#I am not ready to be emotional destroy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

acid-ixx · 9 months ago

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brutus: out for blood (villain au concept)

ft. neglectful yandere! bruce wayne x gn villain! reader

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: did anybody ask for this? no! did i decide to write this anyways? abso -fucking-lutely. is this a rantfic? mayybee. anyways, this is not my best piece nor will anything i write be my best piece but i just love destroying my happiness with angst and altho writing a very anxiety ridden mc is fun, i also love to dabble in sadomasochistic traits for a main character. like i said, i am not proud of this but i figured i should post something. erm... leave comments bec i love reading whatever stuff u guys have in store hehe.

you've tasted blood on your tongue far longer than you've felt the loving touch of a family.

it's metallic. it's salty. it twists every vein in your gut.

it tastes of broken metal pipes in playgrounds, destructive tantrums and broken dreams, of skipped classes and detention rooms, of ripped test papers and missed diplomas. it reminds you of your bitter past every single time; one you swore you've buried six feet deep into the ground. a burning memory with nothing more than heartaches and heartbreaks.

you taste blood whenever they reject your advances for even a single moment of bonding time. you feel it pumping slowly, steadily, painfully whenever you stumble upon a room, only to see them, smiles and all, huddled together in a group with junk food in their hands and a movie playing in that stupid flat screen tv. you know it's the only thing accompanying you whenever he misses another event in your school. it becomes the only friend you have whenever you're alone, inside your too-small room, with shatters glass scattered around and bruised knuckles.

blood, for most, is vile, utterly repulsive. it reeks in every corner of a room, its scent is overpowering, it stains, it's hard to clean. it imprints. and it will always remind you it's there, in the depths of your body, curdling and boiling and ready to burst out of the seems every time you rip at your skin with a razor sharp blade. blood has always been your only friend, like a scar that will never fade away.

yet you embrace crimson like it was the color of your soul, and accept how it's the only color you allow in your grim life. black has never provided you solace, but red allowed for a mantra of emotions to trail into your very being.

blood. it's more homely than you let it out to be.

and you're far more familiar with it than anything else. you cradle it like an unwanted child, you kiss its wounds, allow it to fester and grow into an abhorrent disease that crawls like a lump in your throat that you could never get rid of.

in moments of solace, of quaint prayers and hours of kneeling into the floor— it is the thing that slides on cold, hard tiles. it is the warmth, the numbness, the thing that seeps out of your bruised knees, your scratched neck and your thighs with fingernails buried deep into flesh.

you've come to love blood, cherish it even.

especially if it's your own.

especially if it came from the punch of none other than your father.

left, right, left, right.

his punches were cruel and his kicks can easily crush bones into powder. he demands answers with every strike he delivers, he exudes an energy far more adrenaline based than yours. batman is methodical in the way he moves, the way he acts, and you're not; you're impulsive, you had no plans to counter the towering man— no counter for the brutal hits he lay upon you. you let him, you open every doorway world to beat your body black and blue, with red painting the canvas as a finishing touch.

he's stronger than you, and every time he bashes your head into the wall, the urge to spit into his face, to piss him off, to laugh at him and his Idiocracy; it all becomes stronger.

yet all you do was allow him multiple openings, denying yourself the pleasure of attempting to even take your abandoned gun at the corner and shoot at his cranium— you want him to suffer, even if it costs you your mobility by the near future, fuck it.

up, down, to the side, then an uppercut to your jaw and you're nearly depleted of anymore moves to counter. you want to seem like you've given up; but you want him pissed off, enough to punch you 'til blood seeps into the fibers of your mask. until your face starts bruising, until your nose breaks, until he finally rips your mask off and sees your face.

and he'll come to regret.

you shift to the side, and ignore the sting of your throat, the lull of your head and the soreness of your entire body.

because if you hadn't dodged, then your head would've left an imprint on the walls. you would've preferred that now, rather than the disgusting feeling of sentimentality that creeps into your heart at the implication that his blows were slowly, but surely, weakening.

he's holding back, you hold back a sneer.

as if he actually cares about you.

maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. you know he cares far more deeply for his enemies than he does you, and you hate how glad you are at the pride that finally, just finally are you being acknowledged. at the opposite end of his side, as enemies. but for once you can feel the care he offers others, most of which were nonexistent back when you were just some... nobody.

batman never kills; but he can hurt, he can injure, and he can destroy. and right now, you feel all the air leaving your body as the cloaked vigilante delivers the last punch to your ribcage.

you fall, on your hands and knees, a loud thump resounding through the empty abandoned building. all you hear are your crackling joints, and heavy breathing. heavy, like your eyelids, about to fall, about to shut until black encompasses your vision. if not for the remaining adrenaline coursing through your veins, you would've fainted— but you won't, you wouldn't, not until you see him, see his face.

the thumping in your heart beats louder, and your hands. god, they feel like jelly, it's burning, it's one step closer on collapsing under gravelly concrete and piercing skin into rocks. yet you're forbidden any time for grace, not when he lightly shoves you out of your position, and not when you fall to your sides, hands paralyzed, tears prickling against your cheeks at the pain that burns throughout your body.

"you don't deserve peace after shooting that family in front of that child, you know it."

his voice, domineering, absolutely fucking vibrating with a tremor of sheer anger. he directs his words at you, without empathy, without mercy. he wants you to learn to never mess with him in the streets of gotham. but you'll never... not until he notices you. fuck, you just want him to notice you. and now, he is, with utter vexation that causes a lump in your throat to form.

shit, you've never felt so happy.

it's when his tussled form — heavy, pitch-black boots slathered with crimson liquid — enters your sight that you cough, violently, out of breath, and you can feel it one second, then taste it in your tongue the next.

blood.

you grin, and slowly, ever-so eminently, did you spiral into a cackle. your throat gurgles crimson liquid, and yet it only builds into a cacophony of a broken record. you move your head, look through your nearly shredded domino mask, with so little strength to accompany you, to look at the man above you, eyes glinting with a glow never so alive until now.

you're genuinely so fucking happy.

batman, he who strikes fear into the hearts of gotham villains and civilians alike. he who protects the city at night. he whose name is said with wavering uncertainty— he's looking at you, only you.

'bruce wayne: my dad— is finally looking at me.'

and you! you're laughing, the sounds that emanate from your throat are so scratchy, so utterly decimated that it sounds like vultures feeding through a dead corpse; but you don't let your chuckles die down, because you're so, so happy.

he looks at you, with contempt, with disgust, you don't know; but you're still so overjoyed.

"y-yeah... it's me, i did it. are you proud of me...?" you ask as you look up, through the tears that flow out your eyes, through the grin that couldn't die down. he looks at you like you're insane, and you know he's confused, shifting uncomfortably as he gives someone a status update through the comms, his eyes never leaving your pathetic form—

you look at him like he means the world all throughout.

"call for red robin, i have one of the culprits," he orders through the intangible device, eyes squinting as he takes you in— you whose chuckles slowly calmed down, as your breathing finally becomes heavier, as blood, yours, seem to seep into clumsily made apparel. you, who bruce realized seem too oddly familiar, too small, too childish, whose moment of spiraling insanity is too damn innocent to ignore.

you're not like the typical rogue he encounters, no. and right before you finally allow sleep to overcome you, you muster the last of your energy, to stare back at him with shining eyes, expectant, and like a child's, you ask with the meekest voice.

"hey... dad, i have a surprise." scratchy, absolutely broken, yet spilling with joy, with... your last word right before you continue, bruce's heart thumps ever the slightest faster.

"take my mask off, please?"

crimson began to overtake your entire body, and bruce should've never complied with your... request, but as he kneels and finally gets a grasp of what you truly look like, he notices the frailness, the vulnerability, as if you were never built for... combat. with just how quickly you succumb to the depths of rest, with how oblivious you are to the fact that if it were anyone else, they would've killed you.

you're not properly trained, you fight out of impulse, and he knows it with just how swift you gave up midfight.

when he pulls the domino mask (which seems oddly inspired by the shape of... his vigilante partners, the robins...) off your face, did his heart finally hastened its pace, loud thumping crawling its way to his ears, his eyes registering your face: its form, its shape, your eyes, your nose—

all similar to his, all an amalgamation of your mother's, too.

no... wait, no.

it's not...

it's not his... child?

you?

your eyes, flickering one last time stared at him, softly, like that of a child who looks at their father with pride like nothing else. your hand, it shakes, it shivers, as your fingers find its way creeping to his hand, holding your mask. fingers so dainty, now pulverized bones lay atop his shivering hand, tenderly, as if trying to comfort the very same man who has nearly killed you.

batman— no, bruce looks at you. at what he's done, and only now did he realize his greatest mistake. a child, his child, one whose innocence retained through heinous acts, now a villain, whose actions were all a testimony to merely wanting their father's attention.

he failed you, his child. he failed to protect you, who he has never held up close until now— as your body is hastily taken into his arms. so small, so easily wrapped around his body, so unbefitting of committing criminal activity. now bloodied and laid into barren ground by their very own father.

bruce wayne never felt this much terror, for nearly killing his child.

this, this day marks his sin.

and you? dearest you feel like today is your greatest day.

crimson, nearly every part of you is stained with that putrid color.

yet blood has always been your best friend, no? and right now as you bleed into the arms of your father, you find yourself grateful that it is the last thing you see before a black cloak wraps around you, before black fills your entire line of sight.

short rant ahead: another author's note??? wow. yeah this was such a hard drabble to write. plsplspls leave a comment or some sort of input. anything will do. ive been so demotivated to write lately and i feel like anything i write is just, so bad 😭 like is my pacing good? are the emotions out of place? am i even doing this right ?? i don't know, and i feel like every time i post something i always put up expectations on myself that I should've done better so yeahh. is this attention seeking behavior? probably. but i don't get how people have come to like the stuff i write when i hate whatever i write hence why im in a constant cycle of hiatuses and short breaks. and really, it's just so hard to come into terms with things and i need input lest i accidentally get into a year or two of hiatus, lmaoo.

#🌷... yael's works #🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again #concept: brutus #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere angst #platonic yandere #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n

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veethefreeelf · 2 years ago

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How many chances are too many chances? Y.JH

This is part 2 to ‘How many times does it take to get smarter?’ Get ready for a rollercoaster of emotions and I’M SORRY ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ

Summary:

It’s been 6 months since the night you and Jeonghan went your separate ways. You’re sure he has moved on and you… are working on moving on. Nothing can go wrong, right?

Wordcount: 14k (SORRY)

Warnings: pussy slapping, some spanking, slut is used a lot, oral f. receiving (face-sitting), vaginal penetration - unprotected sex, Jeonghan is hot and bossy - dom af, cream-pie, slight dumbification

Requested: yes, by popular demand

P.S - Italic is for thoughts mainly from the characters’ perspective and quotes. Bold is for text messages/calls/voice messages between characters

It’s been 6 months since you had seen each other. Since you told him everything you had been holding back for years and he walked away from you. He walked away from your friendship as if everything you two had shared over the years had been meaningless. As if you were replaceable.

You were doing okay. In the first few weeks you had cried yourself to sleep. You even destroyed all the pictures you had with him like a teenager in a movie. But eventually, it started getting easier. Waking up and not getting a single text from him or call during the day got easier. You started getting used to the silence.

You had also put the pictures you ripped apart back together. Very clumsily but you tried. You loved some of those pictures and they contained some of your very favorite memories with him and all the boys. You couldn’t get rid of it. You couldn’t also look at them so after you fixed them, you decided they would now live in a permanent corner in your closet in a box and hopefully, one day, you’ll be able to look at them again and smile.

In these 6 months, things have been going well with everything else in your life. You got a promotion. You and your family had been closer than ever and you had great friends who had helped you put everything behind you. Well… most of your friends.

Some of them, like the one calling you right now, wanted nothing more but for the both of you ‘to stop being fucking idiots and be together’. It’s been a struggle balancing seeing the boys and not seeing Jeonghan. You had mostly skipped all of your usual gatherings because you knew he would be there. You knew you would be the one losing the boys. They had been friends for far longer than you had been in their lives, so when a falling out like this happens, of course, you would be the one that would walk away.

This however, has made all the boys very annoyed. They have all called you at some point to tell you they were angry at you and wanted you back with them. ‘It isn’t fair’ they kept telling you.

You agree. Nothing about this is fair. It’s sad. For everyone. Everyone lost something, somehow and you blame yourself for it.

You should answer the phone though, otherwise, the boy known as your twin would cause absolute mayhem in all of your lives. He has already threatened you about it enough times for you to know he would do it without hesitation.

“Hello, Kwannie. Calling in the middle of the day is not very on brand for you. You good?” you asked.

“I’m amazing. I am calling you in the middle of the day because you have decided to ignore Soonyoung and he is now pouting and making my life hell. I have many questions. Number one: How dare you?” Seungkwan is the first one they use when they want something from you. Fair enough. Not even you want to deal with the anger of your friend.

“Kwannie… Now, now… That’s no way to speak to me even if you are using Office quotes which I very much appreciate” you said with a teasing tone.

“Haha very funny, Y/N. You have been hilarious in the past 6 months, you know that? Amazing. And as much as I would LOVE for you to continue being this way, I am the one that has to deal with the consequences of you ghosting all of us” he stated in an incredibly monotonous tone. You know what’s coming next and it’s mostly why you have avoided them all.

“Seungkwan, I haven’t ghosted any of you. I’m busy, you know that… That’s all…” you said in your best apologetic tone.

He laughed dryly and added: “You can’t be serious. I know you’re busy, promotion and all. But you also know after everything that happened, communication between us and you has been extremely difficult. You barely show up to any of our usual outings, you don’t speak in the group chat. Look… I get it, I do. But we shouldn’t all be punished because one of us is a complete idiot, and I know you know that too”.

You knew he was right, they didn’t deserve any of it. It wasn’t their fault. But how can you just show up to things with Jeonghan there? How can you join in the group chat with everyone while you know you have his number blocked and deleted everything related to him on your phone?

You had done a pretty good job moving on in every other part of your life. But not here, not with the boys. You didn’t know how. You hadn’t found that balance yet and you weren’t sure you were ready to see him yet. Or at all.

“Your silence is deafening, Y/N” Seungkwan spoke on the other side of the line.

“I’m sorry… You know I am but… I’m not ready, Seungkwan. And to be honest, I’m not sure I ever will be” you said sadly.

“Hey… We’re your friends too, you know? Don’t push us away, please. Not anymore. That’s all we’re asking. Well… Soonyoung is also asking for you to come to his party this Saturday. The guys’ performance team was picked to go to the international competition and he wants you there to celebrate. We all do”.

Seungkwan always knew what to say to get you to cave. It was why everyone called you twins, you always knew what to say to get the other one to do whatever you wanted, no matter what.

“They made it? That’s fucking amazing. Tell them--”

“Tell them yourself, Y/N. Saturday. Soonyoung’s place. 8:30. Not gonna lie to you. He’ll be there. But you don’t have to interact with him. It will be a big party and I won’t leave your side. Promise.” he interrupted you but you get it.

You’re not sure if you should go. This doesn’t sound like a good idea at all. But you miss them. All of them. Hanging out like before, playing beer pong, letting Seungkwan destroy everyone at Karaoke…

“And this has nothing to do with your personal interest in beating Shua and Vernon at beer pong, Boo Seungkwan?” you asked to lighten the mood a bit.

“Well… If your falling out with Jeonghan gives me the opportunity to pair up with you after all these years, finally, and destroy them… I call that an added bonus!” he said jokingly.

“Is there a theme? Hoshi always has a theme…” you asked.

“College. Yes, I know… Don’t ask. He said college and everyone went with it” he said with a distaste but you know he loves Hoshi more than he would like to admit. Even if he swore to keep calling him Soonyoung out of spite.

“And, if I go, which by the way, I am not saying that I will… You won’t leave my side? The whole night?” you asked and he reassured you right away.

“Of course. I promise. He won’t have a chance to talk to you, I’ll keep him away. I would also volunteer to take your phone but we both know you have him blocked so that’s not going to be necessary”.

Weird. You haven’t told anyone you blocked Jeonghan. I mean, it’s an easy assumption to make but he seemed confident when he said it. You wondered how he knew.

After you promised you would think about it and heard Hoshi cheering in the background, you talked a bit more about your lives and what has been going on and you hung up after a while of catching up.

You spent the rest of your Sunday thinking about this. You know Seungkwan will keep his promise and you know this isn’t a trap but… you’re not ready to see him.

You don’t know if you’ll be strong enough not to speak to him. Sure, you haven’t spoken to him in the last 6 months but you have thought about unblocking him multiple times. Maybe going to this party is not the best idea.

Friday night comes at you fast. You were so busy the whole week that the week flew by and you are now panicking about tomorrow. You hadn’t thought about this party most of the week, you hadn’t had time and here you were. In front of your closet, trying to pick clothes that say ‘college’ apparently and wondering if you should even go at all.

You know if you called any one of them right now and told them you weren’t going, they would collectively be mad at you and even plot to get you there somehow.

It’s too late to back out. You’re going tomorrow. And… you’ll be fine. Seungkwan will be with you and you will hang out with the boys and you will ignore him.

You started laughing out loud. Ignore him? Please, you want to think you are so important in his life but if you were, he wouldn’t have left you the way he did. He probably doesn’t care that you’re going. Why would he even want to speak with you? Leaving was his choice.

After 30 minutes of hurting yourself and staring at your closet, you start getting several messages from all the boys. You knew it. They weren’t going to let you out of this one and they had decided to collectively torture you. Using Shua and Vernon’s emotional blackmail was a bit much but you knew they were throwing everything at you to make sure you were going.

You pulled out your regular college outfit and set it in your chair next to your bed, made yourself some warm tea and went to the couch to binge a show. ‘Hopefully the tea and the show will make me fall asleep’ you thought.

You were wrong. You barely slept. You kept moving around in bed, trying to fall asleep. Heart beating out of your chest. You don’t know how you’ll survive this.

You decided to keep busy the whole day. It had worked during the week so you went to visit your sister and see your nephew. He would keep you occupied. He had brought a light into your life you didn’t know could be there and you know he will always keep you entertained and you will do the same for him.

This had all gone well until your sister tells you they have a birthday party to attend at 4:30 so you’d have to leave pretty soon.

Great. Of course.

As soon as you got home, you got a FaceTime call from Lily.

Lily was your best friend since middle school. You had been through everything together and you were as close as sisters. You had introduced her to the boys shortly after you had met them and she fit right in. Not only that but she fell in love. She and Seungcheol have been together since they met. ‘Love at first sight’ they both said. You had always been jealous of that. It had always been so easy for them. Meeting, falling in love, growing together. You were also unbelievably happy for them, especially Lily. She deserved the world.

“Let me guess… Outfit check?” you asked after answering the call.

“Duh! Let me see what you chose! We could match tonight. It’s been such a long time since we wore matching outfits, Y/N! Since college actually, which is the theme. Do you see how perfect this is???” she asked excitedly.

“There’s a reason why we haven’t done that since college, Lil” you laughed.

“Oh come on! It would be hilarious!” she tried to convince you.

“Seungcheol left you high and dry, huh? So now you come to me for a matching outfit? Your second choice, really? Hmm… Not very convincing, I must say” you started teasing her.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you are both boring…” she said pouting.

“Look, I already picked it out. You’re not gonna like it, so Seungcheol is probably your best option between the two of us” you laughed as you warned her.

You knew her taste, she had always been way braver than you when it came to outfits for parties and, only on special occasions, did you let her win and change your whole outfit. This is definitely not one of those times. She knew that too.

“Fine. Don’t need either of you. See you there. Will be mad” she said and hung up on you.

You knew the game, she’ll pretend to be angry but by the time the party starts and you’re there she has already forgotten and all the love comes back immediately.

It was still fairly early. 5PM. You had 3 and a half hours to kill. You were tired. You had barely slept. ‘A nap it is’ you thought.

It sounded like a great idea and it felt like a great idea until you woke up and realized you had forgotten to set your alarm. It was now 9PM and your phone was blowing up.

Everyone was pissed. Damage control. Call Hoshi. He seemed the angriest from all the texts and missed calls you had. You explained it to him and told him you will be there. He sounded skeptical but he finally let you off the phone to get ready.

You had gotten ready in record time and managed to get to the party before 10PM.

As soon as you walked in, you felt at home. You missed this. So much. Too much.

You hear several screams and noise and you know you've been spotted.Seungkwan and Hoshi rush over to you being the loudest people in the room as usual.

“You boys sure know how to make a girl feel welcome” you tell them with a big smile.

“Took you long enough. The beer pong tournament will start soon. Start drinking, warm-up. Come on, Y/L/N. This is THE YEAR” Seungkwan tells you.

“Quiet, Seungkwan. This is the outfit you chose, really?” Hoshi looks you up and down.

“How dare you? I spent most of my college years in this sporty outfit. I look amazing, thank you very much” you stated and squinted your eyes at him.

“You also didn’t get laid often in college did you, Y/N?” he asked cockily.

“Well, not all of us can be the slut of the campus, Hoshi. You earned that title, very early on” you teased him.

“I missed you… Never disappear again, we will all chase you down” Hoshi said sincerely.

“Yeah. yeah. Emotional get together, we are all in tears, wow. Now, let’s go, Y/N. We need to destroy them. Warm up” Seungkwan interrupted your moment with Hoshi.

Suddenly, you see out of the corner of your eye movement towards you three.

Shua, Vernon and Seokmin are all running towards you. Seokmin picks you up and spins you around very excitedly.

“Is this a rom-com in the nineties? Put her down, Seokmin, we all missed her and want a well deserved hug” Shua said.

You hugged the three boys. Vernon didn’t say a word, just gave you a knowing nod. Very typical.

“Congratulations on the promotion, Y/N! We all heard about it and we are so happy for you. You worked so hard, you earned it” Seokmin said while holding your hand.

“Yeah, we wanted to take you out to celebrate but… it’s been hard reaching you most of the time” Vernon said looking in your eyes. There it is. The guilt trip. You deserved this and they knew who to choose to make you feel that way.

“I know, Hansol. I’m sorry. I’ll be better from now on. Promise” you said sincerely.

While you were all silent, sharing this moment, a scream, more like a screech, echoed through the party and you all looked in it’s direction.

Lily. Yup. Very obvious. She is walking as fast as she can in her heels towards you with a huge smile on her face and with Seungcheol right behind her.

And there he was. Right behind Seungcheol. Walking in your direction.

And he wasn’t alone. Of course. Next to him was this cute, small girl with big eyes. She looked so innocent and small. Just his type.

All of your worries disappear. He’s not going to talk to you. He never cared. You truly had been such a fool for so long. You wonder how you never saw through it. It doesn’t matter. You decide to focus on the people in front of you that truly love you and are so happy to see you.

“You were right about the outfit. I hate it” Lily says after hugging you and dropping her smile.

You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s the reason I didn’t get laid in college. You’re too late for that joke, Lil. But thanks, for the clear and unconditional support on your side, as usual” you said annoyed.

“Come on… It’s not the only reason… Your resting bitch face and bombastic side eye were the main reasons you didn’t get laid in college” she said and everyone laughed.

“Okay, it’s been nice seeing you all. Leaving now. See you all in a year” you started to turn away.

“No way you’re leaving. It’s been months, you owe us this. Better bring your A-game tonight, Y/N. Some of us aren’t in a merciful mood” Seungcheol pulled you back into the group.

“That’s all you got for me, Seungcheol? You’re getting soft” you said, challenging him.

“It’s your fault. Left me all alone with all of them. You brought this on yourself” he said, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Hi, Y/N. Congratulations on the promotion” Jeonghan spoke, almost whispering. He sounded nervous.

Everyone whipped their heads around to look at Jeonghan and then you. They kept looking between the two of you. Some of them expected you to blow up and some of them expected you to be polite and cordial. You surprised all of them.

You looked away from Jeonghan without speaking a word. You turned to Seungkwan and locked your arm with his.

“So? Lead me to our victory, partner. Or should I replace you before we even start?” you asked him.

“Absolutely not, you’re mine. We’re gonna destroy all of you. Prepare yourselves” he stared at Vernon, Shua and Seungcheol specifically.

Then he led you towards the alcohol. You were extremely thankful for him.

Seungkwan might have met Jeonghan before he met you but there was a reason everyone said you must have been twins in another life. He suffered the way you did, his reactions were similar. Your side eyes? Unmatched. The only thing you were mainly different was in pettiness. He had the ability to be much more petty and cruel if needed than you. Until tonight.

Seungkwan was proud of you. Maybe it didn’t look polite but Jeonghan had ripped your heart out, put it through a blender and served it back to you on a silver platter. You owed him nothing. He made his choice when he left you and he is reaping the consequences.

Hoshi and Seungcheol stood on top of the living room table and warned everyone:

“Beer pong tournament starts in 30 minutes. Sign up with your partners now!”

“Keep drinking, warm up, I’ll sign us up. We got this!” Seungkwan tells you immediately.

He was way too excited for this but you understand him and everyone else. It had been far too long since you had all been together, relaxing like this, having fun. And it had been even longer since the beer pong partners had changed.

Usually, you and Jeonghan were always a team. The cheater and the angel who convinces everyone their moves are within regulation due to some unchecked loophole. Shua and Vernon, the americans. Always a team. Always made it to the finals against you and Jeonghan. Seungcheol and Hoshi were always a team. An unlikely one but one that always worked. Seungkwan always forced Woozi to be his partner even though Woozi just wanted to be left alone. Everyone else was pretty okay partnering up with whomever was available and they didn’t put too much effort into fighting everyone for a partner. Mingyu and Wonwoo, Seokmin and Dino, and lastly, Jun and Minghao. They were the good ones. The ones that played for fun only. At least in this game.

This time around, Woozi finally thought he would get some peace but Jeonghan was forced to pick him since obviously you would not be pairing up with him.

You joined everyone around the table and started a conversation with Lily who always got bored watching you guys compete. Well, until Seungcheol started to lose, then she got mad at everyone. It was adorable.

You could overhear Jeonghan trying to convince Woozi to join him and at that moment a voice you did not know breaks you out of focus.

“Hi! I’m Haneul! Jeonghan invited me here tonight. The guys are pretty close, huh? Wanted to see if I could join you girls while they play and maybe find out a few secrets about Jeonghan” she giggled.

Lily looked at you and then back at Haneul.

“Hi, Haneul. I’m Lily. This is Y/N. We met the boys in college. Or, Y/N met some of them in college and then we all got put together into this insane group. How do you know Jeonghan?” She asked her.

She really knew you inside and out. She knew you weren’t going to speak a word to this girl and at the same time, you wanted to know everything about her. You hated it. You hated him. He made you this way. This poor girl had done nothing to you, yet here you were hating everything about her for absolutely no rational reason.

“Oh, from work. I just started at the company and I got assigned to Jeonghan’s team. He’s such a great guy--”

You walked away. Nope. Not tonight. You worked hard to get over him. You knew this would be a reality one day. Sure, you thought it would happen much later but you have to face it now. He’s here with someone he thinks is worthy of him and that he clearly wants to have a serious relationship with. He never brings anyone around the boys unless he means it. And she was so perfect for him. Your complete opposite.

You want to vomit. You hate this. You hate it here. How are you supposed to play a game and have fun when this is happening? It was way too soon. You shouldn’t be here, you knew. You knew this was a mistake. You started thinking of ways out. Trying to find a way to sneak out, turn off your phone and hope in the morning, the boys feel forgiving.

“Stop trying to figure out a way to sneak out” Seungcheol spoke beside you.

“How did you know?” you asked him, sounding sad.

“Because if I were you, I’d be thinking about the exact same thing” he answered and put his arm around you to comfort you.

“I missed you, Cheolie” you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

He kissed the top of your head and asked “Is that why we barely spoke these last few months?”

“Not you too, Cheolie…” you said as you moved away from him.

“Come on, you know we have to. You disappeared. You both said your… ‘situation’ wasn’t going to change anything but it changed everything. You both deserve the shit you’re being handed by all of us” he said as he sipped his beer.

“So you’re giving him shit, too?” you asked, also sipping your drink.

“Oh he’s got it so much worse than you, Y/N. You have no idea the kind of pain we unleash on him on a daily basis” he said and smiled at you.

You knew he meant it too.

“Good. He’s earned it” you said and you both laughed.

“LET US BEGIN!” Hoshi yelled at the top of his lungs.

He jump scared everyone in the room and Seungkwan was ready for murder. Poor Mingyu had to hold him back from Hoshi as Hoshi ran off laughing as loudly as possible.

‘Some things never change’ you thought to yourself.

The tournament started and everything was going well. You were distracted and having fun, finally. And Seungkwan never left your side. Well… that’s not entirely true, but every time he did, he made sure one of the boys was there to prevent you from running away.

You and Seungkwan had made it to the Semi-finals. A place Seungkwan had never been in all of these tournaments. He always blamed the cheaters but now here you were. And you were going to face Jeonghan and Woozi in the semi-finals.

Of course. You looked up and sighed. The universe really enjoys watching you suffer. It’s like it knows how much you love competitive Jeonghan and has decided to torture you even more. Because it’s not enough he looks that good and it wasn’t enough when he walked towards you with a little girlfriend behind him, no. That wasn’t enough. You needed to suffer more.

Seungkwan grabs you by the shoulders and makes you stare at him.

“A little creepy, don’t ya think?” you asked him and laughed.

“Stop laughing. Look at him. I want you to put your pain to use” he said, and almost growled at you.

“Excuse me?” you asked, but you knew what he was going to say next.

“He brought a girl here. Look at her. Very cute. Just his type, isn’t she? And, he barely tried speaking to you. Get angry, let’s destroy him” he told you while staring at you.

“Seriously, Seungkwan? That’s low” you said.

“You know what’s low? Knowing you were coming and bringing her. Use it. I need this win, Y/N and so do you” he said as he let go of your shoulders and started focusing on your adversaries.

You get what Seungkwan is doing and you know if you were Sengkwan you would be able to channel all of that energy and anger towards winning, but you’re not Seungkwan. This is where your personalities diverge completely. Right now, all of those thoughts, everything that has happened tonight… You are trying your hardest to just not cry. Do. Not. Cry.

Long story short. You lost. Bad. You sucked. Bad. And you wanted out. Bad.

As soon as the final shot sinks and the match ends, you get out of that living room and you go hide.

You need to breathe, you can’t breathe there. You’re suffocating.

You don’t know how long you stay in the guest bathroom. You’re on the floor, tears running down your face and your breathing has finally started to stabilize. ‘You’re fine. You’re okay. You’ll be fine’ you kept telling yourself over and over.

You get up, clean your face, take one last look in the mirror and try to make yourself look presentable. You needed to leave this party. This was too much, too soon. The boys would have to understand.

You leave the bathroom and as you’re about to leave the guest bedroom, he spoke up behind the bathroom door.

“Not even a hello, love?”

Your heart started beating so loudly, you started shaking. How dare he? How dare he do this to you? You looked back at him over your shoulder and said:

“Don’t make the wrong choices and expect no consequences, Jeonghan. You shouldn’t keep Haneul waiting.”

And you left.

You left. This time, you had the power. You closed the door behind you and you started getting ready to leave. Some of the boys ran over to you.

“I had fun, I did. But I have to go, okay? I’m sorry Soonyoung. And congrats to you boys, you deserve this. You worked too hard so kill it, okay?” you said with a weak smile on your face looking between Hoshi, Jun, Minghao and baby Dino.

They all gave you a huge group hug and let you leave.

You got home and you cried yourself to sleep, again.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry for him anymore, no matter what. But here you are. In bed, crying.

You wonder if you even understand Jeonghan at all. If you ever did. He left, didn’t try to contact you but tried to speak to you when you first walked in the party. Brought a new girl to the party he knew you would finally be at and pretended to sulk when you didn't answer his greeting.

You have no idea what he wants. You never did. But it doesn’t matter. Not anymore.

In a way, now you can heal. You saw him with someone else, the worst possible scenario in your head and you survived. Barely. But you did. You’ll learn to navigate these feelings and you’ll get better at forgetting him.

Tonight was difficult but tomorrow will be better.

It had been two weeks since the party. You had been busy and hadn’t had time to think much more about it. And, you also didn’t want to think about it or talk about it at all.

So, you may have been ignoring the texts the boys sent and even Lily. You just didn’t have the energy at this point. You were still drained and trying to find your bearings.

You knew this wouldn’t last much longer. They were very persistent when they had to be and when they wanted to be.

Today you decided to have lunch delivered and eat in your office. It was one of the days you needed to be in the office and you were already drained. You didn’t expect any visitors, especially at lunch time but there’s a knock at your door.

“Who is it?” you asked from your desk, pausing your Youtube video.

Lily doesn’t even reply and just opens your office door and comes right in.

“Well, hello there. Why did you knock if you’re just gonna make yourself at home either way?” you asked her playfully.

“I’m mad at you. This is the silent treatment, in case you’ve forgotten what that feels like” she said as she crossed her arms.

“Not much of a silent treatment if you stalk me all the way here AND speak to me or is it?” you asked again.

“You’re unbelievable you know that, Y/N? We barely speak or see you for 6 months, you show up to one party, leave abruptly in the middle of it and start to ignore us again and you still think this is a joke? Keep pushing us away like this and one day none of us are going to push back anymore” she said and your smile fell from your face.

“I’m sorry, Lil. Jeonghan caught me alone at the party and… I had to leave after that. I couldn’t be there anymore. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I wasn’t ready to see him yet and definitely not ready to see him with someone else so quickly after our falling out” you said honestly.

Lily sighed and smiled sadly at you.

“Let’s talk about it? You haven’t talked to anyone about it since the falling out. I really think it’s time you share your burden with someone. You can’t keep carrying this alone. It’s going to keep suffocating you. Let it out with me, yeah? Tomorrow? I can come over, we can spend the day together, talking and binge eating and drinking. Like the old days. Let me be your friend, Y/N”

“Deal” was all you said but it was enough to make Lily smile more brightly.

She hugged you and said her goodbyes and your day continued.

Maybe she was right. You had not talked about it with anyone. Maybe you’ve healed as much as you can on your own. You need support. You need your friends.

The next day you woke up and you were excited. You hadn’t spent a full day with Lily like this in a very long time. You missed this so much.

You went out for a quick grocery run to get all her favorite snacks and drinks and some other additions you needed for your home and you decided since you weren’t going to bring too much back that you would walk to the store. You could use the fresh air.

As you were walking there, you kept thinking about what Seungkwan had said before. He knew you had blocked Jeonghan but how? You hadn’t told anyone and sure, it could be an obvious assumption, but he knew. With certainty.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of Jeonghan having tried to contact you after that night and finding out he was blocked. How did that make him feel? Why did he tell Seungkwan? And did he try to contact you more times after that? How many more times?

‘Why do I care? Why am I torturing myself?’ you asked yourself. But you know why. Deep down (maybe not that deep down) you wanted him to try to contact you. You wanted him to feel like shit when he realized you blocked him, and you wanted him to keep trying to contact you.

You just wanted him.

How pathetic is that? He keeps hurting you and you keep wanting him. Always.

After you got home and prepared everything for Lily’s visit, you sat on your kitchen counter staring at your phone next to you.

‘Don’t do it. Don’t do it. I shouldn’t do it. This is a fucking bad idea. Stop being weak. Don’t do it’ you kept telling yourself over and over again. As you were about to do something very stupid, your doorbell rings and you thank all the heavens and Gods above.

You opened the door and a very excited and happy Lily barged in.

“Did you miss me? How long has it been since we did this? Feels like forever…” she said as she started taking out her blankets and pillows and setting up your living room for a proper girls day.

“I want to unblock Jeonghan. Is that stupid?” you asked abruptly and so quickly that Lily thought she misheard you.

Lily slowly turned around and looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Why?” she asked.

“I just… Seungkwan mentioned before that he knew I had blocked Jeonghan and I thought that was weird because I didn’t tell anyone anything and it got me thinking that yeah, I know, he could’ve made that comment based on an assumption but you know Seungkwan, he doesn’t say or do things he is not certain of and that made me wonder if Jeonghan had tried to contact me after that night and if he did, what did he want to say and how did he feel after being blocked by me” you said all in one breath and so fast that Lily almost laughed at you.

“Easy there, we have all day, no need to say things in one breath like that. Don’t want you passing out on me” she said, now laughing out loud.

“Sorry… So… Is it stupid?” you asked her again.

“Of course not. What you two shared… I know we never talked about it but I actually saw myself and Seungcheol a lot in you two but you know, in a completely dysfunctional and delusional way of pretending you didn’t love each other” she said as she laughed lowly and you sat down on your couch.

“Look… I don’t know what he wanted to say but I can confirm he has tried to contact you after that night. Several times actually. Seungcheol told me. I’m assuming he told Seungcheol, Seungkwan and probably Vernon and Shua. He knows they would be his best bet at convincing you to unblock him but none of them wanted to help, I guess. At least Seungcheol didn’t.” she said and you looked down.

“I know he fucked up. But… and don’t hate me for saying this… You did too. And I think you know that. Sure, he fucked up in a much more serious and permanent way but you two just kept hurting each other for years. It’s always been so complicated when it should’ve been easy.” she continued.

“I also know the Y/N I know is a very forgiving person and has always given people second chances. Not saying you should forgive him just like that. But maybe you can hear him out. He clearly wants to talk to you about it and you clearly miss him and want to know what he has to say. Just because you give him a chance to explain, does not mean you will forgive him and want him back in your life.”

She finished her speech and you looked at her with tears in your eyes.

“How long have you been holding that in?” you asked and laughed.

“6 whole months actually. Seungcheol kept stopping me from saying anything and he kept saying you were too angry. Not ready to hear it just yet” she said and was crying with you now.

You both looked insane. Crying and laughing at the same time, holding each others’ hands but this was exactly what you needed.

“I hate it when he’s right” you said and laughed.

“Oh, same. And he is always right. The boys were all on your side, you know? Always giving Jeonghan shit.” she added.

“I bet… Seungcheol told me that at the party too” you told her.

“So… Unblock him. Don’t tell anyone. I won’t either. And we’ll see if he tries to contact you again or not” she told you and moved to turn on the TV.

“To be fair, it’s been 6 months. Not sure he would keep trying for that long” you told her as you started to open some of the snacks and drinks.

“Don’t say that. I know for a fact he kept trying and hoping you had unblocked him so he’ll definitely try again” she said as she started helping you with the snacks.

You nodded and… Unblocked him. You did it. It felt weird. You wanted him to reach out but you were also scared of what he would say if he did. And, if you were being honest, you were still so angry at him for leaving you. So you’ll know that if you decide to hear him out, that first conversation is not going to be pretty no matter what he has to tell you.

The rest of the day went by fast. You talked and vented to Lily about everything. Just like you did with Jeonghan on that day. You had told her everything, you had cried together and laughed and after all of it, you just watched a few episodes of a show and before you knew it she had to leave.

You said your goodbyes and promised each other you would do this way more often.

You felt happy when she left. Lighter. You cleaned most things up and decided to go to bed early. You were feeling tired. You were feeling as if today you were finally going to get some real sleep. Lily was right. You needed this. You needed to vent and share your burden and now that you had, you felt relieved.

You wanted to take full advantage of this opportunity. You turned all your notifications off, did your nighttime beauty routine and went to sleep. You fell asleep so fast and you slept like a baby. At last.

Sunday morning you woke up so well rested and a bit confused from sleeping so much. You honestly don’t remember the last time you woke up after 11AM and it felt great. You stretched, yawned, opened your blinds and smiled.

Wow, you really did feel so much better after being and talking with Lily. It helped with some of the pain and she was right. You didn’t know if you would give Jeonghan a chance to explain himself yet but if you did, that did not mean that you were going to forgive him and that your lives would again intertwine.

After showering and cooking breakfast, you went to your dinner table facing your window to eat and you remembered you had turned off your notifications for the night so you went back to your room to pick up your phone and turn them back on.

You started eating and checking your notifications when you receive a notification you didn’t think you’d receive this soon.

It was a text from Jeonghan. Apparently sent late last night.

“I know I haven’t texted you since before the party. I didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry isn’t enough. I wanted to give you time but these weeks have been shitty. I’m miserable. I wish you could read my messages and see how much I’ve been suffering without you. I keep texting you pretending that you read them. How pathetic am I? Doesn’t matter. I’ll keep being pathetic until the day you give me a chance to explain everything. I miss you terribly, love”

You kept reading it over and over again. You didn’t know what to do. This is not something you can do over text. This also is starting to seem like a very bad idea at this moment. You know he probably saw the message was delivered, unlike his previous ones.

Jeonghan is very much feeling like you. Confused. Not quite sure what to do. Send another text? No. Not over text. Call you? Maybe it’s too soon, maybe he should wait to see if you reply at all and then try to call you. A voice message? Hmm, not ideal but it would give him a better platform to at least try to convince you to meet with him and let him explain everything.

A voice message it is. But it can’t be any voice message, he decided. He needed to write down everything he needed to say in this message. He needed to be clear and straight to the point. Just like you always have been.

After hours of writing points down and recording himself and hearing it back, he decided to just go for it. No matter what, it won’t be perfect. But it’s all he’s got. He has this chance and he can’t afford to waste it. He can’t afford you blocking him again and not being able to get his second chance.

You spent hours trying to avoid staring at your phone. You cleaned your whole apartment and decided to play some games to distract yourself. ‘You don’t have to respond. If he means it, he’ll reach out again. Be patient, Y/N’ you told yourself.

And sure enough, your phone dings a text notification. You’re so nervous. It’s just a text and you’re so nervous. You look down at your phone. It’s a voice message. No. You can’t hear his voice. Why does he know you so well?

You wanted to wait to open it. You really did. But you couldn’t. You reached down and listened to it.

“Hi, love… I… I don’t really know how to start. I can’t believe you unblocked me. And, don’t worry. I know this doesn’t mean that you’ll hear me out or forgive me but you know I have to try, right? Maybe you don’t. I know you’ve been feeling like you never mattered to me. Like you were never worthy of me. And it’s all my fault. In all these years, I’ve been so blind and I’ve hurt you so much. I wanted to beg you for a second chance but… This isn’t my second chance. It’s not even my third. I’ve hurt you more times than I can keep count and you have given me multiple chances to redeem myself and I always disappointed you. I kept asking myself, if I were you, would I forgive me? Would I give me another chance? How many chances are too many chances? How many times will you forgive me before I learn? Truth is, if I were you, I would be done. Completely. I’m sending you this on the very slim hope that you are better than me and that you will at least let me explain everything. Even if after you hear it, you won’t forgive me. Please… Let me explain myself. Meet with me, one last time, love.”

He was crying for most of his message. You could hear it and it was tearing you apart.

Part of you wanted to meet with him but the other part of you was still so mad. Could he just beg and cry and get away with everything? You deserve better than all of this, you know that now. You’re not sure what to do. You needed to weigh your options.

You sent him a simple text: “I don’t know. I’ll think about it. Please, don’t message me anymore. I’ll reach back out when I have an answer.”

He liked your message and added nothing else. Jeonghan knows you well and he knows to respect your boundaries, always.

You spent the next few days thinking it over. You kept remembering Lily’s words. Listening to him does not mean you will forgive him and it might even help you with closing this chapter in your life, if that’s the final choice you’ll make.

But somehow, every time you tried to message him and tell them that yes, you will hear him out, you couldn't pull that trigger. You were scared. You couldn’t pinpoint what was holding you back.

You decided to call Lily. She would help you, she would know what to say to help you through this.

She picked up after a few rings.

“Hey! How have you been? How’s the… situation we talked about Saturday?” she asked and you could hear some background noise and echo.

“Am I on speakerphone, Lil?” you asked back.

“Yes, I’m cooking dinner and Seungcheol answered it for me. Is this not a speakerphone conversation?” she asked you and you replied right away.

“Actually, if Cheolie is there and wants to give his input, I would appreciate it. I’m… confused? I don’t even know the right word to describe what I’m feeling right now…” you replied and you immediately got an answer from the other side of the phone.

“I’m here. Tell us” he said, straight to the point. You too had always had that in common. Cut through the bullshit and get to the point.

“Well, Saturday after me and Lily spoke, I decided to unblock Jeonghan. I just… Wanted to know if he tried to reach out and if he would again and he did. That same night actually. Long story short he sent me a text and a voice message begging me to meet up with him and let him at least explain. He said a lot of things… I don’t know how to feel about them? I told him I would think about it and I thought about it. A lot. I want to hear him out but every time I go to message him the fear and hurt resurfaces again and I just… Can’t… I mean… Does this mean I shouldn’t listen to him? I need help…” you said and waited for a response.

“You should hear him out” Seungcheol said simply.

You didn’t know what to say so he continued.

“What’s the worst that can happen? You fight? Good. You need to fight. You both need to tell each other everything you’ve been holding inside since you met. You need to scream at each other and understand how annoyingly frustrating you both are. And if after that fight you decide it’s not worth it, you’ve given him too many chances, then you’ll know and you’ll be able to finally get closure and truly move on. Let’s face it, Y/N. You won’t fully move on until you get your answers. All of them.”

“I really do hate it when you’re right…” you said and the three of you chucked.

“But I’m always right, Y/N. Meet up with him and come running here if you need to” he told you.

After you hung up with them, you decided you needed to rest. You had a migraine. Tomorrow will be a new day and tomorrow you’ll let him know.

The next morning you decided to call Jeonghan before starting work. You knew his schedule and you knew he would be up. You couldn’t do this through text and you won’t.

He picked up immediately.

“Hello, love. Good morning. Did you sleep well?” he sounded the same. Asked the same questions he used to before. It felt familiar and nice.

“Hi, Jeonghan. Good morning. Yes, I did, thank you. I hope you did too. Look, I’ve decided to hear you out. I don’t want to talk through the phone or in a public place. I have a feeling this conversation will be… difficult to say the least for the both of us. Can I come over after work this week or is the weekend better for you?” you asked him.

“Tonight. Come over tonight, please.” he said without any hesitation.

“Okay… Tonight it is. I’m working from home so I should be done at 6PM. I’ll be there by 7” you stated plainly.

“Okay, love. I’ll be waiting” he said and he sounded as if he were smiling. It made you want to smile as well but you didn’t.

“See you then, Jeonghan” you said and hung up.

You weren’t ready to see and speak to him but were you ever going to be?

Tonight, everything will be out in the open. Finally. You will both put all our cards on the table. No more secrets. No more hiding. And then, you can both decide how to move forward. Together or separate.

6PM comes quicker than you anticipated and it’s time to get ready and meet with him.

You got to his apartment and the nerves started kicking in. ‘You got this’ you told yourself right before you rang the doorbell.

He must have been right by the door because the door flew open almost right after you rang the doorbell.

“Hi, love. Come in, please” he said and gave you room to walk towards the living room. He sounded nervous. He looked nervous too. It made you feel good to know you weren’t alone in this.

You walked in the living room. It was clear he prepared for your arrival. The room smelled like the candle you loved and kept buying for him so he would always have it when you came over. The lights were dimmed and he had put music on in the background. He had water and snacks on the coffee table and your pictures together were still up and visible to anyone who walked in his house.

Fuck, you missed him so much. You want to stay strong but you are already feeling so weak.

You sat on the couch, turned your phone off and looked up at him with raised eyebrows, silently asking him ‘What are you waiting for?’.

He sat on the couch with you, turned his phone off and started speaking.

“I love you. And no, I don’t mean in a ‘best friends’ type of way. I’m in love with you. And yes, I am fully aware those are the exact same words you said to me 6 months ago. And you should know I’ve wanted to say these words back to you ever since that night. I’ve always loved you. Since the very beginning. I have been trying to figure out why I didn’t see it or why I kept telling myself that I didn’t love you like that but honestly, I don’t know why I did it. I know I’ve always been afraid to lose you. To have you look at me with disappointment in your eyes. But before that night, I told myself we were just friends and were always going to be just friends. I had convinced myself of that fact and I don’t understand why.” he said with tears in his eyes now.

“Fuck, I know what a cliché it is to only realize what I have in front of me once I lose it, trust me. But the night I left, I remember thinking how happy I had always been with you, around you, in your presence. How lost I was before you walked into my life and it all made so much fucking sense. You and I made sense.” he continued.

You were staring in his eyes and it was your turn now to turn your poker face on.

“Only after I met you did I set up all these rules about my dating life. No one was ever worthy of dating me simply because they weren’t you. I kept making these excuses… To myself, to everyone around me. But I was just too stupid to see that I was making these rules in hopes of finding someone like you. Because I’ve always known since I met you, Y/N, that I’m the one that is and never was worthy of being with you. But if there’s anything I have learned in all the years we’ve known each other is that there’s absolutely no one like you, not for me” he continued.

“I wanted you for so long that when I saw the chance of having you, I took it. No hesitation. I don’t regret that first night and never will. What I will regret is never having kissed you that night and the conversation that took place after it all happened. What I said, the way I acted. Like you were just another ‘fuck-buddy’. I will never forgive myself for that and I don’t expect you to either” he said as tears kept flowing down his face.

He never wavered and kept looking at you while he finished up his speech.

“I know I don’t deserve another chance. I don’t deserve forgiveness. But I still had to ask. I had to try. I love you and I am begging you to give me another chance. At everything. Being your best-friend, your lover, your partner. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me” and he was done.

The only sounds in the room were the sounds of you both crying. Why did he only decide to tell you all of this now? Why was life so unfair? You don’t know if this is enough. His words are beautiful but they always have been. You needed more. Much more.

And your anger starts winning over your forgiving side. You still have a lot to tell him before you even make a decision about this. He needs to hear how much he has hurt you.

“Am I just supposed to be moved by this and forget all these years? Forget all the words you’ve said to me, all the little comments and jokes you made about me not being your type and not even being close to what you wanted?” you asked him.

“You know me well, Yoon Jeonghan, which means you know my memory never fails me. I remember every single cruel thing you said and smirked about. I remember the restaurant you never took me to no matter how many times I begged you to because ‘That is way too romantic for us, love’. And you want me to believe that after you’ve said all of these things you went home and felt bad about it?” you were getting angrier and angrier.

“You don’t love me. And you didn’t love me back then either. You love the way I make you feel. You love how desperate and pathetic I am and always have been for you. You love that I worship the ground you walk on. You love the feeling of having someone willing to do anything for you, willing to sacrifice their own beliefs and self-esteem to get even a small portion of your attention. You love having someone beg you to take them out, begging you to see them. You love all of these things and anytime someone gave that to you, you stayed” you were getting harsher now.

“That’s how you found your ‘fuck-buddies’. You always chose the most desperate ones because you always loved the way it made you feel about yourself. That’s why you kept me around. You kept all of us around for different feelings. We were all desperate for you, yes. But their job was to keep you satisfied sexually, while mine was purely emotional. It wasn’t love. Not for them and not for me.”

You said and started getting up from the couch and collecting your things.

“I was never different from them. Not in the core of the matter. In the end, we all got hurt and you always left, unburdened and ready for your next fling to satisfy your ego” you said as you began to walk towards the apartment door.

You looked over your shoulder and told him: “I don’t know if I can forgive you. I know I don’t believe you. I wish I did. I really do. But my memories of every little thing you did over the years that hurt me are keeping me from letting go. I’m glad we both got to say what we always needed to say to each other. I’m not sure we’ll see each other again, but if we don’t, we can at least have closure now. Goodbye, Jeonghan.”

You got home that night and you were just… Numb. You couldn’t cry anymore. You didn’t want to scream. You just sat on your couch, staring at your wall, not knowing what to do and how to move on from this. From him.

You fell asleep on your couch that night and woke up the next day feeling even worse.

You reached out to both Lily and Seungcheol and they were very supportive but they also made sure you knew they weren’t going to advise you any further. The next decision was entirely up to you.

The next week went by so slowly. You still felt like shit and it seemed to only get worse each day.

It may sound stupid but you missed him. You had just seen him. You had a bad fight. Yet, you missed him.

You went to your closet and took out the box of pictures you had hidden there. You started looking over each one of them. All of them were attached to such great memories. Memories of days together, nights together, vacations together. You were always smiling brightly. You remember all those feelings. Everything he had made you feel when you were together.

You started to regret some of the things you said last time you saw him. He cared for you deeply. You could tell from the pictures and from all the good memories you had. He always protected you and made sure you felt safe and warm. Your friendship was nothing like the flings he had. You went too far. You wanted to hurt him but you weren’t fair in your accusations.

You’re pretty sure that’s why you feel like shit. You thought saying these things to him and hurting him would make you feel better. It would leave you satisfied knowing he was hurting like you did all those times. But it didn’t. It made you feel so much worse than before.

You fucked up and now it was your turn to fix it. You knew if you went back there, it would mean you would forgive him. Were you ready for that? Was that what you wanted?

You dropped the pictures, grabbed your keys and left.

You were standing in front of his door wondering if you should ring the doorbell. He might be busy. He might not even be home. You didn’t even know what you were going to say. Fuck, this was a terrible idea. You need to leave. Now. Go home. Regroup and come back with a plan.

The door opened and a tired Jeonghan was staring at you, blinking in confusion with his jacket halfway on his body.

“Hmm… Hi… I wanted to talk to you. I should’ve called or texted before. Sorry. I should leave. Sorry” you were shaking and started to leave but he grabbed your elbow and stopped you from moving.

“No. Stay. I’m not busy. Talk to me. Please” he asked you.

“You were leaving though… I feel bad… I--”

“I was out of whiskey. Was going to buy more. It doesn’t matter. Stay. Come in. Talk. Please, love” he interrupted you and he never let go of your arm.

“O..Okay. Yeah. Okay” you nodded and went inside his apartment.

He took off both his jacket and shoes and you did the same. You looked around. The house was messy. Very unusual. Jeonghan was a creature of habits and he hated messiness. This was your fault.

You decided to be blunt again.

“Did you mean it? What you said last week? All of it?” you asked him nervously.

“Yes. Every word. I know it’s hard to believe but I meant every fucking word” he responded just as bluntly.

“What about Haneul? You brought her around the boys… To the party…”

You hated that you asked but you had to know everything before giving him a permanent answer.

“She invited herself. Pretty much blindsided me into joining us. She’s been following me around the company. I’ve made myself very clear. I’m not available and it will never happen but she wasn’t backing down. I’ve been really tired. Exhausted, after losing you. I had no strength left in me to fight her. I would just ignore her until she gets the message. Not my finest moment but I couldn’t care less” he said plainly.

You nodded and started getting really nervous. You gulped and asked him your final question.

“I was an asshole last week. I’m sorry. I said a lot of things that weren’t fair. I wanted to hurt you. I regret most of it. After all I said, do you still want me? Want us? Want to spend the rest of your life making it up to me?”

“That’s all I want. I want all of it. I deserved your words. I deserved to be hurt. I should be the one apologizing. But fuck yeah. If you give me that chance, this last chance, I will never let you go again” he said as he walked closer to you until he was so close you could feel his breath on your lips.

You looked up at him.

“Deal. I want to forgive you. I want to move forward with you. With us. But I have a few rules…”

He looked in your eyes and started to smirk. You were giving him a taste of his own medicine. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy but he would do everything to earn you back.

You moved away from him and started to put your shoes and jacket on, getting ready to leave.

“No sex. Not in the beginning. I want romance. Lots of dates. We have similar tastes and you know me better than anyone. Choose wisely” he laughed and nodded along.

“Kissing is very much allowed and encouraged. This is obviously an exclusive relationship and I am to be called and to be treated as your girlfriend, always” he kept smiling and was starting to tear up. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

“Anything else, princess?” he asked.

“No princess. I like baby much better. Or angel. Other than that, no other rules. For now” you answered him. And before you left, you walked towards him, intertwined your hands and asked him sincerely:

“I missed you, Hannie. Don’t make me regret this, okay?”

“Never, baby. You’re mine now. I missed you so much, too. Let me take you out tomorrow, yeah? First date?” he asked back.

“I can’t tomorrow. Friday I’m free. Pick me up after work?”

“I’ll be there, baby” he said and you turned to leave.

Right before you left he told you “I’ll be texting you. Don’t ignore your boyfriend, baby. He’s very needy”

You laughed as you nodded and left his apartment.

You got home that night and you couldn’t sleep. You were so happy. Is this even real? This wasn’t a dream, right? And as you were having these thoughts, Jeonghan texted you just as he promised right before you left his apartment.

Next thing you knew, a month flew by. Your first month together as a couple.

So far he’s kept all his promises. He was the one worshiping you now. He always texted or called to make sure you were safe and happy. He took you out on multiple dates a week and always made you feel like you were the only two people in the whole world.

On your first date he took you to the restaurant down the street from his place that you always wanted to go. You had a feeling he was going to pick that place and you made fun of him for it but he kept saying ‘I told you, baby. From now on, I will do everything to earn your forgiveness and love. Clichés and all’.

After your first date, he took you home and kissed you so gently by the door.

You never thought you would feel this way. You felt complete. The happiest you had ever been.

During this month together, he never made any additional moves on you.

You had kissed. A lot.

Made out like teenagers. A lot.

But he always stopped it and ended your date there.

You knew you asked for this in the beginning as one of your rules but you couldn’t take it anymore.

You needed him. You knew you had to be the one to make the move or show that you are ready. Otherwise, he will keep respecting your boundaries no matter how hard you want him to disrespect them.

Today you met up with Lily for lunch. The guys and Lily had barely seen the two of you. You only had time and eyes for each other and everyone was letting you two enjoy this new relationship without any interruptions.

“You are glowing, you know that, Y/N?” she asked as she ate.

You laughed and told her “I’m just so fucking happy. I never thought this would happen. He’s been so amazing. And it doesn’t feel different. I mean, our friendship. We’re still infuriating with each other but now we just have the added benefit of kissing to shut each other up.”

“And fucking” she said loudly and you hushed her while you two giggled.

“We’re in public, asshole. And about the fucking…” you said.

“Nothing yet? I gotta give it to him. Never thought he would be able to last this long without making a move. Good for him” she said and kept giggling.

“Good for him? I am dying here, woman. I’ve tried everything. All my moves, all the signs and he just won’t do anything” you whispered.

“It’s your fault. You made it a ‘rule’. You should know that not only would he take this seriously, but he would also use this to torture you for as long as he could. Possibly until you begged him to fuck you” she said again way too loudly in this very public restaurant.

You looked around after shushing her and you realized what she just said. Oh my god. He’s doing this on purpose. Of course. You should’ve known better. You gave him a challenge and he was punishing you for it, the little shit.

“I love that you are only realizing this now” she said and kept laughing.

“Shut up and finish your food” you bit back at her.

You had a date tonight with Jeonghan. You had offered to cook for the both of you. More of an intimate date. And you were going in for the kill tonight. You were done waiting but you were also going to have some fun with him.

You had this pink dress in your closet that you bought almost a year ago. You were saving it for a really good date or so you kept telling everyone. And we’re here now.

Pink is not your usual pick but this dress is a killer. And an added bonus: Jeonghan loves seeing you in pink. This dress is just short enough. Obscene cleavage. A bit corseted. Enough to let your natural curves speak for themselves.

Underneath the dress, the smallest thong was covering your pussy and of course, no bra.

You had covered your body in the watermelon body lotion he loved smelling on you. Very little makeup and hair down. Just how he liked it on you.

Everything was ready and waiting for him. Food was ready and in the oven. You had set the mood with the candles, lighting and music in the living room and dining room and your bedroom was certainly refreshed and ready to greet him.

When you opened the door and he had the chance to see you. You knew you made all the right choices tonight. He stared you up and down and gulped.

“Like what you see, Hannie?” you asked and walked away from him towards your kitchen.

He came up behind you before you could reach the kitchen counter, turned you around and kissed you. Deeply. Full of passion. Until you were both out of breath. He started touching the bottom part of your dress with his fingertips very lightly.

“‘You look absolutely gorgeous tonight, baby. Why haven’t I seen this dress before?” he asked.

“Well… You weren’t exactly the best boy to me for a while. But now… Now you deserve to see it. All for yourself, too” you said, still panting and recovering from the kiss.

And in a very Jeonghan fashion, he completely surprises you with his next question.

“Has anyone else seen you in this dress, baby? On a date? Who have you worn this for before me, hmm?”

You smiled and whispered in his ear: “No one else but you.”

He almost growled at you and started leaning in again to kiss you. He had that look in his eyes you knew all too well and you moved away from him.

“We should eat. Food is getting cold, Hannie” you said and moved towards the oven.

He stared and narrowed his eyes at you but he knew what you were playing at. He knew you too well. Let’s see who has the most self-control tonight, then.

You had a great meal. He complimented your cooking as usual and kept holding your hand every time he saw the opportunity to.

Everything was perfect.

You two started cleaning up after eating and you kept talking about everything that was going on in your lives.

Everything was always so easy between the two of you.

You both sat on the couch and decided to watch a movie together. He was very touchy during the whole movie. His hand was moving higher and higher up your thigh and every time he moved it higher, he sighed, almost moaned.

You were so fucking wet and he had barely done anything. Tonight had to be the night, right? ‘He wasn’t that evil’ you thought.

When the movie ended and his hand was almost completely underneath your dress, he moved closer to you, leaned in, held your chin in his hands and started to whisper against your lips.

“I should go, it’s getting late”

He laughed after watching the disappointment in your eyes, got up and started getting ready to leave.

You also got up and grabbed his jacket to stop him.

“You can’t leave yet” you said shakily.

He hummed.

“Why’s that, baby? Something you want from me?” he asked as he walked back over to you.

Okay, you can say it. It’s fine. Just ask him. Tell him, do anything.

“Ugh… Nevermind. Just… Drive safe, I guess” and you tried handing his jacket back to him.

He licked his lips, ripped the jacket from your hands, threw it on the couch and started walking you backwards towards the living room wall.

Once you were backed up against the wall, he placed both hands on each side of your head.

“Is it so hard to ask to get fucked, hmm? Not like you haven’t done it before. What’s with the pride, baby?” he asked.

You stared at him with uneven breaths but stayed silent.

“You know me, baby. Either ask me what I want to hear or I’ll leave you here against this wall in your probably very small and very wet panties” he said and started kissing down your neck.

“Stay. Fuck me” you said hurrily and barely in a whisper.

“You have to do better than that, baby. Ask me nicely since you’ve been a tease all fucking night” he said and now one of his hands was on your thigh, rubbing circles.

“Please, fuck me, Hannie. Please. I can’t wait anymore. You’re driving me crazy” you begged and he must have liked it because you felt him chuckle against your skin.

He pulled your dress up and slapped your clothed pussy. You moaned.

“Now that wasn’t so hard was it? You’ve wanted me to fuck you for a while now. Was wondering when you were going to start acting like a greedy little slut. My greedy little slut” he told you while he cupped your pussy.

“Hannie…” you moaned.

He moved away from you and started walking to your bedroom. You followed him. He sat on your bed and started unbuttoning his shirt while licking his lips and staring at you.

You stood in front of him.

“Take it all off, baby and come sit on my face” he told you.

You were nervous. You hadn’t done this before. Not with him. But you were also excited.

You took it all off, just as he asked and you started moving closer. He layed back on the bed and beckoned you to join him.

You did. You laid on top of him completely naked and you started kissing each other. His hands were everywhere. You couldn’t get enough of him.

He stopped kissing you and started moving up on the bed to straddle his head and he dove right in. No hesitation. No words. No more waiting. He was eating you out like a starved man. You were holding on to the top of your bed and his hair.

He was being sloppy and loud and moving up and down between your clit and your hole. He spanked you hard and moved one of his hands to your folds. He started fingering you using two fingers while sucking hard on your clit.

You were so fucking close already. This was fucking embarrasing. You start shaking and moving away from his mouth and he spanks you again.

“Don’t fucking move away from me again. Don’t you dare. Don’t be embarrassed and cum. Let go. Cum” he told you then while pushing your hips back down on his mouth.

And as soon as he pushed you back down and continued his movements, you started falling apart and moaning his name so fucking loud.

He didn’t stop then. He kept going.

“Hmm… Sensitive… Can’t… Hannie…” you whined.

“Shhh baby, you can give me more. I know you can. Fucking give it to me. I’m fucking greedy” he started fingering you again, slower this time and started marking your thighs with his mouth until he saw purple marks all over your inner thighs.

You kept moaning and whining and you were getting louder and impatient. He laughed and moved back on your clit.

This time he added a third finger and kept sucking on your clit. It was a mess, you were sure of it. His face, his fingers. You had never felt this wet and this sloppy before and you were getting closer and closer.

With his free hand, he cupped your breast and twisted your nippled between his fingers and you came again with a cry of his name.

You started slumping on the bed while you were still panting and he moved you off of him and laid you on your back.

He started kissing down your neck and taking his clothes off.

When he was fully naked and on top of you, you grabbed his face with both of your hands and you looked in his eyes. You wanted to know what he was thinking. How he was feeling.

“I love you, baby. So fucking much. Let me have you now, yeah?” he asked as he looked into your eyes. Almost as if he knew that you needed that, you needed to hear him say it.

You kissed him again and tangled your hand in his hair.

You both gasped when he started pushing into you and you both moaned when he bottomed out completely.

“Fuck, I missed you so fucking much. This pussy was made for me. I might not last long, baby. It’s been too long since I had you” he whispered in your ear.

“Hmmm, what about since your other ‘fuck-buddies’? How long ago was that?” you asked and he stared in your eyes and got very serious. You hated that you asked it but you need to know the answer.

“I haven’t been with anyone else after you. I thought that was obvious, baby. I want you. I spent all these months wanting you. No one else” he said and started kissing you again.

You stopped kissing him and asked him to start moving and he did.

He held your hips in place with one hand and with the other he intertwined your fingers together and he started pounding into you. No mercy. He was desperate for you and you for him.

“Fuck, Hannie… So good… Feels so fucking good… Don’t stop, please…”

He grunted in response and kept pounding into you.

You were getting closer again and he felt it so he moved the hand that was holding yours to push down on your stomach and kept pounding you hard into the mattress.

“You’re so close aren’t you, baby? I can fucking feel it. You’re squeezing me so hard, baby. Fuck… Let go. Let me feel you”

He leaned his forehead against yours and you came again. This is the loudest you have probably been. You feel shy all of a sudden but you can’t say anything coherent. You’re mostly babbling at this point and he starts laughing at you.

“Don’t tell me I fucked you stupid, baby. Use your words properly, you’re a big girl”

“Hannie… s’good…”

He kept laughing and kissing you and he leaned back to move one of your legs and place it on his shoulder.

He was now squeezing your thigh of the leg on his shoulder with one hand and grabbing your tits with his other hand and he started slowly thrusting into you. So you could feel every vein and every ridge on his cock moving inside of you. This felt like torture but you knew he was delaying his orgasm as much as he could.

“Look at you… My angel… You’re so gorgeous like this under me… Fuck, I’m never letting you go. My good girl… Hmm? Are you my good girl, baby? Answer me”

You started nodding.

“Yes… Yeah… Yours.. Good… Good girl…”

It was your turn now to surprise him. You grabbed his hand that was on your tits and moved it to your neck.

“Fuck, baby… Want me to choke you? Can’t have anything nice, can we? Calling you my good girl and you start acting like a greedy little slut again”

He chuckled and started thrusting into you with much more force and speed. The hand on your neck started squeezing lightly and you started whining and feeling closer and closer to the edge again.

“Gonna cum one last time, hmm? With my hand around your throat like a slut? Yeah… Fuck yeah… Cum with me then, angel”

He leaned down to kiss you and you started cumming again. This time your vision turned white. You thought you were dreaming. This felt surreal.

You kept repeating his name over and over again and when you said ‘I love you’, he finally came inside you with a grunt and a low moan in your ear.

He laid down on top of you as you both recovered and he kept playing with your hair and calling your name.

“Baby… You okay? Was that too much? Come back to me, don’t fall asleep yet, we need to clean up”

You laid with your eyes closed and hummed.

“I’m here, Hannie. Just… Give me a few minutes… I think you broke me” you said and you both started laughing.

“Good broken though?” he asked.

“Fucking amazing broken” you answered and you kept laughing together.

After a few more minutes of laying together in pure bliss, he convinced you to get up and take a shower with him.

He had to hold you up for most of it. You were so tired. He kept poking fun at you and all you could mumble was ‘your fault’ and he started chuckling.

You shared a bed for the first time as a couple that night. You remember feeling like this was supposed to have been happening since the very beginning of your friendship.

You knew you wanted to have him with you here for the rest of your life and all you could do was hope he meant every word he said and that he would want the same with you. It was the best sleep of your life that night.

You woke up the next morning to the sounds of Jeonghan singing to the music he was playing and what sounded like cooking.

Fuck, you were starving. But first, you had to make yourself look presentable. He always looked so good in the morning and you… Well.., you had more of a rough appearance in the morning so you needed a moment to collect yourself before following the sound of his beautiful voice.

You went to the bathroom to do your morning routine and afterwards you joined him in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Hannie. What are you cooking, baby?” you said as you hugged him from behind.

“Hmm… Morning, angel. Just some eggs and sausage. You didn’t have much more”

“Sounds delicious, thank you” you said as you moved to sit on the kitchen counter behind him.

“We have to replace all those photos, baby” he said as he turned around to look at you.

You knew he meant the pictures you had ripped apart and put back together after your falling out.

“I don’t want to. I like them this way. It tells our story. It’s a little broken but in the end it got put back together” you said and smiled at him.

He smiled and turned back to the stove.

“You just want to get our kids on your side and have me as the bad guy, huh?” he asked and you chucked.

“Kids? Getting a bit ahead of ourselves, no? Let’s not make promises we can’t keep. We both have done enough of those” you said and he nodded and laughed.

You felt so happy when he said that but you didn’t want to sound too eager. You knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him but you still were scared that he would regret this eventually and leave you again.

What you didn’t know was that this time, he wasn’t going to let you go anywhere, and he was never going anywhere without you.

He was going to spend the rest of his life by your side, earning back every once of trust and love he lost from you before.

He was okay with you still being guarded. He knew you had nothing to worry about and he would prove it to you. Soon enough he will take out the engagement ring he bought after your first date and he will make sure you stay by each others’ side always.

The ultimate pinky promise.

It’s here guys and it’s a monster 😭 I really hope it lives up to your expectations. I’m still nervous about everything I write! Please let me know in the comments and such if you liked it 💕 Thank you for supporting me! CHEERS 🥂

Taglist (if you requested specifically): @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @lannadray @cvixmei @feat-sun @cvpidxo @yunjinified @shuahasmyheartffs @jjjzzz @starlight-night0 @rendeciu @momoxxchewz @miniseokminnies @meowmeowminnie @sofix-hc7 @aaniag @shinetogether17 @goodforgyu @sharkipoonis

#jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #seventeen smut #jeonghan #jeonghan fic #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan x you #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #yoon jeonghan fic #vee's writings

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thewinterdrafts · 3 months ago

Text

Where the Wild Things Heal | The White Wolf

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (1st Person)

Word Count: 8,315

Summary: Bucky Barnes is free of the trigger words—but not of his past. One night, when a nightmare fractures his mind, pulling him back into the Winter Soldier, you fight to bring him home. Armed with nothing but a whispered phrase—a line you’ve woven into your happiest moments—you reach for him in the darkness, hoping he’ll remember. Hoping he’ll choose to come back to you.

Warnings: Violence & Physical Harm, Panic Attack & PTSD Symptoms, Mental & Emotional Trauma, Dark Themes of Identity & Control, Implied Past Trauma - but you also get to laugh a lil

A/N: this was NOT meant to be this long, but I got carried away because they were just so precious 🤍 hope you like it, happy reading!!

📍Masterlist

Thump. Crack. Scream.

I am ripped from my deep sleep so violently that the world tilts, my vision whiting out as I jolt upright. My breath catches, heart slamming against my ribs like it’s trying to escape. The sheets are damp beneath my palms, my skin slick with cold sweat. And then I notice—the bed beside me is empty.

Bucky is gone.

I quicly look at the red digits on my nightstand— 2:38 am. What's going on? My breath catches as I shove the blankets aside, my feet hitting the cold floor with a quiet thud. I can't help but notice how the air feels thick, charged, like a storm is about to break.

Then I hear another crash. A heavy thump, followed by the wet, splintering crack of wood breaking apart.

It's coming from the living room.

I push myself forward, my legs unsteady, forcing me to grasp the bedroom wall for support. The cotton of my sleep shirt clings to me like a second skin, drenched in cold sweat, almost suffocating me. My heart races as I step into the hallway, where shadows stretch jagged, elongated by the flickering glow of the streetlights outside.

I hear a sound of breathing. Not mine. Barely human.

It’s harsh, like an animal just let out of a cage. The unmistakable grind of metal against wood scrapes through the silence, followed by the low snarl that makes my stomach clench. Please don't let this be what I think it is.

I take a deep, wobbly breath, but my lungs feel too tight, too small. My fingers grip the doorframe for stability as I turn, and—Oh my God.

The living room is wrecked—no, annihilated.

The coffee table split clean in half, the jagged wood reaching up like broken ribs. The bookshelf, gone, its contents strewn and shredded all over the floor. One of the kitchen chairs lies in pieces, crushed into the floor like it said something offensive.

And in the center of it all—Bucky.

He’s barefoot, shirtless, standing among the wreckage like a fallen god in the aftermath of his own storm. His chest is heaving, his vibranium arm locked in a deadly grip around the remains of a chair leg. His flesh hand is shaking violently, fingers twitching like they don’t know whether to grab or destroy.

There’s blood on his knuckles. I don’t know if it’s his. And I don't know if it's not his, then whose it is. Deep concern runs through me before I open my mouth to call his name, but then he moves.

His back muscles flex, every inch of him wound tight, ready to detonate. His breathing is so sharp and frantic, it's a miracle he doesn't pass out. And when he turns—slowly, painfully—I almost throw up my heart.

This is not my Bucky. This is the Winter Soldier.

This can't be. Sheer terror floods my body. For one, razor-sharp second, silence hangs between us—then, with the speed of light, he lunges.

I don't even have time to scream.

A wall of muscle and rage crashes into me, knocking the air from my lungs before I can react. Cold metal and burning skin collide against me as we slam into the couch—my back hitting the cushions so hard my vision goes white.

His hand, his vibranium hand, clamps around my throat—hard.

I gasp and choke as I try digging my nails into his wrist, like it could leave a mark on the vibranium, but his grip doesn’t budge. A burning pressure spreads through my neck, crushing and suffocating, cutting off every desperate gulp of air before it reaches my lungs. The vice around my windpipe tightens, a crushing force, pressing harder and harder—so brutally, that black spots bloom at the edges of my vision.

I try to kick out, my legs thrashing everywhere, searching for leverage beneath his weight, but it’s useless. He’s too heavy and inhumanely strong.

I force my eyes open, even if they sting with hot tears I don’t remember shedding. My body shakes violently beneath him, the lack of air barely keeping me contious, and still, all the physical pain cannot compare to the sight of him.

A single, heart-wrenching sob breaks free from my strangled throat, because the eyes that meet me are unrecognizable. His usual warm, blue eyes—the ones that have looked at me with so much adoration, with quiet, aching tenderness—are completely gone. What’s left is empty. Colder than the surface of Antarctica.

His face is void of emotion and somehow that makes all this so much worse. There is no rage, no cruelty, no satisfaction. No sign of the man who once held me like I was something breakable. There is only precision, like a weapon, a killing machine.

I let out a shuddering, gasping sob, my fingers still scratching, trembling, and begging against his grip—all for nothing.

But I’ve been warned that this could happen. That one day, the past would sink its claws into him, drag him under, erase the man I love. And now, I am seconds away from being his next casualty.

I have to bring him back before he kills me.

Before he lives with the weight of it.

Six months ago - Wakanda

The library hums with the bright, bubbling laughter of children as we gather for our daily reading. Out of all the moments I cherish as a teacher, this is my favorite. Watching their curious eyes light up, their minds painting the story, like a movie only they can see. Nothing compares to it.

"Alright, what should we read today?" I glance around, expecting eager suggestions, but instead, I’m met with a chorus of scattered chatter and shrugged shoulders.

I smile gently. "No ideas? Looks like I get to choose, then."

That’s when the smallest girl in the class steps forward, clutching a book I don’t recognize. It’s worn, faded with time, its cover barely holding together—a testament to how well-loved it must have been. Gently, I take it from her, my fingers brushing over the fragile, crumbling edges. The title is impossible to read; the cover is too far gone, lost to years of eager hands and turned pages. I flip through the first few pages, searching—and then I find it.

"The Hobbit?" I echo, blinking in surprise as I glance at the worn pages. I hesitate for a moment, unsure if it’s too complex for a group of ten-year-olds. "Well... this one’s a little more challenging than what we’ve read before. But if you all want to give it a try, I’m happy to!"

"What’s it about?" one of the boys pipes up.

I pause, tapping my fingers lightly against the book, thinking of the best way to explain it. How do I sum up dragons, wizards, and an adventure of a lifetime in a way they’ll love?

"Alright, picture this: There’s a tiny guy named Bilbo, who just wants to stay home, eat snacks, and live a peaceful life—"

"Same," one of the kids mumbles, making a few others giggle.

I chuckle. "Yeah, well, tough luck for him, because a wizard shows up at his door like, ‘Surprise! You’re going on an adventure!’ And before he can say no, BOOM—now he’s running from trolls, fighting giant spiders, and stealing treasure from a dragon that could literally barbecue him in two seconds."

A few gasps and wide-eyed stares fill the room. Smiling, I lean in, lowering my voice for dramatic effect.

"Oh, and somewhere along the way, he picks up a weird little magic ring… that may or may not be extremely cursed."

"Whoaaa," they gasp in surprise.

I grin. "So, what do you guys think? Wanna see if our tiny hobbit friend actually survives this mess?"

"Yes!" They exclaim as a collective.

I look at them like a proud mom, warmth filling my chest as they settle in, eager and excited. Just as I part my lips to begin reading, a shadow moves in the doorway.

My breath catches. For a split second, I see him—tall, silent, barely standing there, like he doesn't want to be seen. I blink once, twice, and by the time my eyes refocus, he’s gone. I shake my head, exhaling softly, pushing the strange unease away.

I must have imagined it.

"So, where was I?" I smile as I carefully put my finger to where the story begins. "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit."

Before I know it, we are on page 63. My throat is aching, but the kids have been hanging onto every word, eyes wide with curiosity. Their quiet, eager faces have left me with no choice but to keep going.

I’m just about to turn the page when the door swings open, shattering the silence, pulling everyone out of their deep concentration. A few kids jump, some snap their heads toward the entrance, and there she is—Shuri.

She stands in the doorway, hands on her hips, with an expression so sharp it could cut through the book in my hands. But I know better. She’s just putting on a show.

"Oh, good. You’re all alive." She nods. "Your parents were about to put up missing child posters."

The kids freeze. Hell, I freeze.

Shuri tilts her head, eyes twinkling with mischief. "What? You think I’m joking?" She pulls out her Kimoyo beads and taps on them. "Go on. Call your mom. Let her know you still exist."

One of the girls shoots up from her chair, searching for the nearest clock. "WAIT, WHAT TIME IS IT?!"

Shuri snorts. "The time where you go home before I have to adopt all of you."

The moment the words leave Shuri’s mouth, pure, unfiltered panic erupts.

"Oh, no, my mom’s gonna kill me!" One of the boys yelps, shoving his notebook into his backpack so fast it nearly rips.

"I thought it was, like, four o’clock!" A girl gasps, grabbing her shoes from under the table. Why her shoes were off is beyond me.

Chairs scrape against the floor, papers fly, and in a matter of seconds, my once captive audience is now a stampede of frantic children, rushing for the door like their lives depend on it.

"Bye, Miss!" "See you tomorrow!" "Thanks for the story!" Their voices overlap in hurried goodbyes as they dash past Shuri, who barely moves, watching them go with an amused smirk.

Once the last kid bolts out, I slump back in my chair, exhaling a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

Shuri raises a brow. "What the hell do you feed these kids? I’ve never seen a group of ten-year-olds sit still that long. Are you drugging them?"

I playfully roll my eyes, reaching for my water bottle. "It’s called storytelling, Shuri. You should try it sometime."

She hums, unconvinced, stepping further into the library. "Mm-hmm. Sure. Either that, or you’re a witch."

Shuri walks over to the table, and that’s when her eyes land on the book. She freezes immediately, her teasing smirk fading, brows knitting together.

"Wait."

I glance up at her, mid-sip. "What?"

She points to the battered, old copy of The Hobbit. "Where did you get this?"

I frown. "One of the kids picked it out today. Someone might have left it around somewhere. Why?"

Shuri doesn’t answer immediately. She just stares at it, like it’s something impossible. Then, slowly, she reaches out and flips through the pages, her fingers barely touching the fragile edges. When she finally speaks, her voice is much lower.

"This belongs to the White Wolf."

The second I hear that name, my entire body tenses.

Everyone in Wakanda knows about the White Wolf. It's the name spoken in whispers, in tones of both respect and caution. The name I’ve heard a hundred times, but never thought would have anything to do with me. Not until now.

"He’s never let anyone touch this book before," she continues, but I can barely hear her over the loud, erratic thumps of my own heartbeat. "It’s not just a book to him. It’s his anchor."

I blink. "What do you mean?"

Shuri sighs, closing the book gently. "Bucky doesn’t talk about his past. Not much, anyway. But I’ve seen him with this. When he first came here, when he was still healing, still afraid of his own mind, I’d find him reading it, over and over. Like he was trying to remember something. Or trying not to forget."

She taps a finger against the faded cover. "This is the only thing he brought with him when he left the outside world behind. It’s been on his shelf for years. And I have never, ever seen him let it out of his sight."

I glance down at the book, the pages worn from years of being held, flipped through, read in silence.

Then the realization hits me like a brick—the shadowy figure I saw earlier, standing in the doorway, silent, unmoving. Watching. Listening.

It was him. Bucky was there. And for some reason, he left his most treasured possession behind, in my hands.

"Oh, Shuri..." I say, my voice coming out all wobbly, thick with something I can’t name. "I didn't know, I swear. I never would've touched it if I did."

I swallow, staring down at the worn cover, running my fingers along the fragile edges. The poor man has been through so much, and here I am, taking away the one last thing he cherishes. The guilt sinks deep, clawing its way under my skin.

"Where is he?" I ask before I can stop myself.

Shuri raises a brow. "You’re serious?"

I glance up at her, feeling the weight of the book in my hands. It’s heavy in a way it wasn’t before. "I need to give it back."

She hesitates. "No one just... visits him."

I know. Everyone knows.

The White Wolf is left alone. By choice, by necessity—maybe both. No one wanders too close to his little cottage at the edge of the Wakandan landscape.

No one risks disturbing him because no one is stupid enough to try.

Except, apparently, me.

Shuri watches me carefully, as if she's waiting for me to take back my words, to laugh it off, to come to my senses. But when I don’t, she lets out a low whistle. "Damn. You really feel bad, huh?"

I nod, throat tight. "He left it here, Shuri. He was listening, and then he left it." I exhale, trying to steady my nerves. "I don’t know why, but... I just can’t keep it. I have to bring it back."

Shuri huffs a laugh, shaking her head. "Well, if you get mauled by a super-soldier, don’t say I didn’t warn you."

That doesn’t help. Like, at all.

I curse the gods—every single one of them—as my feet carry me toward my inevitable doom.

Why did I take this job? Why did I thik it was a good idea to move here, to teach English to Wakandan children, when I could’ve stayed on my ass in Brooklyn, sipping overpriced lattes and minding my business? But no, no. I just had to be adventurous. I just had to do something meaningful. And now, because of some ancient, battered book, I’m marching toward the White Wolf’s isolated den like I have a death wish.

I can already imagine it—he rips the book out of my hands, glares at me with cold, unforgiving eyes, and then... what? Kicks me out? Snaps at me? Growls?

I shudder.

God, what if he’s actually terrifying? What if he doesn’t say anything at all, just stares at me until I crumble under the sheer weight of his presence? Or worse—what if he doesn’t even acknowledge me? That thought somehow feels worse than all the others.

By the time I reach the edge of the village, the Wakandan landscape stretching wide and open, the small cabin finally comes into view. My stomach lurches.

This is it. My last day on Earth. At least I get to go out somewhere beautiful.

I hesitate, standing in front of the small gate that separates his quiet solitude from the rest of the world. I swallow hard, shifting the book between my sweaty palms. I should turn back. I should leave it on the porch and run to the North Pole. But before I can even think about retreating, the door swings open.

My breath traps in my throat. For a split second, I think he must have heard me coming, that he knew I was here, standing outside like an idiot, clutching his book like some kind of offering.

But then, he steps out and stops dead in his tracks. Not because of anything I’ve done, but because he wasn’t expecting me. Or anyone, for that matter.

His eyes lock onto mine, and all my rational thoughts suddenly perish from my mind.

His long hair is tousled, falling just past his jawline, catching the light in a way that makes it look almost golden at the edges. His sharp features—cheekbones cut from marble, a mouth made for sin, a jawline that could kill a person on impact—should make him look unapproachable; dangerous, even. But he's so far from that. His soft, piercing, ridiculously blue eyes aren’t cold like I thought they’d be—they’re just quiet. Unreadable. And so, so warm.

I swallow to relieve the dryness in my throat.

My dear God. He is excruciatingly beautiful.

"H—Hi," I stutter, and I already feel like an idiot. "I—I, uh—" My throat closes up as I realize that holy shit, I never planned what to say. I came all this way, marched straight into the depths of no-man’s-land, and I didn’t even think about what the hell I was going to say when I got here. "I have your book."

He's just standing there, not moving an inch, while I'm making the biggest fool of myself. His mouth quirks at the corner; the smallest, faintest hint of a smirk—like he’s amused.

I want to die.

"You came all this way... to bring it back?"

His voice is low and steady, a bit rough around the edges. I'm sure he hasn’t used it in a while.

I nod too fast. "I—I didn’t know it was yours," I blurt out. "Shuri told me after the kids left, and I just—I felt bad. I mean, it’s important to you, and I didn’t want you to think I—well, that I stole it. Because I didn’t. Obviously. I mean, I would never steal from you. That would be—" I stop myself.

Oh my god, shut up, shut up, shut up.

He just blinks at me, his smirk deepening, like he doesn’t really know what to do with the shy, stammering girl standing in front of him, gripping his book like it’s her lifeline. He finally takes a step closer, and when he reaches for the book, his fingers brush against mine—just barely. A light touch. A test. It makes my heart beat so fast, I just know my Kimoyo beads are going to think I'm dying.

"That was brave of you." His voice is softer when he speaks again.

I blink. "What?"

He lifts a brow, glancing down at the book before looking back at me. "Most people wouldn’t come here. Not just to return a book."

I stare at him, heart pounding. I don’t know what to say. Don’t know how to explain that I was actually scared shitless the whole way here.

"I—uh, I just—" I swallow hard, heat creeping up my neck. "I felt... bad. Really bad. I mean, I didn’t know it was yours, obviously, but when Shuri told me, I just—"

I shake my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze again. Big mistake.

His eyes are still on me, watching. Waiting, for what I'm about to say, and somehow that makes the words tumble out even faster.

"I shouldn’t have touched it," I blurt out, gripping my fingers together. "I—I don’t even know how it ended up in the pile with the kids’ books. But if I’d known—" I shake my head again, voice pitching higher with every word. "I swear, I wouldn’t have even looked at it. I wouldn’t have let them—"

He doesn’t move, doesn’t interrupt, just listens, and for some reason, that makes me even more nervous.

I exhale sharply, shaking my head again. "I just... I don’t think I have the right to have it." My voice is softer now, quieter. "It’s important to you, and I—I shouldn’t have even brought it here, I just—"

The words hang between us, stretching out into the warm Wakandan air.

His face suddenly softens, and it’s so subtle, I probably wouldn't have noticed it if I wasn't panicking. A flicker of surprise, maybe even confusion spreads on his face, before something deeper settles behind his eyes. As if he wasn’t expecting that. Like he’s not used to people caring about how he feels.

I don’t know what I was expecting him to say. Maybe nothing. Maybe some quiet, sharp dismissal that sends me scurrying back down the hill with my tail between my legs.

A small, measured exhale snaps me out of my thoughts, and then he does something that absolutely was not on my list of possibilities.

He hands the book back to me.

I freeze, staring at the worn, faded cover as if it’s suddenly caught fire in his palm.

"What—?" I choke out. "I—I don’t—"

"Finish it," he says simply.

My head snaps up. I must have misheard him. I have to be hallucinating.

"F-Finish it?" I echo dumbly, voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky tilts his head slightly, watching me again—this time with the faintest trace of amusement.

"You read to them, right?" he says, nodding toward the book. "The kids?"

I nod, too stunned to do anything else.

"Then finish it," he says again, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "It’s been sitting on my shelf for years. It won’t kill me to part with it a little longer."

I just stare at him, completely, utterly shocked.

I came here expecting frost. Cold dismissal, irritation, maybe even anger. But this? This is something else entirely.

I swallow, fingers curling gently around the book as I hold it to my chest. "I—thank you," I manage. It’s a weak, pathetic response, but it’s all I can get out.

He just nods, and I don’t know what comes over me. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at me, like he doesn’t know what to do with the fact that I’m still standing here, still talking to him. Maybe it’s the fact that he gave me his book—the one thing he apparently never let anyone else touch. Or maybe it’s just pure insanity, but before I can talk myself out of it, the words tumble out.

"You should come."

"Come where?" His voice is low, a little raspy, as if he’s trying to figure out if I actually meant to say that out loud.

I wet my lips, gripping the book tighter.

"To the readings," I clarify, heart hammering in my throat. "With the kids."

Silence. A long, stretching silence. His expression cracks just for a second, a flicker of something like want, maybe even hope, before it disappears behind his carefully set jaw. His gaze drops. Not to the book—to the ground.

And I feel it before he even says it. The sadness. The fear.

"I can’t," he murmurs. And god, it’s so soft, it makes me want to hug him.

"Why not?"

He exhales, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek like he’s debating whether or not to tell me the truth.

"I’m not good around kids." His voice is flat, even, but there’s something weighted behind the words. Something like guilt.

I take a small step closer, lowering my voice. "But—"

"I shouldn’t be around them." His fingers twitch at his side, like this conversation is already too much. "It’s not a good idea."

"You—"

"I don’t trust myself," he blurts out, and this time, he doesn’t look at me.

And just like that, I get it. This is a man who has spent years convincing himself that he is dangerous, that he is something to be feared. That even now—healing, trying—he cannot risk being close to something as soft, as pure, as innocent… as a child.

That realization hits me like a brick to the chest. I want to tell him he’s wrong, that he’s not the Winter Soldier anymore, and that he never was, but I can’t. Something tells me he wouldn’t believe me.

"Okay," I say softly. "I understand."

He finally looks at me again, but I wish that he didn't, because there’s something so deeply sad in his eyes. Standing here, staring at the quiet, heavy ache on his beautiful face, I realize just how wrong I was.

He isn’t a man to be feared. He’s a man who fears himself. And I despise myself for ever thinking otherwise.

"Thank you again, for the book. See you around", I say as I slowly turn away, and he lets me.

I feel his eyes on my back the entire way down the hill. Not moving, not calling me back. Just watching.

I can’t stop thinking about him all night. Not when I make it back home, not when I try to lose myself in a book, not even when I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. I feel like I swallowed a stone, like there’s a weight in my chest that won’t lift, no matter how many times I tell myself to let it go.

But I can’t, because it isn’t fair. It's not fair that he’s all alone out there. He’s spent so long avoiding people, keeping himself away from warmth, from comfort, from company—not because he wants to, but because he thinks he has to. He thinks he doesn’t deserve it, and it crushes my heart with a force of a building collapsing.

I roll onto my side, clutching the book to my chest.

This story—his story—is about adventure. About finding courage. About leaving behind the safety of what you know and learning that you’re capable of more than you ever imagined. If there’s anyone who deserves that lesson... it’s him.

I make my decision before the sun even rises.

If he won’t come to the reading nights, I’ll bring the reading night to him. No one, not even the White Wolf, should have to be alone.

The moment the school day ends, I’m already moving, practically buzzing with excitement. I sling my bag over my shoulder, feeling the slight extra weight from what I’ve packed inside; snacks, drinks, a small thermos of tea, just in case. If I’m going to make him sit and listen, I’m going to make sure he’s comfortable while he does it. And for some reason, the thought of that? Of bringing him something warm, making him feel normal for even a split second? It makes me... giddy. Like I’m about to do something ridiculous and impossible.

And god, I can’t wait.

The memories of yesterday's walk to his little cottage flods my mind while I'm making my way there again. I can't believe I thought I was gonna die. The only danger that surrounds him is how dangerously beautiful he is, nothing else.

I run up the hill, still out of breath when I finally make my way to his door. I knock once, twice, nothing. For a solid five seconds, I stand there. Just as I consider knocking again, the door swings open so violently that I nearly fling myself into another dimension. And there he is, Bucky Barnes, standing in front of me, looking like I just hit him over the head with a frying pan.

His hair is damp, the scent of coconut and honey practically radiating from him. He is very much not dressed for visitors—he's wearing only sweatpants, no shirt, no metal arm. That's when I realize that he just got out of the shower.

Oh.

Oh, no.

I was not prepared for this. I force myself to keep my gaze on his face, and only his face, because if I let my eyes even think about dropping, I am absolutely going to lose my mind.

"Did I forget something?"

I blink. "What?"

"You’re—" he gestures vaguely toward me. "Here. Again."

"Yeah," I say, shifting my bag higher on my shoulder. "Obviously."

He stares.

I stare.

"Why?"

I clear my throat. "I, uh... brought stuff."

More staring.

"Stuff?"

"Yeah. Snacks. Drinks." I lift the thermos. "Tea."

He blinks. I blurt out the rest before I lose my nerve.

"For reading night."

Bucky’s entire face scrunches in confusion.

"For what now?"

I barrel forward, ignoring how my voice is getting higher with every word.

"Since you won’t come to reading night, I figured I’d bring reading night to you. So, yeah. Here I am."

Bucky looks at me. Then at the bag. Then back at me.

"Are you serious?"

"Yep."

He exhales. Long. Slow. Like he’s really regretting opening the door.

"You came all the way out here..."

"Yep."

"With...tea."

I shake the thermos a little. "Good tea, too."

His jaw tenses.

"To read. To me."

"Yep."

Silence. A long, painful, my-life-choices-are-questionable silence. Bucky presses his lips together, staring at me for an uncomfortably long time. Then, so slowly that I know he’s questioning every decision that led him here—

"Are you high?"

"What?!" I sputter, nearly dropping the thermos. "No!"

He tilts his head, suspicious. "Drunk?"

"Of course not!"

"Did Shuri put you up to this?"

"I—what? No!" I groan dramatically, shoving past him into the cabin before he can stop me. "Listen, Barnes," I say as I drop my bag onto the table, pulling out all my carefully packed snacks.

He looks personally offended.

"You—" He points at me. "—just invited yourself in."

"Obviously."

"In my house."

I hold up the bag of Wakandan fruit chips. "Brought snacks."

His jaw tightens.

"To read."

I scrunch the snack bag. "Candy, too."

Bucky drags a hand down his face like he wants to strangle me but doesn’t have the energy.

"I have no idea what you’re doing."

I grin up at him. "Yeah, well. Can’t have you reading alone, can we?"

His brows knit together, like I just proposed something entirely illogical, which, to him, I probably did. His gaze drifts to the book in my lap, then, to the tea and snacks I carefully laid out, and finally, back to me. Something in his eyes softens, just enough that if I weren’t looking so closely, I might have missed it. Without another word, Bucky sighs, grabs his t-shirt from the chair, and lowers himself onto the couch.

Not next to me, not even close—he sits at the farthest end possible. But hey, progress is progress. And so, reading night begins.

He doesn’t relax, not at first. He sits stiffly at the farthest end of the couch, arms crossed over his chest, like he’s bracing for something. It’s not hostility, not exactly—but it’s not comfort, either. He’s tense in a way that says he’s not used to this, not used to someone willingly sitting in his space, talking to him without expectation.

I don’t acknowledge it and I don’t call it out. Instead, I just open the book and start reading.

At first, he doesn’t seem to care. His eyes flicker between me and the floor, his knee bouncing slightly like he’s thinking about leaving. To my luck, he doesn’t. He stays, silent and unmoving, like he’s waiting to see how long I’ll keep this up.

So I do. I keep reading.

Somewhere between the first and second chapter, something shifts. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Bucky stops watching me and starts listening. His knee stills, the sharp lines of tension in his shoulders begin to smooth out, and before I know it, he’s no longer eyeing me with suspicion—he’s watching my hands turn the pages.

By the time I hit an hour, my throat is raw, and I force myself to stop. I close the book gently, stretching my sore neck, and that’s when Bucky snaps back to reality. His head jerks toward me, his expression unreadable, but there’s something almost dazed in his eyes, like I pulled him out of a trance.

"I should go," I murmur, rubbing my throat.

He doesn’t reply right away. Doesn’t tell me to stay, but doesn’t agree, either. He just watches as I gather my things, his fingers flexing subtly against his knee like he almost—almost—reached for me.

But then, as quickly as the moment comes, he stops himself. "Alright," he mutters, voice rough from disuse.

He stands when I do, but doesn’t walk me to the door. Doesn’t move at all, really. He just watches as I pull my bag over my shoulder, lips parting slightly like he wants to say something, but ultimately deciding against it.

I nod at him once, a silent goodbye, and step out. I already know I'm going to be back the next day.

The fire crackles softly, casting warm flickers of light across the cabin. Bucky is sitting at the far end of the couch again, just like the first night, but something is different. He’s not as stiff, not as closed off. His hands aren’t locked in tight fists against his knees, and every once in a while, I catch him watching the book instead of me.

It’s progress.

I keep reading, letting my voice fill the comfortable silence between us. And then I reach the line—

"May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks."

I pause, rolling the words over in my mind. They feel soft, weighty, like they mean something more than just a farewell.

"That’s..." I hesitate, glancing up at him. "That’s kind of beautiful, isn’t it?"

Bucky’s gaze lingers on the book for a second too long before he shifts, leaning his forearms onto his thighs. His face is unreadable, but he doesn’t look away.

"Yeah," he says, voice quiet. "It's one of my favorite lines."

It’s not much, but it’s something. A tiny glimpse behind the guarded walls.

I let out a small chuckle, nudging him lightly with my elbow. "That’s the most reaction I’ve gotten out of you so far. Should I be honored?"

His lips twitch. Not quite a smile, but something close. "Maybe."

I grin and turn back to the book, continuing on, but the air between us feels different now. Charged. Like I unknowingly stumbled onto something important. I don’t know it yet, but that sentence—those simple words—will keep finding their way back to us.

It happens the next time I visit. And the next.

Whenever I reach that line, I glance at Bucky without meaning to. And every time, he’s already looking at me.

One night, after I close the book and get up to leave, I decide to test something. With a teasing smile, I toss the words back at him—

"May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks, Barnes."

Bucky exhales, shaking his head, but I swear I see something warm flicker in his expression. He doesn’t say anything, not that night, but the next time, just as I turn to go—

"Same to you," he murmurs.

I freeze, looking back at him.

His face is carefully neutral, like it doesn’t mean anything. Like he didn’t just return a piece of something that belongs only to us.

I don’t call him out on it, I just smile. I come back the next night. And the night after that.

At first, I tell myself it’s just for the book, just for the kids. But I know better. I’m not reading for them right now—I’m reading for him. And he lets me.

Every night, I find him waiting, sitting on the couch, never asking me to stay but never telling me to leave either. He doesn’t sit quite as far away anymore. It’s subtle at first—his knee a little closer, his arm stretched along the back of the couch, his body angled toward me instead of away.

I pretend not to notice, but I do. It happens slowly.

One night, he’s just near enough that our shoulders almost touch when I turn a page. The next, I can feel his warmth without even trying. And the next, I can hear him breathe when I read.

When I close the book, I always say the same thing. "May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks."

And every time, he waits. He never responds immediately. He lets the words settle, like he’s measuring the weight of them before giving them back.

"Same to you."

That’s how I know he’ll let me return.

It’s been weeks.

I don’t knock anymore, I just step inside. And I don’t sit at the far end of the couch, I sit next to him. Close enough that our knees brush when I move, close enough that I can feel the slow, steady rhythm of his breath. He doesn’t pull away.

Tonight, his posture is different. Relaxed. His vibranium fingers rest on the couch cushions between us, so close I could close the gap in an instant. I read as I always do, my voice steady, words tumbling into the quiet of the cabin. And I can feel him listening—not just to the book, but to me.

By the time I finish the chapter, it’s late. The fire is low, casting soft, flickering shadows against the walls. I shut the book gently and stretch, sighing.

He watches me. I know he’s watching me, I feel it everywhere. I look at him, expecting him to say something, maybe a goodnight, maybe our thing. But instead, his gaze flickers lower—to my lips, to my throat, to my fingers still resting on the book between us.

And then, he moves.

It’s careful, so much slower than I expect, like he’s giving me time to stop him. He leans in, just enough for me to feel the warmth of him, to catch the sharp, clean scent of pine and firewood clinging to his skin. His lips hover over mine. He doesn’t touch me, not yet, but his breath ghosts over my mouth, and for a second, I swear I forget how to breathe at all.

I don’t move, I don’t blink. And then—he kisses me.

It’s so much softer than I thought it would be. Bucky Barnes is all sharp edges, calloused hands, a body hardened by war. But his lips? They’re gentle. Careful. Like he’s still afraid to take.

The kiss is barely there, just the lightest brush of his mouth against mine, a question more than an answer. And that’s what undoes me.

I exhale, shakily, my fingers curling into the fabric of my own shirt. I should move, should lean in, but all I can do is sit here, drowning in the quiet, aching tenderness of it all. Bucky hesitates, like he thinks he’s done something wrong, like he’s about to pull away, but I don’t let him. I chase after him, my hands coming up to cup his face, to hold him there. And this time, it’s different. This time, when our lips meet, he doesn’t hold back.

A soft, desperate sound rumbles in his throat as he presses forward, kissing me properly now. His hand slides up, fingers ghosting over my jaw, my cheekbone, threading through my hair like he can’t bear not to touch me. The warmth of him spreads everywhere. I sigh against his mouth, and it’s that sound that does it—something in him snaps.

He pulls me in deeper, a hand slipping to my waist, dragging me closer and closer.

I let him have me that night. Because God, how I wanted him to.

"You did what now?"

Shuri’s voice nearly echoes in the vast Wakandan library, her eyes wide with unfiltered shock. I watch as she sets her cup of tea down so slowly, so carefully, like she might drop it if she moves too fast.

I bite my lip. "I... slept with Bucky."

Her expression doesn’t change. She just blinks at me, mouth slightly agape, as if trying to process the words.

"I knew something was going on," she finally says, leaning back in her chair. "The way you were always sneaking off, carrying snacks like a lovesick fool—but I thought, oh no, she wouldn’t do anything reckless."

I shift uncomfortably. "It’s not reckless."

Shuri’s brows lift. "Not reckless? Not reckless? You slept with the most unstable super soldier alive, and you don’t think that’s reckless?"

I open my mouth, but she cuts me off with a dramatic sigh, waving a hand in front of her face. "Wait, wait, before I scold you, tell me... how was it?"

I nearly choke on air. "Excuse me?!"

Shuri smirks. "Come on, I know it had to be something."

I feel my face burn hotter than the Wakandan sun. "I’m not talking about this with you."

She laughs, delighted, but then, her expression sobers. The teasing fades, replaced by something far more serious.

"Alright, alright," she says, studying me. "So, what, you have feelings for him now?"

I inhale sharply, because that’s the real question, isn’t it? The thing I’ve been trying to tread carefully around in my own mind. Even though it scares me, I don’t hesitate when I answer.

"I think... I think I love him."

Shuri watches me closely, fingers tapping against her knee. "Then you need to listen to me. Carefully."

I nod, my stomach twisting at the shift in her tone. She exhales, and for the first time, there’s no humor in her voice at all.

"Bucky’s mind is not safe."

I blink. "What?"

She leans forward. "You know what they did to him. You know what HYDRA turned him into. Just because the trigger words are gone, it doesn’t mean he’s free. He’s still haunted by it. He still wakes up thinking he’s in a cage."

My throat tightens.

"I’ve seen it firsthand," she continues. "Some nights, he wakes up and doesn’t know where he is. Doesn’t know who he is. And if that happens when you’re with him, if he snaps—"

She doesn’t finish the sentence. She doesn’t need to. A cold shiver runs down my spine.

"I know he wouldn’t hurt me," I whisper, but the words feel fragile, like I’m trying to convince myself.

Shuri tilts her head. "Do you?"

I stare at her, my pulse pounding in my ears. Because the truth is—I don’t.

I’ve seen the way his hands twitch when he dreams. I’ve seen the way his shoulders lock up at sudden noises. I’ve seen the fear in his own eyes when he realizes how much strength he holds in his hands.

Shuri softens slightly, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. "I’m not saying this to scare you. I’m saying this because I love you, and I know you love him. But if you’re serious about him, you need to be prepared."

I swallow. "Prepared for what?"

Her expression turns grim.

"For the moment you have to bring him back."

Present day

The world is narrowing.

My lungs burn like fire. Every desperate, gasping inhale is cut short by the unrelenting steel around my throat. My body fights—uselessly, weakly—nails scraping at his wrist, legs kicking out beneath him, but it’s like trying to stop a storm with my bare hands.

His grip is iron.

I can’t breathe.

I’m going to die.

The thought slams into me like ice-cold water, and panic overtakes me. Not because of the pain or the black spots creeping at the edges of my vision, but because it’s him.

My Bucky.

And when he comes back—when he realizes what he’s done—he will never forgive himself.

Tears spill down my temples as I force my lips to move, but no sound escapes. There’s nothing left in my lungs. I’m too lightheaded, too far gone, the world tilting, twisting, breaking apart—

No.

I can’t leave him like this.

I have to bring him back.

My hands shake, my chest heaves, my vision is fading, but I manage to force the words out, a breathless, choked whisper—

"M—may the… wind under… y-your wings… bear you…"

Bucky stiffens. A shuddering tremor runs down his spine, his fingers twitching around my throat—but they don’t let go. I can’t tell if he’s hearing me or if it’s just luck, instinct, or a trick of fate.

I try again, barely audible, but desperate.

"…w-where the sun s-sails… and… the moon…walks."

A violent jerk wracks through his body. His grip loosens, just enough that I suck in a shuddering gasp, the first real breath I’ve had in what feels like forever, but I don’t stop.

"Bucky."

His whole body locks up. His breath stutters, falters. I can feel the tremor in his hands now, the slight hesitation where before there was only brutal, unthinking force.

"Bucky, it’s me."

And that’s when it happens.

His fingers slip away from my throat completely, as if they were never really there at all. He staggers backward like he’s been struck, his vibranium arm swinging wildly before he catches himself against the remains of the coffee table.

His chest heaves. Eyes darting across the room, over the wreckage, over me, and then, they land on his hands.

I watch his whole world collapse.

He lifts his flesh hand first, staring at his fingers like they belong to someone else, like they are something vile, monstrous. But then his gaze drops lower—to my neck. My throat is raw, burning, bruised, I can feel it, but I don’t have time to process it because Bucky sees it too.

And the moment he does, a broken, guttural noise rips from his chest. He stumbles backward, shaking his head, eyes wide with absolute, soul-crushing horror.

"No... no, no, no—" His voice is wrecked, barely a whisper, barely a sound.

I can see it—the way his mind is spinning, unraveling, trying to understand how he got here, what he’s done. His breath shudders, his whole body trembling so violently it looks like he might fall apart right in front of me.

Then, he does. His knees give out. He crumbles, hitting the floor hard, his hands fisting in his hair as he gasps for air like he’s the one being choked now.

"What did I do—" He’s shaking his head, pulling at his own scalp, curling in on himself like he’s trying to disappear. "What did I do, what did I—"

I don’t even think before I move toward him.

"Bucky," I rasp, my voice hoarse and broken, but he doesn’t hear me.

His breaths come too fast, too shallow, his chest rising and falling in sharp, ragged movements. His flesh hand claws at his hair, his vibranium fingers digging into the floorboards hard enough that I hear the wood splinter beneath his grip.

His whole body is shaking.

"I hurt you—" His voice is wrecked, strangled, barely audible through his erratic gasps. "I hurt you, I— I can’t—"

I see it happening. The rapid-fire panic, the loss of control. The way his hands start twitching, like he doesn’t know what to do with them, like they are still weapons. His chest heaves, ribs trembling, body rocking slightly as he folds in tighter on himself, as if making himself small could undo it.

I drop to my knees, ignoring the burn in my throat, ignoring the ache in my body, and I touch him. A gentle, steadying hand against his shoulder.

"Bucky," I whisper, softer this time.

His whole body jerks, like he expects me to flinch away, like he deserves for me to flinch away. But I don’t.

I squeeze lightly, pressing my palm flat against his shoulder blade, feeling the shaking, the unsteadiness, the way he is completely unraveling in front of me.

"You’re safe," I murmur, my fingers pressing against the back of his neck, stroking gently, grounding him. "I’m safe. It’s okay, Bucky. You came back."

His breathing stumbles, like he’s trying to catch it. His fingers twitch against the floor again, but this time, they don’t clench. I see the moment he realizes, the exact second something shifts, cracks open inside him. His gaze lifts, blurry and disoriented, landing on me as if he’s seeing me for the first time.

"It worked." He blinks rapidly, still fighting the storm in his chest, but his eyes flicker, searching, processing. "The words," he exhales, half-dazed, half-stunned. "They... worked."

His expression is a mix of wonder and exhaustion, grief and relief, like he can’t quite believe it, that even through the darkness, I was able to reach him.

I give him a soft, trembling smile.

"Of course they did," I whisper, brushing my fingers through his hair. "I told you I’d bring you back."

A shuddering breath leaves him, his body still shaking, but he’s here. I really did bring him back.

And I know, no matter how deep he falls, no matter how lost he gets, no matter how many times the Soldier tries to take him from me, I will always reach him.

Because these words are his anchor. And I am the one holding the rope.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfiction #bucky ff #sebastian stan #marvel #the white wolf #wakanda #shuri #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you

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