#i'm like do you not get how devastating and twisted that is?????? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lilacmingi · 2 months ago

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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!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz @laylasbunbunny @iammeandmeisiam @delulu18 @spooo00oky @tiredlittlevirgo

#yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #yunho x you #jeong yunho x you #yunho x y/n #jeong yunho x y/n #jeong yunho fluff #jeong yunho imagines #yunho fluff #yunho imagines #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #kpop fluff #ateez fluff

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 7 days ago

Text

no doubt ── s. jy (sneak peek!)

↳ summary ── struggling to balance a world tour, endless responsibilities, and...well, the sting of getting dumped by his girlfriend, jake finds peace & comfort confiding in you—one of his closest friends. what begins as lighthearted late-night phone calls while he's away on tour deepens into something more, quickly pulling you both into uncharted emotional territory. as your connection with jake intensifies, so does your inner turmoil—torn between the comfort of your easy relationship with him and the terrifying possibility of falling for someone you're not even sure you can have in the first place. but jake? jake has absolutely no doubt of what he wants—and spoiler alert? it's you.

↳ pairing ── jake x f!reader, [ft. childhoodbestfriend!jungwon, bestfriends!enha]

↳ genre ── idol!jake, friends to lovers!au || fluff, angst, crack

↳ addie's ✉ .ᐟ ── hai everyone, the freaking turmoil & HOLD this fic has on me,,,has me writing til 8AM in the freaking morning because CLEARLY ─ i have unspoken issues . anyways here's a teaser of my recent hyperfixation that i'm sharing with the world. at the rate i'm writing this every night (& morning), it should be out soon (hopefully) :3 also this snippet i decided to include is my attempt at angst...i hope yall enjoy !

also send me an ask/comment if you'd like to be tagged !!! <3

snippet under the cut!!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

“Y/N.”

His voice is quiet, almost drowned out by the muffled hum of music and laughter seeping from the party you should've escaped from a long time ago. You stop in your tracks, swallowing hard before turning around.

Jake stands a few feet away, his usual easy confidence replaced by something raw, almost broken. He looks disheveled, his hands clenching at his sides as though they're the only thing anchoring him.

“Can we talk?” he asks, his voice low but unsteady.

You stomach twists, but you steel yourself, "What do you want, Jake?"

You shift your weight and instinctively cross your arms, a defensive barrier between you and the boy you spent too long letting into your heart. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the vulnerability in them makes your resolve falter.

He takes a hesitant step towards you before exhaling shakily, running a hand through his hair.

“I—I messed up tonight. I didn’t mean to...," he trails off, his words fumbling, his eyes searching yours in desperation.

"...to completely ignore me all night? Make me feel like nothing?" You finish for him, your quiet voice breaking despite your attempt to stay composed.

"No. God, no. You're not nothing," he says quickly, his voice faltering on the last word. "Y/N, you matter so much to me."

“Well it definitely didn't feel that way,” your voice is barely audible, but you finally look up at him, the hurt bubbling to the surface. “After everything you said—promised, everything we talked about…”

"I know, I just—" he hesitates, his voice barely above a whisper. He takes a tentative step closer, his movements slow and careful, like he's afraid you'll shatter if he gets too close. "I was nervous."

"It’s been so long, and I didn’t know what to say, how to act. I wanted to get it right—to make it perfect—but instead, I just—" he stops, dragging another frustrated hand through his hair. His eyebrows knit together in that familiar way that once made your heart flutter, but now only adds to the ache in your chest.

You let out a hollow laugh, the sound foreign even to your own ears, “Well, congratulations, Jake. You managed to mess it up anyway.”

“Please,” he looks devastated, his hands trembling at his sides. “Y/N, please don’t think I don’t care about you. I do. More than you know. I just—I don't know how to do this. I panicked and I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear."

You look at him, your eyes stinging with unshed tears as you take a shaky breath, “Then why was...why was she all over you tonight? Why didn’t you stop her?”

He falters, his shoulders slumping under the weight of your question, “It wasn’t what it looked like. I didn’t—I couldn’t—”

“You couldn’t,” you echo, the words spilling out in a rush now, each one cutting deeper. “I should've known. Let me guess, she wants to get back together, right?"

Jake's silence is deafening, and it immediately answers your question. He opens this mouth, but nothing comes out. The way he looks at you—eyes wide and filled with regret, lips trembling as if searching for the right words—confirms everything you’re afraid of.

You squeeze your eyes shut, a shaky breath escaping your lips—the sound caught somewhere between a sigh of realization and a choked sob. No matter how hard you try, the wall holding back your emotions cracks under the weight of it all. The doubts you've tried so hard to bury suddenly resurface, crashing over you suddenly, each one carrying the sting of every insecurity, every fear you’ve ever had about this moment, about him. Your chest feels tight, your heart splintering under the realization that everything you were afraid of might be true.

"Jake, I can't do this," you whisper, shaking your head. "I can't be the person you lean on while you try to figure out what you want."

"No, no—Y/N, I do know what I want," he pleads, his voice cracking as he tries to step closer. "And it’s you. Always been you, Y/N. Everything I said before—I meant it."

His words hang heavy in the air, the faint echo of the party music filtering through the cracks in the door and into the quiet hallway. You look away, refusing to let him see your tears finally spilling over.

"You promised," you let out softly. "You promised you wouldn't hurt me. You said you'd prove that I could trust you, that I didn't have to be scared. You knew I was worried, Jake. And you hurt me anyways."

"And I swear I meant every word I said. I still do," Jake says, his voice desperate. He steps even closer, his hand reaching out and brushing yours, but you pull back before he can close the distance. "You have to believe me. Please, Y/N. You're the only one I care about."

You shake your head again, the tears now freely slipping down your cheeks despite your best efforts, "I don't know if I can believe that anymore, Jake. I wanted to, I really, really did. But tonight..."

Jake’s face falls, the weight of your pain crashing into him all at once. His lips tremble as he struggles to hold himself together, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. This was the first time seeing you in so long, and this sight of you—broken because of him—cuts deeper than he thought possible. His voice is barely above a whisper, raw and pleading, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I—God, please. Please give me a chance.”

You look at him—at the boy who's become your safe space —and all you feel is the ache in your heart.

"I can't do this right now, Jake," you finally let out a deep breath and take a step back. "I think I just need space."

The words hang in the air like a death sentence. His breath hitches as if your words physically hit him in face, "Y/N..."

Your phone suddenly buzzes, a text from Jungwon letting you know he's outside. You glance down at it, then back at Jake. For a moment, you hesitate, your heart screaming at you to stay, to give him the chance he's begging for. But your head knows better.

"I have to go," you murmur softly, turning away before the tears threaten to spill all over again. You force yourself to keep walking, fighting the overwhelming urge to look back—to let him pull you into his arms, where you wished so desperately you belonged.

Frozen, Jake watches helplessly as you walk away, his chest tightening with every step you take. Everything feels like it's caving in, regret clawing at him the more he sees you walk further away. He opens his mouth to say something—anything—but the words fail him, silenced by the weight of his own mistakes.

The hallway falls into a haunting silence, broken only by the faint echo of your retreating steps, a cruel reminder of what he's just let slip away.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

not my usual style of light-hearted crack...but sum of the other parts are still very rom-commy bc im sucker for dat shtuff :3

let me know if you'd like to be tagged !

<3, addie

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peachsukii · 6 months ago

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₊✩‧₊ ⎯ Decorating Sakura’s Room 『 ♡ sakura haruka x reader 』

content // after seeing sakura's empty room for the first time, you're determined to make him feel more at home with a few additions.

note // tumblr decided not to post this yesterday for softie sunday lol so here it is!

Sakura's always deterred you from coming back to his place for your date nights, avoiding the topic altogether by offering to meet up at Pothos or to watch movies at your place instead. For the first month or so of dating, you didn't question it much, but now? It's getting suspicious. What did he have to hide from you?

"C'mon, we always go to my apartment. Why do you never have me over?"

Your demand has Sakura sweating, unable to come up with a logical excuse to keep you away any longer. He knows damn well that you can see right through his lies...and he has a terrible poker face around you.

"Fine, but don't expect much," he mutters, stomping passed you and continuing down the street. When you approach his front door, he takes a deep breath before twisting the handle.

"Do you not lock your door?!" You exclaim, noticing he didn't have a set of keys on him. "Saku, that's dangerous as hell!"

"S'not a big deal," he mumbles before kicking his shoes off into the corner, completely ignoring the shoe rack behind the door. "Don't have anythin' to steal, anyways."

You're confused by his words until you get a decent look at the apartment. It's...bare. Not a single decorative item in sight.

"Did you just move into this place?" you ask, confused. You're slowly making your way back to his bedroom, awestruck by the lack of evidence that anyone lives here.

"Nah, been here since I got to Makochi."

You turn to face him, a sad glint in your eyes before shaking your head. It makes him swallow nervously, the tips of his ears warming by the second. You don't say another word about it for the rest of the day.

A couple days pass until the two of you have plans again. You insist to meet at Sakura's place, and after lots of begging, he begrudgingly agrees. When you finally arrive to his place, you can barely knock on the door with how full your hands are with numerous bags of gifts. He opens the door as your mid-swing with your foot to "knock," immediately overwhelmed by the amount of stuff on your person.

"Th' hell is all this?!" Sakura shouts while attempting to grab a few of the bags from your hands. "Yer like a walkin' target with all this! Get in here already!"

"Sorry, Saku. I couldn't help it."

Sakura places the bags on the floor, slowly peaking through them to investigate just what the hell you've unloaded into his space. There are tons of essential items in neutral tones - a few sets of towels, a bath mat, two pillows and silk cases, a 4 set of plates and bowls, silverware, a pair of black house slippers, a brand new reusable water bottle, a water filter for the fridge, and a picture frame.

"I might've went a little overboard," you say sheepishly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "I felt bad you didn't have anything to make your home feel like your own. So I got you some things to warm it up, make it feel more permanent and a place you like, not just one you sleep in."

Sakura's speechless - devastated, even. He can't comprehend what he did to deserve your sweetness, biting his lip to keep his emotions caged. His cheeks are ablaze as he picks up the picture frame, noticing the plastic film is missing and there's a familiar set of pictures behind the glass.

"I went ahead and put in the pictures we took at the photo booth from the theater on our first date, you don't need to keep⎯ "

Your silenced by Sakura's lips capturing yours, his shaky hands cradling your face. Your squeak of surprise makes his heart skip a beat.

"Thank you," he whispers as you part, moving to wrap you up in a tight hug. "Yer...always so warm, like bein' under the sun on a hot day. I'm still getting used to that feelin', but this helps more than you know."

Your heart swells as you lay your head on his shoulder, absorbing all of his affection in the moment.

"Of course, Sakura. You deserve to be happy and feel like you belong."

His grip tightens on your shirt, a shiver running down his spine at your words. One day, he'll be able to tell you how you've made him feel at home for awhile now, and that the material possession are a nonfactor.

You pull back from his hug and pat him on the shoulders. "I'll help you put everything away and whatnot."

The two of you spend the next hour unpacking all of the goodies you've bought, leaving the picture frame for last. Sakura grabs the frame and paces the apartment a few times, pondering where exactly he wants to put it until the perfect spot pops into his mind.

Right above the shoe rack so you can welcome him home every single day with your bright smile.

『 #reis softie sundays 』

#reis softie sundays #sakura haruka x reader #wind breaker x reader #sakura haruka fluff #wind breaker fluff

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cupidddd-d · 8 months ago

Text

heart eyes

aww, they're in love with you !

peter

"h-hey," peter's voice cracks as he tries to speak, clearing his throat as a blush creeps up his cheeks. "i-i mean, hey."

his hands fiddle with something underneath his robes, his freckles slowly disappearing as his flush grows darker.

"hi peter, what's up?" you offer him a polite smile as you try not to laugh at how adorable he is.

"s-so i noticed that um...y-you're really good at, um, ch-charms. c-could you maybe...tutor me? i-i mean, i-it's fine if y-you don't!" he stutters.

he clears his throat again as he stares down at the ground. preparing himself to be slapped. for what? he doesn't really know. maybe for even daring to talk to you, let alone asking you for anything. why would he deserve to hold even an ounce of your attention?

"sure, that's fine. i'm free anytime, so let me know when you want to meet in the library," you shrug simply, your eyes widening in shock as he shoves 3 boxes of chocolate frogs in your arms.

"okay, thanks, bye!" he rushes off before you can respond, practically running away from you.

"um...bye, i guess?"

james

"merlin-!" your neck almost collapses as james places his elbow on your skull, casually using you as an armrest and leaning his full weight on you.

"has anyone ever told you how short you are?" he ponders, letting out a quiet oomph when you shove him off.

"get off me, you...ogre!"

"sweetheart, i'm hurt. anyhow, have you heard of what happened to malfoy? i set his mattress on fire," he looks at you with a childlike grin, eager for your approval. "you said he was insulting you behind your back, didn't you?"

"oh, that's not...that's not really a prank. that's just, um...arson." you scratch the back of your neck awkwardly, your lips twisted into a weak grimace.

his smile dips slightly. "well, i didn't exactly consult the boys about it. was more of a personal project. for you. don't you like it?"

"um...it's the thought that counts, right?"

as dubious as your answer is, it causes james' spirits to lift once more, and he tackles you in a hug (which subsequently cuts off your air supply--who knew he'd have such a strong grip?).

"i knew you'd love it!"

sirius

"ahh, good evening, love. sitting at the fireplace all by your lonesome?" sirius says loudly as he plops down on the couch next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

"not anymore," you gingerly pick up his hand as if it's radioactive, tossing it aside and leaving it dangling behind the couch--but most importantly, away from you. "what are you doing, black?"

"you're so cold to me," he sighs, raking a hand through his hair. "you didn't notice anything new about me?"

you shake your head cluelessly.

"nothing? really, love? shoes? haircut? rings? clothes? you don't notice anything?"

you shake your head again.

"i'm heartbroken! devastated! anguished! inconsolable, even! i did all this to fit your tastes, you know!" he complains. "can't i have a little kiss to heal my shattered soul?"

he puckers his lips, leaning in with a hopeful expression.

"yeah, maybe in your dreams, black." you snort as you get up from the couch, moving as far away from him as possible.

he bites his lip as he watches you leave, idly rubbing his jaw.

"oh trust me, i'm dreaming...hell, i'll do a lot more than dreaming..."

remus

"i couldn't stay for break, so i wanted to give you an early yule present, if that's okay?" remus rummages around in his bag and hands you a strange rectangle.

upon closer inspection, it seems to be a (poorly) wrapped gift, but it's the thought behind it that warms your heart and causes an involuntary smile to spread across your face.

yes, too much wrapping paper was used, and there's tape in unnecessary places, but remus made a gift for you. who cares that it looked like it had been constructed by a blind toddler?

"thank you, remus," you say sweetly, your voice dripping into his ears like warm honey. "can i open it?"

"o-of course, and if you don't like it, i also have a sweater in my dorm for you. i um, remember how you'd always compliment my sweaters, so i thought i might get us a matching pair." he offers you a shy smile that makes your heart melt.

"you're so sweet, rem," you say softly. you delicately tear the wrapping paper, not wanting to ruin his hard work.

"it's my favorite book. i thought you might like it, and i annotated it. i highlighted the lines that made me think of you, and i also wrote little comments in the margins," he explains quietly, picking at his cuticles. "but now that i'm saying it out loud, it seems stupid..."

"it's not stupid, rem! i love it! it's really sweet and thoughtful! thank you," you say earnestly. "i'm really excited to read it over break. i mean it,"

"you're welcome, dove,"

#hogwarts #the marauders #james fleamont potter #james potter x reader #james potter #peter pettigrew #peter pettigrew x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #marauders era #marauders #harry potter #fluff

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ven0moir · 2 months ago

Text

Will had hope ... and then lost it.

He had hope that maybe, just maybe, Mike and he felt the same way. And I think it started here:

Mike expressed relief at the idea of Will not joining another party. And Will's look seems ... surprised but joyful? Like he's picking up on Something the audience is not.

Then we have this:

I know a lot of people say he meant this in a friendship way. But I don't think he did entirely. I think he was 'testing the waters' so to speak, to see Mike's reaction to him asking something like this so forwardly--an action driven in part, possibly, also by frustration. Of course their friendship was his priority but he was also Sending Mike a Message. Speaking in code, if you will. And I'm not sure if Mike picked up on it or not, but he knew what he was doing when he used the word 'us'.

Then of course we have Mike's speech to Will in episode 4. The way he slightly tilts his head to the side inquisitively after Mike said 'It's Hawkins, it's not the same without you', as if he's thinking "am I dreaming? Is he really saying this?" And not to be meta but he might even be wondering if he's being delusional here.

On top of that, the speech prompted him to gather the courage to do this:

hope again. But then his arc culminated in this:

Will's facial expressions when Mike is self-depricating ... he seems so sad. In the second one, even Mike notices and cuts himself off to apologize for bringing up this subject.

I think he, sadly, realized Mike did feel the same way as him, but not in the way he had initially hoped. Mike, like him, is struggling with not feeling good enough for the person he loves.

And Will did not want Mike to feel the same way he did. So he did what we saw him do and give the painting to Mike, which symbolizes his love for DnD, for what they do together, for their friend group, for him. His intention here was to make Mike feel better. Important. Seen. Even at the cost of his own heartbreak.

"Every smile you fake, I'll be watching you."

So to recap, at the beginning of the season, Will had been acting weird and painting for someone he liked ( according to El ). We find out very quickly that the recipient of the painting was intended to be Mike. I don't think Will ever intended for the painting to be a full blown love confession--but a start. A continuation of the 'hint dropping' they started doing at the end of S3. But of course, the whole world went to shit, and his feelings got amplified to the point where the painting's meaning took a different turn. And it became the basis of a veiled love confession.

I think this is devastating because the narrative forced them, once again, down a different path from the natural progression this would've been had Mike been allowed to enjoy a nice spring break in California.

I do believe by the end of S4, Will has completely lost the last vestiges of hope he had left that Mike would ever reciprocate his feelings, especially after Mike's love confession. I think he feels stupid for even allowing himself to believe there was a chance.

I mean, look at him. And, terrifyingly, I feel like that is exactly where Vecna needs him to be at the start of S5.

Sprinkle in some #birthdaygate and voila ... we have the perfect recipe for a horrible Vecna vision.

I don't know how they'll resolve this, but it does feel to me that the intention of Will's S4 arc was to get him to a point of loss of hope, which signifies the death of his dream.

Going into S5, he probably sees this dream now as stupid and childish--an impossibility. Adding to this, there's no way in hell Will is going to confess. Not when this happened and it was never resolved.

The ball is on Mike's court, for better or for worse.

And I think this is also another plot twist we will find out through Vecna: the fact that Will had hope that he and Mike could be together and felt the same way. And that honestly makes whatever Vecna does to Will 10 times worse because if Will had NEVER had hope, then there's nothing new there. But having hope and then having it crushed to the ground? Yeah ... my heart hurts as I type this.

#byler #byler analysis #and does this mean byler endgame? I really freaking hope it does bc maybe Will's dream needs to be restored or changed in some way for the #story to be resolved. I keep going back to how his emotional arc ties the whole show together and this might be a piece of the puzzle.

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roosterforme · 9 months ago

Text

Covering the Classics Part 6 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: In the aftermath of the kiss, Bob and Anna try to process their feelings. Bob works on more of his poetry while Anna hides from her friends, but neither of them can get past their attraction. When another man arrives during a night out, all Bob feels is jealousy.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, masturbation, eventually 18+

Length: 5100 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Taking Anna to Chippy's was a mistake, because Bob was falling harder by the minute. She was cute and smart. Witty and reserved. And the fact that she was a little tipsy after one drink just made her more endearing. Jessica could drink more Sam Adams than anyone he'd ever seen before, and Bradshaw's wife could probably play beer pong professionally, but not Anna. She was giggling and demanding he not download a dating app. She was smiling nonstop and touching him. And he wasn't even allowed to have a chance with her.

She only lived a mile or so from campus, which was a shame, because Bob would have liked to spend more time with her. He played with the radio dials in his old truck as he drove, trying to keep his hands busy. And that's when he swore he heard Anna whisper a line from his poem.

"What did you just say?" he asked, eyeing her closely.

"Nothing," she told him as the car behind his truck honked, and Bob tapped the accelerator when he realized the light was green. He must have been mistaken. There was no way anyone actually read the stuff he posted online, let alone Anna. He just did it for a way to help him release his emotions and thoughts.

But he wanted to make sure. When he parked at the curb in front of her building, he turned toward her with curious eyes and whispered, "I thought you said-"

He was instantly distracted by the way she kept her eyes on his as her chest rose and fell a little faster. She unbuckled her seatbelt and scooted closer to him along the seat, and he froze as she leaned in and kissed him. Her lips found his like it was the most natural thing in the world. When she made a soft sound, he raised his hand up to touch her cheek, something he'd been dying to do for weeks and weeks. Her skin felt silky soft as she nibbled gently on his lip, and then he remembered everything that she'd said to him. He couldn't start down this path just to have her put up another roadblock.

He forced himself away from her. "Anna. I don't think this is something friends do," he croaked, praying that by some twist of face, she'd end up in his arms.

"I'm so sorry," she gasped, hauling herself back across the seat and throwing the door open. "I'm so sorry, Bob." He watched her climb down and grab her tote bag, barely glancing back at him as she slammed the door and ran inside the building.

He was going to offer to walk her to her door. He wanted to make sure she got inside safely. He wanted to do a lot of things that would hopefully come across in a friendly way. This was decidedly not how he imagined his night would end, staring at the spot where she disappeared inside and wondering if she regretted kissing him. She really ran away from him at top speed without any clarification.

"Damn it, Bob," he whispered as he put his truck in gear. But he didn't know what he could have done differently. He just wished he didn't know how fucking good it felt to have Anna's lips on his, because it would probably never happen again. He wanted to ask her why she kissed him in the first place. Then an even more devastating thought occurred to him. What if she didn't want to be his friend after this?

He really needed Nat to come home from her deployment, because he knew he couldn't mention this to Jessica at D&D. What would he even tell her? That Anna kissed him exactly once and then ran away faster than an olympic sprinter?

Then he parked in front of his house and saw the text that made him shove his phone into his pocket and not look at it again until morning.

Anna Webber: I'm sorry. That was a mistake. Please forgive me.

--------------------------

Anna was curled up in her sad bed trying not to cry. Bob would probably never want to talk to her again now. What kind of person told a man they just wanted to be friends and then kissed him like the words meant nothing? Anna, apparently. But it felt so nice. No. Better than that. Kissing Bob felt necessary.

Before she could change her mind, she texted him and then turned off her phone. I'm sorry. That was a mistake. Please forgive me.

She rolled onto her back and started to cry. Not for the first time, she thought about calling Kevin and screaming at him for ruining everything. She should feel a sense of freedom by now after finally leaving him in New Jersey with Alyssa, but she just didn't. It wasn't fair that Anna had no control over what Kevin did when he still seemed to dictate what she was allowed to do. But she knew she had to be a better person than him.

When she reached down to the floor, her fingers found the stack of books she was currently reading for work and for entertainment. She picked up the Vonnegut from Bob, because it wasn't even really that late, and she was in a mood now anyway. Then she took the time to find the note from him. Her new bookmark. She read through her tears until they stopped. She didn't dog ear a single page. She used his note to save her spot, and then she fell asleep with the book pressed to her chest.

She felt awful on Friday at work. When she gave her first lecture, it felt forced instead of insightful, and her notes seemed to blur on the pages in front of her. She didn't have an appetite, which was fine since she had no money for food and forgot to pack a lunch. Instead of going to the weird tree and the nicest women she'd ever met, she sat in her office and cried with her head resting on her folded arms.

Bob didn't text her back, but she figured he wouldn't. There was really nothing else to say. She already decided she wasn't going to mention the kiss to Advanced Calculus or Advanced Physics, but perhaps she should tell them it would be a good thing after all if Bob went on a dating app. He deserved to be happy. Someone else would make him happy.

As Anna was packing up everything she would need for the weekend, there was a knock on her office door. It was late, and her stomach was growling loudly, but she called out, "Come in!"

The room was so small, Bradley Bradshaw and his wife barely fit on the opposite side of her desk when standing side by side, and Anna watched him shuffle around so he was standing partially behind her. "What's up, Anna?" he rasped with a grin, and she had no difficulty imagining him ten years younger in a loud fraternity house.

"Hi," she replied, clasping her hands together. "What are you both doing here? I was just about to catch the bus and go home."

"You never came to lunch today!" her friend complained. "And you didn't text me back. I was starting to get nervous that the creeper from the sociology department got to you or something."

"No," Anna replied with a soft laugh. "I'm fine."

Two pairs of eyes bored into her, and then Bradley and his wife both blurted out, "How was Chippy's?"

"Did Bob make a move?" Bradley asked, his hands caressing his wife through her tweed blazer.

Anna swallowed a huge lump of guilt. "We're just friends," she managed to say.

"Yeah, yeah," he said with an eye roll. "Sure. But did he? Because I've been being a dick all week about getting him on a dating app even though I know he's not into the idea. Jake and I thought it might help."

"Are you serious right now?" his wife gasped, smacking at his hands while Anna rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "I told you not to interfere," she hissed.

"We're just friends," Anna repeated a little louder over the two of them arguing. "Chippy's was great. Amazing peanuts. Sticky floors. Grouchy bartender. It was like being back in undergrad."

Just as Bradley was raising his hand, about to speak again, he took an elbow to the side that seemed to make him think better of it as his wife asked, "Then you won't mind going back on Wednesday? To surprise Jessica for her birthday?"

"It's her birthday?" Anna asked, excited by the idea of being invited to a celebration even though Bob would definitely be there as well.

"Yes. I texted you about it when you skipped out on us at lunchtime."

"Right," she replied, knowing she'd only been checking her phone occasionally on purpose. "I'll be there on Wednesday. Of course I will." She was going to have to suck up her embarrassment over everyone trying to push her and Bob together, but at least they didn't know about the kiss she ran away from. "Anything for Jess."

"And are you coming to the Hard Deck tonight?" her friend asked as her husband's hands crept back into place on her body.

"I have a lot of work to do. Midterms are just around the corner," she replied lamely. "So, probably not."

With a sigh, her friend nodded once and said, "Please don't skip lunch next week. We missed you."

Bradley said, "I'll make extra hummus," before his wife started pushing him to the door.

The confirmation that the hummus was in fact homemade left Anna feeling slightly jealous. That feeling only grew as she watched her friend take Bradley's chin in her hand and softly say, "Oh, Beer Boy. I don't even want to know what kind of a monstrosity of a dating profile you'd make for Bob."

He smiled and waved at Anna before he looked at his wife and said, "I just want all of my friends to be as happy as I am."

She grabbed him by his khaki belt and said, "Let's stop by the library."

Anna desperately wanted to be that happy, too.

---------------------------

"What's your problem, man?" Mickey asked as he drove Bob home from Dungeons & Dragons. "You were weird all night."

"Just tired," Bob replied, and he was being at least partially honest. He'd been staying up later than usual, working on some poetry and reading the books Anna recommended. He enjoyed all of them; she seemed to know exactly how to reach his innermost hidden thoughts and ideas. She somehow understood him, and that was more exciting than he wanted it to be right now. But when he and Anna had to be together in person again, he knew it was going to be a different story. He was almost relieved she didn't show up at the Hard Deck earlier, because he had no idea how to act around her now.

She knew he had feelings for her, and that kiss had roughed him up a bit. Even a couple days afterwards, he thought he could still feel the pressure of her lips on his and smell her shampoo.

"Are you still hung up on Anna?"

Mickey's words made Bob laugh. "More than ever before."

"You know what I think you should do?" his friend asked as he zipped along in his sports car.

Bob cradled his forehead and said, "I'd love to hear it," even though he was pretty sure it would annoy him.

"You should tell her that you don't want to be just friends. And then kiss her."

Bob turned and looked at Mickey as the passing street lights illuminated him and then left him in darkness over and over again. "I'm not going to do that. All I can do is hope she changes her mind." He didn't mention the fact that they had already kissed; he was sure she was too embarrassed by it to want it to become public knowledge.

As Mickey pulled up to Bob's house, he said, "Well whatever you're doing right now, it's not working."

Bob sighed and said, "Thanks. That's really helpful. See you on Monday. Oh, and don't forget about the surprise party thing on Wednesday."

"Yeah, I won't forget. Hard Deck at seven o'clock."

"Chippy's!" Bob called out as he pulled away. Sometimes he felt like the most organized one out of all of his friends, and it was honestly amazing that Mickey even managed to get to work on time. At least Suzanne's lights were off as Bob walked up to his porch and let himself inside. He didn't have the energy to deal with anyone else tonight.

He stripped down to his underwear and got ready for bed, but he took his computer with him. He was ridiculous for doing it, but he looked at the notes he'd typed up last night and started writing. It was never as beautiful or eloquent as the things he read from others, but posting his poetry online felt like he was at least taking ownership of something he created. This poem, however, he didn't know if he'd be able to post it at all. He found himself writing about red hair when he realized it would warrant a mature rating label if he ever did decide to post it. Then he started to think about all the things he wanted to do with Anna and her red hair.

Bob grunted and set his computer aside. She was giving him mixed signals, and he wasn't sure she'd ever change her mind about being with him, but that didn't stop his body from responding as he imagined her beautiful hair spread out on his pillow. He'd take fistfuls of it and press his nose to it. He'd tug gently on it and tell her that she was beautiful. He would press kisses to the coppery strands and then guide her lower on his body as he grasped a little harder.

"Shit," Bob panted, kicking off his covers and pulling himself free from his gray boxer briefs. He jerked off to the idea of Anna and him together. She'd kiss his hips and thighs and laugh softly before licking along his length. His name would sound like the most beautiful poetry on her lips. Her freckles would stand out in the soft lamplight. He'd guide her along with his fingers wrapped around her hair as she teased him.

He stroked himself with his eyes closed, panting softly and whispering some of his own poetry, and he wasn't even surprised when he came all over his flat abs. When he adjusted his glasses with his clean hand, he thought he'd much prefer to see Anna in his bed with him.

--------------------------

Anna was starved for conversation with another human being by the time Monday morning arrived. Forcing herself to be a recluse as a means to distract herself from her plethora of issues was clearly not the answer. Not when she'd actually managed to make some friends in San Diego. She arrived on campus early and stopped in the lounge for a donut only to find nobody else from her department was really around. Then when she gave her first lecture, half of her students looked like they were still asleep. She tucked her new bookmark of sorts into Frankenstein by Mary Shelley and counted down the hours until she could meet her friends for lunch.

Jessica seemed none the wiser about her upcoming surprise party, but that was the whole point of the thing. Anna started bracing herself to spend some more time around Bob, hoping her kiss was so forgettable that he'd already moved on. Honestly, that was a pretty good possibility. She hadn't really considered that before, but it made a lot of sense. She was boring. After another day or two, he'd have probably forgotten all about it.

This helped Anna push herself through the week. On Wednesday, she took the bus home to change, and she knew she'd never make it to Chippy's on time in her sundress and denim jacket unless she took an Uber to the bar. So she gritted her teeth and paid for the ride, wishing for so many reasons that she hadn't kissed Bob so that she could have asked him to pick her up. But when she got to Chippy's, Bob wasn't even there. And Anna was met with a different issue in the form of a very attractive man with dark hair and dark eyes.

She felt his gaze on her as soon as she arrived, surprised he was looking at her of all people. But in her rush to get to Chippy's on time, all she really got to do was say hi to Jake and Bradley before they got her into position for the surprise. It looked like the bar had been reserved just for Jessica tonight, and that made Anna inexplicably happy and sad at the same time. Even that old bartender looked excited to celebrate. Even Dr. Rosenthal showed up.

Then Bob rushed in wearing jeans, a snug fitting tee shirt and a worried expression. His hair looked damp, and he was straightening out his glasses as he glanced around and asked, "Did I make it in time?" Anna felt like someone knocked the wind out of her as he got closer.

"Barely," Bradley replied, checking his watch. "Sugar and Jess should be here any minute. Where the fuck were you?"

Bob's cheeks turned a little pink as he muttered, "I had to help Suzanne with her car. She had a flat tire. And then she insisted I come inside for a few minutes so she could thank me properly. I lost track of time."

Anna crossed her arms and pressed her lips together as Bob came to stand right next to her. When he softly said hello, she just nodded and tried to give him a smile, but she was too overwhelmed with too many different feelings. He smelled like soap, and she knew his body was warm without him even touching her. She didn't know who Suzanne was, but she was automatically a little jealous, which was ridiculous. But now she felt like that kiss last week was as forgettable as she both hoped and feared.

Anna wanted to cry, but even her tears had to take a backseat at the moment as the door to Chippy's opened up and both of her friends walked inside. "Happy birthday!" everyone shouted, and Anna tried her best to look enthusiastic for the occasion.

"No!" Jessica called out, shoving at the other woman's arm as she realized it was her birthday party. "You're sneaky! You lied to me about getting just one birthday beer!" Then she rushed forward in her adorable suit and high heels, heading straight for Jake's arms. But the second person she reached out to hug was Anna.

"Happy birthday, Advanced Physics," she said with a stifled laugh.

"I'm so happy you're here," Jessica gushed, and Anna felt a lot better as she returned the hug.

But all too soon, she was left on her own. At least all of the tables were covered in dishes of peanuts. Jake was paying for Sam Adams for everyone, but Anna knew she shouldn't drink. Not again. Not after she got tipsy with Bob.

She could still feel those dark eyes on her as she broke open a peanut and enjoyed the perfectly salty taste. Who was that guy? His arms were wrapped around Jessica's waist, and Jake looked like he was about to go through the roof as his girlfriend laughed. Then he made his way over to Bradshaw's wife and gave her the same treatment. But Bradley looked completely unfazed when she kissed the other man on the cheek and smiled. They whispered something back and forth, and he met Anna's eyes with a wink. She quickly looked away, hoping to avoid a conversation. Bob was sipping a beer and smashing open his own peanuts, and she knew if she couldn't be with him, she didn't want to be with anyone else either.

Too late. "Hi, are you Anna?" came an unfamiliar voice followed by the spicy scent of too much cologne.

"I am," she answered, looking down at the extended hand of this handsome stranger. "Are you a friend of Jessica's?"

He laughed as their hands met. "Sure," he replied smoothly. "But it's really Bradshaw and I that go way back. I'm Dev. Dev Borah."

"Oh," she said, still shaking his hand and trying to make sense of things. Why was she so awkward? She finally released him and said, "It's... nice to meet you. Um, how do you know Bradley?"

"Virginia. Undergrad. I graduated with the two of them, actually. Nearly died of shock last year when I heard they were both out in San Diego and getting married. Can I get you a drink, Beautiful? Something other than Sam Adams?"

"Oh," Anna gasped as she looked up at him in surprise. "Um... I don't really drink much."

Dev moaned and gripped at his chest dramatically. "You're killing me. I own a brewery!"

Anna could barely tell one type of beer from another, but she wasn't about to tell him that. And quite honestly, talking about making beer sounded interesting enough; she loved learning about new things. But he just called her beautiful. She was flustered and too hot, and then she saw Bob standing off to the side with Mickey, and his expression was one of great displeasure.

"A brewery?" she asked, trying to force her attention back to Dev.

"Beta Brewing," he said proudly. "We're currently working on a two million dollar expansion project. It's kind of a construction zone, but if you ever want to come up to sample the goods, I'd love to have you."

Anna's eyes went wide. That sounded like an innuendo, but Dev's face was calm as he sipped his pint. Anna figured he must be okay if he was friends with all of these people, but she was never going to go there without the girls. "Maybe if everyone else wanted to go, I could tag along?"

Dev laughed and said, "Bradshaw makes the drive frequently enough. I'm sure we'll see each other again. But just to be sure... I could give you my personal number."

----------------------------

Bob was seething. He'd met Dev Borah exactly one time before, and while he'd had pretty neutral feelings about him prior to tonight, now he hated the sight of him. He'd persuaded Anna to have a beer even though Bob heard her say she didn't really want one, and now he was typing something into Anna's phone. He was giving her his number, just like Bob had done so many weeks ago.

"Stop torturing yourself, man," Mickey said, handing Bob some more peanuts.

"You think she likes him?" Bob asked, voice tight as he grabbed the bowl in his shaky hand.

Mickey shrugged next to him. "What's not to like?"

Bob tossed the bowl onto one of the tables. "You're not helping." He walked away to find someone else, anyone else, to talk to. He should have kissed Anna for as long as he could when he had the chance, because it was all he could think about now. It was all he wanted. She kept looking at him; if she was going to talk to Dev all night and say that kissing Bob was a mistake, then why was she looking at him?

He needed to get out of here and go home, but he knew his friends would be disappointed. Even Suzanne would shake her head. Honestly, he'd be annoyed with himself, too. But his mood was something so unfamiliar, he was ready to force himself to talk to the woman standing next to Anna who he thought was from the science department just so he wouldn't feel like a joke.

"You know," Bradley said as he slung his arm around Bob's shoulders, "I had no idea Dev liked redheads so much. But then again, he never was too discerning back in the day."

"What do you want, Rooster?" he asked with a grunt.

"I just wanted to make sure you're having fun at Jess's little shindig."

Bob let Bradley slap him obnoxiously on the back as he asked, "Did you invite Dev? Is he going to give Anna a hard time or anything?" His eyes trailed back over to where Dev was still talking her ear off.

Bradley chuckled. "I invited him to get Jake riled up, but I had no idea you'd be collateral damage." He finally released Bob as he said, "And nah, Dev's harmless."

What Bob wouldn't give to have Natasha back. He missed her terribly, and all the guys seemed to be better behaved when she was around. But she'd take one look at Anna and probably embarrass him in front of her even more.

"I think I'm actually going to head home," came Anna's voice filtering over to Bob as she finally cut Dev off. "It was nice to meet you."

"Let me drive you," he replied immediately, and Bob could already picture him getting Anna settled into his Mercedes-Benz, his fingers grazing her bare thigh.

"No, that's okay," she told Dev as she backed away from him. "I'm just going to say goodbye to Jessica, and then I'll get an Uber."

She made her escape to the table next to where Bob stood, and Jessica gave her a big hug. "Happy birthday," Anna told her once again, followed softly by, "I'm glad we're friends."

Jessica squealed and hugged her tighter. "Me too."

"I'm going to call an Uber and head out," Anna was saying, but Jessica was already looking around.

"No way. It's dark out, and someone here can drive you home. Hey, Bob? Can you drive Anna home?"

He knew he was going to say yes even though part of him didn't want to. And there was another part of him that assumed she'd just say Dev offered to take her. But when Anna looked up at him, he nodded and immediately said, "Of course."

To his surprise, Anna looked a little relieved as she took a step closer. "Are you sure you don't mind?" she asked him with a little wince.

"Not one bit. I was planning on heading home, and it's on the way."

Bob accepted a sloppy kiss on the cheek from Jessica who was well on her way to being drunk. Then he dug his keys from his pocket and nodded toward the door. Anna followed closely next to him, but unlike the last time they were at Chippy's, he didn't touch her. When Bob held the door open, he looked back over his shoulder at Dev who raised his pint glass with a smile of defeat, but he didn't really care about anyone except Anna.

"Thanks," she muttered, walking out into the cool, night air.

"Did you have a good time?" Bob asked, putting a little more space between them as he pointed up the block toward his truck.

Anna laughed, but the sound was tight and forced. "It was okay. I think Jessica was having fun, which is the most important thing, you know?"

"Yeah," he agreed, squeezing his key in his hand as all of the images of their kisses returned. Everything he thought about when he wrote new poetry and touched himself to completion. He swallowed hard; even being around Anna was a lot for his senses. He couldn't blame Dev for trying, but their interactions made him jealous. "Did you get Dev's number?"

Anna stumbled a bit on the sidewalk as she looked up at him, but he kept his eyes focused straight ahead. "I didn't ask for it. He just kind of gave it to me," she said softly. "He invited me up to his brewery to try some beers. When I told him I'm not much of a beer drinker, he said he'd really enjoy teaching me about the process."

"I'm sure he would," Bob muttered, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

When he reached his truck, he wrenched the passenger door open for Anna, and she glowed softly in the dim, orange interior lighting. "He's a bit much," she said, looking up at him.

Bob nodded once, but she didn't make a move to climb in. "I don't know him very well, but I know he likes to hear himself talk." When she still didn't move, Bob asked, "Are you going to call him? Give him the opportunity?"

"I already told you..." she said firmly. "I can't be in a relationship right now, so I wouldn't want to encourage Dev. And I'm really, really sorry about last week, Bob." She fidgeted with her hands and added, "But if I were in a place where I wanted to start something, I wouldn't pick him."

"Really?" Bob asked as his heart pounded. The most depraved part of him wanted to hear her say she liked him more than Dev. More than anyone.

"Really," she whispered, placing her hand on the seat. "I like old trucks better than fancy sports cars."

That was enough confirmation for Bob. His skin was tingling with anticipation he knew he couldn't quench, but he didn't mind as much now as he did ten minutes ago. "Yeah... you could do way better than a multi millionaire anyway."

Anna's laughter in response was so genuine, Bob laughed, too. The drive to her place was quiet but not as strained as he was afraid it would be, and when he was about a block away, she took her phone out and started messing around with it. "Thanks, Bob," she said as he pulled up to the curb.

He cleared his throat. "You know how you told me you didn't think I should use the dating app? Because I didn't need it?"

"Yeah?" she asked, reaching for the door handle but looking at him.

He squeezed the steering wheel tight in both hands and said, "Well, I don't think you need Dev's phone number." He watched her jump down and turn to glance his way, and then she smiled.

"I already deleted it. Thanks again for the ride. Maybe I'll see you this weekend?"

He nodded once before she closed the door. As she walked inside, he said, "I hope so."

----------------------------

Oh. Oh, okay. She prefers you, Bob! Now get ready for action. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls. And thanks @attapullman for all the underwear discussions.

PART 7

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humanitys-strongest-brat · 4 months ago

Text

Kintsugi - ch. 1

Summary: After an injury causes you to lose your spot in the World Figure Skating Championship your last hope falls into the hands of Levi Ackerman, a former Olympic competitor.

Pairing: Coach!Levi x Injured fem!Reader

CW: Injury, major themes of depression and hopelessness. 18+ mdni

wc: 3.2k

a/n: Starting off with a huge thank you to @tobbi-loves-levi for helping me throughout the process of making this fic and always listening to me yap about my ideas. This is my first chaptered fanfic and I'm very excited to share it~

dedicated song - dividers 1/2 - masterlist

You cry out as your hip collides with the ground. Rolling into a sitting position you pull your left leg up by the knee. Just resting your blade on the ice sends another shock of pain through your ankle and up your leg. You let out a hiss and squeeze your eyes shut.

You refuse to believe it, deep down you know you just sustained a serious injury. You tell yourself it's not that bad.

get up.

walk it off.

Come on.

Your breathing staggers as you twist your body and pull yourself into a kneel, your good foot anchoring on the ice ready to stand back up. The pain is excruciating.

“Stay Down!” your coach shouts as she races towards you. “Sit back down.” She demands, and you listen, carefully pulling your weight onto your left hip, carefully settling back down onto the ice.

Coach Tarasov bends down, instructing you to extend your leg out. When you do she carefully applies light pressure to your boot, only nudging it a little to confirm her fears. Your hand immediately flies over your mouth, you curse and wince in pain. “Not good,” She breathes out “Let’s get you up and off the ice” she says, her voice stern and serious, you know now that it’s really bad, you don't want to believe it.

“Coach,” your lip quivers as you look up at her, you feel destroyed. Panic fills your body and your throat is burning. “...Worlds-” Part of you is humiliated. Sure, you’ve cried in front of Coach Tarasov before; during long sessions that never seemed to end, practicing jumps you couldn't land no matter how many times you tried, watching your peers excel on your bad days. This was different.

This was devastating.

Mid February, four weeks before the World Figure Skating Championship. It was just like any other practice. today you were doing triple toe loops and landed wrong.

You can’t contain your sobs as your coach helps you up. She urges you to hold your foot up while she pulls you to the rink’s exit. When you finally sit down on the bench you notice how tight your boot feels. Holding back your sobs causes you to shake as Coach Tarasov kneels in front of you to untie your skate. “I’m just going to look at it.” She tries to sound comforting, but you can hear the disappointment that laces her words, the acceptance in her tone. Like she knew you were done right then and there without even seeing it.

Your panicked sob catches in your throat as she pulls the boot off, every surge of pain was just as bad as the last. You can't look, you keep your eyes on your coach. When she peels back your nylon sock she stops and stares for a second before letting out a sigh and dropping her head down in defeat. “You need an X-ray,” she says plainly, only confirming your worst fear. “You can't drive, I'll call an ambulance.” she leans back and requests an ice pack from the rink employee standing over the two of you, observing. You're only just now noticing he was there.

“Stay calm, we don't know anything yet.” You know she's lying. You pick your head up and see your fellow competitors have stopped to watch. Most look shocked, some seem to be showing pity. You lock eyes with your friend and fellow contestant Mikasa Ackerman, her eyes well with tears as she watches you. That’s when you finally accept that your dreams are ruined.

***

You stare up at the blinding lights of the emergency room ceiling, waiting for the results the X-ray ordered to rule out a fracture. Arms folded over your chest, you simmer in the acceptance that everything you worked for your whole life is gone.

This was your first year qualifying and being invited to participate in the World Championship, you knew after your performances in the Grand Prix and Nationals that you had secured your place and a chance to take gold at Worlds. Competitive skaters everywhere spend their lives training and competing for the chance to get where you were, just as you had, only for one accident to take it all away from you and hand it off to the next person.

You blink back more tears, easily warding them off since the initial shock of everything drained you. The uncertainty of your career plagued your mind. The excitement and determination to compete was gone, replaced with the dread of agonizing failure. All you wanted to do was go home and sulk. An apartment you rented in the city chosen to host this season’s training sessions with a handful of competitors. Everything reminded you of your loss, even the place designed for you to decompress at the end of the day, your apartment was a representation of the things you endured and achieved to make it to the World Championship to begin with, now it’s just a roof over your head to house you while you heal and watch your dreams slip through your fingers like sand. You're wiping away tears with the sleeve of your shirt as the doctor enters the room.

He strides into the room, greeting you as he pinned your X-ray up and flicked the light on to illuminate the image. You pull yourself upright on the bed, even in this moment your chest fills with hope for good news. “It’s not fractured,” he says, pulling a pen from his breast pocket. You sigh out in relief. A fracture or break was the worst case scenario, and at least you’re safe from that. He lifts his arm, extending his pen out to the board and pointing at the areas of your ankle with speckled white spots “what you’re looking at is a grade two moderate ankle sprain, you have some torn ligaments” he explains, slowly circling his pen over the white spots highlighted by the bright glow behind the picture. “Based on your X-Ray, swelling, and pain level at intake, we’ll have you in a boot for two to four weeks.” Your heart sinks again, it’s not like you forgot that this injury took something from you, but you got excited too fast hearing it wasn’t as bad as you originally feared. You listen and nod as he goes through the details of the first phase of healing, just as you imagined, stay off of it, never put pressure on it, keep it iced and elevated. “After the boot comes off, you’ll start immediately with physical therapy. They will determine when you have the green light to return to your usual activities.”

You stare at him, feeling it all come back. “Physical therapy? Isn’t that a little intense for just a sprain?” You plead, your voice shaking again.

He points again to your X-ray, and those damned white streaks on your ankle. “This is not an injury to be taken lightly, I strongly recommend you stick to your treatment plan to prevent possible irreversible damage. Especially as an athlete.” He warns.

You get your boot, and you’re promptly discharged and wheeled out to coach Tarasov’s car. They help you into the passenger seat and that’s it. You’re left to face this all on your own now.

Before you leave, you hand coach your discharge documents and lean your head on the window. The sound of the pages turning as she skims through sends pangs straight to your chest. She rests a hand on your shoulder but you refuse to face her. “I’ll make the calls, I need copies of this and your X-rays” she said with caution.

You cried the entire drive home.

***

The three weeks of recovery before you’re cleared to take the boot off could be described as nothing less than hell. You barely left your bed for the first five days, you ignored calls, you didn’t take care of yourself. Your parents found out online, you only answered their persistent calls so they would stop worrying. Days started blending together quickly, when you weren’t crying you felt nothing, even your phone proved itself a shitty distraction. Your name was everywhere, the news of your injury and drop from the championship chased you on every app you used.

After a week you deleted all your social media.

The start of the second week it dawned on you that the competition was just over two weeks away, and you wouldn’t be there. It made you sick to even think about watching it and keeping up with the scores. Several times a day you wonder how you would have done had your injury never happened. Would you have taken gold? Thinking on it now, if you knew this was the alternative you would have been happy to place at all, just to be there. You took it all for granted, high on success.

At the end of the third week, you’re out of the boot and booked to start physical therapy, just this week you started eating and taking care of yourself again, you leave the blinds and windows open to let in some fresh air. Every step you take still reminds you of what you could’ve had, you walk with a limp.

***

You decide to watch the Women’s singles program only, anything more would have only twisted the knife. You watch with a bottle of wine and a box of tissues.

You feel genuinely happy to watch Mikasa perform, part of you was living through her as you watched. Mostly you’re happy she gets to experience this for herself, you know how much it means to her.

She placed 6th overall, you cried tears of joy for her.

***

You’re given an estimate of eight to twelve weeks of physical therapy. when you do the math, you can’t hold back your grin. Even the longest course of recovery would have you back on ice just in time for the start of the next skating season. You decide right then that you’ll be back on the ice competing in next year's World Championship no matter what it took.

Mid April you finish the first phase of physical therapy, three weeks of balance training taking a decent chunk of confidence from you. to put it bluntly, it was horrible. The pain was almost completely gone, it only hurt during specific exercises. Your balance was abysmal, any added weight beyond walking had your ankle shaking. You knew you could do it, you just had to make it past this part.

Early May, during strength training with your physical therapist, your phone buzzes in your pocket. After your program you excuse yourself for a much needed break and check your phone to see a text from Mikasa, you catch yourself smiling. It’s been weeks since anyone reached out to you.

Mikasa ⛸️💨

“Been too long, I miss you! Free for a quick lunch today?”

You can barely contain your happiness, it shocks you how quickly you text back, letting her know what time you’d be available, and to your surprise it works out. You agree on a location and after your session you rush home to get ready, taking extra time to ensure you don’t look like a husk of your former self when you see her for the first time in over two months.

When you approach her at the table, she stands up and immediately pulls you into a tight hug, gripping your shirt in her fists as she squeezes. You congratulate her on her placement in the championship and quickly you’re catching up on everything the two of you missed during your time apart.

“So, how’s that going?” Mikasa asks about your physical therapy after you mention that you're about half way through, almost cleared to begin off-ice sport specific exercises.

You look down, biting your lip before you respond “honestly? Not well.” You begin explaining how you’ve felt the past couple of weeks, even mentioning that you decided to return to competitive skating this upcoming July. “It doesn't feel like it’s enough. My ankle is still shit, it’s enough to gain back mobility but I can tell I’m not where I need to be.” Your voice shakes a little. Mikasa is a wonderful listener, she never breaks eye contact or interrupts, she lets you unload all your grief. “I know I can do better, they won’t let me push myself, my home based exercises are strict.” You explain.

Mikasa doesn’t say much, and that’s okay, you were happy just to be here with her after weeks of seclusion, only leaving your apartment for physical therapy. It took weight off your shoulders to talk with someone about what you were going through, and no one could understand you better in this moment than Mikasa.

When your lunch arrives the conversation dulls down to casual pleasant tidbits of information of Mikasa’s life post competition, eventually she tells you that she’s recompeting herself. You couldn’t be more happy for her.

Somewhere in the endless chatting you can tell something is on her mind, she detaches from the conversation a couple times, staring down at the table before snapping out of it and apologizing. Eventually she excuses herself. “Sorry, I’ll be right back” she promises and makes her way outside. Your brows stay knit as you crane your body to watch her walk out until she’s just out of view. You sigh when you turn back, that was definitely odd, but you decide maybe it’s best not to press when she comes back.

She’s gone for no longer than five minutes, when she sits back down it’s like nothing was ever bothering her to begin with. You’re tempted to ask but it couldn’t be too bad if she looked this relieved coming back. The two of you finish your meals and send your bills off to be paid, she grins at you from across the table.

“What?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

Mikasa quickly reaches in her bag, grabbing her planner and pen from the bottom and dropping it on the table, she quickly flips to one of the back pages and scribbles something down fast. “Here.” She says, ripping the sheet from its binding and sliding it across the table towards you.

You raise a brow and stare at the page that’s text side down. After a moment you finally bite “what is this?” You ask, pulling it towards you and lifting it up, looking back towards Mikasa.

“My cousin is a rehabilitation coach,” she begins, letting her excitement take over. “For competitive figure skaters. He agreed to work with you for me.”

You have no words, you just blink at her. When you finally take a quick glance at the page you notice a phone number and email address written across the page “Mikasa, this is..” you don’t know how to feel, this came up so quick “I don’t know-.. I appreciate-“

She cuts you off “Please take the offer, I insist. He has an opening.” She says “Levi’s great, high success rate. I can get you more information if you need it.”

Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach “Levi..Ackerman..?” you breathe out, now staring down at the paper in your hands. You should have known he was related to Mikasa. Hell, you don’t even know why you never thought about it to begin with. They share the same last name. “He was injured at the Olympics all those years ago.” you think aloud, unable to take your eyes off the page.

“That’s the one,” Mikasa beams “and he doesn’t like to talk about it. So maybe don’t start with that when you call him later.”

You look up from the page at Mikasa “I don’t know what to say.” Truthfully you didn’t even know rehabilitation coaches even existed, your current coach and physical therapist never mentioned that as an option.

“Don’t say anything. Just call him later, and tell me how that goes.” Her voice was firm, but her eyes were nothing but gentle.

When the two of you eventually get up and walk out together you stop in the parking lot to give Mikasa one final hug before you split again. “Thank you so much.” you whisper.

“Don’t mention it,” she replies, pulling back and letting her hands rest just above your elbows, “and don’t be a stranger anymore.”

***

When you arrive home, you catch yourself staring down at the contact information that was given to you. Nervousness didn’t even begin to describe how you felt. This wasn’t just any coach, or another physical therapist. It was Levi Ackerman. He was a part of the best figure skating pairs, finally making it to The Olympics with his partner before the accident.

You haven’t even come close to a skating rink since nearly breaking your ankle almost three months ago now. Working with a rehabilitation coach to get to your previous level of skating wasn’t even a fleeting thought. Hell, you didn’t even know those kinds of coaches existed until today. What if you were just wasting his time? Surely a coach like him is a privilege, right? Letting your nerves get the best of you, the contact info sits idly on your bedside table as you drift off into a world of ice and gold medals.

***

The next morning, your dream fresh in your mind, you grab the contact from your nightstand. Ignoring the blaring anxiety, you dial the number without too much thought. The more you think about it, the more inviting backing out feels. The dial tone sounds, causing you to begin pacing your apartment. No more blaming the injury, no more blaming the physical therapy program. You couldn’t just keep sitting around, wondering about the what ifs when you were handed a golden ticket. You’d be crazy to pass this up, even if it was just a chance.

“Took you long enough.” A rich warm voice answers the phone, stopping you dead in your tracks in the kitchen. How the hell did he even know it was you? How were you even meant to respond to a greeting like that anyway. “I was beginning to think you changed your mind.” He states

“Uh, no.” You reply quickly, tapping your fingers on the kitchen counter to give your free hand something to do. “No I didn’t change my mind, I’m interested.” you cursed yourself, trying to sound so formal. This was the type of thing coach Tarasov always took care of, you were completely out of your element.

“Great,” he says, you have trouble reading his tone but you try not to think too much of it. Over the phone you hear a series of keyboard clicks and your phone buzzes against your ear “I sent a couple things to your email,” did Mikasa already give him your information? “Go ahead and authorize your physical therapy records over, send me copies of your X-rays and prescribed treatment plan, and sign the following documents.” He lists off “after that, I’ll work up a schedule compatible with your PT, I’ll be in contact.”

If you were nervous before there wasn’t a word to describe how you feel now. “Thank you, I look forward to working with you.”

“Have a nice day.” he says in the same tone, your phone beeps to indicate the call has ended.

Taglist: @amywritesthings @littlerequiem @humanitys-strongest-bamf @hideandgopeep (please let me know if i missed you and ill add you on to ch 2)

#levi ackerman #captain levi #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x fem!reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #tw: injury #tw: depression #fic: Kintsugi

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pseudowho · 1 year ago

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Infiltration, Chapter Eight: Unchained

Nanami Kento and the reader must pretend to be married to infiltrate a deadly Curse-user cult and take it down from the inside.

*SMUT/NSFW/18+*

THE FINAL CHAPTER!!

A slow-burn fic with fluff/comfort, angst, smut and heroics from our favourite salaryman.

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Kento broke into a jagged run, as an almighty roar burst from the writhing mass above him, the many faces within it screaming in shrill tandem. Kento stumbled, slipping in the rot, cutting his palms open on shards of bone and gristle on his way to you, still hanging, chained, against the wall.

Kento's hands clamped instantly to your face, crying out in disgust and panic as he smeared it with blood and rancid muck. His hands roamed you desperately, from chains, to face, to sliced belly, to waist, to chains, uttering frantic breaking moans-- "no no no, darling please, wake up, I can't do this, I can't do this, please, please". Your pale, lax face shot through him like shards of ice and he sobbed, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your mouth, trying to push life from his own body to yours.

His shredded palms settled on your chains, and Kento roared in frustration as he felt his Cursed-energy output dwindle to nothing the moment he touched them. Kento spun, dropping to his knees and scouring the floor for anything he could use. His hands were scattered, stinging, and landed on a discarded, gouged long-bone; a femur, mostly intact. The biblical darkness crept closer above him, hungry, eager, tentacles and limbs slapping down the walls of this vast deep well towards you.

Brandishing the femur as a weapon, imbuing it with every shred of power he had, Kento stepped into the hit and slashed the wall above your chains in a devastating blow. A spray of damp brick and rubble had the wall buckling, and as the chain's tethers were released, your body slumped downwards. Kento caught you, shielding you from the falling debris, cradling you in his arms as he, you and the chains slapped to the slick icy floor.

Clutching your body to his, Kento begged you to live, begged the empty chamber around him for help-- "I can't-- I can't help you-- don't go yet please don't go yet, we can make it, you can make it...fuck, please!" His trembling hand crept to your belly, glugging blood in lazy, weakening pulses, and Kento's eyes drifted closed.

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"I can get her to Shoko, Nanami-san. It won't be a problem...I know you hate working late. I'm sorry."

"This isn't work. This is...something more. I needed to be here. She needed--" Kento's voice cut off as Ijichi continued to bow his head in apology before him. Kento felt the first heavy splatters of warm summer rain, the sky pregnant with humid downpour. Kento looked to you-- bloody, eyes fixed in mute horror, wrapped in his suit jacket in the passenger seat of his car.

Kento tipped his face back towards the sky, eyes closed, Ijichi unable to see how his face twisted in helpless agony, rage, disgust. He felt the heavy spatters of raindrops on his cheeks, his glasses. He did not know for how long he stood, still. His beige suit had turned tan, his navy shirt sodden, stuck to him, black and warm in this tropical storm.

He wished to be wiped clean. He wished you could sleep and forget. He wished to be baptised and ordained in the arms of someone more powerful than him. He wished, he wished, he wished.

Kento blew it all away, smooth and restrained as he felt trickles run down him, from his shoulders to his belly. He looked back down to Ijichi, his glasses removed and pocketed now, his gaze passive, authoritative.

"She's uninjured. No need to make any more work for Shoko. I'll get her home and...and safe." Ijichi's face contorted in apology again-- not vague apology; sincere apology, grief for the unlived life he had to administrate.

Ducking under the un-trickling veil once more, Kento reached his car, hesitating for just a moment on the door handle before stepping in, sodden against his leather seats. With barely a sideways glance to you, he reached over, the backs of his fingers ghosting over your bare arm. With a grunt, Kento rumbled the engine to life, setting the heaters to maximum.

Kento twisted in his seat, unbelted, and gently grasped your hands. As if dead, in rigor mortis, your limbs refused movement, tight against yourself as Kento tried to urge your hands towards the air vents. He huffed lightly as you trembled, trying to draw your hands back.

"I can't bring her back," Kento strained, his voice tight with regret, "but I can keep you warm. Please. Darling."

Your arms relaxed, melting under Kento's warmth and urgency, and you allowed him to press your hands to the leather-sweet whoosh of warm air. You trembled, nauseous and numb. You stayed this way as Kento reached around you, threading the belt and buckling you in before fixing his own. The car rolled to a start. You had little to no memory of the journey home.

Kento had carried you to your door, seeming so small in his arms, in his suit jacket. Placing you down with utmost delicacy, Kento gripped your upper arms as if afraid you'd fall, before cautiously letting go. He eyed your lock, and surveyed you; no keys, he surmised. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out an army knife, multi-functional, well-used, Scandinavian branded. Within seconds, the lock of your door was jimmied open and you were ushered inside.

You had vague memories of being lovingly cleaned with a bowl of warm water, a gentle soft cloth meticulously cleaning blood from your fingernails. Of being verbally dressed, Kento's voice smooth and encouraging outside your bedroom door as your shaking hands pulled pyjamas on. Of being fed, hot soup brought in steady mouthfuls to your lips. Of being tucked into bed, hair stroked out of your free-flowing tears. Of his steadfast presence in the armchair beside your bed as you drifted into an uneasy sleep.

You awoke, your home empty, the apologies for which seemingly drifting like dust-motes in the air around you. Kento had cooked, cleaned, left fresh clothes out for you.

In your shame, and your grief, you saw yourself as a burden. Kento gave you space, always wondering if it was too much or too little.

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There was a pause between heartbeats as panic ebbed away. Kento felt a wave of warmth sweep through him, ushering him, as soft as a wave, to a state above his own body, outside himself, as weightless as a breath. The wave swept back out to sea, taking Kento's warmth with it; he gave it, its strength amplified through his willingness, trickling out through fingertips.

With a gasp and a thump, Kento's heart started again, and you twisted, coughing in his arms, gripping his biceps with cold fingers. Kento choked, gasping and coughing, and you climbed up his lap, your eyes feverish with pain and confusion. Kento swayed, drained.

"You're back-- you're...you're back," he stuttered in disbelief, shaky hands lifting your top and stroking reverently across your intact belly, before rising up to cup your face, his eyes brimming with relief, adoration, joy. You shook, wet cold seeping into your bones, still feeling the handle of death's door in your grasp.

"Kento...what did-- what did you--" Your voice trailed off, disbelieving as you knelt, wet-steel-chafing chains clanking on your wrists. With matching soft smiles, you leaned towards each other, foreheads pressed, clinging in the dark.

As you opened your mouth to speak again, you felt an instinctual sting run down your spine as something powerful, something old stabbed out of the gloom behind you. You grasped Kento, rolling him sideways with you, and felt the air split beside your cheek as a foul black tendril shot like a lance, missing you by a hair's breadth and piercing, instead, into the brickwork on the opposite side of the well.

Kento lay on his side, stunned-- he hadn't felt anything approach. He and you had almost been impaled. His near-fatal exhaustion left him reeling, scraping the barrel, his Cursed-energy depleted by the first and only successful Reverse-cursed technique of his life. He couldn't feel the toes on his broken leg now, and, concerningly, the burning pain had reduced to dull, hot throbs.

As blood whooshed through his ears, sound crept back in and he heard you-- "...up! Kento, get up, we've got to go, we've got to get ou--" Kento felt you stand and draw his arm over your shoulders, and you lifted him with the vigour he had sacrificed to bring you to life.

You roared with exertion as you half-dragged, half-carried Kento partway across the chamber, until he seemed to find his own again, and stumbled with you, his pale face clenched with determination. Ugly crunches shook the ground behind you. Diamond-tipped black tendrils stabbed through the dark, missing you both, rending the ground as the eldritch horror above you roared, hungry, hungry, hungry.

Reaching the rungs of the ladder clinging to the well, you gazed up, stomach sinking as you realised the corrupted goddess blocked your ascension to safety, even if you did both make it up the ladder unscathed. In mute devastation, you gaped. Kento pressed his palms to the wall, pressing his ear flat to it, knocking experimentally with grazed knuckles.

As Kento stepped backwards, drawing back a fist to bring the wall down, seeking a break in the foundations, the fast approaching black tendrils retreated upwards with a snap and a screech-- you both heard shouts above, and the Goddess bellowed, jagged and shrieking, in pain, under attack.

"Nanami! Nanami?" Kento stepped forward, eyes skyward at the sound of Ino's voice. The Goddess reeled backwards, uncovering the surface of the well, and a rumble sounded above, debris falling as she slammed into the walls of the Shrine. Hope sprang up in both of your throats, wordlessly clutching hands as the sounds of battle sprang down the well.

"Nue!" A great masked owl swooped down towards you, landing with a skid, bones crunching beneath its great talons. Upon its back, Megumi leaned forwards, reaching a hand out to you. You faltered as Kento pushed you forwards, and you dug your heels in.

"No, Megumi. Kento first. He's injured." Kento spun to you, clench-jawed and fuming before you pushed him to Megumi. Before Kento could argue, Megumi pulled him towards Nue, and Kento stumbled, clambering upon great red feathers before urging you up into his lap, his thick forearms bound around your waist. With a gut-lurching jolt, the ground leapt away beneath you, and you and Kento felt the frigid slap of snow against your cheeks above the rim of the well.

Landing upon the ground, stepping off, your vision filled with the dreadful horror of the corrupted Goddess. You gasped, recognising the naked human form at its core, buckling under the weight of the twisting bodies and tendrils bursting from its back, vast, almost filling the huge hollow chamber. The woman who had spat venom at you, beaten you to within an inch of your life, on only your second night in the village--

"Emi," you breathed. The pale form of the woman was as a corpse, animated and possessed, as the poisoned Goddess poured out of her, the vessel too small for her containment. Kento was momentarily paralyzed beside you, stunned and reliving his final fight with Haibara Yuu, against a Cursed local deity; boyish terror stripped him bare, no longer a man, no longer a young adult, just a child, a boy, left to fight alone in the dark--

"I'll go," Kento forced, desperate to make amends, bile churning in his belly. You spun to him, to argue, and he interrupted, "I'll go. This needs to end, we need to finish her--"

You stared at Kento in disbelief. You stared into the chaos around you, at brutal short battles being waged between the sorcerers of Tokyo and the remaining few cult members. You stared at Ino, Megumi, Yuuji, Maki, Nobara...all fighting desperately, to keep the eldritch Goddess at bay, fighting a losing battle. You ran your hands in anguish through puzzle pieces, desperate, desperate--

"...but they're dead," you spat, as Kento gripped your shoulders, breathing heavily in his agony, frowning, questioning.

"I...what?" Kento was drowsy, drunk with threatened collapse. His eyes blurred as you nodded frantically to him, cupping his face in your palms.

"The people...the people they fed to the Goddess, they're dead, but that Cursed-energy...is too much to be her own. If they're dead, their Cursed-energy should have died with them."

You watched as the information trickled into Kento, his slim brown eyes flickering as his mathematical brain whirred, remembering Father Tatsu, remembering the brothers' techniques...

"...well no, he...the Father he...stole the peoples' Cursed-energy first and imbued the Goddess with it, to...to make her strong."

With a dull thud of realisation, Kento understood. Ino hit the floor with a sickening crash beside him, scrabbling upright again, his bloody nose oozing out through his balaclava. The Goddess shrieked, black arms flailing, now some eerie creature of the deep, and wildly overpowering the team sent to destroy it.

"Fuck," Ino spat, lurching sideways, staggered, "how is it so fucking strong?"

"The Father who originally transferred all the Cursed energy is still alive," Kento barked, "Father Shinzu. It's the only way, if the original Cursed energy owners are dead." With a hopeful pang, Kento realised the same applied to Father Tatsu, who would be rendered all but harmless with the death of his brother.

"So, kill the transfer-guy, Goddess goes back to being a pussycat, yeah?" Ino nodded, joining the ranks of sorcerers now backing away from the writhing Goddess, "Oh! Almost forgot..."

Reaching behind his back, Ino pulled something harnessed from under his sweatshirt. Kento could have cried to see his spotted blunt-blade, heavy and trustworthy in his hands again. Kento felt he had nothing left to give, but was suddenly safer with his beloved weapon to fight alongside. Kento squeezed Ino's shoulder, and Ino almost melted at the strength of silent thanks passed through him by his mentor.

Reaching out for your hand, Kento impeached you with eyes and words; "come with me," he pressed, leaning down, nose to nose, "we finish this together, or not at all." Hands grazing his jaw, pressing your lips and forehead slowly to his, you nodded.

"Together," you whispered. Kento gripped you by the waist, bound together, as much for him as for you.

"Ino," Kento rumbled, "you hold her off. We'll kill the Father. This will all be over." Ino grinned, saluting, and turned to take charge of the motley crew of sorcerers.

Looking keenly at Kento, you saw the slow blink of his eyes, the slight slump of his shoulders, how his grip wasn't as true on his blade as usual.

"Yuuji," you called, and the boy turned to you with wide eager eyes, "Nanamin's hurt. Come with us." Kento frowned at you again, cross at having been identified as weakened. Yuuji looked at his father-figure, concerned, afraid. With a pause and brief hesitation in the swirling snow, Kento nodded once. Yuuji bounced to attention, the three of you hushing out through the snowstorm, beginning to make your way down the hill back to the Fathers' quarters in search of Father Shinzu.

Visibility was next to nil in this sea of white. The scarlet torii gate split through the storm, but it looked...warped, irregular, as if shattered by something, or someone--

Kento lifted you by the waist, throwing you into a snowdrift with a roar as an almighty crunch split the ground between you, a devastating seam running up the path towards the Shrine. Kento's ears rang, and when the sound faded, all he could hear was his own agonal gasping, so desperately exhausted.

Dust settled over the black crack in the earth; Father Tatsu stood, snarling in pain, twisted over, wrenching his fist from the earth.

"Enough of your interfering, Tsuda," he bellowed, convulsing like a wounded bear, "you and your slut can go hang." Kento snarled back, seeing red as gut-churning rage filled his belly at Father Tatsu's slur. Yuuji circled to the side, head low and ready to pounce. You were gone, lost somewhere in the snow drift.

Kento twizzled his blade once in his grip, before rocking forward, the ground cracking beneath his feet as he panned for scraps of Cursed energy, and found gold. He brought his blade down on the junction of Father Tatsu's neck and shoulder, and the old man crumpled to one knee, crying out in pain, his body woefully unable to contain his stolen power.

"You're dying," Kento hissed, teeth bared in fire and fury, "and you're taking us all down with you." Father Tatsu laughed, one hand on the blade, shaking, his teeth gory with the blood of his bitten tongue. He spat a thick glob of blood and phlegm into Kento's eyes, and Kento's head snapped involuntarily back. Father Tatsu took his chance, kicking Kento's injured leg out from beneath him.

Yuuji bullrushed Father Tatsu, all vigour and inexperience, and was hit with a gut-bursting blow to his belly. As Yuuji fell to his knees, retching and vomiting, Father Tatsu stood over him hands clasped together in one great fist, Cursed-energy belching out of him, to strike a deadly blow to the back of Yuuji's head.

A warning jangle rang behind Father Tatsu, and his head turned imperceptibly, too slow to stop you wrapping your arms round his neck, throttling him with the restraining chains still clamped to your wrists. The thin old skin of Father Tatsu's throat tore beneath the icy chains, their power dulling his Cursed-energy for a few crucial seconds.

"Now, Kento-- NOW!" you screamed, clinging to Father Tatsu as he bucked, strangled. Kento forced himself upwards, and the downy flakes seemed to slow around him, as he entered a state somewhere between rage and serenity. With a crack and flash of black and red, Kento brought his blade down on his own forced gradient.

Father Tatsu died instantly, split from neck to groin in an attack which sent you flying back in the snow. Skidding to a halt, you would remember Kento this way for the rest of your life; black long coat flapping in the wind, snowflakes melting into his bloodsoaked hair, heaving with white-knuckled rage against the monochromatic landscape.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You would not allow Yuuji to kill the comatose old man, surrounded by his own weeping wife and begging nurses.

Shackled to life with cruel intention, brain dead after his efforts to combine Emi with the Goddess, Father Shinzu's bedroom was incongruously crowded by medical equipment. Sounds of life were replaced by regular, irritating bleeps, the mechanical hiss-whirr of a ventilator, the steady march of his own enforced heartbeat.

"I'm sorry," you choked, sincere and nauseous, walking forward with conviction, your fingers settling over pumps, and machines, and devices, the pretence of life, "it has to be this way. He has to die."

Father Shinzu's wife darted forwards as you began to turn off equipment. Her tearstained, twisted face broke your heart as you ended Father Shinzu's life support. Yuuji flung out an arm, holding her back, pale as he watched you work.

Father Shinzu's heart beat for only a few moments after the beeps of the equipment ceased...and the room soon rang with the reedy bleep of his heart flat lining, as his wife screamed at you to stop, furious helplessness in her eyes. Yuuji let go of her, turning with his face in his hands as Kento entered the room.

You stood, eyes closed and silently weeping. The overwhelming pulses of Cursed energy from the Shrine died with Father Shinzu. A few ear-splitting screeches from the top of the snowy hill...and, the unmistakeable silence of the grave.

"You bitch," Father Shinzu's wife screeched, lurching to her feet, rushing at you, and you had the barest moment to see a metallic glint in her hand, "you ungrateful bitch!"

A field of black in your vision- a dull thud, a gasp of air leaving lungs.

"Nanamin-- NANAMIN!"

Your hands shook, head shaking in silent disbelief as Kento dropped to his knees in front of you, and he stared, stunned, at the knife in his chest. He turned to look up at you, apologetic, questioning, confused.

You caught him before he slumped sideways to the floor, struggling to heave his bulk into your lap, sobbing and crying out for him as his breaths grew wet. Sound closed in on you as you begged Kento, hearing Yuuji beg the medical staff in the room for help, corralling them, grabbing them.

As you stared around for help, wild-eyed and sobbing, you felt a large, warm hand come up to cup your cheek. Kento coughed, lips stained with blood, as he gazed up at you with such a tender smile that you wracked with tears, clutching him to you.

"...love you...always knew-- I always knew--" You shook your head as Kento nodded, smoothing his thumb down your nose, across your cheeks, committing you to memory.

"You owe me a date," you wept, pressing your lips to his forehead, "you can't-- you owe me a date--" Kento chuckled, wet and weak...and silenced. You shook him. His body was loose on your lap, a soft smile fixed on his lips, his eyes drifting closed, the run of his blood over your lap stopping.

"Kento-- no-- KENTO!"

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It was a crisp, bright day. Ijichi grieved its passing as he grieved the passing of friends, colleagues, strangers-- administrating, administrating, administrating.

Yaga Masamichi sat opposite Ijichi, a swirl of steam rising from the coffee pot between them. He flipped slowly through folders, an uninterpretable grunt voiced after each one.

"Too many dead," he stated, blunt and low. Ijichi hummed, solemn.

"Imbuing a fertility goddess with Cursed energy..." Ijichi sighed, "...and for what? A dead cult. Dead sorcerers. A dead goddess." Ijichi sighed again, deeper this time, "And so much paperwork."

"So much overtime," Yaga hummed. He stopped, reminded, "speaking of overtime, Ijichi...how is Nanami?"

Ijichi looked up, smiling.

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"...stab wound penetrating the left lung, one very broken leg, some cracked ribs from the CPR, abrasions...you're lucky the medical staff there helped you, Nanami."

Nanami grumbled, still aching and scarred, despite Shoko's efforts to heal him after Father Shinzu's doctors and nurses had intervened.

Shoko almost giggled, taking a long, slow draw on her cigarette, "I wouldn't have helped you if you'd just murdered my patient in front of me."

"The murder was all mine, actually," you piped up, batting away Kento's sore hands, buttoning up his shirt for him as he pressed his nose and lips to your hair, "but this guy, just can't stop himself from being a hero--"

"--darling, I was just doing my job--"

"-- swooping in at the last minute to save me--"

"--really now, you think I'd just let you--"

"--and he still owes me a date."

Kento laughed despite himself, fixing you with a stern look; "Darling...read the room."

You pursed your lips in mirth, cupping Kento's face in your hands, staring into each others' eyes, seeing only each other and the promise of a better life. Shoko smiled fondly at you both, tapping at her cigarette thoughtfully.

"I'd say you two deserve a holiday. A real one."

Kento leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours, basking in your warmth; "Where should we go, my love?"

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Infiltration is finiiiiiiiished! 🎇 ❤️ 🍾

Thank you so much to all my readers; those who have been, those who are, and those yet to come.

You've all made this so much fun.

Yours, faithfully,

Haitch xxx

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urdreamydoodles · 4 months ago

Note

Love your works!!!! And I love Mr. Pickles!!!

May I ask for headcanons if reader dies in their arms?

Asking for: Emma Frost, Charles Xavier, Jean Grey, Piotr Rasputin, Beast, and Illyana Rasputin

No pressure ofc!!! Thank you!!

And have I mentioned that I fucking love your works?!?!

X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

You die in their arms (Part.1)

In the heat of battle, you succumbs to fatal injuries in the arms of your partner. Each X-Men, torn apart by grief, reacts to the devastating loss, facing the crushing reality that their greatest power cannot bring back the person they love most.

Characters: Emma Frost, Charles Xavier, Jean Grey, Colossus, Hank McCoy & Magik

First of all, thank you for this message, you are my first request and you have no idea how much it touches me. And secondly, your compliments make me blush, I'm glad you like my work, because personally I've never had as much fun as writing about something as this. Get ready for a LOT of headcanons because I have a lot in store. Above all, don't hesitate to ask for other requests <3 And thanks to you, you inspired me to make your request for other X-Men and X-Women. PS: MR. PICKLES WILL RETURN

Emma Frost

The battlefield was littered with chaos—explosions, screams, and the metallic scent of blood filled the air. You and Emma had been fighting alongside the X-Men, as you had countless times before, but this time was different. This battle had been brutal, and even though you had faced danger before, nothing had ever felt this dire. You had always fought by her side, both of you in sync, but as the fight raged on, you felt your strength starting to wane.

Emma’s voice was sharp and commanding in your mind, as always. “Stay with me, darling. We’re almost through this,” she had said, her mental link giving you strength. But when the blast came—one you hadn’t seen coming—it sent you flying, the pain immediate and overwhelming. You crumpled to the ground, clutching your side, feeling the warmth of your own blood seeping through your fingers.

Emma’s scream tore through the battlefield, her telepathic wail so fierce it silenced everyone for a moment. In the next second, she was at your side, her diamond form shimmering as she knelt down, her hands trembling as they reached for you. The moment her fingers touched your skin, her diamond exterior shattered, leaving her vulnerable in a way she never was on the battlefield.

"Y/N," she whispered, her voice breaking. "No, no, no... this can’t be happening."

You struggled to stay conscious, your vision blurring as you looked up at her, the love of your life, her face twisted in anguish. "I’m sorry," you choked out, each word a struggle. "I tried... I really tried."

Tears fell from her eyes, something she rarely allowed herself to do. She pressed her forehead against yours, her voice shaking. "Don’t you dare say goodbye. Not yet. I won’t let you go."

But you could feel it. The life slipping away, your heartbeat growing fainter. You reached up weakly, your hand brushing against her cheek. "Emma... I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Emma’s breath hitched as she gripped your hand, holding onto you as if her sheer willpower could keep you alive. "I love you too," she whispered back, her lips brushing your forehead. "Please... please stay."

But you couldn’t. Your eyes fluttered shut, your body growing still in her arms.

For a moment, Emma just sat there, her mind refusing to accept what had just happened. Then, with a heart-wrenching scream, she unleashed a wave of telepathic energy so powerful that it swept across the battlefield, knocking down enemies, sending shockwaves through everyone’s minds. She cradled your body, her chest heaving with sobs, her mind desperate, reaching out to you, trying to find any trace of your consciousness.

But you were gone.

And for the first time in her life, Emma Frost felt utterly, completely broken.

Charles Xavier

The fight had been relentless, and despite the X-Men’s best efforts, the battle had taken a terrible toll. You had always been the calm in Charles’ storm, the grounding presence he could rely on when the weight of leading the X-Men grew too heavy. But today, everything had gone wrong. You had been separated from the team, cornered by enemies, and though you fought bravely, you had been wounded—badly.

By the time Charles found you, the world had already started fading around the edges. He wheeled towards you with a speed and desperation you had never seen in him before. His voice echoed in your mind, trembling with fear. *"Y/N, hold on. Please, just hold on."*

You could barely open your eyes, the pain in your body making it difficult to even breathe. But you heard him, and you smiled weakly, your heart aching as you felt his mind reaching for yours, trying to steady you, trying to keep you present. "I’m sorry, Charles," you rasped, your voice so faint it barely carried over the sounds of battle. "I wasn’t strong enough."

"No," Charles said, his voice firm, though you could hear the fear beneath it. "You are strong. You’ve always been strong. Don’t leave me, Y/N. I can’t lose you."

You felt his hand grasp yours, his grip trembling. You had always marveled at how Charles carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, always keeping his emotions tightly controlled. But now, there was no control. There was only fear, and love, and desperation in his eyes.

"You were always my strength, Charles," you whispered, your hand squeezing his as best as you could. "I love you. So much."

Tears filled his eyes, his voice breaking as he spoke. "And I love you. You are everything to me."

You could feel his mind wrapping around yours, trying to hold you there, trying to stop the inevitable. He was begging, pleading with you to stay, to fight, but your body was failing. You felt the warmth of his love in your mind, a comfort even as the world started slipping away.

"Please, Y/N," Charles whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Please, don’t leave me."

But you couldn’t hold on any longer. The pain faded, the world grew silent, and your grip on his hand loosened.

Charles sat there, his hand still holding yours, as the battlefield around him seemed to blur into nothing. His heart shattered, and in that moment, all the strength and control he had maintained for years crumbled. He lowered his head, his tears falling onto your lifeless body, and he sent out a silent scream, a wave of raw emotion so powerful that it resonated across the minds of every living person on the battlefield.

Charles had lost many people in his life. But losing you felt like the end of everything.

Jean Grey

The battle had taken its toll, not just on the X-Men but on the world itself. You and Jean had fought side by side, your powers complementing each other in ways that made you an unstoppable force. But this battle had pushed you both beyond your limits. You had been caught in an explosion, your body thrown against the rubble, the pain blinding and all-consuming.

Jean was at your side in an instant, her telekinetic powers lifting the debris off you, her hands trembling as she reached for you. "No... no, no, no," she whispered, her voice cracking as she cradled your head in her lap. "Y/N, stay with me."

You could barely keep your eyes open, the world spinning as you struggled to breathe. "Jean..." you whispered, your voice so weak, so broken. "I... I don’t think I can..."

"Don’t you dare say that," Jean said, her voice fierce but laced with panic. "You’re going to be okay. I won’t let you go."

You could feel her mind reaching out to yours, wrapping around your consciousness, trying to keep you there with her. Her love flooded your mind, a warmth that soothed the pain, but you could feel your body slipping away, your strength fading.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, your hand weakly reaching for hers. "I’m so sorry."

Jean’s tears fell onto your face as she held you closer. "Don’t apologize," she said, her voice breaking. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You’ve always been there for me. Please... just stay a little longer."

You could see the anguish in her eyes, feel the desperation in her mind as she tried to hold on to you. But the pain was too much, and your body was failing.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"I love you too," Jean said, her voice shaking as she pressed her forehead against yours, her tears falling freely now. "Please... don’t leave me."

But you were slipping away, the world growing darker, quieter, as you took your last breath. Jean’s sobs echoed in your fading consciousness, her mind screaming out for you, trying to pull you back. But it was too late.

Jean held your lifeless body in her arms, her chest heaving with sobs. She let out a scream, a psychic wave that shattered the air around her, sending shockwaves through the battlefield. Her grief, her agony, her love—they all collided in that moment, her powers surging uncontrollably as she held onto you, unable to let go.

In that moment, Jean Grey—one of the most powerful beings in the universe—felt utterly powerless.

Colossus

The battle was at its peak, and the sounds of war echoed around you. Explosions rocked the battlefield as Colossus, in his full metal form, fought valiantly beside you. His towering figure was always a source of comfort, an indestructible wall between you and the chaos. The ground shook beneath your feet as you moved to join him, your heart pounding with adrenaline.

But then, an enemy blast caught you off guard, the impact throwing you off your feet. You hit the ground hard, the pain immediate and overwhelming. Blood seeped from your wounds as you struggled to breathe, your vision blurring. You tried to push yourself up, but your body refused to respond. The sound of heavy metal footsteps reached your ears, and you knew Piotr had seen you fall.

His metallic form glimmered in the firelight as he ran toward you, his eyes wide with terror. You had never seen him like this, even in the most dangerous situations. He dropped to his knees beside you, the cold steel of his hands cradling you gently despite their immense strength.

"Y/N!" His voice was thick with fear, a sound you'd never thought you'd hear from someone as powerful as him. "Please, no. Not you. Not like this."

You tried to smile, but the pain was too much. "Piotr..." you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I... I can't..."

He shook his head, his metal features twisting in agony. "Don’t speak. I’ll protect you," he promised, though the pain in his voice told you he knew there was nothing he could do. He tried to stem the flow of blood from your wound, his massive hands shaking.

His metal body was usually unyielding, but now he seemed so vulnerable, so afraid. He held you close, his cold arms pulling you against his chest. "Stay with me, please," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. His entire body trembled as he struggled to maintain control.

Your hand reached up weakly to touch his face, the cool metal of his cheek sending a shiver through your fingers. "I love you," you whispered, the words catching in your throat as darkness closed in around you.

He let out a sob, his steel form shuddering with grief. "I love you more than anything, Y/N. You’re everything to me."

But it was too late. Your breath faded, and your hand slipped from his cheek, falling limply to the ground. Piotr let out a roar of anguish, his voice reverberating across the battlefield. He held your lifeless body close, his tears mingling with the blood and dirt that stained your skin. Even in his indestructible form, he felt more broken than ever before.

Magik

The battle had spiraled out of control, and you found yourself separated from the rest of the X-Men, the air thick with smoke and the sound of clashing metal. You had always admired Illyana’s ability to remain calm in the face of chaos, but this time, the situation was different. The enemies were relentless, and no matter how hard you fought, it wasn’t enough. Then, out of nowhere, a blade struck you, piercing through your side, and you collapsed to the ground.

Before you could even cry out, the world around you warped, and you found yourself in Limbo. Illyana stood before you, her eyes wide with horror as she took in the sight of your bloodied body. “No...” she whispered, her sword clattering to the ground as she rushed to your side.

You tried to speak, but the pain was overwhelming, your vision flickering in and out of focus. Illyana’s hands shook as she pressed them against your wound, trying to stop the blood that poured out of you. “I’ll fix this,” she said, her voice trembling. “I can fix this.”

You had always known that Illyana was powerful beyond measure, but in this moment, she looked small, fragile, as though she was trying to hold onto something that was slipping away. She stared down at you, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she knelt beside you, her hands glowing with the dark magic of Limbo.

“I can’t lose you,” she whispered, her voice breaking as tears filled her eyes. “Not like this.”

You reached up with what little strength you had left, your hand brushing against her cheek. “Illyana,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I love you.”

Her breath hitched as she leaned down, pressing her forehead against yours. “I love you too, more than anything,” she said, her voice shaking. “You can’t leave me. I won’t let you.”

But you could feel your life slipping away, the pain becoming numb as the darkness closed in. You wanted to stay, to hold on, but it was too late. Your hand fell limp in hers, your chest rising for the last time as your heart stopped.

Illyana let out a scream that echoed through the very fabric of Limbo, a sound so filled with grief and fury that it sent shockwaves through the demonic realm. Her magic surged uncontrollably, her power crackling through the air as she cradled your lifeless body in her arms. In her rage, the demons of Limbo cowered, the sky itself trembling in fear.

But no amount of power could bring you back, and that realization shattered her. She held onto you, her tears falling onto your skin, whispering your name over and over again as the world around her grew dark, consumed by her grief.

Hank McCoy

The battlefield had turned into a warzone of destruction, and even though you and Hank had fought together many times before, this battle was unlike any you had experienced. You had always admired how composed and intellectual Hank was, even in the most dire of situations. But this time, the enemy had been too quick, too brutal, and before you could react, you had been struck by a powerful blast.

Your body hit the ground hard, pain shooting through you as you struggled to breathe. Blood spilled from the wound in your chest, and every breath felt like a mountain weighing down on you. Through the haze of pain, you heard Hank’s voice, panicked and desperate, something you had never heard from him before.

“Y/N!” He shouted, rushing toward you, his blue fur standing on end as he dropped to his knees beside you. His large hands were gentle as he cradled your head in his lap, his eyes wide with terror as he took in the sight of your injuries. “No, no, this can’t be happening.”

You tried to smile up at him, but the pain was too much. “I’m sorry, Hank,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t... I couldn’t...”

“Shh,” he said, his voice shaking. He pressed his hand to your wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but it was no use. His eyes were filled with panic, his normally calm and collected demeanor completely gone. “You’ll be alright. Just stay with me.”

You could feel the life draining from you, the world growing darker around the edges. You reached up weakly, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.

Hank’s eyes filled with tears, something you had never seen from him before. “I love you too, more than you’ll ever know,” he said, his voice breaking. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, his tears falling onto your face. “Please don’t leave me. I can’t... I can’t do this without you.”

You wanted to stay, to hold on, but your body was failing, your heart slowing with every passing second. You looked up at him one last time, your vision blurring as you whispered, “I’m sorry.”

And then, everything went dark.

Hank let out a strangled sob, his entire body trembling as he held you close. His mind raced, trying to think of a solution, something that could bring you back, but he knew it was too late. You were gone, and nothing could change that.

He sat there for what felt like an eternity, holding your lifeless body in his arms, his tears falling freely as he whispered your name. The battlefield raged on around him, but for Hank, the world had stopped. You were gone, and with you, a part of him had died too.

#emma frost x reader #charles xavier x reader #jean grey x reader #colossus x reader #hank mccoy x reader #magik x reader #marvel imagines #marvel headcanons #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel #x men imagines #x men headcanons #x men #x men x reader #imagines #imagine #headcanons #x reader

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zvezda-writer · 2 months ago

Text

Ex-boyfriend!Simon x Sex Worker!Reader

How big was your surprise when the door of your client's apartment opened and there was Simon, your ex.

Well, yes, it has been around ten years since you saw each other and he definitely had a glow up from the gaunt, funny boy you met back in the shitty neighborhood you two lived in Manchester. Same neighborhood, same type of family, same struggles growing up. You two had everything in common and could've ended up getting married and living in a one bedroom apartment in the same old neighborhood.

But he left.

Without goodbye, without explaining, he just left. You found out by his brother that he had joined the military. You were devastated, to say the least.

You stayed behind, having to take care of your ill mother since your father was a drunk bastard. Until he died when you were nineteen, killed during a bar fight. With the employment rate near to zero in the area you lived in, your solutions were either prostitution or drug dealing, and you refused to be involved with drugs.

That's how you ended up in the sex business. The money was good and you and your mother moved to London, and you started getting richer clients. That's how you ended up there, face to face with the man who broke your heart when you were only sixteen.

You two stared at each other in dead silence for a couple of seconds until you decided that he probably didn't even remember you, so you just acted normal, like you didn't remember him too. The money was too good to reject it.

–You're the one who called me, handsome?

You asked, your voice sickly sweet. He didn't answer, of course. At least not with words.

Without saying anything, he cupped your face with his big, callused hands, attacking your lips with his with deep, burning passion, the taste of his lips heavy with a mix of whiskey and tobacco. The taste had changed, but the way he kissed you, like a starved man, was the very same since you were both teenagers.

But, oh, he remembered you. More than you could've expected. And the moment he saw you standing right in front of the door, the feelings he had butried so deep came back to life in a explosion, leaving him blind with passion and longing.

After a moment he finally let go of your lips, pulling away just enough to get some air, his hands never leaving your face as he whispered in a raspy, rough voice who almost made you moan.

–Can't belive you're bloody real... Ten years, bunny. It's been fucking ten years.

And your heart stopped. He remembered. And hearing him call you the petname he had used with you so many times in the past made your heart twist in knots, eyes burning with tears that you refused to let fall. Your makeup was too expensive for it.

–I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry for not saying goodbye.

He murmured, kissing you again and again as he pulled you inside, shutting the door close without letting go of you.

Each kiss, each touch, everything about him and his presence was an explosion of feelings and sensations you couldn't describe, ecstasy cursing through your veins at each pump of your heart, lungs suffocating with the smell of his cologne at each uneven breathing, brain melting with every sweet word that left his mouth, body shuddering with every thrust of his divine sculpted dick.

–I'm never letting you go again, bunny...–another thrust –Gonna marry you...–another thrust –Gonna fill you up and make you a mommy, yeah?

All you could do was nod, your brain barely registering his words as he overwhelmed you with pleasure and love, and even if what he said wasn't true, it didn't matter at the moment. At that moment, you were both the old Y/N and Simon again, hiding inside his father's old truck at night to have a moment alone.

Your mind turned into a puddle as an overwhelming, destructive orgasm hit her, your warm and soaked cunt clenching and throbbing around his cock, and after a few more thrusts he made his words come true, filling you up to the brim.

Sure, at the moment you didn't actually believe he would marry you and take care of you, but then six months later you found yourself sitting on a comfortable armchair, hand resting on top of your round belly as you watched the most handsome man in the world build your daughter's crib in her pink room, under your inspection of course. Guess he took his promises way too seriously because after the first encounter in two months you were married and moving to a beautiful house in a nice, calm neighborhood, and everyday he made sure to remind you that you didn't have to lift a finger, he was your man, he's supposed to take care of you, right?

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost #simon ghost x reader #call of duty

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mylovelies-docx · 1 year ago

Text

Love Bites (But So Do I)

🎃 HAPPY HALLOWEEN TO ALL MY SPOOKY, HORNY BITCHES 🎃

I'm finally participating in Kinktober, but it's literally the last day and it's whatever the fuck I wanted to write.

Pairing: Innocent!Vampire!Reader x Werewolf!Bucky

Plot: Reader is suffering from hunger pangs due to national blood shortage. Bucky offers a solution.

C/W: 18+ MDNI!!! (I am so for serious). Loss of virginity, age gap (Reader is late 20's), what’s the name for blood drinking?, fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex, slight dom/sub, knotting, cock-warming, fluff, resolution of mutual pining.

Vampirism is cool and all, but it also fucking sucks sometimes.

Like during a national blood shortage.

You’d been turned only a couple of years ago around the time of your 25th birthday. You can’t quite recall what happened, as everything around the event is distorted in your memories. All you know is that you were on a mission with some of the other Avengers one second, and then the next you were lying in the med bay with an intense craving for blood.

Everyone was surprisingly accepting of your new ‘condition’, with the exception of one person.

Bucky.

Bucky wasn’t on the mission where you were turned into a vampire, so he had no idea what he was walking in on when he stopped by to visit you in the med bay. You distinctly remember the look of worry and confusion on his face when he peered through the window and saw you strapped down onto the bed. You’d given him a forced, awkward smile and turned your head away, not able to look him in the eye.

You heard the door to your room click open and Bucky began to call your name, but then he inhaled sharply, unable to finish his question. You turned your head slightly and peeked back at him. You could tell immediately that Bucky’s werewolf senses had picked up on the change in your DNA, his instincts telling him that you were now his enemy.

You leaned your head back against the bed and closed your eyes, devastated that Bucky hated you before you could even have a proper conversation with him. You’d been on the team for a few months at that point, only really developing surface level friendships with everyone. They were all welcoming enough, but your anxieties prevented you from letting anyone in.

With your eyes closed, your other senses were able to accommodate for the loss of sight. The gust of wind from Bucky opening the door rushed up your nose, and a heady, intoxicating scent lit up your brain. Your eyes popped open and you stared at Bucky, noticing his heavy breathing and his pulse pounding against the arteries in his neck. Your mouth watered at the smell of him, divine and irresistible in a way that no one else had been up to that point.

A choked keening had erupted from your throat, your wrists and ankles straining against the bonds holding you down. You twisted and pulled, trying to break free and make a run for Bucky, but he’d immediately sensed your desire to drink his blood. A shutter fell into place over Bucky’s face, masking any expression that might have been there. He sucked in one final deep breath and slammed the door to your room, storming down the hallway and away from you.

As soon as you could no longer detect Bucky’s scent in the air, your mind cleared somewhat and you were able to realize just how out of control you had acted and how embarrassed you were at your actions. But you were also unable to stop imagining running after him and sinking your teeth deep into the flesh of his throat.

Slamming your head a few times onto the bed underneath you, you cursed yourself. Bucky barely even liked you before, but now he probably despised you – not just for what you were, but for how you acted, as well. You’d gotten off on the wrong foot with him to start, but then you’d stumbled hard and crossed a line by almost ripping your arms to pieces in order to get to him.

You’d never been able to look people in the face or hold eye contact for very long, but it’s especially true when it comes to Bucky. You’re not exactly sure why it is that your heart races and butterflies fill your stomach, but the feelings bubble up and prevent you from speaking and make you uncomfortable in your own skin. This happens every time you meet someone new or are with people you don’t really know, but the sensations that flood your body when Bucky is around are 100x worse than anything you’d felt for anyone before.

You’d realized in that hospital bed that whatever you’d felt for Bucky prior to becoming a vampire had changed, had become almost unbearable. His scent never left your thoughts and your mind always drifted off to think about Bucky: what he was doing, where he was, who he was with. Your eyes would darken and turn red, fangs lengthening when you imagined him with anyone other than you.

It’d taken you weeks to recover your sanity completely. You’d drained bag after bag after bag of blood, never feeling completely satiated, but unable to find out why. Some members of the team visited in those weeks to determine if you were safe to be around, and although the aroma of their blood wafted through the air and surrounded you, you never reacted to any of them the way you had to Bucky that first day. Dr. Cho had decided that you were no longer a threat after your successes, so she’d allowed you out of your restraints. You were finally able to walk the halls again and explore the compound.

Though the sunlight wouldn’t kill you (discovered during Dr. Cho’s studies), your skin would prickle and start to burn after prolonged exposure, so you tended to avoid the daylight. You’d wander the halls after everyone had turned in for the night, lamenting the fact that you could really only spend the evenings with them all before they needed to sleep.

You’d catch whiffs of Bucky as you stalked the night, your pulse racing and endorphins fizzing through your veins, but he never appeared. Bucky kept his distance from you for nearly a full year after you’d nearly attacked him. You couldn’t blame him. He’d been tortured enough in his life, he didn’t need the added stress of you trying to suck him dry every time he entered the same room as you.

It took some time, but you were finally able to cohabitate the same spaces with him again. Even though your mouth watered and your hands longed to reach out and grab him, you refrained. You kept yourself distant in order to make him more comfortable with your presence even though nature meant for your two species to hate each other.

You understood why Bucky had such a vehement reaction when he smelled you for the first time after your transition; walking the streets of New York, you’d catch of whiff of wet dog and dirty sock, immediately identifying werewolves as they prowled the streets, their stench clinging to your nostrils and turning your stomach. You’d grimace and walk away as fast as you could in search of clean air not polluted with the presence of werewolves. If grody socks and dirty mongrel was what you perceived werewolves to smell like, you can’t imagine what Bucky must smell emanating from you.

The only thing that doesn’t make sense is that you’d never found Bucky’s scent displeasing: in fact, the fresh, pine scent drove you crazy and had your body begging to be near him despite knowing that he’s a werewolf. You feel insatiable whenever he’s around, needing to consume blood soon after in order to calm the raging hunger within you.

Your mouth waters at the thought of the hot liquid filling your mouth and sliding down your throat, warming your insides and sending shivers all the way down to your toes. It’d been nearly a full day since you’d last tasted the savory red substance.

A nation-wide disaster the Avengers had handled yesterday required the hospitals to use up most of their stores of blood, leaving you feeling guilty for even thinking about taking the life-saving liquid for your own benefit. All the Avengers were out celebrating a job well-done and the prevention of more death and destruction that would have occurred had you all not been there to help.

The fight yesterday had taken everything out of you, and you were unable to drag yourself from the couch where you had collapsed earlier in the day. Your head is spinning and your muscles are weak from the lack of blood in your system. Some of the others had offered you their blood to help you feel better, but you’d declined and told them to go out and donate it to one of the blood banks that were in desperate need.

You’d never drank directly from a person in the years since you’d become a vampire, choosing instead to avoid the intimacy that must come along with the action. Holding someone’s wrist in your hands as you clamp down on their radial artery, nuzzling your face into the crook of their neck and sucking a mark around the two perfect puncture holes from your fangs – it just felt overwhelming.

And besides, the only person you could even imagine suckling from was Bucky and he’d never offer you his blood, regardless of whether it was in a bag or straight from the source.

You groan as your stomach contracts in on itself, the emptiness feeling as if there’s a black hole inside of you and you’re going to be consumed from the inside out. You feel foolish for turning your friends’ offers away, but there’s no way you’d have kept them from enjoying themselves after everything they went through yesterday. You can only hope that Dr. Cho is able to procure something for you in the morning or else create some alternative to the human blood that sustains your life force.

You’re curled in the fetal position on the couch, clutching your stomach and trying to think of anything else besides this nauseating hunger you feel. Your eyes squeeze tightly shut and your face scrunches in agony. You moan once more, unable to hold it in.

All of a sudden, your senses detect the presence of another person in the compound – a door in the residential wing swishing open and the pad, pad, pad of socked feet walking towards you. The sweet, fresh smell of a pine forest after a spring shower wraps around you, easing the pain enough for you to open your eyes and witness Bucky walk into the living room and find you lying there. His face contorts momentarily, but then smooths back out.

“Y/N?” he questions. You whine at the timbre of his voice, the rich sound penetrating your eardrums and burrowing into your veins. “What’s wrong?”

You wince as another hunger pang claws through your gut. “I’m –” you whisper hoarsely. “I’m hungry. So hungry.”

“Hungry?” he asks. “What about the blood you keep in stock?” Bucky walks over to the hospital-grade equipment in the kitchen behind you, looking for a blood bag you know isn’t there. You hear him open and close the door, quickly ascertaining that there is nothing to be found within. Bucky quickly walks back over to you and crouches a few feet from the couch. “Where did it all go?”

A red-tinted tear falls from your lower lashes, leaving a pink streak along your cheek. “The… the civilians,” you murmur quietly. Even with Bucky’s enhanced hearing, he has to lean closer to hear what you say. “They n-needed it more th-than me.”

“Shit,” Bucky mutters under his breath. A determined look comes over his face as he rolls up his sleeve. He holds his wrist in front of your mouth and barks out a command. “Drink.”

You barely find the strength to shake your head at him in refusal. “No,” you whine. “I’ve never… I can’t…”

“Yes,” he growls, “you can. And you will.” Bucky stretches his mouth wide and rolls his head on his neck, transforming his normal human teeth into the incisors of a wolf. He bites down onto the center of his wrist, tearing open his vein and shoving it back in your face. “Drink.”

Your bloodlust overtakes you at that moment. The warm, coppery blood seeps down his wrist and beads onto the sofa beside your head. Your hands move of their own accord, your mind fighting a losing battle with your instincts. You grasp Bucky’s wrist and wrap your parched lips around the gaping wound. You lick and suck where Bucky’s teeth had torn apart his own flesh. At the taste of Bucky’s blood hitting your tongue after years of craving it, a pleasured whimper crawls up your throat and forces its way between your parted lips against his flesh.

Buck’s metal arm reaches around and cups the back of your head, holding you in place as you continue to feed from him. “That’s right, doll,” he says. “Take as much as you need.” You feel the cold pressure of his hand as he strokes your hair away from your face. “Fuck. Been waiting for this. For you.”

The words send a shiver through you and you would have happily stayed right where you were for the rest of eternity, but the mouthfuls of blood have quickly turned into a trickle. You whine at the realization, running your tongue over Bucky’s wrist to confirm that his wound is healing too rapidly for you to continue drinking. You cry and raise your eyes up to Bucky’s, tasting his blood that had dribbled down your chin as you lick your lips.

“It’s –” you try. “You’re not…”

Bucky curses once again. “I heal too fast and the vein is too small for the amount of blood you need.”

He takes a hair tie from his pocket and quickly runs his fingers through his hair, gathering it all into a bun at the back of his head. Bucky rises swiftly and picks your body up into his arms. He cradles you against his chest as he settles quickly on the couch and places you in his lap. He circles one arm around your back to hold you upright and uses his other to guide your mouth to his throat.

“Bite,” he commands.

You whimper at the authority in his voice, but shake your head. “I’m okay,” you plead. “I – I don’t know how –”

“It’s instinct,” he replies harshly. “You do know how.” He takes your head and pushes your face further into his neck. “Bite me. Now, Y/N!”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you cry, resting your forehead against his skin and struggling to maintain the hold you have on your sanity when Bucky’s pulse is thrumming just under his skin. It’s right there. So close you can hear the blood as it rushes through his veins. This is the closest you’ve ever been to Bucky and his scent is beginning to drive you insane. You pant heavily against his throat, exhausting yourself from the effort of holding back.

Bucky releases a sigh and a sliver of tension leaves his muscles. The hand against your back strokes up and down, settling your body as it shivers against his.

“You won’t hurt me,” he says. “If I use my claws, the cut will be too big and I'll bleed too fast. Your teeth are so small, I won’t even feel them,” he soothes.

You hesitate for a moment before saying, “... you promise?”

“I promise, baby,” he hums.

The softness of his words is all it takes to tear down your defenses. You suck in a breath and bare your fangs. They sink into the skin right above his jugular and you feel the slight pop as you pierce its wall. Blood gushes into your mouth and you feel something inside you pop open just like Bucky’s vein.

All of the sudden, you become acutely aware of everything Bucky.

The rhythm of his heart as it pumps blood through his body and into yours, his breaths as they leave his mouth, the sounds he makes as you suckle at his neck – as if he’s enjoying every second of having your lips at his throat and sucking the blood as it floods into your mouth in time to the pulse of his heart. You can feel your own heart race to match his, beat for beat.

You moan at the sensation and pull harder against Bucky’s neck. Needing to be closer, you swing a leg over his lap to straddle him, hooking one arm around his shoulder and the other around the back of his head. You feel Bucky’s hands grasp your hips as he holds you tight to his body.

Involuntarily you roll your hips against him, rubbing your covered core over the bulge in his jeans. The action elicits a groan from Bucky and the contact sends an electric current through your body, forcing your hips to seek more friction. You continue to grind against Bucky’s crotch, your panties becoming soaked and leaking through your shorts and onto his jeans.

You continue to draw from Bucky’s neck as he begins to thrust against you in response to your motions. You moan at the extra pressure against your mound and work harder to match his rhythm.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” Bucky groans. “Using me so well to work that sweet little clit.” You whimper against his neck and brace one arm on the back of the couch, gaining leverage and moving your hips faster against him. “You gonna cum like this, darlin’?” He pants into your ear. “Gonna cum when I haven’t even touched you yet?”

At his words, you release your fangs from his throat and take big, heaving breaths. You pull away and stare down into Bucky’s eyes, his pupils dilated and staring deep into your own. You lean down quickly, capturing his lips with your own like you’ve dreamed of doing for so long. Bucky returns the kiss feverishly, working his tongue between your lips and delving into your mouth. You continue to grind yourself against Bucky until you’re nearly delirious with lust and feel a tight knot forming between your legs.

Bucky’s fingers snake between your bodies and pull the fabric of your shorts and panties aside so that he can run his fingers along your soaking slit.

“What a good girl,” he growls. “Already so wet for me.”

He nudges one finger at your entrance and you keen at the pressure of his thick finger trying to enter you. You huff against his mouth, trying to relax and allow his finger entry.

“’s okay, sweetheart,” he breathes against your throat as he trails wet kisses from your lips down to your shoulders. “’m not gonna hurt ya.”

You nod your head feverishly and lean backwards, changing the angle of your hips so that his finger has more access. It slips inside and your pussy clenches hard around it, not used to anything filling you so full. You cry out in pleasure as he crooks his finger against your walls with what little room he has.

“Goddamn, you’re so tight,” he huffs. “Have you not done this before?” Bucky questions you, using his free hand to pull your face back towards his so that he can kiss you once before letting you respond.

You shake your head no and cry out again as he withdraws his finger and plunges it back into you. He continues to massage your walls while he pulls his finger in and out, in and out.

“Then is this okay, baby? Do you like this?”

“Yes! Yes, Bucky! I – I love this.”

He sucks your bottom lips between his teeth and holds it there for a second before letting go. “Let me see how much you love it, Y/N. Come on, cum for me.”

“Uh, ah, I’ve never –” you half confess before stopping yourself by biting your lip and throwing your head backwards.

“You tellin’ me you’ve never let yourself orgasm, pretty girl?” he asks you. “What a tragedy,” he growls against your neck, finger still working between your legs as he slowly tries to fit another one inside you.

“Unh,” you whine in time with his finger thrusts, feeling the stretch of your hole as the slick from your core coats his hand and allows his second finger entry. You gasp at the sensation of his two thick fingers inside of you and the heel of his hand against your clit. The knot in your stomach feels as if it’s stretching as tight as it can go, pulling and straining to be undone. You work your hips in time with Bucky’s hand, trying to get him deeper inside you where your body screams for more.

“But don’t worry,” he whispers against your ear. “I’ll take care of that right now.”

Bucky’s other hand comes up and pinches your erect nippled through your shirt. The sharp sizzle of pain morphs into pleasure as he surges through your nerves and rips the knot in your core apart. Your hips freeze and your knees lock tight against Bucky’s hips, every muscle in your abdomen clenching and your walls bearing down on Bucky’s fingers.

“That’s a good girl,” he breathes. “Look at you cumming all over my hand.” His words send another blade of pleasure to your core and you squeeze his fingers tighter. “You like when I talk to you, baby?” Bucky asks. “You like when I tell you you’re a good girl?” Bucky chuckles at the realization that his words cause your pussy to work his fingers harder.

“Does my sweet, pretty girl want to cum on my cock?” He wonders, tracing a finger down the side of your face and then slipping it into your mouth. You instinctively suck on his digit, lathing your tongue around the tip. Bucky sucks in a sharp breath when you nip at his finger with one of your fangs.

“Dirty girl,” he teases as he takes his finger from your mouth. He grabs your chin and looks into your eyes again. “Will you let me fuck that tight little pussy of yours?”

You moan and nod your head. “Yes! Yes, Bucky – please!” you cry out.

With a wolfish grin, Bucky grabs the back of your thighs and holds you up as he carries you out of the living room and towards his bedroom. You notice two little pinpricks of blood where your fangs had been earlier, the skin already healing over. You lower your mouth back to Bucky’s throat and lick his skin clean. Bucky bounces you in his arms and kisses your lips forcefully as he finally arrives at his room.

He crawls with you up the bed until your head is nestled on his pillows and his body covers yours completely. The warmth of him encompasses you and his scent surrounds you where it pours from his sheets and clothing scattered around the room. Bucky’s bedroom smells just like him, like being sheltered by a grove of pine trees as the sun rises in the sky after a long, dark night.

Bucky slides his hands under your shirt and pushes it up your chest, kissing your breasts as they’re exposed. You hum at the warm, wet kisses he places on your nipples before he pulls the shirt over your head and up your arms. Next, he kisses your lips and slowly makes his way down your body, leaving a trail of warmth in the wake of his lips as he reaches the waistband of your shorts.

His fingers curl around the elastic and tug them down, down, down, your legs. Bucky sits back on his haunches, your shorts and panties dangling from the end of his fingers. You reach to cover yourself with your hands, never having had anyone look at your naked body before.

His glacier blue eyes lock onto yours and freeze you in place. Bucky shakes his head once, telling you to stop hiding yourself from him. You slowly pull your hands away, not exactly sure what to do with them now that they don’t have a purpose.

Bucky hums in content at seeing your naked body lying on his bed, wet and ready for him. He slides backwards off the bed, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. Your face heats as he whips his shirt over his head, exposing his solid chest and torso. He reaches for the button of his jeans and slowly undoes the fastenings. He watches your eyes widen when his cock springs free, finally relieved of its confinement.

You can’t take your eyes away from Bucky’s dick as it stands at attention, the pink tip weeping liquid. You quickly glance up at Bucky’s face, and see amusement flicker in his eyes.

“I don’t th-think…” you stammer.

“Oh,” Bucky rumbles. “It’ll fit.”

Bucky positions himself on top of your body again, pulling your legs apart so that he can nestle his hips between yours. You feel as his warm, hard length rests between your lower lips and up onto your mound. He’s so big that you could wrap both hands around him and there would still be leftovers. You swallow hard and look up into Bucky’s eyes as he hovers over you.

“Are you sure?”

He leans down and presses a hard kiss to your lips. “I’m sure.”

Bucky guides his tip to your entrance, coating the head with your juices. He slides it up and down your slit, notching it against your clit and sending shocks to your core. You slowly bring your knees up and wrap your feet around the small of Bucky’s back, reaching your hands to grab onto Bucky’s metal wrist where he has it placed above your head. You look into his eyes as a smile graces his lips.

“Good girl,” he praises. Your body shivers at the compliment and you smile shyly back at him. Bucky takes the head of his cock and slowly notches it into you, pausing at your gasp of air. “Relax, doll,” he says as he leans down to kiss you. You melt into the kiss, allowing your legs to relax slightly and your walls to open enough for Bucky to slide in a couple of inches.

His cock is thicker and longer than his fingers and your body is unsure what to do with so much of it inside you. You whine against Bucky’s lips, the stretch and pressure unfamiliar.

“It’s okay, baby; you can take me.”

You nod and consciously relax your pelvic floor, imaging the muscles loosening up and allowing Bucky inside. You can feel the effects immediately, Bucky’s hips closing the gap and the tip of his cock lodging deep inside you, the notched head putting pressure against a point inside you that forces all the air to leave your lungs. You suck in a sharp breath as Bucky fully sheaths himself inside you, barely believing that his entire length rests within your walls.

“That’s it, doll,” Bucky commends your efforts. “Told you you could do it.”

You smile at him earnestly, proud of yourself for taking all of him inside of you at once. He brings his flesh hand up to your face and pulls your bottom lip down with his thumb. “I’m gonna move now, okay? You ready?”

“Yes,” you breathe. Your heart pounds in your chest as Bucky slowly slides from you until he’s almost completely out. Then, in one smooth motion, he presses back inside, the head rubbing against the spot that made you lose your breath when he entered the first time. You stare into each other’s eyes as Bucky continues to rock into you, his hips meeting yours with every press forward.

You can’t help but sigh at the sweet pleasure that builds from Bucky’s measured pace. You unwind one hand from Bucky’s metal wrist and reach for his face, closing your eyes and capturing his lips in an ardent kiss. The feeling of him moving inside you is nice, the coil from earlier returning to its place inside your core.

You cry out suddenly when Bucky’s next thrust enters you with more force than his previous ones. He opens his eyes and looks down at you, seeing the heat of your cheeks spread down your neck. He smirks and slams into you again, harder. Your eyes widen and your breath rushes out with the thrusts, your walls constricting around him with the repeated motion.

“You like that?” he questions, thrusting hard into you again. You gasp when he picks up speed and force, slamming into you over and over again. “I said: do you like that? Answer me.”

“Uh”-thrust-“huh”-thrust- you answer, your affirmation being knocked out of you as Bucky slams into your core. The rapid, harsh thrusts have the ridges and veins of Bucky’s cock sliding against your walls, and you can feel every single one of them tightening the coil inside of you until it is stretched tight once again. Bucky continues to thrust, taking you higher and higher and higher until there’s no room left inside of you that your emotions seep from your eyes, your pink-tinged tears from pleasure rather than pain this time.

You gasp for breath repeatedly, listening to the wet sounds of Bucky thrusting in and out of you, the moans and muttered praises falling from his lips.

“So good for me.”

“You take me so well.”

“Look at you, crying over my cock because it’s making a mess of your sweet little cunt.”

The praise sends you soaring, you can’t help but whimper and sob into Bucky’s mouth as he keeps his face close to yours, making sure that you like everything he does to your body, monitoring your cries of pleasure to make sure he’s doing the best he can.

The coil begins to fray and snap. You begin to tense up, the sensations becoming too much.

“I think,” you moan, “I’m gonna…!”

Before your body completely lets go, you feel Bucky snarl into your neck and bite down hard with his incisors. You feel a flood of endorphins rush from Bucky’s mouth and travel through your body, pooling in your core and lighting the coil on fire. You cum hard on Bucky’s cock, liquid gushing from you. Your mind goes completely blank as your body shudders and shakes against Bucky’s, your pussy sucking him in as if it will never let him go. Buck retracts his teeth from the mark on your neck, licking his tongue over the puncture wounds.

“Oh, fuck yes, baby girl. Look what I did to you – no one else will ever make you squirt like I do. No one will ever touch you. You’re mine, baby. No one else’s. I’m never letting you go.”

You stare down in enraptured surprise as you feel Bucky’s cock suddenly swelling inside you, locking him in place. He’s buried to the hilt and you feel a bulging just inside your entrance, preventing him from thrusting any more. Bucky groans loudly in your ear and you feel warmth and extra pressure against your walls, filling you to the brim with Bucky’s cum.

Bucky leans down and nuzzles into your neck, placing tired kisses against where he’d bitten you. “Mine,” he growls. “Say it. Tell me you’re mine,” he commands.

Your eyes drift closed as the after effects of your orgasms and Bucky’s mark leave you breathless and blissed out. “Yours,” you murmur. “Always.”

Bucky flips you both over, his knot keeping you firmly locked together, unable to separate even if you wanted to (which you don’t). He lays you gently on his chest and holds your face in both of his hands. He wants you to look at him, but your eyes are so heavy that you can barely lift them.

You hear Bucky’s low voice as you drift off to sleep, but the words don’t make any sense.

“My mate.”

***

Your eyes snap open at the feel of soft lips against your forehead, then your nose, then eyelids and cheeks, and finally against your own lips.

You pull away immediately, hands covering your mouth in absolute horror. The previous night comes rushing back to you when you sense the heaviness of a mark on your neck and the aching pulse between your legs. Bucky looks up from where he lays beneath you, his expression turning puzzled and then quickly alarmed at your words.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m sorry, Bucky. I didn’t mean to. I can’t believe –” you gasp out, placing your hands over your entire face and scrambling away in embarrassment. “I don’t know what came over me. I told you. I’ve never done that before, I didn’t know that would happen. I – I must have hypnotized you or something!” you cry out. “I didn’t know that was something I could do! I'm so sorry. I never should have –”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he calls, rushing to sit up and pull your hands away from your face, tilting your chin up until you’re looking at him. There’s a tender look on his face that you’ve never seen before, as if he’s dropped all of his walls with you. Your heart shatters at the realization that you’ve made him do things he never wanted to.

His eyes soften, almost as if he could understand your thoughts just by looking into your eyes. He tries to get you to calm down, to regulate your breathing by taking in deep breaths of his own, but you’re too full of anxiety and self-loathing for it to work.

“It’s okay,” he consoles you. “We didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do.”

“How is that possible?” you sob helplessly, trying your best to divert your gaze from his. “You don’t even like me. You’ve never liked me and especially not after I became a vampire. I mean, you’re a werewolf! You hate me. You couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as me for a year.”

“Shhh,” Bucky soothes. “When did I ever say I hated you?”

Your brows furrow in confusion, your breaths continuing to heave in and out of your chest, but your heart somehow calms of its own accord. You feel its beat echoing around you and you realize that Bucky’s heartbeat is working to calm yours, his eyes peering into your own while his hands rub up and down your arms in a soothing motion. “I – we’re enemies,” you say quietly. “Vampires and werewolves have always hated each other.”

“Do you hate me?” he questions, turning your face so that you’re looking at him once again.

You hesitate for a moment before shaking your head softly. “No.”

“And I don’t hate you,” he states, raising a hand and softly stroking your hair.

“But you…?” You try to make sense of what Bucky’s saying. “You can’t stand me. You avoided me after – after I…”

“Because I didn’t want to scare you,” Bucky murmurs. “I knew that if I was around you, I would do something I would regret.”

“...like kill me?” you wonder.

Bucky’s lip quirk into a small smile and he chuckles at your question. “No, Y/N. Not kill you.”

“Then what…?”

“After you were turned,” Bucky begins. He pulls his hand from you and clasps your hands within his, gently stroking your skin with his thumbs. You watch, entranced, as his fingers move over your skin. “I realized something as soon as I walked into your room in the med bay and scented you for the first time.” He tugs on your hands until you look up into his face. He smiles softly down at you with a look of pure adoration and love. “You’re my mate, Y/N.”

You stare at him in confusion. There’s no way – that’s not possible. “How… How is that possible? Are you sure I didn’t hypnotize you into thinking that?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and laughs. “You didn’t hypnotize me – that’s not real, and you know it.” He moves one hand to your throat, where he caresses his bite mark on your skin with his thumb. “I don’t know how it happened or why the universe saw fit to bind us together, but it did.” Bucky bends his head and smiles ruefully at you as he continues. “I knew you were going to be special to me the first time we ever met, but you were so quiet and you avoided me like the plague, so I thought you were afraid of me.”

You feel the anguish coming from Bucky as he thinks back on how you treated him these last couple of years. How your inability to meet his eyes or hold a conversation with him led him to believe that you were frightened to be near him, frightened of him.

You pull your knees to your chest and rest your chin on your folded arms. You glance away and say softly, “I’m… I’m not good with people. Sometimes it’s okay, but others… it’s like I forget how to talk to people.” You flicker your eyes to his quickly, but look away just as fast. You raise your fingers to your lips and rub back and forth, a nervous habit you’ve had for years. “If…if I… like someone. It makes it worse.”

“And that’s why you wouldn’t talk to me?” Bucky questions, pulling your hand from your mouth and placing a kiss on the center of your palm.Your face flushes and a small smile flits to your face. You nod your head while looking down at your knees.

“Well,” he says, “I like you,too.” You raise your eyes to see a smile lighting up his face and brightening his eyes. “I always have.”

“You do?” you ask, checking to be sure that Bucky isn’t just saying these things because you slept together after feeding from him. “It’s not because of what I did last night?”

“No, sugar,” he replies. “I’ve wanted to be with you this whole time.” You watch his eyes scan your face, watching your reactions and feeling your emotions through your new bond. “Do you want to be with me? I wasn’t going to mark you without asking first, but my instincts wouldn’t allow you to be so close without claiming you.”

You shyly pull your hair over your shoulder where Bucky’s mark resides. You worry a strand between your hands and look up into his eyes. “I… I like it,” you confess, feeling your heart beat faster in your chest at your bold words.

“Good,” Bucky states. He leans into you and brushes your hair back away from your shoulder, exposing your mark and placing a tender peck against the raised edges. “Because you’re mine.”

You nod and tilt your head to the side, allowing Bucky to trail his lips up and down your throat before he makes his way to your lips. He kisses you deeply, his tongue sliding into your mouth and meeting with yours. You hum and unfurl your body, climbing into his lap as his hands guide you into straddling his waist.

“I’m yours,” you agree.

“And I’m yours,” he echoes.

________________________________________

So I didn't have time to make the part 2 I was thinking about for this, but it was never a direct continuation anyway.

Hope you enjoyed! 🎃

#kinktober #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #smut #bucky barnes fic

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