?" As you lifted your gaze, you noticed how close he was, causing a blush to creep onto your cheeks. "No, it's okay."

Hongjoong smiled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he noticed your embarrassment. "Alright, but let me know if you need anything else. I'm here for you." 

"Thank you," you replied with a nod. "But Wooyoung really needs to step up; he's in charge of everyone's lunch."

Hongjoong feigned a cough as he plopped down beside you, irritation evident in his voice. "It's no big deal; he's used to it. You shouldn't worry about him." You stifled a laugh—wasn't he just a tad envious?

"Nope. Everyone seems to be eating a lot more these days," you teased, enjoying the playful banter as his jealousy was unmistakable.

"Why are you so concerned about him? Do you have a crush on him?" His question took you by surprise, and it seemed to catch him off guard too. "Ugh, forget it."

"Does it bother you who I like?" You asked. His cheeks flushed a deep red, and he quickly averted his gaze.

"No, it's not that," Hongjoong stammered, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. "It's just…I didn't expect you to be interested in him. He's always been so…carefree and unpredictable." 

I once had a crush, but it wasn't on Wooyoung. A soft chuckle escaped your lips as a warm sensation blossomed in your chest. After inhaling deeply, you were prepared to share your truth. "Hongjoong… there's something special about what I feel… when you're near, my heart starts to race. I think I might be falling for you."

"Seriously?" Your confession surprised him, and a shy yet joyful smile spread across his face. "Were you just teasing me?"

"Not at all. I would never lie about how I feel."

He leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of jest. The sincerity in your tone echoed through the room, and the tension between you seemed to dissolve. Hongjoong's hand, which had been resting on the bedsheets, gently brushed against yours, and you didn't pull away.

"I never thought... I mean, I've always been there for you, but I never expected..." He trailed off, searching for the right words.

"Expected what?" You prompted, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your voice.

Hongjoong looked down, his fingers entwining with yours. "I never imagined that you would see me as more than just a friend. I've always admired you, from afar, but I never dared to dream that you felt the same way."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you leaned in, closing the small gap between you. 

"I think I like you, too." Hongjoong's expression softened, and he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you. It was a gentle, comforting embrace that spoke volumes of the feelings he had been holding back.

"Thank you," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "I've been waiting for this moment for so long. I'm glad you feel the same way."

Smiling, you gave him a nod after a gazing. Without hesitation, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, catching you by surprise, but you quickly melted into the kiss. 

As you lay back on the bed, he hovered over you, the kiss unbroken. He was tender and cautious, as if he feared making you uneasy.

"I have a good way to reduce the period pain." He settled your hand on his cheek, giving a peck on that. "Do you wanna give it a try?"

You knew what he meant and what he wanted to do. Of course, you wanted to, too. 

"Please." 

"Wait for a while." He pecked at you after leaving for a towel and condom. Placing the towel under your thighs, he then lifted up your dress to slide down your panties. 

"I love you, y/n." He towered you, pulling out his cock from his panties. He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the contours of your cheek, as if committing your beauty to memory. You closed your eyes, a soft sigh escaping your lips, inviting him closer.

Their lips met in a kiss that was at once tender and passionate, filled with a longing that had been building for what felt like an eternity. He guided his member to your entrance, which was already wrapped up in a condom, then slowly eased into you. 

You moaned out as you broke the kiss, the sensation of being filled up was weird you could say. Hongjoong, same as you, felt a little bit uneasy because of your sticky blood. 

"It hurts…" A deep frown creased your forehead as the familiar grip of menstrual pain returned. Watching you suffer, Hongjoong's heart ached with sorrow. He lingered, allowing your pain to fade gradually, before he began to move in and out. His rhythm matched the tenderness of his kisses, a blend of softness and intensity.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper. His cock could easily reach your sensitive spot thanks to your blood. Settling your legs around his waist, he rolled his hips at a steady pace. 

"Shit, it feels good." "Hongjoong…" "It's okay, love." His head landed in your neck, dropping a broken kiss on that. It began with a gentle brush of lips against the warm, smooth skin, a tentative exploration that sent shivers down your spine. He deepened his kiss as he started to rush, his lips lingering softly on the curve of the neck as well as his thick cock─grazing your hot wall deliciously as he moved back and forth. 

"Joong…it's…fuck…"His hard tip suddenly hit your sweet spot, making you whole body squirm and let out a shy moan. "Here?" He hit it again, you couldn't help but tighten your wall. The wave of excitement rushed throughout your body each time he collided with it. You loved it. 

"Please, joong. I need more." "As you wish,  baby girl." He lifted up his hips, withdrawing his cock until only his tip inside you, then shoving back with a great force. You arched your back, opening your mouth for better breathing. The crash he made caused you to run out of oxygen. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He fucked you so fast and hit the same spot dead on. All the heat gathered in your lower core and formed a knot. Pain?It was already faded away and instead by your climax. Your wall clenched his cock, urging him to bring you to the edge. He picked up his pace, panting heavily and letting out a throaty moan. 

Your legs were placed on his shoulder, oh, he went so deep. He sat up straight, grabbing your knees and pushed into your wetness. The noise from outside faded away, leaving only the rapid thumping of your heart and the skin slapping sound, drowning out the chaos beyond. His ball hit your ass each time his tip reached the deepest, making you groan without care. 

His hand found his way to your collar, pulling it down to explode your fine chest. He pushed up your bra, squeezing your breast hard while teasing your nipple, earning a shy chuckle from your lips. "Gotta taste you." He leaned down to suck your nipple, his tongue licked everywhere he could reach. 

The double excitement made you spin. There was nothing left but only the kissing sound and the skin slapping sound bouncing off the wall. 

"I'm so close." He huffed, his thrust lost its rhythm as he found the way to peak. You, too. After a few thrust and a long throaty moan, both of you came. "Goodness." Your embrace tightened as you two didn't want to leave. Catching his breath, he pecked at your cheek before removing. 

"Am I right?Does it hurt now?" He asked, a grin played on his lips. 

"No." You shook your head. "Thank you." You gazed into each other's eyes, their faces flushed with the aftermath of their intimacy.

"Hey, I made lunch." Wooyoung suddenly knocked on your door, giving you two shocks. "But I think you two are full now?"

"No…ugh…we'll eat later." Hongjoong stammered. 

"Alright. You two will be hungry for sure especially after an intense team sport!" Wooyoung teased. 

"Shut up!Wooyoung!Leave!" 

"Okay, okay~Call me if you need more condoms." 

"I'll just kill you, you asshole!" 

Ah…it was so embarrassing.

tag list:@angelsaway, @yeosangcutie0615

[librababe99]

Moments Between Time: Part Two

cw: dystopian/apocalyptic imagery, emotional distress Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: Hi again! I'm back with the second part of this series and its another long one🤭 I really wanted this chapter to focus on Logan's emotions and inner turmoil. I'm working on the third part already and hoping to have it out soon...stay tuned! - Libra * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪. Summary: Logan wakes up in the past, grappling with the contrast between the peaceful present and the grim future he left behind. He struggles to focus on his mission to prevent the Sentinel program while being haunted by memories of you and the dystopian world he must change.

(Part Three)

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Logan’s eyes snapped open, and the world around him came rushing back in a disorienting blur. The sharp scent of fresh linens, the warm touch of sunlight streaming through the window, the distant hum of a city that was alive and thriving—all of it was jarringly foreign, and yet achingly familiar. For a moment, he simply lay there, his mind grappling with the surreal contrast between the present and the grim future he had just left behind.

He could still feel the phantom ache of the battle-scarred wasteland, the oppressive weight of despair that had become his constant companion in those final days. The memories of that desolate future clung to him like a second skin, refusing to be shaken off even as he tried to focus on the present. He blinked hard, trying to banish the images of burning cities and fallen comrades, forcing himself to breathe, to center himself in this time, this place.

Logan’s heart pounded in his chest, the beat echoing with the urgency of the mission that had brought him here. The room he found himself in was modest, cluttered with remnants of a simpler life—a life untouched by the horrors he had witnessed. Sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the wooden furniture and worn, familiar objects. It was a world that should have felt safe, comforting even, but to Logan, it was nothing but a ticking time bomb, the calm before the storm.

He rose from the bed, the creak of the mattress beneath him almost startling in its normalcy. As he moved, the sensation of the sheets, the cool air on his skin, the scent of life outside the window—it was all too vivid, too real, reminding him that this was not some fevered dream. He was truly in the past, in a world that still had a chance, and that realization hit him with a force that nearly knocked the breath from his lungs.

But with that realization came the crushing weight of what was at stake. The future he had left behind was teetering on the brink of extinction, a future where you were still fighting, still struggling to survive in the face of overwhelming odds. The thought of you, alone in that doomed timeline, fueled his resolve. He couldn’t fail. He wouldn’t fail. Every second here mattered, every decision could be the difference between salvation and destruction.

He caught his reflection in the small mirror hanging on the wall, and the sight was almost jarring. Gone were the lines etched by years of battle and loss, the gray that had crept into his hair, the weariness that had settled into his bones. He was younger, stronger, unburdened by the physical scars that had marked his body in the future. But the weight of his mission was already visible in his eyes, a dark shadow that lingered, a reminder of the impossible task that lay ahead.

With a deep breath, Logan began to dress, the familiar movements grounding him, pulling him back from the edge of despair. He slipped into his worn jeans and boots, each piece of clothing a small comfort, a tether to the man he had been before the world went to hell. But even as he moved through the motions, his thoughts were drawn back to you—your face, your voice, the way you had looked at him in those final moments before he left.

The memory of your kiss, fierce and desperate, lingered in his mind, a bittersweet echo that made his chest tighten. He could still feel the warmth of your lips, the way your fingers had tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if you could somehow keep him from slipping away. It had been a kiss filled with everything you hadn’t been able to say, everything you feared you might never have the chance to say. The thought of never seeing you again, never hearing your voice, was a cold, sharp pain that cut deeper than any wound.

Logan shook his head, forcing himself to focus. There was no time for distractions, no time to dwell on the past—or the future. He had a mission, and he had to stay focused. If he let his mind wander, if he allowed himself to be consumed by thoughts of what he had left behind, he would fail. And failure wasn’t an option. Not when the stakes were this high.

The streets of the city were bustling with life, a stark contrast to the desolation he had grown accustomed to. People moved about their daily routines, unaware of the dark future that loomed on the horizon. It was both a comfort and a torment, this vibrant world that still held so much promise. Logan’s heightened senses picked up the sounds, the smells, the pulse of a city that was very much alive, and it almost overwhelmed him. The laughter of children playing, the scent of fresh coffee wafting from a nearby café, the distant honking of car horns—it was all so normal, so ordinary, and yet it felt like a world apart from the one he had left.

But beneath the surface, there was tension. Logan could sense it, the undercurrent of fear and uncertainty that ran through the city like a barely contained storm. The mutant crisis was already brewing, the seeds of hatred and fear being sown by those who sought to control, to dominate. And at the center of it all was Bolivar Trask, the man whose assassination would set off a chain of events leading to the creation of the Sentinels.

Logan’s jaw tightened as he thought of Trask, the man who would become the architect of so much death and destruction. He had to stop the assassination, prevent the creation of the Sentinels before it was too late. But how? Every step he took felt like walking on a razor’s edge, the consequences of even the smallest mistake echoing across time, threatening to unravel everything.

He made his way through the city, his mind racing as he tried to piece together a plan. He needed allies, people he could trust, but the X-Men he knew in the future were not the same people they were in this time. They were younger, unscarred by the battles to come, and convincing them to join him in this mission would be no easy task.

As he walked, Logan’s thoughts kept returning to you. He could still hear your voice in his mind, your whispered words of encouragement in the dark, the way you had held him close that final night. The memory of your touch, your warmth, was like a balm to his soul, giving him the strength to keep going, to push through the fear and doubt that threatened to overwhelm him. But it was also a torment, a constant reminder of what he had left behind, and the fear that you might not be there when he returned gnawed at him relentlessly.

Logan’s steps slowed as he reached the outskirts of the city, his thoughts a tangled mess of longing and determination. He couldn’t afford to think about what might happen if he failed, couldn’t let himself dwell on the possibility that you might be lost to him forever. He had to stay focused, had to keep his mind on the mission. But the weight of the future, of the memories that haunted him, pressed down on him like a crushing burden.

He found himself in a quiet park, the sounds of the city fading into the background as he took a seat on a bench beneath the shade of a large oak tree. The park was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos that churned inside him. For a moment, Logan allowed himself to close his eyes, to breathe in the scent of grass and earth, to let the sounds of birdsong wash over him. It was a small respite, a brief moment of peace in a world that seemed determined to tear itself apart.

But even here, in this quiet sanctuary, the memories wouldn’t leave him. The faces of those he had lost, the screams of the dying, the endless battles that had worn him down to the bone—all of it played out in his mind like a never-ending nightmare. And at the center of it all was you, your face etched with determination and pain, your voice a constant whisper in his ear, urging him to keep going, to fight, to survive.

Logan’s hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white as he fought against the tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He had been through so much, had endured so much pain and loss, and yet the thought of losing you was the one thing he couldn’t bear. It was a fear that gnawed at him, a cold, relentless terror that gripped his heart and refused to let go.

But then, in the midst of that fear, he remembered your touch, the way your hand had rested on his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his stubble. He remembered the way you had looked at him, your eyes filled with a fierce, unspoken love that had given him the strength to keep going, to fight for a future that seemed all but lost.

“You’ll get through this. You have to.”

The memory of your words, spoken in the darkness of that final night, echoed in his mind, and Logan felt a surge of determination wash over him. He couldn’t afford to let fear control him, couldn’t let the weight of the future crush him beneath its burden. You were counting on him, trusting him to change the course of history, to save a world that had been doomed by the actions of a few. He couldn’t let you down.

With a deep breath, Logan opened his eyes, the peace of the park settling into him like a soothing balm. He had a mission, and he would see it through. No matter the cost, no matter the pain, he would succeed. For you. For the future. For the world that had not yet been lost.

As he rose from the bench, the weight of the future still heavy on his shoulders, Logan set his jaw in a firm line. The fear of losing you would never leave him, but he would use that fear, channel it into the determination to succeed. He had to. 

 Logan walked through the bustling streets, he couldn’t help but notice the way people looked at him—casual glances, indifferent stares, eyes that held no recognition of the man he was or the battle he had fought. To them, he was just another face in the crowd, a man with no past, no future, only the present moment. It was a strange, almost liberating feeling, to be anonymous in a world that had once known him as a warrior, a survivor. But the weight of what he knew, of what he had seen, anchored him, kept him from fully embracing the illusion of normalcy.

The city around him thrummed with life, every corner turned revealing something new and unfamiliar. It was as if the world itself was trying to distract him, to pull him away from his mission, but Logan’s resolve was unshakable. Each step he took was a reminder of why he was here, of what he had to do. The mission was all that mattered now. He couldn’t afford to be sidetracked by the ordinary, by the lives of people who had no idea what was coming.

Yet, despite his determination, there was a part of him that longed to stop, to sit down in one of the quaint cafés he passed, to sip a cup of coffee and lose himself in the mundane. To pretend, if only for a moment, that he was just a man living in a world at peace. But he knew better. The illusion of peace was just that—an illusion. Beneath the surface, danger lurked, and it was up to him to ensure that danger never became reality.

Logan’s thoughts drifted back to you, as they so often did. The memory of your voice, your laughter, your touch—they were the only things that kept him going, that gave him the strength to face the daunting task ahead. He could almost hear you now, teasing him about his gruff demeanor, laughing at his grumbles and sighs. 

But it was more than just your laughter that kept him grounded. It was the memory of your strength, the way you had faced the end with courage and determination, never wavering in your belief that there was still hope, still a chance to turn things around. You had been his rock, his anchor in a world gone mad, and now, more than ever, he needed to hold on to that memory. It was all he had left of you, all that kept him from succumbing to the despair that threatened to consume him.

The sun was beginning to set as Logan made his way to the edge of the city, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink that seemed almost surreal in their beauty. It was a sight that would have taken his breath away if he hadn’t been so focused on the task at hand. He couldn’t afford to be distracted, not now. Not when so much was at stake.

As he walked, his mind raced with thoughts of what needed to be done, of the people he needed to find, the alliances he needed to forge. There was no room for error, no time for second-guessing. Every move he made, every decision, had to be precise, calculated. He had to be perfect, because the consequences of failure were too dire to contemplate.

But as much as he tried to focus on the mission, his thoughts kept returning to you. He could still feel the warmth of your touch, the way your hand had felt in his, the way you had looked at him with those eyes that had always seen right through his tough exterior. You had known him, truly known him, in a way no one else ever had. And now, with you gone, he felt a piece of himself missing, a void that nothing could fill.

He stopped for a moment, standing at the edge of a small clearing, the city’s lights beginning to twinkle in the distance. The air was cool, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the trees around him. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to close his eyes, to imagine that you were there with him, your hand in his, your presence a comforting warmth against the growing chill of the night.

But when he opened his eyes, the illusion was shattered, and he was alone once more. Alone with his thoughts, his memories, and the crushing weight of the mission that lay before him. He couldn’t afford to dwell on the past, on what might have been. The future was all that mattered now, and he would do whatever it took to ensure that future was one worth living in.

With a deep breath, Logan set off once more, his resolve as unyielding as ever. He had a world to save, a future to rewrite, and he would stop at nothing to see it done. But no matter how far he traveled, no matter how many battles he fought, you would always be there with him, a guiding light in the darkness, a reminder of why he couldn’t afford to fail.

And so, with the memory of you burning bright in his heart, Logan pressed on, determined to change the course of history, to save the world from the fate that awaited it, and to find his way back to you.

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Taglist: @angelofthorr @swthxrry @alex21705 @hughverine @itzyahgirllkita1 @nonamevenus @hughverine @ayamenimthiriel

(If you'd like to be tagged just let me know <3)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You double check the lock on your apartment door. Your paranoia buzzes like a broken radio. You pace around the cramped bachelor, thoughts strewn all around. One moment, you’re desperately trying to figure out what to do next; find a job, go home, call Bre and beg her to take you back. The next, you’re looking out the window, expecting a villain to be waiting outside. Every worry you have strings back to that man... 

You manage to settle down enough to browse the scant offerings on Indeed. The work from home opportunities are questionable as you tap more information. Commission based... that’s not going to get you much. You send off a few applications for fast food joints, a quick solution just to you through, but you need something quick. Something today. 

You give up and throw your phone. You stare at it as it lays screen down on the other end of the couch. You see it in that man’s hand as he flicks his thumb. Who does he think he is? The real question is, who is he? 

You sigh and close your eyes, dragging your hands over your face. The more you think about it, the more it feels you were set up for failure. Why couldn’t Bre just warn you? Why couldn’t she tell you who he was? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? 

The stale smell of espresso urges you from the couch. You shuffle into the bathroom and start the shower. You strip off your clothes, slightly stiff from the dried coffee. Your skin is sticky too in places and there’s a particularly crusty patch on your chest somehow. 

You wash away the caffeine-laced christening. You linger beneath the water and let it slake over you. You lean forward, hands flat on the tile as hot rivulets wash over your back. Your muscles are coiled tightly. The stress of the day and those to come have you tied up like a knot. 

When you emerge, you yawn, too exhausted to keep up the existential despair. You stagger into the front room and over to your double bed. You trade the towel for a loose tee and sprawl across the futon. You melt into it and close your eyes. 

You’ll figure it all out tomorrow. Maybe. Hopefully. 

Or maybe tomorrow will be even worse. 

☕

You wake up to the creak of your mail slot and the metallic clunk of it biting down on an paper. You gurgle and roll onto your side, coughing dryly as you rub your forehead. Your head is thick and foggy from sleep. A slightly thrum pulses in your temple. 

You hover at the edge of the bed, staring at the door, weighing the distance. You yawn and roll onto your feet. You pad across the apartment and pull the paper free of the flap. You open the trifold letter and your vision clears as the font comes into view. 

The building’s letterhead makes you think it’s another notice for the fire alarm test but the bold captials across the top send your heart into panic. NOTICE TO VACATE. What? How? Your rent for the month is paid, plus first and last. How can they evict you? You didn’t do anything. 

You look through the peephole. The hallway is empty. Dang. 

You rinse your face and brush your teeth hurriedly. You pull on a pair of sweatpants and your slip-on shoes. You check the mirror and shrug. Good enough. You don’t really care right now. You need to figure this out. 

You stomp down the flight of stairs to the building office and knock frantically until the door opens. The squat woman inside gives you a death glare. You wave the letter at her. 

“I think there’s a mistake,” you say. 

She grunts and stares back at you. 

“I paid my rent, but this says I have to leave.” 

“Lease violation,” she shrugs. 

“But what-- I’ve been here only a few weeks? What did I do?” 

“Read the letter,” she sniffs. 

You furrow your brow and unfold it again. You skim over the words; ‘landlord requires unit for personal use’. Huh? They can do that? 

“Personal use? But—But you leased it to me. My deposit--” 

“Take it up with a lawyer. All there,” she taps the top of the paper before she swings the door shut in your face. 

What the hell? This can’t be real. You’re in a nightmare. You’re not really awake. This is just one of those really deep dreams where you can’t throw a punch. Too bad you can’t throw one in real life either. Hard to test the theory. 

You frown and make your way back up to your apartment. You leave the paper on the counter and brew a coffee from the single-serve machine. You hold your head in your hands, elbows on the linoleum, as you try to sort through it all. 

The machine grinds and you stand up straight. You take your cup and go to the fridge. You pull out the carton of milk and tip some into your coffee. The chunks that roll out of the spout make you gag. Frig, expired. You dump the whole mug and leave it empty in the sink. Nothing is going right. 

You pour out the sour milk and rinse away the putrid scent. You need to get food. You’re out of eggs too. Just a few small things for now. You have to count your pennies. 

You put a bra on and pull on a hoodie. You make yourself decent enough to face the public but keep your sweatpants on. You’re just running to the corner store. You grab your wallet, phone, and keys and head out. 

Your stroll down to the store is distracted. You should ask a lawyer but you can’t really afford that. You’ll have to try the housing board, see if they offer public services. You don’t really know about all that stuff. 

You grab your staples without much attention. Eggs, milk, a loaf of bread, and some sliced cheddar. Grilled cheese for life.  

You go to the counter and wait for the cashier to scan the items. You try to tap your card but it declines. You insert instead and put in your pin. Pin accepted, transaction declined. You grimace, face burning with embarrassment. 

“Sorry, one sec, I’m gonna just check my account.” You back out of the way of the next customer and pull out your phone.  

You sign-in to your banking app. You see the balance you expected. More than enough for your lot but there’s a little red exclamation mark next to the account number. You tap it and a new page opens. 

‘Account locked for security purposes. Contact Bank Services.’ 

Oh my god! What more can go wrong? You tap on the little chat icon in the corner. The automated responses lead you in a circle and tell you to call the toll-free or go into the local branch. Ugh! But you need milk now. 

A message blips across the top of your screen. It fades before you can read it. You pull down the menu and stare dumbly at the text sent from a private number, ‘morning, sweet lips.’ 

[sizzlingstarlightsky]

Im Only Gonna Drag You Down

Eris x Reader

Summary: You've been fine, but your depression comes out of nowhere. Now all you can feel is numb as you look for an escape from reality. Eris takes it upon himself to help you through it.

word count: 1.7k

cw: I'm so sorry... the demons told me to write this /s

The morning sun cast a soft glow across the room, illuminating the dust motes that danced lazily in the air. You stirred under the warm blankets, eyes slowly adjusting to the light that seeped through the gap in the curtains.

Your hand reached out automatically to the cold space beside you, expecting to feel the reassuring warmth of your mate's body. But the emptiness only served as a cruel reminder that you were alone.

Eris had left early to attend to him duties in the court, giving you space to deal with your tumultuous emotions.

You hadn't seen him since the night before, when you'd broken down, the weight of your depression finally too much to bear. His eyes had been filled with a mix of pain and determination as he held you tightly, whispering soothing words into your ear. But even his gentle embrace couldn't chase away the numbness that consumed you.

Now, lying in the quiet of the room, you felt the heaviness of your soul pressing down on you like a leaden blanket.

You tried to sit up, but your body felt like it was made of stone, unresponsive to your desperate attempts to break free.

The once comforting scent of him on the pillow only served to deepen the ache in your chest. You could almost hear the echo of his footsteps, the sound of his laughter, but it was all just a taunting memory.

With a deep breath, you pushed yourself upright, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Your bare feet touched the cold wooden floor, sending a jolt up your spine.

You knew you needed to get moving, to do something—anything—to keep the suffocating emptiness at bay.

You glanced around the room, eyes lingering on the half-empty mug of tea he'd brought you last night, the candle that had burned down to a stub. The sight of them made your stomach clench, a reminder that even in the midst of your despair, he was there, trying to be your beacon of light.

The sound of a bird's sweet trill outside the window pulled you from your thoughts.

You stumbled over to the sill, gripping the edge for support. The sight of the vibrant world outside was jarring, quite the contrast to the gloom that clung to you.

You watched the sun rise higher in the sky, the colors shifting from pale pinks to vibrant oranges and yellows. It was a beautiful morning, a perfect day that you had no right to spoil with your dark thoughts.

With a heavy sigh, you turned away from the window and reached for your robe. The fabric was soft against your skin, but it couldn't soothe the turmoil within.

You shuffled over to the washbasin, the cold water a shock to your system as you splashed it onto your face. You stared at your reflection, searching for any semblance of the person you once were.

The eyes that looked back at you were hollow, lifeless pools of despair.

What does he even see in you?

The question whispered through your mind, as persistent as the buzz of a pesky fly. You knew you weren't whole, that your shattered pieces were held together by a thread so thin it could snap at any moment.

Yet Eris had claimed you as his mate, promising to stand by your side, to cherish and protect you. The weight of his love was a burden you didn't feel worthy of carrying.

You managed to get dressed, the act of pulling on your clothes feeling like a monumental achievement.

As you stepped out into the corridor, the castle's usual bustle felt alien and overwhelming. Voices, laughter, and the clatter of footsteps echoed around you, each sound a knife twisting in your gut.

You craved the solitude of the library, a place where the words in the ancient tomes had once offered you comfort.

The library was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where you could lose yourself in the tales of heroes and myths, if only for a brief reprieve from reality.

As you approached the grand oak doors, they swung open, revealing Eris standing there, a book tucked under his arm, his gaze searching for you. His eyes widened with relief when he saw you, and he strode over, his movements full of concern.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, his voice a soothing balm.

You tried to smile, but it felt forced.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose." The words were heavy, a lie coated in a thin layer of hope.

Eris studied you intently, his gaze sweeping over your drawn features. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat like a lump of unyielding ice. But the warmth of his touch was a gentle prod, urging you to open up. With a shaky exhale, you nodded.

"I just...I don't know what happened. I felt okay, and then everything just...crashed."

He led you to a secluded corner of the library, his hand never leaving yours. The scent of aged parchment and ink filled the air, a familiar comfort that did little to ease the storm raging in your chest. Eris sat beside you on the plush velvet bench, his eyes never leaving yours as you spoke.

"It's like...everything just stopped making sense," you whispered, the words raw and painful. "I feel like I'm stuck in a fog, and I can't find my way out."

Eris's grip tightened on your hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles.

"Depression can be like that," he said, his voice low and soothing. "It doesn't always come with a warning. Sometimes it just...appears."

You nodded, his understanding piercing the fog ever so slightly.

"I know. It's just...I didn't think it would come back. I thought I was stronger than this."

Eris leaned in, his eyes filled with a fierce tenderness.

"Strength isn't about never falling, it's about always getting back up." He paused, his expression earnest. "And you will. We'll face this together."

But the words felt hollow, the weight of exhaustion dragging at your very soul.

"What if I'm too tired to keep fighting?" The question slipped out, a quiet admission of defeat that hung heavy between you.

"Then I'll carry you," Eris said firmly.

His hand cupped your cheek, the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin.

"We'll fight together."

You searched his eyes, looking for a crack in his resolve, a hint of doubt. But all you found was a steadfast belief in you, a conviction that you were worth fighting for.

"It's not your burden. You deserve someone better."

"Someone better?" Eris's voice was a soft rumble of disbelief. "You are my heart, my mate. There is no one better for me than you. We face this as one, just as we face everything else."

His thumb brushed away a tear that had escaped your lashes, the warmth of his skin leaving a trail of comfort.

You leaned into his touch, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease a fraction.

"But what if I drag you down with me?"

Eris's eyes searched yours, full of a fierce love that seemed too bright for the dimly lit room.

"Then I'll fly with you, even into the darkest depths of the earth. I swore an oath to you, and I meant it. Through every joy and sorrow, I am yours, and you are mine."

He took a deep breath, the air in the library seeming to still around you both.

"But I need you to do one thing for me."

Your heart thudded in your chest, hope and fear mingling in an uneasy dance.

"What?"

"Let me help you," Eris said simply, his eyes never wavering from yours. "Allow me to share this burden, to support you when you can't stand alone."

You bit your lip, the tears welling up again.

"I don't want to be a burden."

Eris's gaze softened, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"You're not. You're my partner, my equal. And in the same way that I would fight to the death for you, I'll stand by you in this too."

He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Please, let me in."

The sincerity in his words pierced through the fog, and you found yourself nodding, the first real spark of hope flickering in your chest. He leaned over, wrapping his arms around you in a fierce embrace. You melted into him, feeling the warmth and solidity of his body, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.

"I'll read to you," Eris murmured, pulling back to look into your eyes. "You just listen and rest."

He picked up the book he'd brought, the title long forgotten in the face of your pain. As he opened it to a random page, you leaned your head against his shoulder, the comfort of his presence seeping into your very bones.

His voice, deep and melodious, began to weave a tale of adventure and love, the words wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The steady rhythm of his reading soon lulled you into a doze, the story's cadence acting as a lullaby to quiet the chaos in your mind.

The sun shone in your eyes as you sat up in your small bed, the light revealing the cramped room you called home.

The smell of burnt toast wafted in from the kitchen, a reminder of your mundane existence.

Your hand reached out to the cold space beside you, searching for Eris's warmth, but all you found was the chill of the pillow.

Your heart sank as reality crashed down on you like a lead weight.

You pushed yourself off the bed, the springs protesting with a groan. Your bare feet hit the floor, the coldness jolting you fully awake.

The dream had been so vivid, so real, that for a moment you had truly believed in the fantasy of a world where you had a mate, a love so strong it could conquer your deepest fears.

But it was just a figment of your imagination, a desperate attempt to escape the loneliness that had become your constant companion.

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[erebusbabylon]

The Pain of Parting (Gil-galad x F! Reader) One Shot

Summary: You grapple with the impending departure of your beloved husband, Gil-galad, who is preparing for battle against Sauron. As you try to immerse yourself in the affairs of the realm, the clashing of swords outside serves as a painful reminder of the danger he faces.

Notes: No warnings. This quote from the Silmarillion comes into play: "For the Elves die not till the world dies, unless they are slain or waste in grief." - The Silmarillion

You sat in the study, surrounded by scrolls and maps, attempting to immerse yourself in the affairs of the realm. The soft glow of candlelight flickered against the parchment, but your thoughts drifted elsewhere. Outside, the rhythmic clanking of metal swords echoed through the halls, the sound sharp and clear against the stillness of the evening.

You paused, your quill hovering above the ink-stained parchment, as the distinct clash of blades rang out once more. Gil-galad was training with his soldiers, preparing for the impending battle in Eregion. Each strike sent a pang of dread through your heart, a painful reminder of the dangers that lay ahead.

Determined to focus, you turned your attention back to the scrolls, but the words blurred together. The impending departure loomed over you like a dark cloud, each clash of metal increasing your anxiety. You bit your lip, willing yourself to remain composed, but the tension in your chest tightened with every sound.

Desperate to distract yourself, you tried forcing your gaze to the scrolls laid out before you. Yet, the words eluded you; they swam in a sea of worry and despair. You pressed your palms to your temples, closing your eyes tight, willing the tears to stay at bay.

But then, a particularly loud clash broke through your resolve, and you could no longer hold back. The tears spilled over, tracing silent paths down your cheeks. You felt helpless and terrified, knowing that soon he would leave, and all you could do was watch.

After a final, agonizing clash rang out, you stood and made your way to your chamber, seeking solace from the turmoil outside.

The familiar warmth of the room enveloped you as you stepped inside, but it did little to quell the storm within. You moved to the small table by the window, where sunlight still lingered, and sank into a chair. The soft glow did nothing to dispel the shadows creeping into your heart.

With a deep breath, you tried to focus on the beauty of your shared space—the intricately woven tapestries, the fragrant flowers in a vase, and the small tokens of your shared love scattered throughout. But each item only served as a reminder of what you stood to lose.

As silence settled around you, the weight of your emotions became unbearable. Tears streamed down your cheeks, and you buried your face in your hands, sobbing quietly. The thought of Gil-galad departing for battle gnawed at you, filling you with despair.

After some time, you heard the door open softly. Gil-galad stepped inside, weary but radiant, his presence instantly filling the room with warmth. He paused at the sight of you, his heart breaking upon seeing your tear-streaked face.

“Beloved," he said gently, crossing the room in swift strides. He knelt beside you, concern etched across his features. “What troubles you, my queen?”

You looked up, your eyes shimmering with tears. “I thought I could bear it, but the training… every clash reminds me of your departure. I can’t help but feel that I’m losing you, and it terrifies me.”

Gil-galad’s heart ached at your words. He reached out, taking your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “You are not losing me. I will fight to return to you. You are my heart, and no darkness can take that away.”

“But what if it does?” you whispered, your voice breaking. “What if you do not come back to me?”

He pulled you into an embrace, holding you tightly as if to shield you from the fears that haunted you both. “I will come back,” he vowed, his voice steady. “I promise you that. I will fight for our future, for our love.”

“But what if you don’t come back?” You whispered, your voice breaking. “What if I’m left here, alone?"

He held your gaze, his expression steady and resolute. “If that were to happen, I know you would lead our people. You would be a beacon of light for the Noldor in dark times.”

Your expression became serious. “No. I will waste from grief if you do not return. I cannot bear the thought of your absence.”

“You cannot allow that to happen,” he urged, his grip tightening around your hands. “You must stay strong for our people, for the hope we have fought to protect.”

Tears spilled forth from your eyes. “It’s unfair of you to ask me to stay without you. If you leave me behind for the Halls of Mandos, I will swiftly follow, carried by my grief. I cannot promise to live in a world without you.”

Gil-galad’s heart ached at your words. "I cannot let you think that way. You are my light, and I need you to shine, even when I am not here to see it.”

As he held you, you leaned into him, drawing strength from his warmth. “Please, promise me you’ll stay safe. That you’ll remember this moment, our love, when you face the darkness.”

“I swear it,” he replied, his voice filled with emotion. “I will fight my way back to you, no matter the cost.”

“I will carry you with me, always,” he murmured, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. “You are my guiding star. No matter where I go, I will always find my way back to you.”

He kissed your forehead gently, then stood to prepare for a bath after his training. As he moved toward the bathing area, you watched him, your heart swelling with love and fear. The sight of him, strong and noble, only deepened your resolve to support him, even as your heart ached at the thought of his departure.

After a moment, you stood and joined him, wanting to be near him, to cherish the time you had left. As he filled the basin with warm water, you reached for a cloth, helping him wash away the sweat and weariness of battle preparation.

As you continued to wash him, the intimacy of the moment enveloped you both. Yet, the reality of the situation loomed like a shadow, reminding you both of the uncertainty that lay ahead. Your heart was heavy, but you focused on the present, on the way his skin felt beneath your fingers and the warmth of your shared love.

“Promise me we’ll make memories tonight,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, a hint of vulnerability in your gaze. “Let us fill this night with… everything that makes our love sacred.”

Gil-galad searched your eyes, sensing the unspoken desire behind your words. “Yes,” he replied, his heart quickening. “Let us make this night one to remember.”

[byooregard]

iwtv fanfic friday: random fics from my bookmarks with less than ~200 kudos

wanted to make sure the stuff i was linking wasn't stuff everyone's read so i tried to go for the less popular works in my bookmarks

filthy with a twisted tongue by @shineforthee. 4k

Reach out to touch a dead guy’s face one time and he takes off. It’s not like it’s thrusted Daniel into a bottomless pit of despair and psychosis or anything, so who cares? (Nobody, that’s who. Not a damn soul even knows he’s here.) The smell of stale sweat and hot sugar clings in the air. A stained piece of flannel covers the window but light trickles in through the threadbare fabric, so it must be daytime. He tries to remember if it was daytime last time he looked, but it wouldn’t do anything to give him a sense of how many days he’s been here anyway.

value form by leavethebees. 4k, M

"Hey, I'm a journalist," Daniel protests. "I follow the story, and you just tried to set a guy's head on fire. That's front-page news." "Chasing stories," Alice says in an unimpressed, withering tone. "You're a romantic, then. That's worse, you know."

relentless, unbearable by eggalbumin aka @pollyclonolly. 2k

Louis taps his arm. He looks lovely tonight, and his eyes are brilliant under the bar’s light. He’s as beautiful as he is in the memory that exists in Daniel’s head, of the first time they met at Mary’s. The glimmer in his eyes, the smoke curling in tendrils around his lips, the way he smiled as he said, I did a terrible thing, once. He smiles, and it’s lined with sweetness. “You bored?” “An unreasonable amount,” Armand says. He’s not, and he knows he’s not. Louis knows, too. He could spend every day for the rest of his never-ending life chasing the shape of Daniel’s shadow and it wouldn’t bore him. He drinks whatever is left in his glass and it tastes like chalk in his mouth. Sometimes, he thinks he’ll always be trying to chase down the taste of Daniel’s blood in his throat, with Louis and alcohol and prey, and it will still find a way to linger on his tongue for as long as he lives. “Weddings are long, dull affairs. I don’t see the appeal.” (It’s 1982. Daniel’s wedding is a pleasant, lively affair.)

isaiah 43:2 by quentsy. 2k

Paul de Pointe du Lac was dead, to begin with. This was to be distinctly understood.

the whole world was ready to return by exastris_scientia aka @keepoffthetardis . 2k

There he was. Standing just outside the halo of light given off by a streetlight. His face was shadowed, but even from the distance I was at, I could see how sunken his eyes were, how tired. And how blue they glowed. Like church windows, Grace had once said. Burning like two cold fires in the night. “Been a while,” was all Daniel said when he saw me. Louis and Daniel revisit the ethics of murder. In spite of it all, they also have a little fun with it.

rocket man by quentsy. 5k, M

It was a bad idea, but that was the story of his life, yeah? Bad decision after bad decision, the longest love affair of his life. If the first was racing, and the second was heroin, then here was the third: Armand and all the scraps he tossed Daniel’s way, just enough to keep the hunger at bay.

GOODREADS by riverrio. 1k

Interview with the Vampire Daniel Molloy 3.75 STARS 328473 RATINGS 5238 REVIEWS 285 pages, Hardcover First published September 15, 2022 FILTER REVIEWS SORT ORDER POPULAR REVIEWS ONE STAR

among the wildflowers by ipsilateral. 2k

"You're soft," Jonah whispers. He touches Louis's jaw. There he goes still smiling, like it's a revelation, like he oughta be in wonderment about it all. "You don't seem like it but you soft, Louis." Louis stares up at him. There's the anger, whipping at his heart and making it race like a horse on a track, but beyond that is something else, too. Something that makes him almost tremble under Jonah's open smile. For the briefest of moments, Louis allows himself to believe that softness is a pure good, through and through. -- a few of Louis's core memories

[pennyellee]

Game of Go

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

filler warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, mentions of God, mentions of bloodshed, slaughter, very chill filler, nothing major

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 1,5K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

setted in between chapter III and IV.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III game of go CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI

𝙼𝚒𝚍-𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟹𝟾

The soft click of black and white Go stones resonated in the room, creating a symphony that echoed the unspoken tension between him and her. The Go board acted as a tangible reflection of the choices that had brought them to this point. The room, adorned with subtle touches of elegance, served as the backdrop to a game that went beyond strategic moves.

Dressed in a simple white shirt, he leaned over the board with a predatory intensity.

“The snow blocked the tunnel, ” he remarked, his eyes fixed on the intricate patterns forming on the board. The stones, each a representation of decisions made and those yet to be faced, held a certain weight that transcended the mere game before them.

A small, genuine smile played on Yoongi's lips as he met her gaze. "I heard," she replied, her voice carrying a rare warmth. Winter, her beloved season, now bore the burden of delaying the impending wedding, freezing the anticipated chaos in a temporary reprieve. The blocked tunnel however came right in time to slow down the young Kkangpae as there will be no wedding soon enough.

A sage green hanfu was draped over her shoulders, exuding warmth that contradicted the chill in the air.

From time to time, Y/N found herself forgetting the gravity of the man sitting across from her while they engaged in the game of Go. The notorious Kkangpae was capable of orchestrating a symphony of chaos with a mere flick of his fingers. Yet, this delay in their plans brought an unexpected delight to Y/N and gave her more time to plan her next move. She furrowed her brows, looking at the board.

"Something bothers you, my love?" Yoongi's voice sliced through the air, a playful glint in his eyes as he noticed her distraction. The stones on the board are metaphors for their lives, the paths they had chosen and the paths that awaited them. Yoongi leaned back, his gaze thoughtful.

"You, obviously," she admitted, her gaze fixed on the board. Y/N reached for a white stone, placing it with deliberate intent.

"Each move leads us to a different outcome. Innit, my love?" said he with a sinister smile. She chuckled softly, appreciating the analogy of him mocking her decisions.

“Are you suggesting something?” The room seemed to exhale a collective breath. Their hands hovered over the board, the unspoken language of their connection transcending the strategic nature of the game.

Outside, the late November sun cast long shadows through paper windows casting a gentle glow on the wooden floor. It was a scene set for a narrative that extended beyond the confines of a game. The stones clicked against the wooden board like a prelude to the grand event that awaited them.

"Tell me, Yoongi," Y/N began, her eyes gleaming with curiosity but Y/N couldn't help but feel a chill run down her spine when he eyed her.

“What did you do to make my father agree to this at the end?” She raised her eyes from the board while she held the stone in her fingers moving it forward. Yoongi's eyes crinkled at the corners as he considered her request, debating what he cannot and can tell her.

“I promised him to conquer, take and overrule Yakuza.” He answered, but he chose his words very carefully, yet answered with a certain degree of obliqueness. Yoongi did not intend to unveil the sadistic parts of the negotiations he had to agree to have her by his side.

"Conquer, take, and overrule the Yakuza?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. Yoongi nodded, his gaze unwavering. “That is all it took for him to give me up?”

Y/N's fingers hesitated over the Go board, the weight of Yoongi's words sinking into the air around them. The revelation hung between them like a heavy curtain, concealing the intricacies of a promise made in the shadows.

“I gave him my word that our clans would rise above the Yakuza, that our influence would surpass theirs. In return, he agreed to this union," he explained, his tone measured.

"Why?" Y/N questioned, her eyes searching for a glimpse of vulnerability. "Why make such a promise, when it cannot end to your liking and will only cause bloodshed and chaos?” Yoongi's gaze held a complexity that went beyond the game they played or the promises he made.

"Power is the currency in our world. It's the language they understand," he replied, his voice a low murmur. "To protect what matters, sometimes you have to play the game by their rules.”

A chill ran down Y/N's spine as the reality of their situation unfolded. The Go board, with its black and white stones, yet again mirrored the dichotomy of their choices—each moves a strategic decision in a larger game of power and survival.

“Why drag me with you?” She said, more bitter. Yoongi's expression softened, and for a moment, the calculating strategist seemed to yield to a more vulnerable self. “You don’t need me—”

“My heart needs you,” said the scarred leader without a second thought, reaching across the board to gently cup her face and caress her shorter hair which became a symbol of her strength’s magnitude. He shall be his queen.

Y/N stared into his eyes, trying to read him. “And I know that soon, your heart will need me too.” He breathed out. Y/N's heart thudded in her chest, caught between the harsh reality of their circumstances and the unexpected vulnerability in Yoongi's admission.

“Who will you slaughter for it?” Said she, the bitterness in her voice reflecting the internal struggle within. The scars on Yoongi's face seemed to carry the echoes of battles fought, a reminder of the ruthlessness that defined their world.

“I will not slaughter anyone if you won’t force my hand, sweetling,” he replied, his tone measured. The juxtaposition of the endearment and the underlying threat sent shivers down Y/N's spine.

Y/N's expression hardened as she grappled with the reality of their situation. "I do not wish for blood on my hands," she stated, her eyes unwavering.

“Then be my good girl and obey.” Yoongi's gaze held a mix of understanding and determination. The phrase echoed with an unspoken power dynamic, a reminder of the intricacies that defined their relationship.

"I also do not want to live in a world where I have to compromise my values for survival," Y/N asserted her voice firm. The vulnerability she had glimpsed in Yoongi's eyes moments ago now seemed to clash with the harsh reality of their conversation.

“God has a plan and we shall follow his lead,” Yoongi murmured, his words carrying a certain solemnity.

“So you are justifying your actions solely by a divine plan, what happened to ‘actions that have consequences’, Kkangpae? Does it only apply to me?” She retorted to his comment. The air was heavy with the weight of their divergent beliefs.

Yoongi's eyes bore into Y/N's, the intensity of their gaze sparking a silent battle of wills. “I acknowledge the consequences, and I bear them willingly for the path we have chosen.”

“Do you?” Tears welled in her eyes, and her vulnerability laid bare. Yoongi's gaze softened as he saw the tears welling in Y/N's eyes. He is bearing the consequences of what he has done to ensure she will be by his side and what it will take for her to settle down with him. Yoongi has a storm inside his home, and he is willing to power through, right to her heart. Whatever it takes.

"Every choice I make, every consequence I face, is a burden I carry willingly for the sake of us," he confessed, his voice low and filled with sincerity. “The world we live in demands sacrifices, and I won't let those sacrifices be in vain.”

“I am your weakness.” Y/N did not know what reaction she expected to draw from Yoongi. She wanted to let him know, she is doubting that he would ever take the drastic measures he often speaks about when she will not obey. Yoongi's gaze intensified as he heard her words.

"You are not my weakness, Y/N," he countered, his voice firm. “Love can be both, weakness and strength. You are my strength. You are my purpose.” Y/N scoffed at his bold claims, pushing his hands away from her. His touch was like a burn caused by fire to her.

“You will see that. I will be patient and welcome you in my arms when you will finally realise, Dove.”

The Go stones clicked softly as Yoongi made a move on the board, a symbolic gesture that marked a continuation of the intricate game they played.

.

.

.

©pennyellee. please do not repost

author's note: Merry Christmas!! I wish you all a very happy and jolly holidays! I managed to finish a filler that happened in between chapter III and IV, so here it is chummers! Enjoy! ♥

Love you all!! ♥

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @chaoticpuff17 - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts

[ayaki-channn]

VEIL OF WINTER'S EMBRACE.

-S. Haruchiyo

WARNINGS: Themes of violence and crime, emotional distress, and depictions of toxic relationships.

DESCRIPTION: Sanzu Haruchiyo must choose between the allure of danger and the redemptive power of love, revealing the fragile beauty that can blossom even in the harshest cold.

In the heart of winter, the air was sharp and biting, each breath crystallizing like whispers of secrets long buried beneath layers of snow. The world outside lay draped in white, a pristine facade that belied the chaos lurking just beneath its surface.

Amidst this serene backdrop, You stood by your frosted window, gaze lost in the swirling snowflakes. Each flake danced in the dim light, a fleeting reminder of the beauty that existed outside their tangled thoughts. Your heart ached with a familiar heaviness, a reminder of Haruchiyo, the man you loved, who now felt more like a ghost haunting your days than a partner you could rely on.

Sanzu Haruchiyo was entangled in the dark underbelly of Japan, a rising star in the most dangerous criminal organization in the nation. Your relationship, once a sanctuary of warmth and romance, had become a battlefield of silences and unspoken fears. Each time he slipped away into the shadows of his world, he left behind an emptiness that threatened to swallow you whole.

As you wrapped your arms around yourself, a shiver ran down your spine—not just from the cold, but from the realization that you were losing him to a world that demanded his devotion far beyond what your heart could endure.

The door creaked open with a reluctant sigh, revealing Haruchiyo, whose weary silhouette cut a stark figure against the soft illumination of the room. He stepped inside, his coat heavy with the chill of the winter night, the weight of his existence palpable in the air. Fatigue etched deep lines across his face, a canvas painted with shadows that told tales of a world far removed from your own.

Without sparing you a glance, he strode to the bar, pouring himself a glass of rich, dark wine. The crimson liquid sloshed gently, as if reluctant to leave the bottle, mirroring the tumult within your heart. You watched him, feeling the familiar ache of longing twist within you, but it was swiftly overshadowed by a profound sorrow.

“Haruchiyo,” you ventured, voice trembling, a fragile whisper in the oppressive silence.

“What am I to you?”

He paused, the glass hovering at his lips, the question hanging in the air like a haunting specter. When he finally turned to you, his expression was a carefully constructed mask, revealing nothing of the tumultuous emotions that roiled beneath.

“You?” he replied, his tone devoid of warmth, slicing through the air with a dispassionate edge. “You are merely a slut I plucked from a club one random night. Nothing more.”

The chill of his words seeped into your very bones, and you felt as though the warmth of your shared moments had been extinguished, leaving only a cold, echoing void in its place. He regarded you with a detached indifference, as if you were a fleeting amusement, a mere trinket in his lavish life.

“Consider yourself fortunate to remain here,” he continued, his voice casual, as if discussing the weather. “Most women wouldn’t last long in my world. You should be grateful I still keep you around.”

A deep sorrow crashed over you like a frigid wave, each word striking you with the force of a winter storm. “Grateful?” you echoed, the bitterness of the word lingering on your tongue. “Grateful for what? To be treated as a mere shadow in your life?”

He shrugged, taking another languid sip from his glass, the ruby liquid reflecting the dim light. “This is my reality. You’re quite lucky to be here because I permit it. Don’t forget that.”

Anger mingled with despair, a tempest swirling within you. “Lucky?” you said, your voice rising, trembling with emotion. “Lucky to be just another name in your roster? Lucky to witness you prioritize your criminal empire over our love time and again?”

His gaze met yours, hard and unyielding. “This life demands sacrifice, and you are part of it only because I allow it.”

The truth of his words crashed over you like an avalanche, and you turned away, the sting of tears threatening to betray you. “What do you want from me, Haru?” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Is this all I am to you?”

For a fleeting moment, his facade cracked, a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—crossing his features. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a cold resolve. “You know what I want. You should know by now.”

In that moment, an ember of defiance ignited within you. “I want more, Haru. I want to be loved—not as a trophy or a fleeting distraction, but as someone who matters.” With those words, you stepped toward the door, the chill of the night beckoning you with an alluring promise of freedom.

But as you reached for the handle, a sharp click echoed through the room, freezing your figure in place. Haruchiyo had drawn his gun, the barrel glinting ominously in the dim light. “You’re not leaving,” he declared, his voice a low growl, the threat hanging heavy in the air.

Your heart raced, the gravity of the moment sinking deep. “You would shoot me?” you asked, voice trembling yet resolute. “After everything we’ve shared?”

“Don’t test me,” he warned, his finger hovering over the trigger, his breath a mixture of anger and something unnamable.

Desperation clawed at you, and you turned to him, eyes brimming with tears that shimmered like fragile glass. “You think you can silence what we had with a single pull of the trigger? You think that love can be extinguished so easily?”

You stepped closer, your voice softening, the warmth of your words cutting through the icy tension. “Sanzu Haruchiyo, I have loved you fiercely, even when you pushed me away. I see you—truly see you, beneath the layers of this dangerous facade. I know you’re trapped in a world that demands everything from you. But you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to lose me.”

For a moment, he hesitated, the gun trembling in his grip as your words wove through the darkness, seeking the flicker of humanity buried within him.

“You’re just a distraction,” he muttered, though the conviction in his voice wavered.

“Am I?” you countered gently, stepping even closer, daring to bridge the chasm between them. “You’re a man torn between the life you’ve chosen and the love that could set you free. You don’t have to be this monster. You can choose me instead.”

Time seemed to stretch, and in that fraught silence, Haruchiyo’s resolve wavered. The gun lowered slightly, his breath hitching as he fought against the storm of emotions raging within.

“I can’t…” he whispered, as if admitting it out loud would shatter the very foundations of his existence.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against the cool metal of the weapon, and he flinched but didn’t pull away. “You can, Haru. You can choose love over fear. You can choose me.”

In that instant, the weight of his world felt lighter, as if the burden he had carried alone began to dissipate. “I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice a stark contrast to the fierce man you had known.

With the gun slipping from his grip, clattering to the floor, you took a bold step forward. You cupped his face in your hands, searching his eyes for the flicker of warmth you knew still lingered there. “Then don’t. Let me in, Haru. Let’s face this together. Love is a choice, and I choose you, always.”

In that moment, something shifted in him. The icy veneer he wore melted away, revealing the man you had fallen for—the man who could love fiercely despite the darkness surrounding him. As you leaned in, your foreheads touched, a gentle promise against the chaos of their lives.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, his voice barely a breath, yet it echoed with the weight of a vow.

“I will,” you replied, your heart swelling with hope. “As long as you choose to fight for us.”

In that embrace, amidst the shadows and uncertainty, the promise of a new beginning unfurled—a love untainted by the darkness, blossoming like the first flowers of spring against the frost of winter. Together, they would carve a path illuminated by the light of their love, forging a bond that could withstand the trials ahead, hand in hand, heart to heart.

[tinytinyblogs]

The Mafia: Mingi

He never jokes about his determination to make you his forever, even if it means he has to take a bullet to prove his love for you.

(Mafia theme, mention gun and blood) 1k words

This story has been lingering in my draft for quite some time, and I haven't made any changes or edits to it.

💌 @ultimatebathroomsinger

Ateez masterlist here

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

The opulent ballroom buzzed with an unsettling energy, a symphony of clinking glasses, silken whispers, and forced laughter that hung like a shroud over the gathering. Amidst this sea of feigning sophistication, a palpable tension crackled like electricity, threatening to erupt at any moment. Like phantoms in a masquerade, the guests mingled, their faces masks of artificial smiles, their eyes darting like wary predators. Enemies, forced to feign cordiality for the sake of appearances, exchanged knowing glances, their words laced with thinly veiled hostility. Beneath the veneer of camaraderie, a web of unspoken threats and hidden agendas wove its intricate pattern, poised to ensnare the unsuspecting. Amidst this treacherous tableau, your eyes found solace in the gentle presence of Mingi, a figure radiating an aura of quiet strength amidst the chaos.

His gaze, as deep and mesmerizing as the midnight sky, met yours, sending a reassuring warmth through your veins. Yet, a nagging doubt lingered, a question that echoed in the recesses of your mind: Was it wrong to find comfort in the presence of Mingi, a man whose name was whispered in the same breath as violence and power? You, clad in a shimmering dress that seemed to reflect the very essence of your vulnerability, felt like an outsider in this world of hardened criminals and Machiavellian schemes. In the heart of the opulent ballroom, you stood mesmerized by Mingi's gaze, his eyes a hypnotic vortex that drew you deeper into their depths. As if on cue, the room plunged into darkness, the vibrant lights extinguishing like a collective breath, leaving behind an unsettling silence that sent shivers down your spine.

In the stark void, Mingi's presence transformed into your lifeline, a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching darkness. His strong hand found your waist, pulling you closer, his solid form a comforting shield against the looming chaos. In that moment of absolute surrender, you knew that only Mingi mattered, his presence the only anchor in the tempestuous sea of turmoil. As the darkness thickened, the air grew thick with an ominous tension. Gunshots erupted, their deafening blasts shattering the silence, sending echoes ricocheting through the room like a symphony of terror. Painful groans and cries of despair followed, their sources obscured by the enveloping gloom. The once elegant guests, now transformed into terrified souls, scattered in all directions, their frantic footsteps echoing like the panicked heartbeat of the night.

In the midst of this pandemonium, your body was tossed about like a leaf in a storm, Mingi's grip the only lifeline keeping you from being swept away by the human tide. The sounds of violence intensified, the air heavy with the acrid tang of gunpowder and the palpable fear that gripped the room. Suddenly, amidst the cacophony of chaos, a deep, guttural groan escaped Mingi's lips, a sound that sent a chill down your spine. The echo of his suffering hung heavy in the darkness, a stark reminder of the peril that surrounded them. The silence that followed was almost deafening, broken only by the occasional groan. As you and Mingi escaped the chaos of the ballroom, he dragged you towards a room with a large window, the only source of light amidst the darkness.

The moonlight streamed in, illuminating the room and revealing Mingi's bloody shirt. Despite the wound, he couldn't suppress a grin. "We're safe, sweetheart," he said, his voice laced with affection. He gently lifted your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. "I told you, no one else can keep you safe. Only me." A wave of conflicting emotions washed over you. You knew Mingi was capable of great violence, but he also possessed a tenderness reserved only for you. You had always questioned his motives, but now, as he cradled you in his arms, you felt a flicker of trust. "I took the bullet for you," he confessed, his grin widening. "Stupid," you muttered to yourself, your voice barely a whisper as you fought back tears. The thought of the bullets that could have pierced your body sent shivers down your spine.

Mingi reached out with his other hand, gently wiping away the tears that streamed down your face. "Darling," he said softly, his voice filled with concern. "They say falling in love means we're being stupid. Well, I guess I've been stupid for you all this time." A faint smile graced your lips despite the fear that still lingered in your heart. "And I'm not going to let this bullet wound kill me," he continued, his voice filled with determination. "My men will be here soon, and you're going to stay with me tonight." Your eyes narrowed into slits, their fiery gaze piercing through Mingi's calm demeanor. "Why would you do that?" you hissed, your voice barely a whisper yet laced with intense emotion. "You know it's dangerous!" Mingi maintained his serene expression, his lips curving into a gentle smile.

"Calm down, my love," he soothed. "It's called sacrifice, and I'm willing to make it for you." A sudden noise from outside startled you. Footsteps echoed in the hallway, followed by a voice that Mingi immediately recognized as belonging to one of his trusted men. "That's why I told you to make it easy for both of us," Mingi said, turning his attention back to you. His gaze softened, his eyes filled with a tenderness that almost melted your resistance. "Just marry me," he proposed, his voice a gentle caress. "Be stupid for me, love me. Isn't that easy enough?" Mingi turned his body to face you squarely, his expression resolute. "One bullet should be enough to demonstrate that I'm not joking," he declared, his voice unwavering. The door burst open as one of his men rushed in, his face etched with concern. He quickly scanned Mingi for injuries, his relief evident when he received a nod of assurance. "I'm fine," Mingi informed him, his tone dismissive. "Take care of the rest. Get the car ready and take my fiancée with us." With a final wink at you, Mingi strode towards the door, leaving his men to handle the aftermath. You followed closely behind, your heart still pounding from the adrenaline rush.

© Tinytinyblogs

[xxsycamore]

𝗟𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗜𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗠𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗲 [Vincent x Reader]

↬ 💛 It's as if Vincent's smile alone is able to fight your cramps, but it seems like he has a stronger weapon up his sleeve.

Vincent van Gogh x menstruating!Reader • rating: G • tags: Menstruation; Period Cramps; mentions of Menstruation art; Fluff; Pet names • wordcount:  973 • masterlist

a/n: It's Vincent's turn! If you happen to suffer from cramps and you want your favorite ikevamp suitor comforting you in their own unique way, may I also offer: Napoleon, Comte, Mozart, Theo, Leonardo, Sebastian, Arthur (NSFW) 💕(All fics in this series share the same opening scene!)

It’s another beautiful day at the mansion, and the sun is continuing to shine brightly outside as afternoon settles in. Your list of chores is more than half-way done now, the morning was a productive one and you pat yourself on the back for pushing through at your usual pace, even if your period surprised you early this morning. Sleeves rolled up and armed with a feather duster, you march towards the lounge room to take care of another chore.

Specks of dust dance in the afternoon sun, windows wide open, as you complete your task little by little. Soon the sections left to dust decrease and you start to tire - a minor pain in your tummy appearing as well, as if to persuade you into taking a short break. You throw a look to the grandfather clock. You’ve been a busy bee; not even the distraction of dusting off some of Comte’s highly intriguing antiques couldn’t get you late on your own schedule.

You sit down at the spacious couch area, grab a throw pillow to hug, and fall on your side - shoe-covered feet juust hanging off the couch because it won’t be worth the effort of taking them off for just a minute or two of rest.

Uh-oh! The pain doesn’t go away and only gets worse instead. Suddenly moving as much as a millimeter equals signing a death warrant.

“Help” You whisper to yourself, clutching onto the throw pillow.

***

Did the room just get brighter or- no, that's just your boyfriend Vincent entering. The beam of light that is his smile upon finding you here is cutting through the dark clouds of despair lingering over your head... but he still seems to notice them.

"Are you alright, schatje? I don't see you laying around here often..."

You let out a meek noise signaling he's indeed right to worry, as much as you don't want this to be the case... Rising to a seated position while still hugging the pillow, you follow Vincent's baby blue eyes as he takes a seat next to you, and finally mutter the words.

"My tummy hurts."

Vincent's eyes widen further. "Oh no! What can I do for you? Do you have more of those pills from your time in your bag?"

"I don't think so... Can you just stay here with me for a while?"

Vincent takes one of your hands to caress, giving you his best smile and a nod even though you can tell he's still worried. Relaxing back in the soft cushions together with him, you find it cute how his soft sigh comes only after yours. His care is always so gentle and thorough, and you can always feel it.

Melting into his caress as he draws figures on your palm, you suddenly think of something and giggle.

"What's it, schatje?"

"I just remembered, did you know that in my time menstrual art was a thing? Like artists using menstrual blood for their paintings?"

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth as soon as the question leaves your mouth, not quite sure if you should've said it after all. You know your Vincent but even so, it's a ...peculiar thing to talk about.

"Really? That's so intriguing, what a unique and bold way to represent one's struggles... I'm happy to know that the social stigma about it is no more. It never stood right with me, it's part of being...human."

You don't have the heart to tell him that this is far from the end of the stigma surrounding periods, but you're pleasantly surprised by his reaction. When you first started dating, you'd notice him getting red about any and all...adult topics, as well as the aspect of relationships as a whole, so you're glad to know you're not making him feel awkward with this. It must come from a place of understanding the human self, as you know his past of trying to learn about it for his paintings.

You mentioned menstrual art almost out of boredom, like a fun fact you randomly remembered, but somehow now you're thinking about him, about the struggles of his own that he'd once put on paper, about how much deeper he is beyond the surface. He'd get those surprised faces when he presents the meaning behind one of his paintings, like they'd never expect such depth coming from the shallow personality of Vincent who seems to always keep a default tiny smile on his face. The passion hidden beneath is only unraveled to those closest to him and... you're glad to be where you are, resting your head on his shoulder right now.

Vincent lets out one of those small chuckles that make flowers bloom in your chest.

"Just as I ran out of red blood."

Blink.

You raise your head from Vincent's shoulder to look at him. He smiles at you, tilting his head, but you can see something bubbling underneath the surface, as if he's holding in his laughter.

You give in first so he naturally follows, reassuring with words too as an extra measure.

"I'm joking, sorry. The others said I should joke more often... something about being able to keep a straight face."

"They're right!" You say between fits of chuckles that continue to come when you imagine this conversation taking place. "Not because of the straight face, you're genuinely funny."

"Hehe, I don't get that often. Thank you."

You return the soft smile Vincent gives you, and you're being nudged into resting your head down once again. It's then that you notice.

"I think my tummy doesn't ache as much anymore!"

Vincent's gasp is barely audible, but this close up you catch it just fine. Or maybe you're sensitive about his reactions like that.

"That's good to hear. After all, laughter is the best medicine."

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[mandoalorian]

celeste [leon s. kennedy x reader]

word count; 1,4k words

age rating: suitable for all (hurt/comfort)

note: leon comforts the reader after they wake up from a nightmare, and eases their anxiety.

masterlist in pinned

The rain pelted against the windowpane, a relentless rhythm that matched the storm raging inside you. Anxiety gnawed at your insides, twisting and turning like a viper coiled in your chest. You sat on the edge of your bed, cradling your head in your hands, trying to make sense of the devastating news you had just received. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to hold back the flood threatening to consume you.

Just as the darkness threatened to swallow you whole, a gentle knock echoed through the room. Startled, you looked up to see Leon standing in the doorway, his expression a mixture of concern and empathy. Without a word, he crossed the room and sat beside you, offering a comforting presence in the midst of your turmoil.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "I heard what happened. I'm here if you need to talk."

You hesitated, your anxiety tightening its grip on you like a vice. But something in Leon's steady gaze urged you to open up. With a shaky breath, you poured out your fears and frustrations, the weight of your burdens lifting slightly with each word spoken.

As you spoke, Leon listened intently, his own memories of tragedy and loss surfacing in the wake of your pain. He spoke of Raccoon City, of the chaos and destruction wrought by the outbreak, and the countless lives lost in the blink of an eye.

"I remember feeling so helpless," he confessed, his voice tinged with sorrow. "But I knew I had to keep moving forward, for the sake of those who couldn't. It wasn't easy, but I had to believe that there was still hope, even in the darkest of times."

His words resonated with you, a flicker of light in the suffocating darkness of your anxiety. With each moment spent in his presence, you felt the tension in your shoulders ease, replaced by a warmth that spread through your chest.

"I don't know what I would do without you," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Leon's gaze softened, his hand reaching out to gently brush away a stray tear from your cheek. "You don't have to face this alone," he murmured, his voice filled with a tenderness that sent shivers down your spine.

In that moment, as the storm raged on outside, you realized that perhaps there was hope after all. And with Leon by your side, you knew that together, you could weather any storm that came your way.

Hours passed in a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional rumble of thunder or the soft patter of rain against the window. You found solace in the steady rhythm of Leon's breathing, a reminder that you were not alone in your struggles.

As the night wore on, exhaustion began to weigh heavily on your eyelids, threatening to pull you into the depths of sleep. With a soft sigh, you leaned against Leon's shoulder, seeking comfort in the warmth of his embrace.

"Rest now," he whispered, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll be here when you wake up."

And as sleep finally claimed you, you found peace in the knowledge that no matter what tomorrow brought, you would face it together, hand in hand with the man who had become your guiding light in the darkness.

The night pressed on, heavy with the weight of exhaustion and worry. In the midst of fitful sleep, nightmares clawed at the edges of your consciousness, dragging you down into a realm of darkness and despair. Images of chaos and destruction flashed before your eyes, mingling with the echoes of screams and gunfire.

You jolted awake, heart pounding in your chest, gasping for breath as the remnants of the nightmare lingered like a shadow in the recesses of your mind. Disoriented and trembling, you searched the darkness for a familiar presence, a lifeline to anchor you in the storm.

And there he was, as promised, sitting beside you, his expression one of concern and understanding. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest, offering a comforting embrace that chased away the lingering specters of your nightmares.

"It's okay," he murmured, his voice a soothing melody in the stillness of the night. "You're safe now. I'm here."

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, seeking solace in the warmth of his embrace. His steady heartbeat echoed in your ears, a steady rhythm that calmed the storm raging inside you.

As the minutes passed, the panic began to subside, replaced by a sense of peace that washed over you like a gentle tide. With Leon by your side, the darkness held no power over you, its grip weakened by the light of his presence.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "For waking you."

Leon shook his head, his fingers gently brushing through your hair in a gesture of reassurance. "You have nothing to apologize for," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

With a grateful sigh, you leaned into his touch, savoring the comfort of his embrace. And as the first light of dawn began to paint the sky in shades of pink and gold, you knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand.

As the world around you stirred to life, a newfound sense of resolve blossomed within you, fueled by the knowledge that you were not alone in your struggles. With Leon by your side, you felt invincible, ready to take on whatever challenges awaited you.

And so, as the day gave way to night once more, you found yourselves drawn to the tranquil beauty of the lake, its waters shimmering in the moonlight like a sea of liquid silver. Hand in hand, you walked along the shoreline, the soft crunch of gravel beneath your feet a soothing counterpoint to the gentle lapping of waves against the shore.

Above you, the stars glittered like diamonds strewn across the velvet canvas of the night sky, their brilliance a testament to the vastness of the universe and the infinite possibilities that lay ahead.

You and Leon settled onto the grassy bank, gazing up at the celestial spectacle overhead, lost in the wonder of the cosmos. And as you traced constellations with your fingers, Leon's hand found yours, intertwining your fingers in a silent promise of companionship and support.

In that moment, as you lay beneath the vast expanse of the heavens, you realized that perhaps the greatest adventure of all was the journey of the heart, a journey best shared with the ones you love.

And with Leon by your side, you knew that no matter where life's path may lead, you would always find light in the darkness, and hope in the embrace of love.

[yellowbunnydreams]

Mechanised Devotion (Part 4) ~Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader~

~You're all so lovely honestly, and honestly I know we are all simping over large hot killer man, but who gives a fuck but it is so fun to write! I hope that you enjoy this part as well, sorry for some more slow burn :). Also, enjoy some animatronic fluff cause why not?~

Tag List!: @ruh--roh-raggy @likoplays

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), afab reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 40's), mention of crimes and violence, blood, mentions of child death (it's FNAF, what did you expect?), past trauma; abusive relationships. Nicknames, degredation.

For the past three nights you had been attempting to call Steve Raglan.

However, it never seemed to go anywhere but to the voicemail, hearing his warm, but tired voice saying to leave a message after the tone and he would get back to you as soon as he could. That felt like an utter lie as you hung up the phone for the fifth time that day to call him. Looking at the clock with somewhat despair as you realised it was time to make the long walk back to Freddy's once again.

Despite what had happened, you had been unable to get ahold of Steve to tell him about it, and the thought of being in that pizzaria filled you with dread. Somehow, you had managed to make it for three more nights, and tonight was your last shift of the week.

You'd figured out a few things since you arrived.

Freddy and the yellow one you recognised as Chica now seemed to be somewhat 'friendlier' than the others. Freddy would move quite early on in the night and had taken to peering into the little window of your office door to make sure you were okay, taking up residence at the end of the hallway and watching as you came in and out. You'd also noticed your drawing you gave to him roughly tacked up behind the stage when you made your initial inspection for the night, which made you smile despite your rapidly beating heart.

Chica seemed somewhat confused at first, she kept dropping off items outside your door like some demented robotic delivery service. Sometimes it was a surprisingly in-date bag of chips, but most of the time it had gone out of date in the nineties. You felt bad, wondering whether it was programming gone haywire.

Foxy remained an asshole, he liked to stare at you through the window and drag the hook along the door, trying to catch the handle and let himself inside. You'd brought one of those sticks that sits under the handle and acts as a heavy duty door stop, which seemed to deter him somewhat, although you weren't sure with how heavy they surely were that it would truly buy you any time if any of them decided you'd met your time.

Sometimes you would draw instead of doing your homework and checking the cameras, placing them against the glass so the animatronics would see. You made a point to keep one of Foxy being mean to you on you incase he lingered too long at your door and you needed to get out for a few moments to use the bathroom. For whatever reason, it seemed to make him move on after staring at it with the one intact eye, eyepatch and ears moving before it was almost like he stomped off in a huff.

You had managed to make the job somewhat easier for yourself, but it didn't mean you wanted to continue working in a restaurant filled with malfunctioning robots with at least a minor penchant for violence.

Coming through the door, you noticed how eerily silent it was. Pulling back the thick red velvet curtain and waving at the animatronics cautiously. You hadn't really seen Bonnie around that much, but you were quick to spot the slight flicker of their lids and a faint creak of limbs as it seemed they powered up, waiting to roam around the open space. You even stopped by Pirate's Cove and opened the curtain slightly, jumping as you found Foxy leant forwards and mouth agape, almost at your head height. Hand over heart as you tried to calm down your nerves, you found yourself breathing heavily.

"Asshole." you muttered, blowing a strand of hair out of your face before you headed to the office again. Planting the door stop under the handle and securing it. Glancing at the monitors as you flicked on the breaker, you gave a satisfied nod as they came on as expected. Sitting at your chair and keeping an intense eye on the animatronics as you waited for them to start their fuckery.

But as the first hour crawled by, you began to worry. Even cautiously peeking out of your door and checking for one of the mascots. Nothing.

Something felt off.

Stepping back into the office, you noticed one of the cameras was down suddenly, making you frown. The cameras were ancient, sure, but you had never seen one receive 'no signal' like that, and part of you wanted to go and check what it was that had made it play up but a creeping, cold feeling in your stomach told you to stay where you were. Safe. Or at least, relatively so.

Steve Raglan, or rather, the man who pretended to be Steve Raglan had slipped inside the pizzeria in the earlier hours of the afternoon. And he had waited oh-so-patiently for his prey to wander in obliviously into his trap. He'd been monitoring you for days, growing irritated as you called and called, but he wasn't about to give you the satisfaction of answering. He knew you would quit before he even had a chance to turn on the charm and sweet-talk you into continuing, and honestly, he was intrigued how you managed to figure out that drawings helped to control the animatronics.

Or it was simply a clever, clever fluke.

But as he ran his gloved fingers over the knife in his hands, he grinned under the mask, none of it mattered in that moment. You were about to be his, and his stupid child had failed in her duties once again. Something pitiful about getting shot on the job and having to take medical leave. His hand automatically moved to where his collar usually covered and thought of the scars that would be there, how painful it had been when they had been inflicted on him so many years ago, but he had managed to go to work the next day still. He blamed Vanessa's mother for her weakness.

Stalking through the blind-spots of the cameras, he made his way towards the office, his footsteps light despite the heavy suit around his body. He felt his heart pounding in his broad chest, and if his eyes were visible, he was sure they would have almost been pinpricks as the adrenaline coursed through his veins. Carefully peeking in, he noticed your intense concentration on the cameras and tried the handle quietly. Pausing as it didn't fall open, confused as to why it wasn't budging. Peering back in, he could just make out the door jam, and this time he really swore. Adrenaline mixing with fury that you would spoil his reveal like that.

Moving away like a shadow, he searched around for an alternative. He was growing impatient. He wanted to break you. The doors were all locked up and he had the key at the moment, you never stood a chance of escaping from him. But there was a begrudging respect that you had managed to think of something so stupidly simple that it never occurred to him.

As he turned the corner into one of the staff corridoors, he spotted a solution and grinned coldly.

You were soon going to be his.

~~ It was around 4am when your head snapped up, looking towards the door as you swore you saw something moving nearby from the corner of your eye. A chill sliding down your spine like an ice-cube as the feeling of being watched suddenly came over you.

Then you heard it, it was faint at first, but grew louder as you paused and tried to place the noise. It was the sound of something heavy moving, but it wasn't like the usual footsteps you heard outside your door when Freddy and Co. moved around, this was something...odd. Echoey almost.

After another few moments, you realised it was definately movement, and looked around for the source, before spotting a vent with the cover missing on the floor next to you. Cautiously, you grabbed your flashlight and knelt down besides it, straining to listen as you tried to think what could be making the noise.

'Probably just a rat.' you thought to yourself. About to stand up before you spotted two white eyes glowing out of the dark, coming around a bend in the vent, moving slowly, painfully forwards with a soft 'shush' of fabric moving across metal.

Hands trembling, you flicked on your flashlight and felt yourself choke on your breath as the yellow and damaged features of an animatronic came into view. The fur matted and slightly broken in some places, eyes half-lidded and blank as they stared at you. crawling itself through the small space towards your office.

You dropped the light and screamed as a distorted laugh emanated from the creature. The man inside the suit savoured the sound with a delighted shudder, his heart pounding harder in his chest as he managed to pull himself out head first into the office. His massive frame slow to rise as he unfurled himself to reveal his nearly 7ft height in the Spring Bonnie costume. Not that you knew it's name. Nor did you really know his.

Scrambling for the door, you tried to prize away the door jam, but your fingers kept slipping and unable to turn it so it could release. Body shaking as your own adrenaline worked overtime to try and help you escape. But a heavy weight against your back suddenly slamming into you took your breath away and left your hands trapped against the solid door.

The pressure moved, and you felt a heavy hand pressing against the back of your neck, pinning you by your throat as you tried to reach back and grip the thick animatronic fingers holding you in place.

At the edge of your vision, you saw the expressionless face with an almost skeletal grin come into view. Those white eyes burning into your mind as you saw the other hand come into view, bringing up a wickedly sharp knife with it. Seeing it, you burst into tears, hot and salty and they streamed down your face and it became hard to breathe from the pressure and as your nose and throat became sticky with mucus. Nails scraping into the fur behind and the wood of the door, feeling splinters ripping up into your fingers as you tried to make your desperate escape.

You sobbed harder as a wheezing laugh came from the suit.

"Such a pretty little cry-baby." The crackling voice cooed, bringing the knife closer and running it across your cheek, making you shake and flinch, drawing a little blood across your skin. You swore you almost felt the thing shudder as it watched the crimson welt up against your flesh, mixing with your tears and dripping off of your chin into the white of your blouse.

The knife moved from your face to your back, running across your ribs and making your heart flutter wildly like a bird trying to escape from a cage, the sharp edge catching the delicate fabric before it sat at the base of your neck, just under its hand, threatening to thrust the tip into your spine and leave you dead or paralysed.

"You almost ruined my fun, little thing," It hissed, coming in closer and watching her expressions with almost a sense of delight about it. The jaw creaking open slightly and turning the grin menacing as it tilted it's head to one side. You swore you almost heard it breathing, like it was smelling your hair as it pressed in close again, the weight of its body against your back and forcing the knife to pierce your skin. It spoke again, low and crackling as if the voice inside was broken. "what did you need a lock for? Hm? Were you scared you'd get hurt?"

The questions were almost mocking, the voice distorting and moving somewhere between all too human and robotic. Sobbing harder as you couldn't find the breath to suck into your lungs. You didn't know that the man behind you was shaking in excitement. From the thrill of having you trapped and pinned, crying so hard you might pass out and already bleeding for him.

Suddenly it spun you around, slamming its large hand across your throat and lifting you slightly, your toes barely able to keep on the floor as your eyes widened in panic. Clutching at the hand and arm as your instincts told you to fight. To survive.

"Fucking answer me when I ask you a question!" It snarled, slamming your head against the door and making you see stars as you gasped for breath. Feeling the back of your head become sticky and warm, running down your back and through the animatronic fingers. Distorting the colour.

"To...To keep freaks...like you.. OUT" you sobbed, shouting as loudly as you could with the metal crushing your windpipe, your foot coming up and slamming against the arm holding the knife. Feeling something crunch under your foot as you were slightly surprised that you managed to bring your leg up that high.

But the thing dropped you, grunting as it moved back for a moment. This time though, it brought the left hand up to right forearm and made an all-too-human gutteral scream as it doubled over. You watched in horror as blood poured from between the rotting cracks in the suit, and your face paled as you realised that there was somebody under the mascot suit.

Steve Raglan under the suit was pissed. He had been having such fun making you cry and sob, and he hadn't thought about your legs being free. The pain of the springlocks digging into his arm made his nerves light up, his hand clenching and unclenching as he made sure it could still move. Knowing he was going to have to spend time digging the barbed hooks out of his flesh for hours afterwards. His head snapped back up, intending on killing you for your disobedience.

But your hands had managed to work the door jam and you had made a run for it. Leaving behind all your stuff as you fled the building, not caring to look back or even attempt to grab it as you fled from the psycho in the yellow bunny suit.

Your lungs burned, and your eyes remained misted as you burst into the cool night air outside and continued to run down the main road. You weren't sure where you were going, but it was anywhere, anywhere but Freddy's where those silver eyes watched you with a dark, burning passion as you fled from him.

[trans-shuichisaihara]

it's been a long time since i added any new pieces to my tragedy au, but i've been thinking about Them again so here's a fic

---------

The van shook and groaned as they tore their way through the ruins of what used to be Kobe. Smoke lingered in the air, polluted evidence that the attack on this area had been recent.

Mere hours had passed since they were forced to abandon their home in the face of Ultimate Despair supporters closing in on the area surrounding Kyoto. Kokichi clenched the steering wheel tightly, sharply turning to avoid a fallen piece of rubble. This was such a mess. He almost wished they’d—no. He pushed that thought out of his mind. Things were fine. They had the necessities and that was all they needed. He repeated that over and over, as if it would block out Kaede’s crying in the back seat.

Miu wasn’t much better. “I just hated it, alright?!” She outright denied every potential new base, taking one look at the setup and deeming it either irreparable or just not good enough.

“If you keep hating everything, we’re going to have to sleep in the car tonight,” he finally rebutted, getting frustrated at her refusal to drop her standards for one whole night.

“I’d rather sleep in the car than some drafty, unsafe pile of crap!”

They continued arguing for a while, before Kaede finally spoke up. “Would you please stop yelling.” Her broken yet firm tone efficiently silenced the two of them—it was a command, not a request.

A long silence hung over them like a guillotine, the reality of their situation looming overhead as that blade might—threateningly. This wasn’t the time for petty squabbling, but there was nothing else they could do either to relieve the fear in their hearts.

“We can’t sleep in the van,” Kokichi finally muttered, squeezing the steering wheel. “And we can’t keep searching forever. We’re going to run out of gas soon.”

Miu leaned against the passenger’s window, hugging her arms to her chest. She let out a huff, her breath clouding the glass before dissipating. Quietly, she responded, “Fine. Just pick one, and I’ll get us some new gas, and we’ll find a better place tomorrow.”

It wasn’t a concession, but it was certainly a compromise. Kokichi knew that Miu was struggling with everything just as much as Kaede was—trying to process that their home was gone, that their parents were dead... Certainly, he held no hard feelings towards her—she was his bestest friend in this whole wide shitty world, after all.

But because he was her best friend, he knew that he had to keep her safe. So, if that meant forcing her to stay put in a shitty ruined building when anything intact would be an easy target of any rioters or followers of Despair, he would do it in a heartbeat.

Ideally, he’d find some place crummy, but not too crummy. Unappealing on the outside, but intact on the inside. Miu wasn’t exactly wrong in denying some of the places they’d looked at earlier, but... Beggars really couldn’t be choosers.

He drove them into a gloomy neighborhood, slowing the car to a crawl. They observed each ruined house in turn, trying their best to ignore the splatters of dried blood on the cracked streets and driveways.

After a few minutes of “window shopping”, Miu sighed loudly. “These all suck.”

In the rearview mirror, Kokichi saw Kaede grimace. “I don’t disagree. There’s a lot of bomb damage in this area...”

“That works out in our favor,” Kokichi pointed out. “If they’ve hit this area, there probably won’t be too many people around, and they probably won’t target this area in the near future either.”

Miu harrumphed. “Stop being right about things. Just find one that isn’t fucked up already.”

Silently, he continued on, and after a few more minutes he found their first candidate in this area. A small two-storied house with an intact driveway, which they pulled up onto before getting out.

“The windows are shattered,” Miu complained as Kaede was grabbing their self defense weapons—nothing special, just a crowbar for Miu, a kitchen knife for Kaede, and a baseball bat for Kokichi.

“Just give it a chance, Miu,” Kaede begged, exhaustion pulling her shoulders downward. Miu frowned, but she complied and said nothing more as they made their way inside through the open front door.

It was dark inside, and though he could assume it was pointless, he still tried to flick the light switch to turn the lights on. Nothing, of course—the power grid in this area was probably long gone, annihilated in the destruction of Kobe. Reluctantly, he flicked on his flashlight, and Kaede did the same with hers.

“I’ll check the security of the first floor,” he decided, his voice firm as he made the call and continued delegating tasks, “Akamatsu-chan, check and see if the upstairs is intact. Iruma-chan, see if the garage has space and opens—if we can get the van hidden away, and the building is stable, this’ll have to do.”

Kaede nodded, while Miu gave him a shrug, again commenting, “The windows are busted; that’s a major weak point.”

Kokichi couldn’t disagree there. “Yes, but if we can lock and barricade the doors, some broken windows aren’t going to be that big of a deal. It might even tell others that this place is useless—no one would camp out in a house with broken windows, yeah?”

Again, Miu shrugged, but she seemed to accept his response as she wandered off towards the logical location of the garage, opening a door before flicking on her flashlight. It seemed to be it, as she walked through the door and started looking around.

“I’m going upstairs; be careful around the broken glass, okay?” Kaede gave him a smile before going off on her assignment, the stairs creaking as she walked up them. Kokichi watched her go, before silently beginning to patrol the first floor.

The windows in the front were shattered, but the side and back ones were still intact. The doors themselves were untouched, aside from the wear-and-tear one would expect on a home that had been lived in for many years. There weren’t any unpleasant smells, aside from spoiled food in an unpowered fridge. It looked a bit battered from the outside, but overall it was in relatively good shape.

Whoever lived here must’ve met their unfortunate end elsewhere, or fled. Hopefully it was the latter.

Miu returned from her search first, hands on her hips as she announced, “I think we can fit the car in; we’ll have to move a few things, but I was able to get the door open manually.”

He gave her a smile and decided to tease her. “I’m so glad that wasn’t too much for your itty bitty piggy brain to figure out!”

Somehow his response seemed to surprise her, and it took a moment before she pushed him by his shoulder in retaliation. “You lil shit, you think now’s the time to be flirting with me?” She stuck her tongue out at him, and his smile turned into a mischievous grin.

“Me, flirt with you? Wow, someone’s getting haughty!” He stuck his tongue out at her cheekily. “I thought the smell in here was coming from you, and I’m not into pigs that roll around in the mud!”

They poked and prodded at each other while they waited for Kaede, but after a few minutes, their bantering simmered and slowed to a stop. They stood in tense silence, Miu’s brows furrowed as she looked at the stairs. Kokichi looked as well, both of their minds in sync.

“She’s taking a while.”

“Yeah.”

Miu shifted in place. “You didn’t hear anything weird?”

He shook his head. “It’s been quiet.”

“... Maybe she’s just being really careful.”

“Maybe.”

The way the staircase loomed in front of them was starting to become unbearable. Finally, Kokichi scoffed and, without announcing it, he started towards the stairs.

“H-Hey, wait up!” Miu was at his heels as he ascended the stairs, his footsteps light enough that they made no sound—there was only the delayed creak of Miu’s steps behind him.

There was a murmur of sound on the second floor—voices—and Kokichi’s heart grew fearful and panicked. Quickly, he swerved his head around to pinpoint the location and darted towards a door at the end of the hall.

“What—” Miu started to ask, but Kokichi gave her a stern look and a finger to his lips as he pressed his ear to the door.

“What was that?” an unfamiliar voice asked—a man.

“Hm? Oh, that sounded like Miu; she’s my sister,” Kaede answered. “Ah, I’m sorry, I’m keeping them waiting. C’mon, I’ll—”

Kokichi shoved open the door. The stranger and Kaede both jumped, and Kokichi took advantage of their surprise to run forward and disable the stranger by kicking him straight in the knee.

He fell like a sack of potatoes to his side, shouting out in pain and alarm. “What the fuck?!”

“Akamatsu-chan, hurry downstairs; I’ll make sure this guy doesn’t get the chance to do anything,” he growled, distrust and fear mixing crudely in his heart. His grip on his baseball bat was tight as he shoved the tip of it into the stranger’s shoulder.

Kaede stared at him with wide eyes. “Huh? Ouma-kun, what—ah, no, you’ve got the wrong idea!” She did the opposite as he commanded, instead hurrying to his side and grabbing his wrist. “He’s friendly! He’s in high school, just like us!”

Kokichi took another look at him—true enough, he looked about their age, with dark messy hair and an ugly goatee on his chin. He held his kicked knee and looked up at him with confusion-filled eyes.

He scoffed, looking back to Kaede. “Age and friendliness mean nothing,” he rebutted, twisting his wrist from her grasp. “Don’t forget there were teens in that riot in Kyoto, too.”

Kaede winced and stepped back. “Ouma-kun, I know that.”

“You know this guy?” the stranger asked, shoving at the baseball bat to divert it away from him. Kokichi scowled and aimed it back at him.

“Ah, yes, this is my friend Ouma Kokichi-kun—” Kaede introduced.

“Akamatsu-chan,” he hissed at her, “Don’t be so casual with giving out our names to people!”

“Ouma, huh?” the stranger repeated without bothering to use any honorifics. He inched back enough that he could stand up again, massaging his knee. “C’mon, I swear I’m not gonna hurt you guys; I was just tryin’ to bunker down for a while, and then Akamatsu here walked in.”

“Well, this is our place!” Kokichi declared, looking back to Miu. “Isn’t that right, Iruma-chan?”

“Huh?!” She blinked at him, before scowling. “Well, yeah, of course! I don’t want to go looking for another place when this one is actually decent!”

“Ouma-kun, he was here first,” Kaede chided. “But even so, he said it was okay if we bunkered down here for the night with him.” She turned to the stranger. “Right, Momota-kun?”

“Momota” hesitated. “Uh, well, yeah. I did say that...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But this Ouma guy here doesn’t seem to want to play nice...”

“Of course not! Playing nice with strangers is a sure way to get stabbed to death while we sleep!” he retorted. “No one would be stupid enough to share a living space with a total stranger in this nightmare!”

Both Momota and Kaede were silent. Miu crossed her arms, frowning.

Receiving no response, Kokichi pushed forward. “It’s three against one, and so you gotta leave,” he declared.

Momota’s jaw fell. “Don’t be stupid—and selfish, for that matter! I was here first!”

“Ouma-kun, I’m certain about him being safe,” Kaede insisted, putting herself between the two again. “If something happens, it’ll be my fault, okay?”

He glared up at her. “And if he hurts you or Iruma-chan? What then?”

“I’m not going to—!” “He’s not going to—!” Momota and Kaede said at the same time, before looking at each other. He gave her a nervous grin while she quietly laughed.

“Oh no, no you don’t!” Kokichi shoved his way past Kaede, stomping up to Momota. “Listen here, mister! You better not touch Akamatsu-chan, or Iruma-chan and me are gonna let you have it! I know she’s a total catch and all but she’s got super high standards and you certainly aren’t enough of a catch to be worth reeling in!”

Momota’s eyes widened and he gasped like a fish, stammering out, “No, it’s not like that! I’m not gonna do something like that, I just was being nice ‘cause she was being nice—”

“Aha! The victim blaming type!” Kokichi shoved his finger into Momota’s chest. “I’ve got you read like a book. Yup, I’m gonna keep an eye on you—and in the morning, you better leave, got it?”

“Ouma-kun...” Kaede sighed, bringing a hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry, Momota-kun. He’s normally not like this...”

Momota grimaced. “I sure would hope not, or else I’d wonder why you’re friends with a guy like him...”

Kokichi huffed. “I’ll have you know I’m a much better choice as a friend than you would ever be, thank you very much.” He walked behind Momota and roughly shoved him towards the door. “Anyway! This is our room now! Go find a different room—and then tomorrow, you better leave! I’m serious!” he demanded and reiterated, even as Momota protested.

Yes, it would all be better once they got this stranger out of their hair.

(Little did he know, this stranger named Momota Kaito wasn’t going anywhere.)

[ornii]

Arcane Chapter 3

Forgive me… Powder…

"Ever wonder what it's like to drown? Story of opposites. There's peace in water. Like it's holdin' you, whisperin' in low tones to let it in. And every problem in the world will fade away. But then there's this thing..in your head, and it's raging. Lighting every nerve with madness. To fight. To survive.

And all the while, this question lingers before you:

"Have you had enough?"

It's funny. You could pass a lifetime without ever facing a choice like that. But it changes you forever. For that, I thank you...old friend."

"What aren't you telling me?" (Y/n) and Vander walk along the road to Benzo's shop. "I already know you have a deal with Topside Dad..". Vander frowns and shakes his head.

"The Topsiders want their pound of flesh. And if I had to guess, Vi is going to.." Vander says and (Y/n) quickly puts two and two together.

"I'm not letting her give herself up! We have to get to Benzo's!" (Y/n) breaks off into a sprint. The two reach Benzo's shop who seemingly as reached his shop as well. The door was knocked off, The trio open the door to Vi sitting on a chair, pacing in anxiety. She stands up seeing them here.

"Vander? (Y/n). " she asks confused.

"We don't have much time." I'm proud of you. Always have been." Vander walks over, holding Vi. She looks down, somberly.

"I'm sorry, I... This is the only way to protect the others." She says, and (Y/n) steps up.

"You'd leave me like that, like us?" He says, he walks over to Vi, looking into her eyes. Vander comes over, seeing the hurt his his boys eyes.

"You've got a good heart. Don't ever lose it. No matter how the world tries to break you. Protect the family." He says, and Vander hugs Vi.

"What are you..." Vander shoves Vi into the closet, locking her in.

"No! (Y/n)! Vander! Let me out! This isn't right!" (Y/n) listens to her bang against the door, desperately trying to escape. (Y/n) bites his tongue, in dismay listening to VI's pleads of despair. He turns around to Vander.

"Are... you sure about this?" He says, and Vander nods, hugging his son.

"I am, I refuse to let any of you go... you've come so far, and I'm so proud of you...Vi can be hot headed and the others aren't as mature. So I'm leaving it to you, Take care of the family.." Vander says, a few tears pour down (Y/n)'s face as he rubs them away, just then, two enforcers enter the Building, Grayson and the egotistical Marcus.

"I'm guessing that's for me." Grayson says to the pounding on the door, (Y/n) walks over to the door to protect it.

"You gonna let us make the arrest or not?" Marcus says to (Y/n), who stares daggers at Marcus, and Vander lights up a smoke.

"You'll oblige a doomed man one last smoke. Won't you?" He asks, Grayson walks over to Vander, unamused.

"I'm not putting you away, Vander. Without you down here, it all falls apart." She says, Vander motions to (Y/n).

"(Y/n) will handle things. He's my son so he comes with m my devilish charm, and he runs a tight ship." He says. There's silence, (Y/n) forces himself to stay strong. Marcus cuffs Vander, and is lead outside, Vi watches from the green tinted glass in the basement of the figures exiting the Shop. She watches until something happens, she's unable to make it out from the tint but she hears Grayson's voice.

"Hey. Stop right there!" She yells and Vi tries to look closer. Until blood splatters the window in a flash, Vi flies back, mortified. Outside, Graysons stunned corpse lied on the ground, the sizzle of the fired gun rings in distance.

"What the devil..." Benzo says, afraid. The remaining men turn to the origins of footsteps, deep green mist fills the area, and a figure steps out from it, what distincts thus man was the scarring eye he has, sun red with a pupil that's pitch black with the iris like a Solar eclipse. Hiding the true malice and hatred under it. (Y/n) has no clue how he is but Vander does.

"Silco?" Vanders voice was shaky, almost.. afraid.

"You animal. Go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of." Benzo says, grabbing the baton of the dead Grayson and rushes to attack him.

"Benzo, stay back." Vander yells, as Silco calmly turns to him.

"You never did know when to walk away." He says, and In a flash, Benzo was torn into shreds. Blood splatters (Y/n)'s face, he looks around, confused by what happened. (Y/n) watches a malformed monster approach, it's body massive with sickening purple veins pulsating through its body. (Y/n) felt a sickening aura radiate from it. (Y/n) was terrified, afraid, he steps back, as Silco stares at Benzo's corpse.

"Hmm. Stubborn to the end." Silco utters, Marcus looks absolutely terrified.

"What the hell have you done? This wasn't the deal!" He yells.

"Deal's changed." Silco replies coldly, (Y/n) sees the monster close in on Vander, ge didn't know what to do, panicked his legs told him to run, run as fast as he can away... but he couldn't. he grabs the baton and rushes in full speed, he leaps into the air, cocking the Baton back, he was ready to fight to the bloody end, until the monster grabs him by the neck, squeezing tightly, Silco turns to (Y/n), who's gasping for air.

"A Child playing Hero... how.. trivial, it seems you rushed to his Side without any hesitation, you are definitely Vanders son.. but let me give you a word of advice, that nagging feeling in the back of your head, that was fear.. telling you to run and preserve yourself, you should habe listened to it.. because that wasn't bravery, that was foolishness.."

The Monster hurls (Y/n) like a baseball though the window of Benzo's shop, his body crashes through the window, slides along the counter and slams into the wall near the door, and slumps down, the pain shooting through his body was too much for it to take, and (Y/n)'s eyes lower and he collapses unconscious. Minutes, Seconds? Maybe hours have passed, he didn't know. But he simply awoke, pain shoots through his arm and ribs as he stands up, still a bit dazed from the tossing, he stumbles to the door, and opens it. He slowly steps downstairs, leaning on the wall as he turns to vi, sitting there. Her face moves up from her arms to see (Y/n) there, with a few bruises and cuts, she stands up, slowly approaching him.

"I saw everything. Be... Benzo. They..." he says, slowly begging to break down, and this time, Vi holds him, letting him fall apart in her arms.

"What about Vander?" Vi says, he looks at her, sniffling. She wipes the tears from his face.

"I don't know I think They took him." He says, Vi begins to worry even more.

"Where?" She asks, he looks down. Thinking.

"I don't know, there's only one place I can.. think of.." he says, the Fish Cannery, the old decrepit building houses all of Silco's plans. As the large monster was dragging Vander along, the Cannery is full of Sulcos goons, building weapons and producing an odd purple liquid.

"It's a little crude, I'll admit...The base violence necessary for change. But we both know topside won't listen to anything else." Silco explains, as Vander is tossed on a railing

"Even with your monsters, you won't win a war against Piltover." Vander was able to utter from his bated breath.

"I don't have to. I just need to scare them. They won't dare set foot in the underground again." He says, and Vander turns to him, his eye swollen and barely able to see from it.

"You'll get people killed. For what? Pride?" Vander spits blood on the ground, Silco looks at him, a bit bewildered.

"For respect. Opportunity. Everything they've denied us." He says, kneeling down to look Vander in the eye.

"You had my respect. The Lanes' respect, but that...

that was never enough for you." Vander snaps back, and Silco closes in.

"We shared a vision, Vander. A dream of freedom.

Not just for the Lanes, but the whole of the underground, united as one. The nation of Zaun.

Do you even remember? I trusted you. And you betrayed me." Silco's words were full of Venom, resentment and hatred building up. Vander looks regretful.

"What I did to you... I've never forgiven myself. You were my brother." Vander says, somberly, Silco stands up. Reliving that day, Being drowned in the Water.

"No, you still don't understand...Can you imagine what it's like? When your blood mixes with the filth

and the river toxins eat through your nerves. Oh, I hated you for what you'd done. But as time passed, so did my hate. And I was left with an understanding.

The only way to defeat a superior enemy is to stop at nothing. To become what they fear. I hated you, but you kept my respect. Until you made peace with them. Played lapdog after everything we suffered." Silco grumbles, feeling the small sting in his eye.

"..I had no choice." Vander somberly utters.

"Perhaps." Silco tilts his head a bit. "But now you do." Silco shows Vander a Vial of a glowing purple liquid.

"Shimmer. We have the power. We can finally realize our dream, brother." He says, trying to entice Vander, but he cannot agree with it.

"Look at what you've done. Benzo. These kids. My Son.. In fighting topside you'd sacrifice everything that we are. It's not the way. Can't you see that?

Kill me if you have to, but please spare the Lanes." He says, and Silco snaps.

"You'd die for the cause, but you won't fight for one?" He says back, and Vander simply looks down.

"I'm just... not that man anymore." He says, and Silco walks off, heading to a room across the walkway.

"I'll show you what you really are." He says, and has dire intentions for Vander.

Inside the Bar, Claggor, Mylo and Powder are waiting in the basement, probably arguing about something dumb. Before (Y/n) and Vi enter.

"Oh, you're back." Mylo says. The two notice the weaponry they've acquired, which is a Baseball bat and Vanders Cast Iron gauntlets. Vi grabs them and Mylo stops her.

"Hey. Those are Vander's. Slow down. What's going on?" He asks.

"Benzo's dead." (Y/n) says heading to a small hole to grab some gear.

"Dead?" Mylo says, shocked; the group look more hopeless than before.

"They took Vander." Vi adds in. " I need to help him."

"We're going with you." Claggor adds in, and Powder begins to pack. (Y/n) grabs from the hole a piece of steel with a few rivets on it, a makeshift Brass knuckle, and attaches it onto his arm. He turns to the group, as they father whatever they can, and head up, (Y/n) and Vi see powder coming too, but stop her.

"I need you to sit this one out, Powder." Vi says, and Powders determination turns to confusion.

"What?" She says.

"You're not coming." Vi reiterates.

"I'm not afraid." Powder says arguing back. "Families stick together. You said it yourself.—"

"No!" (Y/n)'s voice echoes, and scares powder, he looks shocked himself and sadly kneels down to face powder.

"I'm sorry Powder.. We can't lose you." He says, putting his hand on her shoulder, "Whatever he has is, a lot scarier than any of us can imagine. I promise it'll be okay, and I'll come back with Vander and everything will be okay.. I promise." He says. He gives Powder a small peck on the forehead as he turns to leave, Vi gives Powder what seems to be a flare.

"Here. If they come for you, take this and run.

Where ever you are, light it up, and I'll find you. I promise." Vi says, and the two leave powder. Alone. The group begin their journey to the Cannery, the four slowly maneuver towards the high ground, and slowly drop down into the cannery from a broken window on the roof, they reach the Walkway and into a small room with Vander, strapped to the chair. Vander looks up at the approaching children.

"Vi?" Vander says, "What are you doing here?". More of the group pour into the room.

"We're breakin' you out." (Y/n) says, seeing the locks on the arms and legs of Vander.

"Mylo." He says and he quickly comes in with his lock pick. (Y/n) turns to Claggor.

"Find us another way out of here, it's best if we—" (Y/n) says, until an echo cuts him off, the sound of clapping, it was Silco, with his goons in tow.

"Welcome. You have my congratulations.

But I'm afraid this will be a very short reunion. Have you heard the rumor? Vander the coward fled town with his children. And they were never seen again." Silco says, and the massive tattooed man begins to walks the walkway. (Y/n) steps back, until he turns to his side to see Vi putting on the Gauntlets, he walks over and tightens them for her. She and (Y/n) look at each other, and he smiles just slightly.

"You ready? There's no going back after this Vi.." he says and she nods, (Y/n) picks up the bat and puts it over his shoulder and they walk together to face the Monsters of Zaun. The Large man draws a knife and cracks his neck.

"He's gonna go for a stab, I counter and you land square on his jaw." He says. Vi raises her gauntlets.

"You wanna bet on that?" She says.

"I put your life on it, so I know I'd never be wrong." He says, the man growls and goes for a stab, (Y/n) throws his prosthetic arm in the way, it parries the knife and Vi goes in, and Rocks him with an uppercut the drops the man immediately, (Y/n) picks up his knife and puts it in his pocket. More goons begin to approach and Vi and (Y/n) fight, (Y/n) taking big swings with his bat and Iron clad knuckle, and Vi with her gauntlets. One attempts to go for Vi, (Y/n) slides in, swinging his bat and hitting the goons stomach and Vi coming in with the assist and right hook, A pair of teenagers begin to wipe the floor with grown men and women. One man with a mace attempts to crush (Y/n) he puts the bat up to block but it goes through the Wooden bat and hits him right in the collar bone, he collapses down in pain and Vi comes in with the rescue.

Vi begins to fight off two while (Y/n) writhes in pain, he sees Vi barely holding them off, seeing her in trouble he throws his pain to the side and tosses himself back into the fray. One Cocks back to swing but gets a fist fill of (y/n) iron clad prosthetic fist breaking his teeth, letting Vi dispatch the other.

Mylo looks over to see the two keeping them off, but are being worn down. Vander looks at him.

"Mylo. Take a breath. You can do this." He says, Mylo calms himself and begins again, picking the locks. (Y/n) and vi help each other up, (Y/n) turns to Silco.

"Cmon! That the best you got?!" He yells, Silco motions for Deckard, and he hands him a Vial of Shimmer and he drinks it. And he transforms into the monster (Y/n) saw outside Benzo's.

"...Shit.." (Y/n) says and he charges in, only to get a boot into his sternum. He hits the ground and Vi charges in.

"Mylo, hurry!" Vander yells, while Claggor slams into the wall, breaking it down piece by piece. Vi leaps into the air, only to get her face grabbed by the monstrous Deckard.

"Silco. Let her go! This is between you and me!" Vander screams from his chair, and Silco glares coldly.

"You had your chance." (Y/n) rushes in with his brass knuckle and cracks the monster in the rib with heavy punches, he drops Vi and grabs (Y/n) by the Prosthetic. He begins to crush it, and (Y/n) quickly takes the blade he took and rams it into the wrist of Deckard, who drops him as well, but the damage is done and part of the metal was crushed, he picks Vi up with now his only good arm, and limps away as Deckard removes the blade from his wrist. He fumbles into the room and rushes to the door, he yanks the latch and slams it shut before Deckard could reach them. He locks it and slumps down, exhausted.

"You did good." Vander says, (Y/n) looks relieved by the Door shakes with each punch from Deckard, Claggor picks up the speed, and Mylo has Vander almost free. (Y/n) shakes his head, fearing the end, until Vi pushes back as well, holding the door with him. They push together, desperate to hold him back, all seems to be going well...

"You have to work. For me. Okay?" A girl says, Powder, on the edge of the building, preparing something, a monkey bomb with three of those crystals inside. With spikes on the chimes. She winds it up and drops it into a window and watches it move forward, clanging the spikes into the crystal as it clamors closer and closer to the area, and near Deckard the energy builds up more and more ferocious until it reaches a boiling point. In one last clang, it erupts, the crystals explode in a massive form of blue light, which knocks powder off the building.

It blasts Deckard away, evaporates the arm of one of Silco's goons, one crystal blasts through the door and gets in, and another explosion happens, murdering Claggor, and the crystal touches (Y/n), the energy surges through his body, as he was hit with a wave of it, his arm gets arcs of lightning shot though his prosthetic and up his face, and right into his eye. It demolished the lower body of the building, setting the shimmer aflame. His scream is the last thing that's heard as his body seemingly is warped and disappears, the impact sends Mylo into the wall and a pipe right into his shoulder, pinning him to the wall, he looks over to the corpse of Claggor, barley able to understand what just happened, the roof begins to cave it, and it crushes them both. Vander can only begin to process what's going on, seeing Vi barely able to move and is in pain, tears flowing down her face, Silco recovers from it as well, and points to the door.

"Kill them!" He commands, and the remaining goons follow, and the side of Vander that he kept locked away, erupts, and the Hound of the Underground is prepared to bite once more. Breaking off pieces of the door, he creates makeshift knuckles and starts cracking Skulls, and tosses one man off the ledge and starts to deal with Deckard, until a blade catches him in the back. Silco, as he removes the blade from his back, Vander turns and grabs Silco with every bit of strength he hast left to choke the life out of him. But that strength wavers with the second the second stab enters his body, Vanders body, seemingly gives up, and Silco tosses him off the left.

"I knew you still had it in you." Silco says, and turns to the goons. "Find the girl and that boy.." he says, and continues to focus, Deckard slowly makes his way inside, but a figure yanks him and turns him around, wrapping its hand around its neck and snapping it with ease, the beast tosses his lifeless corpse away. It was Vander, who ingested the Shimmer himself and is a malformed shade of his former self, the mesmerized beast turn to Silco.

"Silco!" His voice roars like a lion in the darkness. But the building was reaching its crumbling point, and he had to make a choice, Silco or Vi, he grabbed Vi before the building could explode and leapt out, as it succumbed to powders bomb. Eventually Vi recovers in the alley to a dying Vander, and now she's about to lose everyone. She rushes to his side, As Vanders purple veins begin to lose their light.

"Vander! Vander..." she says, tears forming in her eyes, and his last words echoed deep within her.

"Take care of Powder." He utters, before the light in his eyes.. die. Vi's tears of pain were dubbed by the rain that began to pour, and a voice halts her mourning.

"Vi, it worked!" A voice says behind her, and Vi slowly turns around with her toy, and she looks, stunned.

"What?" Vi was only able to utter, the complete shock of everything is slowly reaching her, and powder couldn't be more proud of herself.

"Did you see me? My monkey bomb finally worked! I did the cogs just like (Y/n) said so! And it worked!" She says, so happy, Vi just simply turns to her, cold.

"You did this? Why? Why did you do this?" She asks, Powder looks confused, until she looks past Vi, the flames, the carnage, Vanders malformed corpse on the ground, Claggor's shatter goggles on the ground. and it all begins to click in her head, she did this, she killed Mylo, Claggor... (Y/n). And it all begins to set into the child's head, she begins to sniffle, tearing up.

"I... I didn't...I was saving you...I only wanted to help." Powder says, barely able to hold it all together, as tears begin to rush down the child's face, as she can only repeat. I only wanted to help.

I only wanted to help. only wanted to..." she says, her

" told you to stay away." Vi says, her emotions coming to a boil, and a hysterical powder cries even more.

"Please. Please. Please..." her voice shaking, shattering as she pleads with her sister.

"I told you to stay away!" Vi snaps, hitting powder as she falls on the ground, terrified.

"Why did you leave me?!" She screams, and Vi grabs the girl by the face, yanking her in close.

"Because you're a jinx. Do you hear me? Mylo was right." We're her final words to her sister before leaving. Powder falls back, watching the last family member she has left, abandon her.

"No. No. No. Violet, please! Violet, please!

Please come back! Please, Violet. I need you. Please!"

But her cries fall upon deaf ears, until a man she's never seen before, approaches the abandoned Powder, and he kneels down, bloody knife in hand.

Silco.

"Hello, little girl...Where's your sister?" He asks, and Powder looks up to him, and leaps into his arms, crying harder.

"She left me...She is not my sister anymore." She says, Silco was stunned, not really knowing how to respond, and he simply.. Holds her.

"It's okay...We'll show them. We will show them all."

Darkness, a void of senseless and emptiness, the dark only adorned by stars from a cosmos long forgotten to humanity, (Y/n) opens his eyes, and he sees a forest green trees, grass, but no light.. as if he's.. not on earth, his body in tatters from the fight. He attempts to stand up, but is barely able to make it a few feet before collapsing to his knees, he crawls to what seems to be a cliff, as he peers over it, he see the world is nothing, darkenss. And small islands that seem to be floating in the dark, and he's on one of them, he looks around. He's on a floating island in, some void.

"Vi? Violet?! Powder?! POWDER! CLAGGOR! DAD, Mylo?.." he yells,

But no one can come to save him.. he realizes that he's not in Piltover, not the lanes, he's somewhere you can't get to by normal means. He rolls onto his back, and sees his Prostetic has been burned with arcs of blur electricity that seems to be not normal, he feels the pain along his face as well... whatever happened to him, was permanent. He extends his prosthetic arm to what he might think is the sky, and sees one of powders drawings on it. The tears begin to flow as he cries, having lost.. everyone.

"Powder I.. I..."

"I'm So Sorry.."

[viilpstick]

"This year, mark my words, neither of you will dare forget about Claire's birthday again," Vil warned Ace and Deuce, still fuming over their oversight from last year. Despite Vil not knowing Claire before her birthday last year, he found the idea of her friends forgetting it outrageous.

"We didn't knew! She never told us- She didn't even told Grim!" Ace attempted to argue with Vil, but his efforts were met with nothing but a darkened glare.

"I do not care what your excuse is." He sighed.

Vil turned his gaze to the window, his mind consumed with thoughts of Claire. He wanted, even prayed, that tomorrow would be a day solely dedicated to her happiness. With a sense of certain despair lingering in his heart, he hoped he could make her enjoy celebrating her birthday for at least this once.

"So, let me get this straight," Deuce began. "We have to keep her occupied elsewhere for as long as possible, so you can set up the decorations with Rook, Cater, Riddle, and the others for her surprise birthday party?"

"Exactly. But tomorrow, make sure to still wish her a happy birthday. Pretending to have forgotten wouldn't be wise," Vil replied, turning his body to face the duo squarely. "Do you both understand?"

They both nodded in agreement. Everything just needed to go according to plan.

Rising early from her bed, Claire embarked on her usual routine. She got up, began her classes, hoping that no inconveniences would disrupt her day, and looked forward to possibly meeting up with Vil later on. Then, she anticipated, she could finally rest once again.

She reached for her phone, intending to check the time, but as the screen illuminated, she realized— today is the day of her birthday.

Surely, nothing would interrupt her routine because of it.

"Claire! I remembered!" Grim exclaimed, waking up in an instant. "It's your birthday! Happy birthday, Claire!"

Claire chuckles a bit. Nothing will, hopefully, change her routine.

"Thank you, Grim. Just let not make a great neither big deal out of it. Okay? Grim playfully pretended to zip his mouth shut. "Again, thank you. You didn't had to, but I appreciate it."

As lunchtime approached, Claire found herself relieved that no one seemed to be acting suspiciously around her.

"Dearest," a voice behind her made Claire flinch, and she quickly turned to see who it was. "Happy birthday, Claire," Vil said with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting his genuine affection for her.

"How-"

"Bold of you to assume your own boyfriend wouldn't know such a thing."

"Still, I never told you..."

Claire chuckled shyly as Vil took her hands, placing a tender kiss on her knuckles. A gentle warmth spread through her at his affectionate gesture, her cheeks darkening to a deeper shade of red.

"I have my ways." He responded with a gentle smile, his eyes filled with fondness as he looked at her.

"Well, thank you, Vil."

"No need to thank me."

After lunch, Claire found herself with some free time on her hands. All the classrooms were filled with students attending their courses, and there were no available classes for her to take. The only options were practical magic and conjuration, where she would likely just sit around doing nothing. At least outside of class, she could read a book. Or so she thought, unexpectedly caught off guard by Kalim.

"There you are! Claire!" He jumped on her, almost making them both fall down. "Happy birthday!"

It was understandable that Vil would know her birthday, being her boyfriend, but the fact that Kalim also seemed to be aware of it was a bit surprising to Claire. She couldn't help but wonder how he found out.

"Why, thank you- But, how did you..."

"Kalim! Back to class!" Crewel's voice cut through the air, tinged with anger, as he swung the door open. Seeing Claire's figure his expression softened. "Happy birthday, pup."

"What-"

"-Have a good day!" Kalim goes back inside the classroom.

The sudden interruption left Claire feeling confused and almost overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events. Claire struggled to articulate her feelings, but deep down, she knew she wasn't quite liking with the situation unfolding around her.

With some time still left on her hands, Claire decided to make a visit to Sam's store. After all, in any moment, Grim's tuna was going to end.

As Claire browsed the items on the shelves, humming a soft tune, Sam suddenly appeared behind her.

"Why, hello!" he exclaimed cheerfully.

"Hi, Sam. I didn't see you; I thought you might be restocking..."

"If it isn't the birthday girl herself!" Sam interrupted with a flourish of jazz hands. "Happy birthday, Claire! You know, just for today, I can give you an extra discount on the tuna, and-"

"No." She interrupts him this time. "I am sorry, I just feel like it's just a birthday. I don't understand why people make this a big deal." Claire furrowed her eyebrows, not knowing how to explain what was causing her to get so upset.

"My apologies," Sam muttered softly, sensing Claire's discomfort.

"I—" Claire glanced at the clock. "Thank you, I'll just go."

With a nod, Sam watched her leave, feeling puzzled by her unusual behavior.

As the day finally came to an end, Claire took a deep breath, resolving to head to Ramshackle before anyone else had the chance to wish her a happy birthday or engage in any further unexpected interactions.

But, of course life wasn't going to play easy with her.

"Floyd! Put me down."

For, Claire is now getting kidnapped by Floyd and Jade who are taking her to the Mostro Lounge.

"But, shrimpy! It's your birthday, we can't just let you go without showing you what Azul has to offer." He giggled looking behind to his brother. "Ne, Jade?"

"My brother is quite right Claire." Jade nodded in understanding, but Claire couldn't help but sigh, feeling her impatience growing with each passing moment.

Forced to sit down in the VIP room, Claire anxiously awaited Azul's arrival, her mind racing with anticipation and uncertainty.

"First of all; happy birthday, Prefect," When Azul finally arrived, his words triggered an instant reaction from Claire, causing her emotions to surge forth in response. "Second of all, as a birthday gift we have an perfect offer that-"

"I don't care!" Claire exclaimed, rising to her feet with a mixture of anger and anxiety evident on her face. "Why does everyone make such a big deal about birthdays? I've spent so long treating this day like any other, and now suddenly everyone decides birthdays are important?!" Her words carried the weight of pent-up frustration and confusion, her voice trembling slightly with underlying nerves.

She left the room in embarrassment, her cheeks flushed with emotion, unable to bear the intensity of the situation any longer. Trying to hold back tears.

"We were supposed to make her loose more time with us..." Whined Floyd.

"Don't worry," Azul commented, adjusting his glasses with a calm demeanor. "She inadvertently provided key information about why no one knew about her birthday before."

"Has she?" Floyd raised his eyebrow.

"Call the House Warden of Pomefiore."

Opening the door of Ramshackle, Claire felt exhausted and overwhelmed. Yet, as soon as she stepped inside, she was enveloped in strong arms, the embrace comforting and reassuring. Whispered words of comfort washed over her, easing some of the tension that had built up throughout the day.

"Vil?" She asked confused.

"I am so sorry, Claire, I..." He let's her go. Then she could see what was behind him...

The decorations weren't quite ready yet; the only things on the table were some buttery biscuits and a cake that wasn't even finished. It was a plain vanilla cake adorned with scattered blueberries, awaiting its final touches.

Everyone was present, but instead of happiness, an air of shame seemed to hang over them. Claire couldn't understand why.

"Vil and I thought you would like to experience a birthday with us… We just didn't anticipate it would become so overwhelming to arrange—Not that you're ungrateful!" Cater attempted to explain, his words tinged with a mix of apology and frustration for putting his friend through such a horrible day.

"Is…" Claire trailed off, a sadness creeping into her voice as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I just never saw my birthday as something special, so, seeing you all trying to make it be…" Her words faltered, her emotions too complex to articulate fully.

“Darling…” Vil sighs.

"I will have you know, why should all the other birthdays be special, yet yours not be, Claire?" Riddle questioned, his tone gentle but firm, as if urging her to reconsider her perspective.

“Well-“

"Your birthday is important because we care about it. We care about you," Deuce expressed, his smile fleeting as he turned to meet her gaze with a soft and sincere expression.

“I-“ Claire tried to stay calm instead of crying infront of others.

“I spent most of my time in the kitchen this morning to do your birthday cake, this wouldn’t be something I would do for anyone… Unless you pay me and I am at the bakery.” Trey chuckles scratching the back of his neck.

“It ain’t too much, but when we been to Harveston you mentioned to find those blankets really cozy, so I brought you one. Made by my grandma!” Epel proudly says.

“You do realize, my gift for you is an discount at the Mostro Lounge? For who else would I give it?” Questioned Azul.

Claire smiles holding back her tears shyly at the situation.

“You… Thank you, everyone. I just didn’t-“

“-Knew you would be this important? Of course you are?” Cater says.

Claire smiled, wiping her tears gently, feeling the warmth of an extra jacket being draped over her shoulders. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes of the care and support surrounding her.

"Better to find out late than never, isn't it right?" Vil asked, presenting her with a white birthday jacket handmade by him. "Shall we start everything?" His words carried a sense of warmth and reassurance, inviting Claire to embrace the moment and enjoy the celebration that had been prepared for her.

Claire nods with a smile.

“Yes, let’s go.”

Part 1. | Part 2.