#especially when its the ones who can only do one voice

[mononijikayu]

wife — nanami kento.

“I don’t like the way they’re looking at you.” You whisper to him. “Let them, honey.” he said, his deep voice rich with certainty. “That’s all they can do.” He took your hand, calloused but gentle, and squeezed it just enough to send a rush of comfort through you. His thumb traced the side of your hand in a subtle, soothing gesture. The cool metal of his ring finger brushes against your skin with intent.  “They should know that I am exactly where I choose to be. I’m a married man, after all.”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: romance, marriage, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, p to v sex, toilet sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (baby, honey), possesiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, if your partner isn't nanami kento then don't have him ladies, gents and non-binary friends;

WORD COUNT: 6.6k words.

NOTE: nanami kento won the poll, so here we are!!! its relatively shorter than the current style i have, but i hope you still like it. and yes, i added a spoiler for shoko and geto's younger sister (since shoko won #2 in the poll, she also gets a fic!!!). they are still together cause god knows they need love and care after all they have been through. anyway, i hope you all enjoy this!!! i love you all and see you in the next one <3

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if you want to, tip! <3

THIS WAS A RARE OPPORTUNITY.  You don’t like going to these high social events at all, not even outside Jujutsu society. You were a homebody, you adored having time to yourself. But you can’t ignore Gojo Satoru’s invitation. Even if you want to.

He’s been so good to your Kento and he’s always making sure that none of the old farts are making his life miserable. So you felt inclined to go. You felt inclined to play a little bit with this world. 

The grand hall of Gojo manor was resplendent, a wash of gold and white with shimmering drapes that caught the light of the crystal chandeliers overhead. Gojo Satoru was not thrilled to host the gathering. But since it was his duty as the Gojo clan head and he had to play nice with all these people — he gave in and threw the party.

Of course, he refused to make it exclusively a sorcerer only gathering. He wanted to ensure that it was open to everyone, even yourself. That in itself breaks tradition. More often than not, it was only sorcerers, especially those in the higher echelons of Jujutsu society, who were allowed to come and enjoy such liberties. 

But of course, Gojo Satoru was not such a man of tradition. He hated it, as much as your Kento. So, of course, to enjoy you and Kento’s company and to spite all these snobs, he made sure to invite you and everyone else.

You find that you’re at least enjoying the building’s architecture. You were a fan of architecture, in all forms and culture. You and your husband Kento shared that passion, more so when you both were in Denmark or when you both were in the countryside. 

Still, Gojo manor was not too bad. You marvel at the intricate carvings on the walls depicting centuries of legendary battles and heroics of history gone by. Each one was a reminder that this was not just a gathering but a showcase of the Jujutsu world's most powerful and influential. 

Sorcerers mingled, their robes embroidered with clan symbols and sigils that spoke of generations of power and prestige. Conversations buzzed with a mix of guarded politeness and subtle rivalry.

The room alive with an undercurrent of competition disguised as small talk. The sound of polite laughter mixed with the clink of glasses filled with aged sake, its delicate aroma weaving through the air like a ghost.

You stood near the buffet table, the scent of delicacies. Gojo Satoru did well with getting everything together for this, especially the food, all high quality — only the best of the Gojo clan head’s tastes. You both think the same in that exquisite taste. 

That certainly is why you were excited to taste everything. From the perfectly grilled yakitori, dainty bowls of ikura don, to the plates piled with fresh sashimi and brilliantly wrapped hamachi. They were all wafting around you. They were all perfect for you.

“I regret wearing this dress.” You tell yourself in a small mumble. “It’s too tight and I forgot Gojo likes good food like me. I thought he would have left it to his goons to decide the food menu…”

You were dressed in an elegant but simple gown, a deep navy blue that skimmed your figure without the drama of glittering embellishments or the boldness of vibrant silks. Compared to the ostentatious displays around you, it felt almost understated, but it was you.

You could hardly care about the fashions of Jujutsu society. You liked your fashion. And your husband did too. That was all that mattered. You adjusted the silver cuff on your wrist, a small but meaningful gift from Nanami, its cool weight reassuring against your skin.

You glanced around, eyes catching a few familiar faces. There was Nitta Akari from administration and management, gesturing animatedly as she spoke with her colleagues, her face flushed with excitement. Mei Mei stood nearby, her icy beauty undiminished by the cool smirk she wore. 

She held court as always, eyes sharp as a hawk’s as she listened, spoke, and effortlessly commanded the attention of everyone within earshot. Hell, there was Usami too — but he was surrounded by those vultures from the conservative factions. 

But most of the women were like the wives of powerful clan leaders. They represented their husbands, who thought it too boring to join the gathering or rather were abandoned by their husbands to do other things. 

Yet they were powerful women in their own right and they wanted you to know it. They wanted for you to see it, so badly. Their outfits elaborate displays of status, from the gold-threaded kimonos to the jewels woven into their hair.  Their makeup was meticulous, brows arched and lips painted in deep shades of crimson or plum. 

Most of them were interesting to gawk at. But you were certain they thought the same about you. Especially those specific women. It was those more haughty women, clan women under the big three who glanced your way with subtle, evaluating eyes.

You could feel their scrutiny as tangibly as the satin ribbons brushing your wrists. A fan fluttered as a woman whispered behind it, her gaze cutting sideways toward you. She looked as haughty and dry as her entire face.

“Do you think she really fits in here?” one murmured, just loud enough for the question to reach your ears.

“I heard she’s not even a sorcerer.” came the response, this time with a touch of incredulity. “Yet they let her come near our children, to teach them about a world they don’t dwell in. Pathetic waste of time!” 

You pretended not to hear, reaching for a skewer of yakitori to busy your hands. But your pulse quickened, not with embarrassment, but with the awareness of the reason behind their thinly veiled curiosity. They must have been Zenin women, perhaps married to the higher ranked men in Zenin Naobito’s circle. You felt bad for them, yet you also hated them. 

But you knew that wasn’t the case for their hatred of you. Not exactly. It wasn’t the fact that you were an outsider, a non-sorcerer working as a window at Jujutsu High, who taught mundane subjects like history and literature to the students. 

Nor was it that the students often liked you better, seeking your lessons as a respite from their harsher training. It was the reason these women whispered behind jeweled fans and exchanged glances tinged with envy: you were the much beloved wife of Nanami Kento, the stalwart, handsome, and sought-after grade one sorcerer.

From across the room, you caught sight of him. He stood among a small circle of colleagues, the sharp lines of his tailored suit a contrast to the flowing robes around him. His expression was as stoic as ever, but there was a small shift when he saw you, a softening in his gaze that no one else would notice. 

To everyone else, he was the unapproachable, severe sorcerer who never let his guard down. But you knew the way his bright eyes would close just slightly when he was tired, the low chuckle he reserved for evenings spent at home, the way his voice lowered when he told you stories of his youth.

“Good evening.” came a familiar voice that broke through your wandering thoughts. You turned to find Ieiri Shoko standing beside you, her expression one of relaxed amusement. 

She was dressed in an elegant black ensemble that perfectly complemented her laid-back demeanor, a glass of sake dangling effortlessly from her fingers. Her sharp eyes glimmered with mischief as she surveyed the room.

“Evening.” You greeted back at her, your lips sharply echoing into a smile. “Why are you alone? Where’s your darling at?”

“Oh, surrounded by those pathetic vultures.” She pointed at the table where she was talking with the Kyoto women, smiling brightly. “Ugh, I hate those freaks. I can’t believe she’s around them. They’re not even worth an ounce of her giggles.”

“Geto–san has to make good with people somehow.” You pointed out to her, humming. “Connections are just connections. But you’re her lover. It’s been some years. Breathe, Sho.”

She rolls her eyes, before smiling. “Yeah, yeah.”

“How have you been?”

“Good, as always.” Shoko retorts back, humming at you. “I just wish I had cigarettes. But she said if I tried to smoke tonight, she wouldn’t let me hit.”

You laugh at her bluntness. “I do the same to Kento too, but with his alcohol. You both have to be kept on a leash.”

 “Oh the things we do for love.” She sighed heavily before looking at the ones glaring at you both. It wasn’t hard to notice those clusters of sorcerer wives eyeing you with thinly veiled intentions. “You’re doing well against their scrutiny, I see.”

“Barely. But I do find myself enjoying it.” you admitted, a small laugh escaping despite the tension. Shoko’s company was always welcome; her nonchalance had a way of making everything seem less dire.

Shoko took a slow sip from her glass, savoring it like she savored every moment. She shifted her gaze to one of the wives, a woman with a crimson kimono embroidered so elaborately it looked more like a tapestry than a garment. The woman was whispering behind her fan, eyes darting toward you and Shoko with a practiced side glance.

“Ah, her again. I thought she wouldn’t be here after she got exposed for her affair.” Shoko said, rolling her eyes with exaggerated flair. She leaned closer, voice low but biting. “Careful, she’s liable to sprain her neck with how much she’s been glaring. I heard last time she tried something that intense, she nearly fainted from holding her breath.”

You stifled a laugh, your shoulders shaking with barely contained mirth. Shoko’s dry humor was like a breath of fresh air, slicing through the tension with an effortless charm. The woman in the crimson kimono noticed your reaction and stiffened, her cheeks blooming with indignation.

“Let them look, let them whisper. Let them be jealous of you.” Shoko said, turning her eyes back to you. Her voice shifted to something more genuine, the mocking edge softening. “They’ll keep wondering because they can’t figure it out. You’re different, and they hate not understanding something. It’s their worst fear.”

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding, the knots in your chest loosening. Shoko’s words were more than just comfort; they were a reminder that your place here wasn’t defined by others’ perceptions but by your own truth and by the fact that Nanami stood beside you, unwavering.

“Thanks, Sho. I appreciate it a lot.” you said, voice steadying.

She gave a small shrug, the kind that said don’t make it a big deal. With another sip of sake, she nodded toward the buffet. “Now, let’s hope they restock the good tempura. If not, someone’s getting cursed tonight, and it won’t be me.”

She winked, then sauntered away, leaving you with a smile and the indelible impression that you weren’t as alone as you sometimes felt. Once she moved to the corner to see about the temperature, you could feel from the corner of your eye.

You saw the clan wives exchanging glances again. Their perfectly painted lips tightened just slightly as Nanami Kento, breaking from his group, made his way toward you, every step a quiet declaration.

“Is it true? She’s the one married to him?” another ignorant one whispered, leaning into a group of women whose gazes darted in your direction.

“Yes, the one with Nanami Kento, the number two of the first grade sorcerers.” another foolish one confirmed, unable to keep the hint of envy out of her voice. 

You turned slightly, pretending not to hear as you picked up a small plate of delicacies. You did not care for what they wanted to say about you. You were more focused on your desire to taste the dishes. The laughter and clinking glasses around you felt muted under the weight of the tension gathering nearby.

The whispers turned to sharp murmurs, punctuated by gasps and scandalized looks. But perhaps that bothered them even more, because they started making more comments.

“Who does she think she is, that no name wanna be?” The foolish one whispered, loud enough for people to hear her. But perhaps she does not realize she was not being discreet. 

The ignorant one scoffs in disbelief, shaking her head. “What a snob! How can Nanami-san be married to her?”

Shoko heard enough of it and turned around almost immediately from the dishes to the ladies. They jumped out of their seats. She rolls her eyes at them. It was as though she was just as annoyed as she was bored with them. 

“Honestly, get over yourselves. You all look like desperate idiots.” she said, a lazy smirk tugging at her lips as she leaned casually against a marble pillar. Everyone was now looking at them. Aren’t you at least going to have the gall to say it to our face, lady Kawami?”

The woman in the crimson kimono, lady Kawami, known for her sharp tongue and her greedy  ambition gasped, her painted lips parting in shock. Beside her, another woman with intricately styled hair and a pinched expression scowled deeply. 

“How dare you—”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Shoko’s laughter was light and mocking, yet the glint in her eyes held no softness. She tilted her head, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at Lady Kawami’s reddening face. “You think Nanami Kento would like an ugly face and a bad attitude like yours? Ha! You wish!”

The crowd that had gathered to eavesdrop was stunned into silence, eyes flicking between the women like spectators at a duel. The foolish one’s face turned a deep shade of red, while the ignorant one sputtered, looking moments away from summoning her husband and causing an uproar. 

“You cannot talk to us like that!” she shrieked, voice pitched high with indignation. “My husband will hear of this!”

“Now, now, lady Kawami, you shouldn’t treat my guests like that.” The familiar, light-hearted voice of Gojo Satoru interrupted the escalating tension. The two women felt their eyes widen. They quickly bow before him. “It’s so disrespectful, don’t you think?”

Heads turned as he approached, dressed in an exquisite black and silver kimono decorated with the Gojo clan crest. Even in traditional wear, he managed to exude a casual, almost irreverent charm. His dark, round glasses perched on his nose added to the effect as he lowered them just slightly, revealing eyes that shimmered with barely concealed amusement.

“Ah, Gojo-sama.” Lady Kawami said, trying to mask her fluster with a demure nod, but the tension in her posture betrayed her. “I didn’t mean any disrespect towards her, but surely you can understand that—”

“Oh, I understand completely, lady Kawami.” Gojo interrupted, a playful grin spreading across his face. He pushed his glasses back up, letting them catch the light so that the rest of the room was reflected in them. “I understand that you’re boring my dear friend Shoko, and frankly, I can’t have that. Her girlfriend wouldn't be so happy, either. And of course, I love my friend’s happiness.”

The subtle ripple of suppressed laughter ran through the more observant bystanders. Lady Kawami’s mouth snapped shut, her eyes narrowing dangerously. It was rare for someone to speak to her like that and get away with it, but this was Gojo Satoru. A man whose reputation as the most powerful sorcerer in the room and quite possibly the world would mean his words carried weight that no amount of social maneuvering could deflect.

Shoko’s smirk widened as she raised her glass in mock toast to Gojo, her eyes gleaming. “Well, look who decided to save the day. Dashing, really, Gojo.”

He winked at her. “Anything to make sure tonight stays interesting.”

The ignorant one, still seething but now cautious, looked between Gojo and Shoko before settling on silence. The power dynamics had shifted too sharply, and she knew better than to push further. No one can go against Gojo Satoru and not face repercussions. No one. And it would have ended up badly for their husbands and their families if they did. 

You exhaled, tension releasing from your shoulders as the spectacle unraveled. A small, knowing smile touched your lips as Kento's eyes found yours from across the room, his expression softening just a fraction, and you knew that you weren’t alone in facing these moments. You were surrounded by friends who would always have your back, in their own unique, if slightly chaotic, ways.

The room’s atmosphere gradually loosened, tension shifting back to its usual simmering undercurrent. Gojo’s playful banter had disarmed the scene, leaving only the embarrassed scowls of lady Kawami and her cohort. Shoko took another sip of her sake, the glint of satisfaction in her eyes clear as she watched the women bristle and disperse.

“Good job not throwing that plate, masterful control.” Shoko said to you, her voice carrying a hint of approval. She nodded at the untouched delicacies in your hand. “Would’ve been a waste of good food.”

You chuckled softly, appreciating her humor. “Shouldn’t you be saying that to yourself, Sho?”

“Well, I mean, that’s true.” 

Gojo laughs. “Shoko would have done worse than that and we both know it.”

“Hm, but I would have you carry my food to my table.”

“Oh? Then people would be surprised, how anyone can force the Gojo clan leader to do anything on a whim.”

Before you could respond, a presence behind you made the small hairs on your neck stand up in recognition. You turned, and there he was—Nanami Kento, striding toward you with the kind of quiet confidence that set him apart from the rest.

He looked ever so handsome, your husband. But when you get him even more up close? It’s a different story. He looked even more like a god when he stood before you this close.  

He took in the scene, eyes flicking over the lingering crowd, Gojo’s smirk, and Shoko’s knowing look. Then his attention settled on you, warm and steady. “I see I missed the entertainment.” he said, his voice deep and even, but with a trace of curiosity.

Gojo lifted a hand in a lazy wave. “Ah, Nanami, you missed Shoko here defending your lovely lady’s honor with an admirable lack of diplomacy.”

Kento’s brows lifted slightly, his gaze darting to Shoko, who shrugged, unbothered. “They deserved it.” she said, as if that were the most obvious fact in the world.

With a quiet exhale, Kento nodded, accepting the unspoken truth that you were protected by bonds deeper than mere duty. He reached out, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. The small gesture spoke volumes, his touch grounding and reassuring. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, eyes searching yours for any trace of discomfort.

You smiled up at him, your earlier tension melting away entirely under his gaze. “I am now.”

The corners of his mouth twitched in what might have been a smile, subdued as always but unmistakably there. The few remaining onlookers, who had hoped to catch a new drama unfolding, exchanged glances before deciding they had better places to be.

Gojo clapped his hands, shattering the delicate silence that had settled. “Well, now that we’ve cleared the air, what do you say we toast to another evening of society’s finest theatrics?” His grin was as wide as ever, his glasses reflecting the chandelier’s light like a pair of miniature suns.

Nanami shook his head, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced at you, then back at Gojo. “You never change, Gojo.” he muttered, the ghost of a smile touching his lips.

“And wouldn’t it be boring if I did?” Gojo countered, raising a brow.

Shoko raised her glass, smirking at Gojo before tipping it toward you and Nanami. “Unwavering loyalty and keeping things interesting!” she said.

You lifted your plate with a grin, and Kento, never one for dramatics, simply inclined his head. But the unspoken promise in his gaze, the silent support he offered, said more than any toast or witty comment ever could. In a hall filled with power, it was that quiet moment, surrounded by friends and the one who held your heart, that resonated most.

Soon enough, Shoko returned to her girlfriend with her plate stacked with food on one hand and the other holding a glass of wine. Her girlfriend, Geto Suguru’s younger sister, was waiting for her at one of the tables by the back.

Of course, Gojo Satoru returned to moving about and greeting everyone, but he seemed to have been halted by lord Kawami, probably trying to get things straight and settled. No one likes losing his favor after all. It was better that everything was smoothed out with him.

The incident however did not stop the women from continuing to look at your husband wantingly. One of the clan leader’s wives, her jeweled fan hiding half her face, whispered something to the woman beside her. They glanced over, eyes narrowing as if they could decipher what spell had ensnared someone like Nanami Kento.

“They’re watching again.” you murmured, feeling a twinge of jealousy and self-consciousness.

You immediately caught the glance of a woman adorned with a striking emerald necklace that glittered every time she turned. Her expression was polished and unreadable, but the pointed way she looked at you sent an old, familiar discomfort crawling up your spine.

Kento’s presence next to you was a calm in the storm, an anchor against the waves of whispers and stares. He tilted his head slightly, just enough that the room’s golden glow cast warm highlights across his sharp features. His eyes, serious and unwavering, met yours.

“I don’t like the way they’re looking at you.” You whisper to him.

“Let them, honey.” he said, his deep voice rich with certainty. “That’s all they can do.”

He took your hand, calloused but gentle, and squeezed it just enough to send a rush of comfort through you. His thumb traced the side of your hand in a subtle, soothing gesture. The cool metal of his ring finger brushes against your skin with intent. 

“They should know that I am exactly where I choose to be. I’m a married man, after all.”

A silence swept over the nearby crowd, as if Nanami Kento’s words, though spoken softly, carried through the hall like a sudden change in the wind. The clan leaders’ wives, women who could command a room with a flick of their eyes or a whisper laced with intent, shifted uncomfortably. For all their power, their meticulously curated reputations, and the alliances they upheld like prized heirlooms, they had never been the center of such unwavering devotion.

Akari from administration glanced over and offered a subtle nod of approval, a small smile playing on her lips as she resumed her conversation. Mei Mei, sharp-eyed and ever perceptive, caught the moment as well. She raised her glass, her smirk deepening as though to say, well played.

The subtle tension that once swirled around the room, woven through glances and whispers, began to dissipate. Some turned their attention back to their conversations, laughter resuming, but not without the occasional glance in your direction, this time tinged more with begrudging respect than judgment.

“Kento, baby.” you said softly, a small smile breaking through as your heart settled back into its natural rhythm. The weight of self-consciousness fell away, replaced by a warm sense of belonging that his presence always seemed to ignite.

“Hmm?” he replied, his gaze still watching you with an intensity that was rare for him, except when you were alone.

“Thank you, baby.” you whispered, squeezing his hand back.

His eyes softened, the smallest, barely-there curve of his lips showing just the hint of a smile meant only for you. “There’s nothing to thank me for, honey.” he replied, tilting his head as if to read your thoughts. “It’s simply the truth.”

══════════════════

IT HAPPENED AS QUICKLY AS ONE COULD BLINK. But you suppose you can’t help it. Your desire for pleasure was fast when it came to Nanami Kento. Much more so when you’re jealous. BUt you knew your husband liked that. More than he likes to admit to you.

You felt a delicious rush of power as you yanked him closer by his tie, leading him out of the crowded hall. Away from the watchful eyes and mingling strangers, it was just the two of you in the quiet, dim hallway, with only your quickened breaths filling the silence.

The door closed behind you, and before you could say another word, his hands were on you, strong and possessive, pressing you back against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall. His fingers traced over your hips and along your waist, leaving a tingling heat in their wake.

It was as if he was memorizing every inch of you all over again. You looked up at him, catching his gaze; his eyes were heavy with desire, and the way he looked at you made your knees feel weak. He was entirely yours in that moment, and you were entirely his.

Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the warmth beneath his shirt, his heartbeat echoing your own. His mouth was on yours again, the kiss deep and ravenous, filling the space with the sounds of quickened breath and desperate touches. The world beyond the bathroom faded, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other.

When he pulled back to look at you, you could barely catch your breath. His hand found the curve of your neck, fingers tracing gently along your jawline, and your own hands gripped his shoulders, grounding you as your pulse raced.

“You’re so good….” you managed to whisper breathlessly, your voice trembling as you tried to form words. "Kento….." you murmured, the words spilling out between gasps, each syllable almost a sigh as you clung to him. 

The intensity of his gaze made you shiver, your own desire reflected in his eyes. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek, and you felt a thrill ripple through you as he whispered your name. His breath felt hot, so tenderly warm against your skin. And even more so when he said your name in that breathy way. That made you feel even more excitement.

For a moment, you both paused, catching your breath as the heat of the moment washed over you. His fingers brushed along your cheek, his thumb tracing the corner of your mouth, as though savoring this quiet, charged moment before pulling you back in with the same raw, electric passion.

And in that hidden space, the two of you lost yourselves, caught in the perfect, unbreakable intimacy that felt like a world away from the bustling party. If you both had your way, both of you would have been locked away from the world. All you needed was each other.

His hands explored with a possessive tenderness, each touch leaving trails of fire across your skin. You let out a shaky breath, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he pressed his lips along your jaw, down to the sensitive spot just below your ear. You shivered, feeling him smile against your skin, clearly pleased at the effect he was having on you.

You pulled him even closer, fingers moving from his shirt to his tie, loosening it slightly, just enough to slide it off his neck. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his eyes fixed on you with a focused intensity that made you feel as though you were the only person in the world.

"Can’t believe you dragged me out here, honey." he murmured, his voice low and teasing, his words sending a thrill through you. "But I’d follow you anywhere. I’ll make love to you anywhere you want me to."

His words made your heart race, and you felt the butterflies from earlier stirring again as he leaned in, his mouth meeting yours with a new urgency. It was as if all the tension from the night poured into that kiss, building into something raw and unstoppable.

As he pulled you closer, his fingers gently brushed your hair back from your face, and you caught his gaze, breathless. You couldn’t help the small, breathless laugh that escaped as you looked at him, both of you a little dizzy, a little wild.

“This is dangerous, you know, baby.” you whispered, a playful smirk dancing on your lips as you tightened your hold on him. But he only raised an eyebrow, his own grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Good.” he replied, his voice a low murmur. "Wouldn’t have it any other way."

Soon enough, you were under his thumb. His movements grew rougher, each thrust deep and unrelenting, sending a surge of sensation through you that bordered on overwhelming. Every press of his body against yours was a heady mixture of strength and passion. 

And it was all you could do to cling to him, fingers digging into his shoulders as the intensity built. His pace quickened, and you felt your back arch instinctively, unable to control the way your body responded to him.

Your breaths came in sharp, shallow gasps, each one catching in your throat as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, his touch both possessive and tender. Your senses blurred; the world narrowed down to the feel of him, the heat between you, the way he whispered your name against your skin in a voice that was both rough and reverent.

Every movement, every thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, each one pushing you further until you were lost in the sheer intensity of it all. You gripped him tightly, almost desperately, as though grounding yourself against the delicious onslaught. 

His name left your lips in broken gasps, and as you met his gaze, the shared passion and vulnerability in his eyes were enough to undo you completely. Everything about your husband makes you feel alive. Especially at this moment. He was good at making you cry for life.

In that moment, you felt yourself surrender, giving in fully to the dizzying rush, to him, and to the warmth and bliss that consumed you both. You shifted slightly beneath him, the heat of your body still trapped in the shared intimacy of the moment. The words escaped you before you could stop them, your jealousy bubbling to the surface. 

"I saw the way they were looking at you tonight, baby." you whispered, your voice a blend of frustration and desire, your fingers gripping his shoulders tightly. "All those women... They were ogling you, making eyes at you, and I couldn’t—"

His breath hitched at the raw honesty in your voice. His eyes darkened, a flicker of something primal flashing across his face. Without breaking his rhythm, he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he growled, "Don’t you dare think about them. You're the only one I want. I only want my wife. My little precious wife."

His words were a balm, but the way his body moved, the deep, relentless thrusts, were what truly silenced your insecurities. The force of each movement was almost punishing, his hips driving into you harder, making your head spin with pleasure. His hands gripped your hips, steadying you as he picked up speed, his breath ragged against your skin.

"You think I want them?" he asked, his voice a dark, velvety rasp. "No. It's you, only you. Always been you." His words came out in desperate gasps, the intensity of his thrusts growing, pushing you both to the edge. "You’re mine. No one else matters."

You moaned, feeling a thrill surge through your chest, his raw claim igniting something deeper within you. His pace never faltered, and as he rams into you harder.

Each movement seems to strip away the last remnants of your doubts. Your body responded, the tension in you winding tighter, tighter, until you were sure you'd break. You could barely speak, your voice hitching as you met his powerful thrusts with a soft whimper, your body rocking with the force of him.

"I’m jealous, baby. I always am." you admitted, your hands tracing down his chest, grasping at him desperately, the words slipping between gasps. "But you're mine too. Only mine."

"Always have been, honey. Only yours." he replied, his hands pressing you harder into the cold tile as he moved faster, pushing you further toward the edge with each heated thrust. 

His voice was a low growl, his rhythm unrelenting, and you could feel him losing himself as much as you were, both of you consumed by the need, the overwhelming desire to claim and be claimed.

The moment his lips crashed into yours, everything else seemed to melt away. The overwhelming intensity of the kiss mirrored the urgency of his movements, his body pressing deeper into yours, each thrust sending waves of heat through you. The kiss was possessive, his tongue claiming yours with the same hunger that burned between you both.

As he pushed deeper, his rhythm becoming relentless, you felt a broken cry escape from you, a mixture of pleasure and raw emotion that you couldn’t hold back. His eyes, dark with desire, caught yours, and for a moment, you saw something deeper than just lust—something primal and protective, something that made your heart race in a way you couldn’t explain.

"You’re so fucking beautiful, honey." he whispered against your lips, his voice rough with the same need he’d been building in both of you. “My wife is so fucking beautiful.” 

His hands moved to your hips, pulling you impossibly closer as he thrust deeper, pushing you to the brink, your cries turning into soft whimpers as your body was caught in the storm of sensation. It felt so good, it always has been.

The deeper he is, the deeper the pleasure fills you. The more you cry out and moan. The more he tries to defy the possibilities, thrusting deeper to fill you more and more.

The tears that pricked the corners of your eyes weren't from pain—no, it was something more complex, something that left you breathless. It was the weight of the connection, the force of his touch, and the emotional release that you hadn’t expected.

All combined into something that made your chest tighten with overwhelming feeling. You cried because he was inside you in every way, not just physically but emotionally, each thrust deeper, each kiss harder.

Kento pulled away slightly, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek, his breath hot against your face. His eyes softened for a moment, but the hunger in them never dulled. 

"You’re mine, only mine, wife." he breathed, his voice low but full of meaning, before kissing you again, harder this time, as though proving to you what he’d just spoken.

The kiss deepened as he pulled you even closer, his body pressing against yours with a fervor that made your entire being hum with raw need. You could feel every inch of him, every movement of his muscles, and it was as if the world had disappeared entirely, leaving just the two of you tangled in this electric, consuming moment.

His thrusts became more forceful, each one driving deeper, pushing you to the edge of something wild and uncontrollable. Your nails dug into his back, clinging to him for support as his mouth moved from yours, trailing down your neck, biting and sucking as he marked you, claiming you completely.

"Don't hold back, honey." he murmured against your skin, his breath ragged. "Let go for me. I need you to feel this... all of it."

You couldn't hold back, not anymore. Not even if anyone was to hear outside. You didn’t feel bad about being this loud because it was your pleasure. About the pleasure he was giving you. He was making you feel good and you wanted him to know it. 

“Good baby, my good little wife. Take me. Take me whole.”

His words hit something deep inside, and you cried out, your voice a broken whisper as your body surrendered fully to him, to the pleasure, to the overwhelming emotions that swirled inside you. His name escaped your lips in a desperate, breathless moan, and the sound seemed to spur him on, his pace quickening as he met you with relentless urgency.

Each thrust pushed you further into a frenzy of sensation, and the pleasure that had once been distant now consumed you completely. The tears that had been building in your eyes spilled over, not from pain, but from the intensity, from the way his body moved with yours in perfect rhythm, from the way he made you feel so utterly seen, so completely his.

Kento’s hand moved to your face, his thumb gently swiping at the tears on your cheek, a tender touch amidst the feverish passion. His eyes softened for just a moment, but then they hardened with desire as he kissed you again, his tongue tasting your lips, your moans swallowed by the deep kiss.

"You're everything to me, honey." he growled, his voice barely audible between breaths. "And I’ll make sure you never forget that."

His words, the way his body pressed into yours, the way his hands held you so firmly. It all built up to something so deep, so visceral that you couldn’t tell where your body ended and his began. Everything inside you snapped, the waves of pleasure crashing over you in a rush, leaving you breathless and shaking in his arms. 

Your cries were mingled with his own as he lost himself in the moment, the sound of skin against skin filling the small space as you both gave in to the release, the powerful culmination of everything that had been building between you.

As the waves of pleasure slowly subsided, leaving both of you breathless and spent, the quiet hum of the room returned, only now it felt like a distant memory compared to the electric tension between you. You both lingered in the aftermath, bodies still pressed together, hearts racing in sync. 

Your breath was ragged, your fingers tracing the sweat-slick skin of his back, grounding yourself in the sensation of him still so close. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustling of your clothes and the echo of your breaths.

But just as you began to collect yourself, a sound broke the stillness—a soft thud of footsteps, followed by the faint murmur of voices. Your heart skipped a beat as the realization hit. Your boldness had gotten inflated by sanity. 

You both hadn’t noticed the soft creak of the door, hadn’t heard the hushed conversations approaching. And then, before either of you could react, the door was pushed open, revealing the clan wives, standing in the doorway, eyes wide with shock, mouths agape.

Kento’s gaze flickered to the doorway, but when he saw the surprised looks on their faces, he didn’t flinch, didn’t move away. He stayed right where he was, his hands still possessively on you, his lips curled into a confident, unbothered smirk. He looks at you, mesmerized by you. By his want for you. Nothing else mattered. Decency, rules, proportionality — they’re done when he makes love to you.

Yet when you looked at him. Nothing else mattered. You too also didn’t care now. A sense of defiance rose within you, the fire from before still burning strong. Without a second thought, you pulled Kento closer, your hands grasping his face as you tilted your head up to meet his lips. The kiss was fierce and unapologetic, claiming him fully in front of everyone who dared to look.

You pulled away slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes, your voice low but steady, a possessive edge coloring your words. "You're only mine, hm? Forever, baby." you whispered, your fingers gently tracing his jawline as you met his smirk.

His gaze softened for a moment, his lips curling into a grin that sent a shiver down your spine. "Always, honey." he replied, his voice a low rumble that held all the certainty in the world. “Forever.”

The clan wives stood frozen once again, caught between disbelief and curiosity, but neither of you acknowledged them again. You didn’t need to. Kento's words, and the way he held you, told them everything they needed to know.

You were his, and he was yours.

Forever.

[lilacmingi]

SECOND CHANCES

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. And please don’t spam-like!

Pairing: Best friend!Yunho x fem reader (feat. Mingi)

Word count: 13,600

Note: I’ve written yet another imagine that’s 10K+ words oopsie. This one is a best friends to lovers because 1. Yunho fits it SO well and 2. I’m a sucker for that trope 🤧

The savory scent of meat being seared over an open grill wafted in the air, making your mouth water, the sizzle of the pork like music to your ears.

"Make sure you get a good char on it, Yunho." San mentioned, leaning over the table a bit.

Said man, seated beside you, nodded and flipped the pieces of pork over the grated surface. "Got it."

Mingi had invited you and the other guys out for dinner, not giving much of an explanation as to why, but none of you were one to turn down an invite to go eat, so you all agreed to meet up at a Korean BBQ restaurant.

Seated next to Mingi was his girlfriend whom he had been with for a year and a half. She was really sweet and fit in with the friend group well. There was only one teensy problem—you had a massive crush on Mingi.

Seeing him shoulder-to-shoulder with her made your stomach twist, even now after a year and a half. It was devastating when he first announced that he had met someone. Of course, you put on a happy face and pretended to be excited, but on the inside you felt sick. Yunho, one of the boys that you were closest with in the friend group, knew how you felt about Mingi and comforted you when you needed it. It was hard on you at first, but eventually got easier. His girlfriend was introduced to the group and it was impossible to dislike her, especially since none of what was happening was her fault. No one knew you liked Mingi, except Yunho.

The only silver lining in the whole situation was the possibility of them breaking up someday. It was a horrible thing to think, especially since the two of them got along like two peas in a pod, but a small part of you hoped one day it would happen.

"Y/n, you wanna have first taste?" Yunho's voice pulled you from your daze, a piece of beautifully-grilled pork held in front of your face between a pair of tongs.

Blinking yourself back to the present, you put on a smile, ignoring San's whining and complaints about not getting to have first bite as you took the piece between your teeth.

"Mmm!" Your eyes brightened at the flavors and you nodded approvingly.

"Alright." Yunho beamed, his heart flipping at the expression on your face. "Pork is done. He announced, placing each piece onto a plate for serving.

You picked up your chopsticks and started taking portions from the bowls and plates of various dishes spread along the table. Leaning forward a bit, you attempted to reach for a bowl of your favorite dish, your chopsticks not quite reaching their intended destination.

"I'll get it for you." Yunho cut in, stretching his much longer arm across the table, grabbing a few bite-sized portions of it and placing it onto your plate.

"Is that enough or would you like more?"

"That's enough for now. Thank you." The eye smile you gave him in return made his chest fill with warmth, a shy grin making its way onto his face.

"Is there any kimchi over there?" Wooyoung asked, peering down the table.

"Right here." Yeosang responded, pointing with his chopstick.

"Can you pass it to me?"

"No."

"Please? I'll do aegyo for it."

At that, Yeosang grabbed the small bowl and immediately passed it down to Wooyoung, who seemed mildly offended at his friend's quick jump to action.

"Why'd you react that way?" He asked with a frown.

"I'm not putting anyone here through that."

The table erupted in scattered laughter and chuckles at the playful jab from Yeosang. Things were often like this with the boys; lots of goofing around and teasing one another. It was one of many reasons why you liked having them as your friends.

Throughout the meal, the group talked amongst themselves, reminiscing on memories of the last time you all got together as well as general talk of how delicious the food was. The plates had long been emptied and the afternoon was coming to a close when Mingi cleared his throat, standing from his chair. Everyone's attention was turned to him as he opened his mouth to speak.

"So there's a reason why I invited you all out tonight." He rubbed his palms anxiously over his upper thighs. "I wanted you all to be here for this."

You watched as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a black velvet box, your eyes widening. Mingi then turned to his girlfriend and pushed his chair aside so he could get down on one knee.

"I know we've been dating for a year and a half now, and that might not seem very long for some people, but I've been thinking about this for a while and I can't stand the thought of not spending the rest of my life with you."

Suddenly, all the food you'd eaten felt like it was going to come back up, your stomach churning with an uneasy feeling that only got worse as the next words left his mouth.

"Will you marry me?"

Mingi's girlfriend had her hands over her mouth in shock, the typical reaction of a proposee. She nodded her head, muffled joyous giggled leaving her before she pulled her hands away and held Mingi's face, leaning in to kiss him.

You felt like you were gonna be sick.

As much as you tried not to watch, you couldn't tear your eyes away when Mingi plucked the glimmering ring from it's box and placed it onto her trembling hand.

That was the icing on the cake, the final punch to the gut.

Everyone clapped, cheering for the couple and it took everything in you to play along as an unsavory wave of emotions hit you, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. It wasn't jealousy. Well, maybe it was a little jealously, but for the most part it was guilt and longing. Guilt for never trying to spend more time with him or hint at how you felt.

Yunho seemed to take notice of your artificial reaction, knowing how you felt about Mingi. He frowned, leaning in a bit before whispering under the clamor of celebration, "Are you okay?"

You forced a tight smile while nodding, attempting to be blasé about the whole situation, but Yunho knew better.

His expression turned melancholy, eyes drooping with the corners of his mouth.

"Y/n, it's okay. I understand."

"I'm fine." You kept that same strained smile plastered on your face, a fallacious facade that seemed not to raise suspicions with anyone except Yunho.

Despite the chipper uptick in your tone, he knew you weren't well and that watching the proposal unfold had done a number on you emotionally, stirring up lingering feelings that hadn't gone away even after all these years.

He watched as everyone said their goodbyes and you gave Mingi and his new fiancé well wishes, his heart clenching at the sight. He knew it was killing you inside to be doing that. Lingering by the entrance of the restaurant, he stopped you on your way out.

"You wanna go somewhere and talk about it?"

He had always been a shoulder to cry on when you needed it and despite how much it hurt him to see you so attached to Mingi, he refused to leave you hanging.

You shook your head, declining his offer. "Thanks but I think I just wanna go home."

He nodded, pushing away the dull ache of disappointment. "I understand. Just let me know if you need anything—and I mean anything, okay?"

"I will. Thanks, Yunho. You're a good friend."

He winced imperceptibly at the stinging words that felt like a slap to the face. But that's all he was to you, right? A friend.

"Of course. Anything for you."

Three years. You wasted three years secretly and silently crushing on Mingi, too afraid to speak your feelings. And half of that time, he was in a relationship. If only you could've been brave enough to say something. It's all you could think about on the drive home. Wasted time.

Speaking of wasted time, the remainder of the day was spent binging shows and YouTube videos—any media that would occupy your attention span and take your focus off the events of that evening. It worked... for a little while. Even a hot shower didn't do the trick. It just gave you a quiet space to ruminate on what had happened.

As you lied down in bed that night, you stared at the ceiling and memorized the shadows the moon casted on its textured surface, your brain too awake to get you to the point of rest.

"It's out of your control." You whispered under your breath, closing your eyes.

The words were repeated in your head as you focused on your breathing, willing yourself to forget about it for the night in favor of some needed sleep. Eventually, the mantra faded out and you slowly drifted off.

The next day you couldn't shake the heavy feeling in your chest. It was unpleasant and no matter how hard you tried to distract yourself from it or push it away, it always came back.

What you needed was to get out of the house, get some sunlight, maybe even indulge in a little retail therapy.

You somehow managed to get out of your slump long enough to get ready and head out, walking down the street with your headphones shoved into your ears, using music to drown out your thoughts.

A quaint thrift shop with cozy-looking stained glass lamps and porcelain vases in the window caught your attention, slowing you to a stop. Printed in a vintage font on a sign were the words, Utopia Antiques. You always did like thrift shops and secondhand items so you decided to check out the place and scope it out.

The bell hanging above the door jingled at your entry and an elderly man behind the counter lifted his gaze from an old brass pitcher in his hands that he appeared to have been examining. He pushed his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, acknowledging you with a smile.

"Hello, young lady."

"Hello." You greeted him.

"Is there anything in particular I can help you find today?"

"No. I'm just browsing."

"Well, there's lots to browse." He smiled warmly, vaguely gesturing to the shelves of knickknacks and tchotchkes. "Take your time."

Moving further into the shop, your wandering eyes perused the various items lined up. There were small carved wooden chests, old jewelry boxes, and vintage metal signs. As you headed towards the back of the shop, a particular item grabbed your attention, standing out amongst the others; a bronzy gold hourglass glinting under the fluorescent lights. You carefully brought the item down off the shelf, examining it briefly before lifting the little tag tied to it. The price written was a little steep, perhaps slightly more than you would've liked to pay for it, but there was something about the hourglass that drew you in. It was beautiful and the design of it was eye-catching. You carried it around the shop with you until you were ready to check out.

"Oh. Very interesting." The man marveled when you placed the hourglass onto the counter. "This just arrived a couple days ago. It was found on a old ship, y'know."

"Really?" You inquired.

"Mhm. I receive items from many places. Auctions, old homes, old mansions, and on occasion, ships. I also pawn."

"Was that brass pitcher I saw you with earlier one of those things?"

"As a matter of fact, it was. Someone brought that in just a few minutes before you came in."

"Everything here looks like it's taken care of." You gestured to the many shelves lined with knickknacks.

"Oh, yes. I clean and polish everything I receive and I only take things I deem to be valuable. No junk here." He chuckled gruffly, removing the paper tag tied to the framing of the hourglass.

Your eyes wandered around the shop's interior again before landing on the man, who was pressing buttons on the register. He adjusted his glasses and turned to you with a smile, giving you the total.

Once the transaction was complete, he wrapped some old newspaper around the hourglass to keep it cushioned before bagging it, dropping your receipt in with your purchase.

"Thank you so much." You put on a friendly grin, carefully taking the bag from him.

"Have a nice day, young lady."

"Thank you. You too." You gave the shop owner a small wave and made your way out the door.

You left the antique shop feeling a bit better and the brief but pleasant conversation you shared with the man running the small business was a nice distraction from your turbulent thoughts. And the hourglass you bought would make a nice addition to your desk space in your bedroom or even on a shelf. You'd have to decide later.

You weren't exactly ready to go home just yet, as you hadn't been out of the house for too long, so you stopped by a small cafe and bought yourself a beverage. Sometimes a little treat helped when you were feeling down and this one certainly did.

While walking around town, you sipped on your drink and stopped in a few local shops to peruse, but didn't find anything that was particularly interesting or worth purchasing.

The low noise of the air conditioner greeted you as you stepped past the threshold of your home, your new purchase clutched in your hand. Kicking the door shut, you headed into your bedroom, tugging off the plastic bag and removing the newspaper from around the hourglass. Your eyes scanned one of the bookshelves in your room, trying to figure out the right place for your new item.

Even after your retail therapy, you couldn't shake the feeling of regret that weighed heavily on your shoulders and in your chest, part of you feeling like there might've been a possibility that you'd be the one Mingi proposed to if you'd done things differently.

Your gaze moved down to the hourglass, your fingertips rubbing along the curved, brassy gold bars that surrounded the sand-filled glass bulbs like a protective cage of sorts. You absentmindedly traced the shape of it while wondering what it might've been like to be proposed to by Mingi. To be the one he couldn't bear to live the rest of his life without. A heavy exhale left you as your fingers came rest at the peak of the hourglass. Without thinking much of it, you turned it, watching as the granules of sand shifted inside with the gravity and began slipping through the narrow neck and into the bottom bulb.

It was a little early to go to bed, but you didn't feel like doing anything other than sleeping, so you set the hourglass in an empty space on your shelf and went through your nightly routine.

It was almost ridiculous how much this whole engagement thing had affected you.

You should've done more instead of being scared. You should've tried harder, maybe even confessed your feelings. You might've had a shot if you'd just done something besides silently admiring him.

Closing your eyes, you let out an exhale, forcing your muscles to relax. There was nothing that could be done. What happened happened and there's no redoing it. No second chances. You'd just have to get over it and move on.

As you drifted off to sleep, the last grains of sand slipped through the narrow neck of the hourglass and it began to glow.

A soft, drowsy murmur escaped your lips as you slowly returned to the waking world. Cracking open your bleary eyes, you were met with the sight of a different set of sheets—ones you used to have on your bed, but had since changed. With furrowed brows, you rubbed your eyes as they adjusted to the daylight and you looked around your room. The decor was different. Posters you'd replaced quite some time ago were hanging back up and knickknacks you'd either boxed up or sold were sitting on your shelf.

My room hasn't looked like this in nearly... two years.

You froze, fully awake and alert now. Scrambling for the cell phone on your nightstand, you looked at the date as the screen lit up.

"No." You murmured, opening up the calendar app to get a more precise time only to have your heart drop to your feet.

This had to be a dream, right? There was no way you were in the past. Your fingers came up to pinch yourself on the upper arm harshly but all you did was yelp when a sharp pain stung the area.

Your head was spinning, chest tight, hands trembling. You were two years in the past.

At this point, you were seated upright in bed, gripping handfuls of your hair in a stressed manner. How? How did this happen? Was it a wish? Some strange miracle? Something in your mind clicked into place and suddenly it made sense.

The hourglass. You turned it just before going to bed.

Your hand came up to clutch your chest, your erratic heart rate thumping against it, reminding you of just how shocking this all was to you.

Once again, you snagged your phone, checking the date again, realization dawning on you. It was exactly a month before San's birthday. As you recalled, San had a party at the bowling alley, which is where Mingi ended up meeting his fiancé.

Were you perhaps getting a do-over?

If that was the case, you had a month to spend more time with Mingi before he met his future fiancé. You could do things differently this time. You could win over Mingi.

Your phone pinged in your hand and you glanced down at it to find a text notification from Yunho. He and Mingi were going to grab coffee and he wanted to know if you'd like to tag along. This happened exactly as you remembered it, though last time you said no and opted to stay home. Since you originally declined the offer, you chose to say yes this time, sending a quick response to Yunho before getting ready.

You arrived at the coffee shop, riddled with both nerves and excitement. You were getting a second chance.

The warm and welcoming aroma of rich coffee greeted you when you stepped into the cafe. Yunho and Mingi were already there, seated at a table by one of the large windows at the front of the establishment. They both waved your over with bright smiles.

"Didn't expect you two to get here so quickly." You commented while reaching to pull a chair out, but before you could, Yunho had done it for you. "Ah. Thank you." You lowered yourself into the seat. "Anyway, I hope you two weren't waiting on me."

"We haven't been here long." Mingi said, taking a sip of his iced americano. "Maybe five minutes."

"Good."

"I went ahead and ordered for you, Y/n." Yunho spoke up, sliding a cup towards you. "This is your favorite, right?"

Your brows raised and a small smile pulled at your lips.

"No, she likes plain coffee." Mingi chimed in before you could utter a single word.

You reached out to pull the cup closer to you. "It is this one. Thanks, Yunho."

He returned your small smile as you took a sip, humming softly at the flavor.

"This hits the spot."

Your eyes lingered on Mingi, taking in his sharp facial features before moving down to check out the rings on his fingers. "I like your rings."

"Oh." He stretched his digits apart to show off the jewelry adorning them. "Thanks. This one here is new." He pointed to one on his right index finger, a chunky silver ring with a square black stone on it.

As he talked about his rings and where he bought them, you were completely locked in, hanging onto every word he said. Unbeknownst to you, Yunho was doing some staring of his own, his gentle eyes full of longing as he gazed upon you, watching the way your own eyes twinkled in interest as Mingi went on. You were so enamored and Yunho could only wish you'd look at him that way.

"I've got my eye on one with a skull on it. It looks pretty cool." Mingi finished.

"Oh." You nodded enthusiastically.

"That color looks really good on you, Y/n." Yunho spoke up, grabbing your attention.

You glanced down at the top you were wearing and smiled at his compliment.

"It brings out your eyes." He added.

"Oh. Thank you." You let a tiny giggle slip out, flattered by his sweet words.

The three of you chatted and sipped on your drinks, enjoying each other's company. You were a lot more talkative with Mingi and really put forth an effort to engage in conversation, even going as far as lightly touching his shoulder while laughing, hoping to drop a hint. You weren't that way with him before, but since you were getting a chance to change things, you were doing everything you possibly could to show interest.

"And then Wooyoung nearly got sick after the roller coaster." Yunho finished through laughter, recalling a memory from the year prior when you all took a group trip to the amusement park.

"Yeah, he vowed to never eat funnel cake again after that." You cackled, dabbing away the tears at the corners of your eyes, letting out a long exhale as the laughter slowly died down. "That was a good day."

"It was." Mingi nodded. "I remember you tried so hard to win that cat plushie from the ring toss. What did you end up naming it? Pickles?"

"It was a dog plushie named Puddles because you said his brown paws looked like he'd been running in mud puddles." Yunho recollected with a small smile.

"Yeah, that's it." You nodded, grinning widely.

"Ah, that's right. Though I could've sworn it was a cat." Mingi murmured, shrugging.

"Do you still have Puddles?" Yunho asked.

"I do."

During your time together, you noticed Mingi wasn't as engaged as Yunho was. He made a few comments, adding to the conversation here and there while Yunho did most of the talking, bringing up different topics and speaking with such enthusiasm.

"I can take everyone's empty cups." He offered after noticing everyone had finished their drinks.

"Thank you." You handed your trash over to Yunho, watching for a moment as he walked to the garbage can near the cafe entrance.

"This has been nice." You commented, turning to Mingi with a small smile. "It was a good way to start the day. And thanks for buying coffee."

"Oh. I didn't pay for it. I bought my own."

Your brows raised a bit just as Yunho returned to the table, reclaiming his seat.

"You bought my coffee?"

His eyes widened slightly. "Yeah."

"Thank you. You're always doing stuff like that."

It was true. He often bought things for you like a meal or something to drink, always offering to cover the cost of something when you two hung out.

He chuckled softly. "I just like to take care of my friends."

The brief time you spent with Yunho and Mingi at the coffee shop was enjoyable, but you hadn't made much progress on your plan to pursue your crush. Despite engaging in conversation with Mingi, you still felt like you could've done more.

Instead of worrying, you pushed aside your concerns and reminded yourself that you still had almost a full month to change things. You had time.

Just a few days later, Hongjoong texted the group chat and asked if everyone was free to get together later that evening and check out a new restaurant in town. You remembered when this first happened and it was a fun night, in fact, Seonghwa ended up drinking a little too much, but you were hardly able to speak to Mingi due to being seated father away from him. You'd be sure to change that this time around—and maybe you'd advise Seonghwa to watch his soju intake.

You stepped into the restaurant to find Jongho, Hongjoong, and Seonghwa seated on a bench in the entryway of the establishment, likely waiting on the others.

"Hey!" Jongho greeted enthusiastically.

"Hey guys." You moved to take a seat on the bench beside him.

"So, how long has this place been in business?" Jongho asked Hongjoong, looking around at the interior.

"About a month. I've seen really good reviews online. I hear the jjigae is good, lots of people were recommending it."

"Did someone say jjigae?" San's voice bellowed as he entered the waiting area.

A chorus of greetings rang out as he joined the group, falling into conversation easily.

After a relatively short wait, everyone had arrived and the group was brought to a large table. Trying not to make it obvious, you slid into the chair beside Mingi, ensuring that you'd get some time with him this time around. Yunho was quick to slip into the empty seat to the right of you, offering a tiny smile as he scooted his chair closer to the table.

"Something smells good." He mentioned, referring to the aroma food from nearby tables that lingered in the air.

"It does." You agreed, reaching for your menu to scan the list, deciding to order something different this time around.

"I'm definitely getting soju." Seonghwa announced. "Anyone wanna join?"

"Me." Jongho piped up.

"You might not wanna overdo it." You cautioned.

"I'll be fine." Seonghwa waved off your comment.

"Suit yourself." You murmured, turning your attention back to the menu, eyes scanning over the pictures and names on the laminated pages.

Yunho's gaze drifted to you while your attention was focused on deciding what to order.

"Your eye makeup looks really good today." He spoke up, voicing his inner thoughts aloud.

"Oh." You were surprised he noticed something like that. "Thank you."

"It's different than what you usually do."

"Yeah, it is. I wanted to try something new."

"Well, it looks really good."

His compliment gave your mood a little boost, making you feel giddy. It wasn't often a guy took notice of a change in makeup, though if anyone were to notice, Yunho definitely would.

Mingi caught wind of the conversation and turned to get a look at your eyeshadow.

"Let me see."

You moved your head and closed your eyes so he could check out your handiwork.

"Oh. It's nice." He hummed. "Very shimmery."

Mingi's compliment made you even more giddy than Yunho's did, your heart fluttering in your chest. Your smile grew as you thanked him, unable to hide how his words made you feel.

Your waitress for the evening came over and one-by-one, everyone placed their orders. Despite your warning, Seonghwa did ask for a couple bottles of soju. Maybe some things you couldn't change. He and Jongho clinked shot glass after shot glass, laughing and cutting up until the waitress returned with everyone's orders. Your mouth watered as she set down various dishes, the different savory scents mingling in the most wonderful way.

The conversations and chatter died down as everyone started stuffing their faces, preventing them from talking. The only vocalizations were hums of satisfaction.

"Let's take a picture." Wooyoung piped up after some time, retrieving his phone from his pocket.

You, along with some others that were in the middle of chewing, wiped your mouth, swallowing your food and turning to where Wooyoung stood with his device stuck out.

"Bring it in a little." He gestured to the group, so you'd all fit in the frame.

You immediately moved closer to Mingi, using it as an excuse to be near him. Yunho scooted his chair over a bit and leaned into you, catching you off guard. Brushing it off, you smiled as Wooyoung snapped a couple photos, instructing everyone to do a different pose. You readjusted your pose, doing a half heart and nudging Mingi who gladly completed the pose. Feeling something as simple as his fingers pressed against yours made your heart stutter in your chest. You flashed another smile and Wooyoing snapped a photo before sliding his phone back into his pocket, letting everyone get back to their food.

"Send that to me, Woo." San told his friend.

"Me too." Seonghwa piped up a little louder than he should have, his ears and cheeks red from the soju.

"I'll send it to the group chat." Wooyoung assured everyone while piling his plate with some of the side dishes spread across the table.

And you did receive those photos in the group chat later that evening when you returned home along with a few typo-filled text messages from Seonghwa telling Wooyoung how great the images turned out. You dropped down to sit on the edge of your bed, zooming in on you and Mingi in the snapshot, unable to stop yourself from admiring the way you two looked together, your mind wandering. In the photos sent, there were some taken when everyone was switching poses and that's when you noticed Yunho. His gaze was directed at you when you weren't paying attention, something about his eyes making you stare for a little too long at the screen. You had never seen Yunho look at you that way before and you couldn't pinpoint a word to describe it. You chalked it up to your over-analyzing mind and brushed away any observations for the time being.

You were seated on your bed, going through some of the things in your room that you hadn't seen in a couple years, reminiscing. It was still a strange concept, being there in the past and seeing all the things in your room that you'd long gotten rid of or sold.

Time traveling. It shouldn't have been possible and yet there you were, standing in your bedroom decorated just as it was two years prior, getting a chance to correct possibly the biggest mistake of your life.

Caught up in your thoughts, you almost didn't hear your phone chime to inform you of an incoming text message. Flipping the device over from its spot on your dresser, you saw a text from Yunho.

Yuyu

Mingi is coming over to hang out and play video games. You wanna come by?

That's right. Yunho and Mingi had a video game night and invited you to join, but you weren't feeling well last time and passed on the invite. That certainly wasn't going to happen this time around. Taking the phone, you typed up a response, letting Yunho know you'd be at his place shortly.

Yunho had everything set up by the time you arrived, pillows piled on his couch, a vast spread of snacks, and his game of choice loaded and ready to go.

"Wow." You applauded. "You pulled out all the stops for this hangout."

"When do I not?" He chuckled.

"Touché." You slipped your shoes off by the door and headed inside, dropping down onto the sofa.

"Go on. Make yourself comfortable." Yunho remarked in a teasing manner, making you laugh softly.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, taking in your appearance. "Are you wearing makeup?"

"A little."

"Ah." A knowing grin spread across Yunho's face. "You're wanting to look good for Mingi, is that it?"

A faint warmth tickled your cheeks.

"No." You denied.

Even if you were good at hiding your emotions, Yunho would be able to see right through you anyway. He knew you too well.

When Mingi arrived, you sat up a little straighter, subtly fixing your hair as he and Yunho greeted each other.

"Hey, Y/n." Mingi came into the living room, taking a seat beside you on the couch. "You gonna play video games with us?"

"I'm gonna observe for this game," You gestured towards the TV screen. "but I might join in when you guys decide to switch games."

"Well, let's not waste any more time." Yunho plopped onto the opposite end of the couch, grabbing a controller and starting the game.

You munched on some of the snacks Yunho had laid out on the coffee table, watching contently as your two friends moved their game characters across the screen, shooting at each other and collecting items along the way.

"Hey, hey, hey." Yunho laughed as Mingi's avatar rounded a corner where he was hiding.

Yunho narrowly escaped, only losing some of his HP in the process.

It was amusing to witness their playful banter and random outbursts during the few rounds they played. One of them would groan when they lost and the other would stand up to do a ridiculous victory dance that had you cackling.

The game was switched shortly after to one you were more willing to participate in—a classic racing game. A third controller was connected and the three of you started a round.

At some point, Mingi tried to sabotage you in the game, making you yelp out in surprise and struggle to regain your position in the race. In retaliation, you leaned over to bump his shoulder, hoping to throw him off.

"Cheater!" Mingi shouted, making you burst into a fit of joyful laughter.

"I'll give you something to laugh about." He knocked you harshly with his shoulder, a little grunt leaving you as your body jerked.

"Let's leave the sabotages in the game, huh?" Yunho spoke up lightheartedly, putting yours and Mingi's physical attacks to a halt.

After a few rounds of racing, the three of you started another multiplayer game, seated on the edge of the couch cushions in order to be closer to the TV screen to focus. You weren't sure how long you guys had gamed for, too engrossed in the moment to pay attention to the time.

"I think I'm gonna head home." Mingi announced, setting down his controller and stretching his long arms.

"You sure?" Yunho asked.

"Yeah, it's only 11 PM." You mentioned.

"I know, but I'm getting tired." He spoke through a yawn.

"Weak." You teased.

"Hey." Mingi chuckled. "Am not."

"Sleep is for the weak, my friend."

"At least I get sleep, unlike you." He poked your side, making you flinch away and laugh.

"He got you with that one, Y/n." Yunho chuckled, knowing how poor your sleeping habits were.

"Whose side are you on?" You asked, placing a hand over your chest in mock hurt.

He merely laughed while Mingi got to his feet, twisting to stretch out his tight back muscles.

"Alright. I'm heading out." He announced, fishing his keys from his pocket. "I'll see you guys around."

"See ya." You and Yunho waved as Mingi let himself out.

The room grew quiet after Mingi's exit, your foot tapping softly on the floor.

"You can stay longer if you'd like." Yunho extended the invite. "I'm not tired, so you don't have to worry about keeping me up or anything."

A smile pulled at your lips. "Neither am I."

"You wanna watch me play Valorant?"

"Sure."

Yunho had always been a huge fan of the game and played it often, sometimes with Jongho, who was also into the franchise. His fingers pressed around on the controls, picking up where he left off on his last game.

You readjusted your position on the couch, watching Yunho move around on the screen, scanning the area for any enemies.

"Anyone playing with you tonight?" You asked him.

"No, just bots. Jongho isn't online right now, which I'm kinda relieved about. I messed up last time and our team lost. I didn't hear the end of it for three days." He sighed, shaking his head.

You chuckled. "Yeah Jongho takes his gaming seriously."

"A little too seriously if you ask me. He wouldn't stop mentioning how I totally screwed our team over."

You chuckled softly, easily imagining Jongho teasing Yunho for days on end.

"Would you like to try?"

The offer was made after Yunho had played a round on his own.

"Oh. I'm not very coordinated with these kinds of games."

"You won't get better if you don't practice." He held the controller out, giving it a little flourish as if to tempt you.

"Alright, fine." You caved.

The Xbox controller was handed over and you held it, placing your thumbs on the joysticks.

"Okay so which button do I press to aim and shoot?" You questioned, wanting to get familiar with the controls.

"Left to aim, right to shoot."

"Got it." You positioned your index fingers over the trigger buttons.

"A is jump and B is crouch."

"Of course." You nodded, familiar with that setup already.

Using the joysticks, you moved Yunho's character forward, panning the area while he explained to you what the objective of the game was.

"There, there, there!" He pointed frantically at the TV screen. "That's one of your enemies."

"Okay. Okay." You squeezed the left trigger button and aimed before shooting only to miss. "Crap!" You hissed out in mild frustration.

Your thumbs moved to maneuver the character to a shielded area.

"I don't know what I'm doing." You huffed.

"Here. Let me help." Yunho readjusted himself, his long arms wrapping around your frame while his large hands came to rest over yours on the controller.

Your body stiffened imperceptibly at the sensation of his chest being pressed against your back and his arms caged around you. It felt oddly intimate and had your head spinning.

"You have to be quick about it." He spoke lowly due to his face being so close to your ear, which only made things worse.

You cleared your throat and nodded.

Yunho placed his thumbs on yours, making them push on the joysticks, guiding the character on the screen back out in the open.

"Aim." He pressed the left bumper, moving the joystick to center the target. "And shoot." He pressed the right bumper and the enemy fell to the ground. "See? Easy."

"Yeah. Easy." You blinked, swallowing thickly, trying to make sense of the emotions you felt.

It took you a couple days to get over the way being so close to Yunho made you feel. He had never done anything like that before nor had he ever done anything to warrant such a reaction from you. It was strange and different, but you managed to push past it.

It was finally time. A pivotal moment in this whole plan to change your past—the big weekend trip to Jeju Island. The whole thing was Jongho's idea as an early birthday present for San. The trip took place from July 6 to July 8, ending just a couple days before San's birthday. As you recalled from the first time, the youngest wouldn't stop bragging about how much better his gift was than everyone else's, claiming a trip was so much better than something like jewelry.

The group was split into two SUVs, four in one and five in the other. Your road trip buddies for the next few hours were Yunho, Mingi, Yeosang, and Seonghwa. Your excitement was barely contained as you were squeezed in beside Mingi in the backseat. He had shifted over when you got into the car, seated in the middle with you on the right and Yeosang on the left.

"I can't wait until we get there. Jongho showed me photos. The place looks awesome." Seonghwa spoke from the passenger seat.

"I can't believe he rented a house for the weekend. That makes my video game gift sound so lame." Yunho murmured, keeping his eyes on the road while he drove.

"He'll love it." You mentioned. "Trust me."

Mingi made himself busy, hooking his phone up to the Bluetooth in the car, dubbing himself the road trip DJ.

The five of you bobbed your heads, even singing along to some of the songs at the top of your lungs. A couple hours into the four hour road trip, you yawned, rubbing at your face to wake up.

"You tired?" Mingi asked quietly.

"Yeah."

"Here." He patted his shoulder.

"Are you sure?" You tried not to let your excitement show at his offer.

"Sure."

You leaned over and rested your head on his shoulder, mentally trying to convince your racing heart to calm down. This opportunity wasn't presented to you last time due to you being in Hongjoong's car with Jongho, San, and Wooyoung. Wooyoung and Jongho ended up snapping photos of you when you'd fallen asleep, leaving you to wake up to mischievous giggling.

Resting against Mingi's shoulder was nice and made you feel relaxed once you'd gotten used to it. It was much better than when you were with Wooyoung and Jongho the last time. You dozed off quickly, unaware of Yunho's gaze looking at the both of you in the rear view mirror.

The vacation home Jongho booked was a cozy four bedroom three bathroom accommodation. The only issue with four bedrooms was the fact that there were nine of you. Last time, you insisted on sleeping on the couch, which no one was okay with, but you convinced them to let you take one for the team. It was stiff and uncomfortable, so this time you weren't going to offer up yourself for taking the pullout couch and see what happened.

Everyone started checking out the place and calling dibs on different bedrooms, which is where the issue of rooming came about.

"I'd feel bad if Y/n slept on the couch." Seonghwa frowned.

"Me too." Yeosang agreed.

"Why don't we just do a random pairing? All the rooms are the same anyway." You offered up a fair compromise.

They all agreed and suggested a game to play to pair everyone up. Your heart was racing the entire time, silently hoping things would work out in your favor and you could room with Mingi.

As the game progressed and pairs started getting made, it seemed luck was on your side. That is until Mingi got paired with Jongho. You pushed aside your disappointment, knowing you'd have the weekend to spend some time with him.

"Okay. Yunho and Y/n. You two will room together. That leaves Yeosang for the couch." Hongjoong said.

Yunho. That wasn't so bad. He was the one you were closest with, so you weren't uncomfortable with that outcome.

"Alright. Yeosang gets the couch." Wooyoung grabbed his shoulders, giving them a squeeze.

Yeosang pouted and you almost caved, nearly offering to take the couch and repeat history, but you had to stay strong. Thankfully, Yeosang had no complaints.

Everyone started to get settled in, taking their duffel bags to their designated rooms, or in Yeosang's case, designated space.

You stepped into the room you and Yunho would be sharing, taking note of the king size bed. At least there'd be enough space for both of you, not that it would be a bad thing if there wasn't. Again, you were pretty close with Yunho and felt the most comfortable with him, so sharing a bed would be fine.

"We need some groceries for the weekend." Wooyoung mentioned while wandering the kitchen.

"Ramen is a must." Seonghwa piped up.

"And meat." Added San.

"Alright, so who's going?" Jongho asked.

"I vote Hongjoong." Wooyoung pointed to the second oldest who had made himself comfortable sprawled out on the living room floor with his eyes closed.

"No." He spoke from his spot on the hardwood.

"Two people should go." Mentioned Yunho.

"Well, there's only one way to settle this." Mingi held his fist up as a signal for them to start playing Rock Paper Scissors.

Since he was the one who suggested it, Mingi started the game and everyone put up a different hand sign, Hongjoong chose to participate right where he was.

Little by little, people started getting eliminated, clapping and celebrating when they found out they didn't have to go grocery shopping.

It was down to three people: you, Mingi, and Wooyoung. The last round was played. You and Mingi pulled paper and Wooyoung scissors.

"Yes!" He exclaimed, throwing his fists into the air in celebration. "Y/n and Mingi have to go grocery shopping."

Your eyes locked with Mingi's and you couldn't help but grin.

"I guess we should start making a list, huh?" He chuckled softly, pulling out his phone.

"Mingi, if you don't wanna go, I can do it." Yunho offered.

"I'm good. Y/n and I got this. Right?" He turned to you, holding out his fist.

"Yeah." You nodded, giving him a fist bump.

The boys started calling out different things and Mingi added each one to a list on his phone.

"Guys, we're only gonna be here for three days and I'm sure there are some nice local restaurants. Let's try not to buy too much." Seonghwa mentioned. "We just need a few things for when we want snacks or want to cook here."

The list was finally sorted out and you and Mingi left, headed to a nearby grocery store in the village you were staying in.

"The weather is so nice." You commented, enjoying the warmth of the midday sun and the light breeze that helped keep you cool.

"It is." Mingi agreed, pushing his hair back, that little action alone making your heart flutter.

You both made your way through small pathways that winded through the quaint village, running across a couple stray cats and a dog, stopping to pet them for a moment.

"Is this the place?" You asked Mingi, who was looking at his phone, using Naver Map to navigate.

"Should be." He lifted his gaze to look at the shop you were pouting to. "The map says we're here."

With that, the both of you headed inside and started shopping, grabbing a cart.

"Shin Ramen." You murmured, scanning the aisle of instant noodles. "Ah." You reached for a pack and tossed it into the cart Mingi was pushing.

"You should get two." He mentioned.

"Right. Seonghwa is there." You chuckled, referring to his big appetite, grabbing a second pack.

Rounding the corner, you headed down to the meat department and scanned the trays that were lined up.

"Everyone wants pork belly. Jongho said there's a grill outside." Mingi mentioned, grabbing a few packs. "Wow these look good."

"They sure do." You rubbed your hands together. "We should go get the alcohol next."

The group wanted to have a barbecue sometime during the weekend, so alcohol was a must. Half the group wanted beer and the other half soju, so you and Mingi stocked up. And, of course, since you were staying in Jeju, you bought some oranges.

Your arms were laden with plastic grocery bags when you and Mingi left the store. Mingi offered to carry the alcohol and drinks while you got the lighter stuff like ramen, meat, and other snacks. Getting back to the rental home was easy and once you returned, everyone perked up, excited to have some food.

Yunho was quick to jump up and help you out with the bags. "Here. Let me get those."

"Thanks." You smiled softly at his gesture.

The rest of the day was spent down at the beach, which was nearby. A couple towels were laid across the sand where everyone sat and enjoyed the fresh oranges that were purchased earlier. The citrusy flavor burst in your mouth like an explosion of fireworks as you gazed out at the ocean, your focus shifting to a screaming Wooyoung running along the shore away from Hongjoong, who was chasing him down. The sight made you laugh, watching in amusement, unaware that Yunho had pulled his phone out and was discreetly snapping candid photos of you. It might've been weird, but Yunho thought you looked so gorgeous and natural sitting near him, watching his friends chase each other. He was looking forward to spending some time with you this weekend.

Nighttime settled over the island of Jeju and a delicious meal was shared at the rental home. While grocery shopping, you and Mingi picked up a few bags of frozen dumplings and some tteokbokki, so that's what you had. While eating, plans were made on where to eat the following day as Yeosang and San scoped out local restaurants on Naver, checking out menus and whatnot. Cleanup duty was given to Jongho and Seonghwa after a lost game of Rock Paper Scissors, but of course everyone pitched in to help a little.

You stood in Yunho's room, donning your pajamas, all washed up and ready for bed. It had been a fun first day despite you having already lived it.

"Come on." Yunho patted the empty spot beside him. "You afraid to share a bed with your best friend?" He teased.

The question made your heart jump as the image of Yunho helping you play Valorant not too long ago flashed in your mind.

"No." You scoffed with a chuckle, crawling into the king size bed, making sure to leave a respectable gap between you and Yunho.

He offered the whole bed to you earlier when you were working out sleeping arrangements, but you insisted on just sharing the bed since it was so big. Besides, you didn't exactly want Yunho to sleep on the floor.

Snuggling into the pillow, you tugged the covers up a little higher and settled in.

"G'night, Yunho."

"Night, Y/n."

You dozed off quickly, all that walking and hanging out on the beach had worn you out.

You rolled over during the night, freezing when you heard steady breathing a little too close to you. In the dim moonlight shining into the room, you could see Yunho's face mere inches away, barely making out the shape of his nose and lips. It made your heart jump and you rolled back over, choosing to stay as you were.

You brought a hand up to your chest, feeling your thudding pulse beneath it. Why did that make you react in such a way? You didn't have any issues sharing a bed with Yunho, so why was your heart racing a million miles an hour? It was the same feeling you got when you played Valorant with him.

Sighing, you shook away the thoughts before you could spiral into an endless string of questions and internal analyzations. You were on a fun weekend trip with your friends, getting a second chance to change the future. You need not waste it.

The following day was spent checking out a local cafe for a light breakfast of coffee and baked goods, then you all did some sightseeing at a hiking trail, snapping photos and enjoying the warm weather. You walked close to Mingi nearly the whole time, chatting with him. You heart rate skyrocketed when he caught you after you misstepped and your ankle gave out. In addition to Mingi, Yunho also stepped in to help steady you, his eyes wide with worry.

"You okay?" Mingi and Yunho asked at the same time, their sentences overlapping.

"Yeah." You nodded. "I'm fine."

You rotated your ankle a bit, stretching it out before moving forward. Unbeknownst to you, Yunho started to walk closer, making sure you didn't misstep again or trip over anything.

That night, you guys went out for dinner at the restaurant the group decided on the previous night. They served classic Korean dishes that healed you from the inside out. Then back at the rental home, the nine of you played some card games which were provided by the accommodation.

The last day of the weekend trip arrived much quicker than anyone anticipated, but you all had two days full of fun and later that night was the scheduled barbecue, which would no doubt be fun—it was the first time.

Since it was the last day, you all took to the beach, walking in the waves and actually swimming this time.

Yunho's eyes followed your form as you headed into the water, laughing jubilantly when a wave splashed against your knees. The swimsuit you wore was so very you and the color complemented you so well. He couldn't tear his eyes away, standing at the edge of the shore where the waves laved the sand. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing on it while thinking back on the night you came over to play video games and how his stomach flipped when he was teaching you how to play Valorant. How your hands felt under his. Wooyoung came up and splashed you with water, making you squeal, which pulled Yunho from his thoughts. He chuckled softly to himself.

"Get back here!" You shouted at him, struggling to run through knee-high waves while splashing water towards the culprit.

He decided to join, assisting you in getting revenge on Wooyoung.

As the sun set over Jeju, preparations for the barbecue were being made. Jongho and Yunho were on grilling duty while you, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung were making ramen inside in the kitchen. San was known to be a pro at grilling, but he was the birthday boy and no one permitted him to help out. Yeosang kept him company on the couch, both of them playing a game together on their phones. Mingi and Hongjoong worked to set out chairs and a fold-out table in the backyard.

An entire family-sized five pack of Shin ramen was emptied into a pot of boiling water, the seasonings and dried ingredients being added in shortly after.

There were some leftover frozen dumplings so Wooyoung got to work pan frying them, wanting to use up the groceries that were purchased. At some point, Yunho stepped inside with a piece of pork belly between a set of tongs to feed San.

"Mmm!" He hummed.

"What about me? I'm working so hard in here." Wooyoung complained.

"You're not the birthday boy." Yunho said, sticking his tongue out before retreating outside.

It wasn't long before everything was done. The giant pot of ramen was set on a towel on the table outside, a couple plates of dumplings, and freshly-grilled pork belly lined the table. Jongho and Wooyoung came out of the house with armfuls of beer and soju, distributing them to everyone.

"Let's make a toast to San." Hongjoong held his can of beer up.

The birthday boy appeared flustered, smiling shyly. Everyone raised their drinks and did a collective cheers before taking a sip, or in Jongho and Yunho's cases, giant gulps.

"Geez." You laughed at Yunho, who was seated to your left.

"Ahh." He sighed out. "It's been too long."

Unfortunately, you weren't able to sit beside Mingi, but he was across from you, which was the next best thing.

"Everyone dig in." Seonghwa urged.

The meal was delicious, just as you remembered, but something about this particular time just felt better.

Jongho boldly insisted on playing a drinking game, to which everyone agreed to right away.

The night ended with a flushed San and Seonghwa singing loudly at the top of their lungs, swaying in their seats. Yunho was quick to join while Hongjoong opted to rest his head on the table. It was even funnier witnessing all this a second time, though things had gone a little differently than you remembered. It seemed like the choices you made thus far were already changing things.

The bowling alley had a decent crowd, exactly as you remembered it. The guys bought a big party package for the group which came with a few hours of bowling, one meal, and one round of soft drinks.

"I'm kicking all your butts." Jongho vowed, chewing a large bite of pizza, pointing at everyone.

"We'll see about that." San stretched his arms.

The game began shortly and since San was the birthday boy, he went first, successfully scoring a spare. You watched in amusement as everyone took their turn, some getting embarrassed about starting the round off with a gutter ball.

Jongho's declaration proved to be accurate, as he was the one currently in the lead after a few turns.

Mingi went up to bowl next, rearing back only to fumble and drop the ball. Your body stiffened as you watched the blue and white marbled ball roll along the glossy floors. This was when Mingi met the girl he proposed to. She stopped his ball when it rolled a couple lanes over. Jumping to your feet, you rushed to intercept the escaping sphere with your foot, successfully halting it. You spared a glance over your shoulder and saw her standing with two people a couple lanes over. You hid the triumphant smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth.

"Thanks, Y/n." Mingi flashed you a sideways grin and picked up his ball.

"Make sure you've got a tight hold on it next time, butter fingers."

"Hey!" He laughed.

"Just saying." You held back a chuckle, walking back to your seat beside Yunho on one of the cushioned booth seats.

Your shoulders brushed with his and you quietly apologized, something almost bashful in your tone. Since the Jeju trip, something was starting to become clear to you, or at the very least making itself known. You were developing a liking to Yunho that almost went past the title of friend.

You were quick to get pulled back into the game, laughing at some of the trash talk being shouted back and forth between the guys, cutting up with Yunho a bit and momentarily forgetting about your big mission. You hardly even noticed when Mingi stepped away to get a drink, that is until you caught a glimpse of him by a soda machine... talking to her.

That didn't happen last time.

Your heart sank to your feet. You tried to change things and he still ended up meeting her.

There was a bitter taste in your mouth and the rest of the evening proved to be difficult to get through, nausea twisting your gut every time you thought about Mingi or even looked at him.

"You okay?" The always-perceptive Yunho asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder that momentarily eased some of the tightness in your chest.

"Huh? Oh. I'm fine. I must've eaten that pizza too fast." You lied.

"You don't feel well?"

You shook your head.

"Do you need to go home?"

"I'm alright." You put on a smile, not wanting to ruin San's birthday party.

Yunho decided to let it go for the time being.

Later that night after you showered and changed into some cozy pajamas, you dropped down on the couch, hugging one of the pillows to your aching chest. The image of Mingi smiling and laughing with her flashed in your mind on loop.

You failed.

A lump formed in your throat as the crushing weight of defeat bared down on you. You were forcing yourself to keep the tears in, not wanting to cry over something so trivial. On the other hand, you got a second chance from some sort of magical hourglass from an antique store that was letting you try again. And you failed. How could you not be upset?

Just as you were about to give in and let the tears spill, your phone buzzed. You flipped the device over and saw Yunho's contact photo on the screen, a FaceTime call. Yet another thing that didn't happen last time.

You groaned, hoping you didn't look like you were close to tears, answering the call but keeping only the top of your head visible. Yunho was on his bed, his phone propped on his nightstand while he hugged a pillow, watching the camera, his face lighting up when you answered.

"Hey." He paused, his brows furrowed. "Why are you hiding?"

You couldn't think up a believable lie so you lowered the phone to where you were in frame, grateful to see that you looked just fine.

"Sorry." You murmured.

"I was just calling to check up on you. You didn't seem alright earlier at the bowling alley."

"I'm fine."

"Y/n, it's just you and me. You don't have to lie."

You sighed stubbornly, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"No. I saw Mingi talking to this girl by the drink machines earlier."

"So?"

"He likes her."

"How do you know?"

"I just do." You huffed, knowing you couldn't tell him the truth.

He took his phone from where it was propped, his face moving closer to the camera. "Do I need to come over?"

"No. I'll be alright."

You appreciated his concern, you really did, but you didn't want him to go out of his way to comfort you.

"Too late. I'm coming over. DoorDash is gonna be on its way soon."

You chuckled, knowing he wouldn't take no for an answer. If he wanted to do something, he'd do it. No ifs, ands, or buts.

Yunho arrived a short fifteen minutes later, pulling you into a hug as soon as you answered the door. Every muscle in your body relaxed instantaneously and your eyes closed while you allowed yourself to enjoy his embrace, finding that you liked being in his arms.

"I hope you're not feeling sick anymore, because I ordered your favorite delivery food." Yunho said, pulling away.

"I'm not. I'm actually feeling a little better." You nodded, smiling softly.

The food arrived shortly and Yunho took it upon himself to answer the door, insisting that you stay right where you were on the couch. He brought the bag to the living room, setting it on the coffee table and opening it up.

"This one's for you." He handed your food over.

You thanked him and took a bite, grateful that it didn't taste unpleasant or make you want to throw up. That was good news and meant your uneasy stomach had settled a bit.

"Maybe it won't go anywhere." Yunho spoke up, trying to ease your troubled mind.

"What?"

"Mingi and this girl you saw him talking to. Maybe he was just having a friendly conversation with her."

"No." You shook your head. "Trust me. They're gonna start dating."

"You sound so sure."

"That's because I am."

His brows knit together, his skepticism and puzzlement showing through his expression. You were grateful he didn't press any further and instead changed the topic to something lighter. It helped keep your mind occupied long enough to finish your food.

"Oh. I didn't even think about drinks. Would you like something?" You offered.

"Just a soda will be fine."

You went to get a couple cans and brought them back into the living room, sitting back down on the couch. You cracked open your drink and took a sip, setting it on the coffee table. Yunho followed suit, settling back against the cushions of the sofa.

"Thanks for coming over." Your lips twitched into a faint smile. "You didn't have to, but I appreciate it."

"I know I didn't. I just couldn't stand seeing you upset and wanted to check in."

"I just," You hesitated, wondering if you should even tell him. "I've been trying to spend more time around Mingi in hopes that he might end up developing feelings for me. It's obvious that didn't work."

"Y/n." Yunho frowned. "You can't make someone like you."

"Clearly not." You sighed. "I thought if I hung out with him more often then maybe he'd develop feelings for me."

Tears blurred your sight, which you were quick to blink away before any could fall. Yunho frowned, not missing the glossiness in your eyes.

"Sorry." You huffed out, frustrated that you let your emotions slip in front of him.

"No." He shook his head. "It's fine. You're upset."

You expelled a faint sight, nodding. Your eyes met Yunho's and you felt something stirring in your gut. A feeling you couldn't pinpoint. "Thanks for coming over."

He smiled. "You're welcome."

It was weird. His behavior was making you feel funny, but not in a bad way. In fact, it was pleasant. Did you like him or were you projecting your feelings for Mingi onto Yunho? Or maybe you were feeling vulnerable and the attention was confusing your emotions. You didn't know and it hurt your brain to think about.

Too caught up in your own head, you didn't realize Yunho was closer to you. When did that happen? His hands were shaking and he hoped you didn't notice, his breathing quick and shallow as his gaze stayed locked on yours. There was something he wanted so badly to do and was having an internal battle with himself on wether or not he should do it.

Now would be the perfect time.

He imperceptibly started inching closer without having made up his mind, but didn't get far when you perked up, sitting straighter.

"I've got it." You gasped. "I'll invite him out tomorrow and take him somewhere with a romantic atmosphere, but not too obvious."

"Oh." Yunho deflated a bit. "That's... great."

He didn't stay much longer after that, using the excuse that he was tired. Naturally, you didn't think anything of it, your mind focused on executing your final plan; a last-ditch effort to pull a confession out of Mingi.

You reached out to Mingi the following day and invited him to a local botanical garden to hang out. There was no time to waste. You had to make a move. He agreed, which was already a step towards you getting the ending you hoped for.

Just two days after San's birthday party, you were walking past butterfly bushes, colorful hydrangeas, and other eye-catching blossoms with Mingi, an iced coffee in your hand that was sweating under the summer sun. You sipped your drink quietly, watching the water lilies floating in one of the few small ponds littered about the garden.

"This is nice." Mingi hummed, pushing his sunglasses up his nose.

"Yeah. It is." You put on a small smile. "Thanks for agreeing to hang out."

"Of course." His silver rings glinted in the sunlight as he raised his plastic cup, taking another sip of coffee.

You'd been walking for a while and were only having surface-level conversations with him. It was making you antsy. No one was around. All the other people walking the garden weren't anywhere near you.

"Wanna sit down over there?" You asked, gesturing to a shaded gazebo surrounded by floral bushes.

Mingi nodded and mentioned something about needing a little rest. You sat down beside him, butterflies fluttering around the area, birds chirping in the trees. The atmosphere was perfect, but he hadn't said anything. You took in a breath, preparing to just spill your guts to him. If he wouldn't confess, then you would.

Before you could utter a word, he spoke.

"We've spent a lot of time together lately."

"Yeah. We have."

"I've had fun." His tone was genuine. "It's been nice getting out so much."

"Yeah it has. Maybe we can spend more time together." It wasn't a question, but a suggestion.

"I'd like that a lot. I wanna hang out with my friends as much as possible."

Friends.

Your feelings weren't reciprocated.

He sipped his coffee casually, as if he didn't just break your heart into a million pieces.

Wait. You blinked, puzzled. There wasn't a painful ache in your chest or a crushing feeling of defeat weighing on you. Why?

"You okay?" Mingi asked, noticing you got quiet.

You blinked again, staring off in the distance.

"Yeah. I'm perfectly fine, actually."

Was this closure?

That night, you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling of your bedroom, not knowing what would happen the following day. One thing you did know was that you weren't upset over Mingi essentially friend-zoning you. You didn't feel like the world was going to end nor did you want to cry. Closing your eyes, you found yourself relaxing, looking forward to what the next day might hold.

The sun hit your eyelids, disturbing your deep and peaceful slumber. A groan rumbled in the back of your dry throat as you rolled over, lifting your head sluggishly from your pillow. Your droopy eyes shot open when you noticed your bedroom's appearance and decor. It was current. You were back in the present.

As happy as you were to have returned to where you belonged, your mind wandered back to the fact that Mingi only saw you as a friend. Being aware of this, you started analyzing your interactions with him, picking up on all the times when he never really acted like he was into you romantically. Why didn't you see it? You were chasing after a dead end.

Mingi would've done certain things if he liked you. He would've remembered something simple, like your coffee order. He would've checked up on you if you were upset or invited you to hang out. If Mingi really liked you as more than a friend, he would've acted like it. In fact, he would've acted like—

You paused, your body going stiff as something clicked, like two live wires connecting and causing a spark.

Yunho. He would've acted like Yunho.

Like a tsunami, flashes of your interactions with Yunho flickered through you head like a slideshow. He remembered the name of a plushie you won years ago, he knew your coffee order and paid for it, he noticed when you did your makeup differently, he checked up on you, he ordered your favorite delivery food, he was always perceptive of your behaviors and moods. Little things he had done recently and in the past were coming to light and you were only just now realizing. Yunho liked you.

Your heart beat faster and faster as more details stood out to you. It made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, a giddiness making your stomach flip with excitement.

The blood suddenly drained from your face as something came to the forefront of your mind. Yunho liked you and you gushed about Mingi in front of him so many times, not knowing how he felt. That night he came over after San's birthday party, you cried over Mingi. You groaned into your pillow, feeling so foolish.

"Stupid." You muttered. "You're such an idiot."

Your phone chimed, prompting you to raise your head and reach for the device.

Yuyu

I know it's last-minute, but do you want me to pick you up?

We can go together if you want

His text confused you until you checked the calendar, surprised to find that it was the same day Mingi proposed to his girlfriend. Yunho didn't offer to drive you last time, which meant the choices you made in the past had effected the present. You then looked to the shelf where you'd stored the mysterious hourglass, finding that section to be completely bare. That's right. Technically, you hadn't bought it yet.

Pulling your focus back to your phone, you sent out a response, accepting Yunho's offer.

You straightened out your shirt, tucking it in and frowning when it didn't look right. You untucked it, not liking how that looked either. Finally, after some adjusting, you got your top fixed the way you wanted it. Just as you finished getting ready, your phone chimed with a text from Yunho letting you know he was at your place and waiting outside.

Getting into Yunho's car, there was a noticeable change in your emotions. You no longer felt the same comfort that you did prior. Instead, you were a little nervous. As if realizing your feelings for Yunho changed the way you interacted with him.

"Hey." You greeted almost shyly, buckling up.

"Hey." His eyes took in your outfit. "You look nice."

"Thanks." You glanced down at the outfit you spent far too long choosing, subconsciously thinking of looking nice for him.

The ride to the restaurant was quiet and you kept stealing fleeting peeks over at Yunho, silently admiring his side profile, from his pretty nose to his delicate pink lips.

When you got to the restaurant, you and Yunho sat in the same spots you did the last time. The rest of the group arrived, including Mingi and his girlfriend, and for the first time, seeing them together didn't make your stomach twist into knots.

Everyone placed their orders and things were going smoothly. Like last time, Yunho was the designated griller, flipping chunks of pork belly along the grated surface of the small grill at the table.

"First bite?" He asked you, holding out a piece with the tongs.

Your heart fluttered at his offer and you nodded, taking a bite. As you chewed, you realized he did that last time and wondered if it was because of his feelings for you. It was little things like that that slipped you completely, going unnoticed, but now that you'd figured it all out, you were more aware.

Yunho finished grilling the meat and everyone started to fix their plates. You did the same, but just like last time, you couldn't reach everything spread out across the table.

"Here." Yunho cut in. "Just let me know what you want and I'll get it for you."

The first time he offered, you just thought it was simply a polite gesture, but now it felt like more, filling you with the giddiness of a lovestruck teenager.

There was the usual teasing and chatter as everyone ate and even though you knew what was coming, you weren't worried. Only when the group was finishing up their meals did Mingi get to his feet. This was the big moment.

He went through pretty much the same speech as the previous time you experienced the whole proposal, except this time, you were smiling, watching with genuine happiness for the couple. Everyone applauded when Mingi slipped the ring on his now fiancé's finger.

As Yunho drove you home after an enjoyable meal, you asked if he could stop by the antique shop under the guise that you had been wanting to check it out. He agreed, celebrating inwardly about getting to spend a little extra time with you.

The old man from last time was at the front counter examining the same brass pitcher. You regarded him with a nod and headed down the aisles, your eyes scanning the shelves until you spotted the hourglass. It was there. Seeing it under the lights in the shop, shining like a beacon made everything you experienced real—not that you ever questioned it.

"Did you want something?" Yunho asked from where he stood at the end of the shelves.

"No." You responded, gazing wistfully at the hourglass before tearing your eyes away. "I just wanted to look around."

With that, you walked away and exited the shop, leaving the hourglass for another troubled person to find, hoping it brought them as much closure as it did you.

The drive back to your home was mostly quiet. You spent a good chunk of the short trip staring at Yunho again, your wandering gaze landing on his hands, watching the way he effortlessly drove with only one. It's as if recognizing your feelings for him suddenly made everything about him stand out and become attractive.

The vehicle came to a rolling stop in front of your home and Yunho shifted the gear into park. There was a part of you that didn't wanna leave yet. You had something you wanted to talk to him about and it had been in the back of your mind since you woke up that morning.

"I hope you're alright." Yunho mentioned, breaking the silence that hung in the air between you. "I know you liked Mingi a lot, even if you haven't talked much to him over the last couple years. You kinda distanced yourself a little after your hangout with him."

You had no recollection of what happened between that day and the present. All you knew was the past you actually lived through, which made you wonder if anything else changed. Things went almost the same way today as it did the last time you experienced it, so maybe not much had changed. It was interesting, however, to find out that you distanced yourself after Mingi essentially turned you down without knowing it. You could definitely see yourself doing that, especially after getting the closure you needed.

"I'm okay." You responded. "I'm more than okay. In fact, I'm starting to see someone else in a different light." You looked at Yunho, whose eyes got a little bigger at your words. "I owe you the biggest apology."

"An apology? Why?"

"You've been there for me so many times when I was upset and have allowed me to vent to you. I feel like I didn't acknowledge that enough. I'm sorry I never noticed it."

His expression softened. "You've thanked me many times in the past, so you don't owe me an apology, Y/n."

"No, I do." You took in a deep breath, releasing slowly. "I realized something."

"What?"

"I've been chasing after the wrong person. I was so caught up chasing after Mingi that I didn't pay attention to what, or rather who, was in front of me. Who was and is always there for me."

Yunho swallowed, shifting in his seat a bit as his heart rate increased. He didn't wanna get ahead of himself, but if this was going where he though it was, he was about to combust.

"All those times I talked about Mingi in front of you, I had no idea how you felt. I feel like such a jerk. If I'd known, I wouldn't have gushed about him in front of you." You picked at your nails anxiously before continuing. "And I know this feels like it's coming out of nowhere, but I like you, Yunho. It took a big event in my life to realize how I felt. Once I let Mingi go, I started to realize my feelings for you. I hope I'm not too late and haven't screwed things up by taking so long to figure it all out."

"You like me?" He asked softly, not quite believing it even though it's what he hoped to hear from you.

"Yes, I do."

"For how long?"

"I started having some feelings the night I was at your place and you were teaching me how to play Valorant. You put your hands over mine and my heart went crazy." Warmth tickled your cheeks as you recalled the memory that occurred not very long ago for you.

Yunho's ears and cheeks were pink when you finally looked at him.

"You're not too late." He finally spoke. "And you're not a jerk either. You didn't know how I felt and I wanted to keep it that way. At least until I got the courage to confess, but I didn't wanna say anything since you liked Mingi so much."

"I really am sorry."

"Don't be." Yunho started leaning over the center console a bit, which prompted you to do the same, your eyes dropping to his lips for a fleeting moment before darting back to his eyes.

"I really want to kiss you right now." He whispered.

"Go for it."

The narrowing gap between your faces diminished completely as Yunho pushed aside his inhibitions and kissed you. His lips were soft and warm, pressing firmly against yours. If there were any lingering Mingi-related thoughts in your mind, they would've been chased away immediately, being replaced with ones about Yunho and how you wanted to kiss him forever. Your already rapid heart rate skyrocketed when his large hand slid up the side of your face to cradle your cheek, taking up almost the entirety of the space there. His touch was almost as delicate as his kisses, his thumb lightly rubbing your cheek as his lips encased your bottom one before dragging over it. Suddenly, you were mildly agitated with the car's center console that was preventing you from getting closer to Yunho, who pulled away far too soon.

"Would you be my girlfriend?" He asked breathlessly, his cheeks flushed from the kiss.

"I would." A smile was barely contained as you responded, leaning in to kiss him, again frustrated by the console as your elbow bumped it in the process. You parted ways just enough to speak. "Do you wanna come inside for a bit?"

Yunho pulled his bottom lip between his teeth to hold back an exited grin, nodding before pulling his car keys from the ignition.

The both of you couldn't seem to move fast enough, getting out of the car and speed-walking to your front door where you fumbled with your keys. You barely had time to toss them into the glass dish in the foyer and shut the door before Yunho was pulling you back to him, his arms snaking around your waist to keep you close as he kissed you deeply.

It took buying an hourglass that sent you back to the past to get to this moment, which sounded completely bizarre, but you wouldn't have it any other way because it made you realize what you wanted had been in front of you the whole time.

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

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[thealbatrovss]

waiting // logan howlett x reader

summary: scott and jean get engaged. logan seems happy for them. but old insecurities start bubbling to the surface.

one shot: angstyyyyyy, insecure reader, happy ending of course, not proofread

word count: 1k+

authors note: getting back into writing so here’s a quick one for ya’ll. Enjoy!!!

masterlist

When he made his way towards her, with a big grin on his face, you had to get out of there.

You bumped past friends and colleagues, weaving through the bodies like a hedge maze. The room closed in. Your stomach was raging with alcohol and fire.

It was so childish. Running away from your friend's own engagement party. This night was about them, not you.

But, Logan wouldn't stop talking about how happy he was for them since they made the announcement. You were happy too. Of course you were. They were like family to you. But, was he really content with everything? Sometimes, thoughts that he was settling would cloud your mind.

You’d only been dating for little over a year now, and well, Jean was still Jean. The Jean he loves. Or loved. It was becoming too hard to tell, your head starting spinning.

The night air hit your face. It was cold, too cold to be out at a time like this. But at least there was space. Space to hold yourself on the mansion's steps and think about everything swirling in your mind.

You knew holding her up on this pedestal wasn’t fair to her, to Logan and especially yourself. But sometimes, wounds that were once sealed up and packed away, came around visiting again.

He spent years harboring feelings for her. You just stood there and watched it. Until one day, you were grabbing a late night snack from the kitchen and saw Logan sitting at the table.

And he was no longer sulking. No longer chasing after someone who was always going to pick someone else. He smiled, and told you to sit and have a beer with him.

It wasn’t an odd request. You too were friends after all. But, you ended up spending the entire night talking. You asked him about his past and he was completely honest. He asked you about yours, barely ever looking away from you as you rambled on. Logan had a soft smile on his face the entire time you talked.

The two of you moved closer together as the night progressed into the early morning. By the time students began pouring in for breakfast, your chairs and shoulders were touching. He walked you to your room that day, asked you out to dinner. You had your first date at a bar. Jalapeno poppers and chicken sandwiches. The waiter accidentally spilt his tray of drinks on Logan trying to squeeze through the aisle.

When Logan kissed you for the first time in his car, you could feel the sticky drinks stuck to his leather jacket and skin.

The door creaked open behind you. Footsteps stopped at the steps above. You could smell that familiar wood and cigar smoke. It has stuck to you ever since that night in his car. “Its fucking freezing out here.”

You brushed away a fresh well of tears, hoping they’d dry quickly so he couldn’t tell. “You’re right about that.” You sniffed. But it was your voice that gave it away.

“Whats going on?” He sat down next to you. “Could you look at me?” He moved your hair away from your face, fingers grazing the wet skin. He paused. “Can you please talk to me? Why are you crying?”

You tried brushing his hand away, making yourself smaller against the stone wall. You pushed the side of your face into the rock, like it would magically make you disappear.

“I can’t help you if I don’t know whats going on.”

“I’m just drunk.” You tried to play it off. Not good enough.

Logan shook his head. “No. That's bullshit. You’ve been acting weird all day.”

The air kept getting colder. You started shivering. Logan cursed underneath his breath, taking his jacket off and draped it over your shaking shoulders. The simple gesture made you feel even smaller. “Do you ever wish things could be different?”

Logan looked at you confused. “What kinds of things?”

You sat up, knees facing away from your boyfriend. “The people you let into your life.”

“No.” He answered quickly. “I only let in people who let in me. Like you.” He smiled at the memory of spilt beer and messy kisses in the parking lot. “So no. Why? Do you?”

You huffed. “I find that hard to believe and I hate myself for it.”

Logan sat there bewildered. You’d always been open and honest with him about everything. You even opened up to him about your insecurities surrounding his relationship with Jean the first few months into dating. The realization washed over him as he watched the party goers mingle inside. “You still think I have feelings for Jean.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

The wind picked up, sending its sharp claws against your wet cheeks. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“No. I just don’t understand.” He sighed. “Why would you think that? I’m with you. I wouldn’t be if I didn’t want to be.”

The drinks settling in your stomach did the talking for you. “Well, if she wasn't with him things would be a lot different, wouldn’t they?” Your tone was as cold as the wind. You didn’t mean it to be.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You gripped his jacket tight around you. Holding onto it like you did when you first kissed. “Sometimes, it’s hard to accept your love.”

He didn’t respond, just let you continue. His hand started rubbing circles on your back.

“I feel like I’m taking something that isn’t mine.” Maybe if you were sober you could explain it better, but you carried on. “Or, I’m just holding my breath. Waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

You’d feel more embarrassed without the alcohol running through your veins. But you sat there as tall as you could. Letting the insecurities bubble out in circles of angry shades of red. It wasn’t pretty, but it was real. It was what you’ve been bottling up for years now. “Waiting for it to go to its true destination.”

Logan looked up at the night sky. The wind ruffled his short hair. He looked so handsome in that all black suit he wore. One that you picked out just for him. He chuckled to himself, his eyes finding yours with a piercing gaze. He faced those words, seeing past the surface.

“I loved Jean once. That's the truth. But I’ve loved people before her. I’ve been alive for a long time.” He moved strains of hair from your face, resting his hand on your cheek. “But here’s another truth. I love you. Can’t you see that? Right here and now?”

You could see the genuine look in his eyes. You could always see it.

“And that’s not something I just give away. It’s also taken from me. You’ve taken it from me. And I’ve never been happier for you to have it, like I have yours.”

You nodded, sniffling. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, pulling you against his chest. “Don’t be. Just maybe next time, talk to me about this instead of holding it all in.”

You buried your head into his chest. Voice muffled against the dark fabric. “Says Mr. Wall builder himself.”

Logan kissed your head, fighting back the wind and a fit of laughter. “You got me there.”

[mostly-imagines]

Who Needs Heaven : Safe & Sound

jason todd x fem!reader

aka your daughters learn what happened to jason

warnings: nonspecific discussions on how jason died

(1) the drop-in

The sound of water splashing under toy boats and fish fills the small room.

You ring the washcloth out over the suds, Rory’s idle hands scooping up the excess. She entertains herself with the slowly dissolving bubbles between her fingers as you fill up your cup.

“Put your head back,” you tell her, nudging her forehead.

She does, squeezing her eyes shut.

You pour the cup of water over her head, combing through her hair. You refill the cup again as she pipes up. 

“Mommy,” she says with a casual lull in her voice. 

You pour it out again, making sure to rinse the shampoo at her roots, “Hm?”

Her hand comes up to wipe the stream from off her forehead, “How did daddy get that scar?” 

“Well, daddy has lots of scars,” you say carefully. “You know that.”

She shakes her head, “Littler scars. He has a big one though, right here.” 

She points up and down her torso. 

“What happened?”

You take a breath, eyes focused on the dissolving suds. “What happened…”

She continues on, “He said scars come from when you get hurt and the bigger ones are bigger hurts. How did he get such a big hurt?”

“Um...” She’s quite young to hear that story, especially coming from you. Your older daughters have an awareness of what happened, though it’s never been formally discussed. You think Mia knows what the autopsy scar is and the twins definitely know he died at the very least. You’ve been made aware that there’s been…discussions at school about who their dad is and how he one day died and then years later magically reappeared. You and Jason had decided that you would talk to them about it eventually, but only when they were old enough to not be completely traumatized hearing it.

You just hadn’t assumed that day would creep up on you like this.

You sit back, tense. “Did you ask him that?”

“No…” she says gravely. “I don’t wanna make him sad.”

You nod, trying to collect your thoughts. How can you steer away from this without attracting more questions? 

“Do you know what happened?” she asks, scanning your face.

You do your best to reset your expression to neutral.

You start without really knowing where the sentence is going, “We…we can talk about it later…”

Rory tilts her head, “Not now?”

You shake yours, “Not right now.”

That’s enough to appease her curiosity for the rest of the bath, but you know with that one, it won’t last long.

You’d gotten her dressed and sent her on her way, but your mind stayed heavy the whole time.

You walk downstairs slowly, hands still damp from the bath. As you turn the corner from the stairs you find Jason, reading contentedly by himself in the living room.

You cross the room without hesitation, climbing into the spot next to him on the couch. He doesn’t need to look up, only adjusts the position of his arm so its draped over you, pulling you into his side.

“So…” you start, “Rory was asking about your scar..”

He turns away from the book, looking at you with serious eyes. “What did she say?”

“She wants to know how you got it,” you tell him. “I didn’t tell her, but she didn’t want to ask you either.”

“Why not?” He asks quickly, face brimming with anxiety.

You shake your head, calming his worries. “She said she didn’t want to make you sad.”

He relaxes a bit at that, taking in the information.

You break the silence after a minute, quietly telling him, “I think it might be time to talk about it.”

He looks dejected, eyes on the floor. “They’re still little..”

“I’m not saying tell them everything right now, just…acknowledge it.”

“I don’t—” He sighs, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell them that.”

You think for a moment, nodding. 

“Tell them how you told me. Just…more kid words.”

He still looks resigned at the idea so you continue, “You know how to talk to them. Just tell them what you want them to hear. They’ll listen.”

He nods, eyes low. “Okay…”

You stand up, and he grabs your hand as you rise, pulling himself up too.

You give each other one more confirming look before calling up the stairs, “Girls? Come here.”

There’s a ten second delay before a scuttle of footsteps starts down the staircase, arriving with a low-liveliness, nearly bedtime energy amongst them.

The second you’re within sight of them, they’re keen that something’s not right.

“What’s going on?” 

“Is—”

“Everything’s alright. Nothing’s wrong,” you tell them. “We just want to talk to you for a minute.”

Your words don’t do much to ease their minds, but after a moment they slowly gather onto a single couch. They’re all squished in together and Rory’s half on top of Anna and Laine, the latter of which can barely move. Still, there’s no complaints to be heard, only an air of seriousness throughout the room. 

Jason clears his throat, though he has trouble looking at them, the easier option seeming to be the carpeted floor. 

“Alright,” he starts with a deep breath. “So my, uh, my Y scar…”

The air in the room drops the second the words are out, the girls all quiet and listening closely. You can tell this is something they’d been wondering about for a long time.

“When I was younger and I’d just started doing the, uh, special job my brothers and Bruce do…” He takes another breath, “Some things happened that shouldn’t have and I got hurt..”

“What things?” Ryan asks.

“I…I got tricked by a bad guy and…I just got hurt.”

It’s uncharacteristic for the girls to all look so dejected and serious like this. Goes to show that you were right—they do have an understanding of what happened.

Anna is the first to pipe up. 

“Did you die?”

“Anna—”

“It’s alright,” Jason interrupts. He collects himself before eking out, “Um…yeah, I-I did.”

He’s still stuck on those words and you have to silently push for him to keep talking, so as to not give their imaginations time to run wild.

He takes the hint, stuttering, “But, um, it’s complicated, but I came back and—”

Laine interrupts this time, almost teary-eyed.

“Are you going to die again?”

Jason shakes his head quickly, “No. No, honey, not for a long time.”

It’s quiet for a moment as they process, sorting through the details into something their minds can understand.

Rory looks on edge, wide-eyed, as she asks, “Are you a ghost?”

“No, sweetheart,” Jason answers calmly with a shake of his head. 

That seems to calm her anxiety more than anything else.

“Are you better now?” Laine asks. 

Jason nods, “Yeah, I’m a lot better now.”

Ryan looks skeptical at the choice of words. “How did you…get better?”

He takes a shaky breath, “Well…your mommy helped me a lot. And then you helped me some more. And now…now I’m all healed.”

None of them seem to really understand, but they accept the answer anyways.

The next question is from Anna. 

“Is the bad guy in jail now?” 

Jason only momentarily stutters in his response, but pulls it together nicely. 

“It’s not something you need to be worried about. I promise. Nothing like that’s going to happen again to me or you or anyone.” 

This appears to appease most of the concerns flying around in their heads. 

He continues, “We can talk about it more when you get older, but…

You take the queue, nodding Rory and Lainey your way. 

“Let’s go get ready for bed, okay?”

You nudge the younger two upstairs, who, to your surprise, go without resistance.

You give Jason one last glance before heading up the stairs, happy to see him much more relaxed than he was at the start of this conversation.

He’s left downstairs with his eldest three girls, each nearly bursting at the seams full of their thoughts and questions. 

Jason thumps down on the couch between them, a heavy breath following.

The trio watch him quietly for a moment before Anna speaks.   

“I know what it is,” she tells him somberly. He looks at her with more melancholia than he would’ve hoped for.

She continues, “There’s autopsies on my show sometimes.”

Right, her show. The X-Files.

Jason nods, a bit remiss at the idea that she knows.

From his other side, Ryan pipes up. 

“Did it hurt?”

He shakes his head, “No, I-I wasn’t…” 

Wasn’t alive. He doesn’t want to say that, though. 

Ryan nods, understanding anyways. “Did it hurt when you died?”

He hesitates before answering, wavering between lying to protect their minds and telling them the truth. In the end, he decides that you’re right, they can handle it in small measures. 

“Yeah. It did, a little,” he confesses. ”But like I said, that’s not going to happen again.”

From behind Ryan, Mia speaks so softly Jason almost misses her words. 

“I’m sorry.”

He looks at her, brow furrowed. “For what?” 

“That that happened to you,” she says. Her eyes are filled with an equal sadness to his and it breaks his heart. Even more so that her words are so clearly meant sincerely.

“Oh.”

It’s all he can manage to say.

He was only a little older than Mia when his life had been taken away from him and he’d been forced to reset everything he ever knew. And now, all these years later, he sits here surrounded by his children, his world that he was given a second chance to create. His children that don’t see a monster when they look at him, don’t see the scarred giant that he sees. They just see their dad. 

When they were still young they’d started getting almost excited whenever they got a scar from playing too hard because it made them more like him. It took Jason years to just bear the thought of his scars, but his girls look at them like art. Even when they know he got them in bad ways, they pour out nothing but affection. No disgust, no fear, no hate. Just love.

His eyes close and his face falls in his hands, overwhelmed by the idea of his children being such angels, despite being products of him.

“Dad? Are you okay?” 

He nods, face still covered. His voice is muffled as he says, “Yeah. Yeah, sweetheart, I just, um…” 

His words die off with little fight, and when his hands drop his eyes are red. 

Anna, who’s usually compulsed to only touch emotion with a ten-foot pole, is the first to wrap her arms around him, holding him tight. The gesture takes him by surprise, especially from her, and he tenses briefly before deflating like a balloon. Mia and Ryan are quick to follow suit, basically dog-piling over his opposite shoulder.

“It’s okay, dad. We love you. And your scars,” Ryan tells him. 

Oh, they think he’s sad.

Hell, thirteen years ago he would’ve thought he was sad. He only started to understand his feelings after his first daughter was born. He doesn’t tell them he’s not sad, doesn’t tell them that he’s crying because life slapped him around and then gave him everything he could ever want five times over. 

Instead, he just nods, pulling them impossibly closer.

who’s your fav daughter

[sepublic]

Manny Noceda Haunting the Narrative

We all speak of Caleb haunting the narrative, but what of Manny? Perhaps haunting isn’t the exact right word here, for its foreboding connotations; But he’s ultimately an unseen, unheard ghost whose influence can be felt. Whose absence is there, more clearly than others to be honest because we know that Luz had to have a father, it’s not ambiguous for witches like it is for humans.

From the very first scene, we have to wonder where Manny is if he’s not present during Luz’s conference but Camila is; He’s not even present for Luz to be sent off. He’s not mentioned or acknowledged.

But we have the book he gave Luz, the one that Luz is drawn back towards, and it’s what leads her to the Boiling Isles, and motivates her to stay there for her own sake. It’s what motivates Luz to think of herself, when by the second half of the show she begins to refuse that option as inherently selfish.

If Homesick had aired during S1B, we’d have gotten a glimpse of Manny, but specifically, curiously faceless; Until then, Luz sees a parental figure deteriorating from an incurable illness and is obsessed with handling it, offering medical advice to Eda at one point.

And in Yesterday’s Lie, there’s still no Manny or mention of him, but we see glimpses of his body without the face. And then finally, finally we get Reaching Out and realize; He died. There was no divorce, it’s not that Manny is dead to mother and daughter, only literally. He’s still very much alive to them, Luz is worried about paying tribute to him in that episode.

Camila mourns the loss of Manny, someone who was always better at her about being a weirdo, and without him she feels lost, falls back into what society demands of her, and in doing so hurts their daughter. She mourns that she misses him, but Camila can’t depend on Manny to be what Luz needs her to be; She’ll be Manny, for Luz but also herself too. And Luz herself struggles to be the unapologetic Manny as well, and must do it for herself especially.

It’s the way Manny recontextualizes everything about the Nocedas. It’s the way he haunts the narrative himself, because we noticed, we had to, we had to ask where he was. Why is he not there for Luz or Camila, would he support her, is Camila also struggling from his absence? We don’t need his face or voice or an outright flashback to feel and appreciate Manny’s influence (Though I would’ve loved one).

And in a way, it’s like Dana Terrace’s own father is doing the same; With it being confirmed that Dana’s dad gave her a copy of Pokémon Red before he died, you understand perfectly that Luz is Dana, Manny is her father. Dana still likes Pokémon to this day, she’s done crossover art with Pokémon and her own show.

When it came out, Pokemon was targeted by Evangelicals as evil, it was absurd; And we see the Conformatorium perform similar absurdities in the same first episode where Luz is shown to hold onto her father’s last gift, and her fight with the Conformatorium is her fight with the system that made Luz feel ashamed of Manny’s gift and the profound impact it had on her.

The villain of the show manipulates Luz and makes her think she’s just like him, something Luz acknowledges means being a selfish, destructive force; Unsurprisingly, the villain is a Puritan, the ancestor of evangelicals, who agrees on the similarities but not on these things being evil.

And between Caleb and Manny, perhaps Caleb is defined incorrectly when it comes to how he influences things. Because Caleb does not really motivate Belos, Belos always wanted to be a witch hunter before he could claim to be betrayed by Caleb, he did it for himself. He made Grimwalkers but still continues the harm unto and through them that Caleb stood against. Caleb failed to do anything with Belos, tbh, and all that is passed on are empty genes that a racist would obsess over, but never the spirit as Luz did with Manny.

But what about Caleb’s child? Manny is defined as a father to Luz. What about someone Caleb was a father to as well? His unborn child, the ancestor of Eda. Caleb was a wood carver who loved Flapjack, and the Clawthornes had a tradition of carving Palismen. Could it not be implied that Evelyn carried on his unseen and unheard, yet felt love to their child, born after the death? And this love for the isles and magic and Palismen was passed all the way down to Dell, and then Eda.

And it’s Eda who helps Luz, another human, embrace her love for the isles and magic and Palismen. Evelyn’s descendant helps another human. Luz sees Eda in Manny, she’s his successor as someone who’s present for Luz when Camila can’t always be. Eda loves wild magic and her Palisman, gives Owlbert more autonomy than other witches, and helps the Bat Queen arrange Palismen to find new partners. And what goes around comes around when Caleb’s contribution to Palismen, started by Flapjack, helps Flapjack find a new friend and set in motion events that would lead to the Clawthornes’ injustice being rectified.

I’ve seen people argue that Hunter being with Willow makes him a copy of Caleb, but in addition to Hunter’s arc being him not caring what he does or doesn’t resemble… I think maybe the true parallel to Caleb and Evelyn is Manny and Camila; Both came to Gravesfield, the father was a weirdo with an open mind. He died, the mother mourned, but he passed on something to a child, who would eventually pass it on to Luz herself as both stories and families converge.

So Evelyn and Caleb’s child haunts the narrative; They’re Luz in a sense. Manny haunts the narrative too, since the start. He is Caleb, and so he is Eda who carries that spirit. And he is Eda because she carries the spirit for Luz. Manny is Dana Terrace’s own father, who inspired her to keep being a weirdo, which led to this show. So not only is Manny more important to the narrative’s framing and focus as the main character’s father, whose absence motivates both a disconnect between mother and daughter that leads Luz to the isles, but also motivates Luz to stay?

In a way, Manny represents the father of the series, the father of the show that reflects Dana’s own experiences and beliefs. One could say he haunts Dana’s own life, except… Perhaps the word ‘haunt’ is incorrect. Because it has a negative connotation. Perhaps the word is Inspire; Manny may be dead, we may know little of Mr. Terrace or Manny himself. But we can say that Manny lived, because of his impact, his life had meaning and it always will. Something is in motion, so we all know and understand ask what, or who set it that way.

[cosmique-oddity]

Im so happy you like it >:}}}}

In addition, I also got some thoughts I wanted to share about my choices for this playlist hehehe

I mean, fanfic content 🤌🤌 we love that

Tame Impala Borderline : i got no idea why but it gives me the perfect vibe to draw Jazz...in space especially. In this playlist i placed a lot of songs for space vibes, but this one's also for romance vibe, the way Jazz would flirt. You cannot possibly comprehend how this music radiate mech's pilot jazz x Prowl A.U. in my FEELINGS.

Pacific Rim theme : No explanation required ig for this one X)) I LOVE THIS THEME. ALWAYS HAVE. And the whole Au is based on these movies.

Pink Floyd : THE VIBES. Slow music. Perfect to draw. Its more of a 'Jazz would def listen to this' song. Nonchalant side.

Voltron's theme : 1. Mecha 2. I have to bring my propaganda everywhere 3. ‘Funny Jazz doing silly swings with his mech’ vibes.

505 from Arctic Monkeys : very good song to write and draw angst hehe. Talk abt love. Feelings....

Shangri La by The Electric Light Orchestra : RAAAAAAH. The vibes the vibes. Perfect to write angst too heh. This depict with sound how i see a human x cybertronian relation ship, the symbiosis, the feelings, two different bodies, same soul....how am i supposed to describe it X) ?

Jack to the Bone : only there for atmosphere. Nice background song when you are easily distracted by lyrics. Drawing song. Chill.

Heads Will Roll : KILLING QUINTESSONS TIME W PROWL >:D also this one got the mood i love for this A.U., the whole « undying warrior Jazz because his mecha dont feel pain so he can freely battle »concept.

Diva Dance from 5th Element : i have a thing for this song. And....vibe again. Always vibes. Always. But yeah, slow music, feelings about beauty and grace ….. a waltz between two mechs in space.... and then BLACADABAM !! The second part where its

B A T T L E T I M E.

Interstellar's theme : IT MAKE SENSE. it just make sense because yk stars, space....also very good music when you want to draw the space abysses. Moody song.

David Bowie Space Oddity : Probably the more lore-accurate song . I mean, its litteraly a song about a man, who's slowly loosing contact with Earth, diving into space (its not exactly the same thing tho).... May be good for depicting eventual Earth homesickness. Lyrics song.

Cet air : french song. Propaganda i was so obliged. But yeahhh melancholic shit....the voices are angelic and pretty. Nobody will understand the lyrics so its perfect. Talking about melancholy and times gone by. Song to listen if there's a separation Jazz/Prowl angst time in ur fic. (Or if one of them die haha...or any other separation.)good for grief.

Sweet Dreams : Omg i dont know. Jazz seeking adventures i guess. And him being playful with Prowl. shielding himself by using the word VIBE to explain everything.

I dont Want to Play around : Nobody can tell me this song is not space coded. Jazz would listen to this i know it.

Starlight, Muse : the name of the song. The fact that this is a love song. Talking about going very far, seeking for 'Starlight' Dreams....not caring about anything.. did i mentionned love song ? Nah i love the lyrics. Lyrics song.

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road : Blues song. Elton John, young boy -yes. I keep in mind how Jazz will ultimately either pull us an Avatar or die before Prowl-. Earth melancholy (im thinking a lot about that, he wouldnt miss Earth that much. BUT. HUMAN MUSIC. Human culture etc....hahaha yes he will miss that part).

Wildfire (Cocolia Boss Theme HSR) : Fighting even if you are far from home. Teaming even if you are in cold space. This song was created for a Boss theme but is also very...idk....it display a lot of emotions....so. Epic Battle, eventually when one of the two are injured and surrounded by Quintessons or other ennemies. When they first loose hope and then just go 'fuck that lets win'.

Fall Out Boy, Immortals : Aahhhh

....Jazz is a tiny human....Prowl and him are in a middle of crazy fights....but just if they are together, they could be Immortals. Again an action-battle Song. Im a battle writer i juste have to learn how to draw battles so i can fully turn into the ultimate edgelord.

Fine, Lemon Demon : This one's got an history, i discovered this song via a Rottmnt edit about Donnie. For me this song is about being represented as a grumpy and angry person, but deep inside its a 'disguise' and the person is a sweet sunshine (or just hide a bright side). Just a person who struggle to show HOW they are thinking. Whats the process and who they really are. And yes. I see some similarites between these two characters.

David Bowie, Starman : I love incorporating a shit ton of space sings in there. But hear me out :

Prowl is Jazz's star man.

End of the hear me out. Spaces vibes again.

Jamiroquai Cosmic Girl : Prowl is the Star man, but Jazz is the Cosmic 'girl' depicted in this song. An odd being but....spacey, his feeling are never landing from space. Dreaming about exploration, got a strong magnetizing power. "She is just a Cosmic Girl from another Galaxy".

Elton John Im still standing : Some of Keferon's ask mentionned Jazz doesnt minding getting his mech hurt because well....he cant feel its just a machine. So i feel like it works very well with an eventual liberated fighting style. Also 'feeling like a little kid' could refere to well...piloting giant robot. Who doesn’t want to be him among us ?

Sooo

Since my heart is full of tiny human Jazz hiding in a giant mech, Cybertronian Prowl learning about a new specie and cool spacey romance with some badass fight, I made a playlist

Every song is quite its own mood, but most of them are calm and could help drawing and writing about this alternate universe.

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLLo-Kslg8kXDBq2ixffKrojLFNByeRelg&si=SJsMyJ_AaF-I7kzP

:^

Have a nice day

OOOOOUUUHHHHH This is so cool fjfngnfn

I know what I'm listening tomorrow>:D

[jesswritesthat]

can i request a kuroo x reader where reader is bokuto’s sib? that would be so funny and how would he act towards them? and HOW BOKUTO WOULD REACT AT THIS😭😭 love yaa

A/N: omg I love this idea!!!

>>>>——————————>

Kuroo Dating Bokutos’ Sibling Headcanons:

• Ironically Bokuto was the one to introduce you to Kuroo, and he would never have shown you off so proudly if he could predict the future.

Alas - you walked into a busy Fukurōdani Group Training Camp during their second year equipped with a bento box and a string of curses.

“See how amazing my family is Rooster hair? My biggest fan brings me lunch!” Bokuto slings an arm around your shoulder beaming with grateful pride.

“Ugh, yeah yeah. I figured you’d need energy and I wanted to see Akaashi too…” You retort, looking for your fellow first year in the gym.

• Bokuto issued you an expression of feigned hurt, hand on his chest and putting you at arms length as he hunched over.

“You wound me!”

“If that’s all it takes, I need to take notes.” The Nekoma player commented, this leaving Bokuto barking back at him before returning to ‘normalcy’.

“Anyway, this is my wonderful sibling (Y/n) and this is Kuroo Tetsurō. A middle blocker for Nekoma.”

“Nice to meet you Kuroo.”

“Likewise.”

• It was meant to be left at that, and each of you involved in that situation would’ve agreed too. Except, you found that the way he matched your wit magnetic, and how he’d join you when teasing Bokuto became a highlight of your time spent at the camp.

• Akaashi had noticed it too, addressing it rather bluntly since he was the one you lingered around most often.

“You and Kuroo-san get along well.”

“I know, he’s kinda cool. I’m glad I got to met players from other teams, no wonder Kōtarō likes these training camps so much.”

“You’re right, they are fun.” He’d dismissed is as friendly acquaintances. For now.

• It wasn’t until the next practice match between Fukurōdani and Nekoma that you saw Kuroo again (and you’d ensured to come by the gym before the match to see them). This time warmly greeting each other like friends rather than strangers. A ritual that continued very time Nekoma were involved in Volleyball events.

• It’s near the end of second year that Bokuto finally started to notice, this wasn’t how ‘just friends’ acted. Your brother was oblivious to this stuff usually, which is why it had taken an interaction longer to catch on, but when it came to you he was more observant with such things.

• It’s written in the way Kuroo leans in to listen to you; how you refill his and Kenmas bottles; that you seem to be laughing together more often than not; and in the way you look at each other. It incurs a narrowed analytic gaze from the Fukurōdani Ace.

• When you felt hands clasp your shoulders and steeer you away with an intimidating undertone to his upbeat voice, you figured he was on to your little crush.

“I’m taking (Y/n) away rooster hair, my sibling and I have things to discuss. Don’t we?”

“Crap.”

“Oh yeah, you’re damn right.”

• Golden eyes boared into you intently as if expecting you to spill all your secrets, Akaashi also present to such painful tactics.

“This isn’t going to work Bokuto-san.”

“Give it time Akaashi! I‘ve been unbeatable since we were kids.” The Ace dismissed, not breaking stern eye contact with you.

“Kōtarō, you’re an idiot.”

“And?”

“And nothing.”

“Oh nothing about Kuroo hm? That scheming bastard not charming enough huh?”

“Yes he— I mean no— argh this is so unfair!”

“HAHA! See, told you I’d get ‘em.” Bokuto smugly nudged Akaashi who looked far too tired for your sibling antics right now.

• Well at least you’ll only see each other at volleyball events, which aren’t too frequent to build on. Especially a long as Bokuto lives and breathes.

“I got his number.”

“YOU WHAT?!” He’s dramatically shaking your shoulders as of its going to realign your senses.

“He — gave — number — in touch.”

“I’ll spike his stupid face!”

“You’d do that anyway.”

“Not the point (N/n)! I’ll do it 100x harder now!” It was rather eccentric, but you’d like to think he would actually commit to such a thing ‘purposefully’.

• So your secrets out. Bokuto isn’t happy about it. And Akaashi is the embodiment of Switzerland but with more conspiracy.

Oh you want a moment to talk to Kuroo without Bokuto knowing? He’ll distract him. Bokuto can’t supervise all the time? Akaashi is monitoring Kuroos interactions.

• However you manage to meet up in Tokyo without the pretences of volleyball games or training camps. It’s purely to see one another and through this developing friendship, and with each outing creating a level of comfort, it was natural for the flirty banter to start.

• Such a tiptoe game preceded to their third year, and it became dangerously obvious that the pair of you had a thing for each other but neither of you had acted on it. At first Bokuto was relieved and eager to pettily drag you away whenever the opportunity arose. But now he’d kind of understood that the growing feelings were more genuine than he’d originally assumed.

• It’s still a surprise when Kuroo charismatically pulls him away to an empty gymnasium after training, only to take a more awkward and serious tone when the nerves set in.

“Bokuto, you know you’re one of my best friends right?”

“Yeah man, but I’m not into you that way.”

“Woah, you wish frosty tips.” Kuroo breathed out with a smirk, more at ease thanks to that remark. “I was gonna ask for you blessing as lame as that sounds.”

“Eh? What for?”

“To ask (Y/n) on a date…”

That’s when the humour tainting his expression fades, when the amber in his eyes burn, and the muscles of his crossed arms tense up.

“I see.”

• It takes you a moment to grasp the situation too, of Tetsurō actually asking you to hang out with him after the camp ends - with the specificity of it being a date this time. It doesn’t take long for you to accept, even if you did tease him a little.

“Has becoming Captain made you braver?”

“Oya, I asked before you did (Y/n). Let alone the fact you couldn’t resist my offer~”

• Kuroo finds the situation the easiest to deal with you think, he acts natural even if he is a bundle of nerves underneath it all. His existing relationship with Bokuto and teasing personality make it easier to adjust to. Although sometimes you’ll over hear conversations between the two.

“Thanks for asking rooster hair. Anyway… how’s (Y/n)?” Bokuto asks, slightly more apprehensive than their previous conversation about teams.

“Happy I hope, though I annoyed them the other day - ate the last snack from the packet.” Kuroo snickered, only for Kōtarō to cut in.

“Yeah? You should try taking a bunch of photos, that really gets to (Y/n).”

“Hey?! Don’t help him!” You shout down.

• It amused you in the beginning, one specific time when Kuroo came to your door to pick you up only to find an expectant Bokuto.

“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in. I can’t possibly allow my beloved sibling—”

“I have fried chicken.” Kuroo held up a warm takeout bag, conniving smirk in place.

“Deal, take ‘em wherever you want.”

“Kōtarō?!” You explained, your brother accepting the food without a second thought and ushering you toward the door.

“Eh? You haven’t bribed me in a while, rooster hair is my favourite right now. Out you go, don’t keep the man waiting.”

• They also go shopping together whenever it’s a celebration that involves you. They gladly put yen together for a big gift, or give one another recommendations - yet act completely innocent about it when you call them out on it.

• Sometimes you even feel like you’re third wheeling if Tetsurō visits the Bokuto household, their bromance truly was one of a kind. Though you didn’t mind, grateful that your brother and boyfriend got along so well.

• Bokuto still had that big brother protectiveness though and Kuroo was a scheming bastard when exploiting it. He’d playfully kiss you or show affection in front him - Kōtarō immediately pulling you into him with a look of utter disgust.

“How dare you lay your hands on (Y/n)?”

“Kou, he’s my boyfrie—“

“He knows what he did!”

• Overall it’s a positive experience, and it feels like Kuroo is already apart of the family due to the connections you each already share. They both make the effort to ensure you are happy when they can, and keep in touch fairly often. To be honest your certain they let the other know if your in a bad mood… so much for loyalty y’know?

• However, one thing you haven’t discovered yet, is that when Kuroo asked for Bokutos’ blessing, he readily accepted.

“I see.”

A look of contemplation, and then a beaming smile.

“Finally man! Course you have my blessing bedhead, I can tell you care about (Y/n) and would protect them like I would. Plus I know they’d be happy.”

“Thanks Bokuto, I’ll give it my best if they accept.”

“You better. Else I’ll kill you.” This was sinister, it was that deranged look he got when lost in a match, the one before the most earsplitting spikes - suddenly replaced with his usual carefree grin.

“Whatcha waiting for huh? Get out there and ask (Y/n)!”

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[badboydevotee]

Beneath the Glitter

"Today is my birthday, so you're dining in style. I'm not going to eat any though, so you can finish it off." -Fico's birthday voiceline.

The restaurant was as extravagant as it was exclusive—a gleaming beacon of opulence nestled among the glittering skyscrapers. Its walls were adorned with velvet drapes and the air was filled with the gentle hum of classical music, the subtle clink of silverware, and the rustle of hushed conversations. Outside, the city glittered under the fading light of dusk, but inside, it was a world of indulgence, where the rich and powerful gathered to feast, to gossip, to flaunt their successes. You sat across from him, your heart a tangled mess of confusion and hesitation, unsure of what to make of the invitation. Romeo Scorpius Lucci, the man who oozed wealth and arrogance with every step he took, had asked you to join him for dinner. On his birthday, no less. But there was something unsettling about it—something you couldn’t quite place. His gaze was sharp, his posture immaculate, but his lips were pressed into a thin, cruel line. 

You had known Romeo for a while now, ever since you had crossed paths at the casino. He was a man of sharp edges, a man whose temper could ignite the room with a mere glance. It wasn’t hard to hear the stories—the whispers about how he had once been the crowned king of the fashion world, only to watch it crumble down to dust, and how he had clawed his way back from that fall with a vengeance. Everything about him screamed ambition and control, but today… today, he was different. The usual fire in his magenta eyes was muted, replaced by something unreadable.

He took a sip from his glass of wine, his lips curling slightly as he glanced at you, still silent. His hair, perfectly styled with the right side falling slightly longer than the left, caught the light from the chandelier above. The tips of his short gray hair darkened almost imperceptibly as it cascaded over his earring—each one a solid gold hoop, gleaming as brightly as the man himself. Despite the tension in the air, he looked… untouchable. Beautiful, even, though you’d never admit that to his face.

“This is a fine dining experience, BB” he said, his voice low but sharp, like the edge of a well-honed blade. “They’ve prepared a special tasting menu just for us.”

His tone held a hint of something else—something strange, like a thin layer of ice coating his usual arrogance. As he looked down at the elegant table setting, his red eyes—darker now in the dim lighting—flashed with irritation. You knew better than to speak when he was in one of these moods, especially when his temper seemed so volatile.

“It’s too bad you don’t have any appetite for the finer things in life,” you said softly, hoping to ease the tension in the room, to break through the wall he’d built around himself.

Romeo chuckled darkly, his lips curling into a wry smile. His voice came out clipped and almost condescending, like he was humoring you—one of the few things he ever did with genuine attention.

“Today is my birthday,” he declared, the words sharp and almost bitter as they passed his lips. “So you’re dining in style. I’m not going to eat any of it, though,” he added, leaning back in his chair with a languid stretch. His fingers grazed his gold earring absentmindedly, a habitual gesture that you’d seen him do countless times before. It was almost like he needed it to remind him that he was still in control. “You can finish it off.”

A part of you wanted to protest. You knew how meticulously Romeo valued every detail, every ounce of luxury and decadence. To see him not even touch the food—food that had been specially prepared—felt… wrong. But it wasn’t your place to question him. Not now. Not when his presence was so overwhelming, like the dark storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

The waiter approached, setting down a series of dishes one after the other: delicate amuse-bouches, perfectly seared foie gras, intricately arranged seafood towers, and the main course—a tender cut of wagyu beef, its rich aroma drifting through the air. It was a meal fit for royalty, but Romeo, true to his word, didn't so much as glance at it.

You stared at the plate before you, the warm light of the candles reflecting off the fine porcelain. The aroma of the food was intoxicating. It was rich, indulgent, everything he loved. Yet, there he sat, staring at his glass of wine, as if lost in thought, as if the celebration wasn’t for him at all.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Romeo said, breaking the silence, his voice now sharp with a hint of something deeper. “I’m not here to enjoy this. I have no time for pleasure when I’ve got more important things to attend to.”

You raised an eyebrow, a fleeting moment of disbelief washing over you. His obsession with money and status had always been something you’d never fully understood. But this… this felt like more. There was something in his eyes now, a flicker of vulnerability that he desperately tried to mask with that familiar sharpness, with the cold indifference that kept everyone at arm’s length.

His fingers drummed impatiently on the table, the sound of his rings against the fine wood the only noise in the otherwise still room. It was then that you realized the truth: this wasn’t a simple birthday dinner. He was fighting something. Fighting it in a way that was both desperate and painfully obvious.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you said quietly, pushing aside the delicate silver fork, suddenly aware of how strange the situation was. You’d never seen Romeo act like this before. He was always so in control, so driven by his insatiable hunger for success and wealth.

Romeo’s eyes flicked to you, his magenta irises flashing dangerously. His hand shot out, his fingers tightening around your wrist as he leaned forward, his voice low and unyielding. “You think I’m doing this for you? For anyone?” He let out a short, derisive laugh. “No. I’m doing this because I can. Because I have to.”

You didn’t pull away from his grip. It was firm, a reminder of how tightly he held everything in his life—his empire, his ambitions, even his emotions. You could see the strain in his jaw, the barely concealed rage flickering in the depths of his gaze.

“You can’t outrun your past, Fico,” you said softly, using the nickname he’d always insisted on. “You can’t keep punishing yourself like this. You deserve to enjoy something—just once.”

Romeo’s expression faltered, just for a second. It was as though your words had pierced through that armor of pride and defiance. His grip on your wrist loosened, and for a brief, almost imperceptible moment, the walls around him seemed to crack.

“I’m not like you,” he muttered, a rare admission slipping from his lips. “I can’t afford to be.”

You reached out, gently taking his hand. The warmth of your touch seemed to ground him in a way that nothing else had been able to. His eyes met yours, and for once, he didn’t look away, didn’t snap, didn’t rage. He simply stared, as if weighing the unspoken connection between the two of you.

“Maybe you can,” you said quietly, your voice a soft whisper in the midst of all the grandeur and extravagance. “Maybe you just need to let someone in.”

The air between you seemed to hum with something unspoken. He exhaled sharply, as if the weight of everything was momentarily too much to bear. For the first time in ages, Romeo Scorpius Lucci didn’t seem like the cold, calculating man who’d clawed his way to the top.

For a fleeting moment, he simply looked… human. And in that moment, something shifted between you both.

With a slow, almost reluctant movement, he picked up his fork, piercing a delicate slice of wagyu, before setting it back down with a soft sigh.

“Fine,” he muttered, his usual arrogance slipping back into his voice. “I’ll have a bite. But only because it’s my damn birthday.”

And for the first time that evening, you both shared a genuine laugh.

You couldn’t help but smile as Romeo finally took a bite of the wagyu, his eyes momentarily closing in appreciation. It wasn’t much—a small victory—but it was something. It was a crack in the armor, a rare moment where the walls around him seemed to crumble, just a little. And as he chewed slowly, his usual sharp gaze softened ever so slightly.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” you said, teasing him gently as you picked up your own fork. You couldn’t resist—he might be insufferable at times, but there was something undeniably magnetic about him. His stubbornness, his pride, even his scornful nature—everything about him was a puzzle that you couldn’t seem to put down.

Romeo's lips curled into that familiar smirk, but it was different now—less biting, more amused, like he was letting you in on some private joke only he understood.

“I’m not the one who’s impossible here,” he shot back, his tone still sharp but with a hint of warmth underneath. He leaned back in his chair, looking at you as though he were sizing you up, like you were the most intriguing thing in the room, despite the luxury that surrounded you both. His gaze lingered longer than it should have, as though he were trying to figure out why you, of all people, had the ability to disarm him so effortlessly.

You tilted your head, studying him in return. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him so vulnerable, but it was the first time he’d let you see it without the walls of anger and pride. For all his bluster, Romeo was a man driven by a hunger that went deeper than money or power—it was something else. Something raw. Something broken.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Fico,” you said, leaning in slightly, your voice low and steady. “But you don’t have to keep pretending you’re some perfect machine, only running on fuel and ambition. You’re allowed to—”

“Stop.” He raised a hand, his voice firm but not hostile. There was a slight tremor in his fingers, a hint of something beneath the surface. "I don’t *need* anyone’s pity or concern."

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the defensiveness in his tone. “I’m not offering either of those. Just... maybe a little bit of understanding. Maybe I’m the one who’s trying to figure out the puzzle.”

Romeo stared at you, his magenta eyes gleaming in the low light, and for a moment, the world outside the restaurant seemed to fall away. It was just the two of you, in this little bubble of rich, warm air, surrounded by fine dining and too many untold stories.

“I don’t need understanding,” he muttered, though there was a softness to his words that didn’t match his usual fire. “I just need what’s mine. What’s owed to me.”

You nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in his words. His relentless pursuit of what he had lost was something you couldn’t ignore. The dreams of grandeur that haunted him. You could see it now, clearer than before—the weight that crushed him. It wasn’t just about money, not really. It was about power, control, and reclaiming something he had once thought was within his grasp, only to watch it slip away.

"Then I guess that makes two of us," you said quietly, and for a second, you wondered if he understood the subtle implication.

Romeo didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took another bite of the food, his lips pressing into a thin line as he chewed thoughtfully. His magenta eyes flicked up to meet yours once more, the tension between you thickening as the air seemed to charge with something unspoken.

“I’m not someone you should get close to, you know,” he finally said, his voice low and earnest, a trace of something vulnerable creeping into his tone. "I’m not the kind of person who lets anyone in."

You knew that already. You knew that better than anyone else. But you also knew something he didn’t seem to realize—that sometimes, letting someone in wasn’t about fixing the broken parts. Sometimes, it was just about *being* there, without the expectation of anything in return.

“And yet, here we are,” you said softly, offering him a wry smile. “Maybe you don’t have to let me in. Maybe I’m just here for the ride.”

For a moment, Romeo’s gaze flickered, like he was deciding whether to laugh or argue. Instead, he simply looked at you—really looked at you—and the tension between you seemed to soften, just a fraction. The walls that had always been so solid around him were starting to bend. You weren’t sure if they’d ever come down completely, but for now, this—this strange, tentative truce—was enough.

Romeo took another sip of wine, his posture returning to something more casual, almost like he was letting go of some of the weight that had been pressing down on him all evening. His magenta eyes softened, not in affection, but in a quiet understanding that he didn’t need to push you away. Not yet, at least.

“So,” he said, his voice returning to its usual cocky tone, “this is a fine meal, but I expect you to finish it all. It’s my birthday, after all. And I do have a reputation to maintain.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused despite yourself. "You *really* are impossible," you muttered, but there was a smile tugging at your lips that you couldn’t quite suppress.

Romeo’s lips quirked into a smirk, his eyes glinting mischievously. “You’ll get used to it. Eventually.”

And just like that, the moment passed, and the two of you fell back into the dance you knew all too well—his sharp remarks and your knowing smiles, the ever-present tension between you both. But now, there was something else there too. A hint of understanding. A crack in his façade. 

Maybe he didn’t need to admit it out loud. But for once, Romeo Scorpius Lucci wasn’t the terrifying, untouchable man he always tried to be. And maybe—just maybe—neither were you.

The rest of the evening passed in a strange, comfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional teasing remark, the clinking of silverware, and the soft sound of laughter that lingered between you both. And for once, the glistening city outside didn’t feel so far away.

It felt, for the first time in a long time, like it was within reach.

Ao3 vers.

Please love Romi <3

[inferno-0]

Symbiote | Headcanons |

───────────────────────────

Just a bunch of headcanons

────────────────────────────

Sorry for the English

Venom

* The most understanding and at the same time annoying symbiote. Sharing the body with him, let's say, is not a dangerous business, from the second time. You just need to know that you are no longer alone, there is literally a "living" creature in your body that chose you.

* Venom is not inherently hostile, although he is smart in his own way and has other thoughts, unless they come at the expense of yours. Jokes and straightforwardness of words, completely to his character. You don't know why Venom chose to behave this way.

Maybe this is a frequent change of the owner, who had the same temperament?

Unknown.

* Although the humor, which is witty enough, makes you laugh until he wants to "Devour".

Riot

* He chose you only because you didn't scream when you heard someone else's voice in your head. Riot had no choice but to stay with you.

The previous owner died while trying to fly to another planet, there was no point in moving on, because all people and in principle the creatures in which he possessed were not as indifferent as you.

* You live with him and it's not that problematic. Riot is quite serious about some things, anything he doesn't know he considers a threat or something primitive if he finds out what it is. His train of thought is sometimes cruel compared to yours, but you somehow manage to convince him of the opposite and not show your essence so harshly in front of people.

* Everything is complicated with Nutrition. Of course, Riot likes chocolate, but only a certain one. In the absence of this specimen, it will require people, but not animals.

Carnage

* You will have to suffer with this symbiote. Bloodthirsty and violent. Sharp and merciless. Carnage is the complete opposite of all those symbiotes that are higher. In any case, you are trying to calm him down with all your nerves and strength. The most offensive thing is that he did not even feel this leap in you and simply restored the body for himself.

* You were just unlucky with the meeting. Especially with him. Carnage was able to survive as Venom absorbed it back. The part that remained under the ruins penetrated into you. All the thoughts that filled your brain required one thing. Massacres and food. And it was not easy for you to stop such a flow. Carnage was and is a persistent symbiote, he blackmails and threatens you if you don't do what he wants.

* In case of disobedience, it will definitely touch some nerve in your brain to fulfill its whims.

You can only hope for fate.

────────────────────────────

[bgbrry]

On My Chemical Romance, dictatorships and comfort.

So my very initial reaction to the Black Parade tour announcement was, while not entirely negative, definitely frustrated. For the past several hours I have also been trying to understand why. I knew they were doing something based off TBP, but something about that made me inherently uncomfortable in an odd way.

Rationalising it to myself, it made perfect sense. This tour is almost a bigger scale version of one of my favourite stunts they ever pulled - WWWY2022. We have a parody of their old self, performing as a rotted corpse of the band they used to be for an audience that will cheer regardless, as long as they hear the songs they recognise, that dont put them outside their comfort zone. And then we have the very idea of MCR parodied as a dictator the very next day. It served not only as incredible satire of cash grab tours and nostalgia festival, but a critique of the way the band is perceived by the fans.

So if its not discomfort with the theme, what could it be? Maybe it is the subversion of the "secretary" character, who I have analysed in a completely different manner since the day i first saw that leg of the tour? Perhaps, in a way, it is odd to feel as though a concept you have been enthralled in for so long is snatched away from you and turned on its head. But isnt that what always made me like this band? The unconventional storytelling, the twists and turns they pulled?

In my initial post complaining about a hypothetical TBP continuation I proclaimed that any material that isnt entirely original would be a disappointment and underwhelming considering the themes of Return tour. But why do I think that? Isnt it hypocritical, for someone who values Return as a masterpiece to put this baseless boundary in place without knowing what I am talking about just yet? At what point does the idea of "Reimagining your own legacy through a corrupting force that forever alters it" become worse because it is more explicit? How am I not at that point complacent in being the very force that puts My Chem in a box of expectations i built up for them.

And that is pretty much what I came to for now. It is one am and I cannot get it out of my head. My own expectations for what "The New MCR project" were going to be, are held up by my own unconscious desires and understandings of what "good art" is, based on the very world that oppresses people like me and those with their head under the boot of this system. The idea that a new album has more inherent value than performance art, the idea that a tour is motivated by monetary reasons exclusively, the idea that the concepts and characters that bring people comfort and nostalgia are too precious to be tarnished by something new. The tour has not even begun and I already got caught in its trap of complicity to the system that can bring me comfort.

When I was recording a voice message about this announcement, I had to go past two cops, and I couldn't say the word "dictator" as I did not want to get in trouble with them.

I do not want to be this complicit. I wanna hear them out. Especially if it makes me uncomfortable

[vairiance]

Absolutely hate how every time American dubs have to dub an ethnic nonwhite character, regardless of whether or not the actor they hire is white or not, they're always directed to just do either a) the most bland American normal speaking voice they could muster, or b) Fake British Accent.

Idk maybe it's just me but if the ancient ancestor warrior of the Gerudo pronounces her own tribes name the same way that my middle school substitute teacher who thought Mexico was in India would, it's kind of an immersion breaker.

[wellthatschaotic]

neurotypicals are so frustrating,, i keep forgetting that "can you do x" means "go do x"

[ozcarma]

Trying to watch 999 let’s plays is such hell to me - NO ONE PLAYS THE GAME RIGHT just shutupshutupshutupshutup and play the game!! Stop trying to make jokes!!!!

I’m too autistic for this, I cannot bear hearing let’s players doing their own voice acting when I adore the game’s VAs too much. Everyone always fucks up Santa’s and Lotus’s voices especially.

I understand the draw of Let’s Plays are largely the people playing them who have gained their own following, but as someone who just loves the game I don’t wanna hear ur stupid banter 💥💥💥 play the game and be intrigued but not TOO intrigued because give it a fuckin minute it’ll explain what’s going on 🙄‼️

[todayisafridaynight]

At which point did you realise that the plot of IW is ass? I've seen people complain only about the ending or the halfway point where the teams separate, while I was already actively rolling my eyes like four-five chapters in

i think the moment i fully accepted that IW's story was. Definitely A Story was the moment ebina announced 'bleach japan'. like i think leading up to that point i was thinking to myself 'oh i hope i see X happen' or being like 'i wonder where this is going' and that sort but the proverbial bucket of ice was definitely that moment

[serendipitous-mage]

why do fire alarm batteries

ONLY

ever need replacing when you are dead fucking asleep

did i enrage god? does she hate me now as i too hate this creation of ours? when will she replace MY batteries

[termagax]

for all his misery and mopey nature i do think he likes and prefers being roadhog and wouldnt go back for anything. i think "feeling like mako" means feeling small and ashamed and weak in his mind and he hates it.