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d1stalker · 4 months ago

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This is Ours [Logan Howlett]

Summary: It's your first time back at your grandparents' farm in years, and while many things are the same, one thing is not: they've hired a new farmhand.

Warnings: fem!reader, SMUT, sexual tension, angst, fluff, lots of feelings WC: 18.8k - MASTERLIST

A/N: apologies for dropping another long fic but i literally could not stop writing the juices were flowing. i really hope you enjoy this! i think its my fave so far :)

----

For as long as you can remember, summers were synonymous with your grandparents' farm. It was a tradition, one you held close to your heart. To you, your time there embodied your entire childhood—days spent under the sun, where the air was thick with the scent of wildflowers and the soothing chorus of cicadas filling the long, golden afternoons.

Mornings began early, with you bounding downstairs to join your grandparents for breakfast. The kitchen was always filled with the comforting aroma of fresh coffee and pancakes. Your grandfather would be at the table, engrossed in his newspaper, while your grandmother hummed softly as she cooked, the sound of the morning radio playing faintly in the background. Your days were spent exploring the fields, helping with the chores and horses, or sitting on the porch with your grandmother, listening to stories from her youth.

It couldn’t get any more perfect than that.

But as the years passed, things changed. After you graduated high school, the summer visits became less frequent. University took up more of your time, and you were always busy—first with classes, then with internships, and finally with starting your career. The farm, once the centre of your world, became a place you could only visit if you were lucky, and even then, it was never for long.

You miss it.

This year, however, things were different. You found yourself in between jobs, with the first real break you’d had in what felt like forever. And when the moment the opportunity arose, you knew exactly where you wanted to go.

—

The drive to your grandparents' farm is a journey into the past. The country road, lined with trees that stretched out like old friends, brings back a flood of memories from your childhood: where you’re sitting in the back of your parent’s car vibrating with excitement. You pass the same fields, still as vast and green as you remember, dotted with flowers swaying gently in the breeze, and the old oak tree where you used to swing as a child stands tall, its branches reaching up to the sky as if welcoming you back.

When you finally pull up to the farmhouse, the sight of it fills you with a deep sense of nostalgia. The white paint is more chipped than you remember, the porch sags a little more in the middle, and you can tell that it’s been a while since the grass was last trimmed.

Stepping out of the car, the screen door squeaks open, and there’s your grandmother, standing on the porch, wiping her hands on her apron. She’s smaller than you remember, more fragile, but the smile on her face is the same—warm, welcoming, and full of love. “There’s my girl,” she calls out, rushing down the steps and into the driveway as fast as she can.

“Grandma!” you exclaim, hurrying toward her to wrap her in a hug.

She pulls back to look at you, her eyes twinkling despite the lines of age etched on her face. “You’ve grown even more beautiful, but you look tired. We’ll fix that with some good meals, won’t we?”

You laugh, nodding. “I missed your cooking.”

“And I missed having someone to cook for,” she replies with a chuckle, patting your cheek. “Come inside. Your grandpa’s been counting down the days until you got here.”

You grab your suitcase from your car and follow her into the house, the familiar scents of fresh bread and old wood enveloping you the minute you step inside. It’s just as you remember—cozy, lived-in, filled with the glow of years worth of love and memories. Your grandfather sits at the kitchen table, a pair of reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he reads a book. He looks up as you enter, and the moment he sees you, his face breaks into a wide grin.

“There’s my favourite farmhand,” he jokes, letting out a grunt as he places one hand on the table, slowly pushes out of his chair.

“Grandpa,” you say, meeting him halfway for a hug.

“Got here just in time,” he says with a wink. “Plenty of work to do, you know.”

“I figured,” you reply, playfully nudging him. “I’m ready to get my hands dirty.”

“Good to hear,” he says, leaning back against the table for support. “This old back of mine isn’t what it used to be.”

Your grandmother sets a glass of lemonade in front of you and sits down, her eyes flicking toward the window. “We’ve had to make some changes around here, sweetheart,” she begins gently. “Your grandpa and I… well, we can’t do as much as we used to.”

You hum, listening carefully. Seeing your grandparents grow older is difficult—it's a constant reminder that time is slipping away, and the moments you have together are becoming more precious with each passing day.

“We’ve hired some help,” she continues. “A man named Logan. He’s been a blessing, really, taking care of the heavier work. But he’s… well, he’s not much of a talker.”

“Logan?” you ask, glancing out the window.

That’s when you see him. Tall and broad-shouldered, he is out by the barn, carrying some hay. He’s wearing a worn-down flannel with jeans, and his dark hair is slightly tousled. Even from a distance, you can tell he’s strong—he looks like he knows what he’s doing.

“Yeah, Logan,” your grandfather confirms. “Keeps to himself mostly, but he’s get’s the job done. Don’t mind his gruffness; he’s just not used to people fussing over him.”

“He’s been here since last spring,” your grandmother adds. “We needed the help, and he needed the work. It’s been good for both sides. You should go and introduce yourself after you unpack, dear. Maybe get in some work before we sit for dinner later.”

Nodding, you walk up the stairs in the house and make your way to your room. It looks exactly the same as the last time you saw it. Your old stuffed animals are organized neatly on the shelf above the bed, and the quilt your grandmother made for you, with patches of faded fabric from old dresses and curtains, is spread across the bed the exact same way it’s always been.

The posters on the walls, the little knickknacks on the dresser—everything is a snapshot of your younger self, preserved in this room like a time capsule. It’s comforting, but also a little bittersweet, a reminder of how much time has passed since you had last visited.

After a few moments of reminiscing, you stand up and begin unpacking, carefully placing your clothes in the old wooden dresser. Each drawer creaks as you open it, the sound a part of this room’s charm. You smile as you come across some of the little treasures you left behind—a pressed flower between the pages of an old book, a seashell from a family trip to the coast, and last, a picture of you and your grandparents taken one summer when you were about ten.

You’re standing between them, beaming with a toothy grin, their arms wrapped around you in a warm embrace. The three of you are standing in front of the barn, with the sun setting behind you. You can almost hear your grandmother’s laugh as the camera clicked, your grandfather’s playful grumbling about having to pose for ‘just one more picture.’ The photo captures a moment of pure happiness, a snapshot of a simpler time.

Setting the photo down, you quickly begin to change into your designated farm clothes, and head out to meet the new face around here.

The trek to the barn isn’t very long, just a few minutes away from the main house, and from the outside, you can hear the familiar sounds of work—footsteps crunching on the hay-strewn floor, the creak of wood as something heavy is moved. You pause at the doorway, taking a moment to observe him before stepping inside. He’s focused, his movements efficient as he lifts another bale of hay and stacks it with the others.

You take a deep breath, and step into the barn. “Logan?” you call out softly.

He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, but with a slight pause and glance over his shoulder, his eyes, sharp and intense, meet yours, and there’s a moment where you’re not sure what to say. “I’m—”

“I already know who you are,” he grunts, cutting you off.

His abruptness catches you off guard, but you quickly recover, nodding. “Right. I guess that makes sense.”

“If you wanna help, there’s a broom in the back shed,” he continues, going back to his work as if the conversation is already over. “You could sweep up the hay.”

You bristle, a little surprised at how quickly he dismissed you, but you’re determined not to let it rattle you. After all, your grandparents did warn you that he wasn’t much of a talker. “Sure,” you say. “I can do that.”

As you turn to head toward the back shed, you find yourself lightly imitating his gruff tone under your breath, a flicker of irritation running through you. “There’s a broom in the back shed. Yeah, obviously, I know where the broom would be,” you mutter.

In the shed, the broom is in fact, exactly where you expected it to be, and you huff, grabbing it and walking back to the barn. When you return, Logan is still hard at work, stacking the hay, and doesn’t bother to acknowledge you yet again. You set to work sweeping, the rhythmic motion of the broom soon lulling you into a steady state. The barn is quiet, save for the soft shuffling of hay under your broom and the occasional grunt from Logan as he moves the heavy bales.

Time seems to pass slowly, the light outside growing softer as the sun dips lower in the sky. You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you barely notice when Logan’s footsteps stop. It’s only when his voice breaks the silence that you’re pulled back to the present.

“Your grandma called for dinner,” he says, causing you to jump a bit at the unexpectedness of his voice in the silence. Before you can respond, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with the broom still in hand. You let out a small sigh, feeling the tension in your shoulders. This is going to be a long few months, you think to yourself as you return the broom to its usual place and jog back to the farmhouse.

Inside, the kitchen smells like a warm hearty stew. The table is already set, the familiar blue-and-white checkered tablecloth in place, and your grandparents are seated, chatting quietly as they wait for you and Logan to join them.

You slide into the seat across from your grandmother just as Logan walks over from the sink, two glasses of water in his hands. He places one in front of you with a quick nod, and the other at his own seat, beside yours.

“So,” your grandmother says, her eyes shining with curiosity as she looks between the both of you. “I take it you’ve introduced yourselves to each other?”

You hesitate momentarily, your mind flashing back to your brief encounter in the barn. “Yeah, we have,” you reply, managing a smile, if you can call it that.

Logan doesn’t say anything, his focus on the bowl of stew in front of him. He doesn’t seem interested in joining the conversation, which only adds to the growing sense of awkwardness you feel. You glance at him briefly, wondering if he’s always this closed off or if it’s just his way of dealing with new people.

“Well, that’s good,” your grandmother says, either oblivious to the tension or choosing to ignore it. “Logan’s been a big help around here. We’re so grateful to have him.”

Your grandfather hums in agreement, scooping a spoonful of stew into his mouth before adding, “He’s got a strong work ethic. Doesn’t shy away from the tough jobs, that’s for sure.”

Nodding along, you feel the pressure to say something positive. “That’s great. It’s good to know the farm’s in good hands.” Even thought the words are definitely a bit forced, you mean it.

As the conversation continues, your grandparents shift the focus to you, asking about your job search and what you’ve been up to since you last visited. You give them a brief rundown of the interviews you’ve had, the options you’re considering, and the challenges you’ve faced. You try to keep it light, not wanting to worry them with your uncertainty, but you can’t help but notice the man’s presence beside you, still silent.

At one point, when you’re talking about finding a new apartment, you hear him let out a quiet scoff, and you cast a look over, catching the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. It’s gone almost as quickly as it appears, but it’s enough to make you pause. You want to ask him what that was about, to challenge him on whatever it is he’s thinking, but you bite your tongue. This isn’t the time or place, not in front of your grandparents who are just happy to have everyone around the table.

They continue to chat with you, asking more about your plans and offering their usual words of encouragement. When dinner finally wraps up, your grandmother insists on cleaning up, waving you off when you offer to help. “You’ve had a long day, dear. Why don’t you go relax? Logan can help me with the dishes.”

You smile. “Thanks, Grandma.”

He’s already started collecting the dishes by the time you stand up, but it’s like he refuses to recognize your existence, and that pisses you off.

—

The next morning, you wake before dawn, the world still wrapped in the gentle embrace of night, and for a moment, you lie still, listening to the deep, pulsing of the house—the way the wooden floors creak slightly as they settle, the distant sound of the wind rustling through the trees outside. The comfort of knowing your grandparents are asleep down the hall brings a sense of calm that you haven’t felt in a long time.

Deciding to take advantage of the early hour, you slip out of bed, your feet brushing against the cool floor as you stretch, feeling the muscles in your body slowly wake. You dress quietly, pulling on a soft, worn sweater, and pad downstairs, careful to avoid the spots on the stairs that you know will creak.

You move through the kitchen as if on autopilot, your hands knowing exactly where everything is. You set the coffee to brew, and the rich aroma sills the room.

Reaching for the eggs, you crack a few of them into a bowl, and as you’re whisking, you let your mind wander, thinking about how to spend the day. The soft sizzle of butter in the pan gets your attention and you pour the eggs in, watching as they begin to set around the edges.

You pour yourself a cup of coffee, the steam rising from the mug in delicate spirals, and you take a sip, savouring the warmth and flavour hitting your tongue, while your gaze drifts over to the window that faces the back of the farmhouse.

Your grandparents’ own horses, and you recognize some of them from when you were younger. It makes you happy knowing that they’re still being well taken care of. The way the early light touches the land, and the morning dew covers the grass, you can’t help but smile into your mug.

Slowly, you walk a bit closer to the window, eager to take in the view you had been missing all these years, when a figure standing over by the horses catches your eye. It’s Logan, a small surprise given the early hour—you didn’t hear him wake up—but he stands there, leaning casually against the fence, an apple in his hand.

You watch as he holds out the apple to one of the horses, his rough hand moving gently over its neck as it eats. There’s something unexpectedly tender in the way he interacts with the animal, a patience and care that you didn’t expect to see from him, given how he acted yesterday.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out another apple, offering it to the second horse, who hungrily accepts it. You continue to stare at the sight outside. This side of him—so different from the unapproachable exterior he’s shown so far—stirs something inside you, a desire to connect with him, to see if there’s more to him than meets the eye.

On impulse, you quickly turn off the stove, grab a second cup of coffee and some toast you’ve just buttered, and without overthinking it, you head outside. The morning air is cool against your skin as you make your way over to Logan.

As you approach, he keeps his attention focused on the horses. You take a moment, then clear your throat lightly, holding out the coffee with a tentative smile. “Thought you might want some breakfast,” you offer, trying to keep your tone light and friendly.

He finally glances at you, his eyes briefly meeting yours. His expression is just as unreadable his had been in the last sixteen hours you’ve known him, and then he grunts, “Already ate,” and turns his attention back to the animals in front of him.

His curt, and honestly rude rebuffals really frustrate you. It’s not like you’re asking him to wipe your ass after you go to the washroom, so you have absolutely no idea why he’s like this.

“Alright,” you mutter, lips pressed together in a thin line, and turn to head back into the kitchen.

Once inside, you set the untouched coffee and toast back on the counter with a sigh. This is so fucking awkward. You’re going to be spending the next however-many-months with him, and you would love it if you could at the very least, get along. His rough-around-the-edges personality is not making this enjoyable for you, and you’re sure that he probably just see’s you as an annoying nuisance.

And it’s not like you’re ever going to pull this card on him or anything, but you have been here longer than him, despite the fact that he’s acting like he owns the place. You get it, he’s been here for a for a while, and it’s only been him doing the work, blah blah. But you’ve been helping and doing the work your entire childhood—missing a few years doesn’t take away that fact.

With a heavy sigh, you open a cupboard and pull out a plate, scraping the eggs off the pan and setting them on it. Because your grandparents’ are still asleep, all you can do is eat in silence.

—

You’ve decided that today you are going to trim the grass. There’s always something to do around here, and since the long grass was one of the first things you noticed upon arrival, you think it’s best to just get that chore over with, considering how long you know it will take.

Once you’ve finished cleaning the dishes and pan, you go back upstairs into your room and get changed. Today, you put on a long sleeve, and a small vest over top. Your pants are some hand-me-down working pants from one of your older cousins, and you snatch a baseball cap from your closet for when it begins to get hotter out.

Walking to the back shed, you grab some tools for trimming the lawn. A lawn mower, a string trimmer, and a rake for after everything’s been cut. Moving over to the back section of the lawn, you set the trimmer and rake against the barn and start using the mower. It’s the same one your grandparents have used since you were a child, so it’s a reel lawn mower instead of those newer, more electrical ones you’ve seen around the city.

You can’t really complain about it, so you just begin, the steady repetitive action of moving the tool back and forth being somewhat therapeutic. The smell of freshly cut grass begins to hit your senses, and you truly feel at peace.

As the minutes pass, the sun rises higher, its warmth spreading across the fields. You’re completely absorbed in your work, the rhythm of mowing and the occasional chirp of birds the only sounds around you. You’ve missed this. The sounds of cars honking and early morning city traffic has nothing on the serenity of country life.

You’re just completing the first half when you sense movement nearby. Glancing up, you see Logan walking up to you, having grabbed the trimmer. He doesn’t say anything, just starts up the machine and heads over to the next patch of grass within the area.

There’s a brief moment of eye-contact, like a subtle unspoken recognition to the effort you seem to be putting in. He gives you a small nod, and turns to focus on his task. The two of you work side by side, the hum of the machines, the scent of fresh-cut grass, and the warm sun overhead creating a strangely comforting atmosphere.

When you finally finish, few hours have passed, and you walk back over to the barn and grab a lawn bag and the rake. And because Logan’s machine was electric, he seems to have finished his section as well, so you begin raking up all the stray pieces of grass.

You quick to find out how awkward it is to hold the lawn bag open with one hand while trying to rake with the other—the grass keeps slipping out of the bag, and you can’t help but feel a bit ridiculous as you fumble with the task. You scan around, hoping Logan won’t notice, but of course, he’s right there, watching as you flail around.

You feel a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck, but before you can say anything, he steps forward. Like usual it seems, he doesn’t say a word, just holds out his hand as if asking for the rake. You falter briefly, not wanting to seem like you need his help, but at the same time you understand how much more efficient it would be if he joined.

Reluctantly, you hand it over, and he immediately starts working with the same steady efficiency he brought to trimming the grass. With both hands free, you manage the lawn bag more effectively, holding it open as Logan rakes the grass into neat piles.

The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable; instead, it feels like a natural extension of the morning’s work. The sound of the rake scraping against the ground, the rustle of grass being gathered, and the occasional whinny from a horse nearby.

After the last of the grass is finally raked and bagged, you tie off the lawn bag and glance over at him. He leans the rake against the barn wall and meets your gaze. There’s something in the way he seems to stare at you head on this time, rather than just a quick look, that makes your chest fill with satisfaction.

You nod. “Thanks.”

Logan dips his chin in return, then turns and heads back toward the barn. The heat of the sun really starts to hit you now, and you take a peak at your watch, noticing that it’s already lunch time. Knowing that even if you tried to invite him, he’s probably say no, you just walk back to the farmhouse alone.

—

The next couple of weeks unfold in the same way, moving with an almost predictable rhythm. Each morning, you wake before the sun, quietly slipping out of bed while your grandparent’s are still asleep. As you prepare and eat breakfast, you take your usual place by the kitchen window, watching as Logan interacts with the horses.

Then, as the sun rises higher, you head out to begin your chores around the farm. Sometimes, Logan joins you without a word—his presence now a familiar and abating part of your routine—or sometimes, you find yourself working alone, but even then, you know he’s never far away.

You’ve learned to read his silences, to understand that his gruff demeanor isn’t necessarily unfriendliness, but rather his way of navigating the world. And though he doesn’t speak much, his actions have a way of communicating more than words ever could.

One morning, as you’re finishing up breakfast, your grandparents announce their plans to head into one of the nearby cities for the day. “We need to run some errands and pick up a few things,” your grandmother explains, her hands busy packing a small bag. “But we were thinking it might be nice for the horses to get out and see some different scenery too.”

“They haven’t been to the pond in a while. It’s good for them to stretch their legs and take in some new sights.” Your grandfather chimes in.

You nod, smiling at the thought. The pond is a beautiful spot, a peaceful place where the water runs clear and cool, surrounded by tall trees and soft grass. It’s the perfect place to spend a day with the horses. “That sounds like a great idea. I’ll take them out there for the day.”

Your grandmother’s eyes light up as she hands you a basket. “I packed some food and a blanket for a picnic. There are also a couple of towels in case you want to swim. It’ll be a lovely day for it.”

“Thank you,” you say, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind the preparations. You take the basket and head upstairs to get ready, the idea of spending the day by the pond filling you with excitement. It’s been a long time since you’ve been there last.

In your room, you change into your bathing suit, a simple bikini that you’ve always loved for its comfort and ease. You slip on a loose shirt and shorts over it, then grab a few essentials before heading back downstairs. Your grandparents have already left, so you make your way out to the barn to prepare the horses.

As you start saddling them up, you notice Logan nearby, focused on his usual tasks. His presence has become so customary to you that you hardly think twice before calling out to him. “Hey, Logan,” you say, catching his attention.

“I’m heading to the pond with the horses,” you tell him, nodding toward the saddled horses. “Grandma’s packed some food and a blanket for a picnic. There are even towels if you want to swim. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”

He hesitates, his gaze shifting to the horses, then back to you. After a moment, he mutters, “I’ve never ridden a horse before.”

The admission takes you by surprise, and you raise an eyebrow. “Really? But you’ve been here for over a year. I just assumed—”

He shakes his head slightly, cutting you off. “I’ve always just walked alongside them. Holdin’ onto the reins is one thing, but I’ve never actually been on top of one.”

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “That’s okay,” you say gently. “You can still join us. You can walk alongside like you usually do, and tomorrow, if you’re up for it, I’ll teach you how to ride.”

Logan peers at you for a long moment, considering your words. Finally, he nods. “Alright. I’ll come with you.”

“Great,” you reply, your smile widening. “I think you’ll enjoy it.”

With that settled, you both finish preparing for the trip. Logan helps you load the picnic basket, blanket, and towels onto one of the horses. You mount your favourite horse, and gently click your heels into its side, starting the trip as he begins walking, horses in tow, beside you.

The journey to the pond is beautiful. The green trees that frame the pathway, the soft buzzing of nature, the sound of the horses’ hooves. You and Logan exchange a few words, but for the most part, it’s silent.

When you reach the pond, the sight is just as picturesque as you remembered. The water sparkles under the sunlight, the tall trees casting dappled shadows across the grassy bank. You untie the horses, giving them plenty of room to graze and explore, before you grab the picnic basket, while he grabs the towels and blankets. Making your way over to the other side of the creek, you find a nice open patch of grass to set up on.

“I’m going for a quick dip,” you say as you go about stepping out of your shorts. Logan, who is sitting down, looks up, but his eyes seem to stop dead in their tracks when they settle on your body. You swear you can physically see his gaze darken as he takes in the sight of you stripping off your shirt. It’s subtle, but a small shiver runs down your spine at the attention nonetheless.

Without waiting for a response, you turn and and head toward the pond. The temperature is perfect: just cool enough to be refreshing without being cold.

You dive in, the reservoir embracing you as a much-needed relief from the heat. Everything feels perfect—the gentle current against your skin, the refreshing sensation of being submerged, and the weightlessness of floating just beneath the surface.

But when you lift your head out of the water, you and Logan immediately lock eyes.

He’s lying back on the blanket, propped up on one elbow, and his focus is squarely on you. The intensity of his stare is like a physical force, pinning you in place. The world around you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you suspended in time. Your breath catches in your throat, and you can feel a heat build within you, starting in your chest and traveling down, deeper, and deeper…But then, just as suddenly as it began, he looks away, and if you were any closer, you may have been able to spot the red flush creeping up the back of his neck and to the tip of his ears.

The moment is over, but the enduring feeling of it stays with you as you swim back to the shore. Water drips from your body as you step out, and you reach for one of the towels your grandmother packed. Once you’ve dried off, you walk over to where Logan is sitting and drop down beside him on the blanket.

You are aware of eyes on you again, though this time there’s a hesitation in the way they travel over your form, as if he’s trying to be discreet but can’t quite help himself. You pretend not to notice as you reach for the picnic basket.

“I’m starving,” you say, pulling out the sandwiches your grandmother packed. “Want one?”

He nods, sitting up a little straighter as you hand him a sandwich. After a few bites, curiosity gets the better of you, and you decide to break the ice. “So,” you start, glancing over at him, “how did you end up here, working on my grandparents’ farm?”

He takes his time chewing and swallowing before he answers, his eyes focused on the food in his hands. “I was passing through,” he says finally. “Didn’t plan on stayin’. But your grandparents… they’re good people. Needed help, so I stuck around.”

You nod, taking another bite. “They are good people,” you agree, thinking of how much they’ve done for you over the years. “But where were you headed before that? Where are you from?”

Logan pauses for a moment, then looks over at you. “Alberta,” he says. “Grew up there, mostly. Been a lot of places since, but Alberta’s home—or was.”

You smile, finding comfort in the fact that he’s sharing a bit more. “Alberta’s beautiful,” you say, remembering the few times you’d traveled through the province. “Why’d you leave?”

He shrugs, glancing out toward the creek. “Needed a change. Wanted to see what else was out there. Guess I got used to movin’ around, never really settlin’ anywhere.”

You nod thoughtfully, taking in his words. “Must have been hard, never really having a place to call home.”

His gaze meets yours, and there’s a hint of something softer in his eyes. “Yeah,” he admits, his voice quieter. “But your grandparents… they’ve made it easier. This farm… it’s good.”

You smile warmly at him. “I’m glad you’re here. You’ve been a huge help to them. And… well, I’ve liked having you around.”

He glances at you, his expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah, it’s been alright,” he mutters, a small, imperceptible smirk on his lips. You smile bashfully.

The next couple of hours pass by in a blur. Not much conversation happens, but rather, these weird periods of time where you feel as though your eyes are glued to him, and he you. It’s different—unexpected—and to put it frankly, you feel a bit shy underneath his gaze.

Logan is attractive, anyone with eyes could see that, but it really wasn’t just his face that pulled you in, it was him. The way he would silently help you with chores, his soft moments every morning with the horses, the way he subtly looks over your grandparents’ when he thinks they arent watching. All of it. You want to spend more time with him, learn more about who he is, what he likes… all of it.

Soon enough, you both begin to pack up the picnic supplies, load up the horses, and head back to the farm. The horses seem content, having had a fun day grazing and napping by the pond, and you ride beside him as he walks. Every now and then, you catch him peeking up at you from under his eyelashes, his eyes lingering just a bit longer each time.

You can see your grandparent’s car in the driveway as you near the farm, meaning they’ve also returned from their day in the city. Leading the horses back into the barn, the two of you go through the motions of the familiar routine of unsaddling them, brushing them down, and making sure they’re comfortable for the night.

Once they’re all settled for the night, Logan steps back, wiping his hands on his jeans as he looks at you.

“So ‘bout tomorrow…” He begins, shifting slightly, as if unsure how to phrase what he wants to say. “You really think you can teach me to ride?”

You grin excitedly. “Of course. I’ll come out after I’ve eaten breakfast.”

“Alright then,” he says, pivoting toward the doors, his lips twitching just barely, but enough. “Lookin’ forward to it.”

Your fingers are twitching at your sides as you watch him leave. You wait a few moments, then head out as well, closing and locking up the barn for the night. When you step into the house, you find your grandparents in the living room, their faces lit by the soft glow of a lamp as they relax on the chesterfield.

“How was your day?” your grandmother asks, looking up from her knitting with a bright smile.

“It was nice,” you reply. “The horses loved it, and the pond was as beautiful as ever. We had a picnic, and it was really peaceful.”

Your grandfather, who’s been quietly sipping his tea, sets down his cup and regards you with a knowing look. “And Logan? Did he go with you?”

You nod, feeling a bit of warmth rise to your cheeks at the mention of their helper. “Yeah, he came along. He’s never ridden a horse before, so he just walked with us. But I’m going to teach him tomorrow.”

Your grandparents exchange a look, and your grandmother’s eyes sparkle with amusement and something more tender as she smiles at you. “That’s good, dear. He’s a bit of a mystery, that one, but I can tell he’s got a good heart. Sometimes people just need a little time to open up.”

Chatting with your grandparent’s a bit longer, you listen intently as they fill you in on their activities. You can faintly hear the sound of Logan’s footsteps upstairs as he gets ready for bed. The memory of his gaze on you makes your heart beat a smidge faster.

—

Logan is unsurprisingly already at the barn when you arrive the next morning. He’s leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest.

“Morning,” you greet. “You ready to get started?”

Logan glances at the horses, then back at you. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You lead him over to the horses, choosing one of the gentler ones for him to work with, and begin by showing him how to properly saddle the horse, explaining each step as you go. Logan watches intently, though you can see the slight furrow in his brow as he takes in all the information.

As soon as the horse is all saddled up, you hand him the reins. “Okay, now it’s your turn. Go ahead and mount up.”

He wavers for just a moment, his eyes on the horse as if weighing his options. But then, with a deep breath, he grabs the saddle and swings himself up with ease. He sits stiffly at first, his hands gripping the reins a bit too tightly, but he doesn’t look as uncomfortable as you would have expected. Definitely better than your first attempt.

“You’re doing great,” you reassure him, moving to stand beside the horse. “Just relax. The horse can sense if you’re tense, so try to loosen up a bit.”

He takes another breath, visibly trying to relax his posture. It’s clear that he’s out of his comfort zone, but he’s determined to push through. You walk him through the basics of steering and controlling the horse, keeping your tone calm and encouraging.

After a few minutes, you guide him around the paddock, walking alongside the horse to make sure he feels secure. Logan follows your instructions with serious concentration, his movements becoming more and more natural as he gets used to the rhythm of the horse’s steps.

“You’re doing really well,” you tell him, smiling up at him. “Want to try picking up the pace a little?”

He glances down at you warily at first, but then he nods. “Yeah. Let’s give it a shot.”

You guide him through a gentle trot, staying close enough to offer guidance but giving him enough space to figure things out on his own. The horse picks up speed, and you watch as he adjusts, his body moving in sync with the animal’s movements. There’s a moment when he looks down at you, a spark of surprise in his eyes as he realizes he’s actually getting the hang of it.

As the morning progresses, Logan becomes more comfortable in the saddle, his confidence growing with each passing minute. You spend the next hour practicing different techniques, guiding him through turns, stops, and even a slow canter. He’s a quick learner, and despite the initial awkwardness, you can tell he’s starting to enjoy himself.

Eventually, you lead him back to the paddock, bringing the horse to a stop. He dismounts, still a bit tense but clearly pleased with himself. He hands you the reins, his eyes meeting yours with a look that’s both grateful and slightly sheepish.

“Not bad for a first-timer,” you say with a grin, patting the horse’s neck.

He huffs a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… you’re a good teacher.”

The compliment, simple as it is, makes your heart skip a beat. There’s something about the way he says it, the sincerity in his tone, that makes you feel a warm glow inside. He begins to walk toward the back shed, undoubtedly going to start on his morning chores, but you find yourself wanting to hold onto this moment just a bit longer.

“Logan,” you call out, stopping him in his tracks.

He turns back, his eyes questioning.

“Thanks for this morning. I really enjoyed it.”

Logan studies you for a second, then he gives you a small smile. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Me too.”

—

The days come and go, blending into one another as your first month at the farm passes by in what feels like the blink of an eye. The sun seems to rise earlier and set later with each passing day, stretching the hours out in a way that makes everything feel both languid and endless, and the heat only intensifies, something you didn’t think was possible.

Despite the longer days and rising temperatures, you and Logan’s daily routines have now intertwined in a way that feels as natural as breathing. The once solitary moments you spent watching him out with the horses have now become something shared. Every morning, without fail, the two of you meet by the barn, where the horses greet you with soft nickers and eager eyes, ready for their daily ride.

He’s improved a lot. He no longer looks uncomfortable or stiff, and he’s able to guide his horse with an ease that surprises even him. You can see the subtle shift in his posture, the way he holds the reins with a sureness that wasn’t there before.

And just like when you work on the farm together, sometimes, the two of you ride in a comfortable silence—the only sounds being the soft snorts of the horses and the creak of leather saddles. But more often than not, you chat about everything and nothing, your conversations easy and unforced.

Logan, who once spoke only in short, clipped sentences, has begun to open up more, sharing bits and pieces of his past, his thoughts, and his observations about life on the farm. You learn that he has a sarcastic, dry sense of humor, one that often catches you off guard and leaves you laughing in spite of yourself. He even joins you for your usual morning breakfast of eggs and toast, something that started only a few days into your new morning ritual.

Yet throughout all of this, there’s a something growing between you and Logan, simmering just beneath the surface.

It manifests in the little moments, the stolen glances, and the accidental touches that don’t really seem to be as accidental as you may think. It’s in the way his eyes follow you when he thinks you’re not looking, how they intensify when you laugh, or how he seems to fixate on your hands as you work, as if he’s memorizing every movement.

You’re not immune to it either. You find yourself hyper-aware of his presence, the way his proximity seems to alter the air around you. In one afternoon, you’re in the barn, and sorting through a pile of hay bales. It’s hard, sweaty work, but the it’s kind that leaves you with a satisfying ache in your muscles by the end of the day. Logan is beside you, lifting the heavy bales with ease, his shirt sticking to his back, outlining the broad expanse of his shoulders. You catch yourself staring, and quickly look away, but not before he flicks his eyes over to yours.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can see it in his eyes. It’s like they’re telling you that he knows exactly what you were thinking, where you were staring.

And when you’re both tending to the horses, something happens again. You’re brushing one down, your fingers working through its mane, when Logan comes to stand beside you, so close that you can smell his natural musk.

“Here, let me help,” he says lowly, not waiting for a response as he reaches out, his hand covering yours. You glance up at him, and he’s already looking down at you. You’re acutely aware of the feel of his hand over yours, the callousness of his skin against your own, and the way his thumb brushes lightly over your knuckles as if testing the waters.

Another time, while fixing the fence out in the field, you’re both working in tandem, passing tools back and forth. At one point, you reach for a hammer at the same time Logan does, and your fingers brush against his. It’s a fleeting touch, but it feels like a spark in the summer heat, and for a heartbeat, you both freeze, caught in that split second of contact.

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling your hand back, but the apology feels hollow in the face of what you’re actually feeling.

“No problem,” Logan replies, his voice gruffer than usual, as he hands you the tool.

You can feel it. You’re not stupid. You know something is there, and you wonder how much longer you can resist it—how much longer you can pretend that everything is fine. But Logan is a hard man to read, and you’re not sure if what you’re feeling is reciprocated, or if it’s just wishful thinking on your part. So you stay silent, letting the tension simmer, hoping that one day, one of you will have the courage to break it.

—

You’re not the only who see’s it.

“You know,” your grandmother says one afternoon, as you’re helping them with a puzzle. “Logan has really come out of his shell since you’ve been here.”

You blink, and glance over at her. “What do you mean?”

She looks up from the table, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous light. “Oh, you know exactly what I mean,” she says with a knowing smile. “He’s been here for over a year, and in all that time, we’ve never seen him quite like this. He’s always been polite, of course, but distant. Reserved. But now… well, it’s clear he’s become quite comfortable around you.”

Your grandfather places a piece in the board and nods in agreement. “She’s right, you know. Logan’s always been a bit of a mystery, keeps to himself mostly. But ever since you arrived, he’s been different. More… engaged, I suppose you could say.”

You feel a flush of heat rising to your cheeks, your heart skipping a beat at their words. “I-I don’t know about that,” you stammer, trying to brush it off. “We just… work together a lot. That’s all.”

Chuckling, your grandmother leans forward slightly. “Darling, don’t be modest. It’d be obvious to anyone that there’s something going on between the two of you. He’s practically a different man when he’s around you. Why, just the other day, I caught him actually smiling while you two were out riding. I nearly fainted!”

“You’ve managed to do in weeks what we couldn’t do in a year. Whatever it is, it’s good for him. And for you, too, I’d wager,” your grandfather pipes in, sending you a wink.

Fidgeting with your hands, you feel like a deer caught in headlights, and you’re honestly not sure how to respond. “We’re… friends,” you say, though the words feel inadequate even as you say them.

The woman across from you raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Hmm? Well, maybe so. But it seems to me that there’s potential for something more there, if you’re both willing to see it.”

“I… I don’t know,” you mumble, feeling flustered under their scrutiny. “He’s just… he’s a complicated person.”

“Everyone’s complicated, dear,” your grandfather says gently. “But that doesn’t mean they’re not worth the effort. Oftentimes, the best things in life are the ones that take the most time to understand.”

There’s a moment of silence as their words sink in, the weight of their observations leaving you feeling exposed and uncertain. You hadn’t fully allowed yourself to consider what you felt, let alone what Logan felt. But now, with your grandparents’ teasing remarks, it’s impossible to ignore the possibility that there might be something more between you and Logan than just a budding friendship.

Your grandmother reaches over and gives your hand a comforting squeeze. “Just take it one day at a time, sweetheart. Whatever happens, we’re here for you.”

—

The following week, you find yourself itching for something new—a change in scenery. While the farm has been everything you’ve wanted and more, you think it’d be nice to go on a drive, explore a small laketown you used to go to when you were younger. So, one morning, as you and Logan are unsaddling the horses, you muster the courage to extend an invitation that’s been on your mind for days.

“So…,” you begin, trying to keep your tone casual. “I was thinking… maybe we could take a break from the farm this weekend and go into town. You know, just to get out for a bit, see something different.”

He pauses in his work, his hand stilling on the brush as he peers over at you with a raised eyebrow. “The town?” he repeats, as if the idea is foreign to him.

“Yeah,” you say, turning to face him fully. “I need to pick up a few things, and I thought it might be nice to have some company. We could grab lunch, maybe do some exploring… It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Just a change of pace.”

There’s a beat of silence as he considers your offer. His expression is guarded, as always, but you can see the wheels turning in his mind. It’s clear that the idea of leaving the farm, even for a day, is something he hasn’t done in a long time—if ever.

“I don’t know,” he eventually gets out, his tone uncertain. “Busy places are not really my thing.”

You feel a pang of disappointment at his hesitation, but you’re not ready to give up just yet. “I get that,” you say. “But it’s not about how many people are there, really. It’s about taking a break. You’ve been working so hard, and I think you deserve a day to relax. Plus, I could use your help carrying a few things,” you tease, hoping to coax him into agreeing.

Logan’s lips twitch as if he’s suppressing a smile, and for a split second you think he’s going to turn you down. But then he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Alright,” he says, the word coming out almost reluctantly. “I’ll go.”

You beam, unable to hide your enthusiasm. “We’ll leave early on Saturday, okay?”

“Saturday it is,” he confirms.

—

The rest of the week passes quickly, your anticipation for the trip into town growing with each passing day. You find yourself planning out the day in your head, imagining the places you might visit, the food you might try, and most of all, the chance to see Logan in a different environment—away from the farm and the routine that has defined your relationship so far.

So, when Saturday morning arrives, you’re up before the sun, too excited to sleep in. You dress in your favourite casual clothes—something comfortable but a bit more put-together than your usual farm attire—and head downstairs, where you find your grandparents surprisingly already up and about.

“Off to the city today, are you?” your grandmother asks with a smile as she hands you a thermos of coffee for the road.

“Yep,” you reply, unable to keep the grin off your face. “and I’m dragging Logan along with me.”

Your grandfather chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, that should be interesting. Don’t think he’s much of a city slicker.”

“Be patient with him, dear,” your grandmother adds, laughing. “He’s stepping out of his comfort zone for you.”

“I will,” you promise, taking the coffee and heading out the door.

Logan’s already waiting by the truck, and when you see him, you can’t help but falter in your steps. The shirt he’s wearing clings to his muscular frame in a way that draws your eyes, accentuating the strength that’s always been evident. His hair is slightly disheveled, and there’s an almost shy quality to the way he stands there, his hands shoved into his pockets as if he’s not quite sure what to do with them.

You try to hide the fact that you were just checking him out as you ask, “Ready?”

“‘Course,” he replies, climbing into the passenger seat as you slide behind the wheel.

The highways are empty and the sky is clear. You chat easily about the things you need to pick up, the cute boutiques you want to visit, and even a few memories of the last time you visited the place. Logan listens more than he talks, but you can tell he’s starting to relax, the tightness in his shoulders easing as the distance passes by.

When you finally reach the town, the energy along the streets is a stark contrast to the quiet calm of the farm. The buildings tower above you, and the sidewalks are crowded with people going about their day.

Stepping out of the truck, you glance over at Logan. It’s clear that he’s out of his element, but there’s something cute about the way he takes it all in. “Where to first?” He questions.

“Well,” you say, smiling at him, “I was thinking we could grab some breakfast at this little café I know, then hit a few shops. There’s a bookstore I love that I think you’d like too.”

He nods, his expression softening slightly at the mention of a bookstore. “Lead the way.”

You spend the morning wandering around, exploring the shops, and enjoying a nice breakfast together. At the bookstore, you lose track of time, browsing through the shelves and picking out a few titles that catch your eye. Logan surprises you by finding a book on woodworking, something he’s always been interested in but never had much time for. You can see the way his eyes light up as he flips through the pages, and it makes you smile, happy to see him enjoying something for himself.

After spending a few more hours of exploring, you suggest one last stop before heading back—a lookout point that offers a stunning view of the lake and the surrounding landscape. Logan agrees, and you drive up to the spot, parking the truck and leading him to a bench that overlooks the water.

The view is breathtaking. You both sit in silence for a while, just taking in the scenery, allowing the peacefulness of the moment to wash over you. He is staring out into the water with a thoughtful expression when you decide to interrupt his stupor.

“Logan,” you begin, the gentle breeze from the lake rustling through the trees, “what did you think of me when we first met?”

He turns his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of surprise, as if he wasn’t expecting the question. Then he pauses for a moment, looking back out at the lake, as if gathering his thoughts.

“I thought you were different,” he says slowly, each word carefully chosen. “You didn’t act like you were above the work. You jumped right in, got your hands dirty. Most people wouldn’t do that.”

You smile at the memory, remembering how you started working together the moment you met. After all, you weren’t just a visitor—you were there to help, and you knew your way around the farm. “And now?” you ask, your heart beginning to beat just a little faster.

He remains quiet for a few moments, his focus still on the water. When he finally speaks, he’s timid, almost bashful, as if he’s revealing something he’s kept hidden for a long time.

“I think you’re beautiful,” he admits, his eyes flickering back to yours. “I thought that the first time I saw you, too. It was one of the first things that hit me. But it’s more than that. Now… now I think you’re perfect.”

The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Your mouth parts in surprise, and all you can do is gawk, trying to process the depth of what he’s just said.

Logan shifts slightly, his gaze dropping to his hands as he continues. “I was… cold at first,” he murmurs, “Didn’t know how else to act. You weren’t like anyone I’d ever met. I didn’t know how to handle it. But what really got to me was how you didn’t shy away from that—you didn’t let my attitude push you away. That changed somethin’ in me.”

You want to say something—you should say something—to acknowledge what he just said, bearing in mind that was probably the most amount of words to come out of his mouth in one go, but for some reason, you can’t. The only thought running through your head is that you want to reach out and touch him, to close the small distance between you.

“What about you?” His voice is slightly more tentative now, and he definitely just asked that to fill the silence that you were ungraciously leaving. “What was your first impression of me?”

His question snaps you out of your thoughts, and you gulp, now knowing that your first impression of him was very different to his of you.

“Honestly? I thought you were rude as hell,” you say a bit nervously, watching as his eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. “You were so gruff, so serious… I didn’t know what to make of you at first. But then I saw the way you took care of the horses, the way you looked after the farm, and… it didn’t take long for my opinion to change.”

He shifts, clearly caught off guard. You can see the faintest hint of a blush creeping up his neck as he takes in what you said, and it makes your smile widen.

“And…You’re kind,” you continue. “There’s this gentleness about you that I wasn’t expecting.” You suck in a shaky breath. “I think you’re pretty perfect now too, if I’m being honest.”

The tint on his cheeks only deepens, and he looks away, flustered. It’s a rare sight—seeing him like this—and it makes you swoon.

“I don’t know about that…” He mutters, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I do,” you reply firmly. “You’re more than you think you are, Logan.”

The genuineness in your words makes him look back at you, his eyes searching yours for something—reassurance, maybe, or confirmation that what you’re saying is real. Slowly, almost unconsciously, you both lean in closer, locked in a stare, your breaths mingling as the space between you shrinks. You can see the way his eyes flicker down to your lips, and you feel the same pull, the undeniable urge to close the distance and see what it would feel like to kiss him overriding all your senses.

Your chest pounds as you inch closer, until you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. But just as your lips are about to meet, a loud, piercing scream shatters the moment.

You both jerk back, startled, and whip your heads around to see a kid nearby, his face scrunched up in disgust as he frantically wipes at his shoulder. “Ew! A seagull just pooped on me!”

The kid’s parents rush over, trying to console him as they pull out napkins, and you can’t help but burst out laughing at the absurdity of the interruption. The sound of your laughter is contagious, and soon Logan is chuckling a bit too.

“Well, that’s one way to kill the mood,” he mumbles under is breath.

You’re still laughing, the remnants of your almost-kiss still in the back of your mind, but you know the moment has passed. “Yeah,” you agree, trying to catch your breath. “Guess we should be thankful it wasn’t us.”

Logan grins, warm and wide. “Yeah, maybe we should.”

—

Driving back to the farm, neither of you say a word about what almost transpired at the lookout point, and you’re fine with that. There’s no need to fill the silence with words, no need to dissect the moment or what it could have led to. You don’t want there to be any sort of pressure between you, any expectations. Even if, deep down, all you want is to climb him like a tree, to feel the solid strength of him beneath your hands, and to finally give in to the attraction that’s been building throughout your time together.

Pulling into the driveway and shutting of the engine, you turn to him, and turns to you, his eyes meeting yours. “Thanks for today,” he says sincerely “I… liked it.”

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. “Me too,” you reply, your voice just as soft. “We should do it again sometime.”

“Yeah,” Logan agrees, his gaze holding yours a hint longer before he turns away, his hand reaching for the door handle. “We should.”

—

A few days later, as everyone sits around the kitchen table after dinner, the evening suddenly takes on a new tone when your grandmother clears her throat and shoots an exchanges a conspiratorial glance at your grandfather.

“We’ve got some news,” she begins, her eyes shining with excitement. “Your grandfather and I have been invited to spend a week at the Summers’ cottage by the lake.”

You smile, genuinely happy for them. The Summers are longtime friends of your grandparents, and the idea of them getting a little vacation away sounds perfect. “That sounds wonderful! You two deserve some time to relax.”

“Well, we thought so too,” your grandfather says. “But that means we’ll be leaving the farm in your capable hands.”

It takes a moment for the full meaning of his words to sink in. You and Logan… alone… for an entire week.

Your heart skips a beat and you glimpse over at Logan, who’s sitting across the table from you, his expression neutral as he listens to your grandparents. But there’s a quick flash of something that suggests he’s as aware of the situation as you are.

A voice brings you back to the moment. “Now, don’t worry,” she says with a reassuring smile. “There’s not much that needs doing, just the usual stuff. And we’ll be back before you know it.”

Your grandfather leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he scans between you and Logan. “We trust you both to keep everything running smoothly,” he says, before he drops his voice to an embarrassingly low tone. “And to keep an eye on each other.”

You can’t help but blush at his not-so-subtle innuendo, and you quickly drop your gaze to your hands, trying to hide the warmth creeping up your cheeks. The thought of spending an entire week alone with Logan is both thrilling and nerve-wracking. The lack of a buffer—your grandparents—means that literally anything could happen.

“Don’t worry,” you finally manage to say. “We’ve got this. You two just enjoy your time away.”

Logan, who has been uncharacteristically quiet during the conversation, finally speaks up. “Yeah,” he agrees, “We’ll take care of everything.”

—

Over the next couple of days, your grandparents pack their bags and make sure everything is in order before they leave. You help them with the small details, ensuring that the house is stocked with food and that all the usual chores are delegated properly.

Finally, the morning of their departure arrives. You stand by the front door, watching as your grandparents load their bags into the car. Your grandmother gives you a warm hug, “Take care, dear,” she says, kissing your cheek before hopping into the passenger’s seat.

Your grandfather shakes Logan’s hand, giving him a firm nod. “Take care of things.”

He hums. “I will. Enjoy yourselves.”

With that, your grandparents climb into the car, and after a final wave, they drive down the long, dusty road that leads away from the farm.

There’s a pause.

Suddenly, you’ve become extremely aware of how close you two are standing.

“So,” you start, hoping to ease a bit of the electricity beginning to spark. “I guess it’s just us now.”

Logan swallows thickly, his adams apple bobbing up and down. “Yeah,” he replies a bit deeper than usual. “Just us.”

“What should we do first?” you ask as casually as possible.

He shrugs slightly, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile. “Same old, I guess. Can’t let everythin’ fall apart right when they leave..”

“True. Let’s start with that.”

The two of you move into that familiar routine of farm work. Mucking out the stalls, hauling bags of feed from the shed to the barn, tending to the vegetable garden, you do it all. But even though you’re busy with work, there’s an underlying jitter to everything you do, a heightened awareness of each other’s presence that just wasn’t there before. And it’s impossible to ignore. Each time you make eyecontact it feels charged, almost like a promise of what’s to come, and it has your heart racing with exhilaration.

That evening, after the chores are done and the sun has dropped below the horizon, you’re in the kitchen, preparing dinner while Logan finishes up outside. The quiet of the farmhouse feels different without your grandparents there—emptier, yet somehow more intimate. Domestic. You can hear the soft creak of the floorboards as he enters the house, the sound of him washing up in the sink.

And as the evening wears on, you find yourself drawing out cleaning the dishes, not wanting to end the day just yet. Logan stays close, drying the plates and placing them back in the cupboards.

“Long day,” he grunts.

“Yeah,” you agree, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “But it was nice. Peaceful.”

His eyes find yours. “Peaceful,” he echoes, though the word seems to hold a different meaning when he says it.

You both stay there, unmoving, until eventually, he takes a step back, as if sensing that the tension between you needs a moment to cool. “I’ll check on the barn,” he says gruffly. “Make sure everything’s locked up for the night.”

“Okay,” you reply, your voice softer than you intended.

Logan leaves to check on the barn, while he’s gone, your thoughts are a whirlwind of anticipation and nervous energy as you busy yourself with finishing up the remaining utensils.

Finally, unable to stay inside any longer, you decide to step outside, hoping the cool evening air will help clear your mind. You sink down onto the old porch swing, and pull your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you observe the darkened landscape.

A few minutes later, you hear the soft crunch of gravel underfoot, and you glance over your shoulder to see Logan approaching the porch. He walks up the steps and pauses momentarily as if debating whether to join you. Then, with a soft sigh, he settles down beside you, his shoulder just barely brushing against yours.

It’s now or never, you think. “We have the place to ourselves now,” you state.

He turns his head slightly, giving you a sidelong look, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a small, knowing smirk. “Indeed we do,” he replies.

The simple acknowledgment—and the way he says it—makes your pulse quicken, and you can’t help the small huff of exasperation that escapes your lips. He’s always been so tame, so careful with his words, and while you appreciate the way he’s respected your space, you’re done with tiptoeing around.

“Do I need to spell it out for you, or—” But before you can finish the sentence, Logan moves.

His hand reaches out, rough and warm, to cup the back of your head. Your eyes widen, and your heart thuds in your chest upon realizing what’s about to happen. And with a firm but gentle pull, he closes the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours.

You lose track of your surroundings—the night, the farm, everything—as you give yourself into feel of his lips against yours. It’s intense and claiming, a declaration of everything you’ve both been too afraid to say.

His hand tangles in your hair, holding you close as he deepens the kiss, his other hand coming to rest on your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt as if to ground yourself in the moment, to make sure this is real, that he’s really here, kissing you.

Moving your lips against his with equal fervor, you pour the longing you’ve been feeling all this time into it. The taste of him is intoxicating. It’s something that’s so uniquely him—so uniquely Logan—and you can’t get enough. You’ve imagined this moment in the dead of night, but nothing compares to the reality of it—to the way he kisses you like you’re the only thing that matters.

When you finally pull back, out of breath and a little dazed, Logan’s forehead rests against yours, his breath coming in heavy, uneven pants. His eyes are smoldering and intense and his smirk is gone, replaced by a deep look of yearning.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admits huskily. The way his voice has dropped three octaves isn’t missed on you. You can practically feel it vibrate down in your pu—

“You’re not the only one,” You whisper, interrupting your own thoughts. The connection between you has finally been acknowledged, and you feel a huge sense of relief.

He exhales a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, and his hand slips from the back of your head to cup your face, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. “Good,” he murmurs. “Because I don’t think I can hold back anymore.”

You lean in, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Then don’t,” you whisper against his mouth.

The spark that has been ignited between you flares up into a full blown fire, and the next kiss quickly becomes more heated. Without breaking it, Logan’s grip on your waist tightens and you let out a soft gasp as he effortlessly lifts you onto his lap. Your legs straddle his hips, and you can feel the beginning of something growing underneath you.

The sensation is dizzying, and you instinctively press yourself closer, your fingers curling into his hair. The swing beneath you creaks softly with the movement, but neither of you pays it any mind, too lost in each other to care.

You shift slightly on his lap, grinding your hips against him, and the movement draws a deep, throaty groan from him. He pulls back just enough to catch his breath, “God, you drive me crazy,” and then he’s on you again.

It’s wild. Hot, and heavy, and utterly consuming. His hands move from your hips to grip your ass, guiding you to move against him. It feels so good, you release a relieved sigh into his mouth, before dropping your head onto his shoulder, too caught up in the pleasure.

The sounds of your moans fill the air as he continues grinding you against him, his own hips bucking up into your core.

Biting your lip, you lift your head slightly, a teasing smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as your eyes dart toward the open door of the farmhouse. “You know,” you begin tilting forward to bite his ear, your voice low and playful, “as much as I’m enjoying being out here, I think we should take this inside.”

Logan’s lips quirk up into a sexy smirk. “As you wish,” he murmurs.

As you stand up, your legs a little shaky from what just occured, you peek back at him, and see that he’s already risen to his feet. Stepping closer, you slip your hand into his as you guide him toward the door. But just as you reach the threshold, a thought crosses your mind, and you pause, turning to look up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“We gotta go to your room,” you say, running your hands up and down his arms, feeling them flex underneath your touch.“I don’t think I’m ready to defile my childhood bedroom just yet.”

He raises an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face as he catches on to what you’re implying. “Oh, is that so?” he asks, his tone filled with mock seriousness. You wink in return. grabbing one of his hands and dragging him inside.

By the time you reach his door, you’re practically vibrating with excitement, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. The room is simple, and the bed, neatly made, sits in the center of the room. You can’t help but laugh at the thought of how different it will look in just a few moments.

You turn to face Logan, but he doesn’t give you time to say anything, his hand reaching out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a touch that is both tender and possessive. His thumb traces the line of your jaw as he cups your face, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation.

But there’s none. You’ve never been more sure of anything in your life. The need for him, for this, is so overwhelming that it’s taking every ounce of strength in you to keep from throwing yourself onto him.

His lips find yours once more, this time more urgent, more demanding than before. He pulls you closer, his body pressing against yours. “Are you sure about this?” he asks in between kisses.

“Absolutely,” you mumble breathlessly, your hands sliding up his chest to curl around the back of his neck. The word barely leaves your lips before Logan reacts, a low hum rumbling in his chest as if your answer has unleashed something primal within him.

He kicks the door shut behind him with a force that makes the room tremble slightly, and in the same fluid motion, he pins you against the wall, lips never leaving yours as his body cages you in.

One of his thighs nudges its way between yours, the rough fabric of his jeans brushing against the sensitive spot between your legs. The friction is maddening, electric, and it hits just right, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine that rips a moan from your throat.

The sound only spurs Logan on, his own need evident in the way he moves against you. He moves his mouth to your neck, trailing up and down it with hungrily. The feel of his mouth on your skin, the way his teeth graze your pulse point, causes you to arch against him, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

You can feel the warmth of his breath as he presses his lips to the sensitive spot just below your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin, as his hands explore your body. They’re everywhere—one gripping your hip, holding you steady against the wall, the other sliding up your side to brush against the curve of your breast. His fingers find the hem of your shirt, tugging it up, and you lift your arms to help him, the fabric sliding up and over your head before it’s tossed carelessly to the floor.

Bringing his lips back to yours, the kiss is fiery, stealing all the oxygen from your lungs as he pushes you even harder into against the wall, his thigh still working its magic. You can’t help the way your hips rock against him, the need for more—more pressure, more friction, more him.

Logan seems to sense your desperation, moaning when his hand slips down from your breast to the waistband of your jeans. He fumbles with the button for only a moment before he gets it open, his fingers slipping inside to brush against the soft skin of your lower belly. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze tempting and filled with a desire that matches your own.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he mutters, voice thick with want. “No idea why I waited so long.”

You can barely think, let alone form words, but you manage to breathe out, “Don’t need to wait any longer.”

The words seem to be all the encouragement he needs. In one swift motion, he slides your pants and underwear down your legs, his hands careful as he helps you step out of them. You’re left standing before him, bare and vulnerable, but the way he’s staring at you—like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen—makes you feel powerful, desired in a way you’ve never felt before.

He pulls you back into him, and this time, you can feel the hardness of his own desire against yours—bare— and it drives you insane. His grip finds you thighs as he lifts you off the ground and carries you the short distance to the bed. He lays you down gently on his bed, and breaks away long enough to strip off his own clothes. The sight of him—strong, muscular, yours—makes your breath catch in your throat.

There’s a moment where he’s standing above you, just staring, his chest rising and falling with the effort to control himself. But then he’s on you again in an instant, his body pressing yours into the mattress, his lips claiming yours and leaving you dizzy.

You lean up into him, your hands sliding up his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath his skin as he moves against you. The need for more builds up to a breaking point, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as he grinds into you, hard and insistent against your core.

“Logan,” you breathe out. “Please.”

His name on your lips seems to break the last of his control, a desperate groan ripping out of him. He begins travelling down your body, taking his time, his lips tracing a slow, deliberate path, each kiss leaving a burning trail in its wake. His hands follow the curve of your waist, your hips, his fingers digging into your skin with just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. Your body is practically begging for him, and you know that you’re on the verge of begging too.

Once he makes it down to your thighs, he nudges them apart, giving him better access to you. He nips and bites at them, moaning along with you. And then, with a deep, almost possessive growl, he finally lowers his mouth to you, his tongue flicking out to taste you. You react immediately, a wave of pleasure coming over you, your hands fly into his hair, tugging at the strands as you try to pull him closer.

Logan’s hands tightening their grip on your thighs as he delves deeper. You’re lost in the sensations, the pleasure growing and growing until it’s all you can think about, all you can feel. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending alight with desire, and the only thing that matters is the way he is making you feel, the way he’s driving you toward a release that you know will be earth-shattering.

And then, just as you think you can’t take any more, he pulls back slightly, his lips still hovering over you as he looks up at you, eyes black. “Tell me what you want,” he commands.

You can barely think, let alone form coherent words, but you manage to breathe out, “You. I want–I need you.”

That seems to be wanted he wanted to hear, so with a final kiss to your inner thigh, he moves back up your body, connecting his lips to yours again. You can taste yourself on his tongue as his hands slide under your thighs, lifting you slightly to position himself at your entrance.

The anticipation is almost too much, the need for him so immense that you can’t hold back the whimper that escapes your lips as begins to push, the tip of him just barely inside you, teasing, testing your patience.

“Oh god,” you moan. “I need you. Please.”

And then, finally, Logan gives you what you’ve been wanting since that time at the pond. With one slow, deliberate thrust, he pushes inside you, filling you up completely.

Everything seems to stop for a moment, the only sound the ragged gasps of breath between you, the only feeling the overwhelming pleasure of being joined together like this, of finally having what you’ve both wanted for so long.

He pauses, lowering his head in the crook of your neck as he lets you adjust to the feeling, his breath hot and heavy against your collarbone. And then he begins to move, slow and steady at first, each thrust driving you closer to the edge, the coil inside you tightening with every stroke. The feel of him inside you, the way he moves against you, is everything you’ve been dreaming of and more, and you can’t help the way your body responds to him, your hips lifting to meet his every movement.

The gentle, deliberate pace soon gives way to something more urgent, more desperate, as the need for release takes over. Each thrust drives you higher, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level, until teetering on the edge.

And then, he sends you over it. The orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your entire body shuddering with the intensity of it, your voice lost in the cry of pure ecstasy that escapes your lips. Logan follows you a moment later, his own release crashing into him hard, his body trembling against yours as he buries himself deep inside you, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as a loud, deep, groan reverberates in his throat.

Neither of you can move, lost in the aftermath of your shared pleasure, your bodies still entwined, as you come down from the high. He tightens his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your temple as he tries to catch his breath. And when he does, he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

You nod, reaching up to cup his face in your hands, your thumbs gently brushing over the rough stubble on his cheeks. “I’m more than okay,” you whisper back, voice full of emotion. “That was… everything.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of Logan’s lips, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his arms still wrapped securely around you. “Yeah, it was,” he agrees.

Eventually, he eases out of you with a tenderness that makes you sigh softly. He walks out into the washroom, and gets a warm towel, wiping you and himself down. After, he settles beside you on the bed, his arm draped over your waist, holding you close. The two of you stay like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s arms, until the exhaustion of the day begins to catch up with you, and you feel your eyes growing heavy.

“Get some rest,” you hear, “We’ve got plenty of time… no need to rush.”

You nod sleepily, snuggling closer to him as you let your eyes drift shut, the steady pulse of his heart lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

—

You wake to the feeling of warmth and security, Logan’s breathing against your ear, his arm still clinging possessively over your waist. The events of the previous night come rushing back, and a satisfied smile curves your lips as you snuggle closer to him.

But it isn’t long before that peaceful contentment becomes something more. As you move around, the feel of his skin against yours, the warmth of his breath on your neck, and the memory of the passion ignites a familiar heat low in your belly

He stirs beside you, his hand tightening around your waist as if sensing your thoughts. Pulling you closer, his nose nuzzles against your neck, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin there.

His voice is rough with sleep as he murmurs against your skin, “Morning…”

The simple word, spoken in that deep, gravelly tone, is enough to make you ache for him all over again. You turn in his arms, meeting his gaze, and the look in his eyes—dark and hungry—tells you that he feels the same way.

The morning starts in the best way possible, the both of you breathless, spent, and with the knowledge that this isn’t a one-time thing. The connection between you is too strong, too consuming to be satisfied with just one night or even one morning. And as the day stretches out before you, the realization hits that this hunger, this need, will follow you both everywhere you go.

Throughout the week, the two of you are completely insatiable for each other. It’s like the floodgates have opened and have no intention of closing. Every moment you’re together becomes an opportunity.

It starts innocently enough—just a kiss in the barn when you’re supposed to be checking on the horses. But that kiss quickly spirals and before you know it, Logan has you pressed up against the wooden wall, his lips on your neck, his hands roaming your body. The scent of hay and leather mixes with the heady scent of him as he takes you right there, the barn filled with the sound of your moans and the creak of the old wooden beams.

Or when you’re in the back shed, ostensibly looking for some tools to finish up some chores, the moment the door closes behind you, and you both know there’s no point in pretending. Logan’s hands are on you before you can even say a word, lifting you onto the workbench with ease as he claims your lips in a searing kiss.

At the pond too, the tranquil, secluded spot now holds an entirely different kind of allure to what it had before. One afternoon, you find yourselves there again, the cool water calling your name. But as you strip down to swim, the sight of him watching you is enough to make it seem less inviting than the feel of his hands on your skin. You pull him in with you, the rippling water doing nothing to muffle the sounds of your shared pleasure.

By the end of the week, you’re exhausted but in the best possible way, your body and soul both filled with the kind of satisfaction that comes from truly giving in to what you want, to who you are together. And as the sun sets on the final day of your week alone together, you find yourselves back in Logan’s room, the place where it all began.

The bed, once neat and tidy, is now a tangle of sheets and pillows, the evidence of your shared moments of bliss scattered around the room. Logan lies beside you, his hand gently stroking your hair as you rest your head on his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

“This week… it’s been more than I ever expected,” he admits quietly, his fingers brushing gently over your skin. “I don’t want it to end.”

You lift your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his, and you can see the same emotion reflected there—the same desire to hold on to what you’ve found together. “It doesn’t have to,” you reply. “We don’t have to go back to the way things were before.”

Logan’s hand tightens around yours, a small, almost imperceptible smile curving his lips. “No, we don’t,” he concurs.

—

The morning your grandparents arrive, you and Logan are in the kitchen, finishing up lunch. Your grandmother is the first to step through the door, her face lighting up as she sees the two of you. “We’re back!” she announces, her voice cheerful as she sets her bag down by the door.

You rise to greet her, giving her a warm hug. “How was the trip?”

“Oh, it was lovely,” she replies, her eyes twinkling as she pulls back to look at you. “The cottage was just as beautiful as ever. And the Summers send their love.”

Your grandfather enters next, a gleeful smile on his face as he takes in the sight of you and Logan in the kitchen, together. “Everything go smoothly while we were gone?” he asks.

You blush. “Yes, everything was fine.”

Then they do that thing they’ve been doing the whole time you’ve been with them, where they exchange a glance—and share a look that speaks volumes. It’s the kind of look that only comes from years of understanding each other without words, and you can tell they knew exactly what they were doing when they left you and Logan alone for the week.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” your grandmother says with a mischievous smile, her eyes flicking between you two in a way that makes you wonder just how much they’ve guessed.

“Seems like you two managed just fine without us.” Your grandfather says, patting Logan on the shoulder.

You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you steal a look at Logan, who meets your eyes with a small smirk. It’s a way to tell you that he’s just as aware as you are of what your grandparents are thinking. But there’s no embarrassment on his face, only a quiet confidence, a certainty that whatever happened between you was exactly what was meant to be.

—

The next month flies by, the routine of everything staying largely the same except for one thing. You and Logan are inseparable, drawn to each other like magnets, and with each passing day, it seems like that attraction only grows stronger.

It’s not just the passion that binds you, though that spark is always there, and most often times doesn’t go ignored. It’s the little moments that fill your days—the way his hand brushes yours as you walk side by side, the way he rests a gentle hand on the small of your back when you’re working together in the barn, or the way his fingers grip your waist as he helps you mount your horse (even though you don’t need it).

The work on the farm continues to get done, but there’s a new layer to everything you do—a sense of shared purpose, of partnership. And even though the days are long and tiring, you find yourself looking forward to each task, knowing that Logan will be there beside you, sharing the load, offering his quiet support and his easy, comforting presence.

As the sun begins to rise one breakfast, you grandfather announces that he needs to run into town to pick up some tools for a repair project. He’s heading out the door, and as he grabs his keys from the hook, he turns to Logan with a nod.

“Logan, why don’t you come along? Could use an extra pair of hands,” he suggests, his tone casual.

Your man agrees without hesitation, always ready to lend a hand. But as he follows your grandfather out the door, he pauses for just a moment, whirling back to look at you, and what you see on his face is insane—there’s a deep yearning, a longing that tugs on your heartstrings. It’s almost as if to say that he wishes he could stay, he doesn’t want to be apart from you, even for the short trip into town.

You have half a mind to join them.

The intensity of that look lingers in the air long after he’s turned away and stepped out the door, and your grandmother doesn’t miss a thing. Once the men are in the truck and begin to drive off the property, she turns to you with a teasing smile, one eyebrow raised in amusment.

“He’s really got it bad for you, doesn’t he?” she says affectionately. “I’ve never seen a man look at a woman the way he looks at you.”

Your heart blooms in your chest. “I guess he does,” you reply, your voice soft, breathless as the weight of your feelings for him wash over you.

Your grandmother chuckles, stepping closer to place her hand on your arm “And you’ve got it bad for him too, I’d say.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I do.”

—

Several weeks later, it’s raining. That should have been the first sign that this day wasn’t going to go to plan. You’re sitting inside, curled up next to Logan on the old chesterfield, his arm wrapped around you as you both enjoy the warmth and quiet of the afternoon.

But then you decide to go through some emails—just a quick check, nothing more, to clear out any lingering notifications. You unlock your phone and start scrolling through your inbox, Logan’s fingers tracing lazy circles on your shoulder as you do. Most of the emails are routine—newsletters, updates, the usual clutter—but then you see it, nestled among the others like a tiny, unexpected bombshell.

It’s an email from the company you applied to months ago, the one you almost forgot about in the blissful haze of farm life. The subject line makes your heart skip a beat: Congratulations! Offer of Employment.

Your breath catches, and you sit up a little straighter, your heart pounding in your chest as you open the email. The words leap off the screen: We are pleased to offer you the position, starting in two months.

You stare at the email, a mixture of shock and elation washing over you. This is it—your dream job, the opportunity you’ve been working toward for years. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted, the kind of position that could set the course for your entire career. But as the initial wave of excitement begins to ebb, a heavy weight settles in your chest, pulling you back down to earth.

You glance over at Logan, who’s still relaxed beside you. His eyes are closed, his head resting back against the couch. The sight of him, so content, makes your heart ache, because with this job offer comes a harsh reality: accepting it means leaving him, leaving this life you’ve built together, at least for a while. And you don’t know when—or even if—you’ll be back.

Suddenly, his eyes flutter open in response to your shifting, and he looks over at you, concern flickering across his features. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “I… I just got an email,” you begin shakily as you turn the screen toward him so he can read it for himself.

He takes the phone from your hand, his eyes scanning the email. You watch his expression carefully, searching for any sign of what he’s feeling. At first, there’s no reaction, just the steady, focused way he reads the words. Yet as he reaches the end, you see it—the subtle tightening of his jaw, the pinching together of his eyebrows.

He hands the phone back to you wordlessly.

Then, “This is what you’ve been waiting for.” His voice is steady, but there’s a sadness there too, a heaviness that you can’t ignore.

You nod, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Yeah… it is.”

There’s a long stretch of nothing, the sound of the rain outside filling the silence between you. Logan looks away, his gaze fixed on the fire as if trying to find the right words. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, measured. “You have to take it.”

You swallow hard. “But what about us? I don’t know when I’ll be back… or if I’ll even be able to come back.”

Logan’s hand tightens around yours, his grip firm, grounding. “We’ll figure it out,” he says, though you can hear the strain in his voice, the way he’s trying to hold back his own emotions for your sake. “You’ve worked too hard for this to pass it up.”

His words are supportive, encouraging, but you can see the the way he’s starting to close in on himself, as if already bracing himself for your departure. The thought of being apart from him is unbearable.

You lean into his touch, your head resting on his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “I don’t want to leave you,” you whisper as the tears finally spill over.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there as if trying to convey all the things he can’t bring himself to say. “I don’t want you to leave either,” he admits. “But I’ll be here when you get back. However long it takes.”

And so begins the countdown to your departure. You always knew it was going to come, always knew you were going to have to leave your grandparents again, but you didn’t expect to find the love of your life here, and that makes it so much harder.

—

The remaining two months become a bittersweet blend of cherished moments and a looming sense of inevitability. Each day feels both precious and fleeting, a constant reminder that your time together is running out, and it shapes every decision, every action, every word between you.

In the past, your days had been filled with the rhythm of farm life—early mornings, long hours of work, and evenings spent in each other’s arms, exhausted but content. But now, there’s a conscious effort to carve out time just for you two, time that’s not dictated by chores or routine. You start taking more trips to the pond or into town, something you hadn’t quite as often before.

These dates are different from the intense, passionate moments you’ve shared on the farm—they’re softer, more tender, as if you’re both trying to imprint each other’s presence into your memories. You hold hands as you walk on the streets, your fingers intertwined, and every now and then, Logan will pull you close, pressing a kiss to your temple or your lips, as if he needs to reassure himself that you’re still there with him.

Even the way you make love changes during these months. The hunger and desire that had once defined your physical relationship are still there, of course—Logan’s touch still ignites a fire in you, and the need for each other still burns as hot as ever—but now, there’s a new dimension to your intimacy, a slow, sensual depth that hadn’t been there before.

Your grandparents, upon hearing the news, immediately noticed the change too. While they were so extremely happy for your new job opportunity, they also knew what it meant. They’ve seen the way you and Logan have grown closer, the way your connection has deepened, and there’s a quiet sadness in their eyes whenever they see you together.

It’s not a sadness for themselves, but for the both of you.

They don’t say much, but their understanding is palpable. They seem to give you more grace when it comes to doing work around the farm, trying to volunteer and do as much as they can so you two can spend time alone. No matter how much you refuse, they insist, pushing you two out the door with picnic basket and blankets.

Sitting on the porch one evening after a long day, your grandmother comes out to join you. She sits beside you, Logan’s arm is draped around your shoulders, and for a brief second, the three of you just sit in silence, watching the sunset.

“You know,” your grandmother begins, her voice soft and filled with emotion, “I see the way you two look at each other. It reminds me of your grandfather and me when we were young.”

You smile, leaning into Logan’s side as you listen to her. “You two have always been such an inspiration,” you say, meaning every word.

She chuckles, a wistful sound. “It wasn’t always easy, you know. There were times when we had to be apart, times when I wasn’t sure if we’d make it through. But we did. And looking at you two now… I know you’ll find a way.”

Logan squeezes your shoulder gently.. “We’ll figure it out,” he says, echoing the promise he made when you first told him about the job.

Your grandmother nods, reaching out to pat your knee. “I believe you will. But just know… it’s okay to be sad, to be scared. That’s part of loving someone.”

The words resonate with you, and you feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Thank you,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

She smiles, a small, sad smile that holds a lifetime of wisdom. “You’ll be alright, my dear. Both of you.”

The days continue to slip by, and as the final weeks approach, your chest constantly feels tight. You try to make yourself feel better by lying in each other’s arms at night, whispering about the future, about the dreams you have, and the plans you’ll make when you’re together again. But still, it’s sad.

—

Your last day creeps up on you like a shadow at dusk—inevitable, inescapable, and suddenly there, looming over everything. You wake up with a rock on your heart, the realization that this is it—your final day on the farm, your last full day with Logan before everything changes.

He is still asleep beside you, holding you close, his face peaceful in the early morning quiet. For a moment, you just watch him, memorizing the lines of his face, the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, the way his hair falls across his forehead. You want to remember everything, to carry this image of him with you when you leave.

With a soft sigh, you carefully slip out of his embrace, trying not to wake him. You pad quietly to the window, staring out at the familiar landscape that has become so dear to you. The fields, the barn, the trees swaying gently in the breeze—it’s all so beautiful, so full of memories.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel the wetness on your cheeks, and you quickly wipe the tears away, not wanting to start the day with sadness. But as you turn back to the bed, you see that Logan is awake, his eyes open and watching you. He doesn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes says it all—he knows what today means, and he feels it just as deeply as you do.

Wordlessly, you crawl back into bed, curling up against him, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek, grounding you in the moment.

“Morning,” he murmurs.

“Morning,” you whisper back, your voice trembling slightly as you press your face into his chest, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to fall..

You just lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of the day pressing down on you both. Eventually, Logan pulls back slightly, his hand cupping your face as he looks into your eyes. “Let’s go to the pond,” he says delicately. “Just you and me.”

You nod, unable to find the words to respond. The pond has always been your special place, a sanctuary where you’ve shared so many intimate moments, where it feels like it all began, and so it’s only right that would spend your last day there, away from everything else, just the two of you.

You decide to walk to the pond. Logan’s hand is warm and solid in yours, and you hold on to it tightly, physically unable to tear yourself from his touch. And when you reach it, a fresh wave of emotion crashes over you.

You and Logan stand at the water’s edge, just staring out into the pond. Then, you turn to him, your eyes filled with tears, and without hesitation, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close.

The kiss that follows is desperate, full of the need to feel connected, to hold on to each other for as long as you can. It’s not like the slow, sensual lovemaking of the past weeks—this is something desperate. Stumbling back toward the soft grass by the water’s edge, Logan gently lays you down, his hands trembling slightly as he undresses you, tears stinging behind his eyelids. As he moves over you, his body pressing against yours, there’s only this moment.

With his skin against yours, his breath on your neck, your bodies move together. Tears spill from your eyes as you hold him tight, your hands unable to stay still, running over every part of him you can touch, needing to feel him, to anchor yourself. His lips find yours again, and the kiss is deep, full of all the love, all the emotion that neither of you can put into words.

It’s a kiss that says goodbye, that says I love you, that says I’ll wait for you.

After reaching the peak of pleasure, you cling to each other, the tears flowing freely now, a mix of sorrow and love and everything in between.

Logan holds you close, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath ragged, his eyes wet with tears. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’ll always love you.”

“I love you too,” you choke out. “More than anything.”

—

Driving away from the farm was probably the hardest thing you've ever had to do in your entire life. Harder than moving away for university, harder than securing your first full-time job, harder than living alone in a city where you knew no one. This was different—this was leaving behind a piece of your heart, a part of your soul that you knew would never be whole until you returned.

Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly, your knuckles white as you try to focus on the road ahead, but it’s impossible to shake the image that’s burned into your mind—the image of Logan and your grandparents standing on the porch as you drove away. The sight of them, standing there side by side, watching you leave, is something that will haunt you for a long time.

Logan, his stoic expression barely masking the pain in his eyes, his hands clenched at his sides as if holding himself back from running after you. Your grandmother, her face a mixture of sadness and pride, eyes glistening with unshed tears. And your grandfather, standing tall and strong, but with a heaviness in his gaze that spoke of understanding, of experience, of knowing just how hard this had to be.

The tears that had been threatening to fall finally break free, streaming down your face as you drive, blurring your vision and making it hard to see the road ahead. You swipe at them angrily, frustrated with yourself for breaking down like this, but it’s no use. The emotions are too strong, too overwhelming, and soon you’re bawling your eyes out, the sound of your own crying filling the car.

You can barely catch your breath, each sob wracking your body with a force that leaves you feeling drained, exhausted, and utterly broken.

—

The time apart is worse than you ever imagined it would be. In the beginning, you and Logan make every effort to stay in touch. The calls and texts are your lifeline, little threads that keep you connected to the farm, to him, to the life you left behind.

At first, you talk every day. his voice a comfort, a reminder that you’re not alone, that he’s still there, waiting for you. He tells you about his days, about how he still rides the horses every morning, just like he used to when you were there.

But as time goes on, the time between each call grows. Your demanding work schedule, and the unreliable service in the countryside, make it harder and harder to find moments when you’re both free to talk. The texts, once long and filled with details about your lives, become shorter, more practical. You try to stay connected, but the distance feels like a growing chasm between you, one that neither of you can quite figure out how to bridge.

Years pass by in a blur. You have no time to spend at the farm, with it being too far away for just a weekend trip, and other commitments seem to always get in the way.

Then, one day, the call comes—the call you’ve dreaded but somehow always knew would happen. It’s your grandmother, her voice trembling as she tells you that your grandfather has passed away.

You take leave from work immediately, making arrangements to drive back to the farm and spend a night. The funeral is simple, attended by a few close friends and neighbours, but the absence of your grandfather is felt deeply by everyone.

And he’s there too—Logan. He’s standing off to the side, his broad shoulders slightly hunched, his face etched with grief. When your eyes meet, it’s as if no time has passed at all. You walk over to him, and without a word, he pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as if afraid to let go.

The few years apart, the pain of the distance, all of it melts away in that embrace. You bury your face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him that you’ve missed so much, and the tears you thought you had run out of begin to fall.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, everything hitting you at once—the loss of your grandfather, the years you’ve spent apart, the life you could have had together.

He hugs you tighter, his hand gently stroking your hair. “I miss you,” he murmurs thickly. “Every damn day, I miss you.”

You spend the rest of the day together, holding each other, talking, catching up, and remembering your grandfather. Logan tells you about the farm, about how he’s kept things going, but you can hear the weariness in his voice, the toll that time and loneliness have taken on him. It’s clear that the farm hasn’t been the same without you, just as your life hasn’t been the same without him.

Later that evening, after the guests have left and the house has grown quiet, your grandmother pulls you aside. Her eyes are tired, full of sorrow, but there’s a calm acceptance in her expression. “I’ve made a decision,” she says softly, her voice steady. “I’m going to sell the farm.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, but before you can protest, she continues. “Not to just anyone,” she adds quickly. “To Logan. He’s been more than just a farmhand, you know that. This place is as much his as it was ours. But… I need to move into permanent care. I can’t manage on my own anymore.”

You nod, understanding but feeling a deep sadness all the same. The farm has been a part of your life for so long, and the thought of it changing hands, even to Logan, feels like another loss. But there’s also a sense of relief, knowing that it will be in good hands, that it will stay in the family, in a way.

That night, you’re tangled in Logan’s arms. Leaving him the next morning is just as hard the second time as it was the first.

—

Five years since that fateful summer have passed, and in that time, your life changes in ways you never expected. You’ve built a successful career, made some amazing friends, travelled the world, but the hustle and bustle of city life has taken its toll. The stress, the strain, the dissatisfaction—it begins to weigh on you more and more.

So, you make a decision.

You quit your job, find something remote, something that allows you to work from anywhere, as long as you can drive into the city every few weeks to drop off documents. It’s a drastic change, but it’s one you need. You realize that the life you want, the life you’ve been yearning for, isn’t in the city.

It’s back at the farm.

As you step out of your car, you see him. He’s by the paddock, feeding the horses apples, just like he used to. His back is to you at first, but then he turns, and his eyes meet yours, and time stops.

There’s a lifetime of emotions in that look—love, longing, hope. Most of all, there’s recognition, as if both of you know that this is it, that this is the moment you’ve been waiting for all these years.

And when you’re finally standing in front of him again, he reaches out, his hand trembling slightly as he cups your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek the same way it did all those years ago.

----

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misctf · 5 months ago

Text

What You Wanted

Richard wanted to better himself. At first, as a wide-eyed new freshman, he was looking to make a change. Having always been more nerdy and unathletic, Richard prioritized his studies rather than his physical fitness growing up. But after years of fearing the gym, he took his first step. And the rest was history. He grew lean with muscle and learned the ins and outs of the gym routine. He found a gym buddy and quickly climbed the social hierarchy. Smart, fit, and now entering his junior year- he was living his best life.

“Richard!” Thomas’s nasally voice cut through the air, “Are you even paying attention?” Beady eyes narrowed behind his thick rimmed glasses.

Richard shrugged, “Sorry, I must’ve zoned out.” He was thinking more about his gym session earlier that day instead of paying attention to whatever nerdy movie Thomas picked, “I’m just not feeling it today.”

Richard and Thomas were friends since middle school. Both unapologetically nerdy, each surviving their fair share of bullying. But while Richard’s interests in fitness blossomed, Thomas remained entrenched in all things nerdy.

“You’re never feeling it anymore.” Thomas lamented, “I’m worried about you.” He looked at his friend closely, “Are you becoming like them? One of those stupid, smelly meatheads?” Richard knew Thomas never approved of his new friends- especially since many of them gave off the same vibes as their former bullies.

“Thomas, look.” Richard started, “I just... We’re obviously very different people now.”

“Not true! We both study Biochemistry! We’re both applying to graduate school in a few months!” Thomas interjected.

“Yeah, but Thomas, I’ve changed. I don’t really like superheroes and Battle Monsters and all that stuff anymore.” Richard sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I mean, its fun from time to time, but you’re obsessed with it.”

“Obsessed?”

Richard nodded, “Look, I need to get going. I have an exam.” He grabbed his backpack and started towards the door.

“Is that how it’s going to be?” Thomas yelled, “So you think you’re better than me too? Just like all those stupid jocks, right?” Thomas continued, “Fine, if you want to be a stupid, smelly jock so bad, go for it! Don’t come crying to me!”

“Whatever.” Richard said, “See you around.”

_________

Richard worked through his thermodynamics exam with ease. It became such a mindless activity that his thoughts wandered to Thomas. They had been close for years. And Thomas gave him an outlet for some of his more nerdier interests. Sure, he wasn’t as interested in all that nerd stuff like he was back in middle school, but Richard did value the time he spent with Thomas. He frowned. Maybe he was just a bit too harsh. He’d apologize once he got done with his exam. But as he continued to write down the answers to these complex questions, he felt something welling up from within him. Something physical... something...

BUUUUURRRRPPPPP

Richard’s eyes widened and he quickly covered his mouth. He felt his cheeks flush red and looked around the room, noticing a few looks of disgust, as well as a few snickers from some of his classmates.

“Richard?” The professor said, looking up from her book.

“Yo, my bad dude.” Richard’s eyes widened, as did the professor’s, “Whoa, brah! Didn’t mean to say that!” His face reddened even more.

“Richard, please focus on your test.” She said sternly.

He nodded, trying to tune out the snickers from his surrounding classmates, ‘What the fuck was that?’ He thought to himself, trying to regain his composure, ‘Okay... just focus.’

But as he stared at the problems on his exam, he noticed small drops of water appearing on his paper. He raised an eyebrow as more drops appeared on his test, smudging his work.

“What the...?” He whispered, “Sweat?” He rubbed a hand across his forehead, “What the fuck?” He said aloud, again disrupting the class.

“Richard!” The professor slammed her book down.

“Dude, just back off.” Richard snapped back. He heard a few audible gasps from his fellow students and his face flushed red, “Bro, that came out wrong. I don't get why I'm sounding like this, bro.” His face flushed red again and he suddenly stood up and headed towards the door, “I gotta take a breather.” He said. But as he approached the door he could feel the same heaviness in his stomach, “No, no no... buuuuuuuuurrrrrpppppppp.”

He slammed the door behind him, and fled from the classroom.

_________

Richard walked across campus as fast as he could. He needed to get back to his apartment as soon as possible. Or maybe to a doctor. But wherever he went, he just needed to be somewhere private. The young man wiped some sweat from his brow and cringed.

“No way dude, I’m like a waterfall.” He whispered, “Oh fuck, look at my pits.” Dark pit stains rapidly formed beneath his arms and continued to grow larger. Richard stopped in his tracks and raised his arms, taking a deep whiff of his own stench, “Huhuhuh that’s ripe, dude.” He chuckled to himself. It was the judgmental stares of nearby students that broke him out of his train of thought, “I’m sorry!” He whispered, blushing deeply, “I didn’t mean to... burrrrppppppppp.” His face reddened even more.

“Haha nice one bro!” A nearby jock laughed.

“Yeah dude! Been dropping bombs all day.” Richard replied with a grin. He quickly shook his head and ran towards his dorm room, ignoring the jock's attempt for a fist bump.

_________

Richard slammed the door to his dorm room shut and threw his backpack across the room. At this point, he didn’t know what to do. His shirt had soaked through from his sweat and a new manly musk was clinging to his sweaty body.

“Okay, I just gotta go to an urgent care.” Richard whispered.

He walked over to his dresser to change his shirt, and he quickly stripped out of his soaked t-shirt. But when he looked down at his body, something wasn’t right.

“Yo dude, since when did I get abs?” Richard mumbled, “Oh shit, look at my boulders.” He rubbed a hand across his large shoulders, giving them a squeeze and chuckling dumbly, “Huhuhuh why do I need a shirt?” He flexed his bicep and watched as it bulged with strength, “Woah fuck look at that!” He watched as his bicep seemed to get a bit larger too, “Dude... that’s buuuuuuurrppppppp.” Richard chuckled, “Fuckin’ new protein powder. Makin’ my gassy as fuck.”

His plans to visit an Urgent Care were quickly leaving his mind. Instead, he continued to focus on his various poses, and amused himself with each growing muscle. Richard walked over to the couch and fell back onto it, grabbing his phone and posting a new picture of himself on his social media. All the white, he absentmindedly scratched as his massive chest, which was starting to sprout a light dusting of hairs. He grinned as various likes started appearing on his picture, and he felt his cock start to grow. He grabbed his massive cock and started stroking it, moaning with each tug.

“Fuck yeah.” He moaned, “Fuck people would be lucky to ride this dick.” He grinned, “Dick’s dick huhuhuh.” A knock at his door broke his concentration and he groaned with disappointment. His cock remained tented in his pants, but he didn’t care. He opened the door, casually scratching his hairy pit, “Oh fuck, Thomas dude! What’s up?”

Thomas grinned, “Richard?” He asked, “Wow.”

“Impressed broski? And don’t call me Richard. More of a Richy.” Richy grinned, “Come in, bro! Look, I’m like totally sorry about earlier. All that nerd stuff that you like. Didn’t mean to be a dick about it.”

“You don’t have to worry, Richy. You made it quite clear that you’re not a nerd anymore.” Thomas chuckled, “You wanted to be a stupid jock, well now you are.”

Richy raised an eyebrow, “Stupid jock?” Something about that wasn’t right. Stupid jock? The words kept echoing in his head, “Stupid jock?” He repeated again, scratching his head, “That’s not... I...” Richy grabbed his head and looked at his friend. For just a second, the dull, dumb look in Richy’s eye was replaced by a knowing intelligence. A horrific realization evident in them. But it quickly lost its spark and his eyes dulled, “Huhuhuh yeah, I guess I’m pretty stupid. But doesn’t really matter when you’ve got this.” He grabbed his bulge and smirked, “Dude, you see that pic I posted? You think I could make it on OnlyFans?”

Thomas nodded, “Yes, I think you could. But I ought to go.”

“No wait bro!” Richy said, blocking his path to the door, “I mean... I know you always say you hate jocks. But its ‘cause you’re into us, right bro?” Thomas’s face reddened, betraying his secret, “So like...” Richy smirked and walked up to Thomas, who’s own khakis were now tented, “You wanna star in my first OnlyFans vid?”

_________

Richy stretched his hands above his head and sniffed his ripe pits. His dick twitched at the smell and he grinned. It’d been a few weeks since he posted his first video to OnlyFans. And yet here he was again, rewatching his first video: “buff jock fucks gay nerd.” Without fail, it always made his dick hard. And even though he posted several more videos since then, he always found himself coming back to this one. But even a masterpiece gets dull and Richy pulled out his phone. He ignored several horrified texts from his parents asking why he dropped out of school, as well as deleting multiple invites to interview for grad programs, whatever those were. Instead he found Thomas’s contact info.

“Hey bro.” He messaged, “Be at my place ASAP.” He took a quick selfie and threw in a few eggplant emojis to get his point across.

Afterwards, he tossed his phone somewhere on his bed. He didn’t need to see Thomas’s response. Sure he was stupid, be he did know one thing. No one, especially not Thomas, could resist this dick. And the knock on his door not even ten minutes later was all the confirmation he needed.

#male tf #male transformation #mental change #personality tf #himbo tf

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annabelinlove · 10 months ago

Text

No Games

Pairing: Wolfstar x reader (Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader)

Summary: You were injured by some Slytherins and the boys worry for you.

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: angst, description of violence, language, Snape is a dick, English isn’t my first language, Peter doesn’t exist in this, lmk if I missed any

Being a muggle born never really bothered you. You loved your parents, and you were glad for the childhood you had. They were really surprised when you had gotten your letter but were supportive nevertheless. They didn’t understand your new world and even though they were happy for you, they never cared to learn more about it. Part of you was bothered about it, because living in two different worlds, yet still trying to communicate, was hard. You drifted apart and whenever you visited during the breaks, they never wanted to hear about your school year or the magical world. It was usually awkward and uncomfortable, but you still loved them dearly and knew they loved you. You weren’t ashamed of your parents and defended them any chance you got.

Your first year was pretty hard. Not only were you getting used to this whole new world you were suddenly thrown into, but you’ve also learned the hard way, that being a muggle born was viewed as a bad thing. Being called worthless, stain on the wizarding world and mudblood were suddenly a daily occurrence. Thankfully, being sorted into Gryffindor led you to meet some amazing people and become best friends with Lily Evans. You tried to get through it together and it was suddenly much easier to have someone who understood you. You’ve befriended the Marauders as well and since the start of the second year, you were inseparable. Lily had some apprehension at the beginning, since James Potter was an ‘arrogant toerag’ in her words, but you’ve helped her realize, that there was much more then mischief in the boys. It didn’t take long for you to develop feelings for two of the troublemakers. There was just something about Sirius Black and Remus Lupin that made you fall, and you fell hard. You still remembered the conversation with Lily, where you revealed your feeling by accident. It was soon after Sirius and Remus started dating.

“I don’t get how the two of them could be together! Don’t get me wrong, I’m really happy for them and I hope they’ll be happy but they’re just... they’re so different!” Lily told you drunkenly at one of the famous Gryffindor parties, looking at the couple snogging in the middle of the made-up dance floor.

“And that’s the beauty of it, you know? When Sirius is hotheaded, Remus is there to calm him down and where Remus is reserved, Sirius helps him get out of his shelf. They’re two sides of the same coin,” you defended them fiercely. Seeing them like that made you so happy, but the darker side of you was jealous, wishing you could be part of it.

“I kinda wish a coin had three sides, you know? Can you imagine how amazing that would be?” You said without thinking, gaze fixed on the two boys. Lily shot you a confused look.

“A coin with three sides? How would that even look? And what kind of shape would it have to have? Why would you want a three-sided coin?” Her confusion was not only in her eyes, but you could also detect it in her voice as well. You just rolled your eyes at her oblivion.

“I don’t want a three-sided coin Lily, I wanna be part of their relationship. How you’re on top of every class, I have no idea.”

The memory always made you smile. And your wish came true. Not long after your conversation with Lily, even though it felt like years for you, you became a part of the relationship. It was quite complicated at the beginning, you were no stranger to dating, but dating not only two boys but two Golden boys of Hogwarts was no easy task. But you’ve happily settled and after some long conversations, when you all tried to figure out, you were as happy as you could ever be.

Your sixth year was however when things turned complicated once again. The war raging outside the walls of the castle was taking a tool on you. You were constantly worried about the safety of your family as well as your own. It was no secret that you had muggle parents, which made you a target at the school as well. Every time you saw some Slytherins, mostly Snape with Malfoy and Mulciber, you were called names and even hexed multiple times. But it wasn’t only you, every muggle born was treated like that, which didn’t make it better, yet it seemed like you were the biggest target, wether it was because of your connection and close friendship with the Marauders, the constant pranks you pulled on them or the fact, that you always fought back and never let them get away with it. You had many serious talks with Lily about this topic. She tried to tell you to take it easy and ignore them like she did, and they’d get bored of it soon. You never had the heart to tell her, that the reason the boys didn’t target her as much was because Severus still had feelings for her, even after their falling-out, and threatened other Slytherins to take it easy on her.

“Why did you do that?” Lily asked you as you laid on your bed with a pack of ice on your face that still stung from the hex they threw at you.

“You mean why did I turned them into snakes? Because that’s what they fucking are Lily. I can’t juste let them call me names and walk away. Plus, they started it,” you said tiredly, the headache making you nauseous.

“But you could! If you had just ignored them, you wouldn’t have been hurt and in detention” she tried once again “that’s what I do, just walk away. So what if the call us mudbloods, its not like its harmful anymore.”

“But its not about the name calling. They’re fucking death eaters and acting like they’re better than us, but they’re not! It’s about the principle. You can’t do something bad and not get punished for it.” The conversation was almost identical to the one you’ve had many times in the past.

“Well, at least you’ve answered your question why you have to go to detention for the following week,” Lily sighed and went to change you ice pack.

The boys tried their best to protect you, they always made sure that at least one of them was with you. Wether it was in library with Remus, quidditch with James, the kitchen with Sirius or at least one of them walking you to every class and the Great Hall. They never talked to you about it, but you knew what they were doing, and the thoughtfulness warmed your heart. But they couldn’t be with you every second of the day no matter how much you wanted them to or how much they tried. That’s how you found yourself walking to your common room late at night after another detention with McGonagall.

“I’m sorry, you did what?!” Remus shrieked, staring at you in disbelief.

“I set Snivellus on fire. I mean, just his robes,” you mumbled sheepishly. Your boyfriends stared at you with mixed amazement and incredulity. James bursted into laughter.

“How come we never thought of that?” He said between laughter.

“Pff, don’t encourage her Prongs or she’ll think it was a good idea and will do something analogously stupid.” Your scarred boyfriend scoffed, but the corner of his mouth twitching.

“And what was I supposed to do? Let him torture the poor second year and just walk away?” You tried to defend your actions, slowly getting worked up.

“That’s not what he meant, pet. We just want you to be careful. Moony means well, he’s scared, just like the rest of us. They’re getting bolder and bolder. We’re proud of you for defending the kid, aren’t we, Moons?” Sirius finally joined the conversation, trying to calm you all down. He pulled you into his arms, kissing your head. Remus sighed and took your face into his hands, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Of course I’m proud, you're our brave girl, darling. Just don’t wanna see you hurt.” And with those words he kissed you deeply.

Walking down the dark and empty corridor, you tried not to think about the sickening smell you’ve been inhaling for the least couple of hours. Professor McGonagall made you wash one of the dirty bathrooms without magic as your punishment. You were disgusted with the Hogwarts students and the mess they could make. So lost in your own head, you didn’t even hear the steps of people behind you. Not until it was too late anyway.

“Well, well, well, who do we have here?” Said the voice behind you that belonged to no other then Severus Snape. Before you could even pull out your wand, it flew out of your hands with a simple Expelliarmus from Mulciber, whom you just noticed standing behind Snape.

“I’m not in a mood for your games Snivellus,” you snapped at him, already tired from the day you had.

“Oh, trust me, this is no game,” he threatened, smiling at you maliciously. You wanted to punch him so hard.

“What are you even doing here, aren’t you supposed to be at the infirmary? Those burns looked pretty nasty earlier.” His smile disappeared and something much more dangerous appeaed on his face.

“You’re gonna pay for that, you stupid bitch,” he sneered at you. Your fight or flight instincts kicked in and you moved to him with the intention to rip his head off his body. But before you could take more than few steps, he hit you with a Petrificus Totalus spell. You tried to mask your panic when you realized you could possibly be in an immense danger without your wand and the ability to move with two deatheaters, who loathed you. The grin Snape and Mulciber gave you was a sign of how much of a shit job you did to hide your emotions.

“Not so brave now, are you, mudblood?” Mulciber gave you a sickening smirk. You could see nothing but madness in his eyes. They started to circle around you, eyeing you like predators wanting to hurt their prey. You watched them carefully, waiting for their next move.

“Not in a mood for games, did you say? What a shame because I’m ready to play,” said Mulciber before casting a Flipendo and suddenly, you were upside down, your head hitting the floor. You wanted to do something, protect yourself, scream for help, but you were powerless, unable to do any of the things you wanted to.

“I feel like it’d be much more fun if she didn’t see us, don’t you agree?” He asked Severus who chuckled and nodded.

“For once, I must agree with you. Obscurs!” And all of a sudden you were blindfold, your panic rising. You had no idea what they had planned for you, but were sure it was nothing pleasant. Everything went pretty hazy after they hit you with the Confundus charm. The two deatheaters were taking turns hexing you. They made you slowly bleed and ache, but they haven’t done anything terrible to really harm you, which somehow made you even more nervous. They were slowly becoming more and more harmful with their hexes, causing you more pain. Until they grew bored of the wand work. You were thrown on the floor, all spells lifted from you, and you thought it was finally over before you were harshly kicked into the stomach. You could hear them laughing as they continued to hit you and kick you around the cold floor. They’ve caused you more then enough harm. You were bleeding from various places and was more than sure that you had a few broken bones as well as a concussion from them throwing you around like a ragdoll. Your foggy brain couldn’t comprehend all that was happening. Both of them suddenly stopped and quietned down as you tried to crawl away from them. The silence was broken with a shout.

“Crucio!” Yelled one of the boys. You couldn’t care less which one, as you were hit with an immense pain. You were on the floor, whirling in pain. You trashed on the ground, somehow in hopes off gettin rid of the pain, but all in vain. You tried to let out a scream, but you weren’t sure if you did because you couldn’t hear anything but their laughter. The curse was lifted and you sucked a breath of air into your lungs, or at least you tried to. You didn’t have time to even move before they’ve casted the curse again. And again and again. You felt like your insides were being twisted and ripped out of you. At that point, you just wanted them to kill you. You didn’t know how much time has passed, before Snape leaned over you.

“You’ll learn where your place is. You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as we do, mugblood. Let this be your lesson. Hopefully one you’ll remember until your pathetic life ends. Which may not be that long, now that I think about it.” You didn’t even notice that the curse wasn’t on you anymore. You couldn’t move, couldn’t see, couldn’t do anything then whisper a pathetic please, hoping your suffering would end soon. He just smirked at you and looked like he wanted to say something else, but Mulciber beat him to it, shouting Crucio once again. There was nothing you could do than just to take it while begging them to stop. You were slipping into unconsciousness, the pain being too much. You couldn’t even tell the difference between being under the curse and not because all you could feel was agony. You thought you heard someone shouting, but it may have just been a hallucination. Opening your eyes, you could make out a silhouette of someone else coming and you were praying to Merlin it wasn’t Malfoy wanting to join in on all the ‘fun’. To your surprise you saw, or at least thought you did, Snape and Mulciber running away, but not before the last curse Snape sent your way. Sectumsempra were the last words of Severus Snape, before he took of, disappearing in the darkness. You realized; you didn’t know pain until now. Your body was on fire and instead of drawing in a breath, you coughed out blood.

“Hey, hey, can you hear me?” Somebody was leaning over you, but you couldn’t make out who it was.

“It’s okay now, please just try to breathe. You’re safe, you’re safe.” Those were the last words before the darkness took over you.

“Lay her here, carefully! And quickly, sent for Dumbledore!”

“I don’t know what to do, I’ve never dealt with something like this.”

“Just hold on, it’s gonna be okay.”

“What the fuck happened?!” “You can’t be here right now, mister Black.”

“This is gonna hurt, dear. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re safe now, my love. I’m never gonna let anything like that happen to you. I swear on my life.”

“What the hell do you mean, they’re not gonna be punished?!” “We are not discussing this topic with you, mister Lupin.” “They can’t just walk away, have you seen what they’ve done to her? She’s fucking dying!” “Enough Remus, please.”

“Please, wake up. I know it’s selfish of me to ask this, considering everything that happened, but please, I really need you to wake up.”

You kept slipping in an out of consciousness, hearing bits and peaces of the conversations happening around you, but the darkness has always won and took you under.

The first thing you felt was something wet on your hand. You tried to open your eyes, but even such easy task seemed like something impossible. You tried to move, but it was like you were under the binding curse all over again. After much effort, you were able to open your eyes very slowly. The bright light made you blink a couple of times, but you were able to recognize your surroundings. The hospital wing. You wanted to sit up, but the pain suddenly consumed you like a tsunami, and a groan tore itself out of your throat.

“You’re awake!” Said a quiet voice. Your eyes met Lily’s beautiful green ones. Tears rolled down her cheeks and the realization that you’ve felt her tears on your hand hit you. You tried to open your mouth to say something, but your throat felt like sandpaper and nothing came out.

“Shh, don’t say anything, its okay. Here, try to drink some water instead.” She handed you a cool glass of water, but you were unable to sit up and drink. When she noticed, more tears welled up in her eyes and she softly squeezed your hand and with the words, that she’ll be back soon left you alone and disappeared behind the white curtains around your bed. You didn’t know how much time passed with you just looking at the ceiling, but Madam Pomfrey was suddenly by your side with some other woman in white.

“This is nurse Bimley, we’re just gonna do a quick check, okay?” She asked and both her and the nurse started to examine you and move you around. They asked you some questions, but you didn’t really pay attention, your mind tired to function properly. With their hands on you and calming words, you fell into the darkness.

Opening you eyes the second time was easier and even adjusting to the light was quicker. You found yourself half sitting, half laying on the hospital bed. Did they move you again? How long has it been since I last woke up? Why am I even here?

“Hey.” Whispered a voice beside you, interrupting your train of thoughts. You looked at the boy sitting on a very uncomfortable looking chair next to your bed. You’d recognize his stormy eyes everywhere, but the ever-present spark in them seemed to disappear, worry replacing it. Your hand was squeezed and you looked on your other side, seeing a scarred hand placed in yours. You felt somewhat calmer knowing that your boyfriends were with you.

“Here, drink this.” Remus lifted a glass of some murky liquid to your mouth waited patiently for you to drink the whole thing and you did even though it tasted like shit. He placed the, now empty, glass on the table, avoiding eye contact the whole time, contrary to your other boyfriend. You were all quiet for a while, just studying each other before Sirius broke the silence.

“How are you feeling, love?” You wanted to answer, but instead of words, you started to cough. To your horror you’ve realized droplets of blood came out of your throat, and Sirius was quick to hold a small bucket near your mouth.

“Shh, its okay darling. Just let it out. It’s okay.” Remus tried to soothe you, suddenly standing next to you. He looked like he wanted to place his hand on your back, but for a reason unknown to you, he decided against it. After your coughing fit, you closed your eyes and tried to properly breathe, which suddenly seemed like almost impossible task. When you calmed down a bit and looked up, you saw Sirius’s eyes pooling with unshed tears. He tried to smile at you reassuringly, but it felt fake.

“We should get madame Pomfrey,” Remus murmured, the words aimed to Sirius who slowly nodded, but before any of them could move, you croaked barely audible no. Your voice sounded like nails on chalkboard, and you cringed before starting to cough again. Sirius held up the bucket again while Remus spoke.

“Okay, okay. We won’t call anyone just yet. Just try to breathe for us darling.” And you did what he told you. He sat on the chair again. After you stopped coughing, you tried to speak once again.

“What..” but before you could finish your sentence, Sirius gently shushed you. “Don’t speak, my love. You need to rest and talking just makes it worse.” You nodded at his words, resting your head on the pillow behind you.

“Do you remember what happened, angel?” Remus asked you carefully to which you just shook your head. You didn’t remember anything; you mind still not working properly. The only thing you knew was that you were in terrible pain. Remus sighed before continuing.

“You were attacked darling. When you were walking from detention, some Slytherin cornered you and..” his voice broke, not being able to finish his sentence. Thankfully, Sirius took over.

“They did horrible, horrible things to you, angel. They didn’t tell us exactly what happened, but it almost killed you.” His voice was barely above a whisper at the end, a single tear rolling down his cheek. It almost killed you kept on replaying in your head over and over again as you started to remember bits and pieces. Their laughter, their hexes and curses, the pain. You didn’t even realize you started shaking before Sirius gently laid his hand on your cheek.

“Hey, hey, baby listen to me, you’re safe now. It’s over and you’re safe, do you hear me? We’re never gonna let anything like that happen to you again, okay? You’re safe with us. I promise.” He tried to calm you but you didn’t register his words as you kept on remembering everything. It felt like you were in a trance, not being able to do anything beside cry and shake, ugly sobs tearing out of your throat. You didn’t even realize that Remus quickly left your side to get Poppy to help you. To you, she appeared out of nowhere, suddenly by your side.

“I told you to get me when she wakes up, mainly to prevent something like this from happening. Now leave us alone and get professor McGonagall.” Both of your boyfriends left rather quickly without a word but sending you a sorry look. You really didn’t want them to leave but were unable to voice you thoughts through the sobbing. The sweet nurse got you to calm down after a while of sweet talk and reassurance that you were safe.

“Let me check the injuries, okay?” She asked but already started to take off your hospital robe that you didn’t even notice you were wearing. Underneath your whole body was bandaged, some of the bandages red from the blood seeping through them, you could see black and blue bruises where your skin was showing and you felt like you were going to be sick. Madam Pomfrey, thankfully, saw that coming and quickly brought a bucket to your mouth, the same that Sirius gave you earlier, and you puked your guts out, all that while she whispered calming words to you. When you were done, you closed your eyes and let the nurse rewrap your wounds after rubbing some ointment on them. The second she was done, professor McGonagall came into sight with Dumbledore on her heels, it was like they scented they could come.

“Good evening miss Y/S. How are you feeling?” He asked you politely, his eyes searching yours. You shrugged your shoulders, not trusting yourself to talk just yet.

“Do you remember what happened?” He asked you again to which you just nodded your head, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

“I know its hard, but would you be able to tell us what happened?” You dreaded this question, but took a deep breath before finally answering verbally. You vaguely told them the events of that night. I don’t even know how long I was asleep ran through your head, but you pushed it aside and continued talking. About how they cornered you, taking your want and hexing you. How they grew tired of it after a while and decided to beat you up. How they used one of the Unforgivables on you before someone came to your rescue. How they ran but not before sending some unknown spell in your way. By the end, you were silently crying once again.

“Thank you, dear. You should rest now. Don’t worry about anything else. I’ll come and talk to you when you feel better.” Professor McGonagall thanked you and you heard in her voice how sorry she felt for you. You sent a smile her way, or at least tried to, before they left you again.

“You should really rest now. I’ve put some sleeping and calming draught next to your bed, if you want it.” Madame Pomfrey decided and went to leave you alone before you stopped her.

“May I speak to Remus and Sirius please?” You pleaded with her before adding “it’d make me feel much more at ease.” To which the nurse nodded before disappearing behind the curtain, hopefully snatching the boys. And soon enough, Remus’s head poked from behind the curtain, smiling at you soflty.

“Hi there, darling. James and Lily are here to see you, if you feel like it. If not, that’s completely okay and they understand. Anything to make you comfortable.” You smiled at his thoughtfulness, and you considered it for a second. You didn’t want your friends to see you in such state but you knew that seeing them would make you feel better so you nodded. Soon enough, around your bed were the four most important people of your life. You gently smiled at them, feeling calmer already. Remus carefully sat on your bed, Sirius in the chair next to him with Lily in the chair and James standing next to her on your other side.

“Hi.” you said timidly. Lily almost started to cry when she heard your voice and James laid a protective hand or her shoulder, smiling gently at you.

“Hello there, sunshine.” He responded just as gently.

“Are you feeling any better?” Remus asked you carefully, not wanting to make you cry again or overall worsen your state. You didn’t know whether to say yes or no so you just shrugged.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. We were all so worried.” Lily whispered, looking deep into your eyes. A flashback of her crying when you woke up suddenly popped up in your mind.

“You were here, before I mean.” You realized, looking at her.

“We were all here at some point. You kept on waking up and falling asleep the whole time you were here.” She looked like she wanted to add something, but her quiet sobs prevented it.

“Yeah, you’ve been here for two days. We sneaked in whenever we could. Sometimes you woke up and started babbling some nonsense, sometimes you just screamed. Do you remember any of that?” James added and that’s when you noticed the dark circles under all of their eyes. You felt bad for making them so worried.

“No. I mean, I remember some of it, but it’s all blurry. I remember some other woman tho, I think she was a nurse.” You tried to fish for your memories, but nothing else came to the surface.

“That was nurse Bimley, she came from St. Mungo’s after Dumbledore sent for someone to help you.” Lily explained, now more composed, but it left you even more confused.

“Why? What happened?” You decided to ask, wanting to hear their side of the story. They all looked at each other in apprehension, apart from Sirius, who was uncharacteristically quiet and avoiding eye contact, before Remus decided to put you out of your misery and explain.

“When you didn’t come from your detention, we started to worry. The more time passed, the more terrified we were. James tried to look for the map, but we’ve put it somewhere and none of us were able to find it. We kept on telling ourselves that you were fine, and that Minnie was just making you work extra hard, so we didn’t go to search for you. Something that I’ll never forgive myself for and I’m terribly sorry for it, love.” He took your hand into his and softly squeezed before continuing. “Then some Gryffindor prefect bursted into the command room, ordering everyone to go to bed, that there was an attack on a student, and we weren’t to leave our dorms. I felt my soul leave my body at his words, I swear. We didn’t even take the cloak, we just ran straight to the infirmary. There, we saw...” but before he could continue, Sirius interrupted him, his eyes unfocused as if he was remembering the night.

“It was Reggie. He found you and took you straight to Madam Pomfrey. He saved your life. We found him sitting on the floor, looking like he might pass out or puke. When he spotted us, he quickly started to explain how he didn’t have anything to do with it, how he wasn’t part of it and just tried to help you. I was so confused at that minute but when I saw the look on his face… I just knew that something horrible must have happened to you.” He exhaled, still not looking at you. It was Regulus who helped you. Regulus saved your life. You were tremendously grateful for Sirius’s little brother. Sirius took a deep breath.

“After he calmed down, he explained what happened. Told us that he was just wandering around when he heard screaming, so he went to see what was going on. He found you on the floor with Snape and Mulciber above you with wands in their hands. Doesn’t take a genius to know what was going on. He went to you aid, yelling at them to leave you alone. Before he could make it to your side, they ran away, but Snivellus casted some weird curse at the very last moment. We don’t know what it was but..” he choked on his words, not being able to continued. You could feel the anxiety from remembering that night rolling off of him. James decided to add to his speech.

“It slashed up your whole body.” He said before Remus send a dark and disapproving look his was which shut him up pretty quickly. Thank Merlin for Lily who decided to carry on explaining before the two of them started fighting.

“The curse made numerous of gashes appear on your body, they were all so deep and you were slowly, but surely bleeding out. If Regulus hadn’t brought you to the infirmary so quickly, you’d bleed to death.” She said quietly, not looking into your eyes.

“We heard Poppy screaming at Dumbledore to sent for help, that she wouldn’t be able to safe you by herself. Then he and McGonagall came out of the door and saw us. I don’t think they were even surprised to see us there. Dumbledore left without saying a word, surely to sent for someone from St. Mungo’s, while Minnie stayed behind. She was crying but tried to look strong for us. Told us that you were hurt really badly, but that they were going to help you. Then she made us all leave with a promise that we would be updated as soon as she knew something. She walked us all back to our dorms, even Regulus, to make sure that we wouldn’t try to stay. But once inside the common room, we just snatched the cloak and decided that one of us would always be by your side and we were until you woke up. And now we’re here.” Remus ended the story and a long pause followed. You tried to compose your thoughts but it all seemed too much for you. So I did scream. Your head started to hurt and you were just so fucking exhausted from everything.

“We’re gonna let you rest now, Merlin knows you need it. We’ll be back tomorrow, I promise. I hope you’ll feel better, sunshine.” James broke the silence first and he gently kissed your forehead.

“Thank you, Jamie. For everything. You too, Lils. Please, try to get some proper sleep as well, okay?” You pleaded with them and softly.

“Only you would worry about us getting some sleep while laying in a hospital bed.” Lily shook her head but laughed a little bit and you smiled at them as James took Lily’s hands and they both left, leaving you with your boys.

“I’m so fucking incredibly sorry, my love. We promised you that we wouldn’t let anything happen to you and look where we are now. I’m so so so sorry.” Remus whispered, ashamed of himself.

“We won’t let anything like that happen to you again. I swear on my life. We failed you once, but it’ll never happen again, okay? I’d rather die than seeing you like this again. I’m so sorry, my darling.” Sirius apologized as well and your hear hurt for them.

“This wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have done anything. I don’t blame you and never will. Please, don’t blame yourself either. I’ll be okay.” You tried to reassure them, wishing they wouldn’t be so hard on themselves.

“But it is out fault. We should’ve protect you but instead left you alone to your misery.” Sirius kept on beating himself but you were quick to stop him.

“Please, don’t. You can’t be with me every second and that’s okay. You’re here now and that’s what matters.” Remus looked like he wanted to say something as well, but you stopped him. “Let’s talk some more tomorrow. I’m exhausted and in pain and I just want to sleep. I’m here and I’m alive, that’s what matters.”

“Of course, of course. We’re gonna leave you to rest. Merlin knows you need it. We’ll come back tomorrow.” Remus said as he started to stand up, but you quickly shot your hand to stop him, the quick move making your whole body ache again and you let out a groan. Sirius quickly brought the draughts that Pomfrey left for you to drink and you happily did so while smiling at him in thankfulness.

“Please stay, I don’t wan to be alone.” You whisper shyly when you’ve set the potion down, still holding Remus’s hand. He smiled at you gently but looked unsure.

“Are you sure? You need to get some sleep and we don’t wanna bother you or make you uncomfortable.” He made sure to know you’re comfortable.

“You could never make me uncomfortable. Please, I really need you right now.” You assured him and pleaded with both of them to which Remus nodded and performed a spell to make your bed bigger so all three of you would fit and have space.

“Oh, thank Merlin. I don’t think I’d be able to leave you alone tonight.” Sirius sighed as he laid next to you, very careful not to hurt you. You smiled at his words and turned to him.

“Have you talked to Regulus?” You whispered to him while Remus drew the curtain shut and went to lay on your other side.

“Yeah, sent him a message thanking him and telling him you were okay. He asked if he could see you.” He whispered back to you and gently put his arm under your head, to pull you just a bit closer.

“I’d like that. I wanna thank him myself.”

“I’ll let him know tomorrow. Wanna talk to him myself. But now sleep and don’t worry about a thing okay?” He kissed your head just as Remus lied on your other side and took you into his arms slowly, waiting for a sign of discomfort from you but when you didn’t show any, she kissed your head as well before whispering.

“Sleep now, my darling angel. We’ll be here when you wake up and then every second for the rest of our lives.”

#the marauders #marauders era #marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x reader #sirius black x you #remus lupin x you #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar angst #angst #harry potter #marauders x reader #remus x sirius x reader #fluff

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slasherscream · 11 months ago

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Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. what type of yandere are they

warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Tiffany Valentine / clingy, obsessive, manipulative

You'd better be damn sure you want to be with Tiffany before you ever bring up dating her because there is no escape once you've embarked on the exciting journey of being her romantic partner.

But if we're being honest you never really had a choice. You think you met organically? Became close by fate? No, Tiffany saw you and wanted you and decided to have you.

It was love at first sight on her part.

You'll be friends for a few months as she weaves the inescapable web around you. Best friends, actually. You'll tell her absolutely everything about yourself. Learn everything about her in turn. It's pure bliss to have a friend like Tiffany. Supportive, charming, affectionate.

You can tell she loves you more than anything. Loves you more than anyone else has ever loved you before, and she isn't afraid to show it.

You probably already had a partner when you met Tiffany. She was heartbroken when you first told her. The heartbreak didn't last long. Why cry over spilled milk? She wants to take it slow with you anyways, make sure that this time every aspect of the life you build together will be perfect.

She's come in too heavy before. You can't rush perfection, her mother always told her. For you, the lesson is finally worth learning.

Everything can be a tool. In the right hands. And Tiffany's hands? Why, they're incredibly skilled. She uses your soon-to-be-ex as a diving board for your upcoming relationship with her. Even if you'd been perfectly content with the relationship until you met Tiffany, suddenly everything is awful.

Tiffany points out every mistreatment. Every cancelled date. Every strange tone they used when talking to you. Every shitty, unoriginal gift. Every moment they weren't enthusiastic enough about good news you had to share.

It gets to the point where you can't even look at them half the time. You'll end dates with your partner early just to go spend more time with Tiffany: "What do you think they meant when they said that, Tiff?" / "I think they forgot who they were talking to, sweetheart! They're lucky I wasn't around or I would've cut out their tongue."

Tiffany has you so wrapped around her finger she's not even the one who suggests the break up. She was still going to wait a month or two before she began to truly push.

But when you show up at her doorstep in the middle of the night, holding flowers and her favorite takeout, rambling about how you've been so blind and it's always been Her...

Well, she has to smile as she pulls you in, savoring the last first kiss your lips will ever gift another soul.

She almost forgot how good she is at getting what she wants.

Jordan Li / protective, obsessive, lucid

You're so sweet. It was the first thought Jordan remembers having about you. The beginning of the end. They haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that one fatal moment.

Jordan has plenty of other things to think about. Things that should outclass you in importance easily. Their ranking, Brink's careful mentoring, their grades. They tell themselves that it all still matters more than you but they know they're lying to themselves.

It scares them a little, how much they actually think about you. Not a minute can go by without their thoughts drifting to you.

Did you eat today? / Your next class is in ten minutes, let me walk you, I've got the time. / You were running out of your favorite perfume. Got you a new bottle. / You look upset. Did someone fucking say something to you?

They can't help the way they hover around you during every spare moment they can find.

Jordan knows your schedule by heart to maximize the amount of time you can spend together. It's a balancing act they have to play with their brain for the simplest of tasks: you can spend the rest of the day with Y/N but you have to finish grading these essays first.

They can't function properly when they go too long without you. They swing on their sparring partners too hard. Stare at the clock during lectures instead of listening. They rip textbooks and snap pens by holding them too tight.

Sometimes they have to give up and call you. If they can't go and see you for whatever reason the sound of your voice makes it better. Hearing you talk, the sound of you breathing, laughing. It helps. Calms the buzz beneath Jordan's skin. They dial your contact, glaring into space as they wait for you to pick up. As soon as you do their body relaxes.

They recognize that their behavior isn't normal. Always needing to know where you are, who you're with. Feeling sick when they don't know.

You're like a drug for Jordan. They know you're an addiction, the way you've crawled under their skin. No high on earth compares, and Jordan has fucking compared them all. They pull you into their lap, as close as they can get you and it's never enough. Nothing is ever enough.

"Please don't fucking go anywhere, yeah?" Jordan will mumble into the skin of your neck. Their grip on you is too tight, face twisted at the desperation they feel. It's not pillow talk. They're begging. Genuinely. They'd do anything to keep you this close, always.

"Of course not, Jordie." You coo back. They close their eyes and pretend the words are enough. Nothing ever is.

Nancy Downs / delusional, possessive, obsessive

As soon as Nancy wants you there's no other option for you besides her. You can either choose to go along with it or you can fight it.

Fighting against her is like fighting against the tide, though. You can tread water for awhile. Keep your head afloat, sure. But eventually you'll get tired. Nature wins. Besides, fighting against Nancy becomes unpleasant fast. Being hers is so much nicer. She's gentler that way, kinder.

You're allowed to have friends, she doesn't isolate you completely.

It's just your old friends sucked. They didn't appreciate you. Didn't look out for you. Selfish users just like everyone else. Moths are always drawn to the light, and she'll kill every moth that strays a little too close to you, before it ever gets a chance to singe itself on your warmth. It's a mercy, really. Living a life in the darkness and having one brief moment in the sun is miserable. Nancy should know. It almost drives her crazy when you're not around. If you ever left she'd want to be put out of her misery too.

Her coven, though? They're perfect. Her coven is a family. And you were the last missing piece of it.

Anything about your old life, the life before her, can be viewed as a threat at a moment's notice. Family. Friends. Memories you speak of a little too fondly. Even a hobby could do it. She wants your focus to be her. It's only fair, her only focus is you.

Even when she's not around. Even when you're completely alone you swear you can feel her eyes on you. Her magic drifting against your skin as if she was sitting right beside you.

Nancy's intensity can be scary but she makes anyone else's love seem dull in comparison.

Who else could love you like she does? Who else would die for you? Nancy wouldn't even have to think about it first. All she asks in return is for you to do the same. Live for her. Dedicate every breathe in your lungs to her.

It's not so hard, she'll lead by example.

Jennifer Check / manipulative, possessive, clingy

She couldn't give a shit about anyone else but you. Somehow you managed to sneak your way into her heart and she can't let go of you. Won't let go of you. You're the only thing that's keeping that small, soft, human part of her alive. You dragged that bit of her back from the grave she put it in, actually. So it wouldn't be fair for you to try and leave, after you made her weak again. Human again.

Her world revolves around you. Her priorities are her next meal and you. Of course she gets pissed off if you don't reciprocate her energy. Look at her, how could you ever put anything above her?

Jennifer wants you to be everything to each other, though she won't say it out loud. It shows in her actions.

You belong to her. Every version of yourself that exists in the world should belong to her. The version of you that you are when you're someone's best friend. When you're someone's partner. It's all hers. She won't let anyone else take root in your life in a role that she can fill. She'll do a better job anyways.

The enormity of her ego and the way she clings might seem at odds. She thinks she's a God walking amongst fucking cattle. But she sticks to you like a second skin. A hand always at your waist. Her lips always chasing yours, whining when you don't give in fast enough, when you don't melt like she does. Her grip iron clad when you hold hands. If you pull away too soon from a hug, from a kiss, she bites, she holds on with claws.

She coos at the marks she leaves on your skin and kisses all the scratches and bruises she leaves better. / "I'm sorry baby, you know I hate letting you go."

Carrie White / idolizer, protective, selfless

Not in her wildest dreams did Carrie think anyone could be as kind as you. People are cruel. Their first instinct is to cause hurt before they'll ever reach out a hand to help, to shield, to love.

But you're not like that at all. You're something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that her Mother let her read, that weren't hiding devil worship between their poetic words.

You're so patient with her. So gentle. You treat her like glass. You hold her close, and kiss her soft, and cup her face in your hands that are always so warm.

You say you love her in a breathless way, every time. Like even expressing how much you care makes you dizzy. As if she overwhelms you. She feels dizzy herself as she hangs on your every honeyed word. Clings to you every time you reach out your hands to hold her.

Carrie doesn't know if she believes in God nowadays, but if she did you'd be an angel sent straight from heaven. A gift, maybe, to make up for all the years of torment she endured from everyone she'd ever known.

She'd think you were some kind of God yourself, if you had any sort of abilities like her. But you don't. You walk around doing what's right, being good down to the marrow of your very bones just because it's who you are. You greet the world with your fists raised and you're only human, and it scares Carrie so much.

You're the last decent person alive and you'll throw yourself onto any pyre you see if it means doing what's right. Carrie loves that about you. It terrifies her.

So Carrie throws herself into the ring with you. Your sweet, gentle Carrie who you're always trying to protect. But Carrie doesn't need your protection. She's not the helpless little girl she used to be. She won't let anything hurt either of you, from now on. For the rest of your lives you'll be safe, happy. Together. Carrie would burn the world to ash if it meant not a scratch would befall you.

"You're an angel, Y/N. The most wonderful angel God ever made."

Ginger Fitzgerald / possessive, impulsive, protective,

Sometimes Ginger wishes everyone else in the world would disappear, besides the two of you. They're a hindrance.

She feels insane when she watches you. She feels her claws come out and makes herself bleed as she fights against the instinct to rip out every tongue that speaks to you, and every pair of eyes that's ever looked into yours.

She shivers when you claim her. The only time she enjoys being around other people now is when you're introducing her: "This is Ginger, my girlfriend." "This is Ginger, my partner." "This is Ginger, my best friend." "This is Ginger, my everything."

She loves being yours. Relishes in the way you say the word mine. She wants to lick the words from your mouth, the weight of your total ownership over her sweet and poisonous.

She wonders if you get the same pleasure from belonging to her. She wants you to. She wants to carve her name into your skin with her claws and have you moan at the first sharp sting of the letter G.

It's primal, the way she wants you. Beyond anything humans have words for. She leaves her scent on your skin and wants to growl when you wash it away with artificial soaps and perfumes. She sucks bruises into every inch of you that anyone else could see.

She wants you to do the same. Wants to roll onto her back and expose her neck, and have you bite so hard you draw blood.

Ginger's wanting comes with teeth. What she is demands she sinks her teeth into things, that she draws blood. Even when she loves you. Because she loves you, maybe. She needs to leave a mark on you. She needs to always be there. She needs the same from you.

Needs you to leave scars on her that she can touch when you're not around. Proof that you were there. Proof that you're coming back. You don't carve your name into things and then abandon them. When you own things you keep them.

When you're gone the world goes dim and cold. She couldn't survive in a world without you. She wouldn't even attempt it. What would be the fucking point?

"We're a pair. We belong to each other. Always, yeah?"

#crazy ass girls gang #tiffany valentine x reader #jordan li x reader #jordan li imagine #tiffany valentine imagine #jennifer check x reader #jennifer check imagine #ginger fitzgerald x reader #carrie white x reader #nancy downs x reader #thank you ty and oak for helping me place these guys i was in the trenches #im still in the trenches right now because im down BAD i want them all in a way that #MUST be studied by scientists this shit ain't normal #sorry if this makes me look gay it's because i am #got a little lost in the sauce with ginger HELLO???

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sincerelyyuu · 8 months ago

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hidden affections • itadori yuji

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: after moving to a new school, you quickly gain the affections of a mystery admirer. ➼ pairing: itadori yuji x gn!reader ➼ content/tw: sfw, secretadmirer!yuji, tooth rotting fluff, no curses au, yuji is basically a lovesick puppy and is whipped for reader ➼ wc: 2K words ➼ a/n: desperately in need of some cute yuji content! likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡

Growing up, there weren't many people that Yuji found interesting enough to date. People seemed to gravitate towards his friendly and outgoing personality so making friends came easy to him. Even then, there wasn’t anyone that really caught his eye. Of course, he had his preferences (Jennifer Lawrence being one of them), but no one that he considered passing the threshold of friendship with.

That is until he met you.

Nobara had mentioned a new student was transferring into their class. It was a little unexpected considering it was the middle of the school year, so he was curious as to who this person was. When you first stepped into the classroom, Yuji felt the breath knock out of his lungs.

He always thought the idea of falling in love at first sight was so cheesy and something that only happened in movies. Yet suddenly all of those love songs on the radio made sense. You were the most attractive person he’s ever seen. He hadn’t realized he was staring until Nobara shoved an elbow into his side, snickering at the way his jaw snapped shut from the way it hung open. Meanwhile, you stood at the front of the class, doing your best to smile despite your nerves at all the attention on you.

“This is (y/n). They’ll be joining us for the remainder of the school year. They just moved here, so please do your best to make them feel welcome,” the sensei introduced before turning to you. “You may take a seat.”

Bowing in respect to the teacher and then once more to your new classmates, you briefly scanned the room. You decided to take a seat next to a pink haired male who waved hello enthusiastically to you, already feeling your nerves dissipate from his cheery demeanor.

“(y/n), right? I’m Itadori Yuji,” he greeted with a grin.

“It’s nice to meet you, Itadori,” you returned his smile, pulling the supplies out of your bag to get ready for the lesson. “I like your hair. It kind of reminds me of strawberry milk.”

The words leaving your lips before you could stop them, you looked at him sheepishly, “Sorry, was that weird to say?”

Yuji laughed lightly, a little embarrassed at your thoughts on his hair. “No, it’s fine. I haven’t heard that one before but thanks, I guess.”

“If you want, my friends Fushiguro, Kugisaki and I can show you around. I wouldn’t mind-, I mean, we wouldn’t mind,” he offers, quickly correcting himself and silently cursing himself for lamely stumbling over his words.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to catch it and nodded your head eagerly, “I’d like that a lot.”

Just like that, you found yourself hanging out everyday with this trio of friends who accepted you into their group with open arms. There was rarely a day where you weren’t with them, be it group study sessions in the library or outside of school going on convenience store runs. Among this group, you naturally became closest with Yuji who always made you feel welcomed.

Meanwhile for Yuji, what started as innocent interest quickly evolved into a full blown crush on you. He was drawn to your bubbly and sweet nature and like a moth to a flame, his heart followed you. He found himself thinking of you all the time, wondering about what you liked or what you were up to. Wondering if you thought about him as much as he thought about you.

It was the little things that sent his heart racing. One random day, his number two pencil had rolled off his desk. Leaning down to grab it, his hand brushed against yours feeling the soft skin of your hand against his fingers. You were a step quicker than him and grabbed the pencil first, placing it back on his desk.

“Thanks,” he expressed, doing his best to fight back the rush of heat to his face.

You merely waved him off nonchalantly in an effort to tell him not to worry about it. After that, Yuji would purposely drop his pencils often in class, timing it so that his hands would brush against yours every time. You joked with him about how clumsy he was when in reality, his hand would tremble as it yearned to hold yours.

Yuji never had a problem with expressing himself to others. However, when it came to you, it was like his brain immediately turned to mush. All of his thoughts fly out of his head the minute you're on his mind.

“Why don’t you just tell them how you feel?” Megumi asks him a different day.

“What if they don’t feel the same way?” Yuji whines, plopping his head onto his folded arms on his desk. “It would be so embarrassing if they rejected me.”

“You don’t know unless you try,” his friend replies, mildly amused by the distress on Yuji’s face. “Besides, I’m surprised they haven’t figured it out yet.”

Raising his head, Yuji looks at him in surprise. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Megumi rolls his eyes. “You literally have hearts in your eyes whenever you look at them.”

Did he really? He couldn’t help it. Every time you walked into the room, it was like all he could see was you. The way your eyes light up whenever you wave hello to him. The crinkle of your nose whenever you laugh at something funny he said. Your voice dripping with honey every time you spoke to him. You were absolutely captivating to him.

“Look, I’m just saying that there are other ways to let them know your feelings,” the spiky haired teen suggested cryptically with the gears turning in Yuji’s head as he thought over his best friend’s advice.

The next day, you and Nobara were aimlessly chatting about plans for the weekend. When you walked into class, you were surprised to see a red and brown box sitting on top of your desk. Upon further inspection, you saw it was a pack of chocolate Meiji Hello Panda cookies, your favorite childhood snack.

“Whatcha’ got there, (y/n)?” Nobara asks as she throws her bag to the floor and slips into her desk beside yours.

“Cookies,” you answered and held up the box to her. “Did you see who left these here?”

The ginger shrugged, “Wasn’t from me. Is there a name?”

Taking a closer look at the box, you couldn’t find a sender name. Instead you found a tiny strawberry sticker pasted on the front. Why would someone leave you this on your desk? As if answering your thoughts, Nobara leaned in with a cheeky grin.

“Looks like someone has a secret admirer~,” she teases.

You shook your head at her in disbelief. “I doubt it. Maybe someone is just being nice?” you tried to reason with her.

“Oh, definitely. That’s exactly why I have a box of treats sitting on my desk, too,” Nobara sarcastically retorts and gestures to her empty desk.

You shoved her shoulder playfully with a laugh, opening the box and shaking a couple of the shortbread pandas into her awaiting hand. Hearing a chair screech on your opposite side, you turned to see Yuji looking at you with expecting eyes.

“Hi, Itadori!” you greeted, holding out the box to him. “Want some? Someone really sweet left these for me on my desk today.”

“O-Oh, really? That was nice of them,” he stammered in response.

He stretched out his hand and let you drop a couple of the pieces onto his palm, crumpling the convenience store receipt with the name of the snack inside of his hoodie pocket.

Satisfied with how the first time went, Yuji started leaving anonymous tokens of affection at your desk every day. A single stem of your favorite flower (which he found out through Nobara who had a field day when he told her of his crush on you). A bag of candies as sweet as you. A cute bunny keychain that he won at the local arcade (and spent way too much money to get) that reminded him of you. Each time he would wake up extra early to make sure he was the first one to get to class to leave his little gift.

Feeling a bit braver, Yuji also began writing love notes to you to slip into your locker. Just little one liners onto torn notebook paper of things he wished he could say to you but didn’t have the courage to say to your face.

“Seeing your smile is enough to brighten my whole day.”

“You are my sunshine on my darkest days.”

“Do you understand how amazing you are?”

With every passing day, you wanted so badly to find out who your secret admirer was. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t start to develop a crush on them back. How could you not when they were clearly trying hard to convey their feelings for you in the most endearing way?

The only clue you had was that same strawberry sticker that accompanied each gift and note. You did feel guilty that this mystery person was spending all this time and money on you without getting anything in return. The curiosity was starting to become unbearable.

So, you made up your mind. You were going to find out who this person was whether they were ready or not.

Waking up just as the sun was rising, you hurriedly got ready and made your way to school. Walking through the empty hallways, you stopped just as you were a step away from the door of your homeroom, careful to avoid being seen through the class windows. Your heart accelerated once you heard footsteps inside the classroom. They were already here. Inhaling deeply to steady your rapid heartbeat, you slid open the door.

“...Itadori?” you gasped.

The tall teen looked at you with wide eyes, unceremoniously dropping the adorable shiba dog plushie on your desk. He felt a panic rise in his chest. You weren’t supposed to be here yet. What were you doing here?

Wracking his brain on what to say, he ultimately sighed. Turning to face you, he rubbed the back of his head bashfully, “You finally caught me. It was me.”

You felt your heart grow warm at finally matching a face to all the gifts and the love notes. To think it was your friend Yuji this entire time. As you studied the male, your eyes gravitated up to his strawberry pink locks.

Strawberry. The strawberry sticker. You finally connected the dots. It was his way of telling you it was him and you didn’t even realize it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you questioned softly. Walking up to the tense male, you saw him gulp as you stopped in front of him, looking so nervous and utterly adorable.

Yuji gave a half hearted laugh before replying, “Would you think I’m lame if I told you I was afraid to?"

"You just make me so nervous. I really like you. I’ve liked you for a while now but I didn’t know how to say it without ruining our friendship. I wanted to give you an out in case you didn’t feel the same.”

Picking up the plushie, he tentatively held it out to you. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach at the way you accepted it and held it to your chest affectionately.

“Yuji,” you gently beamed up at him. “Can I call you that?”

Yuji swore he died and went to heaven upon hearing you say his first name. Cheeks flushing, he nodded fervently. He felt his breath hitch when you leaned up to press a kiss to his reddening cheek.

“Thank you for everything,” your voice full of gratitude as you stared into his fawn colored eyes. “For the record, I really like you, too.”

Feeling a sudden wave of confidence, he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him. “Does this mean I can finally take you on a date?” he asks, his cheeks aching from how widely he was smiling.

Hiding your face behind the plushie in your hands, you peered up through your lashes at him with twinkling eyes. Too cute, Yuji thought.

“Just say the word and I’ll be there,” you promised.

712 notes · View notes

amuyyi · 4 months ago

Text

she wants me (to be loved) .

synopsis; you have always loved huh yunjin, but not in the way she loved you.

trope; huh yunjin x f!reader, angst, unrequited (?) love, bittersweet ending

wc; 4.6k

cw; idk like one cuss word LMAO

a/n; i swear im still in forever writers block but THIS FIC IS INSPIRED BY THE SHE WANTS ME TO BE LOVED WARRIOR CATS AMV ON YOUTUBE ITS ABOUT BLUEFUR AND THRUSHPELT PLEEEEK WATCH IT AND/OR LISTEN TO THE SONG WHILE READING IM JUST SO ARRGGHHH also its almost 4 am i am half asleep i just realllyy wanted to finish this. also i used to be a theatre kid so.

You have always loved Huh Yunjin. But not in the way she loved you.

You recall very vividly the first day you met her.

It was the middle of freshman year of high school, and you had just moved into New York from out of state. Your father had just gotten a new job opportunity, and practically wasted no time packing all of your things to move in the middle of the school year. Perfect. New place, new faces, and definitely no friends. Everything an emotional teenage girl needed in a cruical stage of her development. All of the other students in your classes were nice enough, but everyone already had their established friend groups by now, and you simply didn't fit what they were looking for.

Despite the different environment, there was one thing that this school provided that provided some sort of familiarity.

Theater.

Back in middle school and for the brief semester you had in your old high school, you had always been a fan of the big stage. The music, the dramatics, the acting… It was all so whimsical and alluring to you. How could you not get involved?

(Okay, honestly.. You had gotten really into musical theater in middle school once you found a Hamilton animatic and it became your sole personality trait for a good two years or so–)

Unfortunately, you were too much of a coward to truly put yourself out there like the actors around you. High school insecurities and poor self esteem truly did take its toll on you back then. So instead, you settled for being part of the stage crew.

You thought that getting involved with a club would make it easier for you to socialize and make friends. You could join a community. Yet somehow, it made everything all the more difficult.

Everybody seemed to already know each other and have their own established friends. On top of that, everyone also seemed to know who they hated as well. You would always overhear what other actors and techies would say about one another and it only just put you off from making friends even more. The whole environment was incredible… cliquey.

Still, you had nothing else better to do, so you stayed. It was… Fine. You still had no real friends, but you did enjoy doing various tasks around the stage. Working with stage lights, helping prepare costumes, painting backdrops. It keeps you busy. It was routine.

It wasn’t an uncommon sight to walk in on actors practicing their lines or their songs backstage. Back home, you knew everyone involved within the production– including the actors. You would always compliment them and occasionally even provide help whenever you didn’t have your own techy jobs to fulfill. The main problem? This isn't home. Nobody here was your friend.

But when you found a pretty girl practicing for this semester's production of Phantom of The Opera in an empty hallway, you couldn't help but stop in your tracks and stare. You’ve never seen her before. Well, it's not like you bothered to pay much attention to the people around you anymore— but you feel like you wouldn't miss a face like hers.

She had the prettiest brown hair with highlights and the cutest beauty mark near the corner of her mouth. She was pacing around the hall, script in hand as she did various vocal exercises. The sound of her voice echoes off the walls, and it was just as angelic as she looked.

“Prima Donna, your song shall live again…!” She sings out, her voice at a steady yet powerful vibrato throughout her verse. Her Bel Canto was skilled and practiced, and you can't help but wonder how long she’s been doing this for. Surely she’s overqualified for a simple high school production? You needed to hear more…

She moves her hands in elegant and dramatic forms as she immerses herself into the self-centered character of Carlotta. She played the roke perfectly, considering how most definitely had your attention now.

“You took a snub, but theres a public who needs you, think of the cr—“

A loud thud rings throughout the hallway, startling the mystery opera singer as well as yourself. Shit. You look down and see the culprit. Well, it was you. you caused the interruption— but more specifically, it was a freshly decapitated mannequin head with a wig you were going to more securely attach to the top. It was a bit of a horrific sight, in all honesty.

Now that you think about it, this prop might actually be for her. Though you didn't have much time to ponder that thought considering the mysterious brown haired beauty has now caught you eavesdropping on her singing.

The head rolls across the tile floor and lands at her feet. You feel your face warm to what was most likely a bright tomato red as she picks it up by its shortened neck, the wig threatening to fall off as it dangles limply off of the top of its head.

“I'm assuming this is yours?” She smiles kindly at you, though a bit wary. Understandable, really. You would be wary of yourself too if you were in her shoes.

“Y-Yeah, sorry…” you nervously laugh, taking the head from her hands as you try to pat the wig back into place.

“You sounded good, by the way!” You quickly stammer out, absentmindedly hugging the head to your chest, “Like… really good. Seriously.”

The mystery girl laughs at your flustered words, and she waves her hand dismissively. Her cheeks warm bashfully as she shakes her head.

“Thanks but… I have a lot to work on. My tones off, and I still need to memorize these lines by tomorrow…” she trails off, moving to press her back against the wall, sliding and sitting down on the floor.

Fiddling a bit with the mannequin head, you don't allow yourself to think too hard before you suddenly blurt out.

“I-I can help!”

You watch as her pretty brown eyes widen slightly, and

“Really? You sure you arent too busy?

You were actually quite busy, but she didnt have to know that.

“Of course not,” you lie confidently, sticking a hand out, “I’m y/n.”

She eyes your hand curiously, but ultimately shakes it, “Yunjin. Jennifer, if you’d like.”

From then on, you would spend every other day after school with Yunjin, helping her recite her lines, fitting her for costume changes, and even finishing that mannequin head prop for her.

Soon after, your after school hangouts turned into out of school hangouts and then eventual sleepovers every weekend. You learned everything possible about Yunjin. Like how she had always dreamed of being a performer, how she wanted to make it big in the Kpop industry, how she loves snakes…

Since then, you knew you loved her.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

On one seemingly normal spring afternoon, you were abruptly torn away from your sunkissed siesta with the sound of your door being kicked open.

With the growing bond between you and Yunjin, you made the mistake of giving the girl a spare key to your own home. (Oddly enough, your parents werent against the idea. They considered Yunjin like a second daughter.)

You whine out as she grasps at your half asleep form, shaking you aggressively.

“I got accepted into a company, y/n!! I'm gonna be a trainee!”

Eyes shooting open, you try to sit up through the aggressive grip Yunjin had on you.

“No kidding?” You croak out, looking at her with disbelief.

“I'm not!” She cheers, bouncing happily through your bedroom. Trying to match her energy through the grogginess, you slip out of bed, stumbling a bit as you tumble into her arms. Yunjin laughs at your state, wrapping her arms around your waist to keep you steady as she jumps excitedly.

“I’m going to move back to Korea next month— this is so exciting!!” She squeals out, and your smile falters ever so slightly. Move? To Korea?

Still, you bite back the sickly feeling developing in your stomach as you squeal alongside her.

You were happy for her, and did nothing but support her all throughout her time in Korea. Called her every night after training, sent her pictures of school life without her, even voting for her in that odd survival show she participated in. You did anything and everything you could to be the best friend you could be.

Yunjin always had the stars in her eyes. But in yours? There was only ever her.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The day that everything truly changed is still fresh in your mind.

After spending years chasing after Yunjin, it feels like you have finally caught up to her. She's back in the states after her time in Korea, and she's planning on staying. She looked a little different than before, but it was the same old Jennifer you knew and loved— even when missing a few moles and deeper eyebags.

Upon her arrival back home, it was like no time had passed. Once again attached at the hip, as it should be. You practically made it your job to crawl into her skin at any given moment and to pamper her with all of her favorite things.

You would treat her to meals, spontaneous shopping sprees, and simple girls nights out. All of the good stuff to make up for lost time. Unfortunately, your attempts to keep your best friend happy came with their own obstacles. you would occasionally find advertisements or clips of idols that would show up during your time together, and for just a brief moment, you would see that usual spark within Yunjin’s eyes falter. It was a stark reminder of what she could have had.

It hurt you to see her get reminded of her time as a trainee. It truly was everything she wanted and more. But it was okay, you were here now, and you weren't planning on letting her go this time.

You’d drop any and everything for Yunjin. You allowed her to vent whenever she needed, to come over whenever she wanted, and to indulge in spontaneous late night meals whenever you two felt like it.

Needless to say, your wallet was crying by the time summer was nearing its end, but you didn’t mind at all. Yunjin was back. She was happy. You were happy. Things were finally returning to normal.

The two of you decide on a college to attend together in Boston, both pursuing a major in business. It's neither of your first choices in majors, but it's a good enough money maker in the long run.

The pair of you sat in Yunjins bedroom, with you comfortably propped up against her bedframe on the floor whilst the brunette lay comfortably on the mattress. You hugged the djungelskog plushie you had gifted Yunjin some birthday ago close to your chest as you atared at your phone, with Yunjin crunching away on cheez-its as the entire La La Land soundtrack softly plays from the record player in the corner of the room.

Its nearly less than a month until move in day at Boston University, and you feel beyond giddy. Actual independence? And spending it with your best friend slash secret crush? Your dreams were coming true. Looking through your college dorms on the website, the pair of you converse about the future.

“What kind of theme do you think we should go for our dorm?” you ask, leaning your head against the bed to look up at Yunjin, who was still crunching away contentedly at her snacks.

“I'm not sure… But I do know I want to cover my wall with all of my posters…”

“Ooh! Yeah!! I can add fake flowers on the walls…”

“ Of course, we need a bit of girlish charm— oh! we need to make room for a record player and my guitar.”

“Google maps says there's a 7-eleven near the campus…” you murmur, your short attention prompting you to immediately shift to another topic.

“ Should we go got late night snack runs?”

“Duh.”

“Or maybe if we get tired of the dorm food, we can get equally as crappy convenience store food for instead–”

Suddenly, the music from Yunjin’s phone gets cut off, being replaced with her ringtone (it was Come Inside Of My Heart by IV of Spades ) as she huffs.

“ sorry, hold that thought..” She murmurs, answering the call.

You didn't know any Korean, the only bits you’re familiar with are the phrases Yunjin taught you to talk with her parents (which you also butchered) so you naturally begin to tune out whatever she begins to say on her end. Despite this though, you easily pick up on the shift in tone as she speaks. Professionalism, skepticism, to Shock. That was all you could read off of Yunjin as you looked up from your phone, curiously glancing at her. Her eyes were boggling out of her skull, and she placed a hand over her mouth before ending the call.

The brunette remains frozen in place, hand still over her mouth as a silence passes over the room.

“So….?” You ask, crawling up onto the bed to sit next to her.

Yunjin’s voice is shaky, yet laced with a twinge of excitement and disbelief as she speaks, “I just got a call from Hybe. I… I have the chance to debut.”

You don’t know what came over you at that moment. It felt like the world came collapsing down on you. Right now, you should be happy. Jumping for joy, focusing all on Yunjin and her chance for success. She's been given a real chance to make her dreams come true, even after it seemed impossible, even after all the years of rejection and work. This was all she wanted in life and more— you should be happy? Right?

But you’ve always been a selfish person. Or maybe you convinced yourself you were ever since that day. You don’t know. Maybe in that moment, you realized you could lose everything you’ve been waiting for. You’d lose the girl you've chased after for so many years now. If you didn't do something now, you wouldn’t have the chance to do it ever again. You were a greedy person, so you confess.

“Yunjin, I love you. I always have.”

The words feel like a slap to the face, and it shows. It shows in the way her eyes widen and smile falls. This was a bad idea, but you can't back out now. Your eyes begin to water as your voice cracks.

“I… I don’t want you to go— to leave me…” you choke out, “What about uni? Our dorm? What am I going to do without you?”

You knew you were being manipulative, you knew you were being selfish. But you didn’t care. You wanted her to know how you truly felt. You didn’t want her to leave you, not again. Your heart couldn’t handle it.

Through tears threatening to spill out, you can see her cheeks slowly dust a faint shade of pink as she processes your words. She seems… hesitant. Over what? You weren’t too sure. You weren’t too sure if you even wanted to know.

The silence that washes over the two of you is beyond suffocating. You feel like you’re drowning, digging your nails into your palms as you look away. If you looked at her, you were scared you’d break, and the tears would begin to flow. After a few moments that feel like hours, she finally responds.

“I believe you have feelings for me…” she begins, voice soft yet strained. For some reason, those words leave a bad feeling in your gut. You muster up enough courage to meet her gaze. She looked just as hurt and conflicted as you felt. Yunjins grip on her phone tightens as she takes a deep breath, continuing, “...but I can’t give this up, y/n. It's my dream.”

That was the moment you knew you truly lost her.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

In another life, you and Yunjin would be at Boston University together, pursuing that business degree that neither of you want.

It's a dream that used to occasionally return to you when Yunjin was overseas. Every now and then, you’d wake up in a cold sweat, and you’d check Yunjins location. She’d still be in Seoul. It was okay though, because you knew she’d always come back. She always came back. Now it haunts you every other night.

The dream is always so incredibly vivid and real. You would wake up to Yunjins many alarms that she somehow manages to sleep through every single time, and you’d peel your eyes opened to your shared dorm room. Though you didn’t have much time to admire the beauty of it all through the sound of an alarm continuously dragging you out of your slumber. She’s always been a heavy sleeper. you’d have to jump on Yunjins sleeping form to even stir her into some form of consciousness.

Yunjin groaned in protest, but you knew her. She wasn’t truly bothered, not when it came to you. Instead of entertaining your futile attempts to wake her up, she would wrap her arm around your waist, dragging you down with her as you squeal out.

She's warm. Her brown bobbed hair has grown out by now, black roots peeking through the top of her head as you join the mess that is her bed (and hair.) She smells like vanilla and wood, and you can't help but laugh into her embrace. You’ll be late to the dining hall for breakfast, but it doesn't really matter. There was a 7-eleven nearby that could provide breakfast while the two of you rushed to your classes– in which you had meticulously planned to have almost every single class together.

After a long day of school, you would return back to your dorm both collapsing on your respective beds as exhaustion settles in. It was decorated just the way you two liked it. With both boy and girl band posters littering the walls alongside some fake vines, flowers, and a multitude of polaroids you two have accumulated over the years.

Once the two of you move out of the dorms and graduate, you’d find an apartment to share. Dual income and no children, that was the way to live. Alongside a cat and a dog, of course. You’d have a black cat named Binx, and a golden retriever named Dug, something you two had discussed many times before.

It’s beyond perfect. You lay on the couch, comfortably in Yunjins arms as a blanket is lazily draped over your forms. Binx is settled upon your lap as Dug takes up the space on the rug. The tv is playing Coraline— a staple movie for you two, and you'd smile. Yunjin would lovingly return the grin, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your lips.

And then you’d wake up, the grim reality of your situation compared to your dream sending tears flowing down your cheeks. You’re constantly reminded how Yunjin wasn't yours. Not in this lifetime. And it hurt more than anything else.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You’ve always been there for Yunjin, both before and after she became famous.

In High school, you of course supported her throughout your brief time in the drama club. But you also provided a shoulder to cry on, a free source of math homework answers, a friend.

When she moved back to Korea to become a trainee, you helped her through the rough patches. Hours of dance training, rigorous workouts, and unhealthy dieting took a toll on her. But you were always there through the phone, no matter the time.

Even after her debut, you remained loyally by her side. Yunjin grew busier and more distant over the years, and it was understandable. You were busy too. With college, internships, and general “adulting,” it was a challenge to remain in contact. Still, when you two did find time to talk, Yunjin would tell you stories of her members, of the rumors and scandals that would plague the group. It hurt to see her hurting, especially knowing you couldn't be there for her like before. But you were glad to see her achieving all she wanted and more.

You hop into one of Yunjins late night livestreams (even if it was the morning for you.) It wasn’t like you couldn’t just call her whenever you wanted, but it was just another one of the little things you would do to continuously support your friend. Yunjin never made a scene whenever you popped in, but always made sure to look for your comments and read them out every single time.

“Sing something from Phantom or you’re lame?” She reads out, a soft laugh slipping past her lips as she does so.

The idol gives the camera a knowing look, one that only could be read by you, and you smile as she clears her throat. Phantom of the Opera is what brought you two together, after all. She spends a few minutes doing short vocal exercises to warm up her voice, and the sight is oddly nostalgic. Yunjin then sits up straight as she begins to sing, and you feel your heart twinge slightly at her song choice.

“Think of me,

Think of me fondly,

When we've said goodbye.

Remember me,

Once in a while,

Please promise me you'll try.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Now here you were, in a completely foreign country, placed in more than accommodating seats within the VIP section of this unfamiliar venue you’ve never even heard of before. There were hordes of men around you, all cheering in a deep voiced mass for the girls on stage. You stuck out like a sore thumb. Yet, there was Yunjin. You watch her, shining brightly on stage whilst donning a fresh head of bright orange hair. It suited her. Her fiery passion, her fierce determination that got her here in the first place, her glowing smile. It was all only a physical expression of who she was on the inside.

Yunjin had insisted on getting you these tickets– even going out of her way to even cover part of your plane ticket here despite you having a very stable and office job now. You tried to tell her you were happy enough to see her from the nosebleed seats in the back, especially since it was all you could afford on such short notice. But she refused, pulling some strings to give you the best seats possible. She wanted you here. More than anyone else.

You’ve seen Yunjin perform before. How could you not? You could vividly recall the way she would sing out and capture the entire crowd’s attention from the stage of your high school’s auditorium. How she would perform with such confidence and precision, how she performed like she was made for this.

Things have changed a lot since then. There was no business college in your future together anymore. No planned dorms together. No more late night talks. No 7-eleven snack runs. Yet oddly enough, despite the changes, this was seemingly no different than before. Every person in the crowd was entranced, immediately allured by her natural charm and her passionate voice. You included. Just like those many years before, she still managed to have you bewitched on the sidelines while she chases after the spotlight.

So you cheer. Joining the roaring crowd as you call out Yunjins name, a bright smile playing on your lips as you do so. You’ve always been her biggest fan, after all. You swear you saw her make eye contact with you, seemingly providing her an energy boost as she sings out to the audience. She was beautiful, and she knew it.

Once the show is over, you find your way to the backstage area. You tried your best to explain to the security how you were friends with one of the members, and how she invited you back there. Unfortunately, your Korean was less than conversational, and you pretty much looked like an embarrassingly desperate and obsessive fan until Chaewon came and saved the day.

“y/n-nnie! Come, Come!! I saw you in the crowd!!” She chirps out sweetly, abruptly pushing past the guard and dragging you backstage, leaving the security both confused and a bit exhausted. This might not have been the first time the girls have tried to meet with their friends after performances.

There were people everywhere. Stage hands, stylists, makeup artists, and more, all rushing around you two and occasionally praising Chaewon. You felt beyond out of place, and probably looked the part too. Despite having Yunjin as a friend, you’ve never once felt like you were friends with a celebrity. She was simply your Jennifer, and that was more than enough. Being here though, you could truly see the extent of the impact she had on people. How so many people respected her and admired her.

Lost within your thoughts and observations of the crowd, you barely notice when Chaewon lets go of your arm, leaving you to fall victim to a bright orange mass stampeding your way. Without warning, you’re tackled into a hug by none other than Yunjin herself. You swear you see stars as the air gets forced out of your lungs.

“y/n!! You made it!!” She beams, giving you a firm squeeze pulling away to fully take in the sight of you. Her arms are still firmly wrapped around your form as her eyes almost sparkled with pure affection for you. Your cheeks warm at the contact, and you can't help but shyly avoid her gaze. Even after all of this time, she still has the same effect on you. After letting out a soft breath, she quietly murmurs, “I was singing for you, y’know.”

And your heart aches. Aches for what you two could have had. Aches for feelings she chooses not to reciprocate. You want to be angry with her. Despise her for leaving you behind and living this luxurious celebrity life.

Yet your heart also swells. Swells with pure affection for the girl you love. The way she holds you, how she insists on having you attend, how sweetly she says your name. All of it makes you crumble all too easily. She truly cares for you, and never let the fame change that. You truly were lucky to have her.

“Really, now? You sure you weren't singing for the sea of men you forced me to sit with?” You laugh out, gently shoving her, “I swear I heard a guy say he ditched a family dinner to be there.”

Yunjin loudly laughs at your comment as she shakes her head, “How about you come over to our dorms to celebrate tonight, yeah? We’ll even let you pick a movie – or I’ll make them watch whatever you choose… Please?”

You were a bit hesitant. These were Yunjin’s friends. You didn’t want to intrude, especially after a crazy night like this. Yet, despite your reluctance, Yunjin stares down at you with those damn puppy eyes, and somehow manages to get Eunchae and Chaewon to join in…

“... Okay, fine,” you groan out, feigning disappointment as you see Yunjins eyes light up. “but we’re watching Coraline.”

The girls all cheer and pull you into a tight hug, with Yunjin holding onto you just a bit tighter than the others.

Huh Yunjin loves you. But not in the way you want. Yunjin wants you to be loved.

And loved you are, even if it means she can't be yours.

#kpop fanfic #gg fanfic #kpop #kpop x female reader #gxg #kpop gg #kpop x fem reader #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim x fem reader #wlw #gxg imagine #yunjin x female reader #Spotify

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hoejosatoru · 3 months ago

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Worth the Wait

Pairing: Fem!Reader X Togame jo, character all 21+, readers hair color/texture and skin color unspecified

Summary: You never thought much of you're little brother's best friend when you were younger. He was just another annoying kid your brother brought around. But Togame grew into himself in adulthood, totally changing your view of him. Little did you know he has been crushing on you for quite some time.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: smoking, Togame has like some pervy thoughts I guess, face sitting, unprotected sex, cream pie, Choji calls while they're fucking and Togame answers, don't read if aging up characters bothers you. Not proof read. MDNI

Togame could remember the first time he saw you easily. The sight of you laying out in a bikini was quite literally seared into his brain.

He'd been friends with Choji for awhile at that point. They became fast friend after Togame had moved into the neighborhood and started at the same middle school as Choji. They bonded over their mutual disinterest in academics and a shared interest in getting in trouble.

That day was the first time Togame went to Choji's house. It was warm, one of the first days of summer break. Togame was excited to have a whole 2 months of freedom from the drag of classes and homework. He was certain this first summer in Choji's friend group would be one to remember. But first, they needed money for the arcade.

When Togame rounded the corner into Choji's backyard and saw you laying there he stopped dead in his tracks. Choji had mentioned he had a sister, but pretty much only spoke of you being a bitch. Togame really hadn't thought much of what you'd look like. Really, he just imagined Choji with long hair and lipstick, which wasn't a pretty sight. It was safe to say you were nothing like he expected.

His eyes had shamelessly raked up and down your body as you tanned. The skimpy bikini you wore made him damn near weak in the knees. He could tell you were older, probably in high school. Realistically, it was only a few years older than he was, but it made you seem so adult, so out of his league.

"What are you losers doing here?" You had grumbled when you noticed their presence. The look you gave them was disinterested, bordering on rude, but it sealed Togame's fate. He reckons his affinity for mean women was sparked in that moment.

And so for many years he's harbored this crush on you. Of course he had other girlfriends and hook ups, but none could live up to the enigma that you were. His want of you was the only secret he kept from Choji, considering it to be bad bro code to tell your friend how hot you thought their sister was. His secrecy proved to be good judgement.

Every once in awhile, some idiot new recruit would make a comment about how hot you were within Choji's earshot and let's just say they met a very unpleasant ejection from the gang. The worst he saw was the guy who said he'd 'like to have your lips around his dick.' Nobody dared even look at you for a while after that.

That comment was crude, even for Togame's standards. But he would be a hypocrite if he didn't admit he thought things like that. He wasn't particularly proud to admit what he'd done with those thoughts. Many times he had fisted his cock to the thought of you, wishing he could blow his load inside you rather than in his hand.

He'll never forget the time he was over and you walked out of the bathroom in just a towel. Your skin was flushed and glistening from the shower. "Out of my way weirdo," you had snapped, pushing past him. He hadn't cared you called him a weirdo, not one bit. Your skin had brushed against him, all while you were wearing nothing but a towel. The thought of just a single strip of fabric separating your naked body from him is what really did him in. He ended up jerking off in the bathroom, shooting ropes of cum into the toilet. Definitely not his proudest moment, but better than having someone notice he was rock hard.

For you, Togame was not someone you payed much attention to for the longest time. When Choji was a kid he was... a bit much. He often didn't keep friends long and so you never bothered to learn names or even faces. Togame, though, was the first friend Choji had that lasted. But that didn't really change your opinion of him for awhile. He was just another one of your brother's weird friends.

However as you got older, the bickering between you and your brother lessened and you developed a closer relationship. Because Choji and Togame spent so much time together, it naturally led to you becoming more acquainted with him.

On this particular evening you were at a Shisitoren party. Choji tried to keep you from attending his gang's parties for the longest time, but it would be a cold day in hell before you let your little brother tell you what to do. When you slipped out of the packed house to get some air, you found Togame smoking a joint in the backyard.

Togame had changed a lot since you met him. He'd always been on the taller side, but lanky in his youth. In adulthood he had shot up even more, towering over you. But it wasn't just height that grew, it was his whole stature. He'd become so much broader, muscle defining his body. You would have once described his eyes as goofy, too big for his face. Now they sat perfectly with his features, the emerald tone entrancing. It hit you one day that you found your little brother's friend attractive and you didn't really know what to do with that.

"What are you doing out here Togame?" you questioned, pulling his joint out of his hands and taking a hit. If anyone else did that, he'd find it annoying, but from you? He loved it. He couldn't pull his eyes away from your lips as the wrapped around it, his mind immediately going to a very inappropriate place.

"Think you've known me long enough to call me Jo," Togame replied, purposefully brushing his fingers against yours as you passed the joint back to him. He could taste your gloss on it as he took another hit. It was sweet, like candy. He wished he could taste it on your lips.

"Guess you're right about that," you said. Togame held out the joint for you to finish. Instead of taking it, you leaned and allowed him to hold it as you took a hit. "Thanks Jo." You made a point to over emphasize his name as your eyes flicked up to his. Togame grinned, the sound of his name as you smoked his weed making his body buzz.

"You never answered my question by the way."

Togame shrugged. "It was a bit crowded in there. The new recruits are..."

"Lame?" you finished for him. All of them seemed too nervous to talk to you. It made these parties rather boring.

"Ya know if someone talks shit about our guys I'm supposed to kick their ass," Togame replied.

"I'd like to see you try. Choji isn't the only one in the family that can fight," you said.

Togame smirked. "That's kinda hot."

The last few months, your relationship felt shifted with Togame. You weren't sure if it was just because you realized you were attracted to him, and thus you were reading into things more. You noticed he dropped little comments like that, seemingly a joke but certainly could be suggestive. Not that you were innocent of this; you had done your fair share of flirting recently.

"Just kinda? That's disappointing," you replied. "Though I guess that's all I'm gonna get from you Shisitoren guys. My brother's got you all on a leash."

"The guys are scared of Choji," Togame shrugged. "You know how he is."

"Well I'm not scared of him. I'm his older sister, I don't need him trying to control me," you said.

Togame put his hands up innocently. "Hey don't shoot the messenger. I'm just saying that's what the guys are thinking. They fuck you or something and Choji will be on their ass." Togmae couldn't contain his interest. "Is there a guy here you're trying to hook up with?"

It was moments like this you felt that Togame could look right into your head and read your thoughts. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Togame grinned. "Oh I would." He was silent for a beat, considering his next move. Maybe it was the weed lowering his inhibitions, or the way you've been more flirtatious, or just his patience wearing thin after all these years, but he was feeling bold. He took a step closer yo you, his scent filling your lungs. You had to tilt your head up to look at him. "But you may like to know that I'm not scared of Choji."

Oh?

"Hmm, I think I'm gonna need you to prove that to me, Jo," you challenged.

Togame's eyes twinkled with desire. He had a good feeling you were gonna take him up on the offer, but hearing you confirm it made him almost giddy. "We could leave now and no one would notice." Togame gesturing to the party going on inside. "You have your own place now, right?"

And the next thing you knew, Togame was on top of you in your bed. He kissed you deeply, his mouth confident and languid against yours. You had a sneaking suspicious Togame would be a good kisser and you were absolutely right. You slid your fingers into his dark hair, gripping it to pull him closer.

"Fuck," Togame pulled away, slightly breathless. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." His eyes slid over your body, licking his lips at the thought of stripping your clothes off you.

"Don't tell me you've had a crush on me Togame," you teased. You nipped at his neck, grinding your body up against his.

"Guilty," Togame replied, slipping his hands under your shirt. "I'll never forget the first time I saw you. You were in this tiny little bikini. Been dreaming bout what your tits look like ever since."

You laughed, vaguely remembering the day he was talking about. "But I was such a bitch to you."

Togame squeezed your tits over your bra. "That's why I liked you." He yanked your top off and made quick work of your bra. "Even better than I imagined," he grinned. He licked up the valley between your breast as he massaged them with his hands. His lips found your right nipple, sucking on it to the point of sensitivity while he rolled your left nippled between his fingers. You let out soft moans, rubbing against him for friction. He could feel himself getting harder by the minute, but he was not rushing this after all this time. He kissed is way over to the other breast, repeating the process.

When he finally pulled away, he couldn't help but smile as he admired his work. Your tits were red and swollen from his sucking, glistening with his salvia. He wished he could take a picture.

"You look hot like this," he mused. You took the opportunity of him being distracted to flip him over so you were on top of him straddling his lad. Togame looked up at you with surprise and desire.

"Bet I look even hotter like this," you replied, slipping your hands his shirt and pulling it off. Togame couldn't argue with that. He went to grab your tits, but you slapped his hand away. "No touching till I say so."

Togame let out a groan as you pinned his hands over his head and kissed him. It was maddening, feeling your lips and tongue tangle with his all while you rocked your core against his hardened cock. He wanted to touch you so bad, but not being able to mad it hotter some how. He'd never been with a woman who took charge at all and he loving every second. You both knew he could over power you if he really wanted, but he didn't. He enjoyed feeling at your mercy.

"What do you wanna do to me, Jo?" You asked against his neck. You licked and sucked at his skin.

"Wanna taste you so fucking bad," he replied, his hips grinding up against your. His cock was staring against his boxers and pants, desperate for release, but there was no way he was passing up an opportunity to bury his face in your cunt.

"Mmm want me to sit on your face, huh?"

"Please." There was an edge of desperation to his voice that drove you wild. You released his arms, allowing him to help you out of the rest of your clothes. He licked his lips as you crawled up his body, positioning yourself over him. Togame gripped your hips and pulled you down on to him. He moaned into your cunt as he licked up your slit.

Togame took his time, exploring your cunt with lush, languid strokes of his tongue. He swirled around your clit, sucking it lightly, before teasing your hole. He pressed his tongue deeper inside you, pulling a sensual gasp from your lips.

"Fuck Jo." You rocked your hips against his face, chasing the high that was building up in your body. His nose brushed against your throbbing clit, heightening your pleasure. Togame fucked his tongue into faster, desperate to feel you cum on his face.

His wish was granted with just a few more flicks of his tongue. You cried out his name, the sweetest sound he ever heard, as your body pulsed with pleasure. Your release coated his lips and and tongue and he drank it all in.

"Fuck you're so sweet," Togame panted when you finally slid off of him. He was shamelessly licking his lips clean. He climbed on top of you, an eager glint in his eyes. "If I have to wait any longer to be inside you my dicks gonna explode."

You snorted and rolled your eyes. "How charming."

Togame stripped off his pants and you shamelessly stared at the size of him. Not only was he long, but deliciously thick. Your thighs rubbed together in anticipation.

Togame couldn't contain the deep groan as he slid inside you. He's fantasized about this moment countless times. He's dreamed of how it would feel to have your cunt wrapped around him, sucking him into your wet warmth. Not one of his fantasies compared to the real feel of you.

"Fuck angel you feel amazing." He slowly rolled his hips, savoring every inch of you squeezing him. He couldn't go any faster, not just because he didn't wanna rush this moment, but because he didn't trust himself not to bust too quickly. You were happy to let him take his time as you adjusted to stretch of him deep inside you.

Suddenly, Togame's phone buzzed on where he left it on your nightstand. "Shit it's Choji," he grumbled.

"Are you seriously answering that right now?" you questioned.

"I gotta, he'll be suspicious if I don't." You were about to protest, but Togame already clicked the little green accept call button. "What's up Choji?" he said casually. You could only hear one side of the conversation, but you got the gist of it.

"Your sister?" Togame replied. His eyes dropped down to where he was buried deep inside. "No, sorry I don't know where she is." He winked at you, smiling wickedly. You rolled your eyes, not a Togame, but at your brother for questioning your whereabouts.

"Oh, I'm sure she's doing just fine," Togame smirked at you. "Probably just got bored and went home... yeah I went home too, recruits were boring the shit out of me... sure, if I hear anything about it I'll call you." Togame hung up and tossed his phone aside. "You might wanna text your brother, he's annoyed he can't find you."

Your grumbled, reaching for your phone. The last thing you wanted to do was text your brother while a man - his best friend no less - was literally inside you. But you didn't trust him to not show up unannounced. Unsurprisingly you had a few missed texts from him.

Relax dude I just got tired and left

And I don’t need you calling Togame to hunt me down

"Alright now you better fuck me good enough that I forget you literally answered a call from my brother mid sex," you snapped at him. You wrapped your legs around his hips and pressed him deeper into you. The pressure caused him to lean lower over you, his face just inches from yours.

"My pleasure." Togame was so deep in you as fucked into you. You nipped at his neck and shoulders, stifled your moans against his warm skin. "God, you feel so fucking good," he babbled, "Never had pussy like this."

Your cunt fluttered at his words, only egging him on more. You could feel him throbbing inside you as you dragged your nails down his back. Togame gritted his teeth, loving how the pain of it missed with pleasure. It didn't take much more of his fat tip brushing your sweet spot to pull another orgasm from you.

"Jo -ngh." Your whole body shook with bliss. You clamped down on Togame impossibly harder, pulling a string of curses from him.

"Fuck, can I cum in you?" Togame groaned. He was so grateful that you nodded eagerly because honestly he wasn't sure if he would have been able to stop himself. With a low grunt his hips stuttered and spilled inside you. You rolled your hips up to meet his, savoring the full, warm feeling. Togame held thought he died and went to heaven.

"My middle school self would be so proud of me right now," Togame said when he finally rolled off you. "So worth the wait."

"You're still kinda weird," you replied, "but that was good enough that I'll let it slide."

Togame grinned. "That's all just part of my charm." You rolled your eyes and reached to check your phone. 5 missed texts from Choji.

Okay good. Don't leave without telling me next time

Wait... how did you know I called Togame?

Are you with Togame?

Y/n fucking answer me

I'm going to fucking kill him

Shit.

"Uh, I may have gotten you in trouble," you said. You flipped your phone over for Togame to read. You expected him to get angry or freak out, but he only shrugged.

"Like I said, I'm not scared of him." Togame yawned, truly unbothered. "Besides, you were so worth as beating."

#finally I release something #it's been 5 million years #togame smut #togame jo x reader #togame x reader #togame x you #wind breaker smut #wind breaker headcanons #wind breaker x reader

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jaystardust · 8 months ago

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⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ MY STUPID BIRTHDAY

Pairing: Park Sunghoon x reader

Genre: fluff, a bit of angst, childhood friends to enemies to lovers, apparition of Jake, Sunoo, Jungwon and Minji (nwjns)

Warnings: slight humiliation, mention of food (tell me if I forget something)

Summary: in a world where every day counts, some days stand out more than others. for y/n, that day is her birthday, a day she shares with her best friend Sunghoon. but at their joint 16th stupid birthday celebration, an incident fractures their friendship

Words count: 3,9K

A/N : it's my first time posting a fic here, i had this idea popping into my head and decided to write something, idk if I will continue to write others in the future but I had so much fun writing this !! i hope you will enjoy it ( I don't really know if it is good or no tbh 😭😭), don't hesitate to give me some feedback or request something 💗

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365 days a year, sometimes even 366 days…you can say it's a lot.

Of all the days in the year, you chose your favorite. Some people like to choose Christmas or Halloween, while others prefer to be original and choose the day when the cherry trees blossom or the first snow falls. But you preferred to keep it classic, a day that might be banal for some, or cliché for others because your favorite day of all was your birthday.

What made this day so magical for you was the fact that you had the chance to share this date, so exceptional in your eyes, with your best friend Sunghoon. And that's why you became friends.

Sunghoon had come into your life at elementary school, arriving in the middle of the year and looking very shy. You remembered his arrival so well because he came to class on your so-called birthday, your 7th to be exact. On that day, your mother had baked your favorite cake, so you could share it with your classmates and blow out your candles, knowing that this day was so special to you.

When the cake arrived, you noticed the sparkle in the new kids's chocolate orbs. Curious to know if he shared your taste in pastries, you asked him if he was looking forward to tasting it. "Do you like strawberry shortcake cake too? They are my favorite!", the boy who seemed so silent didn't answer at the time and just looked at you. Surprised by his reaction, you tilted your head to one side and wondered why he didn't answer.

Ignoring the boy's attitude, you took his hand in yours and led him to the cake. “You can blow out my candles with me if you like!”, at the sound of such a friendly proposal, an expression you couldn't quite determine formed on Sunghoon's face, and his cheeks took on a crimson hue.

Not understanding his reaction once again, you thought he didn't want to. “Oh, you don't like birthdays?”. The young brunet lifted his head and shook it vigorously, at which point he answered in an almost inaudible voice, “No, no...I like birthdays. Today's my birthday too…”.

Hearing such a statement, you couldn't help but jump up and down with joy at the idea of sharing such a precious moment with your new friend. Sunghoon, on the other hand, couldn't help hiding his face, rather embarrassed by so much attention suddenly focused on him. Seeing him so shy and embarrassed, you took his hand so that he could be at your side. “Let's both make a wish and blow out our candles, okay?”. You offered him a smile that revealed the tooth you'd lost last week and closed your eyes before making your wish. While the boy's wish remained unknown, you wished that from now on you'd be able to spend every one of your birthdays by his side... a day so precious to you

From that moment on, you and Sunghoon became inseparable. Birthdays became a shared celebration, a tradition that solidified your bond year after year. But as you grew older, things began to change. The simplicity of childhood was replaced by the complexities of adolescence, and the once-easy friendship began to face challenges neither of you could have anticipated.

High school brought about a shift in your dynamic with Sunghoon. New friends, different interests, and the inevitable misunderstandings began to drive a wedge between you two. It was subtle at first, a missed text here, a skipped hangout there. But over time, the cracks widened until a full-blown argument erupted on the day of your joint 16th birthday.

It had been brewing for a while, the tension palpable. Sunghoon had become more withdrawn, focusing on his new friends, sports, and studies. The clash came over something trivial—an unfortunate event that happened during your birthday celebration.

At the long-awaited moment of blowing out your 16 candles, after wishing that things could work out between you and your best friend, Sunghoon had the wonderful idea of pushing your head into your birthday cake...in front of all the people who were invited. And what a shock it was to see one of his new friends named Jake laughing, holding up his phone to film the scene. “ Well done man! You nailed your bet, I didn't think you would!”.

After that, voices were raised, harsh words exchanged, and for the first time, you found yourself dreading your birthday. What a stupid birthday…

—

Years passed, and the distance between you and Sunghoon grew. From friends to enemies, it seemed. The shared birthday, once a symbol of your bond, now felt like a cruel reminder of what you had lost. Both of you were too stubborn to reach out, too hurt to mend the rift. So you ended your high school days this way.

College was supposed to be your fresh start, a new chapter free from the tangled mess of your high school drama. You had looked forward to it for years, dreaming of new experiences, new friendships, and the chance to redefine yourself away from the shadow of old wounds and betrayals.

The campus was everything you had hoped for—bustling with life, offering endless growth opportunities, and filled with the promise of adventure. But as fate would have it, the one person you wanted to leave behind, Sunghoon, was also here. Seeing him across the quad that first week sent a chill down your spine. Memories of your 16th birthday, the argument, and the subsequent Cold War came rushing back, tainting what should have been an exciting new beginning.

When your mutual friends first proposed the joint birthday party, you couldn't believe your ears. "It'll be just like old times," Sunoo said, completely unaware of the emotional landmine they had stepped on. Your heart sank. The idea of celebrating your birthday with Sunghoon felt like opening an old wound. The 16th birthday incident left a scar, a painful reminder of how someone you once trusted implicitly could hurt you so deeply.

Despite your protests, your friends were relentless. They saw the good memories, the fun, and the laughter from your shared celebrations. They remembered the duo that was inseparable and believed that one party could bridge the gap. To them, it seemed like a simple solution to rekindle a cherished tradition.

"Come on, it's just one night," Minji, your closest friend, pleaded. "You both deserve to have fun. It’ll be great, just like before."

You shook your head, frustration bubbling to the surface. "It's not that simple, Minji. There’s a lot you don’t understand."

Minji sighed, her expression softening. "I get that you two had a falling out, but it was so long ago. People change, y/n. Maybe Sunghoon isn’t the same person who did that...stupid thing."

"It's not just about the cake," you snapped, then took a deep breath to calm yourself. "It's everything that happened afterward. He just...he wasn't there for me. We were supposed to be best friends, and he let me down."

Jungwon, another friend who was also part of your mutual circle, chimed in. "Y/n, we're not asking you to be best friends again overnight. Just give it a chance.”

You looked at them, feeling the weight of their words but also the burden of your memories. "I don't know if I can handle it," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "What if things get worse?"

Minji put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We've all seen how happy you two were back then. We just want to see you both happy again, even if it's just for one night. Can you try, for us?"

You hesitated, the memories of the laughter and joy you once shared with Sunghoon conflicting with the bitterness of your last encounter. The sincerity in your friends' eyes made it hard to refuse outright.

"Okay," you finally said, the word feeling heavy on your tongue. "I'll do it. But if things go south, I’m leaving. I can’t relive that nightmare."

Sunoo's face lit up with relief. "Thank you, y/n. We promise it’ll be worth it."

Jungwon grinned, giving you a thumbs up. "You won't regret it. We'll make sure it's an awesome party."

—

The first meeting to discuss party details was an exercise in tension. Sunghoon, once your shy and endearing best friend, now exuded an air of arrogance that made your blood boil. He walked into your living room with a confident swagger, greeting everyone casually, as if the years of animosity between you two didn’t exist.

"So, what's the plan?" Sunghoon asked, locking eyes with you for a moment. His gaze was steady, but you could see a flicker of something—regret, nostalgia?—before it vanished.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. "We need to decide on the venue, decorations, food, and the guest list," you replied, your tone clipped.

"Great, I was thinking we should go big," Sunghoon said, leaning back in his chair. "A large venue, lots of music, and a huge guest list. It’s our 21st birthday after all."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Of course, you'd want that. I was thinking of something more intimate. Close friends, good food, a relaxed atmosphere."

Sunghoon smirked, his eyes challenging. "A small gathering? That’s boring, y/n. People want to have fun."

"Fun doesn't mean a circus," you shot back, your irritation evident.

Jake, sensing the rising tension, intervened. "Hey, why not meet in the middle? We can have a decent-sized venue but keep the guest list reasonable. And mix up the music so there’s something for everyone."

You and Sunghoon exchanged a reluctant glance, and to your surprise, he nodded. "Fine. That works for me."

You sighed, feeling a bit of the tension ease. "Okay. But I’m in charge of the decorations."

Sunghoon chuckled. "Deal. As long as I get to handle the music."

The rest of the meeting was a series of compromises. Despite the occasional bickering, you managed to make some progress. However, the tension from years of unresolved issues loomed over every decision, making even the simplest tasks feel burdensome.

—

One afternoon, after another heated argument over the party's theme, you found yourself alone in the library, trying to finalize the details. Memories of happier times with Sunghoon flooded your mind—his shy smile, the way he used to get excited about your shared birthdays, and the countless hours spent talking about everything and nothing.

You were lost in thought when Sunghoon walked in and sat across from you. "Look, I know we have our differences, but we need to make this work. For our friends," he said, his voice surprisingly sincere.

You sighed, nodding. "Yeah, you're right. Let’s just focus on making this a good party."

Sunghoon looked relieved, and for a moment, you saw a glimmer of the boy you once knew. "I remember how much you loved those fairy lights. Maybe we can use them for the decorations?"

You were taken aback by his suggestion. "You remember that?"

"Of course I do," he replied softly. "Those birthdays meant a lot to me too."

In the days that followed, you fell into an uneasy rhythm. Despite the bickering, there were moments when the old Sunghoon resurfaced. One morning, he brought you your favorite coffee, remembering your order perfectly.

"Here," he said, handing you the cup. "I figured you could use a break."

You took it, surprised. "Thanks."

Another time, he helped you with particularly tricky decorations. As you struggled with a set of lights, he appeared beside you, effortlessly untangling them.

"Let me help," he said, his voice gentle. "You always hated doing this alone."

These small gestures made you wonder if there was still something worth salvaging between you two. Could it be that beneath the layers of hurt and pride, the bond you once shared was still there, waiting to be rekindled?

—

Just as you began to hope for reconciliation, everything came crashing down. Walking past the student lounge one afternoon, you overheard Sunghoon talking to Jake. Their voices were casual, filled with the easy camaraderie of old friends, but what you heard made your blood run cold.

"Yeah, she's still unbearable," Sunghoon was saying. "I don't regret pushing her head into the cake at all. Honestly, I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

The words felt like a dagger to your heart. Any progress you thought you’d made, any hope for a rekindled friendship, shattered in an instant. You turned and walked away, not wanting to hear another word. The small gestures, the moments where you thought the old Sunghoon was resurfacing, all felt like lies. The betrayal was raw and overwhelming, stirring up all the old hurt and anger you had tried so hard to move past.

That evening, you decided to confront Sunghoon. The emotions you had kept bottled up were boiling over, and you needed to let them out.

“Sunghoon, I overheard what you said to Jake,” you began, your voice trembling with suppressed anger.

Sunghoon looked up, confusion and worry flashing across his face. “Y/n, what are you talking about?”

“You said I’m unbearable and that you’d push my head into a cake again,” you replied, each word laced with the pain of your resurfaced wounds. “I thought we could maybe get past what happened, but clearly, you haven’t changed at all.”

Sunghoon’s face fell, and for a moment, he looked like the boy you once knew, the boy who had been your best friend. “It’s not like that,” he started, his voice soft and pleading.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you snapped, cutting him off. The anger in your voice masked the hurt you felt. “We’ll go through with this party for our friends, but after that, I don’t want anything to do with you.”

Sunghoon’s shoulders slumped, and he took a step towards you, desperation in his eyes. “Y/n, please. Let me explain. It was a stupid joke. I didn’t mean it.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “A joke? You think that’s funny? Humiliating me, and then saying you’d do it again? That’s not a joke, Sunghoon. That’s just cruel.”

“I was trying to fit in with the guys,” Sunghoon said, his voice breaking. “I didn’t mean any of it. I’ve been an idiot, but I don’t want to lose you again.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache, but the pain of his words was still too fresh. “You already lost me, Sunghoon,” you whispered. “A long time ago. And this just proves that you don’t care.”

Sunghoon reached out, but you stepped back, putting distance between you. “Y/n, please, don’t do this. We’ve come so far.”

You shook your head, feeling a mix of sadness and anger. “No, Sunghoon. You might think we’ve come far, but we’re right back where we started. I can’t keep doing this.”

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Sunghoon standing there, looking lost and broken. The weight of your decision settled heavily on your shoulders, but you knew it was the right choice. You couldn’t keep reopening old wounds, hoping they’d heal. You needed to move forward, even if it meant leaving Sunghoon behind.

—

The rest of the preparations were a blur. You avoided Sunghoon as much as possible, communicating only when absolutely necessary. Every interaction was charged with tension, a constant reminder of the unresolved issues and the hurt still lingering between you. The memories of the overheard conversation haunted you, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

Despite the strained atmosphere, you channeled all your energy into making sure the party went off without a hitch. Your friends noticed the strain but chose to focus on the upcoming celebration, hoping the event would mend the rift.

The party was in full swing. Music blared, lights flashed, and people danced and laughed. You kept your distance from Sunghoon, mingling with friends and trying to enjoy yourself despite the heavy weight on your heart. The venue was beautifully decorated, with fairy lights casting a warm glow over the scene. Everyone seemed to be having a great time, but you couldn’t shake the hurt and betrayal lingering in your mind.

Minji caught you alone near the drinks table and pulled you aside. “Hey, how are you holding up?”

You forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just trying to get through the night.”

She gave you a sympathetic look. “I know things have been tough, but maybe tonight can be a fresh start?”

You sighed, looking over at Sunghoon who was laughing with some friends. “I don’t know, Minji. It’s hard to forget everything that happened.”

“I get it,” she said softly. “But I’ve seen how he looks at you. I think he genuinely wants to make things right.”

Before you could respond, someone called Minji away, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

As the night wore on, you found yourself on the balcony, staring out at the city lights. The cool night air did little to soothe your turmoil.

You heard footsteps behind you and turned to see Sunghoon approaching. He looked hesitant, his usual confidence replaced by a tentative vulnerability.

“Y/n..” he started, his voice soft. “Can we talk?”

You crossed your arms, trying to protect yourself from more hurt. “What is there to talk about, Sunghoon?”

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been a jerk, and I know I hurt you. But you have to understand, Jake and I… we have a complicated relationship. I was just trying to impress him, but it was stupid, and I regret it.”

“Why should I believe you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sunghoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because,” he said, stepping closer, “I miss you. I miss us. And I know I’ve screwed up, but I want to make it right. Not just for tonight, but for good.”

You looked at him, searching his eyes for any hint of deceit. “You think just saying sorry will fix everything? You humiliated me, Sunghoon. You made me feel like I meant nothing to you.”

“I know,” he admitted, his eyes downcast. “I’ve been an idiot. I let Jake’s influence get to me, and I hurt the one person who mattered most. But I swear, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”

“Why now?” you demanded, your voice rising. “Why should I trust you now?”

“Because I’ve realized how much I’ve lost,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “And because I don’t want to lose you again. Not when we’ve been through so much. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking for a chance to prove I’ve changed.”

Something in his voice, in his eyes, made you want to believe him. The sincerity, the vulnerability—it all felt genuine. And maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to forgive and start anew.

“Okay,” you said softly. “But this time, no more cake pushing.”

Sunghoon laughed, a genuine, warm laugh that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, things could be okay again. “Deal,” he said, offering his hand. “Let’s make a new wish together.”

As you shook his hand, you felt a spark of hope. You both walked back into the party, side by side, and your friends immediately noticed the change. Minji gave you an encouraging smile, and Jake looked pleasantly surprised. Their eyes seemed to convey a silent message of hope and reconciliation, urging you both to embrace this newfound chance at rebuilding your friendship.

Sunghoon led you to the table where the birthday cake sat, a beautifully decorated strawberry shortcake, just like the one from your childhood. The room quieted down as everyone gathered around, sensing the importance of the moment. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, a tangible sense of possibility lingering in the air.

Sunghoon turned to you, his eyes soft with sincerity. “Ready to make a wish?”

You nodded, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement coursing through you. “Ready.”

Together, you both closed your eyes, allowing the weight of the past to momentarily fade into the background. At this moment, there was only the promise of a fresh start, a chance to mend what had been broken between you.

“On three?” Sunghoon asked, his voice a gentle reassurance.

You nodded again, a small smile playing on your lips. “One, two, three.”

You both blew out the candles in unison, the room erupting in cheers and applause. For the first time in years, you felt that familiar warmth of the bond you once shared, slowly but surely being rekindled. The collective joy of the moment washed over you, melting away the layers of resentment and hurt that had accumulated over time.

—

The night continued with laughter and joy, the tension of the past giving way to the lightness of the present. You found yourself by Sunghoon's side more often than not, the ease of your interactions reminiscent of the friendship you had once cherished.

As the hours passed, you found yourself engaged in heartfelt conversations, sharing memories and dreams with Sunghoon as if no time had passed at all. The barriers that had once divided you seemed to dissolve in the warmth of companionship, leaving behind a renewed sense of connection and understanding.

At one point, amidst the laughter and chatter, Sunghoon leaned in close to you, his voice a whisper in the bustling room. “I’m glad we had this chance, Y/N. I’ve missed you.”

You met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes echoing the sentiment in your own heart. “I’ve missed you too, Sunghoon. Let’s not lose this again.”

He smiled, a genuine expression of warmth and affection. “We won’t.”

At that moment, surrounded by the people you cared about most, you knew that this was more than just a party—it was a celebration of forgiveness, of second chances, and of the enduring bond between friends. As you looked around at the smiling faces and heard the echoes of laughter filling the air, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the opportunity to rebuild what had once been lost.

And as the night drew to a close, and the last echoes of laughter faded into the night, you found yourselves standing alone in the quiet embrace of the moonlit balcony. The world seemed to hold its breath, anticipation hanging heavy in the air as you gazed into each other's eyes.

Without a word, Sunghoon reached out, his hand cupping your cheek with a tenderness that stole your breath away. And in that fleeting moment, with the stars as witness to your reunion, you leaned in, your lips meeting in a gentle kiss that spoke volumes of the love and forgiveness that had brought you back together.

Now, every day with Sunghoon, whether it’s 365 or 366, will be a reminder of the bond you share—a bond strong enough to weather any storm. As you melted into the warmth of his embrace, you couldn't help but reflect on the journey that had led you here, from the pain of this stupid birthday to the sweetness of this moment, where love and forgiveness triumphed over past hurts.

#sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #sunghoon imagines #fic tag #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfiction #park sunghoon #enhypen angst #sunghoon angst

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supernovafics · 1 year ago

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your first shift at scoops ahoy with steve harrington

wc: 1.1k words

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you didn’t know if you’d ever get used to the uniform. the blue and white sailor outfit made you feel like you were seven years old and being forced to be a part of a nautical family photoshoot.

“you’re new, right?”

you stopped adjusting your hat— the final part of the uniform that only made you feel even more ridiculous— and looked at the guy that had just walked into the break room.

“hi, yeah,” you said with a small smile. “you’re steve?”

when he nodded and said a quick “yeah,” you nodded back and then told him your name.

you had expected to work your first real shift with robin. she had been the one training you for the past few days and although she had mentioned that there was another person that worked here, you never saw him so you started wondering if you ever would.

steve simply looked at you for a bit, which reminded you of what you were wearing and you quickly felt ridiculous all over again. your hands went back up to your hat, which had a way too enthusiastic looking “ahoy” written across it, and started adjusting it. “will this uniform ever eventually not feel stupid to wear?”

steve was quick to shake his head. “no, but i’ve ditched the hat and it makes it feel a little less stupid.”

you immediately took yours off your head and left it on the table. “say no more.”

it was slow in the morning, which made sense because who really wanted to have ice cream for breakfast? therefore, to help pass the time you suggested that you two play rock, paper, scissors. and when you both got bored of that, steve grabbed a napkin and a pen from behind the counter and the two of you started playing tic-tac-toe, and then moved onto hangman. the childish games you two played were just that, childish and a bit mindless, but they helped make the first handful of hours of the shift go by fast.

it was when noon rolled around that things finally started to pick up and it almost became too much— the line full of overzealous kids that already seemed as if they had too much ice cream and the handful of people that you recognized from school; and of course, they were the people that you really didn’t want to see.

you quickly found yourself starting to long for the quiet mundanity that the morning part of the shift brought.

“you wanna take your break?” steve asked. you had just finished dealing with a middle aged man who sampled pretty much every flavor of ice cream you had and then proceeded to buy nothing. perhaps the most annoying ten minutes of your life.

“yes. please. thank you. you’re the best,” your words came out rushed as you quickly started making your way toward the small break room.

it was nice to have somewhat of a breather for a bit. you hummed along to a random song that was playing on repeat in your head as you ate the sandwich that you brought from home because you refused to spend money in the food court— money you didn’t have, hence why you got a job in the first place.

“you’re lucky,” steve said when you came back thirty minutes later, once again standing behind the counter with him. “you just missed the horde of moms that just finished their aerobics class and wanted to “treat themselves.””

you were grateful that you missed that rush.

“if you want, you can go on your break now. i’ll handle the next swarm of kids or moms that show up,” you told him and he nodded at that before heading to the break room.

things actually didn’t become too insane when steve left.

a group of kids walked up, but before you could ask them what they would like to get, one that had a “camp know where” hat on said, “hi, we’re friends of steve’s. is he here?”

it slightly confused you that steve would be friends with a group of kids who didn’t look like they were even in high school yet. but ultimately, you didn’t question it and instead shook your head at the kid’s question. “he’s on break right now, but he should be out in a few minutes.”

“how many girls has he flirted with today?” the red-headed girl asked you.

a confused look crossed your face. “um, none… is that something that usually happens?”

she laughed a bit at your question. “uh, literally always.”

“oh, shit, he must like you,” the boy, who had been previously holding hands with the red-headed girl, told you.

it was way too hard to hold back your laugh at that. “i just met him today.”

the boy with the camp hat was the one to speak. “oh, trust us, that’s more than enough time for steve.”

before you could say anything in response to that, steve emerged from the break room. he talked to the kids for a bit before letting them go through the back so that they could sneak into a movie.

“what embarrassing things about me did they say to you?” he asked when he returned next to you.

you held back your laugh as you answered him. “according to them, you like me.”

his eyes widened a bit and the redness that rose to his cheeks was almost immediate; just for a moment you thought that maybe there was actually some truth behind the kids’ words.

he then let out a loud sigh. “i’m never letting them come here again.”

the next few hours actually breezed by, with random rushes here and there but nothing too overwhelming, and before you knew it your first official day at scoops ahoy was done.

you and steve cleaned up everything— wiping down tables, refilling napkin dispensers, etc.— and then started heading to the parking lot. somehow the emptiness of the mall felt weirdly calming.

“where are you parked?” you asked when the two of you exited the mall, immediately getting hit by the cool summer air.

steve gestured to the left side of the parking lot. “over there.”

“i’m this way,” you said, pointing in the opposite direction.

“oh, okay,” he said with a small nod. he then leaned in for what you thought would be a hug, but then he seemed to change his mind last second and instead held out his hand for you to shake, which you did after a brief second of hesitation and confusion. the entire chain of events felt insanely awkward, but you also couldn’t help but find it all a little funny.

“so, um, i’ll… see you later,” steve said, his voice was softer and it sounded a little unsure.

you smiled at him and his sudden nervousness right then. “yeah, see you later, steve.”

#summer's over but i needed to do this<3 #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction

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sunburnhurts · 6 months ago

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The Promise || Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader (Battinson)

Summary: Y/n and Bruce were old friends in grade school that lost connection after Bruce's parents died. Y/n is now an actor, she is now in her first big movie with big actors. With some hope of him showing up, Y/n sends Bruce an invitation, not thinking he would actually show up.

Words: 1,073

All My Stories

Sitting in front of her vanity, Y/n starts applying make up to her face, getting ready for the red carpet premiere for her new movie. She got lost in thought as she swiped make up brushes across her face, nervous for how the movie turned out. She knew she wasn't a bad actor, but this being her first big lead role, it worried her having the most screen time.

Taking a deep breath in hopes to calm herself, she then thinks about Bruce Wayne. She embarrassingly remembered how she invited him to come to the premiere and heard no answer back. They haven't had contact since grade school, and haven't seen each other since high school. She then reminds herself of why she did it, the promise.

Since the very first day of kindergarten to the start of 3rd grade, Y/n and Bruce were irresistible. They were always seen together, Y/n was like Mr. and Mrs. Wayne's second child. Right before Bruce's parents died, they had their last normal hang out at the park. Being 3rd graders, they were swinging on the swings, the fall breeze picking up and the sun's golden hue poking through the trees.

Y/n and Bruce sat their talking about random things, somehow ending up on a topic of what they wanted to be when they get older. Swinging her legs slowly, barely moving the swing, Y/n exclaimed, "I'm going to be an actress!"

"Really?" Bruce asked, looking over at his friend. He was swinging high off the ground, higher than Y/n was.

"Yeah, and I'm going to go to Hollywood, and walk down the red carpet!" Y/n's young self says, getting excited by the thought.

"Promise you'll bring me with when you're famous?" Bruce asked, slowing down his swinging.

Y/n looked over at him with a big grin, "Of course!" She held out her pinky, waiting for him to complete the pinky promise. "Promise you'll come with?"

"Of course!" Young Bruce exclaimed, interlocking his pinky finger with hers, completing the pinky promise.

After this hang out, Mr. and Mrs. Wayne were killed, creating their friendship to become rocky. Y/n grieved for them as well, again, they were like her second parents. The hang outs after their death became less frequent and more different. Their last hang out was the end of primary school, they split their ways in middle school. Y/n never wanted this, she always wanted her best friend with her through every year of school. Bruce was completely different.

By the time it was high school, Y/n always saw Bruce walking in the halls with his head down and headphones on. They had a few classes together, but Bruce never approached her, neither did she approach him. After high school, she only rarely saw him on the news since he was like a celebrity.

Now, here she was, in New York, sitting in front of her vanity mirror, still thinking about him. She felt this connection with him, even if they haven't talked for almost 20 years.

She finished up her make up, cleaning off any mascara she got on her eyelids. Then, she got up and turned her head to her full length mirror, making sure her outfit looked good. Once she was ready, she headed outside to be picked up by a limo. The whole ride their, hope of Bruce showing up rested in the back of her mind.

She exited the limo, plastering a smile on her face as she heard her named being screamed by fans and photographers. She glanced at around the red carpet looking for any sign of Bruce Wayne. She slightly shook her head and closed her eyes, calming herself and walking over to the fans.

After taking pictures, signing different objects, and having brief conversations with fans, Y/n made her way over to an interviewer who was calling her over. She smiled at the man and the camera.

"Hello, Y/n Y/l/n!" The man smiled, "You look beautiful tonight!"

"Thank you so much!" Y/n replied.

"Of course, mind if we asked you a few questions?" Y/n nods her head, waiting for the questions. The interviewer asked a few questions, Y/n answered as best as she could without spoiling the movie. Then the interviewer asked his last question, "And one more question, how exciting is it for one of your first movies to be as big as it is?"

"Oh my gosh, it's seriously mind blowing. I actually feel like I'm in a dream." Y/n answers with a kind, enthusiastic voice and a smile still on her face.

Y/n suddenly turned her head at a name being called. "Bruce Wayne! Bruce Wayne here!" The crowd called, cameras flashing. Y/n looked at a man who just exited the car, his hair dark and long. Her mouth parted slightly, her breath hitched in shock. He was really here, in New York, for her.

The interviewer heard Bruce Wayne's name being called, his attention turn to the commotion. "Bruce Wayne? Why is he here?" He asked.

"I invited him." The words came out of her mouth, almost in a whisper as she watched him with slightly wide eyes. Bruce slightly turned his head down, away from the crowd of fans. "I'm sorry, I have to go. It was really nice meeting you." Y/n turned to the interviewer and placed a hand on his arm that was holding the microphone, then she smiled and quickly walked away.

With his head still down, his eyes looked up, looking for any sign of Y/n. Once his eyes caught a girl with a huge grin on her face walking towards him, the corner of his mouth lifted. He turned his head to the girl, walking towards her as well. Once they got to each other, Y/n couldn't help but give him a hug, he hugged back.

"You came." Y/n said, still in shock. She smiled as he held her in his arms.

"You invited me." He replied, smiling a bit more. Once they broke apart, they faced each other, holding each others arms. In a blink, he looked her up and down. "You look.. really good."

Somehow her smile became even bigger, lightly blushing. "Thank you. You look really good too, Bruce." He grinned, his eyes stuck to her.

"Thank you." He replied.

The End

A/n: Thank you guys so much on all the support!! I love when people leave comments and reblog my stories!! I appreciate it so much!!

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jxckchxmpi0n · 1 year ago

Note

Jack champion x fem reader and he plays spiderman and reader is mj?

I'm going to make this into some headcanons

hope you enjoy <3

Being Ethan's mj headcanons

did not proofread |m.list

update : I just now realized that after posting this what you were asking I will 10000% rewrite this as its supposed to be!! I'm so sorry I hope this is okay for the time being! idk why it took so long for my brain to realize what you were actually asking for :(((((

Happy New Year babes!!!! I hope you all had a great new year's and were safe! I'm so excited for this new year and to grow my account. I am going back to school next week, so the requests are going to come out slowly, but I am writing them. I will try to post once or twice a week but I no promises <;3 I love you all so much and thank you so much for your support it really means so much to me.

You didn't know who Ethan was before your junior year in high school. both of you got paired up for a science project and ended up hitting it off and became close friends.

Chad would try to get Ethan to ask you out, he would be sad for weeks after you both finished the project, unable to see each other after classes had changed.

After a fight with some jock, you saw him hanging outside trying to clean up the cuts on his face, you would end up helping him and get to talking.

"Listen Ethan I actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out sometime." he would just stare at you in disbelieve, he'd be smiling so much the cut on his cheekbone started to bleed again.

From there on it was official you were in a relationship with him, he would always meet you up after school take the long way home just so he could be with you longer.

After a few months there was a change in how he was acting, you also noticed something different about him but couldn't put your hand on it.

This weekend it was longer due to some holiday and you, and Ethan had planned to spend the entire weekend together watching Star Wars and building Legos, but Ethan's mind had been so wrapped up in his new actives that he forgot.

Crawling through his window he heard his aunt talking, but he also heard another voice, and it was yours. His heart beating faster, just hearing your voice has that effect on him.

But thinking about your voice distracted him from realizing you were walking to his room, once he saw the door handle move panic set in.

Quickly he fell from the ceiling and grabbed a blanket but tripped himself in the process. "Ethan? when did you get home?" and before you both knew it you were holding the blanket while he shot up holding a hand to your month to stop you from yelling.

"Please, don't say anything! My aunt doesn't know yet you can't tell anyone!" his voice was harsh yet soft and scared. He was scared with how you were going to act.

"You're fucking spiderman! Holy shit! Holy Shit" you dropped the blanket and jumped into his arms. he stood there for a second confused, he eventually gave in wrapping his arms around you. feeling the warmth of your body against his. He felt safe with you.

"You have to tell me everything! and oh my god I have so many questions! but also you idiot!" you slapped him aside the head laughing but also giggling at the fact that your boyfriend is spiderman.

From there on you would help him fix his suit if he ever needed it or cover for him if a lie came back to haunt him.

Some nights he'd come to your window sharing all the details about some sandwich robbery he stopped.

There would be times where it's hard to be with Ethan, you sometimes thought he loved being spiderman than being with you. His actions spoke more than words could at times.

Bailing on date nights, sometimes right in the middle of your date. You love him and love seeing how much joy he gets out of helping others, but it also takes a toll on your relationship.

After an argument about how you felt he bailed out on you not wanting to say something he'd regret.

Things just got harder from there, you both agreed that you'd be better off apart, but you both lied to yourself.

Ethan thought it was better only to keep you safe from the criminals, and you thought it was all stupid. Knowing spiderman is who he is but he's also Ethan Landry the love of your life.

Soon things would take a turn for the worst as one of his enemies found out your importance to spiderman. Kidnapping you and using you as a pawn to trap him.

Ethan's heart would break seeing you in so much pain, even after trying to leave you to keep you save it did nothing. there you sat in front of him after he fought the villain. He didn't know what to do.

Both of you scrapped and bloodily up all you want to do is be in his arms. And just like before he stood shocked for a moment feeling your body against his.

It felt so right, wrapping his arms around your body he held you tight, tighter than he ever has. "I'm so sorry y/n please I'm so sorry i love you" he tucked his head into your neck, the faint smell of your perfume filled his nose.

"Don't ever leave me ever again! I'm being serious" you hugged him as tight as he did to you. "And I love you too."

#jack champion #ethan landry #scream vi #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #jack champion imagine #jack champion x reader #spider avatar #ethan landry smut #ghost face x reader #spiderman ethan landry #ethan landry x you #jack champion is all i think about #jack champion fluff #jack champion fanfic #avatar spider #avatar way of water #avatar

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malarign · 2 years ago

Text

told you so

(when you go on a date with your enemy, and he advises you against it)

synopsis: Being a target of taunting from your enemy was your daily struggle, and when you seemed to get used to it, all of your worries disappeared when you met your new friend. but what if old feelings still didn’t pass?

contains: bff!Heeseung x fem!reader | genre: angst with a fluffy ending (requested), high school au, college au, friends to lovers | tw! mentions of food, bullying, swearing, arguing, crying, kissing and touching without consent, mentions and attempt of assault, please read at your own discretion! y/n being oblivious and delusional, basically he fell first and harder 🤩 | wc: 7,4k

author’s note: while writing this i didn’t have any specific Jisung in mind, this name just popped into my head 😬 also this was originally written to be a mini series but it didn't get much attention so i’m reposting it as a one shot :)) enjoy!

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated!!!

original taglist: @nicholasluvbot, @simpforsunwoo, @sweetjaemss

Morning, Wednesday, 9th January 2019

You watched as Jisung and his friends emptied your school bag and all your books, notebooks, documents and other personal stuff fall on the wooden floor. All of them laughed while exchanging mean looks. Jisung came up to you, lowered his head to the level of your eyes, and smiled viciously.

“You better hurry, Y/n. I don’t think you want to be late for math class, right?” he asked sarcastically and ruffled your hair.

Trying to keep calm you watched as he wandered off to the class with the rest of the boys he hangs out with. You looked at all the things he threw on the floor and sighed. He never seemed to let you breathe peacefully and lavished you with his nasty comments. Both of you used to be great friends back in middle school, but then he got into a pretty bad environment and became your worst nightmare. Every class you had with him was hours of suffering. You often thought about old times, wondering if there was a way to prevent this.

Crouching down to pick your stuff up you heard how the sound of steps behind you echoed in an empty hallway. You turned your head around to see who was coming. You tried really hard to recognize his face, but you didn’t think you had ever seen him.

“Hi,” he said. His lips slightly parted as he watched your belongings on the floor. “Let me help you.”

He crouched next to you and helped you gather your books and notebooks as you collected smaller items. He neatly put them into your bag and helped you stand up from a not-really-comfortable position.

“Thank you, I really appreciate your help.” You smiled and once more scanned his face to be sure you’d ever seen him.

“I’m Heeseung by the way. I’m new here,” he spoke as he offered his hand to greet you.

“Oh, I was wondering why I couldn’t recognize you.” You smiled sheepishly. “My name’s Y/n.”

Noon, Friday, 17th May 2019

You and Heeseung clicked almost immediately. Both of you had similar hobbies and musical tastes. Since your favorite subjects were his problem and vice versa you helped each other with homework and exam preparations, usually in the calm setting of your local library. He didn’t have problems settling into a new environment. Quite quickly he made a group of friends, bugging you to tag along every time they went out somewhere. His talent for basketball also didn’t slip by the team's coach, who didn’t waste time to make him join training.

Heeseung never failed to bring a smile to your face with his quick-witted jokes and interesting stories about his life before he moved to your city. Being with him healed you in every possible way, making thoughts of Jisung almost completely forgotten. After seeing you spend your breaks with Heeseung made him stop approaching you for some reason. Sometimes when you were alone, because he had to get something done or had different classes made you anxious. You knew that whenever he was next to you, Jisung wouldn’t do anything bad.

The bell rang announcing a long-awaited lunch break. You packed your stuff and looked at Heeseung. You opened your mouth to ask the usual question about your table, but he spoke faster.

“Coach said he needs me for a second, I’m pretty sure it won’t take long. I’ll join you as soon as I’m done, okay?” He didn’t let you say anything and just dashed away after gently patting your shoulder.

You stood there watching as he disappeared behind a corner and let out a shaky sigh. That was the first time you were going to eat lunch alone ever since you met him in March. You even considered waiting for him, just to not have to sit there alone. Then a sudden wave of confidence rushed through your body, thinking “What can go wrong? He said it’s not gonna take long.”

You made your way to the school cafeteria, looking at every student that passed by, praying none of them would belong to Jisung.

After you took your tray with a full meal you sat down at your usual table and watched the entry, nervously waiting for a familiar, friendly silhouette. What you saw was far away from that. You saw Jisung and his friend enter the cafeteria. He noticed you right away. His face showed anger, eyes sharp and fierce. His look made you quiver slightly, unable to look anywhere else. He took his tray and sat at the table behind you. You could hear every bite he took on his apple, loud cracks piercing your ears. You started to count second, wishing Heeseung would come back quickly.

Time passed and you still were sitting alone at the table. Some students finished eating while your tray was still full of food. As much as you tried eating you couldn’t muster up the energy to raise a fork to your mouth.

“Where the hell is he? What is taking him so long? He said he’ll join me.” Your thoughts were disrupted by a fine figure of a man hovering over your form. He leaned into you, his breath brushing your ear.

“Long time no see, Y/n.” His malicious tone sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel tears ready to spill out of fear. “You thought I was done with you just because you started hanging out with that asshole?” He said as he brushed away the strand of your hair. He leaned even closer to you and whispered straight to your ear: “You know I will never back off.”

“Well, maybe you should.”

You noticed Heeseung standing in front of your table.

Jisung came up to Heeseung and asked: “Or what, asshole? What you’re gonna do?” He suddenly collared him and shook his form. His actions were stopped when a loud voice echoed in the cafeteria.

“Choi Jisung!” Heeseung’s coach screamed, his voice in a humbling manner. Jisung let go of Heeseung still maintaining eye contact with him.

“I guess I don’t have to do anything in particular.” Heeseung smiled at him snidely and watched as he made his way out of the cafeteria. He then shifted his look at you who was still slightly trembling at an unexpected and not really pleasant encounter with one of your classmates.

His eyes softened looking at your form, his heart breaking from the regret of not coming to you sooner. He hesitated whether what he should do and finally rubbed your back with his palm in a comforting move. He felt as if you loosened up under his touch. Seeing you calm down he sat down next to you and tried to shift your attention from a bad experience with Jisung.

“You should eat, Y/n. I’m sure it’ll help.” He took a glance at your tray. “I know how you love that pudding,” he spoke and placed the box right in front of you making you smile.

Afternoon, Friday, 17th May 2019

“Y/n can we talk about today?” Heeseung asked. You were laying in his bed, surrounded by notes from your biology class.

You looked at him. His eyes were serious but soft at the same time. You felt bad that you didn’t tell him about your bumpy relationship with Jisung, mostly because you thought the problem solved itself when you met him. But today’s events successfully proved you wrong.

“About what?” You played for time.

“About Jisung and what happened in the cafeteria.” He got straight to the point. He moved his chair to be right in front of you. “Why didn’t you tell me he bullies you?”

“Because he doesn’t,” you simply stated shifting your gaze back to your notes. Somehow word ‘bully’ made your ego ache. You weren’t bullied, at least that’s what you said to yourself.

“Well his action said something else,” he firmly said making you snap.

“What do you know, Heeseung? You don’t know him at all, yet you’re accusing him of bullying.”

Your response took him aback. “Y/n you were literally trembling at his touch and the sound of his voice. Fuck it, you were almost crying!”

“No, I wasn’t!”

“Y/n don’t act like I’m blind. Besides, I know you well.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” you said and rapidly got up, gathering your notes into your bag and storming out of his room. Heeseung watched your irrational actions in utter shock. Why were you so offended? Even you didn’t know why you overreacted like that. Maybe it was because of your past friendship with Jisung? Maybe you still believed he would change for the better, and you would happily be friends like you used to be? Or maybe you would be more than friends like you always dreamt?

You walked downstairs and hurriedly started to put on your shoes. Just when you were about to go out you heard your friend’s mom.

“Y/n? You’re leaving so early?” She asked. “I’m preparing your favorite, kimchi fried rice.” She smiled warmly.

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Lee, but I need to go early today.” You felt bad lying to her, she always treated you like a daughter making sure you were never hungry whenever you hung with Heeseung. “Have a great evening!” You quickly said closing the front door behind you.

Even though it was the middle of May, the weather was rather chilly. You still had your school uniform on, your short skirt not warming you up enough.

“Y/n!” You heard Heeseung’s voice behind you. Hesitating if you should stop or run straight to your house you finally stopped your tracks. Even if you ran he would easily catch up.

You turned around and soon, Heeseung stopped in front of you, breathing heavily from his jog. You let him catch a breath and didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you mad.”

You thought for a while, you really wanted to stay mad at him for a while, but as hard as you tried, you just couldn’t. You lowered your gaze and replied: “It’s okay. I know you meant well. But you don’t need to worry about me.” You assured.

Your answer didn’t seem to satisfy him, but he remained silent. He opened his arms, offering a conciliatory hug, which you gladly accepted.

“I should go home now,” you announced, still in his embrace.

“Can I walk you home?” he asked, knowing your answer.

“I think I would rather go by myself today. Thanks though.” You slowly pulled out from his arms and waved your hand in goodbye.

Heeseung watched you walk for a while. He couldn’t stop thinking about everything you said. Your words clenched his heart, almost making him tear up. He knew one thing: he definitely will worry about you, and won’t let this happen ever again.

Evening, Saturday, 1st June 2019

“Y/n! Heeseung is already here!” Your mom shouted from downstairs as you did the final touches to your hairstyle.

“I’m coming!” you shouted and hurriedly took your purse. Skipping your way to the hallway you saw Heeseung with a small bouquet in his hands as he talked with your mom with a warm smile. She noticed your presence first.

“Y/n come here quickly.” She gestured for you to stand next to Heeseung. “Let’s take a photo. Make a pose.”

Both of you tried different poses for the photo, from the normal ones to your usual, funny ones. After a short photo shoot, you made your way to Heeseung’s car and drove to have fun at prom.

You arrived at school quite late, as other students were already dancing in the hall. You were about to get out of his car when he stopped you with a soft hand motion. You were slightly confused but all the concern disappeared when you saw his jog around the car to your side. He opened the door gallantly and offered his hand.

“Wow, so chivalry is really not dead, huh?” you remarked and smiled at him while getting out.

“Y/n, I’m afraid you forgot who I am.” He placed his hand on his heart with an injured look on his face.

“Lee Heeseung, I envy your future girlfriend, whoever she is,” you said and made your way toward the other students.

Heeseung watched as you go with dreamy eyes and a moony smile. He couldn’t stop thinking about how gorgeous you looked tonight ever since he laid his eyes on you at your house. And not only today, the day he met you he never thought you’ll get so close and make him fall not only for your looks but charming personality, versatile knowledge, and full of empathy heart. “Hopefully you won’t have to envy her,” he thought to himself planning on confessing his feelings for you today.

When you entered the hall, your ears were pierced by loud music and the stumping of hundreds of feet. Parties like those weren’t your cup of tea, but it being prom convinced you to try having fun along with your classmates. Besides, being aware that you’re not going to be there by yourself helped you harness your train of thought. It wasn’t the first party you attended with Heeseung, but it was definitely the biggest of them all, and most importantly it wasn’t just a house party.

“Shall we?” You heard your friend’s voice and smiled. You danced all night next to each other, jumping and showing off your moves with occasional breaks to drink something or just take a breath.

Both of you sat down on a bench and watched as your classmates were also getting pretty tired. You looked at the clock which showed 10 pm. Four hours of dancing with Heeseung passed in a blink of an eye. You were about to ask him when they plan on leaving when the DJ announced a slow song. Just when you were about to stand up and freshen up in the bathroom none other than Heeseung showed in front of you, his figure towering over yours.

“May I have this dance?” He smiled but his tone wasn’t playful, but serious. Almost too serious.

You simply nodded your head in response and let him guide you to the middle of the dance floor. He took one of your hands into his and placed the other one on your waist, pulling you a little bit closer to him, to the point you felt how his breath fell on your nose. You never were in that close proximity to him, apart from that one hug after your quarrel, but none of you felt awkward at all. The feeling of his hands on your body made you feel safe and at ease, contrary to what you experienced throughout the past few years of high school.

Heeseung looked at you with full adoration in his eyes as you struggled to dance with him, occasionally stepping on his foot.

“Sorry, I had never danced like this,” you confessed sheepishly.

“Don’t worry. Just follow my lead, Y/n,” he murmured in a low voice, sending shivers down your spine. You did as he said, focusing on making the correct steps. Heeseung pulled you even closer, making you both sway in an intimate hug. Hug too intimate for friends. You noticed how his face slowly came closer to yours, and when your foreheads almost touched suddenly both of you landed on a cold, wooden floor. You took a look around and noticed how the other pair fell on the ground, the boy frantically apologizing to you and Heeseung for pushing you. You saw how his jaw clenched and eyes sharpened.

“Well, you should be more careful,” he snapped.

“Heeseung, it’s okay.” Your voice made his face soften and shift his now calm gaze to you. He helped you get up and fix hair that loosened because of the impact. While he was busy fixing your hairclips you noticed a pair of eyes watching you like a hawk. His gaze wasn’t sharp and aggressive like in the cafeteria two weeks ago. It was rather interested and invested. He watched you calmly but your heart started its usual race at the sight of his eyes on your form.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung asked worriedly, noticing your distant gaze.

“Yes,” you answered shortly and quickly. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Do you want to dance some more or sit down? It must’ve hurt,” he spoke, referring to your fall.

“Actually, can you drive me home?” you asked hurriedly. You didn’t want the situation in the cafeteria to happen again. And knowing Heeseung you knew it was very probable.

His expression dropped at your words, pursing his lips he nodded and lead your way to his car.

Contrary to the ride to the prom, this way was way quieter. None of you dared to speak. One because of regret and the other because of anxiousness. You looked at the trees that you passed by and how almost all windows were dark. You recognized your neighborhood and prepared to get out of his car when his voice stopped you.

“Y/n?”

You looked at him, your face painting a question, asking him to continue.

He debated for a while. “It’s this moment. Now or never,” he thought to himself.

“I had so much fun with you today, Y/n,” he simply stated, hesitation winning over his will to finally confess.

“Thank you, I also had so much fun.” You smiled and bid your goodbyes, leaving him in his car alone with his thoughts.

“Will you ever realize?”

Afternoon, Tuesday, 18th October 2022

The faint sound of keyboards’ clicking and soft whispers between students, accompanied by rustling scribbling on paper always helped you study. The whole atmosphere helped you compose yourself after long days of school and now college. Getting onto the major of your dreams wasn’t easy, but thanks to your investment in finals preparations and the help of your friends, you succeeded. Not only you studied what you’d always wanted, but you also weren’t as lonely as you were in high school. Because of similar interests, you quickly got in with them, spending breaks in each other’s company and having occasional sleepovers and other friendly hangouts. Thanks to them, accustoming to college life wasn’t as harsh and hard as you expected it to be.

Many things changed since you graduated from high school, apart from one thing - your usual friendly study dates with Heeseung were still a tradition none of you dared nor wanted to break. One would think that studying different subjects would break your friendship, but it only tightened the bond you had.

Heeseung reached for his backpack and took out a small box filled with white and red grapes. He placed it between you two so that you also could grab some. Seeing that you also took out your lunch box with walnuts and cashew nuts. You poured them into his box, knowing how he liked mixed flavors of grapes and nuts. He noticed that and immediately smiled in your direction, whispering a faint but still audible “Thank you”. You returned the smile and focused on your notes once again.

On the other hand, as much as he tried to, Heeseung couldn’t. His mind was flooded and confused about his own feelings for you, which only grew stronger as time passed. Ever since he tried confessing and getting closer to you during prom he didn’t dare to try again. The panic he saw in your eyes spoke for themselves. Fear of losing you overwhelmed his heart, he knew he wouldn’t be able to endure that. That’s why he tried ignoring all the love he had for you, usually failing miserably.

“What are your plans for the weekend?” you asked quietly, trying not to disturb other people around you.

Heeseung got back to his senses and thought for a second. “I have a basketball match at 6 on Saturday,” he replied, raising his one eyebrow. “You forgot?” he asked but it sounded more like a statement, not a question.

You pursed your lips together and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“No worries. Are you still planning to come?” He closed his book and turned around to face you directly.

“Of course!” you exclaimed in a whisper. “I never missed any of your matches and I’m not planning to change that. I like seeing you win,” you added, not knowing you caused his heart to flutter and a swarm of butterflies to fill his stomach.

“What if I don’t win?” he asked, unable to control a bright smile.

“I think we both don’t believe it will ever happen,” you remarked and a few people shushed you, annoyed by your too loud for a library conversation. Heeseung and you mumbled quiet apologies and returned to your books, trying to keep yourselves from laughing.

You called the study session off a little bit an hour later.

“You sure you don’t need a walk home?” he asked for a millionth time today.

“Hee, I’m sure. Besides don’t you have a training today? You better not be late again,” you scolded him and he raised his hands in a surrendering gesture.

“Okay, but text me as soon as you get home.” He pointed at you and squinted a bit.

“I will, bye!” you assured him and waved at him.

Deciding to take advantage of the last warm days, you took a longer route home. You passed by many places you used to go to while you were still a high school student. Cafes you used to study in with Heeseung whenever there were too many people in the library, a park where both of you ate lunches during hot summer days, a basketball court where he taught you how to play and gave you tips on how to make a score. It made you realize that apart from memories with Heeseung you can’t reminisce about other ones, as if you knew him your whole life. You stopped by the cafe you studied in together for the first time, and remembered how awkward you were with each other back then. You smiled at the memory of the very much begging of your friendship. Now that same cafe was filled with couples, taking photos together or of each other and sharing sweet desserts. The sight of love made you question if your future partner is going to like Heeseung. But the thought of anybody not liking him seemed impossible for you.

You continued walking when you saw a familiar figure approaching you. A figure you didn’t expect to meet.

“Hi Y/n! It’s me, Jisung!”

Evening, Tuesday, 18th October 2022

“It’s been a while, I almost didn’t recognize you,” Jisung said in a friendly tone. You also almost didn’t recognize him. He wore the complete opposite attire to his usual pair of jeans and collection of plain T-shirts, now wearing a suit with elegant shoes.

“Yeah, me too,” you spoke and a sheepish smile with a hint of disbelief crept on your face.

“How have you been? I haven’t seen you in like ages!” Jisung kept on smiling and tilting his head to the right, an old habit of his.

“Jisung what do you want?” you asked quickly, scared of his reaction.

Seeing your expression he sighed and spoke: “Y/n, listen. I’m really sorry. For everything I’ve done. I treated you badly, and I regret it with my whole heart.” He placed his hand on the left side of his chest. “What I did was wrong and I want to sincerely apologize to you. I’m so sorry.” His words seemed to be genuine and truthful to you.

“It was a long time ago, it’s okay, Jisung.” You shrugged and smiled softly.

“It’s not really okay, unless you let me redeem myself. let me take you out,” he said nonchalantly.

“Oh?”

“Do you have plans on Saturday? There’s a new restaurant that opened a while ago, what do you think?”

Thinking for a while you slowly nodded. Your movement made a strand of your hair fall from behind your ear and he was quick to fix it, making you blush.

“Great. It’s a date then. I’ll come and pick you up at 7,” he announced and said his goodbye, leaving you dumbfounded.

You felt like your chest gets tighter and your stomach fills with butterflies. You turned around to look at him once more but he was already gone. Just when you thought you finally forgot about him and your feelings for him, that somehow buried themselves in the depth of your heart, all you could think about was him once again. The way he looked at you, the way he smiled at you, the way the slightest touch of his fingers brushing fragile skin on your cheek, it all made you feel like on shaky ground.

Then it hit you. You’re going on a date. Your first ever date. You almost let a squeal leave your lips, but stopped it on time by covering them with the palm of your hand. Excitement rushed through your body and you hurriedly headed home.

When you arrived home and were done letting out all excitement and thrill of your body by jumping all over your place, you took the phone out of your bag. You noticed a few missed calls, all from Heeseung. You remembered how you promised to text him when you arrive home, and now he must’ve finished his practice.

You dialed his number and didn’t have to wait for too long for him to answer.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?” he asked worriedly.

“Yes, oh my god, Hee! Everything is great!” you couldn’t contain your happiness and wanted to share the news with him.

“Woah, woah, what’s that excitement about?” he asked and laughed at your crazy behavior.

“Hee, I’m going on a date!”

For a while your painful silence submerged the call, the only sound was soft breathing on the other side of the line.

“Heeseung? Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yes, yes, uhm, I’m okay,” he choked out.

“Well, then aren’t you gonna congratulate me?”

“Y/n, I’m very happy for you, but do I know this guy? You‘ve never told me about him.” His voice was rather cold in contrary to his words.

“You know him! It’s Jisung, from our high school.”

“What?” Heeseung couldn’t believe his ears. “Choi Jisung? The one who bullied you?”

“You’re at it again? He didn’t bully me Heeseung! He used to be my friend. Besides, why would you know what type of relationship we had?” You were mad. He never had an opportunity to truly get to know him, yet he was talking badly about him. This made your blood boil, because you knew him, and he certainly wasn’t as bad as Heeseung painted him.

You thought you truly knew Jisung. And you did to some point in your lives, now living on the deluded picture of him made by your imagination.

“Y/n, he treated you horribly! You were scared of him, don’t tell me otherwise, 'cause your reaction said otherwise.” His voice was harsh, sounding like he was scolding you.

“He changed! He apologized to me. He knows what he did was wrong!” you exclaimed, now even more mad than before.

“Y/n people like him don’t change. And even if he did, he shouldn’t be forgiven and given any more chances. Especially by you.”

“Let me decide on that. Fuck you, Heeseung,” you said and ended the call. You threw it on your bed and went to the bathroom to take a long shower, in hopes it would help you calm down.

Your words rang in Heeseung’s head for a long time. He froze, the phone still near his ear as if he was hoping you would say you didn’t mean that. But as minutes passed he realized you certainly did mean your words, and that they were meant to hurt him. He sat on the ground and slumped against a wall. Feeling his eyes sting as they brimmed with hot tears, Heeseung quickly wiped them off before completely breaking down. He stood up after a while and reached into a drawer for his car keys, ready for a night drive.

Afternoon, Saturday, 22nd October 2022

You stood in front of your wardrobe wondering how you should dress for your date with Jisung. You tried hard to think of anything that would suit the vibe and atmosphere of a fancy restaurant you’re going to, but your mind was flooded with thoughts of Heeseung. It was the longest you went without contacting each other, but your ego didn’t let you reach out to him. He should be happy for you, for his friend. After you would be happy for him if he told you he was going to have a date. Right?

After what seemed like ages of wondering about your outfit you contacted one of your classmates, Jennifer.

“Jen, do you have a second you could spare me? you asked as soon as your friend picked up the phone.

“Y/nie, my love, for you I always have time. What’s wrong?” she spoke and brought a long-lost smile to your face.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you but I remember how stressed you were with your presentation, but…” you started, feeling guilty for not telling her sooner.

“Oh my god, what is it? You’re scaring me!” she raised her voice dramatically.

“Well, I’m going on a date and I don’t know what to wear. I still have lots of time left but I’m getting a little bit nervous,” you confessed.

“Oh my! Finally, I’m so happy for you, bestie!” You heard her clapping her hands excitedly. “How about me coming over and rummaging through your clothes?”

“That would be great, but Jen you don’t have to!”

On the other side of the line, you heard the jingling sound of her car keys.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages, plus you need to tell me how that happened, so don’t try to stop me now!” she said, and soon after you hung up.

While you were waiting you sat on your bed, thinking of possible scenarios of today’s date. Will it look like it does in movies? Will it end up only on this one date or will there be more?

Suddenly, the silence of your room got disturbed by the sound of a notification. You took your phone and read a reminder: “♡ Heeseung’s match 6pm ♡”. This made you bite your lips, guilty of not keeping your promise. Sure, you were mad at him, but he is still your best friend. “I never missed any of your matches and I’m not planning to change that,” you remembered your words from a few days ago. You placed your elbows on your thighs and hid your face in your hands. Just when you were about to let out your emotions you heard knocking on your front door. You opened them and they revealed a smiling Jennifer.

“Let’s get to the work, shall we?”

Thanks to Jennifer, picking your outfit was filled with laughter and her anecdotes. This helped you deal with the anxiety caused by your upcoming date, but also, more importantly, stop yourself from thinking about Heeseung. Before you knew it, the outfit was ready, along with a bag, some accessories, and shoes. You still had some time before 7 PM, so you sat in your room and chatted for a while, enjoying each other’s presence after days of different schedules.

“Okay, but most importantly, how did he ask you out?” She waited for your answer with anticipation and excitement.

“I mean we met when I was having a walk in the neighborhood and he just asked me.” You shrugged but your cheeks filled with red tint.

“Oh my god!” Jennifer exclaimed, emphasizing the last word. “I thought he will never ask you out, at this rate. But finally, my prayers were listened to!” She raised her hands in the air, while you were, to say the least, confused and dumbfounded.

“What do you mean? Who are you talking about?” you asked.

Your friend’s smile faded and she lowered her hands. “About your friend, that Heeseung guy. Is he not the one that asked you out?”

“No, why would you think that?”

“So it’s not Heeseung you’re going out with?” You shook your head and noticed how disappointment filled her eyes.

“Oh come on, Jen. You’re not happy for me anymore?”

“I am!” she defended herself. “It’s just… Both of you already seemed like a couple or like you at least like each other. You always say he’s like an angel, that you can’t imagine your life without him, so I kinda just assumed you liked him. Plus the way he looks at you speaks for itself better than your constant love confessions.”

Love?

Evening, Saturday 22nd October 2023

The gymnasium hall was filled with loud cheers coming from both bleachers. Players were practicing shots and warming up before the first match of the season. Heeseung was one of them, yet the ace known for excellent aim failed to score almost anything. He kept on looking for you in your usual place where you cheered for him along with your friends. But that one spot was empty, soon to be occupied by some unknown to him student. He tried to push the thoughts of you away, but as much as he tried the more he failed. None of the players or the coach had ever seen this part of him.

The match barely started, yet your university’s team was failing like never. Mainly because something apparently preoccupied the mind of the captain of the team. This made a coach come to a decision of seating him on a bench, for the first time during his player days.

You waited patiently on the couch, ready to go out. The clock showed half past seven, which made you worried, if he will even come. What if he got into an accident? What if something bad happened to him. You anxiously were looking at your phone, waiting for some message from Jisung. You were about to call him when your phone screen lightens up, showing his caller ID. You answered almost immediately.

“Hello?”

“Y/n! I’m so sorry for being late, but I’m already near your place so you can already come out,” he said and you could hear the sound of the engine’s drone.

“No worries, take your time,” you reassured him but noticed that the call already ended.

You locked the door behind you and made your way to the elevator.

You spotted his car from afar and waved at him. Your heart almost sprung out of your chest and felt how your throat tightens at every breath you took. You got in and greeted him shyly.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said, and before you could realize he left a quick and harsh kiss on your lips, leaving you shocked. Jisung on the other side smiled to himself and started the car.

“I thought we could go somewhere where we could be alone before eating, what do you say?” he asked placing his hand on your inner thigh, making you, to say at least, extremely uncomfortable.

You tried taking his hand off your body, but he only gripped your wrist tightly making you hiss. “Oh, Y/n. Don’t act so innocent.” He stopped at the side of the road. Looking around you couldn’t spot a single living soul around you nor any car passing by. “But I can assure you I’ll fuck you better than him,” he said bluntly and started unbuckling his belt.

Not really knowing what to do you slapped him across his face and hurriedly got out o his car. You ran as fast as you can, with stamina better than usual, due to a high level of adrenaline in your body. You thought of the place you should go to. He knew where you lived so your place wouldn’t work. Jennifer’s apartment on the other hand was far away from where you were. The only place that was near enough was Heeseung’s apartment. Looking at the time you thought he must already be home. You turned around once more to see if he was following you. Not thinking twice you continued running, still shocked not knowing what exactly happened.

The first thing Heeseung did after arriving home from his first-ever lost match was take a cold shower. He let the icy water cascade down his body while still thinking about you. What if he did something bad to you during your date? He knew Jisung was up to no good, yet he let you go out with him. He stepped out of the cabin and hurriedly dressed himself into comfortable clothes.

Where should he search for you? he should’ve at least asked you where you were going and now he had an entire city to rummage. Not bothering to dry his hair he grabbed his keys and opened the door only to see you, completely breathless, on the edge of crying at his sight.

Night, Saturday, 22nd October 2023

You stared at your reflection in a mirror, under the bright light of Heeseung’s bathroom. None of you dared to speak, both allowing you to catch your breath, collect thoughts and speak whenever you’re ready. He just let you in and gave you his T-shirt and pair of shorts you always wore whenever you paid him an unexpected visit and wanted to get changed into something more comfortable.

Heeseung decided to prepare a quick meal for you and took your favorite snacks he stored in his kitchen, just in case. Your state worried him to the point he didn’t know what to do. He knew one thing though. Jisung wanted to hurt you, and either he succeeded or his attempt stayed as an attempt. He waited patiently for you, giving you all the time you needed, and thought of all the possible scenarios and how he could comfort you.

You finally decided to leave the bathroom and took a seat next to him on the couch. For a while, the silence filled the room with hesitation and uncertainty.

“Do you wanna talk or eat first?” he asked, trying to sound as gentle as he could.

“Eat,” you simply whispered, voice cracking on the way.

Heeseung looked up at you. You hugged your knees, eyes mentally checked out. He raised his hand to rub your shoulder but stopped himself midway, instead he just nodded and stood up to hand you your bowl. You quietly thanked him and took a bite of still hot noodles he had prepared. Silence once again submerged the room, the only audible sound was an occasional noodle slurp.

Once you finished and placed a bowl on the table sudden realisation hit you. You were assaulted. Jisung wanted to hurt you and he certainly didn’t change. And that Heeseung was right. Your eyes brimmed with tears.

Your expression told him everything he needed to know. Guilt crept over him and all h could think was if it could be prevented. If only his pride and ego didn’t blind him if only he wouldn’t let his emotions stop him. But now it was too late. You, the person he loved dearly was hurt, making him feel helpless.

Before he could think how can he comfort you, you were already in his arms. You cried your heart out on his shoulder as he just closed you in his warm and secure embrace, wanting to bring home to you, in such a crisis you were in.

“Hee, you were right!” you cried, choking on each word. “I should’ve listened to you, it’s all my fault!”

Heeseung pulled out t your words and cupped your cheeks in his palms. His eyes were full of compassion and regret, accentuated by tears that threatened to fall down his face. “No Y/n. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything to deserve this. I am here to listen and help you.”

His words felt like a soft Sunbeams that hit your skin after days of constant rain. You felt like your tensed body slowly relaxes at his touch and words as he spoke. Realizing how lucky you got, to have a friend like him you smiled as tears still blurred your vision. Nonetheless, you still noticed how he also smiled at you, eyes expressing nothing but pure love and will to protect you from everything.

“Plus the way he looks at you speaks for itself better than your constant love confessions,” you recalled Jennifer’s words now replaying all the memories you made with him during those almost 4 years of friendship.

How he never hesitated to help you whenever he saw you struggling.

How he never let you skip meals during exam season, sacrificing his own study time.

How he always managed to make time for you.

How he helped you live to the fullest during your high school days.

How he was the only person to truly know how to calm you down and help you relax.

How he was the only person to know your true self.

How he just stayed by your side, even though you were wrong, and hurt him with your insensitive words.

He truly does love you. How could you not see this?

What bugged you, even more, was how you didn’t realize you loved him too, maybe even more than he loves you. His compassion, passion, and kindness made him an angel you did not deserve.

“Hee, I’m so sorry.” You shook your head from disbelief at your own obliviousness and stupidity. “I’m so sorry for hurting you, for what I said a few days ago. I regret it and never intended to hurt you.”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he just smiled and invited you into his embrace once again. You gladly fell into his arms and melted in the comforting touch that helped you feel at ease. Your oasis. Your home.

Evening, Friday, 28th April 2023

The spectators were going crazy at the fierce match between the two teams. Your university’s players were currently losing by a few points but still were hoping to win regionals. While teams were discussing tactics with their coaches during a short break you were shouting words of encouragement along with other fans.

After the floor got cleaned players once again stepped on the court and started the last quarter. The ball relocated quickly between the hands of opponents when because of a small mistake of one of them it landed in your team’s captain, Heeseung’s hands. Your side of the bleachers screamed out of joy as he scored 3 points.

For a few minutes, none of the teams scored, raising the stress and emotions to the maximum. Now Heeseung’s team needed a final word to win the game and knock current front-runners off their pedestal. The tension in the air suffocated everyone, they were equally close and far from winning, because of the exhaustion of the other team.

The clock showed one minute till the end and a sudden rush of adrenaline overpowered Heeseung’s body. He had to lead his team to victory and he knew he could do it. He waited for the right moment and took the ball away from another player. He rushed to the hoop making an impressive buzzer beater leaving one side of the hall in tears of regret and the other one of joy.

The team surrounded him in a group hug, celebrating the victory and making it to the nationals, for the first time in your university’s history.

Seeing him so happy and smiley because of victory made your heart fill with glee and pride.

You saw how his teammates’ girlfriends rushed to congratulate them. That’s when Heeseung and your eyes met. He made a confused expression and you saw him say, barely audible because of the noise: “What are you waiting for?” and opened his arms.

You laughed and rushed his way to engulf him in a hug, not caring about the layer of sweat that covered his body and clothes. You pulled out, arms still wrapped around his neck, and kissed him, feeling salty drops on your lips. He melted in your touch and lifted your body while spinning around. You giggled against his lips and pulled away saying: “I’m so proud of you, love” making his cheeks and tips of ears turn bright pink. “I love you so much,” you confessed and looked deeply into his beautiful dark eyes.

“I love you more,” he said leaving a sweet kiss on your temple.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

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