#i swear im not a creep i just like counting things

[theoryandahalf]

If I had a youtube I would 100% make a compilation of every single santom interaction just for funsies

So there was a part of my incredibly neurodivergent brain that thought, 'hm I wonder if I could track every single shippy moment with Tom and Santi on a spreadsheet.'

Then I decided that would be the moment I get put on a list by Team Theorist.

Also, not to enable but like if you have a gmail, you have a YouTube account, it's super easy now. Just say'n.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

CALL MY NAME AND I'LL COME RUNNING ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru can be irritating, at times. but even if you push him away, he’ll always, always be there for you when you need him.

word count; 8.7k (this was supposed to b a short drabble but i was possessed by the devil halfway through)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, reader n toru have a fight, mild swearing (a couple fucks here n there), hurt/comfort, satoru has communication issues but he’s trying his best, depictions of stalking (reader gets followed by a random creep but satoru comes to the rescue dw), uhh implied thoughts of violence? (satoru wants to Maul said dude but doesn’t), literally just me being in love with satoru gojo for 8.7k words straight

a/n; no thoughts head empty only gojo running through the streets like a wild beast looking for u <33 im normal about him yeah.

“you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?”

satoru smiles. the sentence isn’t one he’s unaccustomed to hearing.

usually, the words are soaked in an undeniable fondness, as they spill from your lips. rich with exasperated love. one that never fails to have the corners of satoru’s lips curling up, a mellow kind of joy blossoming in his chest.

but now, that fondness is nowhere to be found. 

you sound thoroughly exasperated, and a little bit fatigued. more than anything else, there’s a vague irritation behind the tilt of your voice, something almost cold. it makes all the difference in the world. 

and yet, despite that, a certain someone chooses to pay no heed to the bad omen.

“aw, c’mon. you know you love me, baby.”

satoru is grinning. lighthearted, awfully sweet. there’s a certain smugness to it, though, one he couldn’t wash away even if he was aware of it; you wouldn’t do so even if you could. that smugness is a part of him, one that you’d usually find endearing. 

but right now, it only seeks to further your frustration.

it was a stupid fight, truthfully. completely meaningless. satoru had forgotten to pick up after himself for, like, the fourth consecutive time, and so you grew annoyed. not by a lot, but enough that you felt the need to be firm when you reminded him not to make the same mistake over and over again.

but satoru had only grinned, in that self-satisfied fashion of his, and apologized in a way you couldn’t possibly call sincere. then he did what he usually does — promises to work on it. to not do it again. he never follows through, though.

but even that thought wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you truly angry. what really began to irk you was the fact that satoru wasn’t taking you seriously, even in the slightest.

that’s how he always is, when it comes to this kind of thing. and you try to be patient, you do. you try to be understanding. sometimes you even appreciate that he keeps the atmosphere light, but other times, you just can’t help but feel irritated by it.

and the current situation happens to fall into the latter category.

you don’t care if satoru leaves a candy wrapper or two out, every once in a while. of course you don’t. it’s a silly thing to argue about. but would it hurt for him to just listen to you? to try to put himself in your shoes, for once? it’s not about the wrappers, or the undone dishes. it’s about the way he treats you when you complain about it — like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t matter. even if it obviously does, to you.

so, gradually, the topic of your little argument began to shift, into a conversation about satoru. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to talk about the things that bother you in a serious fashion. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to take you seriously.

and he just keeps proving your point, with every word that falls from his lips.

at this point, you’re genuinely beginning to feel a little angry. but satoru doesn’t see that as the warning sign it is — he just thinks it’s cute. he’s just been cooing at you, this whole time, despite your numerous attempts to actually explain how much his behavior affects you sometimes. it feels a bit like talking to a wall. satoru keeps on teasing you, even as you try to be firm about your point, and only brushes you off with empty promises to do better and more unneeded comments about how much he wants to hug you when you pout like that.

and you falter, a little. of course you do. you’re weak to satoru. weak to his words, that sweet voice of his, that pretty grin. but that only makes everything worse, because if you let yourself look even a little bit flustered at his comments, he sees that as his cue to continue.

you don’t even know if he’s doing it on purpose, at this point. is he doing it because he knows it’ll annoy you, or does he genuinely not understand that you’re upset? you’d like to think that there’s no malicious intent behind it, but can’t he see how troubled you are? you don’t get it. you don’t get him, and that frustrates you most of all. satoru can be so goddamn convoluted, sometimes.

so you simply can’t help but feel annoyed. angry, even. how long have you been arguing for, at this point? you’re not sure. but you feel the frustration inside of you grow, as the minutes tick by, into something you know will eventually explode.

a sigh falls from your lips, deep and exasperated. a little bit exhausted. “i’m serious, satoru. you’re not even listening.”

“i am!” he protests, stubbornly. childishly. “you just look so cute when you’re all mad. not my fault you’re so distracting.”

satoru smiles, voice sugar sweet, but all you can do is frown. does he really think it’s cute that you’re upset? the thought makes you somewhat sad. but you can’t show that, can’t let that part of you win — you don’t even want to think about the possibility of you crying, because of this. yeah, no way in hell. 

so instead, you channel it into anger. as the blood inside your veins comes to a boiling point, you dig your nails into the skin of your palms, gnawing at your bottom lip and shifting from one foot to another.

”satoru, i’m —” another sigh, sharp and vexed like the blade of a knife. ”i’m trying to have a serious conversation, here. can’t you see that i’m upset?”

satoru takes a moment to look at you, from behind the black glass of his shades.

he can. of course he can see that. you’re frowning, and there’s a crease between your brows, and you keep huffing and sighing every three seconds — you’re obviously, undoubtedly upset. and satoru wants to take you seriously, he does. it’s just that the part of his brain that only ever wants to coddle and tease you keeps persuading him not to.

he’s not lying, either; you do look cute. almost too cute to take seriously, when you’re pouting so sweetly, a little red in the face from all the frustration bubbling inside your chest. you look so small, glaring up at him like an angry puppy. 

satoru can’t help but smile. it’d be impossible not to.

and he will listen to you, will take you seriously. he knows you’re angry, knows you’re upset, and he intends to deal with that properly. but he doesn’t need to do it right now.

just a little more teasing, before he has to stop beating around the bush. satoru dreads it, a little bit, dreads having to genuinely be serious, be open and apologetic. it always feels so strange, so discomforting. 

all that stuff can wait until later. for now, he just wants to see you blush a little more, huff and puff at his limitless affection, that he knows you love deep down. where’s the harm?

(and therein lies the problem. satoru is observant, and typically good at seeing the line that he shouldn’t cross when it comes to you. but there are times when he slips up, times when he doesn’t realize that his words have begun to sting. times when the line becomes blurry, because he knows some part of you enjoys the way he babies you, and sometimes it blinds him to the part of you that doesn’t.)

satoru is smiling. it’s the same as always — big, bright, glazed over with honey-sweet adoration. smug and teasing. it’s such a satoru-like smile that it makes your breath hitch, sometimes, makes your heart race with wonder. but now all it does is annoy you. everything you love about satoru is annoying you, right now. 

in your eyes, that pretty smile of his seems almost taunting. like he’s trying to pick a fight with you, trying to make you even more upset. you don’t want to blow up over something like this, you really really don’t — but for some reason, you feel dangerously close to. it’s not like you at all.

you bore into his eyes with a cold glare, even though you can’t exactly see them with his shades in the way. posture straight and rigid as you try to make yourself look bigger. you must look at least a little bit menacing, like this. right?

“i’m seriously angry with you,” you say, hoping your voice sounds as austere to his ears as it does to yours. “don’t you get that?”

satoru coos, unable to hold the sound back. he doesn’t notice the flicker of hurt in your eyes, only focusing on how the sunset rays frame your figure, kissing your skin with sun-soaked fervor. you look so pretty. and that angry look on your face is too tantalizing not to tease.

“aww,” he croons, inching closer to you. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes that you can’t see, unmistakably fond. “is my little baby that upset?”

you blink. his voice sounds even more sugar-sweet now, obviously exaggerated. there’s amusement there, too — like this is just one big joke to him. you think he must be doing it to belittle you, to embarrass you. speaking to you like you’re some kind of grumpy toddler, and not a grown adult trying to have a serious conversation with their partner. your blood boils, boils, boils.

— and so the cup overflows.

“oh, go fuck yourself.”

it’s almost in a hiss that the words fall from your lips, cold and harsh; they leave the confines of your throat before you have a chance to reconsider them, sudden and sickeningly heavy. crude, too. you’d never be so crass with him under normal circumstances.

but you’re overwhelmed, thoroughly and completely, and satoru is being particularly infuriating. you genuinely feel hurt by the way he’s disregarding your feelings, and that realization stings more than anything. 

so you can’t help but say the words, louder than you meant to, before turning on your heel swiftly and walking out of the room. 

you don’t even have time to register what you’re doing, legs moving on their own before your mind can catch up. brisk and heavy steps carry you to the door, all while you furiously attempt to blink away the tears of frustration that begin to form in your eyes.

it only takes a second for you to grab your jacket — then you’re out.

satoru hears the front door close, echoing off the walls of your apartment. you don’t quite slam it shut, but you close it with more force than usual, and he can’t help but inwardly wince.

a moment passes. 

then, he flops down on the couch, lanky arms and legs dangling uncomfortably off the edges. the groan that slips from his lips is muffled by the soft cushion as he burrows his face into it, while replaying your interaction inside his mind.

satoru can’t help but feel uncomfortable, with this conclusion. a little bit irked. a vague something rests inside his chest, something he doesn’t quite want to admit to feeling. it makes him feel a little bit sick.

(”oh, go fuck yourself.”)

he can’t recall you ever raising your voice at him like that. when it comes to him, you’re usually so patient; soft, understanding, gentle. for you to have snapped in such a way — to have stormed out of the apartment in your anger — he must have pushed you pretty far.

satoru sighs.

he really pissed you off, huh?

(he can never quite seem to get this right, can he?)

it was never his intention to make you genuinely mad. he just lost sight of the line, for a second. that’s all.

and maybe he was also trying to avoid the issue, trying to avoid actually arguing with you. because he hates it. he hates it more than anything. satoru would much rather see you smile and blush than act all serious and sad. 

he just wanted to make you laugh.

was it insensitive? yeah, probably. he just can’t help but fuck this up, it seems. now he’s gone and made you angry — and as much as the sight would usually thrill him, as cute as you look when you’re irritated, a pit of anxiety settles in his gut. everything just feels wrong.

more than anything, satoru feels restless. because, right now, there’s nothing he can do. he can’t chase after you, even if just to apologize — that’d make you even angrier.

he knows he needs to give you space. you were obviously overwhelmed; some fresh air will do you good.

it irks him, though. satoru wants to fix it. he always wants to fix everything, before it even breaks. and even now, all his mind can do is spin in circles, wondering how he could possibly cheer you up.

he’ll just have to apologize, when you get back. and hope you forgive him. maybe he can get you something sweet to munch on, or a bouquet of flowers. would that make everything okay again?

satoru doesn’t know. so he just scratches his head, and tries his damndest not to think of how defeated you looked before leaving.

your steps are heavy, dragging you forward, leading you somewhere you have no knowledge of. it’s chilly out, and the sun is already setting.

everything in the world feels so wrong. like it’s tilted slightly to the left, like the earth stopped spinning around its axis. like everything suddenly lost its saturation. 

you just needed to get away from him, for a while. away from that smug smile, that patronizing tilt of his voice. you couldn’t even stand to be in the same apartment as him. it’s not often you feel that way, not often at all. 

and it only increases your growing frustration. 

you are beginning to calm down, though — you know you are. the crisp evening air and the pleasant mingle of people soothes your muddled senses, smoothing down the crease of your brow and the ache in your chest.

a heavy discomfort, and a growing guilt. that’s all you can feel, as the anger slowly seeps out of you, turning into vapour with every exhale of your breath.

you hate arguing with satoru. you hate it more than anything. the guilt clawing at your chest barely leaves any room for anger — you almost yelled at him. just the thought of doing that to satoru makes you want to cry.

because you love him, at the end of the day, even when he’s being absolutely insufferable. he’s a sweetheart, your sweet boy, always trying to lighten the mood and make you smile. maybe you should have been a bit more understanding; you know satoru’s bad at this stuff, bad with emotions and vulnerability. and deep down, you know he’d never hurt you, not on purpose.

he probably just didn’t realize that you were genuinely upset. it’s a mistake that anyone could make.

but it just makes you feel so frustrated. like he’s not even looking at you. always hiding behind those shades, never opening up. never letting you see him wear anything but a smile. you want him to take it slow, open up to you at his own pace, but that doesn’t make the wait sting any less.

it’s not like you were asking for a lot. first, you simply asked him to pick up after himself. the way you do, the way anyone does. then, you simply asked him to treat you with respect.

a sudden pang of bitterness runs through your chest. sure, you could’ve handled it all better — but he could have, too.

every step you take hits the pavement with an irritated kind of decision. whatever. whatever. for now, you don’t want to think about it — all you want is to walk around and take in the sights, enjoy the peace and quiet.

so that’s exactly what you do.

before you know it, the sun has set, and the moon has risen — shining down and painting the streets in a mesmerizing blue, ephemeral and tranquil. it’s enough to give you some peace of mind, as you lurk around familiar streets, soaking in all the open space. so different from that suffocating apartment, and the man inside it, with that shit-eating grin and those breathtaking eyes.

(he’s called you, a couple times. you haven’t been gone for long — an hour or so, you think, maybe two. some part of you wanted to answer, just to hear his voice through the phone, but the part of you that’s still awfully irritated shut that down immediately. so, stubbornly, you just let it ring.)

the streets are empty, and the sky is dark. the light of all the lampposts illuminate your way, along with the soft flicker of the moon and stars. an endless galaxy stretches out before your eyes, little pale dots of stardust shining like jewels.

an ever-lasting, never-changing sky, that continues on for infinity. limitless. all the space you could possibly want, and then some.

for a moment, you can only look at the glittering stars in wonder, soaking in the feeling of absolute solitude. 

— it doesn’t last, though.

“you alone?”

a sudden voice calls out from behind you. close, discerningly so, enough to make you flinch. you curse yourself for not noticing anything sooner, caught up in looking at the starry sky, in angling your phone to take a picture of it.

hesitantly, you turn your gaze towards the sound — wincing under your breath when you see the man a couple steps away from you. he looks a little crazed, you think, shifting from foot to foot and hunching over. 

oh fuck no.

great, just what you needed. that’s just your luck, isn’t it? your brain can only spin in circles, trying to get your body to react, to run. to do literally anything except just stand there like a deer caught in headlights.

in your nervosity, all you manage is a painfully awkward laugh, as you stutter out a halfhearted response.

“oh — no, i’m just waiting for my boyfriend!” you smile, unconvincingly. your face must be soaked in unease. whatever he wants with you, it can’t be anything good.

at least you said that one word clearly — boyfriend. you can only hope it’s enough to scare him away.

but the man only shifts a little more, emitting a gruff kind of hum, not saying anything else. your spine tingles with apprehension. every cell in your body wants you to leave. he seems a little intoxicated, you think, and the thought only stirs the anxious feeling in your chest further.

god. why does this have to happen to you? why now?

thankfully, you’ve got your phone in hand. as your mind scrambles for solutions, your fingers tap at the screen, urgently scrolling through your contacts. in such a frightened state, your acting must be positively awful, but you make a vague attempt. not like you’re getting any oscars for this, either way.

“sorry — he’s calling me now!” you stammer out, taking a step away from the man. he doesn’t make a move to follow you, so you take your chances and press your phone to your ear, feet carrying you forward with haste.

in your fear, you don’t think twice about calling satoru — but you can’t help but internally wince at the decision, as the anxious patter of your own heart resounds in your ears.

how are you supposed to talk to him, exactly? what are you supposed to say? hey, i know i just told you to go fuck yourself, but will you hear me out? i need your help. 

and you do. you do need his help. all you want is for him to swoop in, to take you in his arms, your knight in shining armor.

satoru’s said it to you, before — that if you need anything, anything at all, you can come to him. that you can always, always lean on him, without exception. 

you know that he likes helping you. likes it when you open up to him, when you put your trust in him. when you aren’t afraid to ask for his help.

so despite everything, you hold your phone to your ear, walking away with brisk steps and praying that he’s not petty enough to ignore your call like you did to his.

back home, satoru is still resting on the couch, tapping his feet and trying to distract himself. 

he’s a little anxious. it’s dark out, and you’re not answering any of his calls. when you’re out of sight, like this, he can’t help but feel a little helpless — worried about everything that could happen to you. but it’s not like he can force you to pick up. 

you’re probably at a friend’s house, or something. telling them all about what an asshole your boyfriend is. as much as the thought stings, satoru hopes it’s true; it’s all he can comfort himself with. anything is fine as long as you aren’t out walking alone, in the cold, in the dark.

entirely caught up in his spiralling thoughts, satoru almost flinches when the phone rings. laying on the table in front of him, just within arm’s reach. it only takes a second for him to react as his gaze flits to the bright screen, and he sees the contact name, the many heart emojis littering it.

with a start, satoru jumps up. his back straightens out, and his hand flies to grab the phone — he’d feel embarrassed at his own eagerness, but right now he just can’t help it. even under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t let the phone ring more than twice, always giddy to hear your voice whenever possible. 

this time, however, he does falter slightly.

he takes a split second to simply stare at the phone in his hand, at the affectionate contact name. what is he supposed to say to you, exactly? how is he supposed to act?

satoru doesn’t know, but as if afraid that you’ll change your mind and stop the call, yourself, he opts to simply answer. he’ll just have to figure out what to say on the fly.

(unfortunately, satoru’s instinctual response to anything is either smugness or playfulness.)

“well, well. look who finally decided to pick up.”

you’re the one who called him, not the other way around — but satoru can’t be bothered with small details like that right now. he only hopes you don’t notice the faint nervosity in his voice, the stiffness as he tries to sound unbothered.

you don’t notice anything at all, mind far too muddled, too clouded by fear. all you can do is take a deep breath, desperately trying to grasp control over your wavering voice.

“— satoru?” you call out, voice meek and frail. the man in question notices it immediately, sitting up a little straighter, but before he can say anything you continue. “i’m sorry, i just — are — are you still at home?”

there’s an anxious tilt to your voice, one that’d be impossible for satoru to miss. your words are a little breathy, spoken in a fast tempo, and he feels a sudden dread crawl up his spine.

something is wrong, his senses alert him.

“yeah,” he hums, trying to hide the turmoil in his own voice. “why? is everything okay?”

the line is quiet, for a second. “it’s just —“ an exhale, as you once again attempt to steer your voice in a less nervous direction. “just… some creepy guy tried to talk to me. i told him i was waiting for my boyfriend and now i’m walking away from him but he’s still following me.” another exhale, as you worriedly sneak a glance over your shoulder. ”i just — i don’t know what to —”

“where are you?”

satoru cuts you off, voice eerily serious. his gaze turned cold the moment he heard creepy guy, legs moving him towards the coat rack by the front door as if on autopilot. 

he’s already left the apartment by the time you answer, looking around you meekly.

“i… don’t know,” you sigh. “i’m not far. i walked past that one crêpe stand by the park but then i, like… continued up that street? and now i don’t really know where i’m going.”

you continue, a little exasperated as your gaze flits around the dark street. attempting to recall your steps, a difficult task with how on edge you feel. “i’ll try to look for a sign, or something,” you gulp. “… i’m sorry. i just wanted to get away from him.”

satoru’s voice is comforting, when he speaks, eager to console you. grounding and soft. “hey, it’s okay. i’m heading there now, alright?” he smiles, hoping you’ll hear it in his voice. “i’ll be there before you know it.”

you do hear it, and his words ease a little of the anxiety in your chest, despite your fear. “okay.” 

the line grows quiet, again, and your brows furrow in worry. “can — can i keep talking to you?” you ask, uncertain. a little pitiful. ”please?”

“of course,” satoru answers, instantaneous. he’s already making his way towards the crêpe stand with decision in his steps, mentally scanning the area ahead. despite his own anxiety at the situation, he attempts to sound as secure as he can possibly manage, desperate to soothe the worry in your voice.

“try to relax for me, okay? nobody’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”

his words are absolute, as he consoles you. he sounds so sure of himself, so much that you can’t help but believe in his words. so you nod, emitting a weak hum when you remember he can’t see you.

“can you tell me what you see, baby?”

“uhh…” you look around, blindly, trying to find some sort of meaningful hint around you. “there’s like… some toy shop?” 

satoru only hums. “can you check your location on your phone?” 

you blink. 

of course. why on earth didn’t that cross your mind before? 

“oh — yeah — fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i didn’t —“ you sigh, heavy. “hold on.”

following satoru’s instructions swiftly, your gaze scans over the screen. he waits, patiently, already heading past the park and up ahead. as soon as you succeed in finding the name of the street, you echo it to him.

satoru sighs, a little relieved. “okay,” he hums. “i’m not that far away. i’ll be there soon.” he only hopes his words can soothe your fear, even a little. “is he still following you?”

you glance behind you, and meet the gaze of the stranger. just like you were afraid of, he’s still following you — if anything, he seems to have gotten a little closer. with a jolt, your heartbeat picks up.

“yeah,” you gulp. 

satoru’s chest tightens. he emits a low hum. “just hold on. i’ll hurry.”

focusing only on the tilt of satoru’s voice, you try to calm your breathing. you just want to see him. the thought of doing so is the only thing keeping your trembling ribcage intact, at this point. 

you swallow a shaky breath.

“thanks, toru.”

a sudden pang of ache sprouts in satoru’s chest, like thorny vines curling around his ribcage. his heart hurts. you sound so scared, so very small. 

this is all his fault, he thinks. all of it. he got too careless; none of this would’ve happened if he had only been more considerate. if he had just stopped you from leaving and apologized, or hadn’t upset you in the first place. then he wouldn’t have to hear that scared little voice, wouldn’t have to imagine your body shaking like a leaf in the cold night. so far away from him. 

but satoru can’t beat himself up over it, not yet. there’ll be more than enough time for that later. for now, he needs to get to you — that’s the only thing on his mind.

so he lets his feet carry him forward, running towards your location with bated breath. he’s sure you can hear it, through the phone, even though he tries to contain it.

the sound consoles you, if anything. it reminds you that satoru is there, that he’s on his way. that there’s no need to be scared. 

but you can’t help but freak out, a little, when you hear the man call out from behind you.

“hey!” he slurs, stumbling towards you with unsteady steps. his voice is loud, angry, and it sends your mind reeling into panic mode.

a flinch overtakes your body, before you stumble forward, walking even faster than before. you’re almost running now, breath hitching as you gulp. satoru hears it all — your panic, the echo of the man. his own tempo picks up.

“baby, calm down, okay?” he consoles you, voice concerned and honey-sweet. “just keep walking. i’m almost there.”

“sorry —“ you squeak out, between flurry breaths. breathing uneven, laboured and anxious. but you try your best to calm down. “‘s just scary.”

it almost feels physical, the way it irks him. satoru wants to pull you close, more than anything, but he can’t. and that just makes the calamity inside his chest grow, clawing at his ribcage as if trying to escape, to go to your side. 

(he never, ever wants to hear that kind of fear in your voice again.)

“i know,” he soothes. “you’re doing good, honey. listen — he’s not gonna touch you. i won’t let him. you have nothing to be scared of.”

you nod, even as you exhale a shaky breath. ”i know.” 

and you do. you know there’s a truth, to satoru’s words, one that’s never failed you before.

because satoru is your safe space, at the end of the day — he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and sometimes he’s bad with emotions. but he tries, you know he does. and, more than anything else, you know that he’ll always, always be there when you need him. he’ll always be there to protect you. 

and a part of you is sure that everything will be okay, as long as he’s around.

(it’s easy to forget how trustworthy satoru really is, how much he cares. how dependable he is. and how serious he can get, when he truly needs to be, despite his childishness. it’s moments like these that remind you of that.)

but it’s still scary, at the end of the day. you can’t help but feel uncomfortable, a little lost in the world. because you and satoru just fought, you just told him to go fuck himself, and yet here he is. running to your side, in the middle of the night, because you’re scared and alone and you need him.

the man continues to shout, behind you, muttering curses you can’t quite make out. you look over your shoulder nervously, steps hurried.

and satoru runs like a man possessed, through the moonlit streets, gaze scanning the area like a wild beast. his most visceral instinct is screaming at him, tugging at his flesh and bones, desperate to protect you. to comfort you. to wash all your worries away. 

as he makes a sharp turn, he momentarily stops the movement, halting to look around. he thinks he must look a little crazed, with the moonlight illuminating his eyes, but he couldn’t care less.

especially not when his gaze lands on a certain person, further down the street — small and alone.

your eyes meet his.

with the darkness of the street, it’s hard to make anything out, but the light of the lamppost helps. though even without it, satoru’s sure he’d know it was you, just from the sensation that unfurls in his chest as his gaze lands on your figure. 

an audible sigh of immense relief falls from his lips, and his tense shoulders relax, eyes softening just a tad. he hears a similar noise coming from the phone in his grasp, and he assumes that means you recognize him too. not bothering to end the call, he puts it in his pocket, walking over to you with brisk steps. 

you stumble towards him, yourself, the worried crease between your brows now smoothed away. the closer he gets, the faster you move, until you can see the blue of his eyes. two pocket-sized moons.

satoru swoops you in for a hug before either of you can say anything.

he cradles you close, awfully close, so close you can hear his heavy breathing against your ear. it tickles your neck, along with his soft hair, and you shiver. his fragrance envelops your senses, a blend between fresh laundry, strawberries and some expensive cologne. your favorite scent in the world. 

and suddenly, the world is devoid of danger. nothing can get to you while satoru’s there. all that exists is you, and him, and the soft flicker of the moon.

satoru squeezes you tightly, ensuring himself over and over again that you’re safe. he might be squeezing you a little too tight, but he can’t bring himself to think about that just yet.

finally, that growing calamity inside his chest is satiated. winding down at the feeling of you pressed up against him, the indisputable proof that you’re okay. with you in his arms, satoru feels like everything is alright, again.

the fear inside his chest, so foreign it leaves him shaken to the very core, finally begins to dissipate too. he doesn’t think there’s anything that makes him feel quite as hopeless as the thought of not being there for you when you need him. he never wants to feel that fear again. it’s suffocating. it crushes his lungs.

all he can do is hold you close, his big palm smoothing down your hair, the back of your head, your spine. warm and comforting. keeping you steady against him. he can feel your heartbeat, rapid and anxious, so fast that his heart aches. satoru is eager to soothe you, eager to make it go away.

”i’m here, baby,” he breathes, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. ”you’re safe now.”

the words are spoken softly, right by your ear, and you exhale a shaky breath. you’re bundling up his clothing with your fists, anchoring yourself to him. after a little while, you let go, opting to wrap your arms around his midriff instead. nuzzling into his broad chest, you try to blink away your tears and contain your sniffles.

you nod against him, and satoru kisses the crown of your head.

and, finally, his gaze strays. it falls farther down the street, until it lands on a certain man — shifting from one foot to another. watching you both in silence.

the calamity inside his chest rouses from its slumber, once more.

satoru makes sure to keep his hands on you, still rubbing your back with one steady palm cradling the back of your head. keeping your face hidden in his chest, safe and secure.

then he raises his head, back straight, full height on display as his eyes meet the stranger’s. he can tell they do, even with the distance, the darkness of the street.

and satoru knows he looks menacing. he knows the light of the lamppost illuminates his figure perfectly, framing his tall stature and broad shoulders. and he knows the moonlight caressing his skin illuminates his face, his cold eyes — blue and uncanny, glowing even brighter than the moon. staring daggers into the man’s soul. if looks could kill, there wouldn’t even be any remains left to find.

the man stiffens, visibly, and satoru delights in it. he doesn’t leave, though, and for a second satoru wonders if he’s really intoxicated enough to come closer — 

but, sure enough, all he does is stagger a little. then he walks away, grumbling under his breath, hands in his pockets.

and satoru isn’t satisfied, with this conclusion. not in the slightest. he wants to run up to the man, wants to hold him up by the throat, wants to tell him off. because he has the nerve to terrorize someone like that, stalk them with intentions he knows can’t be anything but revolting. the nerve to do that to you, of all the people in the world —

satoru doesn’t know if he’s hated anyone quite as much. 

and a part of him wants to make him cower. make him fear for his life, just to make sure he never does anything like this again. leave him with a fear so great it’ll linger for as long as he’s alive.

(and a more animalistic side of satoru, one he doesn’t want to acknowledge, wants to do things that are much, much worse.)

— but you come first. without question, and without exception. he refuses to leave you alone, and refuses to make you look at the man for even a second more. 

so he’ll focus on you, entirely.

he can tell you’re still shaken up, heartbeat pulsating against him, little flutters of life prickling his skin. there’s a desperation in the way you hug his waist, like he could disappear at any moment. like he’ll slip away if you don’t keep him close. the sight tugs at satoru’s heartstrings. 

his first priority is to soothe you, always and forever. so that’s exactly what he does.

satoru smiles. it’s small, in the wake of the situation, but awfully sincere. fingers reaching down to trace over your jaw, he gently urges you to look at him; when you do so, hesitant, he cups your cheek with his palm.

your teary eyes feel like daggers to his heart, an unmistakable proof of his failure. his failure to protect you, to keep you safe and happy. but at the same time, he’s glad, from the bottom of his heart — that you’d let him see you like this. even after everything.

you look very meek, blinking the tears away as you look into his eyes. they’re bright, and comforting. you wonder if he left the shades at home, if he rushed over here so hurriedly that he didn’t think to bring them with him. you’re happy, in any case — the effect they have on you is undeniable. 

you can’t bring yourself to look away, consoled by the flickers of white inside his irises, like fluffy clouds in the blue sky. ever-lasting, never-changing.

satoru tilts his head, smile sweet and understanding. ”that was scary, hm?” 

his voice is tender, somehow so mature. like he’s some older, wiser being, comforting a scared child. it’s so soothing, so very grounding.

squeezing your eyes shut, you can only bring yourself to nod, as you nuzzle back into his chest.

”you’re okay now, honey,” satoru coos, smoothing down your back as you sniffle. an immense softness seeps through his whisper. ”i’ll always be here to protect you.”

there’s a truth to the statement, heavy and pious. like an oath, a pledge, something for you to believe in unquestioningly. you allow yourself to soak in the words, knowing them to be true.

you’re safe, now. there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. satoru’s here, and he’s hugging you, pressing kisses against your shoulder.

but you just can’t stop crying.

when you speak up, your voice is weak, barely above a whisper. close to breaking apart at the seams. too tired after everything to resist the guilt inside your veins, you sniffle, and part your lips.

”i’m sorry i yelled at you.”

satoru stills.

then, his gaze softens, considerably. he hears himself coo, softly, palm smoothing down the back of your head. 

his sweet angel. apologizing to him, when he’s the one who started this whole mess. when you’re still so shaken up. because he let you leave the house angry, because he made you angry in the first place. because he didn’t see how important the discussion was to you.

(“you’re not even listening.”)

yeah. he wasn’t. he didn’t really want to.

an acute sense of shame. an intense guilt. that’s what he’s been trying to push down, all this time. that’s the unnamed something. 

it’s hard for him. to be as sincere as you, as open with his feelings and emotions. as mature. because even in a situation like this, you can swallow your pride and frustration, and apologize. even when you aren’t in the wrong. you’re always the bigger person, always the one to give in first, because he’s too stubborn to do so himself.

next time, satoru pledges, he won’t let you. next time he’ll be the one to swallow his pride.

because, yes, being vulnerable and admitting that he was in the wrong makes him feel a little like he’s being skewered alive — but you’re important to him. he loves you. and he wants you to know how much he trusts you, how special you truly are. 

if he can show you that, by being a little sincere, a little serious, then any discomfort he feels in the process is a small price to pay.

satoru’s lips meet the crown of your head, as he encircles your smaller frame, arms reaching around your neck to pull you close. he rests his jaw lightly on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. ”you have nothing to apologize for, baby.”

a pause lingers between the words he’s already said and the ones he yearns to say, but can’t seem to pull out from within his throat. it takes effort, to squeeze them out; but every time he replays your own apology in his mind, it gets a little easier. he squeezes you lightly before opening his mouth, as if to give him strenght.

“i’m sorry.”

you blink. 

for once, satoru sounds sincere when he apologizes — almost painfully so. bordering on something you think may be nervosity. you try to look up, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but he keeps you hidden in the crook of his neck.

”i was being immature,” he continues, sighing. you don’t know if you’ve ever heard satoru sound so uncomfortable. ”you know how bad i am with this stuff. but i never want to — you know.” 

he makes a gesture with one of his hands, as if that will say the words for him.

“— i didn’t mean to upset you. honestly.” satoru inhales the cold air, in hopes it’ll make him more honest. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

you listen. intently, not missing a word, not a single tilt of his voice. it all sounds so genuine, almost foreign on his tongue. satoru seems to be trying to find the right words, grumbling a little under his breath. 

he’s cute, like this. kind of awkward, but that only makes him cuter. you nuzzle closer to him, comforted by his very existence.

”… i’ll work on it,” he whispers, at last. “i’ll listen to you. i promise. i really, really will.” 

you think satoru’s voice wavers, just a little, when he says his final piece. 

“so please don’t cry.”

this time, satoru doesn’t stop you when you attempt to lift your gaze, loosening his arms around you and raising his head from where it rests on top of yours. 

your eyes meet. satoru is smiling, weakly. he tilts his head, looking at you with something you could only ever describe as love.

”okay?”

such a lovely smile. so painfully genuine. his eyes are on full display, shining in the dark of the night, like splotches of moonlight. like someone stole the moon down to earth, and carved out little pieces to put in his irises. an ethereal hue.

he’s so gorgeous. hair just a tad messy, tousled from all the running he did to get here. cheeks a little red from the cold. when he smiles, his eyes crinkle. but he looks almost pained. 

(he was so, so worried.)

blinking away the tears clinging to your lashes, you simply stare, entirely mesmerized by the sight. satoru’s thumb goes to wipe at your glassy eyes, smoothing away the drops that threaten to fall. you want to engrave his expression into your memory, so you can never forget it. but it’s just a little too much.

so you hide in his chest, once more. the word that falls from your lips is tiny. “okay.”

satoru smiles, kissing the top of your head with a relieved exhale. bathing in your presence, still reeling from his show of vulnerability. he feels a little like he just cut himself open, let you peek inside his ribcage. the night air stings his skin. 

but you’re so warm, hugging him tightly, breathing and heartbeat finally relaxed. 

(he doesn’t mind it, not if it’s you — having you look inside his chest. if you asked, he’d let you build a shelter there. right between his fourth and fifth ribs.)

now that the words are out of his throat, they don’t burn at all. satoru feels a little silly, for being so scared to say them out loud. he knows you’d never use them against him.

all you do is snuggle closer, as if silently conveying your forgiveness.

you stand there for just a little while longer, wallowing in the tender atmosphere. finally, satoru makes a move to leave, and you begin to walk back home.

“sure you’re okay now, baby?”

you nod, exhaling a flurry breath. it turns into vapour in the cold of the air, drifting up and dissipating in the expanding starry sky. “yeah. thanks for coming so quickly.”

“of course,” satoru only says, choking back a yawn. 

your hands are intertwined, and he’s halfheartedly swinging them back and forth. it soothes your anxiety, and satoru’s protective instincts. you know neither of you will slip away, like this.

you shiver a little, subconsciously inching closer to satoru to protect you from the harsh bite of the midnight breeze. he notices, giving you a glance and a tilt of his head. “you cold?” 

“just a little,” you mutter, smiling weakly as you look up at him. ”i’m fine.”

satoru huffs. did you really think he’d be dissuaded by such a weak retort? there’s no way he’s letting you walk around all cold and shivering. 

so you come to a standstill, as satoru begins to shrug off his coat. he refuses to let go of your hand for even a second, making the process slower than usual — your heart flutters a little, as his fingers curl around yours, delicately. 

when he finally gets it off him, he wastes no time in draping it over your shoulders. it’s big on you, warm and soft, shielding you from the chilly air. satoru can’t help but giggle sheepishly, as he always does at the sight — you look so cute. 

“c’mon. let’s go home,” he grins, ruffling your hair teasingly.

satoru doesn’t feel cold, not in the slightest, as he holds your hand tightly. just your presence is enough to warm his bones to the marrow.

the silence between you is comforting and soothing, as you continue to walk. hand in hand, admiring the starry sky. you’re both too tired to speak — but satoru does so, anyway.

“i meant it, y’know.” satoru sounds sleepy, but earnest. ”i really will work on it.”

he doesn’t look at you when he says it, yawning softly and stretching his free arm. gaze fixed on the morning star. 

“oh.” you pause, squirming a little. sheepish. “thank you. i’m sorry that i — i mean.” a sigh. “i probably overreacted a little.”

satoru shakes his head, waving off your guilt. “nah. you’re right. i never want you to feel like i’m not taking you seriously.”

his gaze meets yours, tentatively. his eyes shine like wedding rings. “you mean a lot to me.”

the sincere words manifest themselves as a heavy pressure to your chest, closing in on your heart as if crushing it. it’s a pleasant sensation, though, overwhelming as it is. you’re a little scared that your knees will buckle if he keeps this up, but even if they do, you wouldn’t want him to stop — satoru’s love is terrifically overwhelming when there’s nothing to hide it, when it’s just love and nothing else.

but you’d never reject it. you’d let it crush you to death with a smile on your face.

all you can do is avert your gaze, afraid that you’ll fall into the blue sea of his eyes if you don’t. heavy thumps of blood resound in your ears as your heart beats, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.

“… you mean a lot to me, too.” you echo, holding his hand just a little tighter. warmth rises to your cheeks. “i just felt really frustrated, i guess. like you were looking down on me. i know you weren’t actually, though.”

satoru chews at the inside of his cheek, almost anxiously. “i know i can be a little much sometimes,” he says, tasting the words on his tongue. “and i appreciate you for putting up with that. i’m sorry i let it go too far. i’ll be more considerate.”

your heart stutters in your chest. you’re not sure what to say — the way he forms his words makes them feel so absolute. and you believe him.

“i’ll be more considerate, too,” you echo, looking down at the pavement. “i shouldn’t have blown up like that.” a pause. you mumble, quietly, a little embarrassed. “i shouldn’t have told you to go fuck yourself.”

satoru breathes out an amused huff, chuckling lightheartedly. his eyes carry a teasing glint when they meet yours. “i probably deserved that. no worries.”

“still,” you pout. satoru giggles. 

“we’ll both work on it, then,” he hums, tilting his head to find your gaze. “right?”

you blink. a small smile breaks out across your face. “right.”

satoru swings your hands back and forth, looking awfully happy with himself. you’re proud of him. really.

“oh —“ he says, breaking the sleepy silence once again. “and i’ll stop leaving wrappers around, too.”

this time, you’re the one who huffs out an amused breath. “thank you,” you grin, looking up at him. he thinks the sight is terribly precious.

a yawn leaves your lips, drowsiness sneaking its way into your bloodstream. you’re not sure if it’s due to the dark, or if you’re just a tad exhausted after all the arguing and panicking.

satoru notices, and gets an idea.

“you tired, baby?” he coos, eyes teasing but soft around the edges. “d’you want a piggyback ride?” 

when you give him a look, sleepy and kind of exasperated, satoru grins. you huff out an amused breath, just a tad embarrassed, but it only spurs him on.

so he crouches down, one knee meeting the pavement, letting your hand slip from his. you blink, tiredly, at the loss of contact. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s wearing that lovesick, smug little grin of his. 

”c’mon. your big, strong boyfriend’ll carry you.”

satoru’s feeling playful, you can tell. that’s usually a bad sign — but you can’t deny that you’re tired. and the prospect of getting carried all the way home is eerily tempting. 

your gaze falls on his back, and his broad shoulders. silently, you walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his neck. satoru holds you up by your thighs, and then stands up, jostling you a little; he does so without a hitch, and you’re reminded of how strong he really is. his grip is secure, and you trust him not to drop you, no matter what. 

you let out a content sigh, basking in the chill of the midnight air as you nuzzle your cheek against his soft hair. satoru chuckles.

”my sleepy lil’ sweetheart,” he coos, voice a tad raspy. ”lucky thing you’ve got me, huh?”

there’s a softness to his voice, despite the teasing tilt obscuring it. you can only huff out a breath, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and cling to him tighter.

satoru will get you home safe. he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and he can be bad with emotions — but you can always, always trust him on that. 

so, with his coat shielding you from the chilly air, and his back warming you up as he carries you back to your apartment, you allow your eyes to flutter shut; enjoying the cozy feeling his presence brings you.

he’ll always be there when you need him.

[strawberrymochin]

A Letter.....Long Lost!

kyojuro rengoku x fem!reader

word count- 12.2k

synopsis- the discovery of an old letter from kyojuro rengoku's room shakes the world of tanjiro. he thought he fulfilled every wish of rengoku. however he missed one. tanjiro needs to deliver it to the one it was written for; but the letter has nothing written except a name 'y/n'. who is y/n and how will tanjiro find her?

genre/warnings- post war timeline/ mentions of death/ slice of life/ angst/ fluff/ lots of flashbacks/ kamaboko trio going on a quest to find reader/ emotionally unavailable parents/ just read it i swear it wont disappoint/ comfort/ scenes of rengoku and mitsuri training/ mentions of mugen train

a/n- i had this idea in my head and i literally wrote this in two days. Loosely based off a film I'm obsessed with...this is my first time writing a long fic. im hella nervous. it will have a sequel with a reincarnation au and smut. not fully proof read, ignore small errors.

Nezuko chimed in as urokodaki made his appearance. Soon more people will join in. Kanao and aoi are helping in the kitchen, making several dishes while inosuke is trying to get aoi give him some to taste.

Tanjiro and zenitsu are spreading out the mats for people to sit and get comfy.

“urokodaki sensei! Please come and join.” tanjiro said noticing his former teacher, carrying a huge basket wrapped in a cloth with water patterns similar to his haori. Nezuko trails behind him bringing another basket.

“i brought some mitarashi dango and some hanami-zake for everyone.” said urokodaki with a soft voice, that made nezuko wonder if he was smiling under his tengu mask.

It's been 2 years since the war ended. People lost their dear ones with a pain bearing smile. Some endured injuries that would sustain through out their life marking them as ‘crippled’; while some sacrificed themselves for the greater good.

Seasons changed since then.

So did several people.

People who turned their hearts into stone, heavy from guilt of their family dying; who suffered from the culpability of being protected…

“giyuu san’s here too, please sit inside with the others while we get the stuff ready.”

“yeah how's your sister? I brought her some new kimonos”

A mild smile forming on his lips.

Tanjiro’s eyes widened a bit. It's kinda still new to him seeing such a soft side of the guy who barely used to smile.

……have let their guard down, allowing themselves to move on, now that there's no more threat hanging in the air.

People who had been afflicted by the remorseful long sleepless nights of trauma; killing the one who once bore them in her womb; whose eyes had become dull and frantic, dying inside in agony…..

“oi tomioka! Move outta my way!” grumbled sanemi, throwing a box wrapped in a delicate green cloth in tanjiro's direction as he catches it with difficulty. Having a hand crippled like an old man is sure a poor thing, not that tanjiro minds that.

“ahh the scary guy's here again! Don't touch the box tanjiro. It must've been poisoned!!!” shouted zenitsu, panicking around, hiding himself behind tanjiro.

“What did you just say?” Sanemi’s eyes narrowed at zenitsu, veins becoming more prominent, ready to throw a first at the blonde head's face.

“Goddamn shinazugawa! Don't scare the kid…” said giyu, grabbing his wrist and pulling him inside. “Wh-you’re such a creep tomioka!”

“Kk.”

“Stop giving me that kanroji face!” sanemi said as shivers ran down his spine. Somehow a smiling tomioka was scarier than muzan to him.

…have let go of their distraught, accepting the dreams which they wanted for their loved ones. Fulfilling it in their place.

“Both of them are creeps!” Zenitsu said digging his nails into tanjiro's skin as he spit curses on them. “Zenitsu they are gone now, can you please give this box to kanao san, it smells of fresh ohagi.”

“I'm telling you…it's fuckin poisoned”

“It's not, zenitsu…don't be like that” tanjiro pushed him away with the box. He then took up a broom and started sweeping any other leaves that fell down from the trees.

Pink flowers blossomed everywhere, now that another peaceful season had arrived.

Kanao had suggested nezuko and aoi that they should spend time together this hanami festival. Nezuko and aoi agreed to that instantly. Thus this is how they ended up inviting everyone at tanjiro's, whose house was surrounded by a lots of cherry blossoms.

Kiyo chan naho chan and sumi chan were playing with tengen’s baby as Suma kept pestering urokodaki san for loosening his face mask (I can't blame my lil curious mommy). Makio was sure annoyed at her behavior while hinatsuru just chuckled. Murata sat stiff in the presence of four former hashiras.

Almost all of them had arrived. Except the rengokus.

Aoi brought them some appetizers, as they kept on chatting. After decorating the food all of them would join outside admiring the moment of bliss.

“Senjuro Kun and shinjuro san ain't here yet right?” Asked tengen.

“They haven't made their arrival yet” announced aoi, “however tanjiro san is waiting outside for them, the food is almost done, we can start after they get here”

“HAHAHAHA…. RUSHING IN LIKE A BOAR!!!” inosuke dashed in with a sakura onigiri in his mouth, from the kitchen. “WAhahhh scar guy!! Fight me!” As expected from inosuke, nothing could ever stop him. At first he was a bit spooked seeing a lot of people at once and sticked to aoi till his normal composure returned.

“Still that dumb boar head! Will he ever get mature?” Sanemi grumbled lazily. “I agree” said giyu, smiling at sanemi, which almost made his stomach churn. Tengen bursted out in laughter, “I see you are still in spirit huh? Quite flamboyant of you.”

“YEAH THE GOD OF MOUNTAINS INOSUKE SAMA IS ALWAY—” Aoi smacked him on his head and dragged him away while muttering some apologies to the hashiras.

“He's still much of energy…and his voice has become much hoarse ain't it? I still remember taking those kids on that mission. And this kid in particular was such a ruckus.” Said tengen, stretching his arms.

“Isn't it good to see all of us after so long without having to fear losing someone?” Said hinatsuru, makio and Suma smiled at each other.

“But we had already lost many people.” Sanemi sighed. He wished he could apologize to genya. If life ever gives him another chance he would like to be a little less aggressive.

“If you keep sulking like that, your brother will definitely curse you from heaven.” giyu took a gulp of the matcha tea, sanemi sent at tanjiro's a month ago.

“Now that there are no demons, you two get along with each other quite well don't you think so?” Tengen threw the snarky question at them.

“what the—”

“I wish rengoku could have seen you guys like this…remember the one time himejima san told us that oyakata sama wanted to see giyu smile….”

“See me smile?”

“Yeah, what a waste of time i swear.”

“Rengoku disappeared for a while to buy glasses in order to make giyu smile.” laughed tengen.

“It didn't work though and then kochou emotionally blackmail me to make him laugh.”

“Oh so this is why you wanted to have sake daikon with me?” Giyu smiled again at sanemi.

“I swear if you make that kanroji face again at me, I will kick you on your balls.”

“Everyone food’s ready, let's go and sit outside!!” Said nezuko halting the heated nostalgic conversation of the two.

Murata finally lets himself relax a bit as the hashiras start moving out. Urokodaki slammed a hand at his back, as he felt his stiff posture return. “Don't be so stiff we aren't gonna ask you to duel.” murata’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment as urokodaki laughed off at the kid's nervousness.

These days are indeed peaceful.

Senjuro made his appearance a bit late. He apologized for his fathers absence, blaming on his health. It's not been that best for a few days.

“Oh goodness, is he really going to be fine, we can go run a check up on him you know?” Kanao offered an idea, worried about the shinjuro’s health.

“Thanks a lot. Actually there's something that has been troubling us for a while.”

“Is everything okay?” Tanjiro's asked with concern lacing his eyes. Sanemi noticed, he had always been kind. He was kind to his brother. During hashira training when tanjiro stepped over the line, it actually made sanemi kinda happy and relaxed. Atleast genya had someone in life he could rely on.

Shinjuro's put down his bowl and chopstick on the mats as he brought his hand to his knees.

“There's something we found a month ago….while cleaning aniki’s room.”

Not only tanjiro but tengen, giyu, sanemi, zenitsu and inosuke froze for a second. The untimely death of the young guy was such a sad event that has ached their hearts for a long time.

Tanjiro could smell senjuro’s emotions and it was odd. It wasn't sadness, or guilt, or anger. It was pity. And somehow it stinged tanjiro, the same way it did years ago.

Senjuro took out some bunch of old papers from the sleeves of his yukata.

Tanjiro's throat felt dry and uneasy. It were a bunch of letters.

All of them looked like they were forgotten for months. The letter envelopes had stained yellow and some even have their edges teared off. But it sure emitted a strong smell. The smell of kyojuro rengoku. Tanjiro's still remembers the distinct hints of his aura. And it somehow still lingered around these letters. Especially the one which was sealed.

“What is it?” asked aoi, finally breaking the deafening silence. A strong gust of wind blew the pink petals along with the letters from senjuro's hand. It's scattered around the mats as all of them tried to collect them.

“Y….y/n?” read nezuko aloud. She hold the sealed letter in her hand as tanjiro extended his palm to grab it. It had tear stains. One side of it had brush marks written ‘to y/n’. The ink has now blurred a bit. But it was still readable.

“What's the meaning of all this?” Tengen asked, grabbing one of the opened letters in his hand. Giyu had hold of one reading in pure shock, while sanemi pondered from the side. Eyes as shocked as giyu’s.

“What happened tengen-sama?” asked makio, seeing all of their disturbed expressions. Zenitsu tried to snatch away the papers from inosuke who was trying to eat it.

“We found these letters from aniki’s room. A lady named y/n had sent those letters to him. An—?”

“And that lady was his lover?” asked giyu.

“What nonsense!”

“He never mentioned any of that to me.” frowned tengen.

“Nor did aniki said anything about it at home. At that time our father didn't pay us any attention. He was drowned totally in despair from the death of our mother. Seeing us only infuriated his anger and sorrow. Aniki would train or be at missions and he was rarely at home. He never told me anything about that….”

‘A letter?’ thought tanjiro. He started sweating all of a sudden. He thought he fulfilled all his wishes but—

“Rengoku san! Please think about yourself, can you stop the bleeding with your breathing technique?” Tanjiro has muttered those words back then, panickingly, devastatingly.

He wanted rengoku to say yes. He wanted him to live beside him, fight beside him, eat beside him. But he didn't get that as an answer.

“No, very soon i'll be dead. Before that happens, i need you to hear me out. I have a younger brother named senjuro. Please tell him to follow his heart. And walk down the path he feels is right.” Rengoku’s face had the same content smile, which warmed their hearts up. He continued, “And tell my father to look after himself…and lastly…”

Rengoku went on and expressed his views on nezuko. It felt like a warm hug. Someone has accepted nezuko. Not because they pitied her but since they saw her true potential and that she was no harm to humans. And now when he remembers it clearly, there was something rengoku whispered before his heart stopped pumping.

It was a faint whisper. So subtle that tanjiro thought it was his ears ringing. But now that he recalls, after he said he trusted them as a slayers, he whispered a few words

“and the lette—”

Rengoku stopped mid sentence as tanjiro kept weeping. He wasn't looking at tanjiro but something behind him. It made him smile as he took his last breath.

“Oni-chan? What happened? Are you okay?” Nezuko pulled tanjiro out of his daze. Everyone was looking at him worriedly. Even sanemi was worried.

“I've not fulfilled rengoku san’s last wishes. I- i haven't. I haven't delivered…how can I be so dumb!!”

“What? Tanjiro san! Calm down! You told us everything aniki wanted to say to us.” Senjuro tried to comfort tanjiro.

“No…before dying he whispered something. I thought my ears were ringing but he did whispered something. It was about a letter.” tanjiro kept on babbling as everyone felt dead silent even senjuro couldn't move his hands.

The sealed letter stayed in tanjiro's hands.

Something that belonged to the girl named y/n.

Something probably dear to kyojuro rengoku.

Some words which were waiting since 3 years.

But…..who is y/n?

The rest of hanami festival gathering went by silent. Senjuro entrusted the letter to tanjiro as per as his request before leaving early since he need to be home before sunset to check upon his father. Murata and urokodaki san accompanied him on the way.

“That's completely ridiculous. None of us have any idea who the fuck this y/n is? how are the fuck are you even planning to find her?” Sanemi spit out bitter words at tanjiro, sitting on the porch, watching the sun slowly turn a deep shade of orange. It reminded him of rengoku’s odd hair colour. It's funny how not only he, but his tsugoku also had weird hair colour— a colour which was dear to Iguro obanai.

Tanjiro lowered his head, smiling a bit. Sanemi changed a lot, even if he speaks harshly, he can only smell pure concern. “But I can't start a new life without paying my debts. Rengoku san saved my life. Whoever lady y/n is….I need to deliver this letter to her.”

“I get what you're saying…but there's no address in any part of the letter. Moreover you are being hesitant on opening it. How do you think you will find her then?” Tengen spoke from the back, alerting the former wind hashira and tanjiro. Both wondered how long he's been eavesdropping them. They expect nothing less. He was a hashira and before that he was a ninja. Even after losing one arm and one eye, he still holds the same power.

“Honestly, I've no idea. But I just can't sit and let it slide.” said tanjiro.

“you’re getting married to kanao next year. Better focus on that. Don't get into useless troubles hanging her off.” sanemi said lazily, yawning and getting up to his feet, stretching a bit. “I will be leaving then. Take care.” Tanjiro didn't reply to him.

Tengen shared a look with sanemi. His eyes shooting a mischievous look filled with pride. Tengen has been in a mission with tanjiro and he knows how stubborn he can be. He knows how pure of a heart he had. And how he even had empathy for demons. He knows sanemi have to surrender infront of him.

Annoyed, sanemi rolled his eyes, “if you're that insistent on finding the girl, then why not refer to kasugai crows. Rengoku's crow might know something about the girl.” He suggested as tengen was in literal awe. He never thought sanemi could ever think logically with his brain. Tanjiro’s head perked up in joy at his idea. Now he finally has a path to look up. Sanemi felt awkward and took his leave, avoiding to look in their eyes.

“Ah! Shinazugawa san! Thanks for the idea!!”

“That brat finally seems to work a bit humane ain't he ?!” A deep laugh bubbled up tengen’s throat.

“I’m happy that he has softened a little now that demons have perished. However, about rengoku san’s kasugai crow, do you know where do I get in contact with it?”

“About that, i would recommend writting letter to kiriya sama. I'm sure he would know.” Tengen patted his head with a reassuring smile.

Soon he took his leave with his wives and giyu, since they were going to an onsen. Basically makio Suma and hinatsuru dragged him along forcefully. Giyu looked a bit tired but he was happy.

Things changed and improved rapidly in a short time. Zenitsu and nezuko got married last year. Murata also got engaged. Tanjiro couldn't help but wonder if the lady named y/n had moved on or not? Will rengoku san be happy if she found someone else? Will he be sad? He looked at nezuko smiling at zenitsu as he played with kiyo, naho and sumi. He looked at inosuke giving his shiniest acorns to aoi. He looked at kanao, smiling delicately, just like shinobu did.

He was happy.

But was the lady named y/n happy in her life?

Kanao looked at him and smiled. She came near him and took his wrinkled hand in hers. “Tanjiro san, you know I would really like you to deliver this letter to y/n san before we start a new life.”

“Even if it takes time?”

“Even if it does. I will wait for you for an eternity.” Tanjiro chuckled as red tints his cheeks. How pure kanao’s heart is? How did he get so lucky to have her in his life? God knows.

“Then I will write a letter to kiriya.”

After a few days, a letter arrived from ubuyashiki's. Along with that two kasugai crows were found circling over the house. Among them one belonged to tanjiro, when he was a demon slayer— tennoji.

The other was the one who accompanied rengoku till his last breath. Kiriya felt sad for rengoku and wrote his kind regards to tanjiro sending the crow to him. His name was kaname.

The crow looked pretty much normal and wasn't as hot -tempered as tennoji.

This was the first time tanjiro had seen him. “Hello, kaname san. Sorry for summoning you all of a sudden. But I wanted to ask you something…” the crow didn't reply, but tilted his head at tanjiro.

“I-ahh- do you know anything about a lady named y/n?”

The crow remained quite for a while, as if reminiscing the days which followed great sorrow. “Master's…y/n sama…master's lover…letters…”

His words were what tanjiro was expecting. Tanjiro finally saw a path clear.

“Can you tell me where she lives?” Asked tanjiro hopefully.

The crow shaked his head,“i don't know.”

Slightly disappointed, tanjiro started asking how she looked. The crow wasn't exactly able to describe her. Accepting his defeat, he asked the crow where he saw her for the first time. Maybe if he goes there, he will be able to find her.

“tokyo…capital…mission..”

the crow wasn't that helpful, they only got to know two things.

First- whoever this y/n is, she was rengoku's lover.

Second- rengoku's crow saw her in tokyo, the capital.

This indicates maybe rengoku and the people who went to the mission in tokyo as said by the crow, if alive, they might know something about it. Tanjiro wrote updates to the others.

A few days later, giyu’s letter came along with some sweets. In that he wrote that rengoku went to tokyo for a battle with lower moon 2 back then. Oyakata sama had assigned him to that mission, before he was a hashira. There were a bunch of people accompanying him, one of them being kanroji mitsuri.

Oh! Mitsuri kanroji was his tsugoku, tanjiro almost forgot about that, he got excited to ask her when reality struck him down. She died after the war. Even if she knew y/n tanjiro couldn't ask her.

He continued reading the letter from giyu as the path which formed in his mind started getting blurry.

Upon hearing from tanjiro, kanao dropped by at the kamado’s. She said she might have one way to get to know about y/n. Tanjiro's eyes perked up at kanao’s remark, which almost made kanao’s heart jolt since he was so cute.

Kanao explained, when shinobu was alive, she had once told her that mitsuri was close to a kakushi couple. She further said that mitsuri used to write letters to them about her missions on a regular basis. Those two even came to congratulate her when she was promoted to hashira. She said it was nice to see that a girl around her age so lively.

Tanjiro wrote a letter to kiriya again. And next week when tanjiro went out with inosuke to sell some charcoal in the city, a couple came to visit them.

Nezuko welcomed them, while zenitsu narrowed his eyes on them, especially upon the male.

When tanjiro returned home he was delighted to find the kakushi couple still waiting for him. They didn't hide their faces anymore. Dressed normally as regular citizens. Honestly they were pretty young, and tanjiro admired how they served the corps group keeping them intact.

“I'm so glad you both came.” Tanjiro bowed infront of them in gratitude.

“Oh no, that's completely fine. We are happy to be of any help. Oyakata sama said you wanted to know about mitsuri.” said the woman.

“Ahh not exactly about her, but for instance, do you have any idea if she ever mentioned a name called ‘y/n’?” tanjiro said pulling inosuke back beside him as he kept munching on the snacks for the guests. The guy gave him a creeped stare as he focused back on tanjiro's words.

“y/n? No I don't think so….she ever mentioned that name. Did she tanaka san?” The woman said.

Tanjiro felt anxious as the guy named tanaka tilted his head to think a bit.

“Nope I don't think she did.”, he clarified.

“Oh….” Tanjiro's voice was barely a whisper, that even inosuke sat straight checking if he's alright.

“Is there something else we can do, tanjiro kun? You look upset.”

“No no…it's fine. I was just trying to deliver a letter to rengoku san's love—”

“Rengoku san? Kanroji san’s master ain't it?” Tanaka spoke before tanjiro could finish his sentence.

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god? The one whom rengoku san loves was y/n?”

“You guys know her?” Hope shined bright in tanjiro's eyes. So did a fervent fear. Fear of disappointment. Fear of not being able to pay his debts. Fear of not fulfilling rengoku san's last wish.

“We didn't know about her name but kanroji san used to tell us about her…isn't it shimi san?” The guy turned to his wife with a fuzzy smile on his face.

“Yeah, she seemed so happy, wanting to have a love like them.” Said the wife.

And for the first time till now tanjiro wasn't let down. “Really? Did she lived in tokyo? Rengoku san's crow said he saw her for the first time during a mission.”

“A mission? No.” The wife let out a chuckle, “it started way before that. Kanroji san said….. ”

“Ahh! Master! Can we please have a break! I'm tired from hitting the sword, my limbs are sore.” Mitsuri cried barely holding another strike from her master.

“Haha you got tired this fast, we haven't even started.” the blazing hair resembling fire, moved swiftly as the guy attempted another strike on mitsuri, but thanks to a call outside, he stopped midway.

“Wait a bit, I will be back in a while.” Said kyojuro rengoku, her master. ‘i will be happy if you don't come back for a while.’ she thought as she collapsed on her knees, to exhausted to move.

“Ahh senjuro kun! Bring me some snacks please!!!” She shouted hoping for the little kid to hear.

A bit later, rengoku comes back. Senjuro looked at his elder brother, frowning while holding a letter. Mitsuri sat beside senjuro, who brought her some onigiris.

“What's that master?” She asked, stuffing another onigiri in her mouth.

“Even I'm confused. It's a letter but it wasn't delivered by a kasugai crow but by a postman.”

“Huh? Maybe it's from some neighbour wanting to lower your voice while eating.” Senjuro said shrugged off his shoulders as mitsuri suppress her laugh bubbling on her throat, almost choking on rice. It wasn't an irregular thing that neighbors anonymously complained about kyojuro shouting ‘umai’ every time he ate.

“Open it.” Said senjuro, curious what type of sarcastic words they might have chosen now.

Kyojuro did as his little brother requested. However kyojuro didn't reacted after reading the letter.

“Today's practice is over. You can relax.” He, then ordered senjuro to boil him some bathwater, shooing him away.

Senjuro obeyed his brother, while mitsuri felt kinda odd, yet she was happy to have a day off.

As soon as both of them left the backyard, rengoku blushed like crazy. The letter was still in his hand as he tried to digest the words.

“A love lett—” a big palm shut mitsuri’s mouth, preventing her from shouting. Yet she was squealing. “I thought you left! You've gotten quite quick in sly footing didn't ya? I'm impressed.” He finally removed his hand from mitsuri's mouth.

“Ofcourse you made me practice for 23 hours without sleep. Anyways, what's written in that?”

“Do you want me to make you practice for 2 days straight?”

“Naah I'm fine! But master, I'm happy.”

“Okay.”

“And curious too. Please let me read it.”

“No!”

After shooing mitsuri out of the backyard he tucked the letter in his sleeves. This letter was sure weird.

“Rengoku san thought that she didn't read the letter, but she had a strong memory and could remember each word after seeing it once. She was so excited telling us about that.” said the wife, looking outside the window at the moon.

The flame of the lantern flickered a bit. “So that might mean that the letter should be among those papers…”

“Woah zenitsu! I thought you were asleep?!”

“How am I supposed to sleep if you're talking that loudly idiot!”

Yeah the paper. There were a lot of papers. Some were smudged and unreadable, so they didn't read all of them. Tanjiro went over their cupboard and brought the bunch of papers.

“Can you identify the letter among them?” He asked the guy to inspect. The couple looked at each other. “Maybe we can try but the writings aren't clear.”

“Please if you can. I need to deliver that letter.” tanjiro bowed his head down begging to the couple.

“You're a nice kid, Tanjiro kun. We will surely help you.”

It's been more than twenty minutes since they are reading each and every paper. Inosuke got bored and slept on the tatami mats. Nezuko was already asleep so they didn't wanted to bother her.

“Yeah maybe this one. From what Kanroji san had explained, this seems to be the one.” The guy tanaka handed the delicate piece of paper to tanjiro.

“However, in each of these letters, she referred herself as his wife…I didn't know he was married…?”

“Huh?” Tanjiro frowned upon the man's words. ‘what?’ he checked the letters again. And the guy was right, y/n did refer herself as his wife. They didn't read the papers as carefully since they were long, they just assumed she was his lover. But rengoku san wasn't the one to hide such crucial information.

Tanjiro was confused, they were so focused on finding the address of y/n that they ignored reading the letters, which could provide information about her.

Tanjiro spent the entire night reading each word carefully. Fingers running across elegant handwriting and smudged ink. As he kept reading those with a pain in his heart. There were in total 7 of those letters, which were written to rengoku. And the one which tanjiro kept seemingly in care— the sealed one; one which has a strong smell of rengoku’s aura; one with tear stains.

The couple spent the night in their house and left the next morning after breakfast.

This helped but not that much. However the path had become clearer.

He knew that the girl was from a nice family who had hands in education from the curves in each characters of her words.

Second, she had mentioned that he had saved her and her friends from a fire, in yokaichi.

“I'm leaving for yokaichi.” Said tanjiro during breakfast.

“Eh? Oni- chan?”

“Don't worry nezuko, oni-chan will be back soon.”

“I will also go!” Said inosuke, “inosuke-sama will protect kamaboko gonpachiro, his minon from any harm.”

Tanjiro chuckled at how inosuke shows his care for him, “fine then.”

“Zenitsu san you also go with them…”

“Ehh, but nezuko chan won't you be lonely without me? I know you will be lonely without m—”

“I won't. You guys will be back soon. Till then I will be at butterfly mansion.”

“B-but nezuko channn!!!!” Inosuke dragged him away as nezuko watched the poor soul. She felt bad but she wanted him to be with her brother. She just felt that the three of them should go together.

The three of them finally reached yokaichi town. It was small but quite dense in population. Tanjiro felt that this was an advantage for them since they stories and folks might spread fast in a vast social surroundings.

“Inosuke, zenitsu let's ask the older citizens first, since they might be living here for a while, they must have known about any fire incidents.”

“I was about to say the same thing as you.” Snorted the board masked guy rushing off in the east direction. Zenitsu simply nodded and went in the opposite direction, sulking. He has been giving tanjiro silent treatment since he had to leave nezuko alone.

Tanjiro sighed as he started finding old citizens nearby asking about a fire incident.

After asking a few of them, he sighed, it didn't really do any help, since many weren't able to hear and some weren't able to remember. When he asked the youngsters, they ran away seeing his old crippled hand.

Tanjiro, let down, returned to the spot where they had started searching. Inosuke was already there tapping his feet as he was waiting for the others.

“Did you find anything?” Asked tanjiro.

“Nahh! They were mere cowards. Running way from me. Though I liked it! Everyone should fear the great inosuke sama.” As expected from inosuke, zenitsu was yet to return. Both of them decided to wait till he comes back.

After a while, zenitsu came back. His sulking still hasn't tailed off. “Ahh zenitsu! Did you find anything? You took so long!!”

Zenitsu didn't reply.

He stared at him with dead eyes.

Oh god! Zenitsu’s moody phases are the worst, especially if it's an urgent task. The whining and sulking from a few years ago flashed in front of tanjiro’s eyes.

“You turned mute or what?” said inosuke, already having enough of zenitsu’s tantrums.

But the only reply that came from the blonde was an eye roll. Inosuke got pissed, ready to throw hands at him if not stopped by tanjiro.

“Zenitsu, I will get nezuko chan make sweet washagis for you when we get back home.”

“Really!! You better do that. I can't even explain how much I've missed my dear wife nezuko chan. She must be so lonely without me.” Babbled zenitsu, finally speaking for the first time till they left home.

“She won't.”

“Stop making snarky comments you stupid boar head. What do you even know about pure love between me and nezuko chan?!!!”

“Ahh zenitsu! Did you get to know anything?”

Zenitsu considered tanjiro a while, before giving in, “At the very west of this town, there's an inn. People said it almost burned down about four years ago…I looked for its owner but they said he will be back late.”

Tanjiro let out a breath. If that's the case, then the owner might remember the incident clearly. If only he could provide any useful information.

“Btw do you really believe whoever this y/n is…she's still alive?” Zenitsu scratched the back of his neck, shooing away the mosquitos ready to feed upon his blood. It's been long three of them are waiting in front of the inn for its owner to arrive.

“Let's just not lose hope.” The inn did looked like it suffered severe consequences from whatever happened 4 years ago. Most of it has been repaired but the aura and the smell can still be recognised. There are still some wooden planks with burn marks which are yet to be repaired.

“May I ask who you three are?”

A chilly voice turned their attention. There stood a thin, frail boy, barely an adult. His eyes were small with hair falling down on his brows. He speculated about them with a suspicious look in his eyes(especially on the boat masked guy). Was he the owner? He looked too young for that.

“Ahh good evening! I'm tan—”

“If you're wanting to stay the night, go somewhere else, I'm not opening the inn today.” He replied coldly before tanjiro could even introduce himself.

“Ahh no, you're misunderstanding…. actually we are here to ask you something about the incident four years ago…”

The look on the boy’s face changed from suspicion to disgust.

“Well…I don't wanna talk about it. You guys can leave.”

“No please, at least hear our questions. It's really important.”

“As if I care.”

“Hey fucker! If you don't answer I'll break each and every bone in your body.”

“Stop it inosuke!” This isn't going any better. It's almost night, they also need to find a place to stay.

“tanjiro can you move aside a bit” said zenitsu, without waiting for his reply, he went to the kid. Apparently he whispered something in his ears which seemed to have creeped the guy out.

Tanjiro gulped. He must be desperate to go home and see nezuko. Sometimes he forgets that their coward friend can be hell scary when it comes to nezuko.

“Okay. He's ready to spill anything he knows.” The look on the kids face made it clear he didn't wanted to recall anything about that incident. However tanjiro had no choice but to push him off the edge.

“Hey I'm sorry if we're causing you any trouble, but you know we really need to know anything you know about a girl named y/n.”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah. Heard it before?”

“No. There were none with this name.”

“Eh? Can you try to recall. There must be someone. A girl who was saved by rengoku san. A guy whose hair was similar to fire.”

“Kyojuro rengoku you mean? He pretty much saved everyone. The inn you see here, is small. Before the incident also it was small and not that popular. Only a few people stayed here occasionally. So I can be sure there was no one named y/n.”

An ‘oh’ is just what tanjiro could manage. The boy got inside the house behind the inn. The night fell and they were still in the same position as before.

Inosuke was throwing tantrums in hunger, so they decided to go to an udon shop nearby. Perhaps they should not lose hope. Thinking empty stomach is not always the best option. This they were sitting in the shop waiting for their order to come.

“But she did mention in those letters that she was saved by him. How come the owner doesn't know anything about that?”

“I already told you we should have broken his bones, monjiro.”

“I think it's useless, let's just go back home to my nezuko chan.”

“Zenitsu! What if you were in place of rengoku san? Would you be happy if your last words don't reach nezuko?” zenitsu went silent at that.

They stayed silent till three bowls of hot udon were placed infront of them. Tanjiro and zenitsu thanked the server for the food whereas inosuke just shoved his head into the hot udon bowl. “You guys seem a bit tense, is everything okay? Asked the old man, the owner of the udon restaurant.

“Yeah we're just a bit disappointed.” Said tanjiro. “Haha and why so? Got rejected by a girl? Can't blame her, it's your hand.” The old man pointed at tanjiro's crippled hand. “What happened that's it's such in a bad condition?”

“Oh! It's…from…from a fight.” Tanjiro smiled, it's hard to offend him anyway,“ i already have a fiance and we are getting married soon.”

“Oh my god! Please forgive my mean words then. I wish you both happiness.”

“Thank you.”

“Then why pull a sad face. My udon tastes the best when you eat it with a good mood, ya know?!”

“Haha, I'm sure it will still taste good. Actually we were here wanting to acquire some information about the fire incident 4 years ago.”

“Oh that was such a bad one. If there wasn't that guy everyone would have lost their life…”

“Rengoku san? You mean?” Tanjiro's eyes perked up. “I see, you know kyojuro. Yeah, that boy was a regular in my shop. Although it's been more than three years since he last visited, i wonder how he's doing? Tell him to visit once, the old man misses him.” the man bursted in laughter while the three of them couldn't even managed to smile even once.

How are they even supposed to tell him, tell him that, “rengoku san died three years ago while saving us from…” zenitsu's voice trailed down into nothingness. So did the old man's. They didn't knew if he's aware about demons so they didn't exaggerated it anymore.

No one spoke for a while.

“I see. What did you guys want to know then? I'm sure you were close to him if he gave up on his life for you all…”

“do you know anyone named y/n? I need to deliver this letter to her.” tanjiro took out the yellow stained letter and handed it to the old man, who squinted his eyes on the writings, drawing a wrinkled finger tracing it's shapes.

“Y…y/n…..yeah she asked me to send some letters to his residence. The kid was young and beautiful.” he returned the letter back to tanjiro.

“She did?!”

“Yeah…that kid almost begged me to not tell kyojuro anything about that.”

The three of them looked at each other. “Can you tell us more about her?” “Do you know where she lives?” “Can I get a refill?” The three of them threw questions at the old man's face, whose lips creaked a bit. “Hmm, I don't know where she lives but I can tell you about her.” He said taking inosuke’s bowl to the counter for another refill.

The restaurant was almost empty so they went and sat on the round seats opposite of the counter.

“It was about four years ago when she appeared in my shop after kyojuro left….”

“umm excuse me…” you said

“Yeah young lady, what would you prefer?” asked the owner pointing at the chart hung on the wall which displayed all the items on the menu.

“I will take a hot tempura udon please.” said the girl beside you.

“And you miss?” The owner directed the question towards you. “Umm I will take anything you prefer.” “Ehh is that so? Fine, I'll make you the tastiest bowl of my special udon.”

“Just tell already…!” The girl beside you whispered into your ear, which was audible to the owner, he chuckled a bit. “Can you shut up….!!”

“I will if you say it…!”

“Okay fine!”

“Umm…if you don't mind, is there any way you can ask the address of the man who just left a while ago?” you asked hesitantly, fiddling with your fingers.

“Kyojuro you mean? I already know his residence, he made me deliver udon to his place before.” the owner said trying to keep his composure, young kids are just so bold nowadays.

“Is that so?” your eyes shined dreamily.

“Why harbored a crush on the man you saw a few mins ago? Hahaha!!” you felt blood rush to your cheeks as you couldn't find words to answer his question.

“She wants to thank him for saving her.” said the girl beside you. “Atsuko!” Atsuko just gave a smirk, ignoring how she threw you in such humiliation.

“Ah…if you don't mind then can you please deliver this letter to him anonymously. Don't tell him I asked you to send it. Please…I can pay you for that..”

“I don't need any payment. I will do that. You can just come and enjoy my special udon sometimes.” the owner accepted the letter from your hands, tucking it in his sleeves. “And maybe watch that man you talked about…he comes here around weekends.” The man hinted you the place which kyojuro normal has his lunch. And if you weren't blushing any harder, you felt your entire face burn with embarrassment. But you want to do it anyway.

Atsuko giggled beside you excited to see what happens next.

“So you delivered the letters in her stead?” asked zenitsu.

“Yeah…she kept coming back with letters for a good six months, if i remember correctly. Maybe kyojuro replied to them…”

It fell silent for a while. The only sound echoing was of inosuke slurping on the noodles.

“So, while you delivered letters rengoku san didn't knew her?” The guy with red eyes pointed the question at the owner.

“No i don't think so, she never came when he used to visit, that is, the weekends.”

“Can you tell us what was the name of her friend again?”

“Atsuko…if I remember correctly..”

“Can you describe how she looked?”

“Ehh? I can't really remember people's faces clearly, but she was very beautiful, big eyes with a nice soft skin. Her hair was long and dark. She had a soft voice. She looked like she belonged from a privileged family. So did her friend.”

“Oh is there anything specific you remember about her?”

“Hmm…let me think…if I'm not wrong rengoku once mentioned her name to a boy who tagged along with him. If you go to him i believe he could provide you some answers.”

“Really? Who was he?”

“His name was….daisuke I guess. He used to wear a similar black sort of uniform like kyojuro.”

After finishing their meal, tanjiro payed for everyone and thanked the old man for all that information. They went to a nearby inn and spent the night.

Tanjiro wrote some letters updating each one of their current status. And he sent a crow to kiriya requesting him to take a look if there's any former slayer named Daisuke and used to frequent his missions with rengoku.

The next day around afternoon, tennoji returned from ubuyashiki's. He said there was indeed a slayer named Daisuke. He had suffered severe injuries from the war and now lives in his village.

As directed by tennoji, tanjiro's crow, they went to the south east from their current position. After two days and one night of sleeping in the jungle without the fear of demons, a village appeared. It wasn't that populated. After asking a few kids, they showed the path which led to Daisuke’s hut.

“Umm excuse me? Daisuke san?”

“Yes, wh— ta…tanjiro….aren't you tanjiro?” the guy said, he was blind from one eye similar to tanjiro, with a missing arm and a limp leg. Tanjiro felt sorry for him.

“Yes, they are inosuke and zenitsu. Sorry for being a bother….”

“Oh no please come inside. I will get tea for you…” he said excited.

“Oh, you don't have to. It's fine. Actually we wanted to ask something….”

“Yeah? Please come in. I will surely help you as much as possible.”

They entered the hut and sat on the tatami mats. Even after pleading not to bring any snacks, Daisuke brought some rice crackers for them.

“Please have them.”

“You didn't have to.”

“Oh it's nothing. Now what did you wanted to ask about?”

“It's about y/n.” Tanjiro said as the rest simply focused on rice crackers. A hint of familiarity glistened in Daisuke's eyes. “Y/n? You mean the one rengoku san was madly in love with?”

Madly in love with? Tanjiro felt a pinch in his heart. Rengoku san must have adored you. The sealed letter had tear stains. Did rengoku cried while writing that?

“Ah…yeah…I need to deliver this letter to y/n but I don't know where she lives. Did rengoku san ever mentioned where she lived?”

“A letter? Why sent a letter when he was so adamant about that?”

“Adamant?”

“Yeah…he said that the pages limited his words to her. He was so desperate wanting to see her that he spent like 2 weeks searching for her without taking rest after his missions.”

“Seriously? So how are you supposed to recover from those injuries?” Daisuke said to his senior with an exasperated expression.

“It will heal when I get to see her face.” Said rengoku, bandaging the cut from a demon's blood arts whom he just killed.

“You're gonna exhaust yourself from build up fatigue.” The sun rays kissed the soil painted in crimson from the shedded blood.

“I will be fine. You go and take rest.”

“I can't believe you're going to find the creepy girl sending you creepy letters claiming herself as your wife.” Daisuke let you a sigh at rengoku's stubborness.

“In that case I gotta meet my wife.” Rengoku's laughter echoed among the vast field.

It still echoed in Daisuke's memories.

“So rengoku wasn't married…?”

“Naah. Honestly I think, after rengoku san’s mother died, he had faced severe neglect from his father. He was the oldest son of the family, so he had to be strong for his sibling. But sometimes we forget, even the strong needs someone to back for them. Even they need some kind words to let go all their tiredness and have a tight sleep. Even they need someone who assured them that they have a bright future…”

That's right. Tanjiro had seen how shinjuro, rengoku san's father, disrespected his sacrifice. He was so lost and depressed in his wife's loss that he forgot about the ones who need the most care— his kids.

Daisuke continued, “when the letter came from y/n, rengoku san must have read comforting words for the first time since that. He used to reread those letters a thousand times when he was free. Sometimes I wondered if he ever got bored doing that…but I knew he didn't. A starved man will eat anything. And I knew he was emotionally starving.”

Zenitsu and inosuke stopped eating rice crackers. Rengoku's death solely hurted them as much as it did to tanjiro, but they never thought it was that deep. That it was something beyond his life as a demon slayer.

Zenitsu could relate. After all he was an orphan. And rengoku was too, being in a situation similar to him, where his only parent was emotionally unavailable for him. He felt sorry for him.

No one dared to say anything. The silence was piercing their hearts like splinters of iron.

“Fun fact was that he did find her,” Daisuke chorted a bit before continuing, “and he literally begged her to marry him…”

Rengoku searched from cabin to cabin in the steam train. In the last letter you mentioned you were going to aomori to visit your relatives by train.

After a bit of negotiation he learned that there was only one train which was going to stop at aomori. This is how he ended up buying tickets at the last moment getting in the train, to find you.

He hasn't seen you before. He wondered how you would look. Even more beautiful and kind than your letters. Even more beautiful than the slight hooks of the curved kanjis you had written his name. Even more beautiful than the blazing sun.

He had checked almost the entire train. The content smile on his face has now thinned into pursed lips. He was nervous. What if he fails to find you? What if he never gets to find you? What if he never gets to see your face?

What if he didn't recognise you?

He flashed all the passengers in his head before lowering his head. None of them carried the same demeanor your letters did. He couldn't imagine any one of them being you.

He entered the last cabin. It was empty. However this cabin seemed a bit different. It had a narrow passage on the right with doors while the opposite side had small rooms. It seemed private. One previously booked by someone.

Rengoku turned back to return to his cabin when the door beside him shot open.

Inside was a girl, who seemed to have frozen for a while.

“Y/n?”

The girl’s eyes widened at the name which left rengoku's lips. She shut the door close, but it didn't closed, something was blocking it. The girl looked down, realizing rengoku had slipped his feet in to prevent her from doing that.

He barged the door open. “Y/n right?”

The girl remained silent for some time.

“I apologize to you with all my might rengoku san. Please forgive my intrusiveness.” you said, lowering your head, nervous at the sudden appearance of him.

“God you're even more beautiful than I thought…” you shoot your head up only to see him looking with such dreamy eyes at you as if you're the only thing he's ever wanted to look at. And it made your stomach churn. Guilt rushed in each of your veins.

“Rengoku san, i shouldn't have wrote those letters to you.” You say. Your friend had warned you before. You didn't listen.

“Why?” He took a step closer.

You gulped before answering,“i wrote nonsense, pretending to be your wife I'm very sorry yo—”

“Then don't pretend anymore.”

“Huh?”

“Be my wife.” Rengoku suggested. His face now inches away from yours.

“And then she ran away?” Said daisuke, barely containing his laugh.

“Yeah…did I do something wrong?” Rengoku said with visible confusion plastered on his face. It was rare to see any expression other than his smiling face.

“Of course she would run away.”

“and why so?”

“Rengoku san, a girl thinks about her future first after marriage. She knows nothing about you.”

“But she wrote me lett—”

“Which you didn't answered….since you thought you couldn't fit your words in papers.” Rengoku couldn't say anything in his defense. It was true rengoku never replied to any of your letters. When he received the first one he thought someone was pranking him. But then the letters came continuously, one each month. He slowly fell in love with those. He fell in love with your letters. And somehow, he fell in love with you.

“Then what do I do?”

“Be honest, tell her about your salary and your job, tel her you can take care of her needs.”

“Yeah? Kk I'm going then…”

Rengoku stood at the aomori station waiting for you to get on the train for your return. Upon spotting you, he called out for you. The train had a delay and he had a good 1 hour to make things clear.

“Eh? R-rengoku san!”

“I work in demon slayer corps. And currently I'm in the highest rank which is kinoe. I get a decent salary of 42,500 yen. I live with my younger brother and father. My mother died a few years ago from illness. I spend my day training, slaying demons and rereading your letters,” guilt rushed through your veins again. “I promise, I will fulfill all your needs and treat you like my queen.”

“rengoku san...”

“sorry i didn't replied to any of those, I just couldn't express myself much in writing. If possible I would like to crawl into a hole. However you don't need to worry. I will make sure that I keep you happy.”

You frowned at his words, unable to explain him. How could you do that to him?

“Y/n san, let's make the words on the letters true. Let's be husband and wife. I know that I work in an organization that isn't approved by governm—”

“Rengoku san, shall we walk while talking? We are blocking the road.” you change the topic, not wanting to talk about it.

“Sure.”

Rengoku continued telling you everything…everything about him. From his childhood till his mother's death. From his father's neglect, to his way up to kinoe, from his sword to the number of demons he slayed. You didn't believe in demons before, but now that rengoku tells you about this, demon folks is something you want to believe. You wanted to believe in everything he said. Even if he's telling the dumbest thing, far from reality, you wanted to believe it.

“Y/n san! Look here!” You turn back to rengoku.

Click.

“And did she said yes?”

“Maybe. He didn't mention her answer. He was so happy that finally he met her.”

“You must have seen her then…can you tell us how she looked?”

“I think I might have a photo of her. Rengoku san, asked to recieve a photo delivery, since he had a mission from the previous oyakata sama.” Daisuke got up limping to the one of the backrooms of his hut. He returned a few minutes later, handling a black and white photo to tanjiro.

Inosuke and zenitsu peeped from the sides to take a look at the long awaited moment, when they finally get to see y/n.

The photo was black and white, but tanjiro felt it was still colorful to rengoku san. In the photo there was a girl, young, with long beautiful hair, in a loose braid. She wore a flower hair ornament, which must have shone in gold back then. She was just how the udon owner described her, big doe eyes, pretty mouth, she looked educated. She was dressed in a floral patterned kimono. Zenitsu wondered what sort of colour the kimono would have been. He wondered if he could get a similar one for nezuko as a souvenir.

The girl was beautiful. Inosuke thought, she had similar smile to shinobu, he wondered if his mom’s smile was like that.

The girl's reflection reflected in several mirrors behind her, and one of the mirror had caught the reflection of the one clicking the photo— kyojuro rengoku.

“The last I heard from rengoku san, he said she wanted to meet him before taking the mugen train mission. He seemed happy, maybe she agreed eventually to marry him….if only he didn't…” Daisuke didn't finished the sentence, considering his surroundings.

They sit in deafening silence for a bit.

A bit later tanjiro thanked Daisuke for the rice crackers and his help. He asked if it were okay to take the photo with him. Daisuke had no problem with that. After bidding farewell they continued their journey, unsure what to do next.

After two days of staying at an inn, cluelessly with no idea how to find y/n, inosuke suggests to go to the station from where they got on mugen train.

“If we go to that lord's land and ask the people over there and show this painting of this long haired girl, then some might recognize her.” He had said.

“First of all that's a train station, second it's a photo. How can you still be the same stupid even after 3 years?” zenitsu cringed hard.

“wha—”

“Inosuke’s right zenitsu, we should go there and ask the people over there.” tanjiro said halting the cat and mouse fight which was about to start between the two.

Daisuke had said rengoku was about to meet her before the mission, which means before getting on the mugen train. Even if it is difficult, some locals must have seen even one glance of her.

The next morning, as per inosuke's idea, three of them left for the station.

“Umm excuse me…” said tanjiro, forwarding the photo in front of the local he stopped on his way, “can you tell me if you've seen this girl?”

The man gave a disgusted look at tanjiro. “no I haven't.”

“Ehh? Are you sure you haven—”

“I don't have time for bullshit.” He went off ignoring tanjiro. Strange. People here are less friendly, some even get irritated if stopped on their way.

It's almost lunch time, zenitsu and inosuke had tried to stop the locals as tanjiro asked them about you. It was clear that this ain't ending soon. Especially when they've got nothing good in hand.

“Let's go buy something to eat.”

“YEAH! I'M HECK HUNGRY!!”

“I saw a kid wearing glasses, selling bentos…let's buy some then…she went in that direction.”

Upon seeing the kid, tanjiro asked her to give them three boxes of bentos. It seemed similar to the ones they had three years ago. The girl was about to leave after receiving her payment, but tanjiro's instinct told him to stop her.

“Wait!” The girl turned back to him as zenitsu and inosuke watched him, confused. Tanjiro put his hand inside the sleeves of yukata, taking out the only photo they had of you.

“Have you ever seen this girl around here?”

The girl squinted her eyes behind the round glass frames,“y/n san! Isn't she y/n san…”

Zenitsu’s eyes popped out, he wondered if tanjiro's a mind reader or something, how can he be so quick?

“Yes! You know her? Can you tell us where she lives?” Tanjiro asked desperately.

“She never mentioned that to us…” the girl said frowning her eyebrows.

“Oh…how did you know her then?”

“Well, a demon slayer who saved us three years ago, requested…”

You waited for kyojuro to come. The sun shone brightly above you. The empty roadway started getting crowdy. You've had enough.

“Y/n san. You wanted to see me?” kyojuro had become a hashira now, and amongst his tight schedule he barely had time for you. It's not like you were disappointed, but still…you and kyojuro often talked through phone booths, after you've suggested that casually one day while strolling with him. Last week when he called you, after what felt like years, you said you wanted to meet him soon. ‘fine meet me at the near hinakawa station, I will be waiting.’ he'd said.

Though it was you, waiting for him to come. You've felt distant from him. And you didn't like it.

“I ran away.” You announced looking in his honey drizzled eyes. Though you aren't sure if it were your overthinking but those eyes seemed a bit dull today.

Kyojuro didn't say anything, maybe confused how to interpret your words.

“my family's against us. And I'm against them. I left the old relations to form a new one. With whom I love. Let's get married.” You said taking his hand in yours.

Kyojuro said nothing but wrapped you in his arms. You hugged him tighter, never wanting to let go. “I'm not alone anymore.” He said before nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck.

Yes. You've always wanted to hear these words from his lips. You've wanted to let him know that he's not alone even when he thinks he is. You wanted him to know that there's someone who will always support him even if he's father thinks he has no talent. This was the reason you wrote him letters in first place. This was the reason you let yourself get tangled in a world far different from yours— in the world of kyojuro rengoku.

He left soon saying he will be back after completing a mission. He said he will send someone to you and asked you to wait for him till then. And you agreed gladly. About half an hour later a girl wearing round steel rimmed glasses along with her grandmother appeared.

“Y/n?” You nodded your head at them. “Rengoku sama asked us to keep you safe till he gets back. If you don't mind then you can come home with us.”

You got to know from the grandmother, how the rengokus had saved their lives two times. You've never seen kyojuro fight, but you knew he was hella strong. Still your heart sinks into your stomach whenever he mentions a mission. You've never encountered demons, once you didn't even believed in them, and now here you are nodding at each of those demon tales of the grandmother.

It didn't mattered anyway as long as he comes back safe. You have to wait for a while for him to comeback….after all you weren't done….you still had an important thing to say.

“Then?”

“Then days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, the slayer never made its return. She left eventually, thanking us. We told her to wait for a while more…but she was too stubborn.” said the girl, fixing her specks again.

Tanjiro couldn't believe what he heard. Rengoku had so many things going on in his life. He had more priorities than him and his friends. Someone who was more important. Someone who left her entire family for him.

Yet.

And yet.

He chose to save them sacrificing himself.

He wondered if the you hate him now.

Zenitsu and inosuke were too stunned to speak. All of them were on the verge of crying. To think…that he couldn't return because of them. To think that they played a role in ruining you happiness. That he died saving them.

“She said she was going to asakusa at her friend’s house, named atsuko.”

Tanjiro bowed at the girl, he couldn't manage thanking her, since he knew if he draws one more breath trying to talk, he would break down right there.

The three of them took a train to asakusa after eating those bentos. They looked similar because rengoku had bought the same boxes from that bento girl 3 years ago.

Inosuke was oddly quiet inside the train. The other two also barely chatted before reaching their destination.

Tanjiro had visited asakusa before and he didn't liked that experience very much. Especially the narrow lanes. This time the city looked more developed than before. And it was more crowdy too. They made their way as the girl has previously informed, that atsuko works as a teacher in a big school for aristocrats.

Coincidentally, tanjiro found the same vendor from his last visit. Back then nezuko wasn't able to savor his ramens since she was a demon. He wished he brought her along. They ordered a steaming bowl of ramen, as the vendor was delighted seeing tanjiro again.

“Where that bamboo girl you carried along with you?”

“She's at home right now.”

“Don't give my wife stupid Nicknames.” ,shouted the blonde at the vendor. Tanjiro apologized in his stead as he kept fuming. “So why are you three here all of a sudden? It's been long ain't it?”

“Yeah we're looking for a girl named y/n. She has a friend who teaches in a big school named atsuko.”

“Y/n never heard that sort of peculiar name…”

“are there any big schools in this area, where aristocrats study?”

“Umm…there are a lot of big schools, you could go and ask at the library. There's only one library here and all the school students or teachers borrow books from there. They must know something about that.”

“Oh really! Thankyou very much.”

Without any further do, the three of them went to the public library after eating.

“Woah this is so big.” Tanjiro said.

“It has so many books shall I borrow some for nezuko chan” zenitsu got lost in his dream world. Inosuke was quite whenever he gets in a new environment with a lots of people, so tanjiro didn't bother checking at him.

However, inosuke tugged on tanjiro's yukata pointing at something with his boar mask tugged on his head. Tanjiro could see his eyes popping out.

“What happened tanji—” zenitsu choked on his spit. Tanjiro’s jaw dropped, his mouth open wide. Inosuke was pointing at a picture hung on the wall. Tanjiro took out the photo hurriedly from his sleeves.

There's no mistake. This was indeed the same girl. Underneath the painting was written ‘princess akiko’ in bold letters carved carefully on metal.

“But isn't her name y/n?” Said zenitsu. What's going on? Before tanjiro could say anything, a woman in her twenties bumped into them while rushing.

The photo slipped out from tanjiro’s fingers.

“I'm so sorr—” the women's words halted as she looked at the photo lying on the ground in front of her. She picked it up before tanjiro could.

“Where did you get this picture from?” She asked as if it were a taboo to have this.

“Ahh you know y/n?”

“Y/n?”

“She looks similar to the girl in that painting” the boy with the boar mask declared.

“For the hundredth time inosuke it's a photo.” said zenitsu.

“She doesn't looks like her. She is her. She is princess akiko. The youngest daughter of the imperial family.”

What?

Three of them couldn't believe their ears. “But her name is y/n…” whispered tanjiro in a low voice.

“Just who are you?” She looked at the picture carefully, as if hiding it from the world, “isn't this rengoku?”

“You know rengoku san?”

“That's the man who saved us from a fire incident in an old town. And then became the main reason of the storms in akiko’s life.”

Tanjiro's eyes widened at the mention of the fire incident “Are you atsuko?”

The women nodded, surprised they know her name. Tanjiro, then explained the whole matter.

“I see.”

“This isn't right akiko…you shouldn't have continued writing letters to him in first place.” Atsuko said trying to persuade her not to run away.

“I can't. I can't live here. They will never accept him. And I can't live without him.”

“Akiko, try to understand…rengoku loves y/n.”

“And i am y/n!” The sound of the rain pouring down increased.

“You are princess akiko. Y/n is just a fake name, you created to hide your real identity when decided to write him letters. I supported you then since i thought it was a one time thing.” Atsuko shook the girl's shoulders trying to bring her to the path she considered right.

“But I don't wanna be akiko. I wanna be y/n…y/n rengoku.” Tears fell from the eyes in front of her as sobs escaped her lips.

“You're playing with rengoku’s feelings. Even if you run away, how do you intend to tell him the truth? You can't pretend to be y/n your entire life akiko.”

The girl didn't answered atsuko. That day slowly came to an end along with the rain. And Akiko did run away to rengoku, away from her pointless life, being a puppet in her family's hands.

“She returned a month after she ran away. When I asked him about rengoku she said nothing. Soon her brother came and took her away.” Whispered atsuko in a voice so doleful, that it was clear, it hurted.

“Did rengoku san knew she was a princess?” Zenitsu asked.

“He probably didn't. Akiko's family arranged several politicians later to set her up but she caused such a ruckus that her family gave up at last.”

“Do you know where she is now…i need to deliver this letter to her.” Each word tasted like bile to him. He couldn't even imagine how miserable it had been. You literally rejected a crystal palace only to live a normal life with him. Which didn't even come true. How feverishly would it have hurt? How apathetic fate was…

“She lives in osaka, running an orphanage. You would find her there. Shall I get someone two drive you three over there?”

“That will be very thoughtful of you” said tanjiro.

Atsuko arranged a driver, who would drive them to the orphanage, they expect to find you in. The car ride was even more silent than the train one. Inosuke, even, didn't make any fuss seeing a car for the first time.

‘So this is where princess akiko lives.’ thought tanjiro. The building was similar to butterfly mansion, nothing that luxurious but quite spacious. The driver left soon after dropping them.

They crossed several corridors of children buzzing like bees. Laughter echoed among the hallways. How wonderful of a place for someone who lost their parents. Similar to them. They wondered if they would have grown up in this orphanage if they were born here.

Finally they reached to what seemed like an office. Similar to one shinobu used when researching herbs, the one which kanao uses now. They entered with a knock.

“Y/n san?”

Your head perked up at the name, which once your beloved used to refer. That beloved who never came.

Your heart ached a bit expecting kyojuro. A melancholic smile forms on your face seeing three kids infront of you. Of Course it wasn't him.

“yes?” you said gently, trying not to give in to your emotions.

But tanjiro could smell it. He smelled the intense grief bubbling within you. He could imagine how long you've bottled up your emotions.

Without saying much, he took the letter out of his sleeve placing it on your desk.

“It's been waiting for 3 years.”

“Huh?”

“Rengoku san wanted me to deliver this to you. Sorry this took so long.” your hands froze at his name. Your chest heaved without even you realizing as you grab the letter.

A single drop of tear fell on the spot which had been previously stained with tears. Tears of kyojuro rengoku.

Your fingers shaked tracing your name on the letter. The name which he used to call. Y/n not Akiko.

You teared the seal, taking out a paper. It was filled with words. Words, he never thought he could express on paper.

Dear y/n,

If you're reading this, then I'm sorry. I might have broken my promise of protecting you forever because by the time you read it— I will be dead.

Y/n i wanted to tell you, that I've loved you. I have loved you from the very beginning. Before even I saw you. You were the one who protected the flame in my heart. While others told me to set it ablaze, you made me learn how to keep the flame burning.

You were as beautiful to me as the rising sun. So bright, so clear. You were the epitome of my life. I wanted to live a peaceful life with you, in which my father let's go of his depression. In which your family accepts us. In which we don't have to hide from others. I wanted you to have my surname.

Your words were like the first rain of summer to me. You saved me from quenching my thirst by your words. I have been starved…. starved for so long that I forgot what being hungry for love feels like. Until you came into my life. you healed my heart, handled it as if it's porcelain.

I thought papers were something I would never choose to express myself with. But look at me now. Haha. I don't know why I'm writing it now, but I just feel like, the time’s soon going to be over. And I feel like I will be gone without seeing your face.

Please don't hate me for that.

If I get to spend my life with you I will probably burn this off, but if this letter somehow unfortunately finds you…I want you to know, I gave my best. I gave my very best to save the ones surrounding me. That I fullfilled my duty till the end. So don't feel sad.

I still can't believe you chose to love me. If possible I would like to meet you in another birth, in another universe without demons, where I will be yours, completely yours. You're the best thing that happened to me, y/n. You're just perfect.

But I must say….you’re dumb for choosing a man who bets his life for others, leaving the silver spoon you had in your mouth.

Sadly, our time was limited in this birth. Good bye princess akiko.

~ your kyojuro

The letter fell from your hands. Your lips quivering as you barely contained your tears, which stained the letter.

You just managed a smile at the kids who brought you this letter. He was no more. And you couldn't believe that. He knew you were Akiko not y/n. The truth you weren't able to tell him.

“I'm sorry for making this long. Rengoku san died saving us from a demon, 3 years ago” said tanjiro, tears staining his cheeks. So do the others, barely containing their emotions.

“oh! But i-im glad you all are safe. H-he fulfilled his duties right?”

“Does it hurts?” Tanjiro asked.

“A lot.” And if he wasn't seeing things, he saw rengoku for one second with a silly smile on his face, maybe wondering how to comfort you.

The second he blinked his eyes he was gone. What remained was his letter. Tanjiro handed the photo to you before leaving. He wondered if in another birth he gets to see the both of you reconcile.

He took a deep breath wanting to return to kanao. Maybe he would just ask her to marry him this year. He doesn't want to waste anymore time away from her.

“Where were you?” Asked zenitsu to inosuke, who went missing for a while. They are currently waiting for a train to go back home.

“To buy this.” Inosuke showed a butterfly hair pin decorated with blue crystals. It was beautiful.

“Woah. Who did you buy it for?”

“Aoi.” Tanjiro chuckled at his bluntness, while zenitsu smirked. It's funny how inosuke still gets both of their names incorrect but he never made a mistake in saying aoi’s name correctly. Who knows they might have two weddings…

Now that tanjiro had finally payed off the debt, he wished you happiness as he looked forward to a happier future. He will remember you, not as princess akiko, but as y/n.

“Let's go! I can't wait to see nezuko!!”

“Zenitsu watch out your way!!”

© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated | comments are reblogs are appreciated | banners are by me |

[flwrstqr]

∿ LOVE ON THE SPOT — PARK SUNGHOON

preview. › you, a world-renowned oscar-winning actor known for your exceptional talent, and sunghoon, a celebrated formula 1 driver, find yourselves entangled in an unexpected fake marriage. at an extravagant party, your parents announce an arranged marriage to a man you despise. desperate to escape, you impulsively point to sunghoon, a random stranger in the room, and claim to be married to him. as sunghoon plays along and you navigate this fake marriage, could genuine feelings develop from such an impulsive decision?

meet the cast. f1 driver!sunghoon x actor fem!reader (feat noh yunah from illit + cho miyeon from gidle + hyung line of enhypen + other cos)

genre. fake marriage, strangers to lovers, opposites attract, slightly enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, romance, medium fic, crack, angst

word count. 13k+

warnings. cursing, partying, drinking, profanity (no nsfw or smut), lots of bickering between them, sunghoon being very cold in the fic, fighting, yn being drunk, kissing, small grammar errors

danielle's note 𖥔 i really wanted to write an f1 racing au but like even tho i dont really watch f1. but I LOVEE f1 aus,, theyre js so hot yk!!! (and this fic is for my sunghoon girls!!!! wink wink im looking at u jenni) so i hope u guys enjoy this :333 also ignore how its like lowercase than uppercase cause i wrote this for 1 week..

﹙⠀ PLAYiNG . . . bad boy by red velvet, woke up by xg, break up with you girlfriend by ariana grande, so american by olivia rodrigo, like that by baby monster, the great mermaid by lesserafim

YOU'VE BEEN IN SPOTLIGHT FOR AS LONG AS YOU CAN REMEMBER. YN LN in another movie and killing it. The world knows your name, your face, your every move. A famous actor, adored by millions, you’ve mastered the art of charm on-screen and off. Cameras flash wherever you go, and you’ve become a professional at smiling through it all.

Then there’s Sunghoon, the world-renowned F1 driver. Where your world revolves around precision under the watchful eyes of fans, his is all speed and adrenaline. He’s intense, reckless even, living life on the edge at 200 miles per hour. Headlines scream his victories, and you’d think he’d be like every other celebrity you’ve met—full of ego (well has high ego somewhat). But Sunghoon is different.

You’re polar opposites, and everyone knows it. You, poised and polished, carefully calculated in the public eye. Him, unpredictable and wild.

Yet, somehow, your paths crossed, and despite the differences, there’s an undeniable pull between you two. Maybe it's just a play or an act. Or maybe, just maybe, opposites do attract.

THE PARTY WAS BUZZING WITH ENERGY—celebrities everywhere, people laughing, glasses clinking, and the music providing a backdrop to the scene. You stood with Miyeon and Yunah, doing your best to enjoy yourself despite feeling like you'd rather be anywhere else.

“Why do we keep coming to these things?” you sighed, taking a sip of your drink.

Miyeon grinned. “Because you only live once,”

Yunah laughed. “And because there’s always a story by the end of the night.”

You were about to respond when you felt a sudden dread creep up your spine. From the corner of your eye, you saw him—Youngdae. The boy you’d hated since forever. He was strutting towards you with that insufferable smirk on his face, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

You groaned. “Great, here we go.”

Miyeon followed your gaze and rolled her eyes. “Ugh, of course he’s here.”

“I swear he has a radar for wherever you are,” Yunah muttered under her breath.

Before you could brace yourself, Youngdae was already in front of you, flashing that arrogant smile you’d come to hate. “YN, looking stunning as always,” he smirked, leaning a little too close.

You took a step back, barely suppressing an eye roll. “What do you want, Youngdae?”

He chuckled, clearly not picking up on your disinterest. “I just wanted to say hello. Maybe catch up. You know, we could make a great pair, if you gave me a chance.”

Miyeon sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes along with you. “Can you just not?"

Youngdae shot her a look before refocusing his attention on you. “Come on, YN. Why keep fighting it? You and I—”

“Are never going to happen,” Yunah interrupted, stepping between you and Youngdae with a firm hand on his chest. “Back off.”

Youngdae frowned but didn’t push it. He simply shrugged and gave you one last wink before walking away.

“Ugh, he’s so persistent,” Miyeon grumbled as she turned to you. “How do you deal with him?”

“I don’t,” you replied with a soft laughter. “I just survive.”

But just as you were about to relax, you saw your parents making their way toward you. Your mom was smiling, your dad looking pleased as ever. You knew that look. They were up to something.

“There you are, sweetheart!” your mom said brightly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “We���ve been looking all over for you.”

Your dad smiled beside her, looking equally pleased. “We have some news.”

You raised an eyebrow, wary of whatever was coming. “What news?”

“Well,” your mom began, glancing between you and your friends, “we’ve found you a date. Finally!”

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

Your dad nodded as though this was the best thing in the world. “Yes, with Youngdae. His family is very well connected, and we think—”

“No,” you said, your voice rising slightly. “Absolutely not. There’s no way.”

Your mom blinked, looking surprised by your reaction. “What do you mean? He’s a very eligible young man.”

You stammered, trying to find a way out “I… I… I’m already seeing someone!”

Both your parents stared at you, confusion written across their faces. “You are?” your dad asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Yes,” you lied quickly, panic bubbling inside you. “I’ve been seeing someone for a while now, actually.”

Your mom looked intrigued. “Who?”

You swallowed hard, desperately scanning the crowd for someone to point to, just to get out of this mess. Your eyes landed on a guy standing by the bar—a tall figure with dark hair and sharp features. You didn’t recognize him at all, but he looked like he could play the part for a moment.

Hastily, you pointed in his direction. “Him. Over there. He’s… he’s my boyfriend.”

Your parents followed your gaze, squinting toward the bar. Your mom’s eyes widened slightly. “Are you talking about him?”

You nodded, still pointing even though you felt like you were spiraling further into this ridiculous situation. “Yes, we’ve been together for a while now.”

Miyeon was choking on her drink at this point, and Yunah gave you a look like you’d completely lost your mind.

Your dad frowned a little. “Who is he? What’s his name?”

You paused, suddenly realizing you didn’t even know the guy’s name. “Oh, uh… his name is…”

Miyeon whispered urgently beside you, “Don’t make it worse. His name is Sunghoon,”

You repeated,“Sunghoon. Yes Sunghoon.”

Your parents exchanged a glance, and your mom raised an eyebrow. “Sunghoon? You mean the F1 driver?”

Your heart stopped. What? You had no idea. You quickly played along, though, trying to keep your voice steady. “Yes, that’s him. We’ve been keeping things quiet because, you know… the press and all that.”

Your dad looked skeptical, but your mom seemed delighted. “Well, why didn’t you say anything sooner? This is big news!”

Your mind raced, trying to think of a way out of this conversation. “We were waiting for the right time.”

“And when did he propose?” your mom asked, clearly hooked on the story now.

You mentally cursed yourself for making it worse. “Yesterday! Yes, he proposed yesterday. It’s all very new.”

Your parents nodded thoughtfully, clearly pleased with the idea. “Well, we’ll have to meet him properly later,” your dad said. “But for now, we’re glad you’ve found someone.”

Your mom smiled warmly. “We’ll leave you to enjoy your night, darling. But make sure we meet him soon.”

And just like that, they were gone, leaving you standing there in stunned silence.

Miyeon burst out laughing as soon as they were out of earshot. “Oh my god, that was insane.”

Yunah was shaking her head, still in disbelief. “Do you even know who Sunghoon is?”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “I have no idea.”

Miyeon grinned, looking like she was thoroughly enjoying this. “Well, you just told your parents you’re marrying one of the most famous F1 drivers in the world. Good luck with that.”

Your heart sank as you glanced over at the guy you’d pointed to. He still hadn’t noticed anything, thank god, but now you were stuck in the biggest lie of your life.

How were you going to get out of this one?

THE PARTY CONTINUED AROUND YOU, the air buzzing with conversation and the occasional laughter. The idea of approaching the guy you had claimed as your “boyfriend” was now looming over you like a dark cloud. Miyeon and Yunah had been laughing about it all night.

“Okay,” you muttered under your breath, straightening your dress. “He's my future husband.”

You caught sight of Sunghoon at the bar again—still tall, still effortlessly cool, and completely unaware of the situation you had dragged him into. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and made your way over, trying to act casual as you pretended to be interested in getting a drink.

"One tequila please," you smiled at the bartender.

As you approached, he glanced at you briefly, then immediately looked away, not even acknowledging your presence. You awkwardly stood next to him, waiting for him to say something, but all you got was silence.

“So… uh, hey,” you started, your voice a little too high-pitched from the nerves. “How’s it going?”

Sunghoon barely glanced at you, his expression flat as he responded, “Fine.”

You blinked, not expecting him to be so cold. You cleared your throat, trying again. “So, I’ve noticed you’ve been hanging around the bar a lot. Are you enjoying the party?”

He sighed, clearly uninterested. “Look, I’m not really here to make friends nor do I know you.”

Your smile faltered as you realized this was going to be harder than you thought. “Oh, no, I wasn’t—” You cut yourself off, feeling a bit foolish. You tried to laugh it off, but it came out awkward. “I was just trying to, you know, start a conversation…”

Sunghoon didn’t even bother to look at you this time. “I’m not interested in whatever this is,” he said bluntly, taking a sip of his drink and turning his back to you slightly, as if dismissing the conversation altogether.

Great, this was going really well.

Before you could think of another way, you heard your mom’s voice calling your name. You looked up in panic to see your parents making their way over, all smiles and clearly excited to meet the man you had so boldly claimed as your fiancé.

You felt your heart leap into your throat. There was no turning back now.

With no other choice, you quickly reached out and grabbed Sunghoon’s arm, yanking him closer to you with a forced smile plastered on your face. “Oh, there you are!” you said brightly, doing your best to make it sound natural. “I was just telling them about how we’re, you know… together.”

Sunghoon stiffened under your touch, his eyes darting between you and your parents, confusion written all over his face. “What—?”

You discreetly stepped on his foot, hard, causing him to wince and bite his lip in pain. You shot him a quick, pleading look, hoping he’d catch on.

“Just play along,” you whispered harshly under your breath, your smile never faltering.

He looked at you for a long moment, clearly irritated, but finally sighed, giving in. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his tone reluctant. “We’re, uh, together.”

Your parents beamed, completely oblivious to the tension between the two of you. Your mom reached out to shake Sunghoon’s hand enthusiastically. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you, Sunghoon! We’ve heard so much about you.”

Sunghoon forced a tight smile, his arm still trapped in your grip. “Yeah… same here.”

Your dad patted him on the back, grinning. “You’re quite the catch! Our YN is lucky to have you.”

You could feel Sunghoon’s frustration simmering beneath the surface, but he kept his expression in check. “Lucky, right,” he mumbled through gritted teeth.

You stepped on his foot again, a little less hard this time, and leaned into him slightly, trying to keep up appearances. “Isn’t he just the best?” you cooed, practically cringing at how fake you sounded.

Sunghoon glanced at you with a pained expression, but he played along, his voice strained. “Yeah… I’m great.”

Your parents couldn’t have been more delighted. “Well, we’ll leave you two lovebirds alone for now,” your mom said with a wink. “But don’t think you’re getting out of dinner with us soon! We need to celebrate this engagement properly.”

You forced another bright smile as they walked away, your stomach churning with dread at the thought of dinner with your parents—and Sunghoon, of all people.

As soon as your parents were out of sight, you let go of Sunghoon’s arm and stepped back, giving him an apologetic look. “I’m really sorry about all of that,” you said quickly. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this, I just—”

Sunghoon held up a hand, cutting you off. “Save it,” he said, his voice clipped. “Just don’t step on my foot again.”

You bit your lip, feeling a little guilty, but also relieved that the worst was over. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear,” you said, trying to sound sincere.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You owe me big time,” he muttered before turning to leave, shaking his head.

A FEW DAYS HAD PASSED SINCE THE PARTY INCIDENT, but the chaos you’d caused still lingered in Sunghoon’s mind. He found himself in the garage with his friends, Jay, Jake, and Heeseung, leaning against his sleek, black sports car as they all casually chatted about their lives. Sunghoon was half-listening, his mind elsewhere, until Jake asked him something that brought him back to reality.

“So, are you going to be in the next race?” Jake asked, wiping his hands on a rag after tinkering with his car.

Sunghoon shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “What’s up with you lately? You’ve been distracted since that party.”

Sunghoon stared at the concrete floor for a moment before casually blurting out, “I’m dating or engaged. Or… something.”

The garage fell into silence. Jay, who had been leaning against a workbench, immediately turned to face Sunghoon with wide eyes. “What?”

Jake looked like he had just swallowed his tongue, blinking at Sunghoon like he hadn’t heard correctly. Heeseung, who was tightening a bolt on his engine, froze mid-motion, his wrench slipping from his grip and clattering to the ground.

“Dude,” Jay said slowly, standing up straight. “Are you serious right now? Did you just say you got engaged?”

Sunghoon scratched the back of his neck, looking both tired and mildly amused at their reactions. “Yeah… or something like that.”

“What do you mean ‘something like that’?” Jake demanded, clearly confused. “Since when are you even dating anyone?”

Sunghoon sighed, leaning further back against his car as he explained, “It’s complicated. Some girl at the party basically told her parents we’re engaged because she was trying to get out of a situation, and I got dragged into it.”

Heeseung let out a low whistle. “Wait, so you’re fake engaged?”

“Pretty much,” Sunghoon said, rubbing his temples like the whole thing gave him a headache.

Jay shook his head, still in disbelief. “That doesn’t even sound real, man. Who is this girl?”

“I don’t even know her that well,” Sunghoon admitted, sounding exasperated. “Her name’s YN,”

Heeseung blinked. “Wait, YN LN?”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon confirmed. “That’s the one.”

Jay nearly choked on his own spit. “You’re telling me you’re fake engaged to the YN LN? The one who’s all over the headlines?”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “She’s all over the headlines?”

Jake laughed incredulously, leaning against his car for support. “Dude, how do you not know that? She’s, like, one of the biggest actors right now. ”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “I don’t pay attention to that stuff. All I know is that she’s got her parents convinced that we’re together, and now I have to figure out how to get out of this without causing a massive scene.”

Jay shook his head, still grinning. “This is insane. You, of all people, caught up in some fake engagement with a celebrity.”

Heeseung smirked. “You’ve been in some high-speed races before, but this might be the wildest thing you’ve ever gotten into.”

Sunghoon groaned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Tell me about it. And the worst part is, her parents think I’m some perfect gentleman or something. They’re probably planning the wedding already.”

Jake chuckled, nudging Sunghoon with his elbow. “Well, look at the bright side—you’ve always been good under pressure. This is just another challenge.”

Sunghoon shot him a look. “Yeah, but this isn’t a race. This is someone’s life we’re talking about.”

Jay grinned. “And yours, apparently.”

Sunghoon sighed again, feeling the weight of the situation settling on him once more. “I’m just trying to figure out how to handle it without causing a mess. I don’t even know why I agreed to go along with it in the first place. Plus, I don't know this girl.”

Heeseung patted him on the back, smirking. “Maybe you just didn’t want to let the girl down. Sounds like you’re already some hero,”

Sunghoon shot him a deadpan look. “Yeah, sure. That’s exactly what I’m going for.”

Jay laughed. “Well, good luck, man. Just try not to end up accidentally married before you figure out how to get out of this.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks for the advice,” he said dryly with a hint of sarcasm. “I’ll be sure to avoid that.”

MIYEON AND YUNAH DRAGGED YOU OUT TO A STREET RACE. you weren’t exactly in the mood for it, but they insisted, pulling you along with promises of fun and a chance to clear your mind (and meet your so-said husband). engines roared, and the night was alive with the sound of revving motors and the sharp smell of gasoline.

as you scanned the area, your eyes landed on a familiar figure leaning casually against a sleek, black car. sunghoon. he looked as cool and composed as ever, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket, eyes scanning the crowd with a bored expression. when his gaze finally met yours, his face twisted into a look of irritation, and he rolled his eyes dramatically.

of course he would be here, you thought. but you knew you needed to talk to him about the upcoming dinner. miyeon and yunah noticed your sudden change in demeanor and shot you questioning looks, but you brushed them off, telling them you'd be back in a minute.

you made your way over to where sunghoon was standing. he didn’t bother to move as you approached, just watched you with that same indifferent, slightly irritated expression.

“sunghoon,” you started, trying to keep your voice steady, “we need to talk.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly uninterested. “about what?” he asked, his tone dripping with disinterest.

“about the dinner,” you replied, not backing down despite his attitude. “my parents want us to be there together.”

sunghoon let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes again. “can’t you just tell your parents we got into some argument and divorced or something?” he said coldly, his voice laced with sarcasm.

you clenched your fists, trying to keep your cool. “no, i can’t do that, sunghoon. it’s already confirmed. my parents are planning a wedding.”

for a moment, sunghoon’s expression faltered, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face. but just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by his usual cold look “a wedding?” he repeated, as if the word itself was foreign to him. “are you serious?”

“dead serious,” you replied, “they think we’re the perfect match or something. and they’re not taking no for an answer.”

sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “this is ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, though it was loud enough for you to hear. “so what? we’re supposed to just play along with this charade? pretend like everything’s fine?”

“i don’t see any other option,” you said, “if we don’t, they’ll just make things worse. we need to figure out how to handle this.”

sunghoon didn’t respond right away, his gaze drifting away from you as he stared off into the distance, lost in thought. after a moment, he pulled out his phone and held it out to you, his expression unreadable. “give me your number,” he said, his tone more resigned than anything.

you blinked, slightly taken aback by his sudden change in attitude, but quickly recovered, pulling out your own phone and exchanging numbers with him. the whole interaction felt strange, like you were stepping into unfamiliar territory.

“i’ll text you the details,” you said, trying to keep the conversation moving. “we’ll figure out a plan.”

sunghoon nodded, slipping his phone back into his pocket. for a brief moment, it almost seemed like the tension between you two had eased, but then he spoke again, his voice back to its usual coldness. “just don’t expect me to play nice,” he warned, his eyes narrowing slightly. “i’m not doing this for you. i’m doing this to get them off my back.”

THE NIGHT OF THE DINNER ARRIVED FATER THAN YOU ANTICIPATED, and before you knew it, you found yourself standing outside your parents’ house with sunghoon by your side. the two of you looked like the perfect couple, at least on the surface. you were both dressed impeccably—sunghoon in a sharp black suit (for the first time) and you in a simple, black dress that your mom had insisted you wear.

as you walked up to the front door, you forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as strained as it felt. “remember, just play along,” you whispered to sunghoon as you reached for the doorbell.

sunghoon sighed, barely masking his irritation. “yeah, yeah, i know the drill.”

the door swung open almost immediately, and you were greeted by your mother’s beaming face. “oh, there they are! my favorite couple,” she gushed, pulling you both into a tight hug. sunghoon stiffened beside you, clearly uncomfortable with the affectionate display, but he managed to return your mother’s smile.

“hi, mom,” you said, your voice a little too bright. “we’re here.”

“come in, come in!” she insisted, ushering you both inside. “dinner’s almost ready. your father’s been looking forward to this all week.”

as you entered the dining room, the smell of home-cooked food filled the air, mingling with the scent of fresh flowers. everything was arranged, from the perfectly folded napkins to the silverware.

“you two look wonderful,” your dad remarked, giving you both an approving nod as he took his seat at the head of the table. “it’s nice to finally have a proper family dinner.”

sunghoon flashed a polite smile, though you could tell he was barely holding back his annoyance. “thanks, sir. we’re happy to be here.”

you shot him a quick glance, impressed by his ability to keep up the act, even if it was just barely. every time your parents asked about your “relationship,” you forced a smile and nodded along with whatever sunghoon said, even when he was being sarcastic.

“so, how did you two meet?” your mom asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“it was... quite the story,” you began, trying to come up with something that wouldn’t sound too ridiculous.

sunghoon leaned back in his chair, smirking slightly. “yeah, she practically threw herself at me,” he said with a teasing tone that made you want to kick him under the table.

“oh, did she now?” your dad chuckled, clearly amused.

you felt your cheeks flush, but you kept your composure, forcing a laugh. “he’s exaggerating, of course,” you said, giving sunghoon a pointed look. “we met through mutual friends.”

sunghoon shrugged, his smirk never leaving his face. “something like that.”

sunghoon seemed to take every opportunity to make subtle jabs at you, whether it was a sarcastic comment about your habits or a teasing remark about your so-called relationship. it took everything in you not to snap at him in front of your parents.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, your parents excused themselves to the kitchen, leaving you and sunghoon alone at the table. the moment they were out of earshot, you turned to him, your fake smile dropping instantly.

“do you have to be such a jerk?” you hissed, keeping your voice low.

sunghoon rolled his eyes, leaning forward with an exasperated sigh. “i’m just trying to get through this as quickly as possible. it’s not my fault your parents are so nosy.”

“they’re not nosy, they’re just... interested,” you retorted, though even you could hear how weak your argument sounded. “and you don’t have to be so sarcastic all the time.”

“and you don’t have to be so uptight,” sunghoon shot back, his eyes narrowing. “seriously, you act like this is the end of the world.”

“maybe because it feels like it,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. “i didn’t ask for any of this, sunghoon.”

“neither did i,” he countered, his voice cold. “but here we are.”

before you could respond, you heard footsteps approaching, and you quickly plastered a fake smile back on your face. sunghoon did the same, though his expression looked more like a grimace than anything else.

your parents reentered the room, both of them carrying trays of dessert. “hope you two saved room for dessert!” your mom chimed, setting the trays down on the table.

“of course,” sunghoon replied smoothly, his tone completely different from the one he’d used just moments ago. he even managed to let out a laugh, though it sounded forced to your ears. you joined in, though your own laughter felt hollow.

as the evening finally came to a close, you stood by the door with sunghoon, thanking your parents for the dinner. they were both smiling, clearly satisfied with how the night had gone.

“thanks for coming,” your mom said, giving you both a warm hug. “we’ll have to do this again sometime.”

“definitely,” you lied, forcing another smile. “we’ll let you know.”

as soon as you were out the door, you let out a long sigh, the tension leaving your body all at once. sunghoon walked beside you in silence, his expression unreadable.

“thanks for playing along,” you said quietly, not really expecting a response.

sunghoon glanced at you, his eyes softening slightly. “yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he muttered, though there was less bite in his tone than before.

YOU WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF A BUSY SHOOT when one of your co-workers approached you with a grin. “hey, we’re planning a party for yunjin’s birthday this weekend! you should totally come,” they said, excitement bubbling in their voice.

you paused, considering it for a moment. parties weren’t really your thing; you preferred quieter, more intimate gatherings. (despite you saying that you were some "extrovert). but you didn’t want to seem like a killjoy, especially since you’d been getting along well with the rest of the crew. “hmm, sure,” you replied, trying to sound enthusiastic.

your co-worker beamed. “great! it’s gonna be a lot of fun. oh, and by the way, it’s a plus-one kind of thing. you can bring a friend… or your boyfriend.” they winked at you, clearly teasing.

you managed a small laugh, though inside, you were already feeling the pressure. “oh, okay,” you said, keeping your tone light. but as they walked away, the reality of the situation began to sink in. a plus-one. great.

back in your dressing room, you slumped into a chair, staring at your phone. you were part of a close-knit trio of friends, and the idea of inviting just one of them felt wrong. how could you choose between them? you knew if you invited one, the other would inevitably feel left out. the last thing you wanted was to create tension among your friends.

hours passed, and you found yourself going back and forth in your mind. should you just skip the party altogether? but then again, you’d already said yes, and backing out now would seem weird. besides, yunjin was nice, and you didn’t want to disappoint her.

finally, an idea began to take shape in your mind. it wasn’t ideal, but it might be the simplest solution. with a resigned sigh, you decided to invite sunghoon. after all, you owed him for putting up with your parents’ dinner, and this could be a way to pay him back. besides, it wasn’t like you were going to have a good time anyway—might as well drag him along.

you typed out a quick message and hesitated for a moment before hitting send.

hey, there’s this party for one of my co-workers. it’s a plus-one thing. wanna come?

it didn’t take long for his reply to come through.

fine. don’t expect me to stay for long, though.

you rolled your eyes at the screen, but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. typical sunghoon. at least he agreed to go, which took some of the pressure off you. you quickly texted back a simple thanks, and put your phone away, trying not to overthink the whole thing.

THE BAR WAS ALIVE WITH ENERGY as you stepped inside with sunghoon by your side. people were packed together on the dance floor. laughter and chatter filled the air, mingling with the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of a drunken cheer. couples were scattered around, some dancing close, others tucked away in corners, stealing kisses that made you roll your eyes.

“this place is… lively,” sunghoon muttered, his eyes scanning the crowd.

“yeah, it’s a party,” you replied with a slight shrug, though you couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place. you weren’t exactly the party type, and neither was sunghoon, which made the whole situation feel a little surreal.

deciding to get a drink to ease the tension, you made your way over to the bar, sunghoon following closely behind. the bartender barely glanced at you as he took your order, quickly mixing up a couple of drinks and sliding them across the counter. you grabbed your glass, taking a sip of the cool liquid, hoping it would help you relax.

sunghoon took a swig of his drink, his expression unreadable. “so, how long do we have to stay here?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“just a little while,” you replied, trying not to sound too eager to leave. “it’s yunjin’s birthday. i can’t just disappear after showing up.”

sunghoon sighed but didn’t argue, taking another drink instead. just as you were about to take another sip, you heard a familiar voice call out your name.

“oh my god, y/n!” yunjin’s voice rang out, full of excitement as she made her way over to you. she looked gorgeous, her outfit sparkling under the bar’s dim lights. “i’m so glad you came!” she exclaimed, wrapping you in a quick hug.

“of course,” you replied, returning her hug with a smile. “happy birthday!”

as yunjin pulled away, her eyes drifted over to sunghoon, and her expression shifted from excitement to shock. “wait a minute… are you with the famous f1 driver, sunghoon?!” she nearly squealed, her eyes wide with disbelief.

sunghoon gave her a polite nod, a small smile playing on his lips. “that would be me,” he said, his tone smooth and calm as ever.

yunjin’s mouth dropped open in awe, clearly starstruck. “i can’t believe this! i didn’t know you were engaged to him, y/n!” she exclaimed.

“uh, yeah… we go way back,” you said awkwardly, trying to keep the conversation light. yunjin was too caught up in her excitement to notice your discomfort, though, as she quickly introduced herself to sunghoon, gushing about how much she admired his career.

sunghoon handled it with grace, his usual cool demeanor never faltering. you watched the interaction with a mixture of amusement and mild irritation—sunghoon always seemed so effortless in social situations, even when he clearly didn’t want to be there.

after a few more minutes of chatting, yunjin finally excused herself to mingle with other guests, leaving you and sunghoon alone again. you downed the rest of your drink in one gulp.

“she seems nice,” sunghoon commented, his tone neutral as he sipped his drink.

“yeah, she’s great,” you agreed, though your mind was elsewhere. you could still feel the lingering stares from some of the other partygoers who had noticed sunghoon’s presence. it wasn’t every day that a famous athlete showed up at a regular birthday party, after all.

as the night wore on, you found yourself relaxing a little, the alcohol helping to take the edge off your nerves. you and sunghoon stayed near the bar, occasionally chatting about nothing in particular. but just as you were starting to feel comfortable, disaster struck.

you reached for another drink, but your hand wobbled, and before you knew it, the glass tipped over, spilling its contents all over your dress. you let out a startled gasp, staring down at the growing stain on your outfit.

“fuck,” you muttered, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. without thinking, you quickly excused yourself and made trip to the bathroom, hoping to save your dress before the stain set in.

as you stood in front of the mirror, dabbing at the stain with a paper towel, the bathroom door swung open, and sunghoon stepped inside. you glanced up, surprised to see him there.

“what are you doing?” you asked.

“what does it look like? helping,” sunghoon replied, grabbing another paper towel and joining you at the sink. his presence was a little too close for comfort, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned in to inspect the damage.

“i can handle it,” you insisted, though you didn’t move away.

“clearly,” he said dryly, his lips curving into a slight smirk as he continued to blot the stain. the scent of his cologne filled the small space, a mix of something clean and crisp that was distinctly him. it made your heart skip a beat, though you tried to ignore it.

“you didn’t have to follow me in here, you know,” you muttered, focusing on the task at hand.

“someone had to make sure you didn’t completely ruin your dress,” he retorted, his tone teasing. “besides, it’s not like i was having a great time out there.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “you’re such a pessimist.”

“and you’re such a klutz,” he shot back. for a moment, the bickering felt almost normal, like you weren’t two people stuck in a fake marriage.

as you continued to dab at the stain, your hands occasionally brushed against each other, and you became acutely aware of how close sunghoon was standing to you. the small bathroom seemed to shrink around you.

“you know, you didn’t have to invite me to this,” sunghoon said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “i’m sure you could’ve brought someone you actually like.”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you replied, though there was a hint of playfulness in your tone. “i figured this was a good way to pay you back for that dinner. besides, i couldn’t just pick one friend to invite. it felt… wrong.”

sunghoon glanced at you, his expression softening slightly. “i get it. but still, this whole thing is just—”

“a fake marriage, yeah, i know,” you cut in, a bit more bitterly than you intended. “but we’re stuck with it, so we might as well make the best of it.”

unknown to either of you, the bathroom door had been left slightly ajar, and just outside, youngdae stood with a smug smirk on his face. he had heard every word, and as he quietly backed away, a plan began to form in his mind. he couldn’t believe his luck—overhearing something as juicy as this was too good to pass up.

as he slipped back into the crowd, unnoticed, you and sunghoon continued to bicker in the bathroom, completely unaware that your secret was no longer safe.

YOU HAD NEVER IMAGINED YOURSELF IN THSI SITUATION—standing in a bridal boutique, skimming through racks of wedding dresses with sunghoon awkwardly hovering nearby. your parents had practically forced the two of you to go dress shopping together, giving you an outrageously huge budget and insisting that sunghoon accompany you. after all, what kind of engaged couple doesn’t choose their wedding dress together?

“can’t believe i’m doing this,” sunghoon muttered under his breath, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he stood off to the side, clearly uncomfortable.

“oh, come on,” you teased, holding up a dress with intricate lace detailing. “how bad can it be? just think of it as a chance to play dress-up.”

he rolled his eyes, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “yeah, ‘cause that’s exactly what i want to do on my day off—play dress-up.”

you ignored his sarcasm, too engrossed in the rows of dresses before you. everything sparkled and shimmered under the boutique’s soft lighting, and you couldn’t help but gasp in awe every time you pulled out a new dress. “oh my god, isn’t this one so pretty?” you exclaimed, holding up a strapless gown with a flowing tulle skirt.

sunghoon glanced at it, his expression unreadable. “yeah, it’s nice,” he said noncommittally.

“just nice?” you pouted, returning the dress to its rack. “you’re supposed to be helping me choose, you know.”

“i am helping,” he protested, though the way he stood there like a statue suggested otherwise. “i’m here, aren’t i?”

you huffed, turning back to the dresses. after a few more minutes of browsing, you finally picked out a few that caught your eye and headed to the fitting room. “okay, i’m gonna try these on. don’t go anywhere,” you instructed, pointing at him as you disappeared behind the curtain.

sunghoon sighed and leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. he wasn’t sure how he ended up in this position—fake marriage or not, this felt a little too real for his liking. but as much as he wanted to be anywhere else, he couldn’t deny the slight curiosity that tugged at him as he waited for you to reappear.

a few minutes later, you stepped out of the fitting room in the first dress, a simple yet elegant gown with delicate lace sleeves. you did a little twirl, smiling at yourself in the mirror before turning to sunghoon. “what do you think?”

sunghoon’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at you. for a moment, he forgot how to speak, his usual cool demeanor slipping as he took in the sight before him. when had you become this… pretty?

he quickly schooled his expression, trying to sound indifferent. “it’s okay, i guess.”

you frowned, though not completely disappointed. “just okay? really?”

“yeah, it’s fine,” he said, averting his gaze as if the dress wasn’t making his heart race.

you sighed, but didn’t let his lackluster response dampen your mood. “well, i have a few more to try on. maybe you’ll like the next one better.”

as you disappeared back into the fitting room, sunghoon let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. what was wrong with him? this was just dress shopping, nothing more. yet, the image of you in that dress lingered in his mind, making it hard to focus on anything else.

a few minutes later, you emerged again, this time in a dress that was the complete opposite of the first—sleek, modern, with a plunging neckline and an open back. you looked at sunghoon expectantly, waiting for his reaction.

once again, sunghoon felt his heart skip a beat. the dress hugged your curves perfectly, accentuating every line and angle. he swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. “it’s… okay too.”

you raised an eyebrow, not convinced. “that’s all you have to say? you’re not very helpful, you know.”

“they all look fine,” he insisted, though in truth, he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. every dress you tried on seemed to outshine the last, and it was becoming harder for him to maintain his usual aloofness.

you tried on a few more dresses, each one stunning in its own way, but every time you asked for his opinion, he gave the same response: “it’s okay.”

by the time you tried on the fifth dress, you were starting to get frustrated. “you literally said the same thing for the past five dresses,” you pointed out, hands on your hips as you glared at him in the mirror.

sunghoon shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of your stare. “well, they’re all okay, i guess…” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“ugh, you’re impossible,” you groaned, though there was a hint of a smile on your lips. “at this rate, we’ll never choose a dress.”

sunghoon glanced at you, his gaze softening for a moment. “you look good in all of them,” he admitted quietly, barely loud enough for you to hear.

you paused, taken aback by his words. it wasn’t much, but coming from him, it felt like a genuine compliment. “really?” you asked, your annoyance melting away as a smile spread across your face.

sunghoon looked away, feeling a little embarrassed. “yeah, really,” he said, clearing his throat as if to cover up the sincerity in his voice.

eventually, after much thinking, you finally chose a dress—a classic, timeless gown that felt like the perfect balance between elegance and simplicity. as you stood in front of the mirror, admiring the final choice, you couldn’t help but notice the way sunghoon was looking at you. his usual stoic expression had softened, and there was something in his eyes that made your heart flutter.

“so, this is the one?” he asked, his voice oddly gentle.

“yeah,” you replied, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “this is the one.” maybe, just maybe, this fake marriage was becoming something a little more real.

YOU, MIYEON, AND YUNAH ARE SPRAWLED COMFORTABLY ON THE OVERSIZED COUCH in Miyeon’s living room, a place you've all come to consider your second house (because of how many times the three of you stay at).

Yunah is on her phone, as usual, her eyes scanning the screen rapidly. Suddenly, she pauses, her lips curling into a smirk. “Well, well, look who’s trending,” she drawls, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. “You and Sunghoon are all over the news. Everyone's saying you’re officially together.”

Miyeon perks up at this as she leans forward. “Let me see!” she says eagerly, reaching out for Yunah’s phone.

Yunah hands it over with a knowing smile. “It’s literally everywhere,” she repeats, her tone teasing but supportive. “You guys are the talk of the town.”

Miyeon’s eyes widen as she scrolls through the headlines, her fingers flying across the screen. “Wow, they’re even calling you the ‘It’ couple of the year,” she remarks, half in awe, half in disbelief. “This is huge!”

You sigh, “I knew the story would get out, but I didn’t expect it to blow up like this,” you admit, running a hand through your hair.

Yunah chuckles, nudging you playfully. “Well, you’re both celebrities in your own right. An actor and a Formula 1 driver? That’s headline gold right there.”

Miyeon hands the phone back to Yunah, turning her attention to you with a curious glint in her eye. “So, how’s it been? Pretending to be married to one of the hottest guys on the planet? Any sparks flying yet?”

You blush, recalling the moments you’ve shared with Sunghoon—the way his gaze lingers on you a little longer than necessary, the way his cologne mingles in the air, the way he complimented you at the wedding dress shop. “It’s… interesting,” you say, trying to keep your tone neutral. “We’re both just trying to play our parts and not let things get too complicated.”

“Too late for that,” Yunah quips, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Come on, there’s gotta be something there.”

Miyeon nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, you can’t fool us. We know you too well. Besides, if you’re gonna be in the spotlight, you might as well enjoy it, right?”

You let out a small laugh, feeling the warmth of their support. “I don’t know… it’s all so confusing. One minute, it feels like we’re just playing a role, and the next, it feels… real.”

Yunah places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Just take it one step at a time. Don’t overthink it. If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen.”

Miyeon grins, giving you an encouraging look. “And in the meantime, we’ll be here to cheer you on. Fake or not, this is your story, and you get to write the ending.”

THE NIGHT AIR WAS THICK WITH THE ENERGY of the city as you, Miyeon, and Yunah staggered out of the cozy, dimly lit bar you’d spent the evening in. The three of you had gone out for a few drinks to unwind, but a few turned into more than you could count, and now you were decidedly tipsy—no, scratch that, you were drunk. The kind of drunk that makes the world spin and words blur together.

Miyeon, ever the responsible one, was trying to hail a cab while Yunah clung to your arm, giggling uncontrollably at something you couldn’t quite remember. A soft breeze ruffling your hair as you leaned against a lamppost, the ground feeling a little too far away for comfort.

“I should call… someone…” you muttered, fumbling for your phone in your bag, your fingers clumsy and uncoordinated.

Yunah snorted, still giggling. “Who’re you gonna call? Ghostbusters?”

“Sunghoon,” you slurred, finding his number on your phone with surprising accuracy despite the alcohol fogging your brain. Without another thought, you pressed the call button, bringing the phone to your ear as it rang.

On the other end, Sunghoon was sitting on the couch in his sleek, modern apartment, absentmindedly flipping through channels on the TV. He wasn’t really paying attention to anything in particular; his mind was elsewhere. Specifically, it was on you. At first, he’d told himself it was just part of the act, that he was only playing the role of your fake fiancé. But the more time he spent with you, the more he started to question that.

His phone buzzed on the coffee table, and he glanced at the screen, frowning slightly when he saw your name. You never called him, especially not this late. With a hint of worry, he picked up. “Hello?”

“Sunghoon!” you exclaimed, far too loud for a late-night call. Your voice was slurred.

“Are you… drunk?” he asked, his concern deepening. He could hear you giggling on the other end, and it did something funny to his chest. “Where are you?”

“Out… with Miyeon and Yunah. We’re having soooo much fun!” You hiccuped.

Sunghoon’s brow furrowed as he stood up, already grabbing his keys off the table. “You shouldn’t be out there alone. Stay where you are, I’m coming to get you.”

“But I’m not alone!” you protested, sounding like a child. “I’m with Miyeon and Yunah! They’re sooooo funny…”

“Stay there,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “I’m on my way.”

You didn’t seem to hear him, too busy giggling with Yunah about something that had apparently happened earlier in the evening. Sunghoon didn’t waste any more time. He was out the door and in his car within minutes, the engine roaring to life as he sped through the city streets.

By the time he reached the bar, you were sitting on the curb with Miyeon and Yunah, both of whom were also a little tipsy but still more composed than you. The moment Sunghoon stepped out of his car, your eyes lit up, though you didn’t seem to fully recognize him.

“There he is!” Miyeon said, relief evident in her voice as she waved him over. “She’s all yours, Sunghoon. Good luck.”

Sunghoon couldn’t help but chuckle despite his worry as he approached you. You looked up at him with a lazy grin, your eyes glazed over. “Who’re you?” you asked, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

“It’s me, Sunghoon,” he replied, crouching down in front of you. “Let’s get you home.”

You pouted, shaking your head like a stubborn child. “I don’t know you,” you mumbled, crossing your arms. “I’m not going anywhere with a stranger.”

Sunghoon sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing with you in this state. “Alright, alright,” he said, trying to keep his tone soothing. “But we can’t stay here. How about I take you somewhere safe?”

You squinted at him, clearly trying to decide if you could trust him. After a moment, you seemed to make up your mind and nodded. “Okay… but no funny business, mister!”

Sunghoon chuckled softly, his heart doing that funny little flip again. He gently helped you to your feet, slipping an arm around your waist to steady you. “I promise,” he said, leading you toward his car.

The drive was quiet, save for your occasional hiccup or mumble about how the city lights were so pretty. Sunghoon kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

When you arrived at his apartment, Sunghoon helped you out of the car and into the elevator. You leaned heavily against him, clearly exhausted but still stubbornly refusing to give him your address. He figured it was safer to just keep you with him for the night.

His apartment was as sleek and modern as ever, but tonight, it felt different having you there. He led you to the guest bedroom, flicking on the light as he helped you sit on the edge of the bed.

“Here we are,” he said softly, crouching down to help you with your shoes. “You can sleep here tonight.”

You blinked down at him, a smile spreading across your face. “You’re really nice for a stranger,” you slurred, reaching out to pat his head clumsily.

Sunghoon felt his face heat up, and he quickly stood, hoping you wouldn’t notice. “Okay, now go to sleep,” he said, trying to sound firm.

As he tucked you in, pulling the blanket up around you, you suddenly leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. The taste of alcohol lingered on your breath as you pulled back, giggling. “Thank you, stranger,” you murmured, your eyelids drooping heavily.

Sunghoon froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He stared down at you.

“Okay, now go to sleep,” he repeated, this time more to himself than to you as he gently pushed you back onto the pillow.

You were already half asleep, a soft smile on your lips as you mumbled something he couldn't puzzle out. Sunghoon stood there for a moment longer, just watching you.

Finally, he turned off the light and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him. As he leaned against the wall outside, he let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair.

He was definitely catching feelings for you, and tonight had only made that fact impossible to ignore. But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the simple fact that you were safe, and that was all that mattered.

For now.

YOU WAKE UP WITH A POUNDING HEADACHE. Groaning, you reach up to rub your temples, your eyes still squeezed shut against the harsh morning light filtering through the curtains. When you finally dare to open them, the first thing you see is a glass of water and a single pill on the nightstand next to you.

Grateful, you reach for the water and swallow the pill, hoping it’ll take the edge off your hangover. But as you set the glass back down, something feels… off. You blink a few times, trying to clear the fog from your mind. This didn’t look like your bedroom. Where were you?

You sit up slowly, the blanket sliding off your legs as you take in your surroundings. The room is spacious and sleek, with modern, minimalist decor—a far cry from the cozy clutter of your own place. Panic starts to bubble up in your chest as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, your feet meeting the cool hardwood floor.

You stand, wobbling slightly as the room tilts beneath you. After a moment, you steady yourself and start to walk toward the door. The apartment is eerily quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the city beyond the windows. You weren't kidnapped right?

You wander through the hallway, glancing at the modern art on the walls and the polished furniture that looks like it belongs in a high-end magazine. None of it is familiar. Displays of trophies. Your heart pounds faster as you pass by a living room with a sleek black couch and a glass coffee table, everything impeccably neat. Where are you?

Finally, you reach the kitchen, your breath catching in your throat as you see a tall figure standing by the counter, his back to you. He’s dressed casually, a black t-shirt stretching across his broad shoulders, his hair slightly tousled like he’s just woken up. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air, mingling with the sharp scent of something else—aftershave, maybe.

He turns around, and your heart skips a beat. Sunghoon.

He glances at you, his expression carefully neutral, though you can see the tension in his posture. “You’re awake,” he says, his voice low and measured, as if he’s trying not to sound too concerned.

You blink, still half-convinced you’re dreaming. “Sunghoon?” you whisper, your voice hoarse from sleep. “What… what happened? I was with Yunah and Miyeon…”

He nods, setting down the mug of coffee he was holding. “You were,” he confirms, his tone calm “But you got drunk, really drunk, and I thought it was best you stay here. You were pretty persistent about not telling me your address.”

You stare at him, your mind struggling to piece together the events of the previous night. Flashes of memory come back—calling him, the bar, the lights of the city, his worried face as he helped you into his car. You groan, slapping a hand to your forehead as it all starts to make sense. “Very smart of you, YN..” you mumble to yourself.

“Okay, fine,” you say, crossing your arms defensively. “But I’m still not happy about being brought here without knowing.”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, leaning against the counter again. “I didn’t exactly have many options, you know. You wouldn’t tell me your address.”

You huff, feeling a little defensive. “Maybe if you didn’t look so much like a stranger, I would’ve!”

He smirks, crossing his arms to mirror your stance. “I told you who I was. It’s not my fault you couldn’t recognize me in your drunk state.”

You narrow your eyes at him, the headache making you more irritable than usual. “Well, maybe next time you should have tried harder.”

“Next time?” he echoes, a playful glint in his eyes. “So, you’re planning to get drunk and forget who I am again?”

You roll your eyes, refusing to back down. “That’s not what I meant. I just… you could’ve left me with Yunah and Miyeon, you know.”

Sunghoon’s smirk fades slightly, and his tone becomes more serious. “They were tipsy too, and I wasn’t about to leave you with them in that condition. You were my responsibility after you called me.”

You bite your lip, realizing he has a point but not willing to admit it. “Well, you didn’t have to be so overprotective.”

He sighs, the amusement slipping from his face. “I wasn’t being overprotective. I was being responsible.”

You glare at him, but there’s no real anger behind it, “Fine, whatever. But you could’ve at least woken me up or something when we got here.”

He gives you a deadpan look. “You were barely conscious by the time we got here. I didn’t think you’d appreciate being woken up just so you could argue with me.”

You open your mouth to retort but realize you don’t have a good comeback. Instead, you huff again and look away, your arms still crossed. “You’re so annoying.”

Sunghoon chuckles softly, shaking his head. “And you’re impossible.”

THE EVENING SKY WAS A DEEP SHADE OF BLUE. the grand hall filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the low hum of chatter. Your engagement party was a few weeks later than planned, but no less extravagant.

You stood beside Sunghoon, the two of you playing the part of the perfect couple for the night. He looked effortlessly handsome in a tailored black suit. You were dressed in a stunning gown that flowed like water around you.

Sunghoon leaned in close as you both watched your families mingle and enjoy themselves. “Remember,” he said with a teasing smirk, “don’t drink too much tonight. I don’t think I could survive another night like the last time.”

You elbowed him lightly in the ribs, giving him a mock glare. “Very funny. I’ll have you know I’m fully in control tonight.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. “I’m just looking out for you.”

You opened your mouth to retort but were interrupted by the sound of a spoon tapping against a glass. Your father stood at the center of the room, commanding everyone’s attention with his broad smile and booming voice. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “if I could have your attention, please! It’s time for a toast from the happy couple!”

The guests turned toward you and Sunghoon, their eyes bright with expectation. You felt a flutter of nerves as you stepped forward, taking the microphone that was handed to you. Sunghoon stood beside you, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back—a gesture that felt more practiced than genuine.

You took a deep breath and smiled warmly at the crowd. “Thank you all for being here tonight,” you began, “It means the world to us to have our families and closest friends gathered together to celebrate this special occasion. We couldn’t be happier to share this moment with all of you.”

Sunghoon took the microphone next, his voice smooth and confident as he added, “We’re truly grateful for all the love and support we’ve received. We promise to make the most of this journey together, no matter what the future holds.”

There was a round of applause, followed by the clinking of glasses as everyone raised their drinks in a toast. You exchanged a smile with Sunghoon, relieved that the speech was over, but the evening wasn’t done with its surprises yet.

From somewhere in the crowd, a voice called out, “Give her a kiss!” It started as a playful suggestion, but soon others joined in, chanting and encouraging Sunghoon to kiss you.

Sunghoon chuckled nervously, his usual composed expression faltering slightly. “Oh,” he said, turning to you with a hesitant smile. He took your hand and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. “There.”

The crowd groaned in playful disapproval, with some guests booing and others laughing at the display. Your father, always the life of the party, wasn’t about to let it slide. “Come on, Sunghoon! On the lips!”

You froze, feeling the blood drain from your face as the room buzzed with anticipation. Sunghoon looked just as caught off guard, his eyes widening slightly before he forced a smile back onto his face. “Uh, okay…,” he mumbled, clearly out of his depth.

Sunghoon turned back to you, his eyes searching yours for a moment as if silently asking for permission. You gave him a small nod, your heart racing as he leaned in closer. All you could focus on was the feel of his breath against your lips, the scent of his cologne mingling with the faint traces of champagne.

Then, he closed the distance, pressing his lips against yours. It was over before it even began, a brief touch that was more awkward than anything, leaving you both standing there, trying to play it off with polite smiles as the guests erupted into cheers and applause.

But just as you thought the moment had passed, your grandmother’s voice cut through the noise “Y/N! Give him a real kiss!”

Laughter rippled through the room, and you felt your heart sink. This was not part of the plan. You turned to Sunghoon, your eyes wide with a mix of panic and disbelief. He looked just as flustered, his normally calm expression cracking under the pressure.

“Haha…,” you laughed awkwardly, glancing around the room for an escape, but there was none. The guests were all watching, eagerly awaiting the show they’d been promised.

With no other choice, you forced yourself to smile and faced Sunghoon again. “Well…,” you began, trying to sound lighthearted even though your pulse was racing. “Here goes nothing.”

You leaned in, your lips meeting his once more, but this time, there was no hesitation. The kiss was slow, lingering longer than the last. Sunghoon stiffened at first, clearly taken aback by your sudden compliance, but then something shifted. You felt it in the way his hand instinctively came to rest on your waist, pulling you just a little closer as he relaxed into the kiss.

Then, just as quickly as it started, it was over. Sunghoon pulled back, his eyes searching yours with an expression you couldn’t quite read. He looked almost shocked, as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened. But he quickly masked it with a smile, a little forced, but enough to appease the crowd.

The guests erupted into applause, their cheers and laughter filling the room as you blinked.

As the celebration continued around you, your gaze caught on a familiar face in the crowd. Youngdae. He was standing off to the side, his eyes narrowed as he watched the two of you. There was something in his expression—something smug, knowing. It sent a chill down your spine.

THE MORNING WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE ANY OTHER—calm, uneventful. You were scrolling through your phone, sipping on your coffee, when a notification caught your eye. At first, you thought it was just another article about the engagement, another gossip piece speculating about your relationship with Sunghoon. But the headline stopped you cold.

“Sunghoon and Y/N’s Relationship is All Fake and Scripted.”

You felt your heart drop into your stomach, the words blurring in front of your eyes. Panic surged through you as you clicked on the link, your mind racing. How did they find out? Who could have known? As the article loaded, your breath caught in your throat when you saw the author’s name.

Youngdae.

You scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping your lips as the reality of it set in. Of course, it was him. You should’ve known he was up to something, but you had been too distracted.

As you read through the article, each line felt like a slap to the face. He had all the details—the fake marriage, the carefully staged moments, even the reasons behind it all. It was as if he had been there, watching every step of the way, waiting for the perfect moment to expose the truth.

Your hands trembled as you scrolled through the comments, each one more vicious than the last. People were calling you a liar, accusing you of playing with their emotions for publicity. The overwhelming wave of hatred and disappointment made you feel sick.

It was all true. Every word of it. The relationship was fake. You knew that from the start, but seeing it laid out like this—so cold, so calculated—made it feel real in a way that shook you to your core.

You set your phone down, staring blankly at the wall in front of you. The buzz of your phone pulled you out of your daze—numerous missed calls from your parents, texts asking you to explain, to do damage control. But you ignored them. Right now, you couldn’t face them. There was only one person you needed to talk to.

Sunghoon.

THE ROAR OF THE ENGINES FILLED THE AIR the scent of burning rubber and gasoline lingering as you stood by the bleachers, watching the cars speed around the track. It felt like déjà vu, standing here again, in the same spot where you first met Sunghoon. Back then, you had watched him win with ease, his car a blur as he crossed the finish line in first place. Today, you found yourself here again, but everything felt different—heavier, uncertain.

As the race continued, your eyes were locked on Sunghoon’s car. You had come here to support him, to clear your mind and maybe, just maybe, find a way to fix everything. But when his car zoomed past, your heart skipped a beat. His eyes briefly met yours, a flash of recognition in his gaze, but then he looked away, ignoring you completely. A cold wave of dread washed over you.

The race was intense, but something was wrong. Sunghoon wasn’t leading like he usually did. For the first time, you watched as he struggled to maintain his position, falling into second place. It was subtle, but you could see the frustration in his driving, the slight hesitations that weren’t characteristic of him. When he finally crossed the finish line, there was no victory in his expression—only a bitter disappointment.

You didn’t waste any time, rushing down the bleachers, making sure to keep your face covered so no one would recognize you. You had to talk to him, had to find out what was going on. As you made your way to the pit area, your heart pounded in your chest, each step feeling heavier than the last.

You found him near his car, his back turned to you as he spoke with his team. He looked different—tense, his shoulders hunched with frustration. When he finally noticed you, his expression hardened, the coldness in his eyes hitting you like a punch to the gut.

“What do you want, Y/N?” he asked, his voice laced with bitterness.

You froze, taken aback by the harshness in his tone. “I… I just wanted to talk,” you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly.

“Talk about what?” he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “Us?”

“Yes,” you whispered, feeling a knot form in your throat. “About us.”

Sunghoon let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “There is no ‘us,’ Y/N. It’s over, isn’t it? They know, we know—it’s over.”

His words stung, each one like a dagger to your heart. You opened your mouth to protest, to explain, but nothing came out. He scoffed at your silence, his eyes narrowing in anger. Your eyes dart to his bruised knuckles but you don't ask.

“Sunghoon, please,” you tried again, your voice breaking. “I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

“Why?” he echoed, his voice rising in frustration. “Because this is the reason I got second place! Because I couldn’t focus, because all I could think about was this mess we’re in!”

You felt a sharp pang of guilt, the weight of his words sinking in. “Sunghoon, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Enough!” he cut you off, his voice firm and unyielding. “Just forget it, okay? We don’t know each other. It’s better that way.”

You stood there, speechless, as he turned away from you, his figure retreating into the crowd. 

(EARLIER, FLASHBACK)

PARK SUNGHOON STOOD NEAR HIS CAR, focused and mentally preparing himself for the race. But something was different today, a tension in the atmosphere that he couldn’t quite place.

As he made his way towards the pit lane, his eyes caught sight of a figure approaching. It was a young man, tall and lean, with a smug expression plastered across his face. Sunghoon squinted, trying to place the familiarity of the stranger. The man walked with an air of arrogance.

“Who are you?” Sunghoon asked, his voice cold and clipped, betraying the irritation that was beginning to simmer beneath the surface.

The man stopped in front of him, tilting his head slightly as if considering the question. “Youngdae,” he replied, his tone dripping with mockery. “I’m YN’s ‘close’ friend.”

The words hung in the air, the taunting lilt in Youngdae’s voice making Sunghoon’s stomach churn. His mind raced, trying to recall where he had seen this guy before. And then it clicked. The engagement party. Yunjin’s and…your engagement party. Sunghoon’s jaw tightened at the memory.

“And?” Sunghoon demanded, his voice now laced with suspicion. “What do you want?”

Youngdae smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he was having. “Oh, I just wanted to let you know,” he started, his tone nonchalant, “that I know everything. And YN… she’s been doing all of this for me. She told me she liked me.”

Sunghoon’s world tilted at those words. His heart stuttered in his chest, “What?” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loudly would make it true.

Youngdae’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Yeah, she’s been playing you, Sunghoon,” he continued, his voice taunting. “The whole marriage thing? It was just a way for her to escape, to protect me. She’s mine.”

Sunghoon’s blood boiled, his vision narrowing on the man in front of him. Lies. They had to be lies. But the seed of doubt had been planted, twisting and turning in his mind. “Oh really?” Sunghoon muttered, his voice low, dangerous.

Youngdae barely had time to react before Sunghoon’s fist connected with his jaw, sending him staggering backward. Youngdae straightened, wiping the blood from his lip, his smirk only widening.

“Touched a nerve, did I?” Youngdae sneered, stepping forward as if ready for more.

Sunghoon didn’t wait. Another punch.

Finally, with one last kick, Sunghoon sent Youngdae sprawling to the ground, breathing heavily, chest heaving. He stood over the other man, fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles bruised and bloody. But the pain in his hands was nothing compared to the ache in his chest.

“Congratulations,” Sunghoon spat, his voice thick with emotion. “You got yourself a girlfriend.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue.

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Youngdae on the ground. Was it true? Had everything between you been a lie?

IT HAD BEEN A WEEK SINCE THE WORLD YOU CAREFULLY CONSTRUCTED CAME CRASHING DOWN. The memories of that awful day played on a loop in your mind, leaving you exhausted and drained. You spent countless hours crying, the weight of Sunghoon’s words crushing you. Miyeon and Yunah sat by your side, their attempts to comfort you. They tried everything—funny stories, your favorite movies, even bringing you your favorite snacks—but nothing seemed to help.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon was a mess of his own. The usually confident and composed Formula 1 driver was now a stressed for the past week etched deeply into his features. He had barely slept, and when he did, his dreams were haunted by images of you—your smile, your laugh, and the pain in your eyes when he had turned his back on you. He didn’t want to think about it, but it was all he could think about.

He was sitting with Heeseung, Jay, and Jake. Heeseung glanced at Sunghoon, noticing the way his friend had been uncharacteristically quiet, his gaze unfocused as he stared off in the distance. Heeseung finally broke the silence, his tone cautious, “So… you ended things with YN?”

Sunghoon let out a long, heavy sigh, his hand running through his hair in frustration. “Yeah,” he muttered, the word filled with regret. “She was just using me to get some guy named Youngdae.”

Jake raised an eyebrow at that, his skepticism clear. “Her? Use you?” There was disbelief in his voice, as if the idea itself was absurd.

Jay, who had been scrolling through his phone, looked up with a frown. “Did you not read the article?” he asked, his tone serious. “The author is Youngdae. He’s the one who exposed your fake relationship or whatever.”

Sunghoon blinked, the words taking a moment to sink in. “What?” he muttered, confusion lacing his voice. He straightened in his seat, pulling out his phone with shaky hands. His fingers fumbled as he searched for the article, the one he had tried so hard to avoid reading because he thought he already knew the truth.

When the article loaded on his screen, he read it carefully, his eyes scanning every word, every sentence. As the pieces started to fall into place, his heart began to race. The tone of the article, the subtle jabs at both you and him, the not-so-subtle gloating—everything screamed of someone with a personal vendetta. Youngdae. The man who had approached him before the race, taunting him, planting seeds of doubt in his mind. Sunghoon’s eyes widened as realization hit him like a freight train.

“It was all a lie,” he whispered to himself. He looked up at his friends, his expression one of dawning horror. “She wasn’t using me. Youngdae set the whole thing up.”

Heeseung, Jay, and Jake watched as the realization washed over Sunghoon, each of them exchanging worried glances. “Yeah, it looks like that asshole was trying to mess with you both,” Jay said, his voice calm but firm.

Sunghoon’s thoughts were a whirlwind as he pieced everything together. The way Youngdae had approached him, the lies he’d told, the article designed to twist the truth and drive a wedge between you two. How could he have been so blind?

“Shoot,” Sunghoon cursed under his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. “I need to talk to her.”

YOU SIGHED, tugging at the sleeves of your jacket as you followed Yunah and Miyeon through the bustling crowd. The roar of excited fans and the distant rumble of engines filled the air, a constant reminder of where you were—somewhere you hadn’t wanted to be. Yunah had practically dragged you here, insisting that Sunghoon wouldn’t be part of the lineup today. “Just come along for the fun,” she had said. “It’ll be a good distraction.” And you had reluctantly agreed.

But as you found your seat and the contestants started to make their way onto the track, your heart nearly stopped. There he was. Sunghoon, as he strode confidently towards his car, the cheers of the crowd rising in volume.

“You lied, Yunah,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes at your friend.

Yunah winced, offering you a sheepish smile. “Oops. Guess I got that wrong.”

Miyeon chuckled, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Well, you’re not leaving now. We paid for these tickets!”

You rolled your eyes, trying to push down the pain that had been gnawing at you for days. It wasn’t easy seeing him after everything, the memories of your last encounter still fresh and raw. But you couldn’t deny the way your heart skipped a beat when his eyes met yours. For a fleeting moment, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, but you couldn’t bring yourself to return it, instead looking away quickly, focusing on the crowd.

The race was intense, the final race of the season. whoever won this race would be crowned the champion. Your eyes followed Sunghoon’s car as it sped around the track. You could feel your chest tightening with each passing lap, the anticipation building as he edged closer to victory.

And then, in a blur of speed and adrenaline, Sunghoon crossed the finish line first. The crowd erupted in cheers, the energy electric as the realization set in—he had won. Again.

Sunghoon stepped out of his car, triumphant, the smile on his face broad and genuine as he accepted his trophy. But then, to your surprise, he grabbed the microphone, his voice booming through the speakers.

“This is my fourth year being the champion of this season,” he began, his tone proud but also tinged with something else—something softer. “Thank you, everyone, for your support. It means the world to me.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, hoping the moment would pass quickly, but then his words took an unexpected turn.

“And to those who don’t think YN and I are together… we are,” Sunghoon continued, his eyes searching the crowd until they found you. Your breath hitched as he held your gaze. “And I love her. I truly do. I think it’s the way she laughs or smiles. It’s just the way she gives me butterflies. A composure I can’t hold when she’s with me.”

Your eyes widened, confusion and shock swirling in your mind. What was he doing? Was this some kind of joke? But his expression was serious, sincere, and there was a vulnerability in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

“I’m sorry, YN,” he said through the mic, the words raw and honest. Before you could process what was happening, you felt hands on your back—Yunah and Miyeon were pushing you out of your seat, urging you forward.

“Go on!” Yunah whispered excitedly, while Miyeon giggled beside her.

You were practically shoved onto the track, and suddenly, you were standing in front of Sunghoon. The world seemed to blur around you, the noise of the crowd fading into the background as all you could focus on was him—just him.

Sunghoon’s eyes softened as he looked at you, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He stepped closer, lowering the mic, his voice now just for you. “YN, I’m sorry for everything. For just leaving you with no explanation. I let my insecurities get the best of me, and I almost lost you because of it. But I swear, that’s never going to happen again.” You stared at him, confusion on your face.

“ I pieced it all together, and I realized how wrong I was. I was stupid, and I’m so sorry. But I love you, YN. I love you more than I can put into words. And I want us to be official, for real this time.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions washing over you. It felt surreal, like a dream you were afraid to wake up from. “Actually?” you whispered, needing to hear it again, needing to know this was real.

“Actually,” Sunghoon confirmed, a small, hopeful smile on his lips.

A smile slowly crept onto your face as you felt the last of your doubts melt away. “Well… I love you too,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion.

And then, before you could say another word, Sunghoon leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a soft kiss. His hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek as his lips moved against yours.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Sunghoon’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know,” he began, his voice teasing, “when you were drunk a few weeks ago, you kissed me on the lips.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” you asked.

“I was just waiting for this moment,” he replied with a grin, pulling you into another kiss as the crowd cheered around you, their applause now a distant echo.

THE CITY WAS ALIVE WITH A SOFT GLOW. Sunghoon drove through the city. You sat beside him, your hand resting comfortably on his as the cool night air streamed in through the open window, brushing against your skin and sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

The world outside was quiet, peaceful, a perfect contrast to the whirlwind of excitement that had surrounded you both ever since the news broke. Everyone knew now—about the engagement, the wedding plans, the future that was waiting for you both just around the corner.

Sunghoon glanced over at you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he admired the way the moonlight highlighted your features, making you look even more ethereal.

At every green light, he would lean over, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. His lips were soft, lingering just long enough to make your heart flutter, before he would pull away with a grin, only to repeat the sweet gesture at the next light.

“Do you know how beautiful you look right now?” he murmured, his voice low as his fingers intertwined with yours, giving your hand a light squeeze.

You smiled, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you looked over at him. “You always say that,” you teased, but the warmth in your voice showed how much you loved hearing it.

“It’s because it’s true,” he replied softly, leaning in for another kiss as the light turned green. This time, the kiss lingered a little longer, his lips moving tenderly against yours.

When he pulled back, a grin on his face that matched your own. “I can’t wait to marry you,” he whispered.

“Me neither,” you whispered back, leaning in for one more kiss.

[gothgoblinbabe]

『Obsessed』

Sub!Logan Howlett x Dom!fem reader

A/N: haiiiiiii I take forever to write im so sorry but I'm real proud of this one and I hope ya'll like it because there is a criminal lack of sub!Logan content

Warnings: NSFW//18+, swearing, sub!logan x dom!fem reader, friends to lovers, mutual pining, Logan’s a lil perverted in this one (steals your underwear), unprotected sex (pls dont do that), oral (F receiving), Handjob, uuuh cum eating sorry not sorry this ones a lil’ nasty, and if I missed any please let me know! ps I only proof read this once so pls forgive me for any mistakes

Summary: You and Logan are left alone for the weekend to supervise the kids while everyones out, but he can't help himself from going a step too far with his infatuation with you

Word Count: 12K

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Logan didn’t like the word ‘obsessed’. He thought it made him sound like a creep - which, maybe he was, at this point.

He preferred terms like ‘infatuated’ or ‘bewitched’. Those sounded like much better words to describe what he felt for you. It was so overpowering that it may have even been considered something more than an obsession. Everything about you was intoxicating; you put him under your influence and kept him wrapped around your finger. You had him from the moment he saw you for the first time, you just had no idea. He remembered seeing you enter the room and lock eyes with him. He never believed in love at first sight, it was total bullshit. Total bullshit, until he felt it with you.

He did everything he could to conceal it, though, knowing he was not immune to rejection.

You considered Logan one of your closest and best friends. He was always playfully teasing you, sometimes to the point where your face became warm. It actually only took a couple weeks for him to be positive that he was head over heels for you. He started calling you things like ‘princess’ and  ‘pretty girl’, as if they were your first name. He liked to see your gorgeous smile when he joked with you and hear your laugh that sounded like music to his ears. You were the first thing he thought about when he woke up in the morning and his last thought before bed. He couldn’t escape his feelings for you if he tried. Months of admiring you under the guise of strictly friendship was starting to eat away at his self-discipline, though. It became harder to leave you alone. 

His attempts to be close to you in any way possible were becoming bolder. Playfully swinging an arm around your shoulder so he could be close to you and smell your shampoo. Offering his hoodie when he could see you were cold so that he could fall asleep with his face in it after you gave it back. Even Logan himself understood he bordered on being a total creep, balancing on the thin line between that and what he understood to be infatuation. He’d still let you push him over into either side, regardless. 

Things got so much worse - or better? - for Logan when you both found out you’d be in the mansion, alone, for the weekend. Someone had to stay back and help with the kids while the others completed a mission and you were always quick to volunteer your free time to help - another thing he loved about you. He volunteered the second you did, of course, earning an amused eye roll from Scott. It didn’t take a genius to see he liked you - you were just blinded by the idea that he couldn’t possibly see you as more than a friend and colleague.

“So, what are we thinkin’ for this weekend? Mario kart tournament? Guitar Hero battle? We’ve got to think of something to keep the little creatures entertained,” you chatted with Logan as you walked side by side down the corridor. He always found it amusing when you called them that.

“Maybe we can give ‘em each a gameboy and just lock ‘em in their rooms for the weekend.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice? Oh, maybe we can trick them into cleaning something.”

“You want to try to trick a group of kids with mutant abilities? You know some of them are telepathic, right?”

“Well,” you realized he was right and tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, “there goes that idea.”

“We’ll figure something out.”

He wanted to give helpful input or ideas, he really did, but he couldn’t get the idea of being alone with you out of his mind. You’d been alone together, yeah - on missions, errands, doing whatever - but never at home. Never in a place where you both had bedrooms - where there was even a possibility of anything. 

In order for there to even begin to be a possibility that something would come out of being alone with you, though, he reminded himself he actually had to be able to confess his feelings to you first. 

He was lost in thought, so much so that he didn’t notice you had asked him something until you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to get his attention.

“Earth to Howlett,” you giggled, “anybody there?”

“Hm? Yeah, yeah. Just tired.”

“Didn’t hear what I said?”

He pursed his lips and you understood that to be an answer before he even opened his mouth.

“I asked you to go gather some of the kids and figure out if they have any ideas for something to do.”

“Got it.”

A little while later, you met with him in the living room. You each had a gaggle of children behind you.

“Okay, everybody sit,” Logan instructed, but they were all chatting far too loud with each other to even hear him.

“Sit!” you yelled.

Instantly, every child in the room found a seat and went completely silent with their attention to you.

“Thank you,” you sighed, “alright, who wants to go with me?”

About half the room raised their hands.

“Okay, who wants to go with Logan?”

The other half of the room raised their hands.

“I guess that works out,” Logan shrugged. 

He let the kids drag him off to do whatever it was they would decide on while you stayed with yours.

After maybe fifteen minutes of back and forth amongst the children, the majority decided on baking treats.

“Really?” you were a little surprised when they told you because of how simple you assumed the task would be, “Awesome! Everybody in the kitchen.”

You thought you’d give the kids the box mixes of muffins and cupcakes as well as a couple of logs of frozen cookie dough and they’d take it from there. Unfortunately, that was not what happened.

Ten minutes into the activity, you were already having to clean cake batter off the walls and flour off the floor.

“Oh, nope - no, no raw egg, I already told you that! Spit it out, spit, go,” you scolded one of the kids and directed him to the sink when you saw him crack an egg directly into his mouth.

“Dear god,” you muttered under your breath.

Another little girl yelled your name and you turned around. One of the bowls of raw batter was in the air.

You sighed and rubbed your temples.

“Teddy. Put it down, now” you knew exactly which one of them was the troublemaker.

The child in question was smiling wide.

“If you say so, miss.”

The bowl instantly dropped with a loud echo and its contents splattered everywhere.

You wiped a glob of batter off of your cheek.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, “Teddy, you’re going to clean all of that up or you’re spending the weekend in your room. Everyone else, if you pull anything like that, you’re doing the same. Got it?”

The children nodded and agreed in synchronization.

“Good.”

From then on, things seemingly went pretty smoothly.

You were chatting with a group of girls and helping them ice some of the cupcakes when one of them insisted she had to ask you a question.

“What do you do when you like somebody? Like…really like someone.”

She was one of the older girls, Alice, who was probably around seventeen. She looked away nervously and you smiled.

“Why? Do you really like somebody?” you lightly teased. You didn’t want to embarrass her, of course, but you thought it was cute that she came to you to ask.

“Yes!” one of the younger girls answered for her, leaning in to whisper to the group, “she likes Teddy.”

“Shut up!” Alice hissed, throwing one of the plastic whisks in her direction without actually lifting a finger, “I do not!”

“You write ‘A+T’ on everything!” the younger girl retorted, snickering.

“Okay, okay - leave her be,” you instructed, turning your attention back to the girl beside you, “I think when you really like somebody, you should tell them. It’s easier said than done, but you’ll feel so much better after you’ve done something about it instead of bottling up your feelings.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. Trust me, anything worth doing is scary. The worst thing that can happen is that they don’t feel the same way, and if that’s the case - there's plenty of people you’ll love in your lifetime.”

Alice nodded and exchanged amused expressions with her friend that sat on the other side of her.

“What?” you asked, laughing a little and looking between the two of them.

“So, is that what you did with Professor Logan?”

The both of them raised their eyebrows and giggled.

“W- um,” you cleared your throat, “what?”

“Oh, come on!” Alice rolled her eyes, “we may be kids, but we’re not blind.”

You narrowed your eyes at them and bit the inside of your cheek with your hand on your hip. After a moment of thought, you leaned down and spoke in a whisper.

“Not a word to him, understand? I swear, I’ll fail you both.”

“He likes you, you know,” Alice said, wiggling her eyebrows, “we can definitely tell.”

“Sure, he does,” you replied in a sarcastic tone and scoffed.

You’d had feelings for Logan for so long that you thought you’d learned to hide it well. Apparently not.

You considered him to be one of your closest friends. He playfully teased you on a regular basis, stayed up late to talk with you for hours, even held you when you cried - things good friends do. But his touch lingered when you brushed hands, you often caught him staring and he always stood so close to you - all little signs that made you feel as though there could possibly be something more. You figured that you were so close that if he really felt anything for you, though, he would’ve been direct and honest with you.

If only these two girls knew how you felt, you weren’t too nervous about it getting back to him. Kids started rumors all the time, you knew he’d take it with a grain of salt if one of them was bold enough to tell him.

You hadn’t considered how quick kids could be, though.

Logan was outside with his gaggle of kids, passing around a basketball with some of them while the others occupied themselves in the grass. The hot sun beating down on them was enough to make them sweat on its own but combined with the physical activity, it wasn’t long before everyone needed a break.

Logan sat on the grass to catch his breath, leaning back on his hands. Almost as soon as he sat down, one of the boys who had been playing sat across from him with two of his other friends.

“Hey,” he greeted them, squinting in the sun.

“I’ve got a question,” one of them said directly. He was probably about nine or ten.

“Alright,” he nodded, “shoot.”

“What do you do if you really like a girl?”

He quirked an eyebrow.

“You like a girl?”

“I never said that.”

“He does,” one of the boy’s friends interjected, “he’s always teasing her.”

“Shut up!” he replied and punched the other boy in the arm.

“Okay, listen,” Logan started, leaning forward, “first, you can’t tease a girl just ‘cause you like her. That’s not cool. If anything, it’ll make her dislike you.”

The boy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and tilted his head. He brought up your name in a curious tone.

“How come you do it to her, then? You like her and you do it.”

Logan feigned a confused expression.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, kid.”

“Dude,” one of the other boys raised his eyebrows.

“Dude,” Logan mocked him, “zip it.”

“Is that a yes?”

“ ‘Yes’ to what?”

“You like her.”

“No.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Nu-uh.”

“Yes.”

“Kid, I’m losin’ patience,” He huffed, taking a sip from his water bottle.

The young boy shrugged, “she likes you back, you know.”

He choked on his water and coughed, taking a moment to catch his breath. One of the other boys reached over and patted him on the back.

“Just went down the wrong way,” Logan wheezed, but none of them bought the excuse. His chest felt tight when he thought about the possibility of you liking him in any capacity that was more than friends.

“Anyway,” he continued with a deep breath, “If you like a girl, you should be nice to her. Bring her flowers, tell her she’s pretty - the classic stuff.”

“Gross,” the boy cringed.

He laughed and shook his head.

“So, did you give her flowers?”

“Who?”

The boy said your name again and Logan sighed.

“Bub, we work together - it’s not like that, alright?”

“Then why do you stare at her all the time?”

He pursed his lips and one of the boys stifled a laugh.

“I think she’s pretty,” he admitted, “I can look at her, that doesn’t mean I like her like that.”

They all giggled and began singing the k-i-s-s-i-n-g rhyme with your name and Logan’s.

“Okay,” he stood, crossing his arms, “if you three don't shut your mouths, I’m gonna hang each of you from a flag pole by your underwear.”

They all shuddered and didn’t say another word.

Later in the evening, all of the kids gathered in the living room to have a movie night. They were crowded on and around the couch with some on the floor or on bean bags. The coffee table was littered with popcorn, muffins and half eaten cookies. You were tucked into the corner of the couch with Logan, a fuzzy blanket draped over both your knees. Your eyes were focused on the movie but he noticed you shiver and draped his arm around your shoulder to pull you into him.

“You cold?”

“A little bit,” you answered honestly and pulled the blanket up further but he immediately unzipped his sweatshirt and held it out for you to put on.

“Logan -”

“Sh,” he held the sweatshirt open for you to put your arms through the sleeves, “take it.”

You sighed and obeyed, turning so you could do as he asked and shrug it on. When he saw you looking so cozy in his sweatshirt, he couldn’t help but tug you back into his side with his arm around you. He could hear your heart beat faster than it had before and he smiled to himself. Sometimes he thought you could feel the same way he did, but never wanted to get his hopes up. Neither you nor Logan could take your own advice that you’d given to the kids.

Somewhere in the middle of the movie, you positioned yourself to lay on your back with your legs over his lap and a pillow tucked under your head. By the time the film ended, you were fast asleep. Logan instructed the kids to take themselves to bed and they dispersed to do as they were told. A couple of them snickered as they passed by, seeing your legs on his lap while you snored softly.

When they had all disappeared from the room, he couldn’t help himself from taking a moment to just admire you. You looked so peaceful with your lips slightly parted and your eyes closed. You had the blanket tucked up to your chin with the sleeves of his sweatshirt covering your hands. He hesitantly reached over to swipe a strand of hair from your forehead and let his hand softly graze your cheek. He leaned down and tenderly planted a gentle kiss on your cheek, becoming enamored with the smell of your perfume that overwhelmed his senses.

“I really do wish I could tell you how much I love you,” he whispered as quietly as possible when he pulled away from you. He sighed and hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back so he could stand with you against his chest. He began to walk with you to the stairs, pressing his lips into the top of your head every now and then. You sleepily mumbled nonsense into his shirt, pressing your face into his chest and softly giggling from the pleasant feeling of the warm cotton.

“You’re real tired, huh, darlin’?” he whispered as he climbed up the stairs with you in his arms, but you were silent again. When he finally got to your room, he opened the door and laid you gently into your bed. You immediately made yourself comfortable with your knees curled up to your chest. He tucked your comforter over you and you began to snore again, indicating you were probably out for good. It wasn’t a surprise that handling rowdy kids all day had made you exhausted.

Again, he stood for a second to watch you. He wanted so badly to just crawl into bed with you, wrap his arms around you and hold you to his chest while you both fell asleep. Your room smelled so much like you that he imagined your bed probably smelled even more heavenly. He wanted to bury his face in your pillows and be nearly sedated from the fragrance of your hair. He wanted to be surrounded and swallowed by you.

Well aware that his behavior of watching you sleep was weird at best, he turned to leave your room. As he did, though, his eyes caught something that made his palms start to sweat. Directly on top of your dirty laundry basket, like a cherry on top of a sundae, was a red, lacy pair of panties. 

He knew it was wrong. He knew it was perverted. Would you notice if they were gone? Would you suspect him at all? Still, he couldn’t help himself.

He picked up the soft fabric and looked back to be sure you were still asleep. Knowing you were, he held the garment up and suppressed a moan. They were nearly see-through. He pressed the gusset of the panties up to his nose and thought his knees might give out. He knew it was bad, so bad, and yet, he folded them and shoved them into his back pocket. He went back to give you another gentle kiss on the forehead and left your room, shutting the door behind him.

When he got out into the hallway, he could already feel himself stiffening in his jeans. He got to his room as quickly as he could, locked the door and instantly kicked his shoes off and undid his belt. He took your panties out of his pocket, tossed them onto his sheets and shucked off his jeans. He crawled into bed and picked the garment back up, pressing his nose to the fabric so he could smell you again. He could already feel himself leaking in his boxers from just smelling you. He imagined what you’d taste like if you let him have you, if you let him trace every inch of you with his tongue until you were begging him for more. The image of your head thrown back in ecstasy while you squished his face between your thighs filled his mind and his eyes fluttered closed. He reached down with his other hand to stroke himself over the fabric of his boxers for a second of relief. He got so hard when he thought of you that it almost became painful at times. 

When he thought he’d teased himself enough, he finally dragged his boxers down his thighs so that his hard cock could slap onto his stomach. He swore under his breath at the relief of being free from the confines of his underwear. With your panties in his other hand, he had an ingenious idea.

He wrapped the soft red fabric around the base of his cock while his hand guided it up and down. He was enraptured by the idea that by fucking a pair of your worn panties and brushing his cock along the same fabric that had been soaked with your slick, it was like being able to be with you in some way. He told himself that when he arranged the gusset of the panties to sit right on the head of his cock, his hips twitching up to press himself into the fabric with a groan. It was maybe the closest he’d ever get to the real thing. He imagined the soft fabric he was pressing himself into was your cunt, that you were dragging your wet folds along the length of him. He imagined what it might feel like to run his hands over your soft skin and be able to touch you how he wanted. He began to pump himself again with the panties in his fist, messily fucking into his hand and leaking on to the same fabric he knew you had been in. He panted while he continued his movements, squeezing his eyes shut so he could picture you with your hands on his chest as you rode him. He could see your messy hair framing your gorgeous face and your tits bouncing above him while he jerked his hips up into you eagerly. The repeated movement was intoxicating. He was nearly drooling from how rapidly his mind was racing with thoughts of you - spread out in his bed or sitting in his lap or up against a wall - anything about you spurred him on. It took less than five minutes for him to be spilling all over his hand and stomach with a growl, the fabric of your panties damp with his release.

He groaned in frustration at the mess he made, taking off his shirt to clean himself off and tucking the panties under his pillow. He really did feel guilty - maybe he could get them in the wash without you noticing so he could plant them somewhere back in your room. For now, though, he was definitely keeping them. He ended up falling asleep that night with the fabric balled up in his fist.

The next day - to avoid a repeat of the overwhelming mess you had to clean yesterday -  you assigned some of the older kids to help keep an eye on the younger ones. You meant to wake up early to do so but you’d clearly slept in, standing barefoot in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in your hand. You were still in your pajama pants and Logan’s sweatshirt. 

He couldn’t help but smile when he came down and saw you wearing it, the gray sleeves hanging off your shoulders.

“I’m never gonna get that back, huh?”

His voice caught your attention and you turned around, smiling wide when you saw him step into the kitchen. He was already dressed in his tank and blue jeans.

“Oh, did you want it back?” you raised your eyebrows, “ ‘cause you're definitely not gettin’ it.”

You shot him a mischievous smile and his heart felt like it would beat out of his chest. He felt a pang of guilt seeing your beautiful face while knowing he did such filthy things to the thought of you. 

When you turned back around to look at the group of kids, half of them were whispering behind their hands and giggling while looking between the two of you.

“What?” you laughed a little and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing!” a few of them shouted in unison and you narrowed your eyes.

One of the younger boys, the one who talked to Logan the day before, raised his hand. He had a smug expression on his face when he made eye contact with him. Logan figured he knew what he was up to almost instantly.

“I know what it is!” the boy waved.

“Oh?” you looked at him expectantly.

Some of the other kids around him snickered.

“Professor Logan said he thinks you're pretty.”

You immediately turned to Logan, who was adorably red in the face - you couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or anger, though. You were biting down a smile, your face warm from the compliment. 

“Well,” you cleared your throat and spoke under your breath to Logan, “thank you.”

You were grinning uncontrollably now and the kids started to giggle again when they took notice.

“Okay, alright, enough - any ideas of what we wanna do today?” you finally asked.

Much to your surprise, they all shouted the same thing in unison. 

“Pool!”

You and Logan exchanged amused looks.

“Alright,” you nodded, “that was weirdly easy.”

“Get ready and meet back here in twenty minutes,” Logan instructed, “not a single one of you leaves without us, understood?”

They nodded and mumbled in agreement before excitedly running in different directions.

“So,” you were the first one to address the elephant left in the room, “you think I’m pretty, huh?”

“I, uh-“ he stuttered, trying to think if it was better to be honest or blame it on a rumor, “yeah, ‘course.”

He replied as if the answer was obvious. His face was sincere and you resented how much your face obviously showed you were giddy.

You laughed a little and the sound was replaced with silence. You chewed the inside of your cheek before speaking, unsure if you should even bring up what you were about to say. 

“You know, one of the girls told me something kind of funny yesterday,” you chuckled nervously and kept your gaze on the counter before you spoke again, “I don’t know why, but I guess some of the kids have it in their heads that you and I have a thing for each other or something.”

He froze where he stood. Well, telling the kids he thought you were pretty certainly wasn’t going to quell that theory.

“Uh, I - yeah, really weird, no idea where that came from,” he stuttered, scratching the back of his neck.

“Oh, me neither - me neither. I just - it was funny, is all.”

“Yeah, you know, kids love stories,” he nodded, “I’m, uh - I’m gonna go change.”

“Oh, right, yeah. Go ahead, I’ll meet you back here.”

That interaction bordered on being painful. 

You finished the rest of your coffee and went upstairs to your room to change. You picked out a two piece bathing suit and put shorts and a loose shirt over it before heading back down.

You waited patiently for the kids - and Logan - to come down and they were all ready within fifteen minutes. 

“Okay,” you fixed your sunglasses atop your head and clapped your hands together, “some ground rules before we go - no pushing, no running, no diving and if one of you drains the pool again, we’re all going back inside. Everybody got it?”

They agreed and you were laying in the sun minutes later, trying your best to keep an eye on everyone at once.

“Are you gonna go in?” you asked Logan, nodding towards the pool of kids playing Marco Polo.

He shrugged, looking down at his swim trunks.

“Maybe, but not until there’s at least less than fifteen of ‘em in there at once.”

You laughed and nodded, standing up from your chair. 

“Well, I’m sweatin’ my ass off - I’m going in,” you explained and pulled your shirt over your head. 

He sighed and watched you kick off your shorts. The swimsuit you were in was appropriate, of course - you were supervising kids - but just seeing so much of your skin made his mouth water. He thought about undoing the little ties on the side of your hips. He thought about your thighs, too - how soft they looked, how good he knew he could make you feel. He felt like he’d been blessed by luck just from looking at you, like it was a privilege to even stare.

His eyes followed your legs as you made your way to the edge of the pool. You jumped in and emerged from the surface of the water in seconds with your wet hair clinging to your face. He knew his staring was obvious but he just couldn’t help himself.  Preoccupied with staring, he never saw the inflatable beach ball coming before it hit him in the side of his face.

“Get in the pool!” one of the boys shouted at him and Logan picked up the inflatable ball, throwing it back into the water.

“Not feelin’ it right now.”

“Chicken!”

A couple of the boys started chanting the nickname and pumping their fists in the air.

“Chicken! Chicken! Chicken!”

He rolled his eyes and stood from his seat. The boys cheered as he took off his shirt.

You heard a couple of the older girls near you gasp and giggle excitedly. You followed their gaze to see Logan taking off his shirt and you laughed at their reaction - as if you didn’t feel the same way internally. One of them groaned and turned to you.

“You’re so lucky.”

“Lucky?”

A couple of the girls around you nodded.

“Yes!” she spoke again, “he stares at you, like, all the time.”

You rolled your eyes, “again with this? Guys, I don’t know what you think is happening but Logan’s my coworker - we’re friends.”

“Mhm,” one of them hummed suspiciously with a smirk, “sure, you are.”

“He was literally just staring at you,” another pointed out, nodding towards him.

He was already in the pool when you turned back to look at him, his wet hair dripping in front of his face. He was laughing with one of the younger kids sitting on his shoulders.

“I think you girls see what you want to,” you insisted and shook your head, “hey, if he ever tells me he likes me like that, I’ll let you skip your end of year test.”

The girls chattered excitedly amongst each other at your promise and eventually forgot about the subject.

You finally got out of the pool for good after about an hour or two, wrapping yourself in a towel and sitting back in your chair. Logan followed suit shortly after. You tried your best to keep your eyes off his body but god was it hard when he was dripping wet and looked so damn good. The trail of hair that started under his navel and went all the way down into the front of his shorts made you want to bang your head against a wall. Not to mention that when you looked at the front of his wet shorts, you could see the outline of his-

“Damn.”

You brought your attention back to his face when he spoke and followed his gaze to the ground. The shirt he had been wearing was completely soaked - collateral damage from a water gun battle. 

“I can run in and get you another shirt,” you shrugged and stood from your chair, slipping your shorts over your legs. 

“I can go -“

“Logan, it’s okay,” you insisted, “I have to grab a couple more towels anyway, just keep an eye on the kids while I’m gone.”

He put his hands up in defeat and slumped back into his chair, “they’re in the second drawer in my dresser.”

You simply nodded and slipped on your sandals, walking away. 

When you finally got back inside, you trudged up the stairs and down the hall to Logan’s room. You smiled to yourself when you cracked the door open. The whole room smelled just like his cologne. You found his dresser and immediately took notice of the little trinkets on top. One you recognized was a tiny plastic toy you’d taken out of your McDonalds happy meal months and months ago. You remembered giggling and handing it over to him, saying it was his early Christmas gift.

Another was a strip of photos you had taken in a booth on a field trip with the kids to the zoo. You picked it up and flipped it around, only to read your name and the date scribbled in Logan’s handwriting. Underneath was ‘It’ll always be you.’, written in black ink. You furrowed your eyebrows and flipped the photo strip back around. The first couple photos you remembered well - Logan’s arm around your shoulder in one, your tongues sticking out in another, but the last photo stuck out to you more than you remembered.

You were beaming at the camera, your shoulders tensed up while you leaned on him. Logan, though, wasn’t looking towards the camera. His eyes were on you, a small smile stuck on his face. Something about it made your chest hurt.

You sighed and put the photo strip down, remembering what you were here for. You opened the drawer he told you his shirts would be in and grabbed one before promptly pushing it shut. As you turned to leave, though, something in his bed caught your eye. You stopped in your tracks. There was a piece of red, lacy fabric sticking out from under his pillow. You really shouldn’t look through anything of his, you knew that, but you still couldn’t help yourself. The pattern of lace looked oddly familiar. You timidly lifted the pillow and your heart stopped. It was a pair of panties.

The lace looked familiar because they were your panties.

You picked them up and held them in disbelief. You remembered them being on top of your laundry when you saw them last. When you woke up this morning, though, you didn’t remember seeing them at all. Meaning, when he carried you up to your room last night, he must have pocketed them.

You felt the fabric between your fingers and recognized what had dried into it.

“No way,” you gasped, a shocked but amused smile on your face, “no fucking way. No way.”

You were giggling uncontrollably and staring at the garment in your hands.

“No way,” you repeated, whispering to yourself under your breath, “he jacked off in my fucking underwear.”

You probably should’ve been disgusted or creeped out or both, you knew that, but finding out a guy you had feelings for had been jacking off - assumably to you - with your panties felt like a win. Now that you’d put two and two together - the writing on the back of the photo and your panties hidden under his pillow - you figured you’d have to make some sort of plan to approach him about it. You stuffed them into your pocket and returned to the pool with more towels and Logan’s t-shirt. It was nearly impossible to pretend for the rest of the day that you’d never found what you did.

Once everyone had finished dinner that night and dispersed to get themselves ready for bed, you were left alone in the hallway with him.

“Today was fun,” you admitted, “even if my hair stinks like chlorine.”

“It doesn’t smell too bad,” he insisted and pressed his nose to the top of your head without a second thought, “just like summer.”

You found yourself feeling warm when he was so close to you. You cleared your throat nervously and found yourself staring up at him in silence when he pulled away.

“I’m, uh…I’m gonna go take a shower,” he mumbled with his eyes still locked on yours, “but I had a lot of fun today, too. I liked hangin’ out with you so much this weekend.”

“Me too,” you replied instantly, “we’ll have to spend more time together soon.”

There was a flirtatious tone to your voice that made him sweat, but he figured he was looking too much into it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked.

“See you tomorrow, bub,” you giggled a little, turning on your heel and walking to your room.

He sighed and watched you walk away. When he finally went off to his room, he decided his shower was definitely going to be a cold one.

You were pacing in your room as he got to his, your arms crossed as you tried to think of what the hell to do. You had to do something to make some kind of move. You were stuck until your last conversation with him replayed in your mind.

I’m gonna go take a shower.

You stopped pacing and got into your own shower as fast as you could. You threw on a pair of sweatpants and the sweatshirt you had borrowed from Logan the night before - except you wore nothing underneath.

You were knocking on his door minutes later, nervously rocking back and forth on your heels.

When he answered the door, he had only a towel around his waist.

“Uh,” your eyes immediately fell to his torso, “hi.”

“Hey,” he laughed a little when he noticed you weren’t looking him in the eye, “you need somethin’?”

You swallowed hard.

“Just wanna talk to you for a sec,” you answered.

He stepped aside to let you in and closed his bedroom door behind you.

“One minute,” he told you, stepping back into his bathroom and closing the door to get dressed. When he disappeared out of view, you reached behind you to click the lock on his doorknob.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t help smiling at the nickname, your stomach erupting in butterflies as he reemerged in sweatpants and no shirt.

“Uh, yeah, everythings great - I just had a question.”

You reminded yourself you had to be confident when you approached him. He sat on the edge of his bed and you tentatively stepped forward to stand in front of his open legs. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. You could tell that he seemed a little nervous.

“Logan,” you bit down a smile, “if I asked you something, you’d be honest with me - wouldn’t you?”

He shot you a confused look but nodded anyway.

“Yeah, of course I would.”

“Mhm,” you hummed and reached into the pocket of your sweatshirt, “so, why did I find these under your pillow?”

You dangled the piece of red lacy fabric in front of his face and he went pale and wide eyed.

“Shit.”

You were smiling like you’d won the lottery.

“I- I can explain, uh, about that -“ he was stuttering but you cut him short.

“Can you? Because what it looks like is that you took my panties out of my laundry.”

He was surprised you didn’t sound mad or disgusted. You were smiling, like this was entertaining.

“Uh…” his words caught in his throat and he coughed, “I, um, I wasn’t…I wasn’t-“

“Baby,” you said softly, leaning down and putting a hand on his knee, “it’s okay.”

You could feel his muscles tense under your touch and his eyes darted from yours to your hand and then back up again. He felt lightheaded.

“If you wanted these so bad, you could’ve said something, you know,” you muttered, still dangling the fabric in front of him.

“Yeah, right,” he said sarcastically and scoffed in an attempt to play cool, “ ‘cause you would’ve just given ‘em to me.”

“Well,” you stood straight again and held the panties in front of you so you could feign that you were inspecting them, “I would’ve let you do a lot more than jack off into my underwear.”

He looked absolutely mortified in a way you’d never seen before at the realization that you figured out exactly what he did with them.

“Aw, don’t be shy, sweetheart, it’s okay,” you cooed and got down on your knees in front of him, resting your elbows on his lap, “you just wanted me so bad that you thought fucking my panties was all you’d ever get, huh? Am I right?”

Your near mocking tone already had him growing hard underneath his sweatpants. He was almost sure he was having a wet dream.

Still, he found himself slowly nodding in agreement. 

“Wanted you so bad,” he finally admitted. His breathing was shaky.

“Do you still want me?” you asked, but he was nodding again before you even finished the question. Your chest swelled with pride and you were more than confident now in your approach. You gently held his face in your hands and you could see he was quickly turning red.

“Logan.”

“Hm?”

He was far too enraptured by you to actually say anything.

“Kiss me.”

His lips parted in surprise, thinking he must’ve misheard you. You dominantly held his chin when he didn’t move.

“I said kiss me,” you repeated in a firm voice and he groaned and gave in to temptation, hungrily mashing his lips against yours. It was loving and needy at the same time. He was eager to get his tongue in your mouth but his lips were soft and he was so gentle with you. He cradled your face in his hands just as you had done. It was a good while before either of you pulled away, too lost in the feeling of each other.

“What’d you think about when you did it?” you asked when you disconnected your lips. You cradled the back of his neck with your hands and he was practically melting from your touch.

“Hm?” Logan was so overwhelmed in the best way possible that he hadn’t even heard you speak - he was still reeling just from realizing you weren’t going to scold him for what he’d done and actually seemed to like it so much that you kissed him.

“What did you think about when you touched yourself for me?”

He couldn’t help the groan that escaped his lips from hearing you talk to him like that.

You giggled a little, amused by how little it took to have him half hard already. 

“Thought about - thought about bein’ able to fuck you,” he inhaled deeply, “thought about you on top of me and how beautiful you are.”

His complete honesty and the genuine compliment made your heart flutter.

“Oh, so you’d want me on top?” you inquired and slowly inched a hand from his knee towards the top of his thigh.

“Uh,” he closed his eyes and took another deep breath, as if he was imagining it at that very moment, “god, yeah.”

You were smiling so wide that your cheeks hurt. You had a wicked idea that had you wet just thinking it.

“Show me what you did with them.”

You dropped the panties directly onto the growing bulge under his sweatpants. He parted his lips in surprise and you sat back on your heels, waiting patiently.

“You - you wanna watch while…fuck,” he was panting and you hadn’t even touched him yet. 

You nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. He felt like he was on fire. 

“C’mon, pretty boy,” you mercifully placed a hand over the front of his sweatpants and his hips instinctively ground towards your touch, “for me?”

He nodded frantically, eagerly hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his pants and boxers as he lifted his hips so he could pull them down his thighs. When his cock sprung free from the confines of his clothing, your mouth started to water - he was huge. You had to remind yourself not to just give in - that you wanted to make him work for it.

“Here,” you dangled the pair of parties that had fallen to the floor in front of him.

He excitedly wrapped the fabric around his cock, closing his fist over it to pump himself. You watched in awe as he whined and whimpered from barely touching himself, his eyes never leaving yours. He was stroking himself at a slow pace, beads of precum forming at the tip and dribbling over his hand. As dirty as his actions were, you thought he looked like he could be the subject of a painting in a museum - head thrown back in bliss, his features painted by the golden yellow light of the lamp on his nightstand and his chest heaving as he panted.

“So good for me,” you said in a low volume and he groaned, “does it feel good, baby?”

He twitched in his fist and you could tell that your praise had him making a mess in his hand.

“Feels really fucking good,” he moaned and you had to resist the urge to nudge his hand away and replace it with yours. You wanted to taste him, even if it was just one swipe of your tongue over the head of his cock. You imagined that he tasted like his kiss.

“I thought about you too, you know,” you cocked your head and wet your lips.

“You did?” 

He seemed genuinely surprised, the motion of his hand only faltering a little.

“Of course,” you smirked, “Do you wanna know what I thought about?”

“Please,” he pleaded instantly, “I wanna know.”

“I thought about your pretty face, how good I think you’d fuck me.”

He groaned and leaned back on the elbow of his other arm.

“I think about you all the time,” you admitted with your eyes flickering between his face and his hand, “I think about riding you with your hands on my ass. I think about how much I’d love the scratchiness of your beard on my thighs if you ate me out.”

He was panting and whining every time you made a confession. You could see how desperate he was becoming and it turned you on beyond belief. With his eyes still on you, you began to unzip the front of your - his - sweatshirt at an agonizingly slow pace. The further you pulled the zipper down, the more he realized there was nothing underneath.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he loudly groaned before you even opened the front of the garment.

“I love how easy it is to rile you up,” you said truthfully.

“ ‘s not gonna be hard. I’ve been obsessed with you for a while.”

That was the first time he’d said it out loud - that he even liked you, yes, but it was the first time he’d used the word obsessed to describe what it was he felt for you.

“Obsessed with me, huh?” you asked softly as you began to shrug off the sweatshirt, “I can tell.”

You thought he was nearly going to finish just from seeing your bare chest. His hips jerked towards his hand and he squeezed his eyes shut while his jaw hung open. He moaned your name and you felt like you’d heard an angel sing.

“So - you’re so perfect,” he stuttered, opening his eyes and raking them up and down your body.

“You think so?”

You really just loved to hear him talk in between grunting and moaning your name.

“ ‘Course,” He nodded frantically, “I stare at you all the time, can’t take my eyes off you.”

That, you knew, but again - you still loved to hear him say it aloud.

“Love your voice, your hair,” he continued and nodded towards the sweatshirt that was now loosely hanging from your arms, “I gave you my sweatshirt so it’d smell like you when ya’ gave it back.”

“Really?” you slowly stood and he sat up straight, “I borrow them because they smell like you.”

It was the honest truth and you noticed his thigh start to shake the second the words slipped out of your mouth. Standing in front of him as he sat on the bed made him eye level with your chest and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You held his face in your hands and he looked up into your eyes like he saw the world in them.

“Do you wanna touch ‘em, sweetheart?” you asked in a soft voice and he nodded, “go ahead.”

The second you said the word ‘go’, he already had his free hand on the small of your back, holding you closer while he latched his mouth onto one of your nipples. 

You let out a small whimper and he growled into your flesh, his tongue swirling and sucking.

“Logan,” you sighed his name and threaded your fingers through his hair.

“F-mm, fuck, can’t - can’t go sayin’ my name like that,” he swallowed hard and buried his face in your chest.

“You like it when I say your name, Logan?”

He groaned loudly, leaving wet open mouthed kisses. You could see the drool gathering in the counter of his mouth. He was moaning and whimpering into the soft flesh, feeling himself get closer and closer to the edge.

“ ‘m gonna come too fast if you fuckin’ do that again,” he tried to warn you but you swiped some hair out of his face. 

Maybe it wasn’t a good time to say it, but the three words that had been unspoken for so long threatened to escape your mouth when you had him like this. You tilted his head so he had to look you in the eyes.

“I love you, Logan.”

He growled animalistically, almost instantly cumming in his fist and making a mess of his lap and stomach while he rambled on.

“Love you - I love you so fuckin’ much,” he admitted, burying his face in your chest. He may have been embarrassed about coming so fast, but you were more than pleased that you made him finish so soon.

“Hey, maybe next time, you show me?” you asked and he raised his eyebrows.

“Next time? Oh, no,” his eyes were wide, like a kid in a candy store, “get on the bed.”

You almost told him to remember who was in charge, who made the demands, but you were far too excited to just be with him. You shrugged off his sweatshirt and laid on his bed. He crawled over to you after he cleaned himself up and pulled you in to kiss again. The warmth of your chest on his was intoxicating for him. His hands eagerly explored all the expanses of soft skin he had dreamed of touching, eventually stopping to rest one at the front of your sweatpants. Without hesitation, his fingers breached the elastic and he slid his hand down, only to realize you weren’t wearing anything underneath the sweatpants either.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?” he warned.

You playfully grinned, all the way up until you felt him drag two fingers right through your folds, sliding them up and down at a slow and steady pace.

“Logan,” you sighed, “fuck.”

He dragged the waistband of your sweatpants down and you kicked them off, leaving you as bare as he was. He sat back on his heels so he could take a good look at you. It was a tender moment in between passionate frenzies of hands and mouths.

“You’re everythin’ I ever dreamed of, you know,” he sighed and you could’ve cried from how sweet he was.

“Really?”

You were still enamored with each other, basking in the warmth of newly exposed skin. The air in the room was much different than it had been before, though. What felt like built up tension dissipated and was replaced by the excitement of getting to finally be with each other.

“Yes, really,” Logan replied in disbelief, as if even asking that was crazy, “you’re fucking beautiful.”

Even while he was sitting back on his heels, his thighs spread and his semi hard cock on full display, he still made you bashful with every compliment.

“You’re fucking hot, c’mere,” you eagerly reached up to press your lips to his and bring him down on top of you with your arms around his neck.

He moaned into your mouth and let you pull him down, reveling in the sensation of your hands moving to tug at his hair. 

“I wanna make you feel good,” he mumbled against your lips in between kisses while his hands kneaded the widest part of your thighs.

“You do,” you replied instantly, but he shook his head and pulled away a little.

“Uh-uh, I mean like this.”

Two of his fingers slipped between your folds again and found your clit instantly. He started lightly tracing circles around the bundle of nerves. Your back arched and you gasped, spreading your legs wider in an impossible attempt to somehow get more of him.

“Is that good?” he asked, eyes flickering from your face to your pussy and back again.

“It - ah - ‘s really good, you’re doing such a good job, baby,” you replied, whimpering when he started to trace his fingers even further down so that they could slip into you.

“You’re so fucking wet, Jesus,” he groaned, looking like he was going to faint just from the sight of his fingers becoming soaked when he thrusted them in and back out again. He moved himself a little further down the mattress to settle his face in between your thighs while he laid on his stomach. He wanted to watch you clench around his fingers up close and get a taste of what he’d been fantasizing about for so long.

“Logan,” you moaned softly when he curled his fingers, “think you - you’d feel so fucking good in me.”

He could feel himself already growing hard again against the mattress just from the words spilling from your lips. He was leaving hungry, open mouthed kisses from the inside of your thighs right up until his breath was fanning your aching cunt.

“Such a good boy,” you managed to pant while his fingers still worked at a relentless pace. His eyes were glued to where you were taking him, mesmerized by how wet you were and the noises you were making. 

You arched your back and whimpered when he pulled his fingers from you so he could spread your slick all the way up to your clit and circle around it.

“I know you wanna taste it, baby,” you noticed his intense stare, “go ahead.”

He retracted his fingers so he could spread you open with his thumbs, lay his tongue flat and lick you.

“Fucking Christ,” you swore when you felt the warm, wet heat of his tongue.

He moaned into you, grinding his hips down on the mattress for any sort of relief.

“Taste even better than I imagined,” he took a deep breath, “I think about this all the time.”

You couldn’t help the smug grin on your face, broken every now and then when a moan escaped your mouth.

“You get off thinking about eating my pussy?”

He hummed with his tongue still swiping up your cunt.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” you sighed, “what else do you think about, babe?”

Even just hearing the nickname from you was still enough to make his cock twitch.

“Like lookin’ at your legs,” he spoke in between licking and sucking, “thinkin’ about how soft your thighs would be around my head.”

You were turned on beyond belief when he confessed those things to you. Something about his devotion, how he’d do seemingly anything for you, ignited some kind of fire in the pit of your stomach. He even noticed how you immediately started to get even wetter.

“You like when I tell you stuff like that?” 

Your eyes were closed and your hips rolled forward to push yourself even further onto his fingers, even if he was already knuckle deep. You nodded in response, too distracted by the pleasure of having Logan’s tongue and fingers at the same time.

“I love watchin’ your hips when you walk” he muttered against you, “thinkin’ about getting to hold ‘em while you ride me.”

There was no way you could be turned on any more than you were. You were moaning and whimpering into a pillow when you started to get so loud that you feared someone would hear you. Logan looked up and smiled to himself, satisfied that he could touch you so right that you had to muffle the sound of your moans.

“I look at your tits a lot when you talk to me,” he started again, knowing how much you seemed to like it, “can’t help it, always thinkin’ about gettin’ to touch ‘em and put ‘em in my mouth.”

“I - fuck - I wear low cut stuff on purpose so you’ll stare,” you gasped, “wanted you to think about me.”

“God, I do, all the time,” he groaned before making obscene wet noises while he buried his face in your pussy. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you confessed, “need to feel you inside me.”

He growled into you and muttered his response.

“I wanna make you cum on my face, first. I’ve been dreaming about it forever. After, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Mhm.”

Your head was swimming with all the ideas of what you could do to him. It pushed you even further towards your orgasm.

Logan was curling his fingers to repeatedly hit the same spot inside you and your legs started to shake. He could feel you tighten around his fingers, pulsing around him.

“Fuck, are you close? Please, c’mon, cum for me,” he pleaded in a desperate voice, still mumbling against your throbbing pussy. 

Hearing his voice beg for your release was enough for it to come, crashing over you in waves while you tugged on his hair to angle his mouth.

“Love you, I love how you touch me,” you confessed while catching your breath, “I’ve never been with anyone who’s been able to make me cum like that.”

Unfortunately, it was the truth. You’d been eaten out before, of course, but no one you had been with had actually thought about your needs in that way and if they did, they lick everywhere but where you wanted them. Logan was a different story. He’d eat you like you were the last thing he’d ever taste in his life. He buried his face in your pussy till you squirmed, as if he was starving. He worshiped the spot between your thighs - it was a privilege to even see you, never mind taste you. Tasting you on his tongue was something he’d been craving for so long.

“I love you,” he replied when he finally detached his mouth from your cunt, his chin and cheeks covered in you, “no one’s ever done that for you before?”

“Not till I came, no,” you answered kind of sheepishly.

He crawled up so he was above you again and kissed you, swirling his tongue in your mouth so you could taste yourself. 

“Get used to it,” he smiled and held himself up on his forearms, “I wanna do that every night.”

Your pussy was already throbbing again when he presented the idea. You were immediately lost in thought, imagining him between your thighs all over again, maybe while you’re sitting on your desk or riding his pretty face. You were brought back to reality when you felt the weight of Logan’s hard, leaking cock on your thigh. You looked down and raised your eyebrows.

“How are you hard again? Not that I mind.”

He laughed a little.

“Uh, you know the regenerative thing? It applies to all of me.”

“Wow,” you whispered unintentionally, “holy shit, am I lucky.”

“Nah,” he replied immediately, tenderly holding your face in one hand, “I’m the lucky one. I got the girl of my dreams in my bed.”

The more he sweet talked, the more you wanted to absolutely fuck him till you broke the bed frame.

“Logan?”

“Mhm.”

“Remember when you said you’d let me do whatever I want to you?”

He took a deep breath and nodded his head, almost shaking from the anticipation of being your toy.

“Lay on your back,” you commanded and he did so immediately. 

You caught the way his hard cock twitched when you swung your legs over his and straddled his hips, your cunt right behind where he needed you. You rolled your hips the slightest bit, moving yourself forward to graze his balls first. His hips jerked when you did and his hands instantly came to your hips and waist, kneading the flesh and gripping you so hard he might leave fingerprint bruises, ones you’d love to have because they were his. His hands slithered all around your body - your thighs, hips, waist, tits, neck, face, arms - in an attempt to memorize every bit of you. His favorite part of your body, if he was really forced to choose, would probably be your hips, tummy, and thighs. He loved how soft you were to the touch, how he could use your thighs or hips as something to grab onto. Still, this felt unreal to both of you. You never would’ve thought Logan would ever see you as more than a friend, so finding your panties in his room was like a fantasy come to life.

You inched yourself up a little further to finally settle yourself at the base of Logan’s cock, granting him the littlest bit of relief. 

“You’re gonna feel so good inside of me,” you told him. He was so big that you were sure he probably wouldn’t have to put in much effort to have you cumming around him again. You almost drooled thinking of how it would feel to sink down on him for the first time, how amazing it would feel for him to stretch you out and fill you completely.

He looked like he was in a daze, his eyes glued to you.

“I wanna make you cum again,” he confessed, “I don’t even care if I don’t, I fuckin’ love getting you off.”

That sentence alone could have had you leaking onto him before he even got himself in you.

“You’ll cum,” you promised, “I’ll be sure of it.”

He inhaled sharply and watched you grind your hips up to finally slide yourself up the length of his cock. He whined, a sound that was music to your ears, and used his grip on your hips to eagerly push and pull you back and forth.

“Careful, Kitty,” you cooed, “you’re gonna finish before we even start if you keep doing that.

He groaned, loud, so loud it almost startled you.

“Oh,” you held a smug grin, “you like when I call you that, don’t you?”

He ground his hips up into you and you gasped when he slid you over the tip of his cock and back again.

“Yeah, yeah,” he panted, “please, fuck me, please.”

You leaned down with your hands holding you up on either side of his head.

“Do you think you’ve been good enough to deserve it?”

He nodded frantically. You almost thought you saw tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

“I’ll - I’ll do fucking anything, need you so bad,” he begged and you couldn’t resist him when he looked so gorgeous underneath you - a tall, brooding, muscular guy like him absolutely pussy drunk the second he saw you naked.

You reached down to line him up with your entrance, keeping your eyes locked on his. His hands slid up and down your thighs and hips as you started to sink down onto him. Barely even in you, you could see Logan was practically trembling.

He slid his hands to the back of your neck so he could pull you down for a kiss, slow and passionate in a way that made your heart feel like it would burst. With his lips still on yours, you lowered your hips. He gasped into your mouth and his head rolled back before you’d even taken half of him.

“You’re so perfect,” you told him truthfully, whimpering when he bucked his hips up to push himself further into you.

“Look who’s talkin’,” he flashed a slight grin, his eyes trailing down your body.

You followed his gaze and realized he was staring at where he was almost completely filling you. You forcefully sunk yourself down to take the last few inches of him and his breathing became heavy.

“Feels good?” you asked and used a hand to hold his chin so he was forced to look at you. 

“More than that,” he panted, squeezing his eyes shut, “fucking amazing.”

“Open, look at me.”

He obeyed, hazel eyes glued to your features.

“Be a good boy for me, hm? Don’t cum until I say you can,” you instructed and started to slowly work your hips up and down.

He groaned loudly, whimpering and squeezing his eyes shut again.

“What’d I say?,” you grabbed his face again, “I said look at me, didn’t I?”

“F- mhm, you-you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he heaved, opening his eyes and gnawing in his bottom lip to try and keep them open. He wanted to stare, study and memorize every movement you made on top of him, but he knew watching you would only make it harder for him to keep himself from cumming. 

You started working up a steady pace while he kept his grip on your thighs. Logan was pushing his hips up every time yours came down, grunting and moaning.

“You feel so fucking good,” you told him truthfully, rolling your hips when he was fully inside you so that his patch of curly, short dark hair created friction against your swollen clit, “fill me up so well, baby.”

He could only let out a guttural moan, an intoxicating sound that matched the rhythm of his headboard hitting the wall. His mouth was hung open as he watched himself disappear inside of you over and over again.

“Aw, pretty kitty,” you delicately moved his hands above his head so you could interlace your fingers and hold his hands down, “you already look fucked out of your mind.”

His face and chest were flushed, sweat starting to dampen his hair. He watched your every move with a loving gaze. You both knew he could resist your attempt to hold him down easily - he just didn’t want to. It was the perfect angle, one where he could see your gorgeous face with your jaw hung open and your eyes on him.

“ ‘m yours, you know. Always - always have been,” he muttered between gasps as you sped up your pace.

“I’m yours too, Logan - you know that, right?” your smile was sweet, even while you were on top of him like that.

He couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore - the combination of your filthy words and beautiful body was going to send him over the edge if he didn’t try to concentrate on keeping himself from spilling into you.

“Ah, m-mhm,” he whined as a response.

You suddenly lifted your hips and let him slip out of you. 

“Words, baby,” you reminded him, “you have to a good boy for me if you want me to keep fucking you.”

His eyebrows were knitted together and his mouth opened as if he was almost in pain from not being inside you anymore.

“ ‘m good, i’m good, please - need to,” he was breathing hard and kneading your thighs.

“Need to what, baby?”

You knew exactly what you were doing and so did he. You wanted to hear him say it, hear him beg.

“Need to be in you,” he sighed, trying to catch his breath.

“I think I should make you work for it,” you told him, instantly having an idea of how he’d do it.

“Anything, I’ll do anything.”

“I know, sweetheart,” you were as smug as you could be “switch with me.”

You climbed off him and laid on your back, but not before you had a look at what a mess you’d made. The trimmed hair around his cock was clearly soaked, so much so that you could see the shine of what you left behind on his lower stomach - on that nice trail of hair that runs down into the front of his pants all the time.

“Fuck,” Logan swore under his breath when he saw what you had.

“Don’t get too worked up, kitty,” you held a mischievous smile and he tentatively crawled on top of you, his waist between your legs as he held himself up on his forearms. 

He grunted, “you’re still gonna call me that when I’m slammin’ into you?”

That sentence alone evoked a tingling feeling in the bottom of your stomach.

“Maybe once or twice,” you caught your bottom lip between his teeth, “but if you’re fucking me and I can still speak, you’ve gotta go harder.”

“Ugh,” he couldn’t help groaning - not out of disgust or annoyance, more so an expression of frustration for how badly he wanted to do that to you. He wanted to fuck you till you were speechless, maybe do so well for you that you’d leave a nice white ring around the base of his cock.

You reached down between your bodies to align him again and he slipped in immediately. Even with how wet you were, it was still a stretch. You locked your ankles at the small of his back, maybe out of instinct or to push him further into you - you weren’t sure. He tried to delicately fill you again, fearful that too much too soon could hurt you, but you pushed some of his sweat soaked hair off of his forehead and lovingly held his face in your hands.

“Go ahead, Logan, it’s okay,” you told him, knowing how much he loved to hear you say his name, “you’re not gonna hurt me.”

When he was fully inside of you, his hips flush with the inside of your thighs, he practically had you pinned to the mattress with his lower body. He buried his head in your neck while he slowly started to rock his hips. He was leaving wet kisses below your ear, biting and sucking your soft skin. You couldn’t help gasping and squirming, something that had encouraged Logan to pick up his pace.

“I-I don’t heal like you do,” you warned, “ those are gonna leave a mark.”

“Good,” he muttered against your neck.

You had your hands tangled in his disheveled hair and used your grip to tug his head up, hard enough to make him moan but not enough to really hurt him.

You were practically nose to nose while your hot breaths fanned each other’s faces.

“You wanna mark me up ‘cause I’m yours, huh?”

He hated how well you could read him. It may have been a blessing in disguise, though.

He growled and his nostrils flared, something you discovered you found incredibly hot. His eyebrows were furrowed and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked pissed. Except the noises he made for you proved just about the opposite.

“Mhm,” he heaved, “mine, all mine.”

That definitely built up the pressure in your stomach. You liked being the dominant one, but it was undeniably sexy when he took control.

“ ‘m yours,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck so you could kiss him. First, you actually kissed his cheek - you were so sweet sometimes that he felt like he would melt into you - then you pressed your lips to his. It was another hungry kiss, the kind that had your lips covered in each other's spit and left a string of saliva connecting your mouths when he pulled himself up. It was as if you were starving to eat each other.

“I love you,” he sighed, his hand grazing your cheek affectionately, “wanna be like this forever.”

“I - I love you too,” you choked out between whines and gasps for air as he knocked it out of you, “you feel even better that I thought you would.”

“Really?” he asked, kissing along your jaw, “you thought about that before?”

“So many times,” you admitted, “I figured you were big but Jesus.”

He groaned into your skin and held himself up again so he could look at your pretty face. You stared back, eyes traveling down his face and to the silver dog tags that hung around his neck. They swung back and forth with every snap of his hips. You wondered if he’d let you wear them some time so you could have his name around your neck and maybe have it dangle in his face the next time you were on top.

Logan kept his steady pace but it quickened when he could feel you using your legs around him to try and push him further into you. You knew the inside of your thighs would certainly be bruised from his hips slamming against you and it pushed you even closer to coming undone. He wrapped an arm under you as you were gasping his name and clawing at his back. He growled and cursed under his breath from hearing your pretty voice say his name over and over again. He had to make you cum first and soon because he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. 

He sat back on his knees and took you with him, using a firm grip to drag you down the mattress a bit and keep your legs on either side of him, all without slipping out of you. He kept the bottom half of your body laid on his lap, fucking you from a new angle that had your legs shaking. He hit that perfect spot inside of you over and over again when he thrusted his hips, feeling proud when he saw just how much you were enjoying it.You were gripping the sheets so hard that your fingernails were digging into your palms. 

“Fuck, you like that? ‘s good?” He slurred, his sweat making his irresistible body shine like he was a Greek fucking god.

You were speechless from how hard he was fucking you, pulling back and ramming his cock into you so hard that the headboard was slamming against the wall. 

“I-mhm,” you really did try to say something, anything, but all that came out was a high pitched moan.

“Guess ‘m doing it right then, if ya’ can’t talk” he muttered with a short laugh, referring to what you’d told him earlier. 

“M-mhm,” you hummed, eyes squeezed shut.

He started to trace slow circles around your clit, staring in awe at your swollen pussy. He leaned back a little and spat on it so he could spread his saliva all over your cunt.

“Oh, my god, L-Logan,” you gasped, feeling the pressure in your stomach build higher and higher.

“Need ya’ to cum on me,” he panted, his mouth hanging open as he watched your tits bounce with every thrust, “gotta feel it.”

“ ‘m gonna -“

“C’mon, baby, c’mon, please,” he begged, desperate to see you pulse around him.

His pleading words pushed you over the edge and you grabbed his arms, digging crescent shapes into his skin that disappeared in seconds. Your back arched and your eyes started to water as he worked you through your orgasm, his fingers staying exactly where they were.

“ ‘s too much, too - ah,” you whined and gasped while you weakly tried to push his hand away, but he only shook his head.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he told you, “jus’ one more - just wanna get one more outta you.”

You could feel a warm tear fall down the side of your face from the overstimulation. You were cumming again after a few swipes of his fingers. 

His thrusts became sloppier with every whimper of yours that echoed in the room and he came with a loud groan when he felt you spasm around him, leaning down to bury his face in your neck as he spilled into you.

“Love you so much,” he sighed into your skin, breathing heavily.

“I love you too,” you exhaled, pressing an innocent kiss to his cheek.

He sat up and slowly pulled himself out, watching a mix of his cum and yours drip out of you and onto the sheets.

“C’mere,” he panted, laying on his stomach and dragging your thighs to lock around his head.

“Logan, what are you d-”

Before you could ask what exactly he was doing, he shoved his tongue as far as he could inside of you, dragging it up and around your pussy, even the inside of your thighs.

“Fuck - ah,” you gasped and grabbed his hair, tugging every time he grazed your clit.

When he finally pulled himself off you, he wiped his cheeks and chin with the palm of his hand so he could lick it clean.

“Jesus christ,” you let out a short laugh.

“Just wanted to clean you up,” he explained, crawling back onto the bed to wrap his arms around you. 

You were both starting to nod off, much too exhausted to get dressed or clean the mess you’d made of his sheets. He kissed your shoulder, the back of your neck and the side of your face, pulling you as close as possible. Before you let exhaustion overtake you completely, you felt Logan mumble into your hair.

“I Iove you, sweetheart.”

You smiled wide, laying your arm over his.

“I love you, too.”

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

A/N: Thank you sm for reading!! pls like and reblog if u enjoyed :3 also, as always, I am still working on inbox requests <3

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 9 | stanley pines x f!reader 

Summary: stanley has a restless night in April, and comes to a (not) shocking realization. a continuation of year 5, particularly concerning dreams

warnings (TW): swearing, slight-panic, some suggestive content

tags: mutual-pining, fluff, action, affection

notes: short but purposeful part pls listen to meeeee // side note so sorry everyone me is going thru v big girl problems w jobs and moving so apologies for the shortness but i did almost put just as much time into it as usual (typical im a perfectionist till i die) but ya again thanks for the love, support, the comments, like omg did i ever think id actually be kinda cool online? No i never thought that. All the follows?? The messages?? Like yall are too kind omgggg <333 much love to everyone though!!! Hope you enjoy, and again if you’d like to be tagged just comment :) 

word count: 3.8k

| masterlist | 

April, 1987

He had moved his clothes into her dresser drawers come February. 

Actually she did, while he slept in her clean sheets and tucked into her nest of blankets. He had quickly fallen ill after he turned from blue to red in their bathtub that late January day. Despite this, he did not stop shivering for a solid two days, during which his Doc’ rushed to and from his bedside with new washcloths for his burning foggy head and with soup to flush out the heat of his body. 

Well, it was actually her bedside. 

His Doc’ made quite the Doc’ though. He remembers flashes of being sick as a child, of having his mother creep in through his childhood room’s doorway to brush her long fingers across his forehead. She never crowded, but she always would linger in the hallway, waiting to be called upon, their landline propped in her hand. His wife was quite the opposite though, she rushed in through doorways, pushed into his space, and spoke in much more frantic cadences. She tried to soothe but he could tell bedside manner was a foreign thing to her, and he didn’t blame her for that. It was quite endearing, how worried she was for his wellbeing. 

He was under the fog of a fevor for several days, and bedbound for the rest of the week fighting exhaustion. It was odd to wake without her visage by his side. A book propped in her lap, her fingers twined into the sheets and worrying over the cotton fabric. She routinely cleaned the room also, moving from shadowed corner to shadowed corner, checking for god knows what. He’d wake to her sometimes, pacing the room in the dark. She was not well when he was unwell. Didn’t know how to compartmentalize him disappearing in front of her, worried about his waning sanity and lightheadedness. 

But it went away by the turn of the week, and when he woke again it was February, and his Doc’ had worn away in his absence. He quickly turned the treatment to her, worried about her hunched posture and weak wrists. Her bags were deeper than ever and her clothes wrinkled from her continued pulling at them. A stack of books by her bedside chair and his clothes in her dresser drawers. 

He took it with some unknown grace, taking care of her. Found it natural to shoo her to bed and scold her to lie under her own cotton sheets. Smiling and goofing with her as he tucked her in extra tight. He had less of a habit of lingering though, coming and going with ease, carrying her new books and magazines from the mail. She’d read until her eyes grew tired again, and he’d come by the next hour to find her reading material propped against the bedsheets and her head drooping to her chest. 

Food was harder though, he’d admit he knew a select few things to actually make. The majority of them being breakfast foods, fast and easy. He hadn’t had a stable kitchen to cook in for over a decade before all this. He would peer over her shoulder during dinner at times, helping her chop things and adding spices here and there. But he couldn’t recall anything in the face of his worry, so he fed her breakfast foods for a solid week. Something she laughed at heartily, taking her plate from his flushed embarrassed self. 

She was more herself, more present in the waking world come the second week of February. She had more pep in her step and a wider smile than he remembers. She was more quick to affection and giggling in his presence. More keen to spend nights watching movies in front of the T.V., more eager to arrange herself beside him on the couch. More frequently put her head on his shoulder, more often than not peering up at him. Periodically reached for him now with open palms. 

He had pushed off the thought. The faded memory of the tub felt like a lifetime ago. The piercing humid water, the yellow fog of the bathroom, and her head crested into his chest. The way he trembled when he reached for her, the caress of his fingers against the apple of her cheek. The way she looked then, looked at him like there was a promise of salvation in the warmth of his lips against her cheek. He remembers the depth of the declaration they shared, something no longer unspoken between them. 

Except he believed it to be a fading dream in the turn of February. 

Thought it may be one of his stuttering dreams of having her close, those dreams where he took her in the confidence of her bedroom. Dreams where he folded her body into his because it meant something. Something sickly sweet about the dreams of them across the kitchen table, of the way a gold band glinted on her ring finger when she reached for him. In those dreams, he had memories of washing her, sharing baths and kisses, and car rides with music and laughter. One’s where he leaned over the middle of the long bench and kissed her and didn't think about the swerving of the car or the heat of her gaze. In those dreams it meant something, he thought it meant something, that he was her’s. 

It aligned with many a daydream-turned-nightmare he had had. Nightmares where she left, took what little she could call her own and disappeared in the fleeting of the night. Nightmares of her crumpled body and shaking voice, a violence he didn’t understand. It’d shake him awake and have him stumbling from doorway to doorway. To make sure she was there before anything else. 

But now he didn’t have to grasp doorframes and splintered wood to see her in the dead of the night. Because they had not parted since that January day, that day he swore when he woke in February must be a twisted figment of his own imagination. Only now, awake in the dead of the night in April could he swallow the truth of it all.

Stanley was not a calculating man. He did not think in fragments and pieces, and he was not one to quantify things in small details so much he worried himself into a stupor. That was more her forte, something he’d pull her out of on the regular. He thought in long-terms and wishes and aspirations. He reached for dreams and planned his life in accordance with past grudges. There were no calculations in the assurance that he had said was he said, said she was his. A breadth of possession he only thought attainable in those dreams he searched for. 

It burned him sometimes, to catch her looking. Forsook the thought he ever believed her longing for him to be a distant relic in his subconscious mind. She looked at him now most days, a clear edge in her eyes. The ones he had seen in dreams, a heat he memorized long ago. Something he swore he saw long ago. Something familiar, her eyes reminding him of fleeting dreams turned memory, of kisses in their car over the dash. The same edging heat he remembers. Where he called her his own, the memory that he thought was a tortuous dream for a solid fifteen days. 

The only time he counts, between folded cards on a poker table and days between dreams and her. His aspirations had shifted in a mere 1,735 days. Four years and some change since he had that dream turned memory, of her crawling heat upon his lap. Her teeth sunk into the crook of his shoulder. 

A shoulder she dug into now. Her head nestled into the junction of his arm every night since February. Something unspoken about the way they lived in each other's space now. Something inconsequential and flippant about sharing their warmth. 

At times it was difficult sharing this space. He would usually find relief in their departure from each other some nights, those nights she’d make for her bedroom doorframe alone were a distant memory. She’d drag his frame to the edge of her bed now, her shirt pooled around her bare legs, a pleading look in her eye when she rolled the blankets back and invited him in. A reminder of a dream. 

Partially why he was even awake now in the dead of the Spring night. Her warmth was inviting and it had awoken something eager in him. He would usually find some sort of… physical relief in the deep dark of night when he'd lie alone in his own bed. But his new bed had an extra guest who just happened to be the possession of many of his desires. Normally he would check, crawling to the edge of his bed to peer at her silhouette across the hall, ensuring that she was asleep. It would be a weight off his lower back after he concluded in relieving his frustrations that had built up throughout the day. Usually followed by the all too typical sense of guilt. Because she had been there when he closed his eyes. The waking version of his dream, just asleep across the hall. 

An accumulation of dire frustration pooled now at the bottom of his spine. To be so close to her, so familiar with the curve of her body along his own, but to not possess her in a more intimate way was hard. Frustrating, even. He wanted possession of her on a deeper level, a proof of concept to the edging of his lips along her cheek and the declaration on his tongue. He drept of kissing her now in the waking world also. Of tangling his body closer to her own, taking her in the confidence of her bedroom. Of their bedroom. He wanted to share more spaces with her over dashboards and bathtubs now. 

But he didn’t know how. She had him fumbling in that foolish teenage boy kind of way, despite his climbing age. He’d regret the time spent fussing over the smaller details like she always does. He wasn’t used to working in fragments and fractions of thoughts.

She had already been so overcome with the memory of still water she refused to leave his side. Had spilled her guts in the porcelain of the tub in January. He didn’t know what possessed him now to stutter around the thought of her. It would come to a precipice soon, one day. The feeling would possess him and he’d declare himself something more to her, ask for the lie shared between them to become a reality. Ask her to marry him before ever having uttered what real husbands tell their wives. Big words that would stumble from his mouth, the closest he’s ever been to obsession, having her folded into his body. Her warmth made him gooey and his lips loose and in the dead of the night he thought he would say it to her there. 

That he loved her. 

September, 1987

The summer passed as it usually did. Scattered memories shared between them now of evenings on their porch and nights spent tipsy in front of the T.V.

They danced between each other now. Warm hands met in the dark of the setting sun on the back porch most days. Her head deep within the crook of his shoulder each evening when they’d converge in front of the T.V. Warmth shared between them in the dead of the night, blankets moving off the bed in the heat of the summer. He’d lean into it all now, too. Linger his lips along her forehead and laugh more readily in her presence. Their eyes would meet most days now, an amusement shared between them both in their hesitancy to break any tension. 

She was not keen to leave his presence in the slightest these days, either. She had trouble in doorways and dark hallways. Didn’t like turning over her shoulder line to look for him. Followed him into rooms and up the stairs now. She hadn’t let him disappear from her site since February, since she became so ill with her worry all she could do was skim books and wait for him to return in between consciousness.  

He did not shake her from this fear of hers. He walked away with some of his own. Remembering the cool seeping into his lungs, the choking of water in his throat. Remembering the height at which he emerged from the dark ice. The height he had fallen from the beasts’ maw had frightened him beyond reason, almost more than the dark of the water. The water was familiar to him at least, but the height at which his head cracked against the ice had him waking from falling dreams at times. He was sure if she hadn’t surged forward that day to embed the ax into the beast's neck he would have fallen from an even higher height. That he may have been dead. 

So he understood, her need for his visage to be within eyesight. Understood waking dreams and following him through doorways now. But dreams were dreams and they couldn't live in technicalities. She loved technicalities though, she thought in fragments and of far-off realities that would never be. She was imaginative in the worst way, in the worrying way. 

Which was why she looked oh so small in the passenger seat today, the looming elementary school sitting right behind her. School was starting, and she was going to be away all day. 

They had not separated in quite some time, even before the whole January turned February turned dream turned reality. They separated between walls and hallways, but usually, not even doors got between them. Doors felt like a trap to him even to this day, something she understood inherently. 

“Ya gotta go Doc’.” He hummed, reaching for her hand now. Something he didn’t hesitate to do, his palm faced up. 

She breathes, nodding. Her foot tapping away at the car floor, her bulging bag held to her front. She allowed him to reach for her, meeting him in the middle of the long bench. Her fingers cresting over and playing with his own. “I know, I know, I know.” 

She keeps nodding, her hand reaching for her chest again. Rubbing along her heart in a self-soothing way. She had been doing that all morning, since breakfast. 

He had pushed off opening the shack, wanting to drop her off that morning for her first day. She had been so eager when she found the application to be a teacher’s assistant tucked into the back of the newspaper’s classifieds late last year. She was set to help out in a crowded first-grade classroom that day. Something she had been so eager to do. Before she remembered the balm to her anxieties would be far from her reach. 

It had been hard, the thought of leaving him all day. She had laughed when she applied, thinking about how Stanley would pout at her across the kitchen table every morning during the school year. How he’d wait for her to come home, dreamed of him needing her. But in a weird twist of fate, it would be her, her watching the clock in the coming hours. Waiting for his figure to crest back over the horizon line, to greet her in the warmth of the car and joke with her all the way home. 

God, she would miss him. She hadn’t been parted from him since she burst through the shack’s front door. Since she wandered in through the doorway like a mad woman, taken by his image even then. 

It was even harder now, the thought of him disappearing in murky black water was the centerpiece of dark thoughts these days. The edge of all her anxieties since January. She didn’t want to part from him, because what if something happened to him in her absence? What if he went somewhere she could not follow?  

She knew the fear was misplaced. Knew Stanely would not disappear from her forever. He would go about his day much the same way he had all summer. He’d get dressed, put on his father’s hat, and give tours and swindle eager mothers all day. The tourists had flooded in out of town early this season, eager for the northern fall colors that would soon seep into the treeline around their home. 

Despite knowing this, her heart would not stop. Anxious about having him drive so far from her. Did he know? Know she needed his soothing presence? Know that the root of all her anxieties surrounded him most days now? 

He did of course, he read her mind in a greater capacity than ever in the last couple of years. Knew her tells from the change of her face and the grip of her hand. Knew her playing with his fingers was a distraction and her scrunched brow spoke of the restless night she had beside him. 

“Hey, look at me.” He takes her chin now, moving her head from the dash to him. His dark eyes were warm in the very early morning light. Kids would be here soon, flooding into the hallways, and she was supposed to be there to greet them. He knew she wanted this, so eager at the thought of teaching and helping. She had been planning activities and how to best introduce herself to six-year-olds for weeks now. She wanted this, but it came at the cost of splitting, splintering their shared connection for a day. 

“You can do this honey. I know you can.” He looks so sure at her, his head tilted and a smile creeping onto his face. “Do you know why I know that?” 

She hums. “Why?” 

“Because you’re smart.” He nods, continuing, despite her scoff. “And you’re good, and you’re patient, and you’re kind, and you’re warm.” 

She laughs. “Warm?” 

“Ya, warm. You got that face on ya’, kids will approach you at random I know it. Got that glow about you. You’re pretty like that.” His hand reaching now to brush some hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. 

She heats up beside him, back suddenly straight. “Pretty?” 

“You heard me.” He laughs too, like he’s known it forever, thought it forever. Like he was recounting the morning newspaper comics to her. Like it amused him that she didn’t know. That he thought she was pretty. 

She breathes. That might just get her through the day. Maybe through the month. That and the hot streak along her cheek to her ear. His hand warm as he pulls her across the middle of the long bench. He bends her into him, practiced from a dream turned reality from a time before. Drags his lips along the apple of her cheek, his scruff rubs against her. His lips warm along her, a heated path from her cheek to her ear again as he whispers between them. 

“Pretty, angel.” 

It catches her breath now when he calls her that. He does it at the most opportune times now. “Honey” made her heart beat fast and her face flush, but “angel” made heat gather below her stomach. Resurfaced a dream from long ago of his weight above her and his lips so close to her jugular it makes her gasp at the memory of it. He only says it, angel, when they are close now. When she is tucked into his shoulder on the couch or in the early birdsong of morning, their arms and chests tangled together. 

It always makes her surge, makes her more alert. Made her think of far-off dreams of wedding bands and kids she swore were her own. That’s what she wanted to remember from those nightmares, at least. What she reached for in her current reality. She wasn’t used to working in dreams and long-gone wistful thinking though. But she’d try, try to be braver in the waking world. 

So she nods, breaking from his warmth. A beginning bell broke her from the trance of his eyes and the warmth of his big warm hands. He was still in his jeans and a rumpled t-shirt, hair a mess on the crown of his head. She hoped he’d stay the same when he returned. That he’d look just like this to her. 

She sighs, reaching for her bag, shuffling papers deep into the overflowing open zipper at the top. She turns back to him, reaching for his hand now, palm warm against him as she brings his hand to her lips unthinking. Holding his hand close to her face, cupping it, cradling her face in its warmth. 

“Goodbye, Mr. Pines.” 

He laughs, but she doesn’t miss the rise of redness to the tips of his large ears.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Pines.” 

She reaches for her door, opening it herself for the first time since meeting him. He yells, “Wait!” Rushing from his seat and the idling parked car to run along the front of the car, reaching and opening her door for her. A funny flourish to his hand, and a fake bow as she folds and steps out of the car. 

He closes the door promptly, outstretching his arms to actually encase her, to actually say goodbye to her now. Her hands along the expanse of his back, fingers crooked into the collar of his shirt. He sighs again, letting go of the warmth between them. His head still tucked forward, his lips greeting the curve of her hairline. Whispering along her head, “Goodbye for now.” 

She sighs again, shoulders slumped and bag hefty along her back. “Goodbye for now.” 

It’s the hardest thing, to turn from him. But the rush of children now seeping into the school reminds her she’s at least five minutes late for her very first day. For her very first actual job since working alongside Stanford. It makes the doubt turn in her veins, only reassured by the shadow of him behind her. 

And when she turns there, searching over her shoulder line he’s still there, leaning against the car, like he had been waiting for her to turn again.  Firm and whole and handsome and hers entirely. Reminds her of a faint dream when he waves again, a glint she swore was on his finger. A golden band she remembers and a promise he swore of never leaving her again, not like that.

She thinks to say it then, entirely loud and brief between their distances. Thinks of phrases whispered close to her ears and folded into her arms. A familiarity in the sentiment, but entirely foreign on her tongue. Something unspoken between syllables she cannot voice now, standing at the entrance to the small school. Taken by his image, has words almost stumbling out of her mouth like a mad woman. 

She thinks to tell him then and there, that she loves him. 

[theautisticwriter]

Love Letters: Yandere! Helluva Boss characters X G/N Reader

Characters- Blitzø, Moxxie, Millie, Loona, Stolas, Asmodeus, Fizzarolli

Show- Helluva Boss

Genre- romantic, yandere

Summary- Mini love letters from your not so secret stalkers admirers!

Warnings- swearing, pet names, yandere themes, mentions of planned kidnapping, stalking, delusional characters, unwanted attention

Word count- 1.5K

Extra notes- I have a Hazbin Hotel version of this uploaded as well!

key: f/l = first letter of your name, y/n = your name, n/n = your nickname

———————————————————

By this point you know who it is y/n, I’m the only person COOL enough to send u romantic as fuck letters like the old people do

Sorry for eating the food u made last night, when i was raiding ur fridge it looked so fucking good (and it was, who knew u could cook :P). i left u a pony as a replacement, u can’t eat it but it’ll make u think of me ;) and that pony cost me a FUCK ton of money, collectors addition and shit. i know, bad fucking ass right??

the stupid shitty loud alarm u installed didn’t work when i came in, ud be much safer with me and loony. that’s the plan anyways babe, u have NO idea the fucking creeps that live down here, they’re all fucking animals and ur…not, a fucking asshole i guess.

i drew you smth (it’s the thing stuck on the back of the envelope with the glitter glu)

^glue

it’s me and u holding hands, like other couples do. we’re better than those corny fuckers tho, hence the crowns on our heads.

ignoring my texts, BLOCKING ME (still upset about this BY THE WAY) and then ignoring my very nice letters is kinda a dick move f/l, but it’s whatevs. everything is almost ready for ur move in. i cleaned up n everything :D

from the only bitch worth ur time,

blitzø

&lt;3 (ignore that, moxxie threw a gun at me and my hand slipped, might fire him)

———————————————————

Hiya sweet cheeks!!!

It’s Mills here, just checking in! Via letter! Ain’t that just the fanciest little thing? Mox said it’s the best way to show thought and care to someone, so here’s all my thoughts and care, just for you!

How’ve you been? Good I hope, I’ve been just peachy thanks for asking! My Ma and Pa are super excited to meet ya one day, they’ve even started planning the wedding! Now I told them to slow their horses down, and not the overwhelm ya, we’ll get to that don’t you worry darlin.

Im just so excited to write this letter for you! Ain’t it so romantic?? I’m practically squealing in delight at the thought of you opening this and swoonin’, that’s what you’re doing, right?

Now i’m writing this on my break, and my boss really needs me back in the game! I got employ of the month! Most amount of kills, with the best and bloodiest results baby!

Until next time sweetheart,

Your Mills! ♡

———————————————————

Hi y/n,

It’s Moxxie here, I was a little nervous to send this letter to you, but I always try to follow my heart, and my heart was telling me to communicate with you in the most romantic way I know how due to our current circumstances of being so far away. It’s hard, for the both of us i’m sure, but we’ll be okay y/n.

As much as I don’t get along with my father, he has been helpful with my preparations for your arrival. It’s a big deal, moving in together. I’m sure your anxious, I am too, but in the best way possible. Love is pure, and can make somebody feel whole, it’s a wonderful feeling. I never want that to be taken away from me, and you are the source of all my love. That’s why we need to be together, being only half a demon isn���t good for the soul.

We can do lots of fun things together as well, like go to the opera, or to musicals, or I can show you my shooting skills. My boss says that I have a pretty good shot, which is the biggest compliment he’s ever given me. And we can do things you like too, marriage is equal of course. Obviously, this will all happen later done the line, you’ll need time to adjust, and I understand that. I understand you.

I’m running out of room on my page, but I will write to you again tomorrow. Please respond? Just once, y/n? It’d be nice, to hold something from you since I can’t hold you yet.

All my love,

Your Moxxie <3

———————————————————

Uh, hi?

Wait, you don’t put ‘uh’ in letters do you? Or put wait whilst you think, fuck shit fuck

Sorry, I’m new to this. Normally I just send a text to people but, your phone is off at the moment I think? Or you lost it? Or you blocked me?

Either way, I’ll send you these stupid letter things until it’s back on. So, uh, what are you up to? Blitz has been up my ass about meeting you, heads up, when I come get you and bring you to our room he’s gonna go all psycho dad mode and integrate you, but he’ll back off after a while. He’s a dick sure, but he does want me to be happy. And your, likeable or whatever, so i’m sure you’ll get along.

Once you get comfortable at home with me, Blitz said you could work with me at I.M.P. You’ll be like the co-secretary or something. You won’t be put in danger, I won’t let that happen, you’ll just get to sit with me. We can watch things together, if you wanted.

I guess i’ll see you soon, how do you end these?

See you,

Love from,

Regards?

Bye y/n,

Loona.

———————————————————

My dearest y/n,

I hope this letter finds you well. I yearn for your presence here, besides me. It’s quite lonely without you, I will admit my dear. It would be oh so wonderful if you could write back. I understand you may be preoccupied with your current activities, but I can’t help myself from desiring a response. I know, it’s selfish of me to expect you to reply to my letters when you’ll be here with me shortly, but I can’t keep my thoughts at bay at the moment.

Your face is a constant in my mind, night and day, asleep and awake, your voice in my mind calms me when I need it most, your smile brightens the bleariest of moments and so on. You can imagine the difficulties I’m facing with no response from you, but that’s alright. If you can’t write back to me dear, I won’t pressure you. Your time is precious, and we will have all the time in hell quite soon. Isn’t that exciting?

I can give you the life you deserve n/n, any luxuries or mundanities you wish for will be handed to you on a silver platter. Or a golden one, if that’s more to your liking? We can properly discuss the specifics once we are together. How thrilling, the though of you and I together at last.

We truly are written in the stars!

Yours until the end of the sky and then some,

Stolas.

———————————————————

Hey there baby,

It’s been a while, huh? I’m sorry if you feel neglected babe, it’s so hard keeping in contact with you when you’re so far away hun. Wouldn’t it be so much better if you were here with me? Sure I’ve got a lot of meetings, being a sin and all, but I’d be at your beck and call n/n, you could even be my new excuse to leave those awful “business” discussions. They barely talk business with me, it’s just complete bullshit babe.

I know the lust ring can be intimidating, we have quite the reputation, but I assure you, love is not a foreign concept to me. Romance is one of my most favourite things! Though that’s a secret, let’s keep that between us, yeah? That side of me is reserved for you n/n.

It’s so boring over here without you, I feel like i’m just lounging around and last time I checked, I was the lust sin, not the sloth sin. We’d have so much fun together babe! Can’t you picture it? Even if you can’t yet, I can wait. Having you near me will be enough, you are enough just as you are.

Sincerely yours,

Asmodeus (Ozzie) xoxo

———————————————————

Heya cutie!

Letters are a lot harder to write than I thought they’d be y’know? I’ve rewritten this like 16 times already, sheesh. It just feels so awkward, I can’t see your reaction to my words which means I can’t fix any mistakes I’ve made :(. I’m sure I haven’t made any though! Right? This letters going really well so far and is definitely wooing you, right, y/n?

Hah, I’m asking questions as if you can reply right away. Silly old me, I don’t know what i’m worrying about! We’re meant to be together. I know it’s super sappy, but we’re like soulmates. Soulmates are bound to be together! That’s why I’m bringing you home soon, I can’t wait! I’ve got sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo many awesome tricks to show you!

And, the best news, I quit my job!! ༘⋆-ˋˏ ༘⋆-ˋˏ This means, we will have a LOT more time with each other, and you don’t have to worry about Mammon being possessive over me, because fuck him! I’m my own clown! Or, well, your clown.

I can’t wait to see you! This is going to be great for us, I pinky promise :P

Love from,

Fizzarolli !!!! ༘⋆!!,-!ˋˏ!!!

———————————————————

[haespoir]

cave me in: mkl.

⨯ pairing: plug!mark x reader

⨯ word count: 1.3k 

⨯ summary: haechan introduces you to his dealer friend, and mark lee makes it so hard to keep the relationship strictly business. not that you minded anyways. 

⨯ warnings: mentions of drugs (weed), some suggestive content, i think thats it enjoy :3

⨯ playlist: cave me in, gallant / half moon, dean / wfm, realestk 

⨯ extra content: part two

⨯ a/n: im completely normal about mark lee i swear ty @markonthemoon​ for furthering my completely normal feelings about mark lee... there might be a part two. 

. . . 

It had been at least 3 hours since you had picked up edibles from Mark. Three whole ass hours, and yet he was still laying on his bed feeling less than whole. Who did you buy them for? Were you getting high with someone else? Was it a guy? 

The first time Haechan had introduced you to him he didn’t pay it any mind. You were a close friend of the younger male’s situation-ship… Whatever the fuck that was. But it was no more than that in his eyes. You were someone who occasionally bought from him, and you were always so polite about it too. And for some unknown reason, or at least unknown to him, that bothered him. A few weeks later, a not-so-sober conversation with Haechan revealed that Mark had a crush on you. One he denied vehemently. Though he guessed out of everyone he sold to, you were the most ideal to date. 

Who the fuck said anything about dating? 

Mark shakes his head as if to rid himself of such wild thoughts. “I’m just hungry,” he says to himself, thinking of ways he could fill that empty void in his stomach. If only he knew, there was no amount of food that would help him feel whole. He grabs his phone, shooting a quick text to someone who knew would also be high at this time. 

mark [11:48 pm]: ramen?  jungwoo [11:50 pm]: and netflix?  jungwoo [11:50 pm]: mark… are you asking me to hook up?  jungwoo [11:51 pm]: say less baby i’m otw!  mark [11:53 pm]: dude what mark [11:53 pm]: no, just ramen  jungwoo [11:55 pm]: mark lee you want me so bad  mark [11:57 pm]: hurry before i change my mind

Jungwoo’s texts cause Mark to roll his eyes, but he grabs his keys. “Yo, Haechan,” he calls out, peeking into the male’s LED-lit room. On his monitor, he sees a discord call and what he believes is your profile picture. Why were you on call with him? “I’m going get ramen with Zeus, want anything?” 

“Nah, I’m going over to my girl’s in a bit,” Haechan replies, smoothly muting the call as he gives his roommate his attention. “I’ll just see you in the morning?” Mark hums, and he’s out the door quickly. He doesn’t want to even think about the relationship between you and Haechan, not when there’s a green little monster creeping through his veins. 

Once Haechan is sure Mark is gone, he’s unmuting the call. “Personally, I think he’s into you.” 

Though he can’t see it, you’re rolling your eyes. “Haechan, you’re just saying that. You’re tired of me third wheeling?” 

“Listen... Your words, not mine, sweetheart,” he says simply. 

“Whatever dude,” you sigh, rolling onto your side on your bed. “Have fun with your shawty. I’m going to sleep.” 

“Just ask him to smoke you out or something,” Haechan says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. “I’m leaving.” 

You hear the noise of him leaving the call before you can even reply, and you’re once again rolling your eyes. You didn’t understand how your friend was into Haechan. What a fucking brat. 

I mean, you can’t just ask someone to smoke you out, right? Isn’t that something that’s offered? You groan loudly at the thought, locking your phone and tossing it on the floor. “Fuck you, Haechan,” you think bitterly. Why the hell did he have to put that godforsaken idea in your mind? 

Because the idea doesn’t leave your mind for weeks after that night. Every time you buy from Mark, you find it harder and harder to deny your attraction to the male. His actions don’t help much either. In fact, you’re convinced you’re delusional. There was no other reason. 

You had mentioned you liked rice krispie treats, and suddenly Mark has rice krispie treat edibles. With extra marshmallows no less.  

One time you heard your friends complaining that Mark had increased his prices. Which was odd because you were spending less on weed than you ever had before. Maybe they were just buying more? 

Or sometimes there’s a small baggie of only the clear gummy bears with the things you buy from him. It’s not like you had told him that the only valid flavor of gummy bears was the clear ones. 

These things weren’t just coincidences, right? Or were they? Haechan also liked marshmallow treats, so maybe they were for him. You had taken a liking to edibles, so you weren’t smoking as much as you used to. Meaning you were spending less money anyways. And Mark said that he liked the red gummy bears the most, so surely, you were just getting the ones he didn’t like. 

You let out a loud groan, ignoring the call from Haechan on Discord. Instead, you opt to shove your face into your pillow before letting out a small scream. Mark Lee was driving you absolutely crazy. 

Perhaps if you picked that call up, the text messages that flashed on your screen 30 minutes later would not have sent you into the panic that they did. 

mark [12:20 am]: yo mark [12:20 am]: i got a new strain  mark [12:20 am]: let me smoke you out? 

Maybe Haechan wasn’t a brat, and maybe you would thank him for this at your wedding years later. But none of that matters when Mark Lee is asking to smoke you out. 

you [12:29 am]: uh yea you [12:29 am]: my place?  mark [12:32 am]: say less mark [12:32 am]: i’ll bring your favorite gummies

He does bring them, and he does smoke you out. Which is why you find yourself in the position that you do. You’re sitting on the floor in your living room, your cheek pressed against Mark’s knee as he sits on your couch. You swear he looks perfect from this angle; his hair is pushed back by a headband he had stolen from you a few days ago, claiming he thought it was like a personal head massage device. You can see the way his eyes are slightly red, and you’re sure yours look exactly like his. Most importantly, his neck is on display, and you want to do nothing more than mark it up. It takes everything in you to not climb into his lap and do exactly that. 

“You look like a puppy,” Mark says, running his fingers through your hair, stopping when he reaches your ear. He’s rubbing small circles on your earlobe with this thumb, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. “My puppy.” 

God, Mark Lee was dangerous. Absolutely lethal. You groan at his words, pressing your face into his thigh to hide away from him. Unfortunately for you, this has the opposite effect, and there is no such thing as hiding from him. The sight of you nearly burying your face into his lap like this does wonders for Mark’s confidence. 

“Come here.” It’s a demand from him, and it’s one that you quickly listen to as he guides you to straddle his lap. In this new position, Mark’s hands quickly go to your thighs; the grip he has is almost bruising. But you don’t mind it, not when Mark’s got his head resting on the back of your couch and he’s staring at you in a way that makes you nervous. 

“Sorry for making you wait,” he says, and you’re feeling a bit confused. “Haechan might have given me a hint or two.” 

The confusion is gone quickly; you were going to strangle that kid. 

Mark laughs at the look on your face, easily reading the emotions as if you were an open book to him. “Don’t think about it, we’ve got a lot of time to make up for.” 

And when Mark Lee presses a kiss against your jaw, his hands traveling under your shirt, you know you’re done for. 

[halucynator]

False Fronts IV

part 4 of 4

angst version.

i am absolutely owing my life to @berryzxx bc this bitch (/pos) has given me all my ideas like this wouldn't even exist if it weren't for her also sorry for how late this is?!? i had writers block and then i was packing up to leave uni and go back home woohoo sorry if i accidentally made it third person halfway through bc im stupid

sorry for the wait hope this makes up for it!! didn't wanna release angst and fluff at too different times bc i don't hate you people

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings: angst angsty angst angst gut wrenching heart breaking angst, arguments (oohOOHOoH) swearing, not so fake dating (but are they?), the and y/n being idiots, not a happy ending, not proof read (as usual) and my writing

summary: being asked to fake date someone to get a petty ex off their back is the worst possible way of being friend-zoned. you, however, were willing to take any chances to get as close as you could to theodore nott.

im not that mean, the fluffy version can be found here.

once again these beautiful dividers have been created by @cafekitsune!! you can find these exact dividers in a wider range of colours here!

word count: 1.7k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4: fluff

The tension between you and Theo had been brewing for days, each passing moment adding weight to the unspoken emotions that hung heavily in the air. Unable to bear the silence any longer, you initiated the conversation, the frustration and confusion evident in your voice.

"Theo, can we talk?" you asked, your voice tinged with a mix of apprehension and determination.

He glanced up from his book, an unreadable expression flickering across his face. "Sure, what's up?"

"It's about us," you began cautiously, the words feeling heavier than you'd anticipated. "I feel like there's something here, between us. But I'm confused about where you stand."

Theo's expression flickered, a fleeting mixture of uncertainty and conflict clouding his features. "I don't know if diving into a relationship right now is the best idea."

"But this isn't just about a relationship," you insisted, your voice rising in exasperation. "It's about acknowledging what's been brewing between us, Theo."

He sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "I'm not sure what I want, Y/N. It's complicated."

"Complicated?" You scoffed, the frustration simmering within you. "What's so complicated about being honest?"

"Why can't you understand?" Theo's voice rose, mirroring your frustration. "I don't want to mess things up and end up causing you pain."

"You're not getting it!" Your voice echoed in the charged atmosphere. "I need to know where we stand, and your indecision isn't helping."

Theo's reluctance grated on your nerves, fueling the intensity of the argument. "I need you to be honest with me, Theo. I can't keep waiting for something that might never happen!"

"I know, but I'm conflicted," he admitted, his tone wavering.

Frustration boiled within you. "Conflicted about what? Us?"

His gaze shifted away, a mix of guilt and concern clouding his features. "I... I don't want Jess to hurt you."

"I can handle Jess, she isn't your responsibility," you asserted firmly, the frustration simmering beneath your words.

"You don't get it, do you?" Theo's voice cut through the tension, edged with frustration. "She's MY ex."

His words stung, and the heat of the argument intensified. "And that gives you the right to dictate what's good for me?" you shot back, your voice rising in indignation.

"Look, I'm just trying to protect you," Theo retorted, his tone laced with urgency.

"Protect me? From what?" Your voice rose, the frustration boiling over. "I can handle my own affairs, Theo. I don't need you deciding what's best for me!"

The tension crackled between you, each word spoken a testament to the underlying emotions that had escalated into a heated argument. The clash of opinions and conflicting desires hung heavily in the charged atmosphere, leaving the potential relationship teetering on the edge of uncertainty. The anticipation in the room was suffocating.

Days stretched into weeks, and the awkward distance between you and Theo became the new norm. Despite the avoidance, every accidental encounter sent a rush of conflicting emotions through you. Butterflies danced in your stomach, a bittersweet reminder of the connection you once shared, now lost in a fog of misunderstanding.

Each time your paths crossed, the unresolved tension simmered beneath the surface. The silent longing for resolution battled with the ache of hurt and confusion, leaving you caught in a turmoil of emotions whenever Theo came into view.

The avoidance hadn't dulled the effect he had on you. His presence was still magnetic, drawing your attention despite the unspoken rift that divided you both. The simple sight of him evoked a rush of emotions, a testament to the bond you once shared and the rift that now tore you apart.

With every passing moment, the yearning for clarity clashed with the fear of confronting the situation, leaving you entangled in a web of unresolved emotions and unspoken apologies, the butterflies a painful yet undeniable reminder of the connection you couldn't seem to sever.

Summoning your courage, you approached Theo's dorm, determined to offer an overdue apology. A hesitant knock resulted in eerie silence. Unsure of Theo's whereabouts, you glanced around the deserted hallway, your resolve mingling with uncertainty.

Taking a tentative step forward, you reached for the doorknob, finding it unlocked. The decision to enter felt both intrusive and necessary. The room was devoid of life, the emptiness echoing the void that had developed between you and Theo.

Your gaze drifted to Theo's desk, where a single piece of paper lay. The handwriting was unmistakable, sending a jolt of emotions through you as you read the words:

Last night was so fun, so glad you dropped Y/N.

- Jess

Disbelief and a pang of deception ricocheted through you. The words were like a gut punch, shattering the fragile hope you had held for reconciliation and understanding. Confusion clouded your thoughts as you grappled with the apparent evidence before you.

Your mind raced, attempting to process the meaning behind Jess's note. It seemed to confirm your worst fears, undermining the fragile trust you had in the situation and leaving your heart aching with the weight of assumed betrayal.

With tear-filled eyes and a heavy heart, you turned away, the intention of offering an apology now replaced by a swirl of hurt. The unaddressed misunderstanding had taken root, poisoning the hope for amends and leaving you in a cloud of uncertainty and hurt.

Approaching Theo with a determined stride, you took a deep breath before speaking. "Can we talk?" you requested, your tone indicating the urgency of the matter.

Theo nodded, a mix of apprehension and curiosity in his eyes. "Sure, what's up?"

Without further ado, you gently pulled Theo out into the corridor, seeking a bit of privacy before diving into the conversation. "What's going on?" you asked, urgency evident in your voice.

Theo's brow furrowed in response, confusion evident in his expression. "What do you mean?"

In response, you reached into your pocket, retrieving the note. Holding it up for Theo to see, you arched an eyebrow, your gaze fixed on his face.

"What's this?" Theo questioned, puzzled.

"You tell me," you replied, your tone laced with a hint of accusation and urgency.

Theo's eyes widened as he caught sight of the note, a mix of shock and confusion crossing his features. "I… I don't know," he stammered, genuine bewilderment resonating in his voice.

The weight of the moment hung heavily between you, the note acting as a stark reminder of the rift that had developed. A tense silence pervaded the corridor, each passing moment thick with unspoken tension, the truth seemingly just out of reach.

Amidst Theo's genuine confusion and your distress, the mystery behind the note remained unsolved, leaving both of you ensnared in a cloud of uncertainty and doubt, the truth obscured by a veil of suspicion.

Holding out the note for Theo to see, you watched his expression closely as he read it. His eyes widened in surprise, confusion etched across his features. "She sent you that?" he asked, incredulous.

"What? No!" you responded quickly, a mix of frustration and confusion in your voice. "She sent it to you. It was in your room."

The implication that Jess had sent the note only added to the confusion between you and Theo.

heo's eyes flickered from the note to your face, disbelief written across his features. "I've never seen this before," he stated firmly, his voice tinged with confusion.

"Well, yeah, I took it," you admitted, the tension in the air palpable.

His brows furrowed in surprise. "Wait, you were snooping around in my dorm?" Theo's voice betrayed a mix of shock and frustration, his focus narrowing on your admission.

"What? That's what you're focused on?" you retorted, a touch of exasperation coloring your tone. The accusatory tone caught you off guard, adding to the already tumultuous conversation.

"Jess is obviously trying to screw up our relationship," Theo retorted, a trace of agitation and concern lacing his words.

"Or maybe you're just making up excuses. How about that, huh?" The words escaped your lips, edged with annoyance and simmering anger, as you grappled with the ease of his denial.

"What exactly are you accusing me of?" Theo's voice held a note of incredulity, his expression a mix of confusion and concern.

"Right now, I am accusing you of sleeping with her and cheating on me," you declared, the accusation spilling out in frustration and hurt.

"Wow, you really don't trust me, huh?" Theo's voice held a note of hurt, his expression a mix of disappointment and irritation.

"Currently, I don't," you admitted, your voice tinged with a hint of regret and exasperation.

"Well, If you can't trust me, I can't be with you," Theo replied, his tone laced with a touch of resignation and hurt.

The weight of the situation settled heavily between you, the conversation having taken an unexpected turn. Hurt and distrust hung like a veil, casting a shadow on the once-promising connection between you and Theo.

"Wait, are you breaking up with me?" The words stumbled out, your voice heavy with dejection, a lump forming in your throat.

"Well, you know what? Maybe Jess was right. We weren't really dating," Theo's voice held a trace of sorrow, the admission heavy with a crushing finality.

The realization sank in, the weight of his words like a sharp dagger through your heart. A shroud of sadness enveloped you, the abrupt end of something you thought was real leaving you feeling hollow and shattered.

In the deafening silence that followed, a heavy sadness settled upon you, your heart aching with the bitter sting of a relationship unraveled by doubt and mistrust.

"I'm sorry y/n. I really did try." Theo replies.

"Oh. So this is it then."

"Bye y/n."

"Goodbye," escaped through clenched teeth, a silent echo reverberating through every fiber of your being, each syllable a struggle against the strain of every muscle in your body.

And there you stood, the sudden and sharp cessation of what might have been, seeping into your core. It left you standing in the haunting echoes of a love's demise, surrounded by the desolate remnants of something once cherished.

hi hello! this is the end of the series. check out the fluffy ver here if you'd like!! here are a few fics to read while i work on my next one:

masterlist

reader's choice (mattheo x reader)

reader's choice (theodore x reader)

i honestly had so much fun writing this thank you for sticking along with this <33 sorry for how late this is i was like so busy and im also lazy so yea

taglist: @hisparentsgallerryy @jetblackpayne @delulu4marauders @ahead-fullofdreams

if you want to be added to my theodore/any other character's taglist just send me an ask/dm!

[uceyliyahh]

SOMETHING BOUT’ US

Summary: "I want you more than anything in my life." After being in a difficult relationship with Carmelo Yasmine decided to move on from him and become the next big thing while getting drafted on the smackdown roster she always thought she would never find love again due to her commitment issues until she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 4150

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Yasmine

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @lov3rla03 @simpin4pixels

3.

OMNISCIENT For some weeks now, Yasmine has been receiving calls and texts from Carmelo under strange numbers, and she has simply blocked him each time. Especially when Trick attempted to contact and text her, she would disregard all of his messages because she no longer trusted him. He believed Carmelo over her, of all people.

Yasmine was at the gym working out, trying to forget what had happened to her; she hadn't spoken about it since Montez and Jonathan arrived to pick her up after she moved out.

She didn't even want to think about it; it would just cause her anxiety to creep up on her and make her feel even more worthless than she already is.

Yasmine would be drowning in her thoughts late at night, wondering if she'd ever find a good man that she could trust, but was that even possible?

She wore headphones and listened to music while she did her bicep roll reps with the dumbbells before she went to the arena today to sign the contract on Smackdown.

Meanwhile, she felt her phone buzzing inside her training shorts as she paused to place the dumbbells on the bench and took her phone out of her pocket.

She noticed Montez had texted her, probably to check up on her.

Big Bro Tez💪🏽 sent 2+ messages IMESSAGE 💬 Big Bro Tez💪🏽: hey sis I was just checking in on you to see how you were doing. Big Bro Tez💪🏽: text me back whenever you can I'll see you at work I love you sis ♥️

It always made her happy knowing that her big brother cares about her and her well-being will always be there for her.

IMESSAGE 💬 Minnie🧃: I'm fine Montez Big Bro Tez💪🏽: are you sure? you don't have to come in to work today Minnie🧃: I have too so I can sign the contract then I'll probably just stay and watch your match out back Big Bro Tez💪🏽: A'ight little sis if you say so I won't pressure you Minnie🧃: thank you now lemme' get back to my workout since you rudely interrupted me 😭🙄 Big Bro Tez💪🏽: whatever nigga

Yasmine chuckled at his message before getting back to her workout and moving her headphones back in place.

biancabelairwwe, jonathanfatu, tiffanywwe, and others liked your post.

minnieminks: back at it again 🖤💭 biancabelairwwe: them abs tho better than mines girl im jealous asf 🙄🙄😭 minnieminks: @ biancabelairwwe girl your abs are more sharper than mines please 😭 jonathanfatu: why do you always gotta stick yo' ass out like do a different pose or sum minnieminks: @ jonathanfatu I smell a hater in the room rn 😀 tiffanywwe: we need to workout together honestly. carmelohayes: why aren't you answering my calls?

Read all Comments.

Yasmine took a shower before heading to the arena for Smackdown tonight. She was only there to support her big brother and Angelo, of course.

She was curious when she'd make her debut on Smackdown, which is probably soon. For right now, it'll just probably be segments of her getting interviewed by Byron Saxton about her upcoming debut.

She got out of the shower, wrapped her body in a towel, and dried her hair, making sure that every part of it was dry.

Sitting down inside the shower with her legs crossed, she scrolled through her Instagram, noticing that Carmelo had commented on her post that she made.

Her face turned up at his comment, questioning her about not answering his phone calls.

'This nigga won't understand the elephant in the room will he?'

After drying her body off, she lavender herself with some lotion and put on a comfortable outfit for tonight's smackdown. She walked out of the bathroom, grabbing her keys and purse while making sure she had everything before heading to her car.

As she headed out towards her car, she saw someone walking up to her. She couldn't recognize the face until he came a little bit closer, and that's when she knew that it was him. So Yasmine immediately went inside her car, locking the door in the process while he came banging on her window.

"Baby! Open the door." Carmelo said.

Yasmine shook her head as she turned the button on in the ignition, as he tried to open the door by the handle but not realizing that it was locked.

"C'mon, baby, don't be this way. I only did what I did so you can act right." Yasmine scoffed at his reasoning as she gave him the middle finger, pulling out from the parking lot and driving off in the process.

✧˚° Yasmine made it to the arena, parking in the garage. As she grabbed her purse while getting out of the car again, she realized she was only here to sign the contract and support her brother. Nothing more would happen, right?

She walked inside the building, seeing all the fans coming in to get their tickets or buy wrestlers' merchandise. That's when she ran into a fan who recognized her and started squealing.

"OH, MY GOODNESS, ARE YOU YASMINE THEE YASMINE FROM NXT?" The fan asked while Yasmine smiled at them.

"Yes of course hon what can I do for you?" She asked.

"May I please get an autograph and a picture?" Yasmine nodded her head while grabbing the marker from them, signing their T-shirt with her signature. The fan pulled out their phone, setting it up on camera mode for them to take a picture with her.

They did a pose as they snapped the picture together while hugging Yasmine she gladly responded to the hug.

"Omg thank you sooo much!" The fan said.

"No problem hon." Yasmine gave them one last hug before continuing her way towards Paul's office.

It felt nice to her to know that she had some fans who liked her and enjoyed her wrestling. She felt her phone buzz, making her stop in her tracks. Pulling it out, she saw that Bianca texted her.

Breezy🫶🏽 sent 2+ messages IMESSAGE 💬 Breezy🫶🏽: Montez told me you would be here tonight wya? Breezy🫶🏽: Actually, I see your location. I'm coming towards you; you should see me waving my hand.

Yasmine looked around, seeing someone waving their hand back and forth. She stood on her tippy toes, seeing Bianca waving her hand, and smiling, ran up towards her.

They both hugged each other while everyone was around them as they pulled away from each other.

"Oh, my goodness girl you look good." Bianca said.

"Thank you, girl you look good as well too." She spoke.

"C'mon, let's go to your brother's locker." We started strolling towards Montez's dressing room. It was nice to be around Bianca and them again; maybe she won't run into Carmelo's ass. But she doesn't get her hopes up very much, so there's no guarantee that he'll come seeking for her merely to make her feel useless.

We eventually arrived to his locker room, where she spotted Trinity, Jonathan, and an unfamiliar figure. They all gazed at her, then Trinity and Jon approached her and hugged me. 

"Oh, my goodness, girl, I'm so happy that you're away from that nigga man." Trinity spoke. "Well, as long as Montez and Jon are with me, I'll be alright, since he's definitely here today. Just like everyone else that was drafted. Have you seen Tiffany? Yasmine replied.

"Yeah, she was in here a couple of minutes ago." She stated this while nodding her head. Yasmine sat next to Trinity, watching Montez's tag team match against the New Day. She absolutely loved seeing my brother beat up his opponents, which is why she wanted to be in this profession. 

But now she regrets it simply because she is dealing with Carmelo's ass, but someone grabbed her eye: a man spreading on his phone while wearing a Yeet shirt, black sweatpants, and a fresh haircut with piercings.

'Damn he looked so fine would it be rude to be admiring him like this?'

She felt Bianca prodding me, drawing my attention as she glanced at her with a sneer on her face. "Girl, who were you looking at?"

"I-I wasn't looking at nobody B not too much, okay?" Yasmine said, rolling her eyes at her. 

She chuckled at me as she fixed her focus on the TV screen, watching her fiancé whoop some asses. Meanwhile, Yasmine got up from the couch and informed them that she was going to the restroom right now. As she walked towards the restroom, she heard a familiar voice talking to someone about something. She looked up to saw the person who damaged her, Carmelo, who appeared to be on the phone with someone.

Yasmine sighed deeply as she walked by him on her way to the facilities, until she felt him grip her arm, almost causing her to stumble. "Hey pretty girl, I didn't know you were here." Carmelo said.

She rolled her eyes at him and yanked herself away from him, "Look, don't you ever touch me or even come near me after what you did to me." He chuckled darkly at her while approaching up to her, causing her to back up. 

"I recall you calling me daddy the last time I fucked this wonderful pussy of mine, dear." "That's because you made me call you that nigga I didn't want to call you that." She remarked as she pushed him hard.

He didn't like that and grabbed her by the throat, pressing her to the wall like he had done previously, making her feel terrified and uncomfortable. That was something he like seeing from her, all afraid beneath him. 

"Do you see how you submit to me?" It should be this way all of the time". Yasmine fought to free herself, but he tightened his grasp on her throat. She felt like she couldn't breathe while fighting him off and screamed at the top of her lungs. All she wanted to do was use the restroom and not run into his ass.

She used all of her might to hit him in the face, causing him to tumble as Yasmine escaped. 

Yasmine fled as fast as she could without turning back, tears welling up in her eyes as she heard Carmelo cry her name. She spotted the same foreign face standing at the door with his legs crossed, looking at his phone and running up to him.

✧˚° JEY

I was standing by the door on my phone, looking for Montez's sister Yasmine. As I was doing so, I heard what sounded like someone rushing. When I looked up, I saw a female sprinting towards me, clearly in danger. She approached behind me, and I noticed Carmelo approaching this direction as if he was hunting for her, and when she grabbed me aggressively, it attracted my attention.

Almost appeared afraid in a way? Her eyes begged for assistance from me, so I did what any guy would do and defended her. 

As he approached, he noticed me with her and attempted to walk up on us, grabbing her arm as I pushed him. "Aye, you might wanna back up dawg." I stated this while clutching the female behind me.

"Man you might wanna back up and give her ass to me nigga ion know who you think yo' ass is c'mon Yasmine." He stated that's when I turned around to view her face, and she looked so damn good. 

I felt her grip my hand strongly as I interlaced mine with hers, and he took note, attempting to separate us so he could grab her up. But I managed to deliver a left hook, causing him to fall backward while clutching his bloodied lip.

"You know what? Don't worry about it, Yasmine. I got something for you later." When he went away, she sank to her knees, hands in her face, weeping, and the door opened to reveal Trinity. 

"Josh, what happened?" She asked.

"She came up running towards me away from the ol' boy. He just left." I said.

"Shit, well, my match is coming up. Can you take care of her, please?" As Trinity departed to get dressed, I nodded yes and kneeled down to play with Yasmine's curly hair. She looked up at me with puffy eyes, which made me sad. What was her history with Ol' Boy? I extended my hand, expecting her to grasp it, as we walked her inside the room and closed the door behind us.

Nobody else was in there except us, and she sat down with her head low while I poured her something to drink in a cup and walked up to her. 

I patted her on the shoulder, prompting her to flinch: "Hey, I'm not going to hurt you, Shawty." I offered her the cup while sitting on the same couch she was on. I saw she was still shivering a little, so I slid over to her and wrapped my arm around her shoulder, bringing her closer to me. She hesitated at first but then lay her head on my chest.

I looked down at her, watching her drink her water from the cup I had given her. I felt her body relax with my touch, and her eyes locked on mine as we both established eye contact. 

'Fuck, she's so pretty.'

'Damn, he looks good in person.'

She looked away from me as I chuckled at her facial expressions, knowing that I made her nervous, which made me boldly grab her face to make her look at me again just so I could see that gorgeous face.

"Not goin lie you look gorgeous as hell." I said bluntly.

"T-thank you...I never got your name..." she said softly.

"My name is Joshua. I'm Jonathan's brother, but people call me Jey or Josh for short. Whatever you want, mama." Her facial expression seemed a bit perplexed, not having heard something like that before.

'Did he just call me mama? Hmm, I like it very much better than what the fuck Melo used to call me. It's something different.'

We heard the door opening as we moved away from each other, acting like nothing had happened as we saw Montez coming towards us.

"You good little sis? I heard what happened." Montez asked as she nodded her head.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Josh was there in a nick of time before anything else could happen, " she said.

Montez walked towards my way as he dapped me up, thanking me for protecting his sister from her ex-boyfriend. That dude is her ex-boyfriend? No wonder I gotta find out more about that.

I saw Bianca coming into the room as I walked towards her way, pulling her to the side real quick.

"What's up, Joshua?" Bianca questioned me.

"I know it ain't my business or nothing, but I wanna know more about yo' bestie right there. What's her history with Ol' boy?" I said, folding my arms over my chest.

"Look, when the time is right, she'll tell you because it's not my business to tell, but all I can say is that he's dangerous and did something horrible to her." I nodded my head, not wanting to press on the conversation about it, fixing my gaze at her, who was still talking to her brother while her gaze fixed towards my way, smiling at me before looking at Montez.

'She has such a pretty smile, damn just made my heart flutter a little bit.'

'Imma' get to know her more, and when the time is right, she'll be with me.'

After having my match for the main event for tonight I went towards bathroom to take a shower before I could I see Yasmine standing there look like she waiting on someone.

I walked towards her way shirtless as she looked towards my way eye fucking me, which made me have a smug expression on my face.

"Do I look good, mama, or what?" I asked in a deep tone.

She rolled her eyes at me, folding her arms at me, "Yeah, whatever, boy, what'chu doing anyways?" She's so sassy I like that shit; leaning against the wall.

"I was finna head in the shower before going home; how about you? What'chu doing here standing fo'?"

"I was waiting on Montez and Bianca to take us home, but they are taking forever." She pouted. Damn, she's adorable at that, listening to her vent.

"Lemme' take a shower real quick, and I'll take you home. I'll make sure Montez knows before he goes ballistic." Yasmine nodded her head while going inside Montez's locker room, shutting the door while I walked towards the bathroom to take a shower before I took this little girl home.

I don't know why, but she makes my heart flutter and racing like crazy it's like I'm almost in love with her or something, but it seems like she has a scarred heart.

✧˚°

I texted Montez that I'd be taking his younger sister home because she appeared exhausted. I was correct: she fell asleep on the way to her cot. I continued stealing looks at her, watching her slumber like a small child. I drove with one hand on her thigh, stroking my palm across my beard and concentrated on the road as well as Yasmine.

I couldn't help but be mesmerized by her beauty; it was almost as if I was entranced without even realizing it. I eventually pulled up to Montez and Bianca's crib, turning into the driveway without noticing their car. I shook Yasmine lightly, not wishing to startle her. 

Her eyes flutter open, wiping the crust from her eyes, looking around the area and noticing that she was home.

"Hey, pretty mama, you're home." I said as she smiled at me.

"Thank you, Josh, for taking me home when you didn't have to." She said.

"Well, I didn't want you to wait on your big-headed ass brother, so I offered." She chuckled at my comment about her brother as she unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car while I did the same, grabbing her bags in the backseat.

We walked up to the door, and she opened it with the key she had on her keychain, opening it while holding it for me. We walked inside the home together, locking the door behind us as I placed her luggage on the wooden floor. I could tell she was fatigued based on her energy and movement. "you sleepy?" She glanced at me, nodded, and rubbed her eyes. I, being the gentlemen that I am, grabbed her by the thighs and carried her upstairs to her bedroom.

I carried her like this, which surprised her because she hadn't been carried like this by a MAN before. 

I made it to her bedroom and opened the door before laying her down, but for some reason, she didn't withdraw her arms from around my neck, leading us to remain close. Noticing her movements, she withdrew her arms away from my neck and walked away from me. I scratched the back of my head, observing her every step.

I saw her taking some clothing from her drawer and thought that was my cue to go home because I had already done my part, right? 

Before I could head out, I heard her say something, but she was stumbling on her words, "C-could you stay just for a little bit? I don't like being by myself." I didn't think it was a good idea since Montez and em' were on the way home, and he'd kill me if he saw me staying the night with his little sister.

"Mama ion think that's a good idea I don't want yo' brother to kill me." I said, hearing her sigh deeply.

"It's fine...I understand...but thanks again, though I appreciate it.." she said softly.

I could tell that she wanted me to stay, so I texted Montez to see.

IMESSAGE 💬 HomieJosh💪🏽: Yo' Montez Fatheadtez😭: what's up? is my sister home? HomieJosh💪🏽: yeah, I made it to yall crib but she just asked me to stay I told her that wouldn't be a good idea I didn't want yo' ass to kill me 😭😭 Fatheadtez😭: look I trust you around my little sister she's been through a lot and she's very anxious maybe you're someone she can go to whenever she's having a panic attack when I'm not there or when the girls aren't or Jon. HomieJosh💪🏽: you sure? Fatheadtez😭: yes dawg I'm sure maybe that's what she needs someone to be there for her and comfort her she really does need that the most after what happened to her. HomieJosh💪🏽: wym? what happened? 🤨 Fatheadtez😭: look don't tell her that I told you this but that dude that was chasing after her that was her ex-boyfriend Carmelo he's from the NXT roster but got drafted on the blue brand with us but that's not the point...the point is...he did something bad to her in her locker room it's...sensitive dawg something that I can't get into but whenever she's ready she'll tell you. HomieJosh💪🏽: A'ight then dawg I'll take yo' word for it. Fatheadtez😭: A'ight I'll pop in to check in just to make sure HomieJosh💪🏽: A'ight 😭😭

After messaging Montez, I noticed Yasmine exiting the shower with a towel wrapped around her body, grabbing her bottle of lotion and deodorant from the dresser. I was observing her lavendering her body with her scented lotion, which smelled lovely, as she returned it to the dresser. That's when she untied her towel and let it drop to the ground as I turned around, not wanting to be a pervert or anything.

"you can turn around now." Yasmine said.

When I turned back, I saw her in booty shorts and a long T-shirt that caressed her body as she strolled towards her bed to get comfy. She left some space for me in case I stayed, which I did, as I removed my shirt and sweatpants and joined her in bed. She had her back to me, nestled up in her pillow, curled up like a ball as I wrapped my arm around her waist, bringing her closer to me.

She felt comfortable underneath me, nuzzling my neck on her shoulder and moving her head toward me, our faces close together. 

"Did my brother say you could?" She asked.

"Yeah, I was texting him about it while you were in the shower Ma." I said as I gazed down at her lips while she did the same with me.

"O-oh okay..." her voice trailed off while turning her head.

Which without hesitation I turned grabbed her by the chin making her look at me once more I didn't want to scare her with my bold actions brushing my thumb against her lips.

"Why do you do that? Hm?"

"D-do what?" Yasmine asked nervously.

"You always look away from me. Do I make you nervous?" She maintained eye contact with me, nodding her head in the process, earning me a chuckle.

I caressed her face, pulled her head closer to my chest, and felt her hand on there as well. She was tracing my Samoan tattoos.

"Did these hurt like all of em'?" She asked while I nodded my head.

"Yeah, it hurt like hell, but I took it like a G, you feel me?" I said, hearing her soft chuckle.

"Probably cried." I sat upright, feeling offended by her statement.

"Excuse me, little girl?"

She laughed at me, covering her lips as I picked her up, placed her on my lap, and held her in place. That's when she stopped all the awful laughing. It's the small things I do that make her feel frightened and silent, like maintaining eye contact while her hands are on my chest and mine are on her hips.

"W-we should go to sleep before Montez walks in on us like this." She said. 

"You scared of him or something?" She punched me on the chest, rolling her eyes because she wanted to be playful, and shit I gave her ass a tiny smack, causing her to yelp. She whacked me upside the head as I winced in agony, laughing at me. A'ight bet I sat up straight, seizing her legs and holding her down on the bed while going between them.

And fuck, she just looked so good underneath me like this seeing all of her natural features. "You know, you look beautiful mama?" She did what she always did but took the compliment instead of giving me an attitude.

"T-thank you." I let her go as she cuddled up on my chest, my hand in the back of my head, and the other holding onto her.

I watched her drift to sleep, hearing my heartbeat going up and down as I rubbed her back gently, making her feel at ease with my touch.

I yawned a few times before closing my eyes and drifting to sleep as well. Hopefully, in the morning, she'll feel better.

SomeThing Bout' Us.

A/n: welll Yasmine and Jey are getting a little touchy feely right now lol but I think Yasmine is honestly really scared due to her commitment issues because of Carmelo and her past relationships.

But she feels safe around Jey and being in his arms and presence will probably change her mind we'll see.

Hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

Stay Ucey.

[e-dubbc11]

im sending you a buncchhhhhh~ i hope im doing this right 🥹

“shut up and just let me take care of you!”

with billy pleaseee 💕

Of course it’s ok to send in a bunch! Thank you so much for participating in my sleepover. I really hope you like what I did here and I’m excited to get to your other asks! ♥️

I just realized I attached the wrong prompt to this ask…I am SO sorry! The prompt I used for this was “I could keep you safe, they’re all afraid of me”

The Witching Hour

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: A few swear words, angst, violence, some fluff

Word Count: 1.4K-ish

Summary: You’re walking home late from a night out with co-workers and run in to a little trouble.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The faded crescent moon barely lit up the night sky. It looked like a claw made of pale silver with the bright city lights shining beneath it. The countless pin pricks of bright white shone against the dark canvas like sparkling diamonds across a piece of black velvet. No clouds or strong winds tonight; the sky up above was calm and quiet.

Beneath your feet, you stepped on pieces of broken glass, nip bottles, and cigarette butts as you walked alone, coming from an evening out with co-workers. You hadn’t really made any close friends yet since moving into the city.

It must be the witching hour.

You could hear babies crying through open windows on this warm late spring night. It seemed as though they all started to cry at the same time and the city demons clawed and crawled their way out of the alleyways and subway stations, just waiting for someone to pounce on.

The night can be a frightening place with dangers creeping around every corner and you hated to admit that you were a little scared. You felt like the rapid beating of your heart was getting faster and faster with each step you took.

Looking around, it was difficult to distinguish where you were and you became more anxious as you tried to figure out how to get home.

The cat calling came from all directions, it seemed like. The neon lights in the store windows blurred in your peripheral vision as you walked a little faster to try and get away from the footsteps you heard behind you. It wasn’t just one person; it was multiple.

With one hand on your taser inside your purse, you were ready if they got too close. The scent of their cigarettes floated past your nose when you were taken by surprise and pulled into a dark alley, partially blocked off by a large dumpster.

A large cold hand forcefully covered your mouth, preventing you from screaming. The man took his free hand, ripped your purse from your hands and tossed it toward the other end of the alley.

He pushed you into the brick wall; the back of your head hit the bricks and your vision became blurry but not before you got in a swift knee to the groin. But where one man dropped to the ground, another just took his place.

Another hand, smelling of fresh ash, clamped down over your mouth and pressed your back into the wall. Your bare elbows scraped against the bricks and started to bleed.

One of them spoke, while two of them watched and the other writhed around on the ground in pain.

“Well aren’t you a pretty little thing.” He said in a low raspy tone. “She’s pretty, isn’t she boys?”

One of the other men licked his lips while eyeing you up and down. Panting heavily, he watched your chest rise and fall as you tried to breathe from behind the man’s hand. Something dripped down the back of your neck; it felt warm and it moved slow like honey or molasses.

It was blood from where your head hit the bricks.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be gentle.” One of them said.

You could feel your eyes start to close no matter how hard you tried to keep them open and remained frozen in place. There was a loud bang that jolted you awake and caused you to look over just in time to see one of the thug’s heads bounce off the side of the dumpster.

A tall figure, wearing a black beanie and a black leather jacket was fighting off your attackers. He looked very familiar. When he pulled one of the men off of you, your legs gave out and you hit the ground.

You watched as a blade protruded out from your savior’s sleeve and warm blood sprayed across your cheek as he opened up your attacker’s throat. Before you passed out, your rescuer called out your name and then you saw nothing but darkness.

When you finally opened your eyes, your vision was still a little fuzzy and you had an exploding pain in your head. Wincing, you tried to sit up before he stopped you.

“Hey, hey lie back, y/n. Try and stay still; can you do that for me?” He said.

It was your boss. Billy Russo.

“Mr. Russo?” You asked with a shaky voice.

“Well that’s a good sign…you know who I am.” He said with a warm smile. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Are you bein’ serious right now?” You asked, sarcastically.

Billy gave you a stern look.

“Ok, ok…three fingers. Where am I?” You asked him in a low voice.

“You’re at my place.” He said.

“Well that’s just great, two months in New York and I have to be rescued by my boss. Fan-fuckin-tastic.” You said, your voice dripping with sass.

Billy laughed. “Well, there are worse things y/n. You almost ended up being fresh meat for those wolves.”

Everything you were feeling at that moment had risen to the surface and the only reaction that came out was you buried your head in your hands and burst into tears.

Billy moved closer to you on the couch.

“Shit….sssshh, it’s ok y/n. You’re safe now. They’re gone, they can’t hurt you anymore.” He said, his voice smooth like warm honey.

Catching the tears as they fell from your eyes, you replied, “But what if they come back, Mr. Russo?!!”

Billy’s eyes narrowed and they looked like pools of dark chocolate and through clenched teeth, he said, “They’re not coming back because they’re dead…they’re all dead.”

He told you how he followed you from the bar you all were drinking at; he wanted to make sure you were going to get home alright. And he got nervous when you didn’t get into a cab or an uber so he made sure to follow close behind without you noticing.

Billy was a former marine; he was taught how to blend in and not be seen and sneak up on the enemy when they least expected him to.

You sat there horrified, as he told you what he did to them. He opened their throats with ease and precision but not before wanting them to beg for their lives.

He liked to watch them beg and he enjoyed watching them die. He told you that as he watched them take their last breaths, he smiled. Like an evil Cheshire cat, he smiled and prowled around them to make sure they were all dead.

White with shock, your mouth gaped open as you sat there paralyzed in place listening to the words spill out of his mouth.

After he was finished, you were finally able to speak. “You killed them all? For me?”

“They were going to hurt you…or worse.” Said Billy, angrily.

“But y—you killed them, Mr. Russo.” You said.

Billy took your hand in his and gently pulled you to a seated position so your faces were inches away from each other. You could feel his warm breath along your eyelashes as he replied, “I did the world a favor, y/n. I couldn’t let them hurt you.” There was a slight pause. “And please…call me Billy.” He said.

A slight smile extended across your lips. “Ok…Billy. But what are ya gonna do? Are you gonna follow me around the city to make sure I stay safe?” You asked.

He was still holding your hand and gently swept his knuckles along your cheek, being careful not to touch the cuts on your face.

“I could keep you safe. They’re all afraid of me.” He said; his voice tight with anger.

“Should I be afraid of you?” Your voice trembled.

Billy let his voice drop to a whisper.

“Oh no, my little lamb. I’m not the wolf you have to worry about.” He said in a tone that sounded like knives being sharpened.

His onyx colored eyes raked over you, silently telling you he would never let this happen to you again before very lightly pressing his lips against your forehead and holding you against his chest.

Demons are at their strongest during the witching hour. They emerge from under the earth to carry out their mischief and dark magic. That troublesome time was full of unpredictability; it’s incredibly difficult to fight them off, to not give in to what they want, or not fall under the spells that they cast upon the world. You hoped those demons and city scum would never come for you again.

You felt sorry for them because if they did, it would be the last thing they would ever do.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

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If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[floydsglasses]

𝙒𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙏𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝘿𝙖𝙬𝙣 - Robert "Bob" Floyd ( A Quiet Place AU)

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x AFAB OC/ Camille SUMMARY: It was a simple trip, go back into the city and get supplie's. Stay quiet to keep the monsters at bay, and get what they needed, both of them had stuck together since day one of the new world, swearing to not leave each other till the end. Those who dare to mess with either of them will learn the hard way.

Tags: Post apocalyptic setting, Established relationships, mentions of blood and wounds, revenge, bob basically going through it (Sorry), death, kidnapping, implied pregnancy, soft fluff, men being pervy (Srry) angst, implied m3rder, torture, swearing, self defense killing. Use of ASL

A/N SORRY FOR THIS ONE, I dont actually like this ending, im also dedicating this to mamachasemayehm, im so sorry for all that has happened to you I wish you all the best ❤️

WORD COUNT: 9,824

⏁⏁⏁ THE EDGE OF the wave’s crashed at the end’s of her feet. The sun setting painted the sky in a range of pink, orange and blue, she smiled looking up at the cloud’s, sighing in content. She counted herself lucky to be someone that was living in safety miles away from the city.

She wasn't even sure how dangerous the city is, she knows the monster’s that hunt by sound, that are the cause of the destruction she has witnessed. They were scary, they ruled the world. Only good thing about this new world was that she had him

She dug her bare feet into the sand, the soft damp texture between her toes. She held her knees to her chest, her ebony hair held in a tight ponytail with strands of hair loose around her face.

“Hey.” A soft deep voice spoke up, she looked over her shoulder. She gave a small wave at him turning back to the water. His shadow cast onto the sand next to her, he sighs as he take’s the same position as her.

“How are you feeling?” He asked her, she shrugged in response. “Better I think.” She admits, he nodded his head, the sun reflecting off his glasses.

“Do you wanna go to infirmary?” Bob ask’s her, she shakes her head. “No it’s just food not agreeing with me.” She reassured him.

“Are you sure? We don't have to do this trip if you aren't feeling it.” He tells her, the same sweet nature he had kept since the day they met. A smile creeped onto her face as she couldn't help herself.

“We can always make Rooster do the trip.” He suggests to her, she smirks, shaking her head. “You know you don't have to call him that anymore.” She mentions, he shrugged.

“Force of habit.” He says simply, she tap’s the damp sand. “I’m gonna be okay, and not to sound cocky but.”

“We are better at supply trip’s than Bradshaw.” Cami say’s with a smug smile, he shook his head.

“Oh so you can call him that but I can't call him Rooster?” He point’s out, and she shrugged again. “Well yeah.” She says with an obvious tone.

He playfully rolls his eyes. “Oh.” She perk’s up.

“Do you have your knife on you?” She wonder’s, his brows furrowed in confusion at her question.

“Why?” He asks simply.

“I wanna show you something.” She tells him, he reached around in his jean pockets, pulling out his tanto point knife, the deep oak wood glistening in the sunlight that shone on the beach. She took it from him standing up.

“Okay I wanna teach you this.” Cami told him, he raised a brow. “You need to know this, if someone catches you off guard.” She flip’s the blade around in her hand, catching it with one hand.

“Are you sure this is safe?” He ask’s her, she shakes her head.

“No but I don't think you'll get hurt.” She assure’s him, she extends her hand pulling up onto his feet. She stands next to the water, twirling the knife in one hand.

“Alright, I'm a bad guy with a knife. I run at you, what do you do?” She asks him. He stammered for an answer.

“Run the other way.” He answered unsure.

“No.well yes, but not in this situation.” Cami tells him, she shakes her head.

“I corner you, what do you do?” She questions, he smirks looking her up and down.

“Well if you corner me, I think you have an idea what would happen.” He teases her with a soft smile. Her face grew red, she shook her head. “I…I'll stop that.” She say's trying hide her smile. “Okay I'm sorry.” He laughs, she steps closer than him.

“You get cornered, someone swings at you.” She speaks slowly as she lifts up the blade. She takes his right wrist, bringing it to her’s.

“You grab my wrist, tight like this and you.” She instructs him, turning around with a knife in her hand now aimed at her face. Her back pressed against his chest, warming him from the heat of her body.

“They're gonna try and fight back against you, if that happens and you're against the wall.” She continued as she pressed further against him, his heart raced. “You use it.”

“The wall is your friend, hold yourself as tight as you can to it, and then use your free hand.” Cami order’s, she shovels herself off him.

“And you stab them.” She explains, “You understand?” She asks him.

“Alright now you try.” Cami tells him, his brow’s furrowed. “Are you serious?” He ask’s her, she nods her head.

“Yes, I want to make sure you know this.” She says, he looked down at the knife in her hand. She drops it, noticing his stare’s.

“We can do it without the knife.” She assure him. He shakes his shoulders, loosening himself up. She swing’s at him, he grunts as he grabs her wrist. Copying the same move, her back pressed hard against him as he held her wrist with both of his hands.

“Like this?” He ask’s her, she smirks looking down at his arm’s, the veins popping with how tight he holds her.

“More or less.” She answered. “You forgot one thing though.” She points out, his brows furrowed.

“What? What did I do wr-” She sweep’s his leg’s out from under him, he grunts as he falls onto the sand.

He coughs as he looks up at the pink and blue sky. She gets on top of his hip’s, holding both of his wrists, smirking with victory. He groans as he blinks, bit’s of sand on the lens of his glasses blocking his vision.

“You didn't plant your feet.” Cami whispered, he shakes his head, the world spinning around him as he collects himself.

“Oh.” He groans. She removes her hand’s from his wrist, his arm’s laying out in a t-pose. She sits up, her leg’s still stradling him as the sun illuminated her shadow on the sand.

“Are you okay?” She wonder’s with a soft chuckle, he groaned in response.

“Super.” He grit’s at him, she shakes her head at his sarcasm.

“I'm sorry I just like seeing you this way.” Cami told him, he smirked with his brow raised.

“On my back? He wonders.

“Maybe.” She says, she leaned forward caressing his cheek as she brought her lip’s to his, smiling into the kiss as his hands gently held her waist. She inhaled pulling away, her knees digging into the sand.

“If my head wasnt spinning this would be pretty nice.” He comment’s, she smile’s shaking her head, removing herself from him, extending her hand for him to take. Both of them get to their feet turning around walking back.

⏁⏁⏁

SHE HOLDS her jacket close to herself, winter was bitterly ending and she could feel its effects as they both walked down the desolate street of what used to be San Diego.  Her body covered in chill’s as she desperately tried to keep her warm on the inside, she didn't want to admit to Bob. She was tired, not exhausted. 

Both of them had left at sunrise for the island, they knew it was gonna take a day or two to get what they needed for the couple hundred people on the island. There was already so much pressure on them she didn't want him to worry about her. 

A tap on her shoulders makes her turn her head. Bob pushed up his glasses showing her the pocket map of San Diego, showing her the key for the next place for them to raid. 

“How far is that?” Cami asked him, both of them already knew Sign Language before the world ended, she had taken deaf education at her college and taught kids. Him on the other hand learned it just because he wanted to. 

“Just up the corner.” He tells her, she nods her head.  “How are you feeling?” He ask’s her, she shakes her head. 

“Cold. But I’ll be fine.” She sign’s, he nods his head. “If you want to stop, take a minute we can.” He tells her, she shakes her head. 

“I'm fine, we have to do this.” She says, determination in her eye’s. He furrowed confused on why she was so set on getting supply’s.  

“Where else do we have to go?” She changes the subject. 

He sighed looking up at the cloudy skies, hoping it was going to rain so they could whisper to each other.  “Pharmacy.” He signs. 

“Excellent, what do we need?” She wonder’s, he pulls out a small notepad from his backpack. He was better prepared than her.  “Find painkillers, needles and bandages.” 

“And condoms apparently.” He smirks, hiding his laugh with a soft smile. She shook her head at their grocery list.  

“Stolen again?” Cami ask’s, he shrugs. 

“It wasn't me.” He clarifies, she raises a brow. “I didn't think it was.” She signed, his lips parted in o shape. 

“There's nothing you wanna tell the class, Bob?” She teases him, he playfully roll’s his blue eyes. 

“Shut up.” He signs. 

It was pure luck that she found him. Both of them met right at the start of day one, she was supposed to be meeting a guy for a date. He was there as well, she didn't think someone quite like him would be at a restaurant as nice as the one she was at.  They both started up a conversation with each other, then everything went down. 

One of the alien’s had crashed through the window of the restaurant, he had shielded her from the glass, and she had distracted them when they had to run away from the sound seeking creature’s.  Both of them agreed to stick together, having been that way for the last two years. They stop in front of a small pharmacy, its sign swinging gently in the wind, the window to the door broken as bit’s and pieces of the building hang out. She wondered what it may have been like for locals to have a pharmacy around the corner pharmacy. 

“Do you want me to get you something? Do you need anything?” Bob wonder’s, she shakes her hand. “Just get what we need, I'll be okay.” Cami reasure’s him, she appreciated his concern but it was starting to feel smothering.

She carefully step’s over the glass, being sure to not step on anything. 

She looked at the broken sign on the ground, while Bob grabbed pill bottle’s carefully. She was on a mission for something of her own. She felt in her stomach what felt like a cramp, she hoped that it was that so her hunt for feminine products would soon be over. Cami avoided the small mirror’s,her hair was greasy it almost made her happy no one but him could see her. She checked the scattered shelves, a neon pink package with the word’s, Tampax made her smile, happily snatching it up. Stuffing it away in her bag. 

Her brown eyes stop on a bright blue box, the world's First Response in bold font. She looked over the shelves grabbing it, shoving it down her bag. She touches her braid nervously looking around her. He turned around the corner, a white pill bottle in his hand and a water bottle in the other. 

“What is that?” She asks him. He turned the bottle around showing her the label, Advil. She nod’s her head, he takes out two, handing them to her. “Got what you need?” Cami asks him, downing the small red pills with water.  He shakes his head.  

“I need to look in the back.” He tells her. 

“Insulin and needles aren't usually kept in the front.” She reminds him. She shivers, holding her arm’s close to herself, walking past the counter.

A Hand written sign with the word’s, ‘Back in Five minute’s’ The irony behind it. 

Her tom lightly taps the floor. She had to trade out her sneakers for lightweight footwear, she was lucky enough to not have to be barefoot in this world. She couldn't imagine how it would be for someone living in their new world with no shoe’s. 

She was very privileged to be on the island; a year ago she and Bob had been hunkering down in a beach house when they heard the song. “Beyond the Sea” playing on their radio, Bob was able to trace the signal of the radio tower to a distant island. The wind outside howled loudly. 

He looks at the shelves for the medical supplies. Looking between the shelves watching the dark haired woman, her hair done in a single braid, the rest of her hair tucked away in a gray beanie.

He stop's in his trail, feeling a thick liquid beneath the sole’s of his feet, he slowly looked down, a pool of red, he covered his mouth as his heart fell to his stomach. 

His hand shake’s as he follows the blood trail, the white tile on the pharmacy coated in a thick line of brown and red.  His eyes widened as he looked down, a man with green eyes stared at him lifeless, holding his side as it leaked out onto the floor. The gash was deep, not from the talon’s of the creature’s. 

He looked closer at the deceased man, Bob could see several wound’s to man’s torso. His chest rose up and down as tears came to his eyes. 

He gasped as he feel’s an arm around his shoulders, Cami looked at him fearfully. 

“What is it?” She asked him, he pointed at the wall. Her heart skipped a beat as goosebumps flooded her body.  She gagged holding her mouth as a queasy feeling overcame her suddenly, she turned on her feet walking out the opened alley door. 

She emptied the contents of her stomach onto the wet concrete, she coughed as she kept reacting,he held her braid away from her face as she finished. Cami groaned softly, wiping her mouth leaning on the wall. “I'm okay.” Cami reassures him. Her brows furrowed as she tapped him on the arm, pointing down the alley.

Both of them look at each other then at the dumpster where a man with blonde hair in a mullet, holding a bowie knife coated in fresh blood that dripped onto the ground. He slowly looked up at the couple. 

Bob holds out his hand up in surrender, holding his arm to shield Cami from the possible threat. His lip quivered as his eyes stared at them widened, his breath shaky.  

The both of them could understand clearly what had happened. The man looked to the sky, inhaling deeply. Bob shake’s his head pleading with him silently, Cami stood up grabbing his hand with a tight grip. Their breathing shaky with fear. 

He looked at them one last time, determination fiery in his eyes. He opened his mouth a scream of agony, echoing off the city wall’s and back to them. 

Cami take’s Bob’s hand as they both sprint away. Their heart’s pounding as blood rushes from their heads, quickly and desperate to get far as they could from the inevitable. Bob gasps as he slip’s on a puddle collapsing to the ground, scrambling to get to his feet. 

Cami huff’s as she puts all of her weight on him, holding his mouth to keep quiet. His blue eye’s shadow over with tears as they are forced to listen to the inhumane crie’s filling the air. Glasse’s shatter’s once more as the hears the final blow from the creature.

⏁⏁⏁

THE FIRE CRACKLED and popped, the rain outside patterned away heavily on the roof of the abandoned home. Photos had since fallen off the wall, notebook paper with crayola drawing turning yellow, sometimes she would look at home’s like this and wonder what it may have been like.  Were they a big happy family that celebrated holidays with each other each year or was it a happy facade that hid away at the crack’s of the broken family. 

Bob look’s up from his book, neither of them were really speaking with each other. She didn't have much to say, her mind kept slinking back to the day’s events. She hadn't realized how bad things were in the city, how naive the both of them were. 

He takes a seat next to her on her sleeping bag on the floor. She held her knees against her chest as thunder rumbled outside. He leaned over to his bag, pulling out a small blue ipod with a spongebob sticker on it. 

He pulled out the wired headphones, untangling them.  “You brought that with you?” She asked him, he nodded. 

“Why wouldn't I?” He whisper’s, her lip’s form a thin line.  

“I just thought that it was too precious to bring with you.” Cami points out, the light from the fireplace illuminated his shadow onto the ceiling fan. 

“I didn't really bring it for myself.” He tells her. Thunder rumbled outside as he handed it over to her, she licked her lip playing with the button’s. 

“I know you like music to calm down.” He says, the screen lit up with a click of her thumb, she sighed sadly. He had found it during the first few weeks of the apocalypse, hunkering down in an electronics store in downtown San Diego. Most of the music left on the device being from 70’s to 2000’s, 

She clicks recently played songs. Hovering over the button. She wiped her face, her body felt fatigued.  

“I’m so tired.” She mumbled touching her braid, his brow furrowed in concern. “What is going on with you?” Bob wonders. 

“It's nothing, it's just ..been a long day, and you know it.” Cami dismissed. He bit his lip, she was downplaying her own problem and he wished that she wasn't. He didn't care much about how much they were able to pack away, he just wanted her to feel better. 

“Yeah I get that but you have been this way the last few days.” He point’s out, she shakes her head. 

“It’s not a big deal, I’ll be fine tomorrow.” Cami reasure’s. His gaze on her softened, the light of the fire reflected onto her face.  “I just don't.” He stuttered. 

“I don't want to see you get hurt.” He admitted, his deep voice cracking at the end. Her eyes darted as she looked at him  “Cause what If I end up like that guy in the alley?” He wonder’s. 

“You're not..you won't.” Cami shake’s her head, her voice smooth. she brings her hand’s to his cheek gently caressing him. 

“I don't want to.. I don't want to have to do what he did.” Bob says softly, she brings her lip’s to his forehead, holding him closely as he wraps his arms around her shoulders holding her closely, the warmth of the fire radiating from the couple. 

“You won't ever have to do that.” She whispered in his ear. “I promise.”  Her voice silky virated against him. He sighed into her shoulder, her hand’s trailed from his face to his shoulders holding him close, inhaling his scent of cypress. Still embracing they lay next to each other, with a free hand he grabs the ipod, his finger’s untangling the white wire’s. Placing one of the earbuds in her over-covered ear, clicking on the center button starting the music.

The soft guitar of Neil Young’s Harvest Moon play’s in her ear. Camile sighed in content, letting herself succumb to the fatigue that flooded her. The rain outside continued heavily, he kept her close, feeling her heart steadying as she fell asleep. 

⏁⏁⏁

THE FIRE died as the night went on, his broken watch showing the time, 12:09AM.  He couldn't bring himself to sleep, no matter how much he shut his eyes he kept seeing the man in the alley. The way his hands shook as he stared at the both of them, it was haunting to him how the man simply let himself die, not being able to live with what he had done. 

The rain had stopped, which did not settle his nerve’s knowing that it set him up for more danger. Behind him he can hear his girlfriend shuffle in her sleeping bag, on her lip’s a soft smile laid, dreaming about anywhere but where they were. 

During the day, he saw the color in her face slowly become sickly pale, draining the russet color from her. The bead of sweat she wiped away, saying she was just hot from the sun, he knew was a lie. He wanted to help, and she was too stubborn to admit she needed it, he sighed leaning over to his bag pulling out his notebook ripping out a spare sheet. Writing with his pen,  

“I'll be back, went to get more meds 4 u.” Doodling a smile with glasses, he smirked to himself at his own cheesiness. He set it down on his pillow in her peripheral sight, he hoped she didn't wake up early, he leaned over kissing her on the forehead. 

He wanted to reassure her he would be back, but he couldn't talk. He picked up the messenger bag with cans they had collected, tip toeing on the floor before getting out the front door. He walked through the vacant neighborhood passing by the overturned cars and abandoned bicycle’s. 

He had witnessed the horror of day one of their new normal. The way the creature’s moved at the slightest sound, the clicking that came from their flower petal head’s that he had only caught glimpse of.

This world was dangerous, scary and depressing. It would be much more difficult to do it alone, it scared him what may have happened if he had chosen not to be in that restaurant that day, would he be dead like everyone else? 

He stepped inside the pharmacy, being only a five minute walk must have been a godsend to the people. He avoided the glass on the floor, the backdoor lightly swinged as the wind outside howled.  

He looked at the blue signs that hung above the isle’s, flu and cold. His finger’s trailed on the cool metal as he read each box and bottle. He wasn't sure on which one would be the most effective, beginning to grab any that said Extra on them. A snap pulled him out of his focus, his heart dropped to his stomach at the sudden sound. He patted his side for his knife, it hidden away in his sheath. His initials etched into the brown leather, cami had taken the time to stitch in a feather for him. 

He rounded the corner of the isle’s. Scanning over the label of a bottle,  Maybe it’s allergies and she is just— He gasped as a cloth clasped down over his mouth, muffling his pant’s of terror, he desperately reached for his knife, his arms held behind his back. 

He grunted, thrashing back and forth trying to get out. His eyes darted back and forth, two men with their mouths covered by bandana’s. Other two stood off their faces covered as they stared at him down.  He groaned as his face met the wet pavement of the street.  

On his lower back, he can feel a weight pressed deep. One of the men scoffed, looking him up down, predator and prey.  He bends down, his dirty fingernails caressing his cheeks.  He snatched the man’s bifocal glasses off his face, his vision blurring instantly. 

“Where do you think he came from?” A bald man wearing a blue bandana signed. The other two shrug in response.  

“Might be hunkering down in those old suburbs.” Red bandana signs. They take Bob’s messenger bag, searching its contents as he trashed it against his captor’s. Setting down the can’s and pil’s softly on the ground. 

“You think he is alone?” Yellow bandana asked, Blue shrugged.  “You don't see anyone else do ya?” He point’s out. 

“We gonna take him to an auction?” Yellow wonder’s, Red’s knee pressed further into the man’s back, he bit down as the sharp pain shot through his body. 

“I doubt he even make it to the stage.” Red sneared, smirking with venom. A light metal clicking makes Bob perk up, bit’s of cement stuck to his cheek’s. Blue’s eyes widen as he read the lettering engraved into the dog tags. 

“Check it out, military.” He signs, Bob could make out some of their motion’s even without his glasses. His heart pounded in his ears as he listens to them toss his dog tag’s to each other. 

“What kind of name is BOB?” Red signed to blue, he shrugged with his sinister smirk. Red’s dirty nail’s dangled the medallion against his cheek. “Ronan said any military we take for question.” Yellow points out, blue and red look up at each other.  “Looks like we will have some fun tonight boy’s.” 

Bob grunted, thrashing as he was forced back up. These men were not friendly, and he was sure that these people were a part of the group that Fanboy and Rooster had warned them about. The radical’s who were desperate for blood.

⏁⏁⏁

HER BROWN EYES fluttered open. She turned over, the lack of a shadow casting from the dying fire confused her. The red plaid sleeping bag remained unpaid and a single notebook paper. 

“I'll be back, went to get more meds 4 u.” Cami’s heart pounded, he went off on his own- she think’s. She groaned, getting to her feet, holding her head as she collected her thought’s.  Maybe he went far and he was just taking time to avoid making a sound. 

She looked down at her wrist, her neon pink wrist watch with the cracked glass, the time reading; 12: 20AM. She hoped that he hadn't been gone for long and he was coming back soon. Her bare feet slapped against the tile as she walked across the floor, she hoped that she didn't step on the loose tile. 

 She walked up the stairs, looking down the empty hallway. Lifeless with the paint slowly peeling away, picture’s overturned or broken. It was sad, a family torn from the world so quickly. It reminded her where she had grown up with her parents till she was fourteen, going to live with her uncle Curtis on his ranch outside San Diego. 

She used to have a big family till her parents had passed away, her grandparents had long left her, and her only relative left was her doom’s day prepping uncle. He taught everything that he thought she should know. She used to think he was crazy and did too many hallucinogens as a teenager. To be fair to him now, she bet he was laughing when the alien’s showed up. 

Cami stepped inside a pink bedroom, a small twin size bed in the corner with unmade quilt sheets. The toy’s scattered on the floor, and clothes thrown around, her tinkerbell blanket acting as a makeshift curtain, it reminded her of her own childhood bedroom. 

CLING! 

She flinched getting on the floor, her heart pounded at the sudden noise. She covers her mouth leaning against the wall, listening for what may have caused the disruption. There is no one here, only two things could be responsible for the sound. 

The monster’s who hunted anything that disturbed their perfect world, she had been careful had they could have heard her, unless it was the other thing. People, and not good one’s. She pushed back the strand’s of loose hair, peeking over the window seal. 

In the street’s, two dark sholleute’s illuminated from the cloudy moon. Her stare fell to their hand’s, crossbow. Same ones that used to fire arrows on two survivors of the island, at least that’s what she had heard. 

What do they want? She thinks in a panic. Their light’s shined in each direction of the neighborhood, entering each house briefly looking around and it wouldn't be long before they would be looking in her house. Where’s Bob when you need him, she thinks. She inhaled deeply as she began to devise a plan, she had no reason to harm them they haven't done anything to her…yet. She moved away from the window, looking around for an object. If she could distract them it could give her time to hide, or fight. In the corner, a red and blue rubber ball, Perfect, She thinks, she tiptoed across the pink carpet picking up the ball clutching it to herself. 

Her feet padded heavily against the wood as she got to the master bedroom, she kneed the bed as she opened the window creaking with the crank turning.  She looked at the neighboring house, a tree with its leaves slowly growing back, 

Cami grunted as she threw it at the branches, it snapped bouncing between each other getting stuck. Both men look between each other, looking for the noise. She didn't spare any time rushing downstairs, she picked up her backpack as she watched them. 

Blue bandana walked around the front of the house, his grip on the trigger of his crossbow never leaving. She furrowed her brows as a glist from his pocket shone in her eye’s from the moonlight. She squinted her eye’s, her heart racing. 

A silver and gold tinted bifocals laid in his pocket, a scratch in the corner of the glass. This wasn't just any run of the mill glasses, it was the one of the man she loved.  Her blood boiled in anger pulling on the handle of her ebony knife. Red bandana’s heavy boot’s scruff against the tiled floor, his flashlight shining in each room. His partner with his blue bandana, follow’s right behind him. In the living room by the fireplace, that remained with ember’s, laid two sleeping bags unmade. 

He turned around. “Someone else was with him.” Red pointed out, he nodded. 

“Where do you think they went?” Blue ask’s, his partner shrugs with his light.  “Might have skipped out, trouble in paradise?” He joked. 

“You check the bags, I'll go look outside.” Red order’s him, blue mock salutes him with two fingers, Red step’s through the broken sliding door on the wood patio. In the center of the green backyard amongst the overturned swing set, a dirty pool with leaves floating on the top, green and brown coloring the water. 

His nose turned up in disgust, he can only imagine the feel of the water. He shines his light in the corner, looking around for signs of life, though he was pretty sure no one was in the house, does not explain the tree sound. 

Crack! 

He turned on his heels, looking around as his heart pounded in fear. He aimed his crossbow at the roof of the house, the sound didn't return easing his nerve’s. He gasped as his body met the cold water that weighed him down. 

He gasped for air as he broked for the surface. A figure blurred from the water, held him by the collar. 

“Where is he?!” She demanded, he coughs up water.  

“What?!” He ask’s, she grunt’s shoving him under, he gagged as he arose again. She holds up the bifocals’ to him. “The man, where is he?!” 

Her teeth gritted staring at the man.  “Tell me where you took him?!” Cami ordered.

“I dont know what the fuck your talking about!” He exclaims, she shakes her head shoving him over the edge of the deep end.  He grunted as flayed around under the dirty water, he was forced back to the surface again. 

“Where did you take him?” Cami demanded, her shoulder tense as her eye’s fired with anger. He shakes his head, faking confusion. She reached for her waist, grunting as she pulled out her knife, her blade grazing his cheek as he stared at her fearfully. 

“You tell me where he is, or I'll cut your fucking throat.” She threatened with her eye’s dark, gripping the back of his head, pulling on his wet hair. He groaned as she drugged her blade across his cheek, blood dripping into the water. 

“Steel plant.” He shiver’s out, her lip’s straightened. “Where?” Cami growled, her fingernail’s digging into his head.

“Ahhh…by the dock’s, they're keeping him there till Ronan decides what to….do.” He stammered, his eye clouding with tear’s “Are you lying?!” She growled, her blade pushing further into his cheek, he moaned in pain shaking his head. “No no I swear.” He state’s in a whisper. 

“Please..I have a wife, a baby…she is only two, you don't have to do this.”  The man pleaded with her desperately, blood flowing down his face as he begged her with mumble’s of please’s, and prayed. 

“You're wrong about that.” Cami whisper’s, his eyes widened, she shakes her head shoving him away from her. “Get the fuck out of here, and dont come back.” She ordered, he nodded his head. 

He quickly got out of the dirty water, climbing over the edge and stumbling away from her. She touched her wet braid as her mind raced with tought’s, she almost killed a man. She swam to the edge of the pool lifting herself up. 

With a grunt she is forced back into the water, she groans muffled as her body holds tight to the floor, she gasps as she breaks for air.  Blue bandana gripped her ebony hair with an iron grip.  

“Stupid bitch.” He whisper’s, she snapped away his wrist with her free hand, the other gripped the black handle plunging her blade deep into the man’s abdomen. A scream of anguish filled the air as did an inhumane roar. 

Sounds of tree branches and wood snapping. Cami takes a deep breath looking at the roof, she grunts as she dives into the shallow end, pushing the man into the deep end. In the muffled brown water the sound of splashing and screech’s play to her. She gasped for air, she held herself to the algae tiled end. The creature’s strong arm’s flung around in the water as it clung to the surface world, failing as its body slowly fell flat, floating dead. Cami sighed in relief, her body shivering. In her other hand, glasses with water droplets thankfully not cracked, and on the other her bloody knife. 

Where are you? She thinks. 

⏁⏁⏁

HIS BODY ACHED as he slowly regained his consciousness, he could make out very few things but he was sure he wasn't in the suburban home anymore. He groans opening his mouth, restricted to the feeling of cloth in his mouth and around his jaw. He grunted, against the cutting feeling against his wrist. “I wouldn't do that if I were you.” A voice whispered to him, he panted looking up from his lap. A blurry figure sat away, two other men stood next to the man in the center, staring him down like prey. 

“You know it’s one thing to trespass in our city.” The man start’s, looking between the two bandanas, “But to do it after that explosion two weeks ago is ballsy.” He state’s, Bob furrowed a brow. 

He shakes his head grunting against the cloth. “Relax, we just wanna ask you some questions, and here we can see it’s all deep underground.” 

“You know what else that means?.” He asked standing up, he placed a hand on the captive man’s shoulder, leaning forward whispering in his ears. “No one but me will hear you scream.” 

His blue eyes widened in anger, he gritted his teeth struggling against the rope that dung into his wrist.  The two men walk to the opposite side of him, one pulls the cloth away from his mouth.

“Who do you work for?” The man with his hair buzzing asks him, he shakes his head. “No one.” Bob answered truthfully, these men were not gonna know if he was lying or not. 

“Now son, you and I both know that god frowns upon lying, and if you lie to me I will assure you that your end will not be quick.” His southern drawl deep at the end, his lip’s form a thin line. 

“Where did you come from?” The man ask’s, Bob glared at him.  

“Nowhere.” He says calmly, the man sadly smile’s. He shakes his head, biting his lip. The man swing’s his face punching him in the jaw. Bob groans, his hair is grabbed forcing him to look up. 

He picks up a bag, removing the object’s from it. He set the can’s and medicine in front of him on an old tire. The man smirks, looking him up and down. 

“Who is this for then?” He demanded, Bob shake’s his head.  “No one.” He groaned as his hair was tugged on tightly. “We provide for those who cannot provide for themselves, we shower those with the fruits of our labor.” He quotes, chuckling darkly. 

“Certainly you werent gonna eat this can of peaches all on your own now were you?” His captor wondered. He rolled his eyes. “I like fruit.” Bob answered plainly. 

“Sure you do, and I bet that these.” He says picking up the orange bottle of oxy.  “Were just for fun.” He chuckle’s. 

“Yes, I want to pop one, good for the nerve’s, or are you already on to something special? .” Bob remarked, the man scrunched his nose up.

“Your a pretty mouth fucker for being tired up.” 

Bob smirked, in the back of his mind he was hoping that Cami had been smart and fled to the island. These men were more dangerous, and he couldn't imagine what they would do if they found her alone. The image’s flood his mind of her helplessly surrounded by men, the blood in him boiled in fury. 

“We don't get many of you because well you.” He chuckled again, taunting him in a way. 

“Now that.” He picked up a can of green beans, tossing it lightly. 

He grunt smacks the end of it to his nose. He moaned as his world spun around, he panted as blood trickled onto the concrete floor. 

“We can't have it.” He sneered. 

“Tell me where you came, better be the fucking truth.” He ordered, he gripped his dirty blonde hair with an iron grip.  Bob shake’s his head with wide eye’s. 

“Nowhere I swear I'm all alone.” He pleaded. 

“Now now Robert.” He spat out his name with venom. “We already said lying will get you nowhere.” 

“I’m not lying.” Bob state’s, the man’s eyes flashed with anger as he once again swung at his face, he shook his head in disapproval. 

“I know where you came from! And I know there are more of you, NOW tell me where your base is?!” He exclaimed, Bob licked his lip’s as he closed his mouth, copper filled his tongue as he stared in the green eye’s of his captor. 

“Military took my wife, she left with one and you are military so FUCKING ANWSER ME!” He growled in his face, his nail’s digging into his cheeks as he forced him to look at him. He remained silent. 

“Maybe some motivation will help.” He ask’s, he shoved the pilot away from him. He looked at the other men.

“Grab it.” He state’s. 

“Yes Ronan.” One answer’s he glare’s at them. “What did i fucking say about calling me by my name!” He exclaimed. 

“Sorry sir, here you go.” The bandana answers by handing him four polaroid photos. He smirked, holding one up to the tied up man. His heart raced as he recognized those picture’s imdeiatly. 

“She’s pretty.” Ronan say’s.  In the photo was his girlfriend, dressed in sleep short’s and his yellow San Diego shirt, grinning at the camera with her messy black hair unkempt. It was lazy morning for the both of them, he couldn't help but capture the moment. 

“Bet you would do anything for her, and you seem like the type to never want to leave his wife’s side.” He summarizes, his glare deepened as his thumb caressed her face. A fury burned deep in him, almost possessive. 

“I can respect that.” Ronan tell’s him, his heart pounded.

In this man he could see everything that this world had turned people into, the underbelly of humanity. He moved to another photo. 

“Now that is sweet.” He comment’s, holding it up. She had taken it spur of the moment, she kissed him on the cheek and snapped the picture.  “Now I bet she doesn't leave your side either. 

“You know I think…that you didn't come alone.” Ronan taunted, his blue’s eyes widened at his word. “Oh…she did, didn't she?” He covered his mouth in surprise. He pulled another photo out, the wolf whistled looking between the tied up man and the polaroid. 

“Now this one.” He start’s. He moaned, licking his lips and taking his seat back. He turned the polaroid around for Bob to see. His heart skipped a beat, in the image was a private gag photo she gave him, for him only, it was never meant to be seen by anyone. With the flash on, she had her shirt lifted with her bare breast exposed, winking at the as on hand covering her other bare chest.  “I bet she feels really good.” He scoffed. Bob shook with anger in his face. He blinked slowly as Ronan leaned forward to him. “Just between us.” He whispers. 

“How does she feel?” He questions with a wide smirk. Bob’s mouth widened as he spat dark red onto the man’s, he cackled as the man fell over onto the floor. He smirked with red blood coloring his teeth. “

How does that feel, huh?” He wiped his mouth on his jacket, spitting at the man again. His eye in fury looked at the captive man. 

“I’m not fucking telling you anything.” He spoke up. 

“Get him up,put him in the chamber.” Ronan ordered in fury. 

The two men forced the blonde up from his chair dragging him into a no longer functioning furnace. Both men climb inside, forcing the pilot to the metal floor. Ronan towered over him, bending on his knees. He cut’s Bob’s tape from his ankle, keeping his hand bound.  “See how you feel without a little bit of air.” He tells him. “In the morning he is done.” Ronan says, walking out. His blue eyes looked at him fearfully. The two men exit, closing the steel door with the slam of the latch. He choked as he felt the oxygen leave the room almost instantly.

⏁⏁⏁

THE TWO MEN SMIRKED, both inhaling on the end’s of their cigarettes, the star’s began to fade away, dawn approaching in a short hour. Four men played guard to their prisoner as they waited for the boss to give an answer to what they would do with him.  Two stayed outside while two more watched downstairs in the basement. 

“How much did you win from that game?” Yellow bandana ask the man in black black, his brows furrowed as he thought. 

“11 grand.” He signs, yellow nodded impressed with his partner. “Shit, wish I had that.” He says, from the shoot that led down to the basement, a man in a black baseball cap and purple bandana emerged. 

“What are you doing?” Yellow asks him, he climbs over looking at the both of them.  “Taking a piss.” He signed, they grimaced as they shook head’s at him.

“So how long did you stay there?” He asked his friend, and he shrugged. “About twenty years, then I left.” He answers. 

“Damn man.”He sign’s off, a grunt in the distance catche’s their attention. They spun around to look at the other end of the factory.  The other guard return’s, adjusting his hat. 

“Get clogged up?” Black bandana signs, he looked up, flipping them the obscene gesture with his middle finger. They chuckled as they kept smoking. 

Downstairs the guard climbed back down, his boot’s thumping heavily against the ground as his baggy jacket swung around.  In the center of the basement, Bob remained tied to the chair he was in. His face littered with different blow and cut, his arm’s slumped down as he looked only at his feet. 

“Damn that was quick.” Green bandana comments, he nodded in agreement as he circled the room looking at the prisoner. Green slumped against his chair, holding on to his crossbow. 

“He ain't talking, guess we took it all out of him.” He commented, he looked at the stack of tires next to him, the polaroid photos still laying there. He smirked, reaching for them as he admired them. 

“Fuck.” He grumbled with a lick of his lips, he looked at the battered man sitting across from him

“You know if we find your lady you mind if I have a spin with her?” He asks him. 

“It’s cool if you do..but im keeping this photo right here.” He tells him holding up the nude photo of Cami, his stare staying on the ground.

 “Hope you understand..I don't get much action these days if you know what I mean.” Green scoff’s. 

“You don't but that’s alright.” He grumbled, the man looked down at the photograph again, his palm kneading the end of his pant’s. 

 “Damn.” He whispers. Green leaned over to purple, he stops as he looks at him. “Ever seen a rack like this?” He asks cackling, purple’s deep laugh’s slowly at his friend as he admires the photo. 

He lunged forward, wrapping his arm under his windpipe, locking him in place as he gasped for air, clawing at purple’s arm’s as he desperately clung to air. His slowly closed shut as his body fell slump, unconscious. Bob furrowed his brow confused at his actions. 

“Why did you do that?” He wonder’s, purple turned around marching over to him, unsheathing a knife from his waist, cutting through his ankle restraints.  “Why are you helping me?” He wonders. 

“Because who else loves you enough to come after you.” A female voice say’s, his heart flutters as he recognizes the deep brown eyes that looked up at him. He smiled warmly as she removed her bandana. 

“Cami?” He breathed out. She caressed his cheek, running her thumb softly over the cut’s on his face.

 “What did they do?” She asked in disbelief.

 “They tried to break me.” He whisper’s out, she shakes her head getting up, she grunt’s cutting through the duct tape around his wrist. He groan at the pressure leaving his hand’s, and she walked around. He brought his hands to her cheek’s, cressing the scratches and cuts on her cheeks. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked her, his thumb running over the dried brown stain on her cheek, she shook her head.  “I'm fine.” Cami stated. 

“Did they hurt you?” He asks again, she grabs his hand pulling them away from her.  “No..save your voice, we don't have much time.” She tells him. 

“What are you talking about?” He wonders, shaking his head confused. She looked down at the unconscious man, she walked over to him snatching his bandana off his face tossing it to her boyfriend. 

“You put that on, his jacket should fit you.” She explains, she collected the thing’s removed from his sack, shoving the polaroid photos in the bottom.  “You're gonna go upstairs, pretend to be him.” She order’s. 

“Okay then what?” He ask’s her, she grunts as she takes off the heavy jacket from the bandit, tossing it back to him. 

“He comes back down here, I will knock him out.” She explains. He hadn't seen her this way before, taking charge and so focused. It almost scared him, and helped him with how was feeling. 

He wanted to tear these men apart for even daring to mess with them, for even thinking of touching her the way he does. She picked up the crossbow from the ground, reloading it, turning to look at him. 

“When you get up there, knock out the last guard, we aren't too far from the boat and I already put our bag’s there.” Camiele quickly explained to him, he nodded his head compiling. He put his arm through the large jacket, wrapping the green bandana on his face. 

 “How did you find me?” He wonder’s, she turned on her heels. “What my uncle taught me.” She tells him blankly. 

“I cant believe they fucking took you.” She grumbled, her shoulders tense as moved things around. His mouth parted at her fury. 

“Did you kill them?” He asked her, and she stopped. 

“Not me, the creature heard one when he tried to kill me.” She state’s, his heart pounded at her fast pace. 

 “It doesn't matter if we have to do this now or never.” She continued. He grabbed her hand as she walked by, she looked at him in his teary blue eyes as he stared at her. Without his glasses, he truly looked like a battered man with each bruise that was forming on his tan skin. 

“You didn't leave.” He says, her gaze softened for a moment. “Never.” She whispered, she leaned forward on her tiptoes kissing his cheek. She pressed her forehead against his. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” She whispered, pulling away, he adjusted his cap on his head. He walked over to the ladder, turning to look at her. Good luck, she signed to him. 

He takes a deep breath as he begins to climb to the hatch. He carefully pushed up the lid, setting it back up. His heart pounded in his ears as he swung his leg’s over the metal, he strided over to the two men chain smoking. 

They laughed, turning to him.  Yellow raised a brow at him. “Switched already?” He signed to him. 

“Yeah, he’s in the chamber.” He signed in response. Black scoffed.  “Being mouthy again?” He asks him. 

“I ought to teach em something about respecting superior’s.” Black sneared, bob’s shoulders shook in anger, he cleared his throat. 

“Well do it then.” He signed with a dark chuckle. 

Black nodded his head, flicking his cigarette. He patted green on the shoulders as he paced over to the shoot.  Bob leaned against the brick wall, looking out at the skyline as the sun had picked through the yellow and blue night. 

Yellow tap’s the ground. “With all these people coming back, maybe we will find that place.” He tells him, he raised a brow.  They kept asking about the island, mentioning something about a wife. 

“I don't know I kind of like this.” Bob played along, yellow took a drag of his cancer stick blowing out smoke. 

“What?” He asks him. He shrugged.

 “Getting killer view’s like this.” He pointed out at the sky, Yellow turned his head, leaning out, he smirked under his facial covering. It looked like something witnessed in a painting, with each color perfectly chosen. The man gagged as the windpipe was blocked, he clawed at the arm that choked him. Yellow grunt’s he elbowed the man behind him, Bob stumbled back, he panted holding his bruised rib. 

Yellow’s eyes darkened, he tackled him onto the concrete. Bob huffed as he clawed at him with the strength he had left, the man on top of him growled as he wrapped his fingers around his throat, squeezing the air from his lungs. 

Bob gagged as he scratched at his face, pushing his face cover off him. Yellow’s smiled looking down at him, he gasped as sharp pain was felt into his back, he turned over his shoulder seeing a woman with a dark braid. 

He gripped the blade that stuck out his back, his eyes widened as he removed it from his back, hissing with his teeth as he held up the blood soaked metal to the rising sun. He grunts as he swung at the young woman. 

She ducked, kicking him away from her. Yellow’s arm’s are restricted as he backs into a wall, into a person. Bob grunted as he pushed the blade away from himself, keeping his feet firmly placed on the ground, pressing deep against the brick as the man fought hard. 

With his free hand he gripped the man’s hand, plunging the knife into his throat. The blood dripped down his mouth as he stumbled around, desperately stopping the blood that gushed out, finally collapsing to the ground with a gurgle. Bob sighed in relief, turning around. His hand shaking as his heart pounded, he couldn't believe what he had done, he had killed a man. He didn't think he was actually capable of actually killing someone, much less stabbing one.

Cami’s breath shake’s as she extends her arm’s bringing him close. The morning cold shivered up and down her body, he placed his chin on her forehead as they held each other. Her brown eyes rolled into the back of her head as she began to feel faint. She fell forward into his chest, he grunted catching her with both of his arm’s as she laid limp against him. 

⏁⏁⏁

DAWN HAD finally come, shining through the windows of the small home. On the plaid couch in front of the fireplace, Camile laid asleep, a fluffy blue blanket clutched against her body. She groaned, turning over as her brown eyes slowly fluttered open. 

Her eye’s slowly adjusted to the bright light that shined. She recognised where she was, the familiar scent of cedarwood and bayberry filling her nose, bit’s of clothing on the floor and on the mantle photos from the world before. She was home.

She didn't have time to relax as her tongue watered with an awful taste, she clutched her mouth as she leaned over to the teal trash bin next to her, emptying the contents of her stomach into it, she gagged as the potent smell filled her nose. 

She moaned in relief leaning back against the couch. The floorboard creaks making her perk up, she turned over looking in the kitchen arch way. There stood her boyfriend, wearing jeans and a dark green henley shirt, unbutton at the top. “Are you okay?” Bob ask’s her, she nodded her head touching her forehead. 

He walked over to her, a plate in hand as he sat on the coffee table. His face was cleaned up, the cut’s on his head covered with a small white bandage. A bruise painted his lip’s, his bifocal covered most of the damage done to his eyebrow. 

“What happened?” Cami wonder’s, he sighed.  “You passed out, and I had to drag you to the boat.” He explained plainly, he handed her a cup of water with two red tablets in his hand. 

“You have been asleep since this morning, and I had you checked out at the infirmary, you weren't hurt.” Bob reassures her, his voice low and raspy, probably from the suffocation. 

Cami groaned sitting up, her bare legs being met with the brisk and warm air of the small cottage. She looked down, she guessed that he had changed her clothes for her, graciously he kept her shirt on. 

“What about you?” She wondered, he shrugged the question off. “Couple bruised ribs, busted lip and eye brow, fancy shiner growing on my forehead as for my eye’s.” He stop’s, her eye’s widened. 

“What..what is it?!” Cami asked concern, his blue eyes met her dark eyes. 

 “I don't think I can see very well.” He tells her, his lip’s forming a mischievous smirk, she shook her head at his behavior.  

“Not funny.” She scold’s him. He bit his lip shaking his head. “Couldn't resist.” He says. 

She leaned forward, taking the drink from him, swallowing the water and pill’s. Slushed the water around in her mouth to get rid of the puke taste, spitting into the bin next to her. She groaned holding herself. 

“Feels Like I was hit by a truck.” She joked to him, laughing weakly. Her hair had bit’s coming out, he knew not to touch her hair unless she allowed him to, she allowed her hair to grow long then ceremoniously she cut it when she knew it was time. 

“Well I can imagine.” He says, she looked up at him. 

“Bob..I’m sorry..I should have been on guard..you were just trying to help me and I just.” She stuttered out, he shook his head. He placed his hand on her’s.  “Stop-it wasn't anyone’s fault, and definitely not yours, Cam.” He reassures her. 

“We both knew they were in the city, and you got hurt trying to help me.” Cami countied, he shook his head. “I should have fu- I should have just stayed.” She mumbled. 

“You didn't, and you didn't leave me behind either.” Bob reminds her, his voice soft with reassurance.  “You fought like hell.” 

“And would do the same for you in a heartbeat.” He state’s, her heart skipped a beat in her chest, her eye’s darting between his as she relaxed, his hand’s holding her own. She looked down. 

“What is it?” He wonder’s, his calloused hand rubbed circle’s on her palm. She took a deep breath building up the courage in herself. “Bob..I uh.” She stop’s. She inhaled again. “I think I’m pregnant.” She revealed, his lips parted as he stared at her. 

His heart pounded as his mind began to flood with image’s as thing’s finally added up. Cami looked at his concern, the color left his face as he just stared up at her in shock and confusion. 

“Are…are you sure?” He mumbled, she shrugged her shoulders unsure. “I think so, I mean look at the signs right?” She chuckled, he blinked, running his fingers through his hair. “You're not..mad are you?” Camile asked, her heart dropped to her stomach at the thought of him leaving. He shook his head as his mouth began to form a smile. He placed his hand on her shoulders. 

“No No I'm not mad, I could not be mad at that.” He gushed excited, he laughed as he brought her into a hug. He vibrated against his shoulder as he crushed her in a bear hugger. Cami smiled against him as he slowly rocked her back and forth. 

“Please tell me this is actually happening, please.” He pleaded with her, his hand shaking against her back. She chuckled, nodding into his shoulders.

“Cam, that's amazing.” He gushed. 

“It’s all real I swear.” She gushed. He pulled away from her, wiping away the tears that stained his cheek. “Oh don't cry.” 

“I’m not–I just can't help it.” Bob tell’s her, she shakes her head as she leaned forward, pulling by his cheek, inhaling  deeply as she kissed him. His free hand caressed her waist, his thumb grazing over stomach. She pulled away as she embraced him once more, the sunlight illuminates their shadows onto the hardwood floor.

TAGGED: @sorchathered @fairyheart @mamsieur @sugarcoated-lame @sebsxphia

[builtbybrokenbells]

Hate To Love You | ii

Read part one here

Read part three here

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, female masturbation, slight touch of (consenting!!) voyeurism, fingering (f!receiving), dirty talk, a bit of choking, unprotected sex (god please wear protection, im sorry i keep doing this), sex in a sort of kinda public place, shower sex, continuing to have sex while someone is talking to you ? Idk what that’s called but yeah, that, swearing, talking about toxic ex’s, fluff, angst, love triangle shit, sad Danny and Sammy (very much deserves a warning), sorry if I missed anything!

without further ado, here’s part two! Hope you enjoy :) also fair warning that this is actually kind of filthy by times 😭 I’m unsure of where that came from, but anyway. beware, this kind of has emotions all over the place. also disclaimer, I set this up as a terrible situation right from the beginning because for some reason i literally live for writing angst. i only started this fic bc i knew how i wanted it to end. it’s a character flaw now ig. please be kind and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

~

Your heart drummed in your chest as your hand slipped around the doorknob, opening the door and sliding through the crack. You let out a sigh of relief when the latch clicked behind you with no interruptions. See, the plan was that there was no plan. Just you and Sam inconspicuously sneaking off at different times and hoping nobody would notice that you’d both magically disappeared without a trace. So far, it had worked out in your favour. And if it hadn’t, nobody had said anything yet. It definitely wasn’t the smartest course of action, but it was the one you were going with. You decided you would reap the consequences when they made themselves known.

You took a seat on the couch of Sam’s dressing room, crossing your legs and leaning into the arm. Their set finished in five minutes, which was your cue to get moving. In no way were you willing to be caught sneaking into his room by one of his brothers after they got off stage. You checked your phone to see if you had any missed messages, but the screen was blank. You pulled up your camera, checking your hair and makeup to make sure you looked good. You sighed as you clicked your screen shut, tapping your fingers against the leather of the sofa with growing impatience.

The boys has started a small tour, just for about a month, and it was wrapping up in the next week. But, the month had been too long for your liking. It had been weeks since you’d seen Sam, or any of the others, for that matter. They had a show booked for a venue a few cities over from where you were living. You had managed to convince their tour manager, which you’d met a few times in the past, to sneak you in the back door so you could surprise Sam. Guilt was creeping up on you for not telling Danny about your arrival, but you were desperate to see the boy who’d been occupying your mind for weeks on end. You loved your best friend, but Sam had somehow wormed his way into your heart and showed no signs of leaving. He consumed almost every one of your thoughts. He’d been plaguing your phone with messages of missing you, and some rather provocative voice messages and photographs. He was making sure you wouldn’t forget about him. Little did he know, it wasn’t even a possibility that you could. So, you packed up for the weekend when the chance arose, just so you could curb the need for his company for a few more days.

So far, to the best of your knowledge, he had no idea. Before you’d arrived that night, Sam had texted you his daily countdown of how many days were left until he could see you. You were quite confident that you were still in the clear. One thing you hadn’t really thought out was how you were going to leave the venue without anyone knowing you’d been in there. And also, how the hell you were going to sneak in and out of his hotel room. You’d worry about that later, though. All you were concerned with was seeing the boy who’d been occupying your mind every night for weeks on end.

You’d fully intended on telling everyone about your’s and Sam’s new found relationship the night it had begun. Somewhere along the lines, the plan was lost in translation. The sneaking around had become thrilling, to say the least. Pretending to hate each other like usual, but sneaking off to a bathroom to make out, sneaking touches when no one was looking or from under the table, or leaving parties ten minutes after each other to go back to Sam’s place, was kind of hot. Plus, the idea of growing the relationship together first, making sure it would last before announcing it to everyone seemed most logical in your brain. But, above all, you were terrified of hurting Danny by telling him. Realistically, you knew deep down it might hurt him more by hiding it, but you were terrified of being the person to cause him any sort of pain. This had been dragging on for months now, no end in sight.

You were jolted back to reality when you had heard laughing and shuffling from the hallway. You immediately sat up, straightening yourself out. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips, practically vibrating with excitement. You were eager to see his reaction when he came in. When the doorknob twisted, your heart could have exploded. The door pushed open and Sam stepped inside, not noticing you immediately. The door fell shut behind him with a thud. He was glistening with sweat, hair sticking to his neck, shirtless and barefoot. You had to stop yourself from giggling at the sight.

“Great show you put on, Sammy. Think I’d be able to get an autograph?” You asked sweetly. His head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. It took him a moment to process what was in front of him.

“Y/n?” He asked, still barely believing you were there. You jumped up, running over to him. He picked you up in a hug, kissing you as if it was the last time he ever would. You didn’t care if he was sweaty, you were just happy you were finally back in his arms. “What are you doing here?” He questioned, still holding you. Your legs were wrapped around him, his hands supporting your bum.

“I couldn’t wait any longer to see you, and I pulled some strings at work.” You whispered, kissing him again. It was soft, but imminent, showing him all the emotion you had pent up since he left. “I missed you so much, Sammy.” You whispered against his lips.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” He said, resting his forehead on yours. “Does anyone else know you’re here?” He asked, gently letting you back down to the ground. You shook your head.

“As much as I love everyone else, I just needed to see you.” He understood what you meant, feeling the same way. “I drove here, so maybe I can just sneak out and meet you at your hotel once you get there?” You asked, hopeful. For the first time so far, sneaking around was much less than hot and way more of a pain in the ass.

“I mean, yeah, if you’d like to do that, we can.” He said, brushing some stray hairs from your eyes. “As long as I get to sleep next to you tonight, I’ll be happy.” He admitted. You couldn’t agree more.

“I just wanted to surprise you, I didn’t really think it all out too much. Five days just seemed so long.” You laughed, feeling a little dumb.

“That’s okay,” he rushed out “I’m more than happy to see you, trust me.” He let his fingers trail over your jaw, then down your neck and landing his palm on the back of your neck. He pulled you in for another kiss, much hungrier than the last. You could feel the shift in the dynamic before it was even over. “Bathroom, now.” He ordered once he’d pulled away. The sweet side vanished, quickly overpowered by desire.

“Why?” You cocked an eyebrow, challenging him.

“Because you’re going to get in the shower with me, and I’m going to fuck you.” He stated, simply. His eyes showed no hint of joking.

“I don’t want to ruin my hair and makeup. I prettied myself up just for you.” You smirked, knowing your disobedience to the order would get him going. “Don’t you want to appreciate it, first?”

“Oh, I have.” He paused, eyes looking you up and down. “I’m not going to say it again; go to the bathroom and take your clothes off.” He growled. You tilted your head to the side, staying in place, a sweet smile stuck on your lips. You always found it fun to mess with him. He was already tired of waiting for you, his patience never really existing in the first place.

“Make me.” Your cheekiness was quickly brought to a halt when he reached up, taking your throat in his hand. He was careful not to apply too much pressure, still terrified to hurt you in any way. He smiled, admiring the look on your face. He caught your lips in a kiss before tightening his grip slightly.

“I don’t think you want me to have to do that, sweetheart.” He whispered. You gave a nod, feeling your arousal pooling between your legs. “Now get in there and take your fucking clothes off.” You weren’t sure if Sam had normally been dominant in the bedroom, or if it was an extension of your relationship dynamic from almost the entire time you’d known him. Either way, you weren’t complaining.

He let you go, putting a little force behind it as he did so. You stopped yourself from stumbling and turned on your heels quickly, making your way to the bathroom without another word. You wasted no time ridding your clothes from your body, leaning against the counter to wait for him. You heard shuffling in the other room, presumably just Sam straightening some things out before he joined you. Your mind wandered to what he was going to do with you once he got you in the shower. You were out of your mind with anticipation; you had no idea how you went so long without having sex before Sam. Now that you were with him, it was all you wanted to do.

You couldn’t help but let your thoughts consume you, reaching a hand down between your legs for some type of satisfaction. You ran your fingers through your wetness, spreading it up to your clit, rubbing small circles. A gasp fell from your lips as you did so, but you couldn’t help but wish it was Sam’s fingers instead. You found yourself lost in the moment, not even noticing when the door opened until you heard someone speak. “You couldn’t even wait for me, princess?” A disapproving tone broke you from your concentration you quickly moved your hand, embarrassed to be caught. Sam moved towards you, now only clad in a pair of boxers. He grabbed your arm, roughly putting your fingers back to where they were before he’d interrupted. “I didn’t tell you to stop.” He reminded.

You watched him, cheeks flushed, trying to process what he was saying. His jaw was hard set, clearly worked up himself. Slowly, you returned to touching yourself, waiting for his approval. He took a step back, allowing himself full view. His breath caught in his throat. “Get up on the counter.” He demanded. You did as you were told without question, placing your hands on the cool surface and hoisting yourself up. You watched him watch you, feeling a knot form in your stomach. It had been far too long since he’d seen you like this. You placed your hands between your legs once more, but feeling a bit nervous being on display. “Don’t be shy, baby.” He said, reaching out and spreading your legs for you. “You wouldn’t have been touching yourself in here if you didn’t want me to catch you.” He said. Your eyes fluttered up to meet his. “Am I wrong?” You shook your head ‘no’. Although it wasn’t your original intent, a small part of you definitely wanted him to walk in on you. “Use your words.” He demanded.

“No, Sammy.” You said softly, feeling the anxiety slipping away.

“That’s what I thought.” His voice was gravelly. You could tell by his tone he was trying not to take you right there, but he was a bit too cocky to give in so quickly. “Get yourself off.” He ordered.

“Sam-“ you began to protest, but he cut you off.

“Shut up.” He snapped. You stopped, immediately scared that he wouldn’t allow you an orgasm at all. I said, get yourself off.” His hand was still on your knee. Although his tone was harsh, the loving circles he’d been tracing into your skin assured you it was an act. “Then, I’ll make you cum.” He assured you. “I just want to see how you did it while I was gone. Did you think of me?”

“Mmhmm.” You mumbled softly, picking up the pace in which you were rubbing yourself. “Wished it was you every time.” You mumbled.

“Oh so it was more than once?” Arrogance was radiating from him, but you couldn’t help but watch him with nothing but admiration. “Answer me, beautiful.” He said palming himself through his boxers.

“All of the time.” You answered truthfully. You let in a sharp inhale, feeling yourself getting close to your climax.

“I can’t wait to fuck you.” He admitted, hand trailing up your bare thigh. You could tell he was struggling not to touch you.

“You gonna show me how much you missed me, Sammy?” You wanted to put on a show for him, hooking your leg around his waist and pulling him closer to you. He let out a groan at your actions, tightening his fingers around your leg. “Are you gonna fuck me?”

“Don’t worry about what I’m going to do.” He spat, still rubbing himself, trying to get some relief. “Just worry about you. I’m getting impatient. If you don’t hurry up you may not get to cum at all.” You did as he said, quickening your pace and adding your fingers to the mix with your unoccupied hand. “That’s it, gorgeous.” He sighed, his eyes focused on your cunt. With the added stimulation of your other hand, you were painfully close to your climax. You threw your head back, closing your eyes and letting out a moan. Sam acted fast, grabbing your face in his hand and forcing your head back down. “Look at me. I want to watch you.” The statement caused your hands to stutter.

With his eyes locked on yours, gaze unwavering, you gave into the pleasure. Your orgasm hit you hard, way harder than it had in the past weeks. His eyes hardened, scared if he looked away from you, you’d disappear. Your own eyes rolled back in your head as you rode the high, desperate for air. “S-sammy!” You stuttered, almost as if you were praying to him.

“That’s it, baby.” He muttered, bringing your lips to his. He was painfully hard, already planning on getting you right off the counter into the shower. When he pulled away, you removed your hands from yourself, to which he immediately replaced them with his own. A strangled cry came from your mouth as his calloused fingertips brushed over your overly sensitive clit, but he didn’t stop.

“Sam, please,” you pleaded, trying to push his hands away.

“Stop it, you’re fine.” And he was right, you were. After a few moments of unbearable sensitivity, the euphoric feeling had hit you ten times harder. You were practically screaming your noises of pleasure, only fuelling him further. “Come on, princess.” He whispered, working his fingers into you. “I want you to cum like that for me.” And you did, clenching around his hand while crying his name. Tears were welling in your eyes as your legs shook, hips locked in a solid position. Your throat was hoarse, and you were sure the entire venue would have heard you if not for the concrete walls.

Just when you thought he would coddle you, maybe pull you in for a kiss, he removed himself from you completely. He walked to the shower, flicking the tap on. He threw his boxers away hastily and returned to your side. He didn’t utter a word as he picked you up. “Legs around me, now.” He ordered. You did as best you could to obey, barely being in the conscious mind. He stepped into the shower, still holding you, and pressed your back against the wall. The cool tile felt nice on your warm skin. He supported you with one hand while lining himself up with you with his other. He pulled you down on him, eliciting a groan from you. “Fuck I missed you,” he muttered, withdrawing his hips slightly and pushing himself back in. He stayed slow in that position, wanting to enjoy being close to you again without getting too intense. His head was buried in your neck, whispering sweet nothings while he sucked and bit marks into your skin.

“I love you, Sammy.” You mumbled, so fucked out you were barely aware of what you were saying. He paused his movement entirely, pulling his head away from you. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t-“ you rushed out, finally coming to your senses. When he dropped you to your feet, your stomach churned with anxiety. He didn’t say a word, but watched you meticulously. You were starting to panic, tears rushing to your eyes. “I’ll just… I’m gonna g-go.” You excused yourself, making a move to get out of the shower. He grabbed your waist, his fingers searing into your skin. He pushed you against the wall of the shower so your chest was flush, but pulled your hips back towards him.

“Say it again.” He barked, his hand now gripping your shoulder. He lined himself back up with you.

“What?” You questioned, unsure of what was going on.

“Fucking say it again.” He hissed.

“I- I love you, Sam.” You said with more certainty. He pushed himself into you, moving his hand to your hip. The steam from the heat of the shower was filling your senses, sending you back into euphoria as he started to fuck you again.

“Again.” He pleaded, all tones of assertion gone, replaced with a touch of desperation.

“I love you, Sammy.” You repeated, confident this time. His hips sped, pushing your face into the tile with every thrust. Something had taken over him, he was more animalistic with you than he’d ever been. You were driving him crazy by saying it. He leaned down, leaving love bites all over your shoulders, gripping you so hard you were sure he’d leave bruises. You let out a blissful moan as he hit your g-spot. He continued on at that angle, loving the noises you’d been making for him.

A knock sounded at the door just as you were both reaching your peak. You expected him to pull out, or at least slow down, but he continued on. “Brother?” Someone called out from the other side of the door.

“Yeah?” Sam yelled back, voice unfaltering.

“You okay, man? You’ve been in there for a while. We’re getting ready to head to the bar.” You could recognize the voice as Josh’s. You had been trying to stay as silent as possible, but Sam did not make it easy. He’d slipped his hand around to the front of you, fingers dancing over your already abused clit.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t feel too good, don’t know what hit me.” He lied so effortlessly that even you could have believed him if not for him being inside of you.

“Oh, okay, man. You think you’re gonna join us? Should we wait up?” He questioned. A whimper fell from your lips as he had hit the perfect spot. His free hand clamped around your mouth.

“No, you guys can go. I’ll be done here soon, then I’ll probably go to the hotel and call it an early night.” You couldn’t understand how his voice was so steady. You chalked it up to him singing and talking while he jumped around on stage.

“Okay, text us if you change your mind and we’ll let you know where we are.” Josh yelled.

“Will do!” Sam answered. He waited a moment until he heard the bang of the main door shutting, then he removed his hand from your mouth.

“What the fuck was that, Sam?” You whispered, still scared Josh would overhear you.

“You certainly weren’t complaining.” He muttered, slamming his hips back into you. You let out a gasp. “Actually, I think you’re gonna cum.” He said, smugly. He was correct. Damn him for knowing your body too well. He swirled his fingers over your clit a few more times before you unravelled, slurring out profanities. “That’s it, baby.” Sam groaned, not far behind you. “Tell me you love me again.” He ordered once you can down from your high.

“I love you.” You said softly, no tone of arrogance or anything other than honesty. He took a sharp intake of breath and reached his own orgasm, moaning your name and pulling you back down on him as it happened. He rested in you for a moment, just basking in the closeness. Eventually, he withdrew and you turned to face him.

“I love you, too, baby.” He said, eyes drooping with exhaustion. You couldn’t help but smile at the confession. “I love you so much.” He sighed, pulling your chin up so he could lean down to kiss you. “We seem to have a thing for fucking in bathrooms, though.” He stated once you broke apart. You both laughed at the statement.

You finished your shower with him, both of you slipping out and wrapping yourselves in towels. You dried off and picked up your clothes, making a move to go back to the main room. He followed closely behind, not wanting you to leave his sight. When you dropped your towel, he gave your ass a smack. You jumped in surprise, letting out a giggle. He went over to his bag and grabbed a hoodie and sweatpants, tossing them in your direction. “Here, if you’d like to leave undetected.” He smiled. You nodded, slipping on the bottoms. You had to cuff the sweatpants quite a few times and tie the drawstrings, but you made it work. You threw his hoodie on, leaving the hood up.

You revelled in the confines of the sweater, breathing in the scent. It smelled just like him and it warmed your heart. “You look good in my clothes.” He said, pulling on another pair of his pants. That was one thing you had to laugh at, Sam packed a bag like a middle aged woman on vacation; two outfits for every occasion. He grabbed his wallet from a pile of his things and opened it, pulling out a hotel keycard. “I got two at check in, cause I always end up losing one.” He chuckled. “Guess it really came in handy, this time.” He handed it to you. “The room number’s written on it too.” You slipped it in your pocket.

“Guess so, baby.” You said, giving him a smile. He leaned down to place another kiss to your lips. You held him there for a moment, never wanting to lose the feeling. When you pulled away, you let your hand rest on his cheek. “I’m gonna head out, try and avoid everyone.” You informed him.

“Sure,” he said, pulling you into a hug. “I’ll be there soon. Be safe.”

“I will, Sammy.” You said, making your way to the door. “Oh, uh, can you bring my clothes back with you?” You asked, suddenly embarrassed at your earlier interaction. A blush rose to your cheeks. He laughed at you, nodding his head at your request.

“Of course.” He followed you as you left, leaning against the doorway as you walked out. He watched you make your way to the exit, smiling to himself.

“Hey, who’s that?” A voice sounded from beside him. Sam looked to see Danny standing, watching you walk away, too.

“Oh, uh, just some chick from the front row.” Sam brushed it off. “Asked security to pull her back here before she left.” He lied quickly, trying to cover his own ass.

“Ah, I see,” Danny said. “And you let her take your clothes home?”

“Yeah, just old shit anyway. Figured I’d never miss it.”

“Uh huh,” Danny paused, knowing that the clothes in question were some of his favourites. “And how do you think y/n would feel if she found out you were fucking groupies?” Sam nearly choked on his breath, whipping his head to look at Danny.

“What?” He asked, in disbelief.

“Come on, man. We all know. You think you guys are being sneaky, but we know you both way too well.” He chuckled. “Just wish you guys would have told me, you know?” He said before he walked off.

“Wait, Danny!” Sam called to him, but he wasn’t turning around.

“Also, you guys are obnoxiously loud.” He said before disappearing around the corner.

“Fuck,” Sam muttered to himself, turning on his heels and walking back into his room.

•

You pushed through the door of the hotel, taking in the sight of the front lobby. It was beautiful. You didn’t have too much experience with hotels, or travel. Your parents were quite poor growing up, and you never really broke the curse as you grew into adulthood. Hotels and anything of the sort, no matter if they were five star or not, were quite luxurious to you. The lady at the front desk gave you a warm smile as you passed by. You mumbled a hello, returning her gesture. You went directly to the elevator, pressing the button to go upstairs. The doors swung open, inviting you inside.

You looked at the paper holder containing the keycard, seeing the room number written messily on the outside of it. You clicked the floor number and waited. You laughed at the messy penmanship; Sam could be so forgetful by times. Luckily, this time around, it really worked in your favour. The ding of the elevator broke you from your thoughts. The doors parted and you stepped into the hallway. Your legs carried you down the hall, eyes scanning the bold black numbers labelling the rooms.

You landed in front of the room that matched the number on the card, swiping the key in front of the sensor. The electronic lock clicked open and you stepped inside. Upon first inspection, it was so blatantly clear that this was Sam’s room. His cologne was still present in the air from before he’d left for the venue, a towel was left on the bathroom floor, and a few different outfits were strewn on the bed. The blankets were messy and the pillows were all over the mattress. You smiled to yourself, dropping your bag by the T.V. stand and immediately crawling in the mess of pillows, pulling the blanket over you. The pillowcase smelled like Sam’s shampoo, inviting you in and lulling you to sleep. It had been far too long since you fell asleep surrounded by him.

Without even realizing it, you drifted off into a slumber more peaceful than any you’d had while he was away.

About thirty minutes later, Sam was unlocking the door himself and making his way inside. He dropped his own bag by the door, kicking off his shoes. When he looked to the bed, his heart melted at the sight of you. He walked over, carefully sitting on the bed beside you. He ran a hand through your still damp hair, gently brushing out any knots. As you began to stir, he leaned down and placed a kiss on your head. You let out a small groan, slowly coming back to life. You stretched out your legs, taking in a large breath as your eyes fluttered open. “Well, hello, sleepyhead.” Sam said softly, hand still tangled in your hair. “Have a good nap?” You couldn’t help but smile. It had felt like an eternity since you’d woken up next to him.

“Would’ve been better if you were here.” You whispered.

“Good thing I’m here now, then.” He said. He wasn’t sure if he should tell you about his interaction with Danny earlier, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness of the reunion. He knew he’d have to eventually, but right now just didn’t seem like the time for it. You opened your arms, reaching out for him to lay beside you. “Just a second.” He promised, standing up. He took off his shirt leaving himself just in his sweatpants. You watched him, silently admiring him as he moved. You made a move to take your pants off, wanting as much closeness with him as you could get. You tossed them onto the floor beside you, scooting over a bit to give him some more room to climb in.

He picked up the comforter, sliding in next to you and wasting no time pulling you to his chest. The warmth of his body immediately relaxed you. “I know I already said it, but I missed you, Sammy.” You mumbled, eyes closing once more.

“I missed you too, baby.” He said, his hand snaking under your far too large sweatshirt, caressing the skin on your hip. “I promise I’ll take you out on a date when we get home, I just want to be here with you tonight. I want you all to myself.” He admitted.

“Me too,” you agreed. You both sat in silence for a moment, not moving, just soaking up each others company. Eventually, he pulled you on top of him, settling you between his legs. Your head rested on his stomach, your arms brought to your chest, curling the blanket up to your chin. He played with the ends of your hair, letting the locks fall through his long fingers.

“Did you mean what you said, earlier?” He asked.

“Which part?” You asked for clarification.

“That you loved me.” His hands worked their way up to your scalp, gently massaging it. You let out a hum of pleasure at the feeling.

“Yeah, I did, Sammy.” You whispered, your own hand now moving to his stomach, tickling his skin with your fingertips. The muscles in his abdomen flexed at the contact, causing a small giggle to fall from you. “Of course I did.” You added. “I was scared that it was too soon, you looked almost… mad when I said it. But I meant it.” He laughed quietly at your words, finding it ridiculous that you thought he’d be mad at you.

“I wasn’t mad, y/n. Shocked, yeah, for sure. I wasn’t expecting you to say it.” He admitted. “But I’ve been waiting to hear you say that since the day I met you. If that was the only thing you said to me for the rest of my life, I’d be happy.” His hand that wasn’t knotted in your hair came down on top of yours, lacing your fingers together. “Why would you think I’d be mad at you?” He whispered now, gentle with his tone. You stayed silent for a moment, unsure of how to answer him.

“I don’t know… I guess I’m just so used to my past boyfriends being mad at me all of the time. I suppose it’s just in my nature to expect you to be mad, or assume I did something wrong.” You confessed. His heart leapt at the use of the word boyfriend. That had not been discussed yet, but he certainly didn’t mind the sound of it. On the other hand, he was curious. He’d never heard you talk much about your former partners.

“You can talk about it, if you want.” He didn’t want to pry, but he did want to know more. He gave you the option to tell him or not.

“I don’t know, Sammy.” You sighed. “Not much of a story, I guess. I’ve only had one other boyfriend. He was a dick. I dated him all through high school and moved in with him after graduation. He was mean and I didn’t know that it wasn’t how I should be treated. I didn’t know anything else.” A frown encased his lips. “He never let me go out, or have any friends. He wanted me to do anything he wanted whenever he wanted it. He always wanted to fight with me and according to him, I could never do anything right. That’s how I met Danny, actually.”

“What do you mean?” Sam never actually got close enough with you to know much about you in the beginning. He knew you were beautiful, funny and kind. He knew you adored Danny, but not why. He knew enough to fall for you, but he really wanted to know you, now. He wanted the little things constantly stored in the back of his head so he could use them as needed. He wanted to know what made you, you.

“After a particularly bad fight, I went to a bar to get some cheap liquor.” You laughed at the memory. “I’m not sure why, but it seemed right at the time. I barely drank back then. But Danny showed up, he was just finishing up with you guys at the studio. He sat beside me and bought some god-awful looking beer.” You shuddered at the thought. No matter how hard Danny tried to convince you it was good, you couldn’t stand the taste of it. “He introduced himself and noticed I’d been crying. He talked to me all night, wanting to know everything about me. It was the first time I’d ever felt…” you pondered for the right word. “Seen.” You finished. “He was the only person in my life by that point, who’d ever cared enough about me to want to know everything. And he barely knew me.” You had to laugh.

Sam felt a rush of jealousy flood through him, but he pushed it aside. “He offered me a place to stay because my boyfriend at the time told me to get out, and that he never wanted to see me again. You know why?” You asked.

“Hmm?” Sam mumbled, still listening intently.

“A male coworker sent me a friend request on Facebook.” You whispered. “It was bound to happen eventually, and I had an apartment lined up just in case. Things had been really bad for a while. But he just kicked me out, he didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. Just opened the door for me like I’d meant nothing to him for six years.”

“That’s terrible, y/n.” Sam consoled you, pulling you closer to him as he spoke. ‘I’d never do that to you.’ He thought to himself.

“Yeah, but I never would’ve ended up here if it didn’t happen.” You reminded him. “But Danny came with me as backup to get my shit from his house. He helped me move into the apartment I live in now. We got wine drunk together and the rest was history. He didn’t care that I was broken. He didn’t care that I had no idea how to make friends, because I was never allowed to have them. Just wanted to be with me.” You shrugged. Sam tried his best to just hear your words rather than think about how Danny felt about you, but he was struggling. “You know, I prayed for months that something would happen, anything to make life better. And he showed up that night. Just waltzed in and changed everything in an instant.”

“You love him, don’t you?” Sam couldn’t help it. The jealousy was surging through him. He wanted to listen to you talk, but his heart was breaking at the words you were saying. You lifted your head to look at him, noticing the expression of worry.

“Yeah, of course I do, Sam.” You were honest. “But it’s never been like that for me.” His body relaxed slightly. “Danny was always meant to be my best friend. He’s been the person I looked for my whole life. Someone to do stupid shit with, to make memories, to be my kids godparent, I love him more than anything, but I’m not in love with him, Sammy.”

“I’m sorry, I know that. I just… yeah.” He muttered. “I just get nervous, I guess. I know how he feels about you. I know how much he cares for you, and you for him. It’s hard to think that he could steal you away at any given moment.” He laughed quietly, more to himself. “You know, it would’ve made so much more sense if you ended up with him. He deserves you way more than I do.” He said, guilt seeping through his pores.

“It was never a matter of ‘deserving’ anything. If I wanted to be with Danny, I would be. I’m in love with you, and I always knew it would end up like this. The minute I met you… it was like all of the bullshit from the past didn’t matter. The pain from the last relationship didn’t hurt, because it brought me to you. It made it all make sense, you know?” You sighed, fingers still dancing with his. “I know we treated each other like shit for a long time, but I always knew. From the minute I saw you, I wanted to love you, to be in love with you. I wanted this, exactly what we’re doing right now.” His heart drummed against his ribs, threatening to break them. He couldn’t believe how much you affected him.

“Me too, baby.” He sighed. “All I want to do is love you; I’m sorry that I was an asshole for so long.” You sat up, moving around to sit on him. You straddled his waist, pulling his face in your hands and running your thumb over his cheek.

“We’re here now, aren’t we? Isn’t that what matters?” He smiled at your words, putting his hands on your hips.

“I guess so.” He agreed, catching your lips in a kiss. “I’m so lucky to be able to love you.” He breathed as you parted ways. “I want to know you. I want to know everything about you; I want to make sure that you know how you deserve to be loved. I hope I can do it properly.”

The sentiment of his words hung over the room like a cloud of serenity. You two enjoyed the alone time, rolling around in the bed, sharing kisses and laughs. You played music softly in the background, singing along to songs that had no meaning to you until that night. The evening dwindled by too quickly for either of your liking, slipping into the late hours of the night and eventually to the earliest ones of the morning. You wanted to live in that moment forever, where nothing was wrong and it was just the two of you making up for lost time. Sam made it so easy to fall for him, with his sweet words, loving touches and fantastic sex. He treated you better than you ever could have imagined a partner doing. The months of romance felt like an eternity; you felt like you’d known him like this your whole life.

Eventually, exhaustion enveloped the two of you and the music that was once fuelling your energy turned into lullabies. Sam was on his side, facing you with his arm draped over your bare torso. Somewhere in the events of the night, you both had ended up naked, but not resulting in a sexual motive. The intimacy of being completely exposed with no intent of sex was beautiful. It was just the two of you seeing each other completely, loving each other fully. Your eyes were drooping, barely being able to hold them open. His were similar, but he was forcing himself to stay awake so he didn’t miss a second of admiring you. His eyes on you, holding so much emotion behind them, felt like pure bliss. Being appreciated by Sam was the greatest feeling you’d ever experienced.

“I love you, princess.” He whispered, voice laced with sleep. “So much.”

“I love you, Sammy.” You said, the words coming straight from your heart. You were sure that you both had said it a million times that night alone, but the novelty of the phrase was too exiting to stop. Finally, the proclamation of emotion you’d both been feeling for so long was in the air, accepted and desired.

“I’m gonna take you to breakfast in the morning, before you have to go. Just me and you.” He promised. You smiled at his words but your chest ached at the realization you’d have to leave him again the next day. Although the time between now and seeing him next was much shorter than the one previous, you didn’t want to be away from him at all.

“I’d like that.”

“Me, too.” You laughed at him, barely awake and still trying to hold a conversation. You had both closed your eyes, finally giving your bodies a chance to rest, just minutes away from sleep. He pulled you closer to him, your head quickly finding its way to the crook of his neck. You drifted to sleep to the scent of him, finally feeling at home.

•

A violent knock on the door shook you both from your slumber. Neither of you had moved from the position you’d fallen asleep in. You both ignored the first knock, figuring it was one of the boys coming back drunk and wanting to chat. “Go back to sleep, baby.” Sam mumbled, clearly not caring about who was looking for him. You tried to do as he said, but another burst of loud knocking pried your eyes back open.

“Sam, open the fucking door!” You were upright now, immediately recognizing Danny’s voice. Sam groaned, reaching out for his phone.

“It’s 4 in the morning, man, go to bed! We can talk tomorrow!” He shot back.

“I know she’s in there, Sam. I just want to talk to her.” Danny pleaded. You could tell he was plastered. You could hear it in his voice. Your heart was racing, panic encased on your features. Sam gave a look to you as if to say it was okay. He rolled out of bed, pulling on a pair of pants as you searched wildly for clothes for yourself. You threw on the clothes Sam had given you earlier, crawling back in the bed and hoping that Sam could convince Danny to go back to his room. Sam wanted that, too, hoping you would just talk to him in the morning, when you were both sober and in the right state of mind.

Sam shuffled to the door. You heard him open it a crack before speaking again. “Just go to bed, Danny. You’re hammered.” Sam sighed, trying to reason with him.

“You’ve both been avoiding me for months and lying to my face the whole time. I’m done. I’m sick of waiting for you to decide to tell me the truth.” Danny snapped. Your stomach twisted in a knot, palms breaking out into a sweat. He knew. He’s known all along.

“Hey, stop, man. It’s okay. We can talk in the morning.” Sam muttered, obviously still half asleep. You didn’t understand how he was so calm about the whole thing. Sam made a move to try and shut the door, but Danny pushed it open again, not done with the conversation.

“Just let me talk to her, please.” Danny said again. “I know she’s in there. I saw her car outside.” Danny was pushing back on the door as Sam tried to hold it closed. “You can’t keep my best friend from me.” Something in Sam snapped at his territorial marking, not liking it in the slightest.

“Okay, fine, in the morning!” Sam was losing his patience. “I’m not letting you talk to her while you’re drunk and pissed off.” Sam was being overly protective, not willing to budge from him stance.

“I’m not going to fucking hurt her, asshole.” Danny argued. “She’s my best friend, Sam. I have to talk to her.” With a final push, Danny got the door open and stepped in the room. Sam sighed, stepping down and out of his way. Danny walked in, his eyes immediately landing on you. He stared for a moment, watching you sitting in Sam’s bed, wearing his clothes, looking scared. He felt a wave of hurt enveloping him. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, unsure of what to say. He’d gotten his answer already. He already knew what he would find, but he was hoping he was wrong.

“Danny,” you started, but he’d already turned to walk back out. Your heart shattered, but you pushed it to the side. You were not the one that should be upset in the situation. You jumped out of the bed, following after him. Just as he was rounding the corner into the hallway, Sam grabbed your wrist to stop you from following. “Let go, Sam.” You warned.

“Y/n, just wait until the morning. We’ve waited this long, we can wait one more day.” He begged.

“That’s the problem! We never should have waited this long to begin with!” You cried, still trying to shake yourself from his grip. “We lied to him. I hurt him. I’m still hurting him!”

“This isn’t a good idea, you’re both upset-“

“We’re going to be upset either way! I need to make it right with him before it’s too late. He’s my whole world, Sam.” You pleaded with him. Sam’s eyes darkened at your statement, once again feeling that pain he’d felt walking into Danny’s apartment the year before.

“What about me, y/n? Am I not part of that world, too?” He said, hurt dripping off of his words.

“What? Of course you are Sam, what do you mean?” You scoffed.

“I mean exactly what I said. This is just like it was in the beginning. No matter how many times we fuck, or how many times you say you love me, he’ll always come first, right?” You opened your mouth to retaliate, but found no words coming out. “That’s what I thought.” Sam rolled his eyes. “You wanna go talk to him? Fine by me.” He dropped your wrist. “It doesn’t matter what I think, anyway.”

“You’re jealous now, of all of the times you could’ve been jealous? We did something to hurt him and you’re pissed off because I want to make it right?”

“No, I’m pissed off because it seems like I was right the whole time. You may not have been fucking him, y/n, but he will always be the most important person to you. He says jump and you’ll do it, no matter how high. No matter who’s begging you not to.”

“Sam you’re being ridiculous.” You scowled, feeling the months of hatred and vicious words coming back.

“It’s four in the morning, y/n. He shows up drunk and wakes us up, barges in here and doesn’t even say a word to you, and you’re chasing after him. Im asking you to stay. I am begging you to at least wait until the morning, when he’s not drunk and you’re in your right mind, but you refuse to see that maybe that’s the most logical thing because like I said a million times before, he comes first, before anyone else. It. Will. Always. Be. Him.” He annunciated his words so harshly that it caused your blood to boil.

You couldn’t believe that after everything you’d told Sam, every memory and sweet word over the last few months, everything that you’d professed to him that night alone, he could throw this out the window so easily. Tears welled in your eyes, begging to be shed. You loved Sam, but he always seemed to be the one to know exactly how to break your heart. You thought that he’d changed, that him being an asshole was just one big misunderstanding, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe Sam would never change, no matter how much you hoped he would. “I’m not fighting with you over this, Sam. Not again.” You said, completely defeated. “I could go into the next room and spit on him, even kick him in the face and you’d still try and argue that I’m in love with him. You didn’t believe me when I told you the million other times, and you never will. I’m done fighting.” Your voice broke.

“If you leave,” he paused, eyes angry but you could tell it was covering sadness. “If you run out there after him, I’m done, y/n. I can’t always feel like I’m in second place.”

“That’s your problem, Sam. You’re trying to beat him in a race, but you guys aren’t even competing in the same one.” You took a step towards the hallway. “Oh, and if you’re genuinely giving me an ultimatum, whatever this is, ends here. Because if you make me choose, I will never forgive you.” You said, back turned to him now. You couldn’t see it, but a tear fell down his cheek, too. He didn’t answer, just watched you teeter between the hallway and his hotel room, hoping you’d turn back towards him.

“You say that because you know you’d choose him.”

“If you make me stay, we’re done.” You whispered.

“I guess we’re in stalemate, then.” He replied. You closed your eyes, praying he’d say something else, that he would change his mind. Instead, you were met with silence. You looked back at him over your shoulder, wanting to see him one last time before you made up your mind. The sadness in his features implored you to stay, to hold him and tell him you only ever wanted to love him, but the anger towards him that was brewing in your chest was overwhelming. “Please, y/n, come back to bed with me.” He tried one last time. You checked to make sure you’d slipped your phone and your car keys in your pocket when you got up, relieved when you found that you did.

“I love you, Sammy.” You whispered. His eyes glistened with hope, thinking that maybe you were going to stay. As soon as he’d let himself feel it, it was quickly shattered. You had stepped into the hallway and slammed his door shut, not even waiting for him to say it back. He stood, staring at the doorway where you’d been standing just seconds before, not knowing where to go from there.

.

Don’t worry!! It doesn’t end here, there will be a part three! 🫶🏻

[miseryoforpheus]

intro post <3

Hey there!

Im Jamie and my pronouns are They/She/he

Im a neurospicy minor (but I will swear and also am fine being moots with/talking to adults as long as no one is a creep to me it’s all good)

Uhhh welcome to my online diary :|

Happy to make friends if u want - feel free to DM me

online diary blog w lots of Neil Gaiman reblogs bc he’s my idol

Fun facts about me:

Umm ok (trying to think of fun facts now)

Im Italian but grew up in England, would love some more Italian moots <3

my favourite authors are Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett (but it’s been like that since before I read good omens lmao) also Rick Riordan and Alice Oseman

certified gravity falls child

if u couldn’t tell by the URL I’m obsessed with Greek and Roman mythology

nostalgic for a time I wasn’t even alive - late 80s and early 90s mainly but also like 70s

nostalgic for a time I WAS alive (barely but it still counts bc I do remember it) - the late 2000s

I did a quiz to see what Beatles band member I’d be and got Paul Mcartney

damn u rlly don’t realise how boring u r till u try and do an about me huh

Music I like:

Hozier, Olivia Rodrigo, Conan Gray, Harry Styles, YUNGBLUD, Beatles, Elton John, Queen, Renée Rapp, TV girl, bears in trees, Ricky Montgomery, NOAHFINNCE, MARINA, Fleetwood Mac

getting into:

Nirvana [used to love them a few years ago but then a mean girl made fun of me for it so I stopped listening to them but I’m starting again]

Dominic Fike Paramore

mother mother

MCR

the neighbourhood

The tags I will use:

Jamie answers asks - u guessed it this is for answering any asks

the most boring soap opera - my life stuff because my life is the most boring soap opera

MOTD - mood of the day which is just a lil thing I do

for the record:

I stand with Palestine 🇵🇸

please click here every day:

also free Ukraine 🇺🇦

aro and ace people are LGBTQ+ and this is an aro and ace and aroace safe blog

in general this is a COMPLETELY safe space

if u want anyone to talk to btw I’m always here to chat, can’t guarantee i’ll be able to help but I am always willing to listen literally any time we don’t even have to be moots or anything just DM me ok? Ily all take care of yourselves ok loves? <3

Also one last thing just for ppl that know me, I have no problem with u following this blog or anything but be warned that I’m not gonna filter my opinion at all on here bc I need a place to be myself and if u don’t want to see that i understand and idm just pls don’t take it as a personal attack or anything if u ever think something I post relates to you, I promise it’s not I just need to vent <3

My MOTD ratings:

0-2 > feeling really really really shitty

3-4 > shitty like I have too much sadness and anger and everything inside me and it feels horrible and yeah yk [reckless behaviour is strong here for me + pretty strong intrusive thoughts]

5 > normal. Numb. Yucky. Normal level of intrusive thoughts [for me at least, everyone is different]

6-7 > smol happy, probably was a bad day that got better

7-8 > :D

9-10 > fucking ecstatic

[atinycafe]

APOCALYPTIC AMOUR — ch 01 [trackstar]

prompt; a tight-knit friend group's carefree days turn into a fight for survival as they navigate a zombie apocalypse ( ˘ ³˘)ﾉ☆ feat; ot8!ateez x fem!reader in this chapter; you meet new student yunho and present him to your friend group, you all have fun until— wrd count; 12.7k notes; all the characters in this story are 18+, the beginning is slightly inspired by the super talented @ohmyamor, this post in particular!!, mullet yunho 4 the win, idk if you noticed yet but i love it when a girl has braids in her hair and she adds those small jewels in them, i feel like i describe all my leads w/ that hairstyle im cryin, it's gonna be normal for the majority part of this chapter, so no crazy gore/horror yet (I JUST FINISHED WRITING I LIED THERE IS GORE AND I'M SCARED!!!), yall this was acc supposed to be a yandere story till i switched it up when jongho pulled up bcuz i felt like it, lssrfm & xikers cameo cuz i love them sm taglist; @eightmakesonebraincell (glad u like it bb!!), lmk if you want 2 b added 2!

"In a matter of moments, she'll be joining us. She's a sweet girl you'll get along well," whispers the director in a gentle tone, leaning forward across his mahogany desk, which acts as a partition between them. Yunho musters a forced smile, his slender fingers fidgeting with the rings adorning them. Irritation simmers within him. He endured an uncomfortable fifteen minutes on the rigid bergère chair, obligated to listen to the school director's grating voice against his wishes. The prospect of meeting a girl holds no interest for him; he is determined to navigate the school's corridors alone.

Just as he prepares to rise from his seat, tired of the interminable wait, a figure bursts into the room with a flourish. Before him stands a panting young girl, her hands clutching her knees, desperately gasping for air as though she has just conquered the most arduous marathon known to mankind.

"I'm... I'm here, lemme just—" she stammers, her voice catching as she raises a trembling hand, a solitary finger indicating her need for a brief respite, "the bus... late... San stole my... backpack... fuck I'm gonna pass out."

"Ah, such language," grumbles the elder man as he rises from his chair. Casting a renewed smile towards Yunho, he gently pats his perspiring forehead with a blush-colored tissue. Stepping over to the girl, who remains slumped in the corner, he addresses the other boy still sitting in shock, "Yunho, this is the student who will accompany you today. I won't detain you any longer. You may proceed." With a gesture towards the door, he guides the girl outside while she continues to lament her apologies to the older man, vehemently blaming a certain individual named "San" for the predicament.

Outside, she turns towards him, and Yunho seizes the opportunity to cast his gaze upon her, carefully observing her appearance. She's undeniably beautiful. The delicate braids in her hair, adorned with glistening jewels, captivate his attention, while her plump cheeks radiate with a gentle glow, evidence of the perspiration amassed during her hurried arrival. Yunho has always had a fondness for aesthetically pleasing things.

Suddenly, she breaks his trance, bowing earnestly before him. "I'm so so so sorry, I didn't mean to be late, I swear I tried to be on time, I'm usually never late. I got jumped by an oversized child annnnd I'm rambling." A flush of embarrassment creeps across her face as the realization dawns upon her, and she playfully scratches her head, feeling a sense of diminishment under the unwavering gaze of the tall young man standing before her.

Yunho's smile widens at the sight. She's cute. Extending his hand towards her, she eagerly intertwines her fingers with his. A rush of joy courses through him as he marvels at the stark contrast in size—his larger hand effortlessly enveloping hers, causing it to vanish within his grasp. He savors the velvety softness of her palm, relishing in the comforting warmth it radiates. His elongated fingers tenderly caress her wrist, their gentle movements akin to a graceful dance.

She reciprocates the gesture, shaking his hand before sheepishly wiping her own on her skirt. "Sorry, my palm is a bit sweaty," she admits, her voice tinged with a hint of bashfulness.

"Knees weak, arms are heavy," he absentmindedly continues, lost in his thoughts.

"Oh! There's vomit on his sweater already," she chimes in, recognizing the lyrics.

"Mom's spaghetti," they say in unison, both bursting into fits of giggles at the absurdity of the words.

"Anyway, I'm yn. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she says, her gaze meeting his once more. Yunho finds himself captivated by her eyes. They possess a playful sparkle, akin to the innocent exuberance he often sees in the younger generation. It's as if the weight of the adult world has yet to fully cast its shadow upon her, preserving a childlike wonder within her gaze.

"Yunho," he nods in response, his lustrous black bangs delicately framing his forehead, swaying gently as if in sync with his every movement, catching the radiance of the hallway lights and emanating a subtle glow.

"I know," she giggles, delicately covering her mouth with her hand as they begin to walk. "Well, since I've arrived late, classes have already started, which means we'll have the hallways all to ourselves," she proclaims with a mischievous air, a smugness in her tone. She playfully winks at him, and he joins in her laughter, reveling in the shared moment of camaraderie.

Continuing their stride, the sound of their sneakers occasionally creating a gentle squeak against the polished floor, she takes the lead, pointing out various corridors and imparting valuable knowledge to him. Her animated gestures and explanations paint a vivid picture of everything he needs to know.

Yunho would be dishonest if he claimed to retain any of the information shared by the student by his side. His attention is wholly captured by the gentle cadence of her voice, laced with an endearing accent, and the subtle grace with which she occasionally bites her tongue in contemplation. Oblivious to the details she imparts, he merely nods his head in response.

Instead, Yunho's eyes roam across the curve of her nose and the delicate flutter of her long eyelashes. His gaze then lingers on the slightly askew tie loosely draped around her neck and the oversized sweater that envelops her figure. A desire surges within him, longing to embrace her smaller frame within the warmth of his own arms, never to release her. An internal groan escapes him, a perplexing discomfort arising from the strange yearning he discovers within himself.

As they stand before the window, a stray curl cascades across her face, obscuring her vision. Yunho's instinctual response is to reach out and brush it away, but his action is abruptly halted as someone grabs his hand forcefully. He turns his attention towards the source, locking eyes with a shorter boy exuding a piercing intensity. Tension grips both their wrists, causing veins to bulge beneath their sleeves, marking the strain in their arms. Unfazed, Yunho arches an eyebrow in response, calmly meeting the gaze of the boy with a distinctive mole adorning his cheek. In that silent exchange, a challenge hangs in the air.

Their unspoken confrontation is momentarily interrupted as the girl finally shifts her focus from the window, her attention drawn to the unexpected arrival that has joined their company.

"Oh, hey Wooyo! What are you doing here? Yunho, this is Wooyoung." she beams at the boy, completely oblivious to the lingering tension in the air. As her gaze meets his, the previously intense look in Wooyoung's eyes undergoes a transformation, melting into a tender, lovesick expression as he sets his sights upon her. With a gentle gesture, he wraps an arm around her shoulder, leaning into her touch, their bodies fitting together snugly. A slight hunch forms in his posture as he revels in her presence.

"Missed my girlfriend, had to see you," he smiles, his gaze lingering on Yunho, a keen observer of the tension that grips the boy before him. With his hand still wrapped around her, he playfully toys with a braid, gently twirling it between his fingers. In that moment, a wave of warmth washes over Yunho, but it's not the pleasant kind. It's the kind that tightens his throat and makes the mullet he currently sports feel uncomfortably scratchy against the back of his neck.

With a sudden burst of force, the girl forcefully pushes Wooyoung away from her, her face flushed with deep embarrassment. "Stop saying that to everyone I introduce you to! You're so embarrassing, you fucking liar," she scolds, playfully landing a punch on his shoulder. The boy, unfazed by the punch, erupts into a contagious fit of high-pitched laughter, filling the once-empty hallway with joyous echoes. He seizes her wrists, swiftly maneuvering behind her, enveloping her in a warm back hug while still clasping her fists in his hands. Turning her gaze towards the taller boy, she apologizes for the unexpected spectacle that just unfolded before them.

An inexplicable tightness constricts Yunho's chest, leaving him struggling to catch his breath. He can't fathom why this feeling has taken hold of him. He understands that the two individuals before him are not romantically involved, as evident from the girl's earlier remark. However, the overt display of affection between them unsettles him, stirring a discomfort within his core. They exude an undeniable ease with one another, causing his stomach to knot with unease. Wooyoung seems to know exactly what's happening in the boy's mind because when the latter meets his eyes once again, he smirks.

Yunho finds himself irritated, yet he manages to maintain a polite smile nonetheless.

"Wait," she interrupts their embrace, her hand clapping in the air as she fixes her gaze on the student who had been hugging her. Suspicion colors her expression, and she hesitates before voicing her question, "what are you doing here, I know you have class right now."

Wooyoung locks eyes with her for a moment, a mischievous glint shining in his gaze, before swiftly planting a playful peck on her cheek. Without missing a beat, he dashes down the hall, his voice echoing through the corridors as he calls out, "Love you, president!" His laughter gradually fades into the distance as he disappears from their sight.

The girl lets out a groan, using her sleeve to wipe her cheek clean. It's in this moment that Yunho's attention is drawn to the blue marine armband adorning her right arm, proudly displaying the words "Class President." He notices the adorable Sanrio stickers adorning the Korean syllables, adding a touch of charm to the armband.

"Let me tell you, this guy," she exclaims, frustration evident in her voice, "he never attends his morning classes. Detention just isn't cutting it anymore. I should put him in jail." Finally turning her attention to Yunho, she offers an apologetic smile. Pointing towards a classroom ahead, she stretches her arms overhead. "That's your next period class. Just go on in, and the teacher will assign you a seat."

Yunho offers a gentle nod in response, prompting a genuine smile to spread across the girl's face. Initially intimidated by the boy's towering height and quiet demeanor when they first met, she now finds his mannerisms oddly reminiscent of a puppy, endearing her to him. His big, expressive eyes only add to the charm that she discovers within him.

A warm invitation escapes her lips, laced with empathy and understanding. "Do you wanna eat with me and my friends during lunch this afternoon? I know it can be challenging to make friends when you're new in the middle of the year." Her eyes crinkle with a gentle warmth, captivating Yunho's heart as he feels himself melt in response. Internally, he can't contain his excitement, overwhelmed by how incredibly adorable she is. He's practically screaming with joy inside.

"Actually, I already know someone here in the school that I need to find. It's 'ight," he replies, a playful grin adorning his face as he resists the temptation to pat her head. While a part of him feels a tinge of sadness for missing the chance to spend more time with her, he also realizes that if her friends are similar to the one he just met, it might not be the best fit for him. It's not about feeling intimidated or anything of the sort, but rather a desire to ensure that he presents himself in a way he won't regret to the girl standing before him.

"Oh really? Who? Maybe I can help," she offers, crossing her arms behind her back and tilting her head slightly to meet his gaze that had been concealed by his hair. Yunho responds with a gentle smile, his hand instinctively reaching up to brush his bangs aside, revealing his warm brown eyes. He finds joy in the way her smile widens upon catching a clearer glimpse of his eyes, their connection growing stronger.

"Song Mingi, but I don't think you know him, he's quite shy—" Yunho begins to explain, but his words are cut short by a surprised scream escaping the girl's lips. Acting swiftly, she retrieves her phone and taps the screen, revealing something to Yunho. She turns the phone towards him, displaying her wallpaper for him to see.

Displayed on the screen, amidst the small widgets and iMessages, Yunho's eyes meet a captivating image. It captures his childhood friend, Mingi, in a deep slumber, his cropped blond hair filled with an array of adorable pastel hairclips. Playful marker drawings of cat whiskers adorn his peaceful face. Standing in front of him is the owner of the phone, her face partially blurred but her radiant smile shining through. It's as if he can almost hear her infectious laughter echoing from within the screen.

"Uh yeah that's him," Yunho responds, his voice tinged with surprise. He hadn't anticipated her knowing Mingi. The girl nods affirmatively, her smile unwavering, and Yunho can't help but wonder if she ever gets cheek cramps from smiling so much. She moves behind him, placing her hands flat against his back, gently pushing him towards the classroom door. "Great! I'll come find you once your class is over, and we can go eat together," she declares from behind him.

As Yunho settles into his class, he can still feel the lingering warmth of her palms against his back. Throughout the entire lesson, the sensation remains, serving as a comforting reminder of the upcoming lunchtime rendezvous.

"Jongho I'm telling you, the moment I find San, I'm breaking his knee caps, I didn't even know what to tell Mr. Byun when he asked me where my things were." Yunho quietly opens the sliding door, intending to leave the classroom, when he catches snippets of the conversation. The familiar voice belongs to the girl who has been on his mind throughout the entire period. Yunho can sense her annoyance as she leans against the wall, one foot pressed against it for support, arms crossed over her chest, and a visible pout on her face. Beside her, Jongho doubles over in laughter, clutching his stomach in amusement.

"You think that's funny huh," the girl's growl is accompanied by a punch to Jongho's side, prompting him to playfully overreact, clutching the spot where she hit him as if it were truly painful. However, their playful exchange is interrupted by Yunho, who clears his throat to gain their attention. As they turn towards him, their expressions shift in response. The girl's smile remains warm and welcoming, while Jongho's smile fades into a more neutral, passive expression.

"Yunho! Let's go find Mangi," she exclaims excitedly, pulling Jongho along with her and intertwining her arms with both boys, one on each side. Yunho can't help but feel a sense of familiarity as she uses the nickname he had coined for Mingi years ago. Normally, he would feel uncomfortable when strangers used his private lingo with his friends, but strangely, he doesn't mind it this time. "Oh, by the way, this is Jongho," she introduces the boy next to her, gesturing towards him, "and this is Yunho," she adds, indicating the tall boy at her side.

"Wait, he knows Mingi?" Jongho asks, his confusion evident on his face. She simply nods in response, popping a lollipop into her mouth with a mischievous smile.

"You still haven't told me how you guys got to know each other," she inquires, peering at the paper of the candy wrapper, searching for the usual joke written there.While waiting for Yunho to answer her question, Jongho reaches over and grabs the candy wrapper, turning it around to show her the joke, pointing at it. She lets out a soft exhale through her nose, the joke genuinely amusing.

Yunho rubs the back of his neck, his fingers gently grazing through his hair. He feels a sense of relief that her focus is directed elsewhere. Her captivating eyes, so large and mesmerizing, have a way of stealing his breath whenever they lock gazes."It's nothing crazy, we were neighbours, and I kinda forced him to befriend me, like I'd walk him to school and eat with him during lunch even though we attended different schools."

"Wait that's adorable oh my God, he never told me that, did he mention that?" She turns to Jongho, her eyes widening with an expression of curiosity and delight and the latter feels his heart skip a beat, as if doing a somersault in his chest.

"N-no yeah, he mentioned something about a childhood friend pullin up," he stammers, inwardly cursing his sudden bout of nervousness.

"He told you and he didn't tell me, what the—" she starts to say, but her words are cut short by a loud scream echoing through the bustling hallways.

"Pres'! You comin' to practice today?" a boy dressed in a letterman jacket calls out, his voice carrying over the noise. He is joined by a group of similarly attired boys, some of them casually tossing around a football in a cliché manner.

"Yup! Wasn't planning on it, but I have to beat San's ass," she shouts back, not even bothering to turn towards the group of boys. Jongho understands the underlying tension behind her action. She wasn't particularly fond of building relationships with the members of the school's football team, except for the boys in their own friend group, of course. The sound of playful "ooohs" emerges from the group, earning an eye roll from her.

"You part of the football team?" Yunho asks, looking down at her and the boys she was conversing with. She locks eyes with him and bursts into laughter.

"No, not at all, ew, I would never. They're all gross," she says, turning to Jongho and pulling him closer, her hand gripping his bicep. "No offense, babe, but your friends are so annoying." He chuckles softly, too caught up in their proximity and the endearing nickname she always uses, oblivious to her playful jabs at his friends.

"I'm actually part of the cheer squad," she adds, and as the words leave her mouth, she notices Yunho's surprised expression. "Yeah, I know. I lost a bet against the umbrella twins, and they forced me to join."

"The umbrella twins?" he questions, seeking clarification.

"Oh, my bad. San and Wooyoung, the guy who stole my backpack and the one you met this morning," she clarifies, gesturing with her hands as she speaks, a habit that Yunho finds endearing.

Before she can continue, they are once again interrupted by another group of people approaching her. "Pres! The basketball team is going to take the 4th local today, but we already reserved it!" they announce eagerly. She leans back, taken aback by the sudden noise and movement, and Jongho instinctively moves slightly in front of her, as if to protect her.

"I'm not the only president here. Can't you go talk to Hongjoong? There are two of us for a reason," she whines, taking the hands of the girl in front of her and waving them dramatically.

"Eonnie, please, we've been searching everywhere and we can't find him," another girl pouts at her, holding her hands together in a pleading manner. However, her plea is cut short as the girl accidentally hits herself on the head with her tennis racket. The president instinctively brings her own hand to soothe the reddened spot on the younger girl's forehead.

"Alright, alright, I'll talk to Mingi and Seonghwa and see what I can do," she assures them, and the small tennis committee beams with gratitude before taking their leave.

"Fucker must be on the roof. I'll beat him up, always leaves all the work to me," she grumbles, resting her head on Jongho's shoulder.

"Mingi's in the basketball team?" she nods in response, Yunho's mind drifting off as if lost in memories. Before she can inquire further about Mingi, her attention is once again interrupted.

"Hey," a soft voice calls out from behind her.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, I just want to eat," she mutters under her breath, but when she turn around, she's greeted by Yeosang's face.

"Oh, hey babe," she says, wrapping her arms around Yeosang's frame, just below his own letterman jacket. He pats her head affectionately, and she continues walking, Yeosang taking Jongho's place by her side, his arm draped over her shoulder. "Oh, this is Yunho, Mingi's childhood friend. Yunho, meet Yeosang. Jjong and Yeo are our star quarterbacks; they practically carry the team," she laughs, introducing them to each other.

"Don't let Woo and San hear you say that, or they'll whine for days," Yeosang shudders in disgust, recalling the times when she mentioned things that made them believe she had a favorite among the eight boys. She laughs against him, and he finds himself enjoying the way her body shakes with amusement.

Yeosang then turns to Yunho, shaking his hand and nodding once as they make eye contact. "Welcome. Mingi mentioned that you were coming."

She gasps, clutching Yeosang's wrist in front of her and lightly digging her baby blue nails into his skin. "He told you too? Why didn't he tell me? I thought we told each other everything!"

Yeosang shrugs his shoulders, and with Jongho pushing open the doors of the cafeteria, the four of them enter and walk past the students scattered around. As they pass by, the students' eyes light up and they greet her with waves and friendly gestures. She reciprocates with a warm smile and waves of her own. It's evident that she is both well-known and well-liked among her peers.

She senses the tension emanating from the two quarterbacks beside her. Mistaking their annoyance at the attention she's getting for shyness, she reaches out and squeezes Yeosang's hand, feeling him squeeze back in response.

They finally reach the end of the cafeteria room, where the food counter is located. The options available for lunch consist of three combinations: penne pasta in a tomato-based marinara sauce with small meatballs, grilled chicken with a side of steamed vegetables, or a plant-based burger with a side of garlic bread. Each plate comes with a cupcake for dessert and a refreshing glass of lemonade to drink.

As they approach the food counter, Jongho reaches for the tray with the grilled chicken, only to have his hand swiftly slapped away by her. Her raised eyebrow and shocked expression silently convey her disapproval, and without uttering a word, she guides his hand towards the vegan tray instead. "But it has veggies!!, he whines and she glares at him. Jongho sighs and reluctantly grabs the vegan tray, rolling his eyes playfully as he moves behind them to let them choose their own plates.

Next in line is Yeosang, who reaches for the pasta option, but is met with another slap on his hand from her. Confused, he looks up at her, and she points to a lone meatball nestled on the side of the dish. Resigned, Yeosang lets out a sigh and reaches for the vegan tray, conceding defeat.

Yunho steps up to the trays, feeling her expectant gaze upon him. He turns to meet her big, doe-like eyes, and he finds himself unable to resist the unspoken request. Letting his hands guide him, he selects the vegan tray. A radiant smile spreads across her face as she slaps him on the back, the gesture strangely reminiscent of the way his dad had congratulated him when he made the decision to follow with basketball instead of baseball like his mother had wanted. Joining the two other boys, who had been observing the interaction with keen eyes, he settles in and waits for her to choose her food.

Jongho leans in, his voice a low whisper filled with a touch of disdain, "she's crazy about veganism don't mind her," he gazes with evident disgust at the trays before them, as if the mere sight of the vegan options is enough to make him cringe.

Yeosang nods in agreement, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, she picked up on it recently and now the whole gang's forced to change our diet, or she'll throw a tantrum," he says, casually stretching his neck as he watches the girl express gratitude to the food lady.

Their words are laced with a hint of amusement, as if they find her quirks endearing even in their exasperation.

As she joins them, she playfully points a finger at Yeosang, her voice tinged with amusement, "I don't throw tantrums, Wooyoung does, what I do is present well-reasoned arguments with tears, it's different," She then turns her attention to Jongho, her finger now accusingly pointed at him, "and I'm not crazy, just... passionate, you wouldn't get that huh, you depressed bitch."

Jongho responds by lightly slapping the back of her head, a playful reprimand for her teasing. They continue walking towards the other set of large doors in the cafeteria, with her pouting and following behind Yeosang, clutching onto his vest. She leans in close, whispering, "Yeo, Jjong is being mean to me." Yeosang lets out a resigned sigh, his gaze shifting towards Yunho, as if seeking support or solace in the presence of their new acquaintance.

"See what I have to deal with everyday."

The group of students passes through the doors, and Yunho's eyes widen in awe at the breathtaking sight that greets him. Before him lies a greenhouse, its walls concealed by lush, trailing vines and an abundance of vibrant plants. Despite the dense foliage, sunlight streams in from the glass roof, casting a gentle glow on the surroundings. Overhead, plants intertwine, creating a canopy of greenery that adds to the enchanting atmosphere. His gaze sweeps across the scene, taking in the sight of small fruit-bearing trees, their branches heavy with oranges and apples. A thriving vegetable garden flourishes nearby, brimming with fresh produce. Colorful flowers adorn every inch of the ground, creating a vibrant tapestry of blossoms, while a stone pathway guides his way towards a table occupied by familiar faces, alongside two new individuals. One, with a similar armband to the president he had met earlier, must be Hongjoong, leaving the other as either San or Seonghwa, as she had mentioned. His observations come to a halt as she steps into his field of view, her radiant smile and plump cheeks capturing his attention. "You comin?" she asks, extending her hand towards him.

With a slight hesitation, Yunho takes her outstretched hand, feeling a warmth spread through him as their fingers intertwine. Blush obvious on his pale skin, she doesn't mention it. She leads him towards the table, her touch gentle yet firm. As they approach, she introduces him to the two individuals seated there, confirming the identities of Hongjoong and Seonghwa. The atmosphere is welcoming, and Yunho finds himself drawn into the friendly banter and easy camaraderie of the group. He takes a seat among them, feeling a sense of belonging settling over him.

He notices how Seonghwa pulls her on his lap, his affectionate gesture catches Yunho's attention, and he can't help but feel a twinge of unease. He scratches his head, uncertain of how to react in this unfamiliar situation. As he tentatively picks at his peculiarly greenish patty with his fingertip. Oh, the lengths Yunho would go to impress a girl he hardly knows. A random girl who's most likely already dating someone from her fucking harem, he can't help but think.

With a sigh, Yunho brings the small burger to his lips, the size of it seeming insignificant in his large hands. He takes a bite, trying to mask his distaste as the dry bread and peculiar flavors assault his taste buds. He swallows it with difficulty, suppressing any visible signs of disgust. Seeking respite, he lifts the cup of lemonade to his lips, closing his eyes momentarily as he takes a sip, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat.

Meanwhile, he listens to her animated conversation with Hongjoong, her voice filled with complaints and the unfinished thoughts from earlier. And then, her attention turns to Seonghwa, her gaze fixed on him as she leans her chin against her own shoulder.

"Wait, where's Mingi?"

"He's talking to Mr. Zhang, apparently he got caught cheating for his dissertation, he might get a zero on it," Seonghwa murmurs, his voice muffled by the unsatisfying burger. He had initially wanted to go for the chicken option, but Hongjoong had reminded him of her preferences, and he reluctantly settled for the vegan tray. The food lady had given him a knowing look, as if aware of the compromise he had made.

"Pfft, I told him Mr. Zhang uses that crazy software, nothing gets past it," she comments with a mouthful of her own burger, her disappointment evident on her face. She quickly discards the burger onto her plate, exclaiming, "this tastes like shit oh my God."

The sudden attention of everyone at the table is drawn to her, and she looks around innocently, uttering a simple "what?" in response. One by one, they all join her in discarding their own meals onto their respective plates, emitting sighs of disappointment.

"Fuck thank you, I've been wanting to say that, is your phase over yet?" Hongjoong rubs his temples in exasperation, but his action is met with a swift kick to his thigh. Startled, he turns his attention to her, grabbing hold of her foot adorned with Doc Martens, playfully pulling her towards him. In response, she lets out a dramatic scream, clutching onto Seonghwa's shoulder tightly to prevent Hongjoong from separating them.

"It's not a phase," she emphasizes each word with a swift kick to his leg, her frustration evident. "And quit tugging at my leg like the beast you are, I'm a fucking lady!" Her voice carries a mix of exasperation and playfulness as she lets out a spirited scream. Bending over Seonghwa's forearm, with him securely holding her waist, she extends her arm to deliver punches to Hongjoong's shoulder.

"You, a lady?" Yeosang snorts from his seat, unable to contain his amusement.

"You shut the fuck up before I tell coach about how you used to bring girls to the locker room to do God knows what," she retorts, giving him a pointed look that leaves him momentarily speechless, causing him to choke on his lemonade.

"That was such a long time ago, what the fuck, I don't do that anymore," he responds, his voice laced with a mixture of embarrassment and denial. He closes his eyes tightly, shaking his head to dispel the unwanted memories. A shudder runs through his body as he recalls those past actions, prompting Jongho to burst into uncontrollable laughter, nearly toppling off his seat.

She clacks her middle finger and thumb together absentmindedly, her gaze lost in thought.

"Wait, I needed to say something to Seonghwa, but what was it again?" she mutters, her voice trailing off. At the mention of his name, Seonghwa perks up, humming curiously from behind her.

"The 4th local," Yunho's voice silently resonates in the greenhouse, and she instinctively moves her hand from the air to point at him, her mouth agape in realization.

"Yes!" she exclaims, her face lighting up, and Yunho grins in response. "Seonghwa, you guys— the basketball team, can't go to the 4th local today. The tennis girls are using it."

"What why!?" Seonghwa's grip tightens around her waist, his biceps visibly flexing under the uniform vest.

"Okay first, unhand me, you're literally gonna break my rib cage," she tugs at the sleeves of his grey uniform, urging him to release his hold. As he lets go, she takes the opportunity to position herself with one knee against the table, leaning forward to snatch the cupcake that was within Jongho's reach. His eyes snap towards her, and she playfully sticks out her tongue before taking a bite of the blueberry-flavored dessert. Seonghwa looks away, her buttocks right in front of his face, not wanting to invade her privacy or risk getting into trouble with the other boys at the table.

"Second," she begins, her mouth still full as she plops back down unceremoniously on his sturdy thighs, "they reserved it first."

"Damn it," he groans, resting his forehead against the back of her head, his eyes closing in frustration, "I'm gonna kill Chaerin, she didn't send the reservation mail on purpose."

"That's not a nice way to talk about your girlfriend," she mumbles, licking her fingers clean.

Yunho's head snaps towards them, unable to resist overhearing their conversation. He feels a pang of relief at the mention of Seonghwa having a girlfriend. As long as it's not her, he thinks to himself, and right after he finds himself internally chastising his own irrational reaction to a girl he had just met. His lips burn with the urge to ask the question, "Okay, so he has a girlfriend, but why are you sitting on his lap like that?" However, he manages to stop himself just in time, realizing that it might be prying into personal matters that he shouldn't delve into.

"He has a girlfriend? But you…" Yunho starts to speak but cuts himself off, not wanting to make things awkward if she was actually involved with Seonghwa in some way. However, the people at the table seem to grasp the unspoken words.

"Ugh, no, he's like my brother," she clarifies, rolling her eyes. "Everyone knows I don't date, especially not one of these," she playfully flips her hair behind her back, gesturing towards the boys surrounding her. As she does, her hair inadvertently slaps Seonghwa in the face, causing him to roll his eyes and playfully tug on one of her curls in response.

"They broke up," Jongho snatches back the muffin from her hand, glaring at her and baring his strong shoulders in an intimidating form when she opens her mouth to complain, "bitch— get your own cupcake, the fuck? Yeah, anyway he broke up with her like two days ago."

"Mine's carrot, I don't like it," she states, crossing her arms in a defiant gesture. The boys at the table can't resist but swoon at her adorable demeanor. Catching on to her playful manipulation, they each surrender their desserts to her with a smile. As she picks up Yeosang's lemon cake and prepares to take a bite, her motion halts abruptly, "wait, what did you say?"

Her eyes widen in surprise as she abruptly stands up, quickly moving behind Hongjoong for support. Clutching onto his matching sweater, she leans in closer to him, her voice filled with urgency. "Why did you break up?" she exclaims, her words carrying a mix of shock and concern.

"She was clingy," he replies casually, still engrossed in his phone. However, his sentence is abruptly cut short as a carrot cupcake smacks him right in the face. His eyes widen in surprise and he quickly looks up, his expression a mix of confusion and irritation. "What the fuc—" he begins to say, interrupted by the unexpected dessert attack.

"I told you not to speak about girls like that. She's gonna be the sixth this year, and it's only been five months since the year started! Seonghwa!!" she exclaims, her voice filled with a mix of frustration and disappointment. She continues to pout and whine his name as he returns his attention to his phone, casually wiping the cupcake off his cheek. "What if a boy treated me like you treat your girlfriends?" she questions, emphasizing her point and highlighting the double standard.

"I'd kill him," he responds in a matter-of-fact tone, causing her to let out a frustrated sigh. She tugs at the roots of her hair in defeat, realizing that her point might not be getting across as she had hoped.

"See how that makes no sense? Treat girls how you'd want me to be treated, you dick!" she retorts, her voice filled with frustration. Taking a big bite of the lemon cupcake in her hand, she chews on it aggressively, using the act as a way to channel her annoyance.

"I'd treat girls how I treat you when they start acting like you," he finally turns to look at her, his gaze piercing through her. The girl feels her face heat up under his intense stare and quickly averts her eyes, searching for a way to escape the awkwardness. Her gaze falls upon the other boys at the table, who seem to be observing the interaction with curiosity. Sensing the need to change the subject, she mutters something about meeting Seonghwa at the basketball court next to the football field, mentioning that it's empty for the day.

She swiftly moves past the boys, grabbing Yunho by the arm and leading him towards the door. However, she suddenly comes to a halt and quickly turns back towards the table. She snatches Seonghwa's cherry cupcake from his plate, adding it to her collection. Then, she returns to Yunho, taking hold of his hands once again, as if maneuvering him like a marionette.

"What are we doing here? I thought we were gonna go to the sport fields?" Yunho inquires, his voice trailing behind the girl who guides him through the familiar greenhouse they had explored during lunchtime.

"Yes, yes we are, I just don't wanna walk the whole way, I'm lazy, and— we're like an hour late," she reassures him, her voice laced with a mischievous tone. She gracefully maneuvers past the table where they had shared their meal, her eyes scanning the surroundings. "Ah, there it is! See that tree? There's a hidden door behind it. It's our secret passage to the boys' side."

Yunho raises an eyebrow, a mix of confusion and curiosity on his face. "A hidden door? Behind a tree? Shut up, are we in Narnia?"

She grins mischievously and continues walking, guiding him through the vibrant greenery of the greenhouse. As they reach a large tree with sprawling branches, she stops and points to a concealed door nestled among the leaves. It blends so seamlessly with its surroundings that it's almost camouflaged.

"Here it is," she announces triumphantly, pushing the door open to reveal a pathway that leads to the sports fields beyond. The sound of cheering and the thud of balls hitting the ground can be faintly heard in the distance. Yunho's eyes widen in amazement.

They step through, and his eyes widen at the sight before them—a vast open clearing adorned with two distinct fields. One is a sprawling green expanse, meticulously groomed for American football, while the other is a smaller basketball court with a solid concrete floor. The fields are flanked by a few bleachers and benches, providing a place for spectators to cheer on the athletes.

The scenery captivates his attention. The expansive football field stretches out seemingly endlessly, the vibrant green grass contrasting against the surrounding treeline. Beyond the trees, majestic mountains rise, their grandeur and magnitude evoking a sense of awe. The athletes moving across the field appear tiny in comparison, dwarfed by the immense natural beauty surrounding them.

A light mist hovers in the air, lending an ethereal atmosphere to the scene. Though the chill of the condensation graces their cheeks, they find themselves enveloped in a sense of tranquility and wonder. It's as if time stands still in this secluded sanctuary, offering a serene escape from the bustling world beyond.

As Yunho scans the surroundings, he notices the presence of three distinct cliques, each engaged in their own activities.

His gaze first lands on a group of eleven boys, adorned in sport attire, diligently following the commands of an older man who stands at the center. The sound of his booming voice fills the air as he passionately directs the boys through their paces, making them run laps between two white lines meticulously sprayed on the grass.

Shifting his attention to the basketball field, Yunho observes six boys divided into two teams of three, engaged in an intense match. The rhythmic sound of dribbling echoes as they skillfully maneuver the ball, their swift movements and strategic plays showcasing their love for the game.

Lastly, his gaze settles upon a group of girls, some dressed in crop tops and short shorts while others are dressed in a tracksuit, gathered near the benches in front of the football team and the bleachers. They engage in stretching exercises, their bodies gracefully extending and flexing as they prepare for their own athletic endeavors.

As Yunho's gaze sweeps across the scene, he notices a small figure seated in the center of the bleachers, engrossed in his artistic pursuit. The person's posture is slightly hunched over, their focus intense as they diligently sketch away with a pencil and sketchbook in hand. It doesn't take long for Yunho to recognize the familiar features of Hongjoong, the same individual who had been sitting with them earlier during lunch.

In that moment, the girl next to Yunho exclaims in a playful tone, her voice ringing through the air, "Hong! Are you going to draw me today, babe?" The sound of her voice draws his attention, causing Hongjoong to raise his head, a warm smile gracing his lips as he responds with a thumbs up. The girls seated in front of him catch wind of the interaction, and their faces light up with delight as their gazes shift to the source of the commotion, recognizing the girl who has captured Hongjoong's attention.

A chorus of excited voices erupts from the group of girls, a mix of "Eonnie!!" and her name flying out, as they jog up to the girl, their energy palpable. In their eagerness, they engulf her in a flurry of hugs, almost causing her to lose her balance if it weren't for Yunho's steadying grip on her back.

As the girls finally take notice of Yunho's presence, their attention shifts towards him. Among them, a mischievous smirk adorns the face of one girl, who playfully twirls a strand of her hair around her index finger. Her voice carries a hint of seduction as she mutters, "And who is that..." Her words trail off as she is promptly pushed away by another girl, who responds with an exasperated tone, "Ew, Kkura, gross! It's been barely a second since you met him, and you're already baring your teeth like some kind of animal."

"Don't be mad just because I caught his attention first, Chae," Sakura retorts, her words laced with playful banter.

"Eunchae, Garam, get behind me, I'll protect you from their hormones," the class president playfully interjects, guiding the two girls dressed in tracksuits to position themselves behind her. The trio bursts into laughter, enjoying the lighthearted moment, while the two older girls in front engage in a spirited verbal exchange.

Amidst the commotion, Yunjin leans closer to the president and whispers inquisitively, her gaze fixed on Yunho's tall frame, subtly checking him out. "But seriously, who is he?" she asks, her curiosity piqued.

"You have a boyfriend!" She exclaims in disbelief, her laughter echoing through the air. The girl raises her hand defensively, trying to fend off the playful accusation, "I'm asking for Kazuha!"

"Nu-uh, leave me out of it," the ballerina interjects with a yawn, her casual indifference contrasting with Yunjin's slightly annoyed expression. The younger girls find amusement in Yunjin's reaction, joining in with light giggles.

The girl dressed in her uniform takes notice of Yunho's discomfort, observing how his cheeks flush with embarrassment under the intense scrutiny of the two girls. She can't help but feel sorry for him. With a quick clap of her hands, she redirects their attention.

"All right girls, let him breathe," she intervenes, positioning herself between the boy and Sakura and Chaewon, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief. "Go practice choreo number 13, I'll come back down when you guys are done."

The girls disperse, enthusiastically responding with "Yes, Pres!" They scatter off in different directions, leaving the girl to shake her head fondly. Her eyes reflect adoration as she watches Eunchae take charge of the speaker and her phone, diligently searching for the song they'll be practicing to.

"Come on, big boy, let's go get Mingki," she playfully nudges Yunho in Hongjoong's direction. Meanwhile, she turns around and positions her fingers in her mouth, creating a loud whistle that immediately grabs the attention of all the players on the field, both from the football and basketball teams. However, her eyes are specifically fixed on Mingi's tall figure.

As they lock eyes, she waves at him, signalling for him to join them. Seonghwa, observing the interaction, lets out an exasperated sigh, clearly annoyed by the situation.

"I'll borrow him for a second you big baby, just practice 3-pointers," she playfully taunts the captain of the basketball team, her eyes rolling in mock annoyance. The awkwardness they had felt during lunch seems to have faded away completely as they exchange smiles, their connection reestablished.

"Jagi!" she hears someone shouting, and she turns to see San, his face beaming with a sheen of sweat.

"Don't even think about it, you—" she cuts herself off when she locks eyes with the coach, who stands with his arms crossed over his chest, sending a shiver down her spine. She grimaces at San, and he pouts sadly before seeking solace in Yeosang's embrace, burying his head in his neck for comfort.

Mingi finally reaches them, bounding up the stairs two steps at a time, and he leaps into Yunho's arms. The two boys burst into laughter, exchanging heartfelt "I miss yous" as they revel in the surreal moment of being face to face. Hongjoong and the girl watch with a tender gaze, their eyes filled with a mixture of affection and nostalgia. The girl settles herself between Hongjoong's legs, resting on the floor, seeking the comforting presence of his touch. The towering figures of the two boys evoke a surge of emotions within her, reminding her of the times she'd come back from her summer vacations, jumping into the boys' ams.

"Man, I still can't believe I'm here," Yunho sighs.

Mingi, still beaming with joy, settles down beside Hongjoong, his contagious smile lighting up his face and causing his eyes to crinkle.

"I know, right? It's hard to believe," Mingi replies, his voice filled with genuine astonishment.

Yunho, his own smile hidden behind his hand, adds, "You've really grown up, man. I can't believe you're on the basketball team now."

The girl can't contain her excitement and playfully shakes Hongjoong's legs, interrupting their tender moment.

"Aww, you two are so cute, I can't," she exclaims, her voice filled with delight, bringing a lighthearted energy to the conversation.

The girl and Hongjoong allow Yunho and Mingi to have their moment, engaging in their own conversation as she flips through his sketchbook—a privilege reserved only for her. After about ten minutes, she closes the notebook and turns her attention to Yunho, her curiosity evident in her eyes.

"Hey, Yunho, I've got a question. I understand why Mingi ended up in this small town—he moved here because of his dad's job at the water plant," she points towards the direction of the factory, barely visible through the trees, situated on one of the distant mountains. "But what about you? Why would someone from Seoul come to a rundown boarding school in the middle of nowhere?"

Yunho takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding.

"My step-dad... kinda forced me. It was either this or military schoo—"

"Baby!! Here's your backpack!!"

As Yunho begins to respond to the girl's question, their conversation is abruptly interrupted by San's excited scream. All heads turn towards the source of the noise, and the rest of the gang comes into view. San is leading the way, a wide smile on his face as he waves a sage green backpack—the girl's backpack. Wooyoung has his arm draped over San's shoulder, but his gaze is fixed on Yunho, his expression filled with confusion.

Meanwhile, Jongho is busy chugging a bottle of water, and in his haste, he ends up spitting some of it out, accidentally hitting Yeosang in the process. Yeosang looks at him with disgust before swiftly snatching the empty bottle from Jongho's hands and tossing it to the floor. Seonghwa, witnessing the commotion, pushes the back of Yeosang's head, causing him to stumble slightly. Yeosang turns to Seonghwa, clearly puzzled, and points at the discarded plastic bottle. Yeosang points back at Jongho, indicating that he should pick it up. The two engage in a silent argument, each trying to convey their point. Jongho has a shocked expression on his face, as if to say, "Why would I pick it up? You threw it on the floor!" The argument continues silently until Eunchae steps in, picking up the bottle and giving them an exasperated side-eye.

"San give me a hug baby," with a warm smile, the girl beckons San towards her, extending her arms in a welcoming gesture. San's face lights up, and he shoves Wooyoung aside, causing the older boy to let out a grunt. Excitedly, San practically leaps into the girl's waiting arms, anticipating a hug from his crush. However, instead of a gentle embrace, he finds her arms coiling around his neck, tightening and choking him from behind. The unexpected twist catches him off guard, eliciting laughter from the surrounding group.

With her forearm playfully pressed against San's Adam's apple and her hand positioned behind her other forearm, forming a unique frame next to his face, the girl maintains her mischievous hold on him. San playfully whines, his mock discomfort adding to the amusement of the others. In the midst of laughter, Mingi seizes the moment and quickly pulls out his phone, announcing, "Say cheese!" He points the camera towards San's face, prompting an instinctive reaction from the playful boy. San swiftly raises a peace sign next to his smiling face, revealing that his apparent weakness was merely a charade. The resulting snapshot captures a lighthearted moment, with both San and the girl flashing genuine smiles.

Taking advantage of the moment, she leans in close to San's ear, her voice hushed but firm. "San, I swear if you try another stunt like that, I'll personally make you regret it." Her warm breath tickles his ear, causing a shiver to run down his spine. She tightens her grip ever so slightly, emphasizing her point. San, feeling both intimidated and intrigued, responds with a quiet, almost squeaky, "Yes," acknowledging her warning.

As San is released from her grip, he swiftly turns around and pulls her into a tight embrace, leaning his body against hers. Meanwhile, Wooyoung's curious expression draws the attention of everyone around. He silently raises an eyebrow and directs his gaze toward Yunho, wearing a perplexed expression. It's clear that he's questioning Yunho's presence with his next comment, "what's he doin here?"

Mingi offers a brief explanation, trying to ease Wooyoung's annoyance. However, it doesn't seem to have the desired effect as Wooyoung remains visibly irritated. He sits down in silence, forcefully removing San's hands from the girl's body and placing her on his own lap, a clear display of his displeasure.

"Okay, no, Woo, you're too sweaty for skinship right now," she tries to get up, but he firmly pulls her back in, muttering a "shut up." She sighs in defeat, accepting her situation. She knows that Wooyoung can get anxious and quite possessive when new people try to join their close-knit circle, reminding her of his insecurities. Despite feeling the stickiness of his sweaty forearms on her thighs, she lets him be, knowing it provides him some sense of comfort and security.

As the rest of the group joins them, Hongjoong takes notice of the continued work of their respective teams. He adjusts his glasses with the hand still holding the pencil, a sign that he's about to ask a question.

"Why are you guys here?" he inquires, curiosity evident in his voice.

Seonghwa, not one to miss a chance for a sarcastic remark, quickly responds, "Um, fuck you? If you want us to leave, just say it directly." He lifts his head from the game app on his phone, expecting a round of laughter at his obvious joke. However, he's met with Hongjoong's tired gaze, and the room falls silent. Realizing the serious tone, Seonghwa pouts and adds, "Y'all suck at taking jokes. I'm the captain, I can take a break whenever I want." He glances back down at his phone, finally addressing Hongjoong's question.

"Coach gave us a break to relax, but he still needs to take care of the younger ones," Yeosang explains, his voice muffled slightly by the protein bar he's munching on.

Hongjoong nods in understanding. "I see. Well, enjoy your break while it lasts. Just make sure to be ready when practice resumes," he advises, his tone carrying a hint of authority.

Mingi playfully rolls his eyes. "You're not on either team, and yet you still act like you lead us or some shit," he snickers, his voice filled with playful mockery.

"I'm the president!" Hongjoong retorts with a hint of pride.

"Well, I don't see yn acting like that!" Mingi replies, and at the mention of her name, the girl stops playing with Wooyoung's fingers and lifts her head in confusion. "Huh?"

Before Mingi can persuade her to join in teasing Hongjoong, Yunjin calls out to her from under the bleachers. "We're done with the choreography! Pull up!"

The class president beams with excitement and tries to get up, but Wooyoung refuses to let her go. She slaps at his hands, but he still holds on tightly. Frustrated, she turns to him, silently mouthing "What the fuck," and he smirks mischievously, pointing at his cheek. She rolls her eyes and decides to retaliate by biting his jaw instead of kissing him. Wooyoung yelps in surprise, releasing his grip on her, and she takes the opportunity to get up, blowing him a flying kiss as she laughs mischievously while descending the stairs.

Arriving at the practice area, she begins to change her outfit. She pulls down her skirt, revealing black spandex sport shorts, and the girls around her playfully scream and tease her, drawing the attention of the boys on the bleachers. As she takes off her oversized sweater, leaving her in a casual black crop top, she hears whistles from the boys on the bleachers, with San and Wooyoung enthusiastically cheering and clapping for her. She laughs and playfully picks up her imaginary skirt, pretending to curtsy. The boys on the bleachers burst into laughter, but as she hears a comment about her "nice thighs!" from behind, she freezes. Before she can even turn around to confront the boy from the football team, Jongho intervenes and shouts some stern words, causing the boy to apologize nervously.

She responds to Jongho's protective gesture by making a heart sign towards him, and the young boy playfully reciprocates with a flying kiss. Her grin widens as she sits down, grabbing her bag and taking out her New Balance sneakers. She unties the laces of her current shoes and starts putting on the new ones, carefully securing them and making sure they fit perfectly.

Silence.

As she finishes tying the laces of her last shoe, a hushed stillness settles in the air, causing a chill to run down her spine. The once lively atmosphere now feels tense and unsettling. She scans her surroundings, searching for the source of the eerie silence that has fallen upon the area on her right. Not everyone seems to be affected, just the boys on the two fields, their playful exchanges and laughter replaced by an unnerving quietude. Some individuals exhibit twitching movements, prompting concerned inquiries from those unaffected, like the main coach who's shaking Minjae who's spasming lightly, confused because the younger boy seemed normal not even twenty seconds ago.

A strange sensation tugs at her senses, drawing her attention to a pair of eyes fixed upon her. Slowly, she turns her head, her heart racing with anticipation as she looks past the girls laughing. Her gaze locks with the intense stare of a mysterious figure positioned at the edge of the clearing. The stranger's presence feels heavy and unfamiliar, sending shivers down her spine. Squinting her eyes, she tries to discern the features of the distant figure, but the thickening mist obscures their identity. Despite the veil of mist, she observes the person's body twitching, yet they remain rooted in place, further adding to the sense of unease that permeates the air.

Suddenly, an explosion reverberates through the air, causing everyone's attention to snap towards the water factory. Their eyes widen in shock as they witness half of the building crumbling down, engulfed in a devastating blast. A mushroom-shaped cloud billows above the wreckage, casting a haunting shadow over the once familiar structure. The force of the explosion sends shockwaves through their bodies, leaving them frozen in disbelief at the unfolding chaos.

Amidst the chaos, her ears ring with a deafening sound, drowning out the surrounding screams and cries for help. The world around her blurs as her senses struggle to comprehend the magnitude of the situation. The ringing in her ears intensifies, becoming an overwhelming cacophony that threatens to drown out her thoughts. She clutches her head, trying to find a semblance of clarity amidst the disorienting noise, her heart pounding in her chest.

As the forceful gust of wind generated by the explosion engulfs them, she is sent tumbling to the ground, helpless against its powerful impact. Before panic can fully take hold, strong arms wrap around her, pulling her close. It's Yeosang, his presence a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos. As she looks around, she realizes that all the boys, her trusted friends, have taken cover, shielding her from the brunt of the blast. Their collective instinct to protect her shines through, their unwavering loyalty on full display in this moment of turmoil. A mixture of gratitude and concern floods her heart as she takes in the sight of them, noticing how even Yunho's tall frame is present.

Before a single cry or scream can escape their lips, a gurgling sound reverberates through the air, drawing their attention to the fields. With a collective sense of dread, they turn to face the source of the eerie noise, only to witness a sight that chills them to their very core. The bodies of their friends, once lively and full of vitality, now stand motionless, their movements reduced to sporadic twitches.

A deafening silence ensues, broken only by the sudden retching of the boys. A horrifying spectacle unfolds before their eyes as a crimson liquid violently spews forth from every orifice. Mouths, noses, eyes, and ears become fountains of grotesque expulsion. It is a sight that defies all logic and comprehension, leaving them frozen in disbelief and horror.

Yet, amidst the chaotic display of bodily torment, an unnatural stillness persists. The boys, though engulfed in their own bodily purging, remain eerily immobile. They do not writhe in pain or clutch their stomachs as one might expect. Instead, they stand like statues, allowing the red fluid to cascade onto the ground below. Their eyes, once vibrant and expressive, now widen with an otherworldly intensity. Thick crimson veins begin to snake across the whites of their eyes, growing darker and more pronounced with each passing moment, like ominous tributaries on a map of terror.

They stop.

A chilling stillness descends upon the scene as the expulsion of the crimson liquid abruptly ceases. The boys, their bodies drenched in the unsettling aftermath, remain frozen in place. No movement. No sound. They stand like statues, trapped in a nightmarish tableau.

Silence hangs heavy in the aftermath, enveloping the scene with an eerie stillness. The players who remain untouched by the gruesome ordeal are left in a state of shock, their faces streaked with tears, their mouths agape in silent horror. Their trembling bodies bear witness to the overwhelming weight of the unfathomable events unfolding before them.

Amidst the unsettling situation, the coach, his face smeared with congealed blood, shakes off the haze of confusion and takes charge. He reaches out, his hands firmly grasping Minjae's shoulders, his voice trembling with concern and fear, laced with the unmistakable cadence of his Busan dialect.

"Hey, son, are you alright? Can you hear me? Breathe, boy," he implores, his own complexion drained of color beneath the crimson stains as he stares at Minjae's bloody chin, his Real Madrid t-shirt drenched in blood. His words serve as a catalyst, stirring a flicker of response within the dazed players.

As if pulled back from the abyss of their stupor, the afflicted players turn their heads to gaze upon their coach, their eyes wide but emotionless. Their attention then snaps skyward, and in a collective crescendo, they unleash an agonizing scream that reverberates through the air, causing a shiver to course through the onlookers' spines.

The situation takes a horrifying turn as Minjae lunges towards the coach, embracing him tightly and burying his face in the coach's neck. The shocking realization dawns on everyone as Minjae emerges from his gruesome embrace, a grisly piece of the coach's larynx clenched between his teeth. Strands of skin still connect the gruesome morsel to the coach's throat, causing him to convulse and gurgle amidst the sea of his own blood.

Everyone screams.

Which seems to catch the attention of the other boys. Without hesitation, they give chase to their fellow teammates, swiftly overtaking them and leaping onto their backs. The air is filled with a macabre symphony of gnawing and crunching as they devour the bones and delve into the entrails of their unfortunate victims.

The class president, overwhelmed by fear, finds herself in a state of paralyzing terror. Tears cascade down her face, a clear manifestation of her profound distress. The weight of her emotions renders her legs immobile, leaving her trembling uncontrollably. Despite her desperate attempts to move, the overwhelming fear pulsating through her body proves insurmountable, binding her in place.

In the midst of her distress, she becomes aware of someone tugging at her, seeking to guide her to safety. However, her attention remains fixated on the overwhelming sensation of dryness in her throat. The weight of her fear becomes suffocating, and she longs to release it through a primal scream, hoping to alleviate the terror that grips her.

Abruptly, a sharp slap against her cheek breaks through the haze, snapping her back to reality with a resounding impact. The abrupt noise resonates within her, shaking her to her core and jarring her senses awake. In the midst of her heightened emotions, she lets out a heartfelt sob, tears streaming down her face as she gazes into Mingi's visage. The ashen hue on his face mirrors her own fear, a shared understanding of the imminent danger that surrounds them.

Startled by the urgency in the voice behind her, she registers the familiar tone of Hongjoong's commanding presence. The words "Move! Move! Move!" echo in her ears, compelling her to take action despite her trembling limbs and overwhelming fear.

Supported by Mingi's sturdy arms, she rises to her feet, her wobbly legs struggling to find stability. Turning to face him, she sees the confusion mirrored in his eyes, a reflection of her own disorientation. The surge of adrenaline courses through her veins, finally awakening her body to action. In the midst of chaos, she knows she must make a decision, but the overwhelming rush of emotions makes it difficult to discern the right path to take.

"To the shed, the fucking shed, everyone!" Startled by Hongjoong's urgent command, everyone's attention swiftly shifts towards the solitary brown cabin standing on the side. As her gaze fixates on the distant shed, its perceived distance seems to amplify her fear, causing tears to stream down her face uncontrollably. Mingi, sensing her distress, takes hold of her and guides her towards the shelter, but the overwhelming sense of dread threatens to paralyze her.

A sudden realization dawns upon her, and she becomes acutely aware that she is the only girl amidst a sea of boys. In a surge of panic, she wrenches herself free from Mingi's grasp and bolts back towards her previous position. Mingi's voice reverberates through the air, filled with urgency and concern, pleading for her to return, while the boys halt in their tracks, alarmed for her well-being.

With swift determination, she races back to her group of girls who huddle on the ground, their tears flowing freely. Her heart skips a beat as she spots one of the bloodied and deranged players noticing their presence, intensifying her sense of urgency. She manages to maintain her balance and propels herself forward, pushing her limits and sprinting even faster, propelled by a surge of adrenaline.

The boys behind her erupt in alarmed screams, their voices filled with urgency and fear. They, too, have noticed the approaching lunatic, his tongue lolling out and his bloodshot eyes revealing a disturbing state of mind.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation, she drops to her knees in front of Sakura, her voice trembling as she urges her friend to sit and gestures towards Kazuha and Chaewon, instinctively seeking safety in their familiar presence. With a determined expression, the class president rises to her feet, firmly grasping Yunjin and Garam's hands and directing their attention to the nearby shed. Her voice, filled with a mix of desperation and courage, pierces the air as she implores them to run.

As Eunchae's horrified screams fill the air, she swiftly turns towards her, a surge of fear coursing through her veins. With her heart pounding in her chest, she witnesses the chilling sight of a bloodied Jinsik standing just a meter away from the sobbing girl on the ground. Overwhelmed by a surge of adrenaline, she acts on instinct, lunging towards Eunchae in a desperate attempt to shield her from any impending danger. In her heightened state, she remains fixated on Jinsik's unnerving movements, her eyes locked on his presence, fear gripping at her throat.

In that surreal moment of realization, time seems to stretch out endlessly. As the girl comprehends the inevitable fate that awaits her, she releases a soft exhale, her grip tightening around the trembling form of Eunchae, tears mingling with those of the distressed girl. The pungent scent of the fresh blood permeates the air, a grim reminder of the approaching danger. Despite the overwhelming despair, a fragile smile quivers on her lips, a bittersweet acceptance of the inevitable, as she embraces the prospect of death with a sense of hopeless surrender.

In a sudden turn of events, a figure emerges from behind her, and she instinctively recognizes Yunho's distinctive long hair as he hurtles towards Jinsik with incredible force, colliding shoulder-first. The impact is jarring, sending the younger boy flying through the air, his neck contorting unnaturally as it twists 180 degrees. Amidst the chaos, there is no time to assess his condition as another presence grabs hold of her from behind. Raising her head, she finds herself face to face with Wooyoung, his determined expression urging them forward. With swift movements, he lifts both girls from the ground and propels them in the direction of the shed.

Wooyoung shifts his attention to Yunho, who stands frozen, his gaze fixated on the lifeless body before him. In that moment, Wooyoung realizes that Yunho's fear stems not from the immediate danger or the possibility of retaliation, but from the profound realization that he has just taken another person's life.

Wooyoung's voice trembles with a mixture of concern and reassurance as he calls out to the boy in front of him with urgency. "Yunho!" he exclaims, his tone serious and filled with genuine emotion. Yunho turns to face him, tears welling up in his eyes, the weight of his actions evident on his trembling lips. Wooyoung's words carry a comforting tone as he offers a heartfelt affirmation to the person who just saved his friend's life, acknowledging the difficult choice Yunho had to make. "You did good," he says.

Wooyoung's voice takes on a sharp edge as he snaps at Yunho, urgency in his tone. "Now move." he commands, his words pushing them both into action. However, their attention is abruptly diverted by an unexpected sound. A gurgle emanates from Jinsik's lifeless body sprawled on the ground. The boys exchange a startled glance, their eyes fixed on the source of the sound. A dead body shouldn't do that. A dead body doesn't make noise.

A sense of unease fills the air as Jinsik's lifeless body defies all expectations. His hand twitches, a disturbing sign of movement, and he slowly begins to rise. His upper body remains in a grotesque position on the floor, while his lower body stands upright. His head hangs limply to the side, an unnatural angle for a human neck. It's a horrifying sight as bones protrude painfully beneath the skin, contorting his neck into an unsettling shape.

Shock and disbelief fill Yunho's whispered exclamation, "what the fuck." The mangled body of Jinsik abruptly turns its attention towards him, swiftly darting in his direction with an unsettling speed.

Wooyoung's hoarse voice breaks through, urgently commanding Yunho to "fucking run!!". Surprisingly, Yunho finds a surge of strength within him, spurred on by Wooyoung's frantic plea. They both break into a sprint, their hearts pounding in their chests, while Jinsik's bloodcurdling screams echo behind them.

Gasping for breath, Yunho and Wooyoung catch up to the rest of the group, their pounding footsteps bringing them to the front of the shed.

Frantically pounding on the door, Yunho and Wooyoung shout to the people inside, desperately trying to make them aware of their presence. Wooyoung's gaze flicks back to the approaching horde of Jinsik and the other distorted boys, urging him to intensify his efforts in knocking on the door.

The muffled sounds of voices arguing can be heard from inside the cabin, indicating a disagreement among the occupants about whether or not to open the door. The fear in the air is palpable, as some students hesitate to confront the horrifying reality outside.

Exhausted and overwhelmed, Yunho finds solace in his prayers, seeking comfort and strength in the midst of the chaos. Leaning his head against the door, he embraces a brief moment of respite, hoping for a miracle to unfold.

Overwhelmed by exhaustion, Wooyoung is on the verge of following Yunho's lead and tries to find the words to pray when the door suddenly opens. In a rush, Yunho stumbles into the cabin, losing his balance as he seeks refuge from the relentless pursuit

Overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events, Wooyoung's eyes widen in shock as their class president opens the door. He takes in her disheveled appearance, tears streaming down her cheeks, and her heaving chest from exertion. As she grabs his arms, she forcefully pushes both of them inside the cabin, causing them to stumble and fall onto the floor. In the fall, Wooyoung lands on top of her body, momentarily disoriented. Meanwhile, San swiftly slams the door shut, sealing them off from the menacing presence of the bloodied players.

Jongho and Yeosang swiftly join San, realizing the urgent need to reinforce the door against the relentless onslaught of the deranged players. Together, they apply their collective strength, pressing against the door with all their might. The screams and frantic movements of the frenzied individuals outside grow even more desperate as they violently hurl themselves at the barrier, driven by a ravenous hunger for whatever lies within.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, the girl clings tightly to Wooyoung, seeking his comforting presence as a source of strength. Tears stream down her face as she buries her face in his arms, releasing the pent-up emotions that have gripped her. Wooyoung, with closed eyes, presses his face against her hair, finding solace in the familiar scent that surrounds her. His own tears fall freely, mingling with her hair as an expression of shared vulnerability. In a tender gesture, she pulls back slightly, and he gently wipes away the tears from her cheeks, showering them with soft, affectionate kisses.

Filled with overwhelming emotions, the girl shifts her attention to Yunho, extending her hand towards him. Tears continue to flow down Yunho's face as he lowers himself, squatting beside the tearful duo. In a moment of disbelief, the girl lets out a soft laugh, expressing her gratitude for his presence. She clasps his hand tightly, bringing it gently to her lips, pressing a tender kiss against his skin as she closes her eyes. With a heartfelt whisper, she softly utters a grateful "thank you" against his hand, causing Yunho to hide his face behind his large hand, his body trembling with emotion.

"Eonnie," a cry echoes from the background, capturing her attention. She swiftly turns to face Eunchae, her younger friend, who stands there with tears streaming down her face. The girl releases herself from Wooyoung's embrace and rushes over to Eunchae, enfolding her in a tight hug. They both sob uncontrollably. As the rest of the girls witness the emotional scene, they too approach, one by one, joining in the comforting embrace. The cabin resonates with their collective sobs, allowing them to release the pent-up emotions.

Gradually, their sobs begin to subside, and the other boys respectfully give them space, understanding the significance of the moment. However, their temporary respite is abruptly shattered when someone lets out a scream, jolting everyone back into alertness.

"Okay, shut up, we get it!" Joongki's voice reverberates through the room, his frustration evident as he ruffles his hair in exasperation. The girls flinch, startled by his sudden outburst. "You're not the only ones who almost died, stop fucking crying."

Seonghwa, taken aback by Joongki's words, swiftly pivots towards him, shielding the girls from his view. With a firm grip on Joongki's shirt, he pulls him closer, their faces mere inches apart. "What the fuck did you just say?" Seonghwa's voice seethes with anger, his forearm exerting pressure on Joongki's chest. "Huh? Wanna say that to my face you bitch?"

As tensions rise, Joongki's friends quickly move to restrain him, understanding the dire consequences of his anger escalating further. They hold him back, their arms forming a barrier between him and Seonghwa, trying to prevent any physical altercation. Meanwhile, San and Hongjoong step in, their voices calm but authoritative, attempting to defuse the heated situation.

"What are you gonna do about it, ah? I'll say whatever the fuck I want to" Joongki retorts, his voice laced with defiance as he meets Seonghwa's gaze head-on. The tension in the room escalates, both boys locked in a heated confrontation. Seonghwa's forehead veins bulge, his anger palpable.

To everyone's surprise, Seonghwa bursts into a disbelieving laughter. He releases his grip on Joongki and turns his attention towards the girls. The tension begins to dissipate.

However, in a swift and unexpected move, Seonghwa swiftly turns back to face Joongki, his fist connecting with the boy's face. Joongki crumples to the floor, his hand instinctively clutching his injured cheekbone, a pained grunt escaping his lips.

Pandemonium ensues as Joongki friends' charge towards Seonghwa, their anger fueling their actions. But they are met with a swift and fierce retaliation from seven other individuals who step forward, fists at the ready.

Punches fly through the air, landing with a resounding impact, as the room becomes a chaotic battleground.

A piercing scream echoes through the room, causing the boys to abruptly cease their fighting and hurling insults. All attention turns to Garam, who stands frozen, mouth agape, a look of horror etched across her face as she expels red blood onto the floor. Her eyes dart around desperately, searching for someone, anyone, to lend a hand, but all she encounters are fearful gazes.

Garam reaches out for Eunchae, but Kazuha quickly intervenes, shielding her from harm, pulling her behind her. Hongjoong swiftly maneuvers through the chaos, securing his position as the leader by stepping in front of his closest female friend and ushering her to safety, careful not to let her get closer to Garam's distressing state.

"Hongjoong, let me go," she pleads, her voice trembling behind him, her eyes locked onto Garam's terrified form, now crying tears of blood. "Hongjoong let me fucking go, I have to do something!" Her desperation grows, and tears well up in her eyes once again, but his grip only tightens around her. Jongho joins them, holding the girl as well, fearful of any sudden movements.

"Please... help me," Garam gurgles, her eyes turning red.

author's note: yall i just finished writing this and it's like at 5am, im so scared rn i cant go to sleep. im acc curious, did you guys think the last part was scary because i personnally think i was more scared of the scenes i imagined in my head than the text (idk if that makes sense), feel free to tell me in the comments or the asks, also rip minjae, jinsik, garam, u guys were luved.

yuyu and wooyo's reactions when he acc killed jinsik

masterlist

[heartlvrrss]

Doodle (part 1?)

Pairing: Haechan x reader

Word count: 1417

Genre: fluff, attempted and horribly failed comedy

Warnings: swearing, cringe and theres no kiss in this part </3 let me know if i missed any!

••••••••

A light hits my face, making me immediately move my tired arm to my face, hoping to block the horrid light from my eyes for the hope of at least getting a few more seconds of sleep.

Well that’s what I was at least  hoping for before a loud voice had to interrupt me, which of course belonged to lee donghyuck, who, was also my longterm friend since middle school when we met through an awkward encounter of when my boyfriend of 2 months broke up with me, 13 year old me was obviously heartbroken and what made it even worse was hyucks loud ass laugh that could be heard from across the globe. We somehow became friends shortly after, which made me become bewitched under his charm and somehow gain a life long crush on him.

Resuming to the current situation in our 3rd year of college, here I am trying to ignore his desperate whines to get me up, there was a reason i decided to not get a roommate but if a knew hyuck would technically be the same thing then maybe i would’ve opted for the roommate option earlier on.

“wake up” haechan screams into my ear for about the millionth time making me inch one bit closer to slapping the shit out of him

“Lee donghyuck will you please just shut the fuck up, its saturday for gods damn sake.” The annoyance evident in my voice

“but you promised to take me to the new cat cafe” the grown ass man whines

“Do I fucking look like your sugar mommy to you?” istg if he says yes ill slap him 

“youre not but, I am willing to take the offer just incase” that’s when I slap him for real making him let out an exaggerated yelp

“thats it. Ask one of your other hoes, im not taking you anymore”

Sadly, it seemed to not work as here I am walking with this absolute man-child to a cat cafe, once we arrived there I (obviously) firstly looked at the exterior, it was a cute little pink and off white cafe with a rusty pink chalkboard sitting outside for todays menu, a few white tables and seats with some flowers on each table to decorate it,

“It’s so cute” I squealed 

“I told you it would be nice” hyuck replies but I just ignore him.

As we go in there were a few people already sitting there, eating a pastry or drinking something with adorable cats on their laps. We walked to a table by a window and grabbed the menus, taking a look at them before a waiter comes

“Hello, have you already decided on what to order yet?” She asks,

“Just a few more minutes please” I reply before she says something again

“Ok, also you too are a very cute and good-looking couple” she smiles not knowing of my mini heart attack that I’m having right now,

“Oh, we’re not a-” I answer back in shock before being interrupted by hyuck

“Oh god, she’s like a sister to me” he says in a (fake but i’m to dumb to realize) disgusted tone which, to be honest, it hurt quite a bit but I brushed it off, there’s no way I could still have a crush on him after all this time, right? 

“My apologies” she smiles back before leaving.

“Well, have you decided on what to eat yet?” I ask trying to brush off the heartbreak and embarrassment rushing through my body at that second

***** (Time skip cuz Im not gonna put that much detail into that one scene)       

It’s Monday (sadly) and I’m being dragged from my beloved bed by haechan as usual, earlier then usual to class,he wanted to ‘be early’  though I know it was probably to chose who would be his new girlfriend (It’s taking me a lot to hold back from slapping him and telling him I’m right here) because it’s apparently been way to long since he’s had a girlfriend (literally like 9 months). 

“You know you could’ve just went alone without me” I whine

“I might look weird if I go alone won’t it look weird when I go alone and just look at other girls”

“No it would make me look like a creep”

“Do you know how many people think we are dating? Like 5 million, I think you would rather want to be a creep then a cheater to people who don’t know us”

“Now that you say that, you’re sadly correct? Y’know what, leave I’ll do this myself” He replies while trying to push me the other way

“Can you stop pushing me you shithead? Just in case you forgot we have the same class!” 

                         ********

“Can you please stop hitting me!” I complain to Haechan who’s been hitting me for almost the whole lesson

“I’m bored”

“And I’m trying to learn, so please for the sake of others and me would you please stop”

“How would it hurt others?” He says in a blunt voice

“How am I gonna support my future family because I’m getting rejected at every job because I didn’t pay attention during class?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to support us” 

What the actual fuck. “Lee Donghyuck.”

“Not the government name. Scary.” He says in a ‘scared’ tone yet I could hear the smirk on his face.

***********

I don’t know why I even chose to accept to go to a party with hyuck but here I am walking with him to the party

“Why did we have to walk?” Haechan whines

“Because you need to get up and walk, exercise is important”

“Don’t act like the last time you even went near a gym was when you wanted to get something to eat from the mcdonalds next to it”

“Oh, look! We’re here!” I say trying to change the topic of this convo

“Don’t try to change the subject!”

***

“Hyuck stop drinking, you’ve had so many shots I’m not even sure how you’re even alive right now” I complain to him

“You’re not my mother” he whined, clearly drunk.

“Do you want to end up like him?” I point over to mark who’s on the couch next to a bucket of puke grasping onto staying awake which the possibility of that happening is less possible than him getting hoes “Cause I don’t feel like taking care of you in that state” I look over to haechan who is trying to look like hes asleep, keyword; trying.

“Stop pretending to be asleep, you know that trick never works on me”

“Damn it” he replies clearly bummed out about the fact it didn’t work as usual

“Now get up, I’m not going to let you stay at this place any drunker than you already are

“I don’t wanna” He has the nerve to reply knowing he’ll oblige anyways the second I say it again

“It isn’t choice get up” This time he thankfully gets up, slightly staggering before I let him hold onto me for support

“I’ll call a cab” I say after we walk out the door and he just nods most likely not listening yet still looking at me like a toddler seeing it’s favorite cartoon on tv

“You’re really pretty actually” He says out of nowhere breaking the silence

“Hyuck it’s not the time for jokes right now, you’re just drunk you’re speaking nonsense” I say, brushing of the butterflies in my stomach

“I’m not lying though” Haechan whines like a child “Couldn’t you tell that I’ve liked you ever since I’ve met you?” he says again in a more serious tone this time

“I thought you were just joking all the time when you flirted with me, besides you’re always ‘girl hunting’” I mutter, still a bit shocked

“I only do that because I think you don’t like me back”

“I thought I was pretty clear about my feelings too” 

“Not really” he mutters but I choose to ignore it

“Let’s talk about this at my dorm, the cabs coming” I say still in a tiny bit of shock

“I wanna talk about this us now though” 

“Fine”

“So, are we like a couple now?” I question

“I hope we are” he smiles at me

“Let’s talk more when you are sober ok?”

“I’m sobering up though” he pouts at me

“Barely.”

*****

The end? (I might make a part 2 when theyre like a couple idk or the next morning, yall decide)