#it weight so heavy on my heart because i see other people
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i really wish i knew what it was about me that makes me so unbearable. what am i doing wrong that iâm so undeserving of love
#i feel like iâm either completely invisible#so horrible that people just canât stand to put up with me#and i donât understand#i want to change. i want to be worth of love. i want to be loved so bad#but i donât know what part of me is so wrong that i just have to be so alone#i donât understandâŠ#it weight so heavy on my heart because i see other people#and i know a âbad personâ is an objective thing#and everyone has different definitions#but it seems like everyone else in the world has someone who loves them#everyone else in the world is able to find love. but i just canât#itâs so unbearable#im so tired of it all..#snow.txt
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CURSED SPIRIT â y.o
†curse! yuuta okkotsu x fem! reader
yuuta okkotsu being your one and only curse.
cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampies. multiple orgasms. groping. dry humping. public sex-ish. fingering. slight oral (f. receiving). overstimulation. thigh fucking. somnophilia. possessiveness. yandere tendencies. mentions of violence. +18!
wc: 1.2k
a/n: inspired by @deviants-forest work! etc. (go check it out) also happy kinktober! :)
Curse!yuuta who creeps up your back, his hands finding your waist and his lips tickle your ear as heâs whispering how much he needs you on a subway train to home. âNot nowâŠâ you whisper over your shoulder to him trying not to be noticeable by others who crowded you and payed no mind, too busy on their phones. You bit your bottom lip when he presses himself against your ass in one movement already having your blood rush like crazy. You try to keep your composure like nothings bothering you but yuutaâs hard on humping into you desperately, whining in your ear and his cold hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boob. âneed you âs badâ he was always touchy, could never keep his hands off you.
Curse!yuuta who doesnât mind your sorcerer friends as long as they donât get too close. Your friends can sense the heavy weight of cursed energy from you, even if they got close it was too much to bare sense yuuta was around, the air would fill thick and negative. You could barely go out with them to eat without his fingers buried in your cunt and playing your clit. They would ask you if you were okay when your head is down on the table but you just excuse it as you were not feeling well for a second but yuuta is grinning ear to ear, amused how your well your taking his slender fingers, curling them inside and you canât help but squirm in your seat acting like your stomach is just hurting though you were about to orgasm. âPlease yuuta..â you whisper to him âCome on you can cum on my fingers..â his raspy tone sending you shivers down your back.
Curse!yuuta who watches an âold friendâ hug you, his hands in places that shouldnât be. After you would praise yuuta for staying calm but yuuta would give shake his head only because you would be upset if he did anything and simply gave you a warning âNext time Iâll break his armâ âYou canât be seriousâ you sigh, you always knew he was.
Curse!yuuta who clenches his fist watching some prick try to flirt with you in front of him knowing he canât be seen. Even the second time you reject him you can feel yuutaâs anger grow by the second that in any moment he would take action. âI-i have a boyfriend-â praying yuuta doesnât get violent âI donât see him?â His hand coming up to touch your shoulder now heâs on the floor shouting in pain, blood from his broken nose all over his hands, shaken up that he didnât see anyone hit him? Was he going crazy? âPatheticâ Yuuta mutters luckily he held back a lot, he could do so much worse and this wasnât the first time.
Curse!yuuta who gets anxious that you might hate him when you get into arguments. He feels like he canât exist without you, heâs nothing without you and the thought of you hating him makes his heart sink and scared that heâll be all alone. He didnât care about anyone else he just needed you. The amount of times you got tired of telling him not to hurt people and you could handle the situation yourself. Heâll plead you not to hate him and apologized excessively. âWe can talk about this tomorrowâ his stomach sinking by the tone of your voice that it will all end up to you hating him. He couldnât stand the feeling.
Curse!yuuta who wants to let you know how much he loves you and how much he needs you, praying you donât leave him or hate him. He glares at you in your sleeping state though he canât wait til tomorrow he needed you to know now. âPlease donât hate meâ âi love you so muchâ as heâs softly kissing your neck on each side, peeling your panties off. The cold air makes your cunt clench at his sight. Heâs kissing the inner of your thighs sweetly and his lips makes contact with your pussy and a small whimper emits from your mouth. âYuutaâ you utter half sleep thinking it was only a sex dream, you were a heavy sleeper at that. heâs burying his lips between your folds trying to get more like he was so starved. If he can just make you feel good you wonât be mad at him and you can forgive him.
Curse!yuuta who canât wait any longer, his dick pulsating through his pants even how much he gets drunk off your pussy, he loves the taste of it every time but heâs rutting against the mattress. Brings your thighs together to slip his cock between, throwing his head back letting out quiet moans as his cock is rubbing against your clit between your thighs. Your eyelids almost twitching open. He spreads your legs apart and sinks his dick into you watching your pretty lashes flutter at the sudden pleasure of you being spread apart. âYu..?â You begin to stir awake, he kisses your lips before you start to fully take consciousness. âI donât want you to hate meâ âforgive me pleaseâ as heâs thrusting harsh inside you and swallowing your lips. By the time your walls were the shape of him every time he used you so it was easy for him to slide right in, you were made for him and he was made for you was the thought that brought him comfort. His fingers entwines with yours, his cock continuously rubbing hard in your insides. âYuuta!â You moaned beautifully in his ear, your hand clawing at his back, yuuta loved it, it didnât hurt him because you could never hurt him he didnât mind it.
Curse!yuuta not wanting to stop, heâll never get tired of cumming and filling up your pussy. Youâll be overstimulated begging him to stop it was awfully much to handle, you couldnât cum anymore but you did as heâs plunging his cock in your abused cunt. The choke sobs and sounds of squelching filled the room âNeed you-need you tell me you love meâŠplease f-forgive me..ah!â Rubbing your clit increasing more nerves. âI-i love you yuuta! Ah-I really do! I could never be mad at youâ Your words lifting weight off his chest still pounding into you. Holding you in a warm embrace to finish inside you. When he did filling up your womb one last time with his string of cum, your nails dig into his back letting your last orgasms crash into you. You let out a cry into his shoulder, your body trembles.
Curse!yuuta who needs constant reassurance youâll never leave him, placing gentle kisses on each part of his face. Even though heâs nothing but a curse to you, being invisible to the outside world, Has a hard time showing remorse itâs just what he does to protect you, he somewhat doesnât know that but knows he can be a bit possessive he just canât help the urges of anyone getting close to you or worse even laying a finger.
Curse!yuuta bending you over the counter in the morning as you were trying to make yourself breakfast, last night was rough you were a bit sore but yuuta still misses your pussy. âJust a quick one I promise! I miss you so much! Iâm just displaying my love for youââ he pushes himself inside your worn out cunt from last night once again, you whimper at the feeling each time he rolls his hips when his balls slap against you. His hands reaching to your tit, massaging it in his palms. You donât think you could ever break the curse from yuuta okkotsu.
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#yuta smut#yuuta smut#yuta okkotsu x reader#yuta okkotsu smut#jjk x you#jjk yuta#yuta x reader#yuta x y/n#kinktober#yuuta okkotsu smut
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right here, yet so far away | oneshot
Pairing:Â Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags:Â exes to lovers, ceo! jungkook x kindergarten teacher! reader, angst, smut, fluff
Word Count: 19.4k (my hands slipped girl)
Chapter Warnings: mature language, unprotected sex (pls be safe), oral (f. receiving), mentions of an accident, coma, violence (lmk if i missed anything)
A/N: hello cuties. this is a special post in honor of me hitting 300 followers. i cant believe the immense support i have received when it's only been a week. thank you so much for consuming my work and supporting me. also please note, the text in italics are for dream sequences or flashbacks. P.S i know people don't just instantly recover after a long coma, but in this story it's just heavy plot armor, so kindly understand.
//
âBut baby⊠please justâŠâ Jungkookâs voice cracks as he jogs to catch up, his hand reaching out for yours. You swat it away without hesitation, the sting of rejection hitting him harder than any words ever could.
âJungkook, stop it.â you say firmly, your tone sharp enough to cut through his soul. He freezes, his wide eyes searching yours for answers.
âBut baby, just tell me why? We were doing so good⊠just yesterday, you... you said you loved me. Please, you canât just... leave like this.â
He tries to observe your expression, hoping to convince himself that this is just some cruel joke. But thereâs no softness in your eyes, no flicker of doubt. Only a cold, unyielding resolve.
âDonât you understand?â you scoff, folding your arms tightly across your chest. âIâm tired of you, Jungkook. Iâm tired of us.â His breath hitches, disbelief flashing across his face. âStop. Donât say that. You donât⊠you donât mean that.â
âI do.â you insist, each word a dagger to his heart. âI mean every word of it. Iâm done with you. This whole relationship⊠itâs not going anywhere. Itâs a waste of time, and I just⊠I canât, Jungkook. We have to break up.â
His shoulders slump, and his chest rises and falls as though the air has been knocked out of him. He stands frozen, staring at you, desperate to find some hint of hesitation in your expression. But all he sees is resolve⊠or at least, what youâre determined to show him.
âWhy?â he whispers, his voice barely audible.
You stare at him blankly. "Because I donât love you anymore.â you reply, your voice unwavering. Jungkook flinches as if struck. His lips part, but no words come out. And when you turn around and walk away, the sound of your retreating footsteps echoes in his ears, louder than any goodbye, as your body disappears into the darkness.
BEEP BEEP BEEP
The shrill wail of the alarm slices through the silence, and Jungkook's eyes harshly open. He gasps for air, his chest heaving as the nightmare clings to him like a second skin.
Itâs always the same nightmare. The same scene. The same words. The same look on your face. The same crushing weight in his chest.
He drags a hand down his face, the coolness of his palm doing little to soothe him. His dark hair sticks to his forehead, damp with sweat, and he blinks up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above him.
For a moment, he just sits there, the silence of his apartment wrapping around him like a cold blanket. A single tear trickles down his temple as images of you flash in his mind, one after the other. His phone buzzes on the nightstand... a reminder of the meetings and deadlines awaiting him, but he doesnât move.
Four months. Itâs been four months since you walked away, and he still doesnât understand why.
He remembers the day of the break up like it was yesterday. The scene is so vividly planted in his mind that he even sees it in his sleep. He canât get rid of the way you looked at him⊠like you despised the sight of him, like you truly didnât love him anymore.
He still doesnât have his answers. Why did you leave so suddenly? Why did your heart just decide it didnât want him anymore? The questions linger in his mind, unanswered, gnawing at him like a constant ache he canât escape.
Jungkook remains rooted on his mattress, the weight of memories pressing down on him as he recalls the first time he saw you. It was over two years ago, but when he recollects it, it feels so vivid, like it's happening in the present.
He had been reluctant to attend an event that was scheduled at a local kindergarten nearby. Exhausted from a long flight back from the States, heâd tried to get out of it. But his assistant, understanding the importance of his role as the CEO, insisted that he'd attend it regardless.
His company wasnât just about selling food products, it was dedicated to promoting healthy living, especially for children. They organized events to educate kids on the importance of good nutrition, partnered with schools to provide nutritious meals, and created fun, interactive programs to get children excited about eating right.
Though Jungkook wasnât keen on spending his afternoon with a room full of energetic kids, he went anyway. The workshop had already started and the moment he stepped into the classroom, ready to grab the attention of the kids, he suddenly spotted you.
You were standing at the front of the room, a soft smile on your face as you engaged with the children, laughing with them and cracking jokes. Your energy was infectious, and the way you moved with such ease around the kids made his heart skip a beat. There was something so warm and genuine about you, something that immediately drew him in.
It wasnât just the way you looked... though you were undeniably beautiful, but how you carried yourself, the kindness that radiated from you, and how at home you seemed in this world of tiny hands and laughter. Jungkook had never been the type to believe in love at first sight, but the moment his eyes landed on you, something inside him shifted.
He had been smitten, captivated in a way he couldnât explain. His thoughts had scattered as he watched you, his mind far from the speech he was supposed to be giving. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you had captured his attention, and yet he couldnât look away.
It wasnât until later, when he was preparing to leave, that he finally found the courage to approach you. He had been nervous, unsure of what to say. But the moment you looked at him, a simple greeting from you was all it took.
Your smile was enough to melt any lingering doubt he had. He introduced himself, his voice slightly shaky but confident enough to make a lasting impression. And you, with that same gentle smile, responded in kind words, immediately making him feel at ease.
He had no idea at that moment that this chance encounter would change his life in the best way possible.
Now, laying in his bed, Jungkook smiles bitterly, remembering how it all started. How he had the most beautiful relationship with you for around a year and three months. How one decision, one visit to that kindergarten, led to everything he lost.
He still can't understand why you left him the way you did, without explanation, without any chance for him to fix whatever went wrong. The image of your face that day... the coldness, the finality, haunts him still.
Despite the whirlwind of thoughts clouding his mind, Jungkook forces himself to push them aside. He stares at the ceiling for a moment longer, allowing the weight of the memories to settle, before finally making the decision to get up.
He knows he canât linger in this state forever. The day is waiting for him, and he canât afford to let his emotions hold him back. With a sigh, he swings his legs off the bed and plants his feet firmly on the floor. The familiar coldness of the hardwood beneath his feet is grounding, and for a brief moment, he feels a sense of control over the chaos in his mind.
The early morning light filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow on his room. He moves to the bathroom, running cold water over his face, hoping it will somehow shake the fog from his thoughts. Itâs a futile attempt, but itâs enough to snap him into the present, if only for a few minutes.
Jungkook stares at his reflection in the mirror, taking a deep breath. His mind is still heavy, but heâs learned over the years to compartmentalize, especially when it comes to work. Heâs the CEO and his company canât afford to be distracted by his personal life. No matter how much his heart aches, thereâs a bigger picture to focus on.
//
You glance at the kids, focused on their coloring books, and a soft smile tugs at your lips. Theyâre adorable, each one lost in their own little world, their tiny hands gripping crayons as they carefully add color to their drawings. You walk around the room, quietly observing their work, admiring the little bursts of creativity.
As you pass by the window, your gaze drifts outside, where a few children are running and playing on the soccer field. You let out a sigh, your fingers subconsciously tracing the pendant of your necklace.
Itâs the only thing that connects you to him, to the one that got away, to the one you let slip right through your fingers, even when it hurt to do so. You close your eyes for a brief moment, and his image floods your mind. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled, the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence.
You miss him so badly, your chest tightening with the weight of it. But you push the feeling down, swallowing the ache in your heart. You remind yourself why it had to end, why you had to walk away. But that doesnât make it hurt any less.
As you stare at the bleachers stand by the green field, a vivid and unpleasant memory creeps up your mind.
"Break up with him."
Junghyunâs voice was calm, his eyes fixed on the empty soccer field ahead. The chilly evening breeze brushed past your hair, but it did little to cool the heat rising in your chest. You turned to look at him, disbelief written all over your face.
"What?" you asked, your voice carrying a mix of confusion and irritation. Junghyun was Jungkook's older brother and his unexpected visit had left you completely on edge.
You had only met this man once before, a fleeting encounter when you accidentally bumped into him outside Jungkookâs apartment one morning. Seeing him now, unannounced at your workplace, caught you completely off guard.
"Break up with him, Y/N." he repeated, turning to face you this time. His gaze was piercing, his tone unyielding. "You know you two belong to completely separate worlds. Jungkook isnât in love... heâs just infatuated. And frankly..." he continued, his voice dropping with disdain. "Youâre nothing but a distraction."
You stared at him, your mind reeling from the audacity of his words. The traffic noise in the far distance felt like static compared to the ringing in your ears. "Are you serious right now?" you managed to say, your tone sharper than you intended.
Junghyun didnât flinch. "Iâm completely serious. Do you think this little fling of yours will lead to anything? Jungkook has responsibilities... he has a company to run, a legacy to uphold. Youâre a kindergarten teacher, Y/n. A sweet girl, sure, but not someone who can keep up with him."
His words stung, but you refused to show it. "Jungkook loves me." you stated firmly, your voice unwavering. "I know how he feels about me. So whatever youâre trying to pull, it wonât work."
Junghyun scoffed, shaking his head. "Love? You call this love? Heâs smitten, sure, but that doesnât mean itâll last. Youâll only hold him back."
You clenched your fists, your chest tightening with frustration. Every instinct in you wanted to yell at him, to tell him how wrong he was, how little he knew about what you and Jungkook shared.
You breathed heavily, your eyes narrowing as they locked onto him. "I'm going to pretend we never had this conversation." you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil bubbling inside. Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel, stepping off the bleacher stands and ready to head back inside.
âHanyung Hospital.â Junghyunâs voice suddenly rang out, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath hitched, and your eyebrows furrowed as your back remained turned to him. A wave of unease settled over you, his words striking a chord you wished he hadnât found.
âIsnât that where your brother is admitted?â His tone was sharp, laced with a smirk you didnât need to see to recognize.
Slowly, you turned to face him, your heart racing as panic flashed across your features. Had this man done a background check on you? Your mind reeled at the thought, fear and anger coursing through you in equal measure.
Junghyunâs smirk deepened as he saw the panic etched on your face. âGuess I know a little too much about you, sweetheart.â he said smoothly, his words dripping with a smug satisfaction.
Your fists clenched at your sides, but your voice caught in your throat. The realization that he had gone to such lengths made your skin crawl, and a sense of dread settled in your stomach.
"See, this is the problem with you lowlifes..." Junghyun sneered, his voice dripping with disrespect. "You have so many weaknesses, yet you never stop dreaming big." He let out a cruel laugh, his eyes glinting with amusement at your stunned silence.
You stared at him, your throat tightening as if the words you wanted to say were caught in a vice. "I heard heâs been in a coma for four years." he continued, his tone casual, almost mocking.
Your eyes stung with unshed tears, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. The mention of your brother... the very core of your vulnerability, felt like a dagger twisting in your heart.
âMaybe I should make sure this coma lasts foreverââ
"What?" The word burst out of you before he could finish. Panic surged through you, visible in the way your breathing quickened. Junghyunâs smirk widened, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction at your reaction. He relished the fear and desperation etched across your face, feeding off the control he had over the situation.
"Leave my brother out of this." you managed to say, your voice low but firm, fists clenched tightly at your sides. "This has nothing to do with him."
You forced yourself to regulate your breathing, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions that were threatening to spill over. But deep down, you knew exactly what this man was doing. And it felt like a threat too enormous to escape.
Junghyunâs smirk only deepened, his silence more unsettling than words. It was as though he reveled in watching you squirm under the weight of his insinuations.
Your mind raced, every possible scenario flashing before you. The influence Jungkookâs family wielded wasnât just intimidating, it was terrifying. They were rich, powerful, and connected in ways you could only imagine.
For all you knew, they could probably make someone disappear without a trace. And standing face-to-face with Junghyun, you started to think that was your chilling reality.
You swallow hard, meeting his gaze with as much resolve as you can muster, but the unease in your chest lingers. You feel trapped, cornered by an enemy who knows just where to strike to hurt you the most.
"Well, sweetheart, I want to leave him out of this too..." Junghyun sighs, his tone mockingly sympathetic. "And you know exactly what you need to do for that to happen."
His words strike like a hammer, each syllable weighing heavier than the last. You feel your whole world collapsing around you, the walls closing in with no way out. You feel suffocated. Cornered. Powerless.
Your gaze drops to your feet, tears pooling in your eyes despite your desperate attempts to hold them back. The fight within you slowly crumbles, leaving only the unbearable weight of his ultimatum.
You clench your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you fight to keep yourself composed.
"I'll break up with him." you whisper finally, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. A tear slips down your cheek, the first crack in the dam as the reality of your surrender settles in.
Junghyun steps down from the bleacher stands, his slow footsteps growing louder in your ears. You donât move, your feet rooted to the ground as if the weight of your decision has physically anchored you.
He stops in front of you, and you feel his presence, his amusement radiating like poison. A soft laugh escapes him, sending shivers down your spine.
"Now that was easy, wasnât it?" he mocks, patting your head like youâre a child whoâs just followed orders. Your jaw tightens, teeth gritting at the humiliating gesture, but you remain silent.
"And this goes without saying, but... Jungkook should never hear about this encounter." Junghyun says, his voice low and taunting as he steps closer.
You don't respond, your throat too tight and your mind too fogged with fear and anger to formulate a reply.
He smirks at your silence before brushing past you, deliberately bumping into your shoulder as if to remind you just how insignificant he believes you to be. The force is slight, but it feels heavier, laden with the weight of everything heâs taken away from you in the matter of mere minutes.
The chilly breeze cuts through the quiet, and you feel it settle deep into your bones, a reminder of just how cold the world can be.
"Miss Choi!" a little voice pierces through the haze of your flashback, pulling you back to reality. Your eyes shift from the bleacher stands outside to the source of the voice. A little girl waves her broken color pencil in the air, her tiny face scrunched in distress.
You force a smile, the corners of your lips lifting as you walk towards her. "Give me that, let me sharpen it for you, Sera." you say softly, patting her head. She nods cutely, her eyes wide with trust and gratitude.
You exhale deeply, the weight in your chest still pressing down as you make your way to the trash can. As the sharpener scrapes against the pencil, you think to yourself. Stop dwelling on the past.
You knew how deeply you felt for Jungkook. He was more than just a fleeting love... he was a part of you, your safe place. But the weight of Junghyun's threat had been too much to bear. It wasnât a fight you could win, not against soemone as powerful as him.
The memory of that day gnaws at you, the helplessness, the bitterness of making a decision you despised with every fiber of your being. But what choice did you have?
Handing the pencil back to Sera, you muster another soft smile. Her joyful expression tugs at your heart, a stark contrast to the storm inside you.
All you can do now is hope that Jungkook is living a happy life, far from the shadows of the truth that forced you apart.
//
Jungkook adjusts his position in the sleek leather chair, trying to focus on the ongoing meeting. The conference room hums with the low murmur of voices as his team discusses the logistics of their next community outreach initiative.
The large screen at the front displays a vibrant presentation, but his mind drifts, struggling to stay anchored in the moment.
âMr. Jeon.â Eunwoo, the Chief Operating Officer, speaks up, pulling him back to reality. âWeâre finalizing the details for the event at the Sunflower Orphanage this weekend.â he says, his tone calm but purposeful.
âItâs part of our âHealthy Futuresâ program.â Eunwoo continues, âWhere we teach the kids about nutrition and provide them with tools to build healthier habits.â
Jungkook nods, his jaw tightening slightly. He taps his pen against the notepad in front of him, the blank page mirroring his lack of focus. âGood. Ensure we send enough materials for the interactive sessions. Iâll review the activity plans later today.â
Eunwoo presses on. âWeâre also organizing a cooking demonstration for the older kids and distributing care packages with nutritious snacks and recipe guides. It might be a good idea for you to attend. I think the kids would really enjoy meeting you.â
Jungkook exhales softly, running a hand through his hair. Public appearances at these events are part of his responsibility, something he takes seriously. Yet, the thought of being surrounded by bright-eyed children feels heavier than usual, a strange weight pressing against his chest.
âIâll check my schedule.â he replies, his tone measured, masking the unease he canât quite shake.
As the meeting concludes, Jungkook steps out of the conference room, loosening his tie as he makes his way towards his office. The familiar click of shoes on the polished floor follows close behind, signaling his secretary, Jimin, is trailing him.
âYour schedule is free, Mr. Jeon.â Jimin remarks, a teasing edge in his voice. âItâs literally the weekend.â Jungkook rolls his eyes, letting out a long sigh. âI know, but I just donât feel like going.â he mutters, his stride purposeful as he heads towards his cabin.
Jimin quickens his pace to match Jungkookâs, his tone light but persistent. âThe kids would love it, Mr. Jeon. Plus, itâs your responsibility.â
Jungkook groans inwardly, knowing thereâs no winning an argument when Jimin uses that reasoning. âFine.â he relents, glancing over his shoulder with a pointed glare. âBut... youâre coming with me.â
âOf course.â Jimin quips with a smirk, unfazed. âI go wherever my boss goes.â
Jungkook shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself, before pushing open the door to his cabin. âYouâre insufferable.â he mutters, disappearing inside. Jimin grins to himself, adjusting his tie. âItâs part of the job.â he mutters quietly before heading back to his desk.
//
The familiar scent of antiseptic and faint floral air freshener envelops you as you step into the hospital. You glance around, taking in the sight of doctors briskly walking in their white coats, nurses tending to charts, and patients navigating the lobby with family members by their sides. The soft hum of conversations and the occasional beep of monitors create a somber yet steady rhythm.
You make your way to the reception desk, offering a small smile to the woman behind the counter. Her face lights up with recognition.
âYouâre early today.â she notes gently. You nod, your expression soft. âI just missed Beomgyu.â you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. She smiles warmly, her eyes filled with understanding. âGo ahead.â she says, motioning towards the elevator.
You thank her with a brief smile before turning and stepping into the elevator, pressing the button to take you to the floor where your brotherâs room is.
The soft chime of the elevator brings you back to reality as the doors slide open. You walk down the familiar corridor, each step feeling heavier as you approach his room. Pushing the door open, your breath catches in your throat as your eyes land on Beomgyu. His motionless body lies on the bed, the faint hum of medical equipment the only sign of life. Four years. Itâs been four long years, and he hasnât moved an inch.
You sit down in the chair next to his bed, your hands trembling as you reach for his. His hand is cold in yours, and the weight of it brings tears to your eyes. But you blink them away, determined to stay strong.
âHey, Gyu.â you whisper, brushing your thumb gently over his knuckles. Your voice is soft, filled with a bittersweet mix of hope and sorrow. âIâm here.â
No matter how many times you see him like this, it never gets easier. Each visit feels like a fresh wound, a new wave of pain crashing over you. He was your only family and the sight of his still body, the steady beep of the monitor, and the faint rise and fall of his chest... it all feels both familiar and unbearable. Every time, itâs as if a tiny piece of your heart breaks all over again.
As you stare at his face, a sigh escapes your lips, heavy with the weight of countless unshed tears. "Gyu..." you whisper, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "Itâs getting so hard." Your words falter, carried by the quiet hum of the machines that have become the soundtrack of his existence.
"No matter what I do... I just... I just canât stop thinking about him." you confess, closing your eyes as the first tear escapes, tracing a slow, burning path down your cheek. Your grip on Beomgyuâs hand tightens, your thumb brushing over his knuckles in slow, rhythmic motions. Though his hand remains lifeless, you hold on as if itâs your last tether to sanity, as if somehow he can feel your anguish.
Maybe he hears me, you think, clinging to the hope that keeps you returning to this room day after day. "I miss him so much." you murmur, your voice cracking under the weight of those words. The sob that escapes your lips feels like a betrayal, exposing just how deeply the pain has taken root.
Beomgyu never met Jungkook... yet, in your heart, you know that if he ever did... he would have absolutely loved him.
You remember that one day you brought Jungkook here, to visit Beomgyu, his hand firmly holding yours as you led him down these sterile hallways.
He had sat beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your trembling frame, as you told him about the accident that had stolen Beomgyuâs vibrant spirit and left him in this suspended state. Jungkookâs presence had been an anchor that day, steady and reassuring, his soft murmurs giving you the courage to speak through your tears.
And then, there was that promise. You can still hear your own voice, shaky but determined, as you looked into Jungkookâs eyes. "When Beomgyu wakes up, youâll be the first to know." The memory feels like a lifetime ago, a fragment of a world where hope felt tangible and love wasnât wrapped in layers of regret.
Now, that promise lingers like a ghost, haunting you with its impossibility. The weight of it presses against your chest, suffocating in its quiet accusation.
You lower your head, your tears falling silently onto the sterile sheets, wishing for a reality where things could have been different... where Beomgyu would wake up, and Jungkook would still be yours to call.
//
After spending about forty minutes sitting by your brotherâs side, you feel the weight of time press down on you. With a reluctant sigh, you lean forward, pressing a gentle kiss on his cool forehead. The stillness of the room wraps around you like an unwanted embrace, amplifying the ache in your chest.
You stand, taking a moment to drink in the sight of him, his face so serene yet painfully distant. Finally, you force yourself to turn away, the sharp pull of grief hurting you even as your feet carry you towards the door.
The hospital hallways stretch before you, illuminated by fluorescent lights that feel too bright for the heaviness clouding your heart. The muted chatter of families and nurses echoes faintly around you, but you tune it out, your focus on the floor ahead.
Every step feels heavy, yet familiar... grief walking alongside you like an old companion. Youâre lost in thought, your mind lingering on memories you can't quite hold onto, when the sharp ring of your phone jolts you back to the present.
You pause, fishing the device out of your bag. The name on the screen makes a faint smile touch your lips. "Hey, Joonie." you greet, your tone soft but warm.
âOh my god Y/N...Hi... where have you been?â Namjoonâs voice filters through, steady yet tinged with his usual concern. âI was just visiting Beomgyu.â you reply, stepping into the elevator as the doors slide open.
âAh...â he murmurs, his voice dropping to a gentler note. âSorry if I disturbed you.â
âNo, not at all.â you assure him, leaning against the elevator wall. âI was just about to leave anyway. Whatâs up?â Thereâs a slight pause on the other end before he continues talking. âI wanted to check if youâre coming to the orphanage this weekend. You know... for the volunteering session.â
The mention of the orphanage brings a warmth to your chest. Your lips curve into a genuine smile as you think of the place thatâs come to feel like a second home. âOf course Iâll be there.â you reply without hesitation.
âThat's great!!â Namjoon says, a hint of relief in his tone. âMrs. Lee mentioned thereâs going to be some kind of workshop for the kids, though Iâm not really sure what itâs about.â
You hum thoughtfully, stepping out of the elevator as it dings open on the ground floor. âA workshop? That sounds interesting. I guess weâll just have to wait and see what it's about.â you muse, the faint hum of curiosity threading through your voice.
Namjoon chuckles lightly. âYeah, seems like it. Anyways, you get home safe, Y/N-ah. I'll see you on the weekend.â he says. âSee you Joonie... Bye.â you reply, your smile lingering as the call ends.
As you slip your phone back into your bag and step into the cool evening air, a quiet sense of purpose washes over you. The orphanage, specifically, the Sunflower Orphanage, holds a deeply rooted place in your heart.
Itâs not just a building, itâs a chapter of your life, a part of your story written alongside your brother, Beomgyu as the two of you grew up there and navigated a world that often felt too vast and too indifferent.
Volunteering there every weekend for the past month with Namjoon hasnât just been about giving back to the place that shaped you, itâs become a way to honor the struggles you and Beomgyu once faced.
Itâs a way of making peace with the past while helping to build a brighter future for the children still living it. The act of helping others has started to feel like a balm for your soul, a small piece of healing in a journey that has felt insurmountable at times.
More than that, itâs helped you stay busy, distracted, keeping your mind from wandering too often to the void that has been lingering in your life for the past four months, an emptiness youâre not ready to confront fully yet.
Every smile from the kids, every hug, every story they share with you reminds you why youâve always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher.
Now, being able to follow your dream and also volunteer at the very orphanage you grew up in, doing your best to give these children the care and love you once longed for, feels profoundly rewarding.
Thereâs a bittersweet comfort in walking the same halls you once did, now as a volunteer instead of a resident. You find joy in helping the kids paint their dreams on blank canvases, in reading stories that spark their imaginations, and in simply being a presence they can rely on.
The Orphanage, with its chipped walls and resilient spirit, has become more than a part of your history... itâs a part of your healing, too.
//
Saturday
"Shit, shit." you mutter under your breath, hastily paying the cab driver before dashing towards the entrance of the orphanage. You were supposed to be here early today, especially since you knew there was a workshop planned for the kids.
Mrs. Lee had mentioned needing help with the setup and cleanup, and youâd eagerly offered. But luck hadnât been on your side. First, your original cab broke down, forcing you to find another. Then, traffic decided to conspire against you, dragging out what shouldâve been a quick journey into an agonizing wait.
As you ran up the steps at the entrance, slightly out of breath, your eyes catch on something that brings you to an abrupt halt. A large banner hangs above the double doors, bold letters printed across it. The sight of it makes your stomach churn.
âNo way...â you whisper, realization dawning like a bucket of ice water poured over your head as you read the banner. âThis is⊠Jungkookâs workshop?â
You stand frozen, trying to process what youâre seeing. The placards stationed around the entrance leave no room for doubt. Each one bears the unmistakable logo of his company. The presentation materials stacked neatly by the door, the branded posters, and even the staff moving equipment inside all scream his involvement.
You inhale sharply, the air catching in your throat. Of course, it had to be here. Of all the orphanages in the city, the one youâve been volunteering at for the past month had to be the very place where Jungkook... your ex boyfriend, Jungkook... is hosting a workshop. The universe really has a twisted sense of humor sometimes.
âFuck.â you mutter, closing your eyes and trying to calm the storm brewing in your chest. You press a hand against the doorframe to steady yourself, taking deep breaths to fight off the anxiety creeping up your spine.
Your mind races with questions youâre not sure you want answers to. Is he here? Or is this one of those events where his employees take the lead while he stays behind the scenes? Should you turn around and leave before anyone notices, or would that make things worse?
You glance back at the cab, still idling by the curb. For a fleeting second, the idea of jumping back in and leaving tempts you. But then you hear the sound of childrenâs laughter filtering through the open doors, mingling with the excited chatter of the staff, and you know you canât just leave.
Bracing yourself, you take another deep breath and step inside, your heart pounding harder with each step. The familiar warmth of the orphanage wraps around you, but today it feels heavier, tinged with the tension youâre carrying. You repeat a silent mantra, trying to ground yourself. Stay professional. This is about the kids. Nothing else matters.
âIâll just⊠Iâll just pretend I donât know him.â you mutter under your breath, nodding to yourself as your footsteps echo in the hallway.
//
As you step into the bustling main hall, your eyes land on Namjoon almost immediately. The minute he spots you too, it doesnât take long for him to weave his way through the crowd towards you, his expression a mix of shock and concern. âY/NâŠâ he begins, his voice low but urgent as he reaches you. âI had no idea this was going to be his workshop.â The disbelief in his tone mirrors your own feelings.
You throw your head back, a groan escaping your lips. âI know. What the hell am I supposed to do? Is he really here, though? Or is it just his team running the workshop?â you ask, a flicker of hope creeping into your voice as you glance at him.
Namjoon hesitates, his lips pressing into a thin line as if heâs trying to cushion the blow. âUnfortunatelyâŠâ he starts, his tone apologetic. âHeâs here. I just saw him talking to Mrs. Lee a few minutes ago.â You close your eyes, rubbing your temples. âThis is so, so, so not fair.â you mutter, your frustration bubbling over.
âHeyâŠâ Namjoonâs voice softens as he places his hands on your shoulders, steadying you. His calm presence is like an anchor in the midst of your swirling emotions. âYouâre going to be fine. I know breaking up with him was hard for you, but right now... the best you can do is just stay professional. Pretend like you donât know him and Iâm sure he wonât approach you⊠I hope.â he adds with a small, uncertain smile.
You let out a shaky sigh, your shoulders slumping under the weight of the situation. Namjoonâs logic makes sense, but it does little to calm the storm brewing inside you. âI havenât seen him in four months, Joon.â you admit, your voice shaky. âAnd now, of all times, I have to see him? Here?â
Namjoon offers you a sympathetic look, his hand squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. âI know itâs hard, but I know youâve got this. Just try your best to avoid him.â
You nod slowly, though youâre far from convinced. This isnât a situation you can simply walk away from. Jungkookâs presence is inevitable now, and the thought of seeing him again, after everything, sends a whirlwind of emotions crashing through you.
You're aware Jungkook won't be expecting to see you here today and you can't help but wonder what his reaction will be when he actually ends up seeing you. Would his expression shift the moment he spots you? Would it be one of cold indifference, barely a flicker of acknowledgment? Or something sharper like anger, disappointment, perhaps even sadness? The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one more unsettling than the last.
Shaking your head, you force yourself to brush the questions aside. Thereâs no time to dwell on this right now. You take a steadying breath and look around the busy hall. Itâs high time you start helping out. After all, youâre already late, and the least you can do is make up for lost time by pitching in wherever youâre needed.
//
Once all the kids are settled in their seats, their excitement bubbling over in the form of giggles and whispers, you step back, making your way to the back of the room. Namjoon is already there, his arms crossed loosely as he leans against the wall. You take your place beside him, exhaling deeply, trying to calm your heart and mind.
As the workshop begins, your eyes inevitably drift to the front of the room. Jungkook stands there, effortlessly commanding attention. Heâs dressed sharply but casually, the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down shirt exposing his tattooed forearm. His presence is magnetic, and itâs no surprise that even the youngest kids are riveted as he begins to speak.
âThis program is called 'Healthy Futures'.â he starts, his tone warm and inviting. âItâs about giving you the knowledge and tools to take care of your health. Eating the right food, staying active, and understanding how to take care of your bodies... itâs not just important now, but itâll help you for years to come.â
He gestures to a large poster board displaying colorful illustrations of fruits, vegetables, and simple meal plans. âToday, weâll talk about nutrition, and weâll even have some fun activities to show you how to make smart food choices. Youâll see how easy it can be to make meals that are both delicious and good for you.â
The kids are wide-eyed, soaking up every word. Jungkookâs ability to connect with them is undeniable. As he dives into the presentation, explaining concepts in simple, engaging terms and peppering his talk with questions to keep the kids involved, a small smile tugs at your lips.
You watch as he crouches down to a childâs level, handing them a flashcard and encouraging them to name the food group it belongs to. The way his eyes light up with genuine enthusiasm when the child gets it right is a sight that momentarily softens the ache in your chest.
You canât help but smile, even if itâs bittersweet. Seeing him like this... passionate, caring, and entirely in his element... reminds you of the man you fell in love with. His natural charm, the way he effortlessly makes others feel seen and valued, is just as captivating now as it was then.
Namjoon nudges you gently. âYou okay?â he asks, his voice low. You nod again, your gaze fixed on Jungkook. âYeah.â you whisper, though the lump forming in your throat makes it a struggle to get the word out. âIâm fine.â you say.
//
As Jungkook wraps up his talk, his voice is steady and warm, a reflection of the effort heâs poured into making this workshop meaningful. âAlright, kids, now itâs time for the fun part...â he announces with a grin.
âMy team is going to help you make a simple, healthy snack, something delicious and easy that you can make yourselves... so follow them and they'll guide you through the process." he says.
The children erupt in cheers and applause, their excitement echoing through the hall. Jungkookâs smile widens at their enthusiasm, the earlier reluctance he felt about being here melting away. Itâs moments like these that make everything worth it. Seeing their faces light up is a reward far greater than any professional accolade.
As the kids begin to disperse, following the other employees out of the hall, Jungkook takes a moment to glance around, his eyes scanning the room to take in the atmosphere. And then he suddenly sees you.
Jungkook lips part a watches you intently, his eyes trailing as you exchange words with Namjoon before following him out of the room. His throat feels dry, his mind reeling. She's⊠here? The words echo in his head as his heart pounds erratically against his ribcage.
He gulps, trying to steady himself, but the unexpected sight of you has thrown him completely off balance. Before he can fully process his spiraling thoughts, Jiminâs voice cuts through the haze.
âMr. Jeon, shall we?â he prompts, his tone professional but gentle, unknowingly grounding Jungkook back to the present. He blinks, nodding faintly as he forces his legs to move, trailing behind his secretary towards the activity room.
But just when he enters the activity room, what he doesn't expect is for you to be the first person he sees. Youâre standing just a few feet away, holding a precarious stack of trays to distribute it among the kids. Your focus is elsewhere, until your eyes suddenly meet his. The world tilts for a moment as your face registers a mix of shock and disbelief.
The impact of seeing him here, so close, sends a jolt through you. Your grip falters, and before you can stop it, the trays slip from your hands, the clattering sound echoing through the room as everything scatters across the floor.
The kids go silent, their chatter replaced by a stunned hush as all eyes turn towards you. The embarrassment and panic that flood your system make your skin prickle, but before you can even begin to move, Jungkook is already in front of you.
âAre you... are you okay?â His voice is low, concerned, his hands gently closing over yours as if to steady you. His touch is firm yet hesitant, and the warmth of his palms against your skin sends a shiver through you.
You can barely process his words, your heart pounding too loudly in your ears. Your lips part, but no sound comes out as you struggle to respond. The way heâs looking at you... those familiar dark eyes filled with a mixture of worry and something deeper, makes it impossible to think straight.
âI uhhh... Iâm fine.â you finally stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Your cheeks burn as you quickly try to pull your hands back, but he doesnât let go immediately. His fingers linger for a second longer than necessary, as if heâs reluctant to lose the contact.
Namjoon, having watched the entire scene unfold, clears his throat as he approaches. âY/N, are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?â he asks, his tone gentle yet purposeful, as if trying to diffuse the tension.
âIâm fine.â you repeat, louder this time, forcing yourself to look away from Jungkook as you pull your hand away from his and focus on the mess on the floor. You crouch down, starting to pick up the scattered trays, desperate to avoid his eyes. Namjoon joins you without a word, but you can feel Jungkookâs gaze still fixed on you.
Jimin steps forward, clearly confused by the sudden commotion. âMr. Jeon, should we...â he starts, glancing between Jungkook and the scene before him, but Jungkook barely acknowledges him. His focus is solely on you, his mind racing as he tries to process everything.
For Jungkook, this moment feels surreal. He hadnât prepared himself for seeing you... not here, not like this. And now, with you so close yet seemingly so far, the weight of everything unsaid between you presses down on him like a tidal wave.
He wants nothing more than to just hold you, to pull you close and take in every detail of your face. These four months have been nothing short of hell, filled with an unrelenting ache for your presence.
But as he watches you so obviously avoiding him, he feels rooted to the spot, his mind scrambling to find the right words... words that refuse to come out.
//
Once the kids are fully immersed in their activity, you quietly slip out of the room, desperate for a moment to catch your breath. The weight of Jungkookâs presence had pressed on you relentlessly for the past twenty minutes, his gaze a constant reminder of the unresolved emotions between you two. Each stolen glance felt like it peeled back layers of the wall youâd carefully built around yourself.
The hallway is quiet as you walk towards the large window at the far end, your footsteps muffled against the polished floor. You pause there, gazing out at the orphanageâs small garden, the scene outside blurring as your mind spins.
Your fingers find the pendant hidden beneath your sweater, and you begin to fidget with it, the familiar texture grounding you. This pendant, this tiny piece of jewelry, holds a weight of its own, a connection to a past that feels both distant and ever-present.
Seeing Jungkook up close had hit you harder than you expected. He hadnât changed. He was still just as beautiful, still radiated that quiet warmth that had always drawn people to him. The same warmth youâd once found comfort in.
And you missed him... God, you missed him in a way that made your chest ache. But that only made it worse. Because you couldnât let yourself fall apart, not now, not when you had to face him. Youâre so lost in thought that the sound of a familiar voice startles you.
âY/n.â
Your body tenses instantly. You donât turn, your fingers reflexively tucking the pendant back beneath your sweater as if itâs some fragile secret you need to protect. You stay facing the window, your breaths shallow as you try to steady your heartbeat.
âYou⊠wonât even look at me?â Jungkook's voice is soft, hesitant, but the pain in it cuts through you like a blade. You bite your lip, your eyes still fixed on the view outside, but all you can feel is him. The rawness of his words sinks into you, heavy and unshakable.
âY/nâŠâ His voice comes again, quieter this time, almost breaking. Itâs not just a name... itâs a plea, one you wish you could ignore but know you canât.
You hate this. You hate that Jungkook, of all people... the kindest, most selfless soul youâve ever known... is standing here now, burdened by the pain you caused him. You hate that youâre the one who turned his world upside down. And yet, even now, you canât bring yourself to face him.
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as you turn to face him. Your expression is blank, a carefully constructed mask. âWhat?â The word comes out cold, clipped, and you instantly regret the sharpness of your tone.
Jungkookâs gaze softens as he studies you, his dark eyes tracing the contours of your face. You still look the same... still breathtaking, still the person he fell hopelessly in love with. But thereâs something different too, a guardedness that wasnât there before, a distance he doesnât know how to bridge.
âHow⊠how have you been? Itâs been a while.â he says softly, his voice laced with hesitation as he takes a tentative step closer.
âIâm fine.â The words come quickly, too quickly, as if youâre desperate to end this conversation before it can even begin. You donât meet his gaze for long, your eyes flicking away like youâre afraid of what he might see.
Every second in his presence feels like an eternity, the weight of the emotions swirling between you both, suffocating. You canât do this. Not now, not like this. The effort of keeping your face neutral, of pretending you donât feel the same pull towards him that you always have... itâs too much.
Without another word, you move to step past him, your focus solely on the hallway ahead. But before you can escape, his hand reaches out, catching your wrist. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt through you, halting you in your tracks.
âWait.â he says, his voice quiet but firm. Thereâs a vulnerability in his tone that makes your chest tighten, and for a moment, you canât bring yourself to look at him.
You take a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his hand wrapped gently around your wrist. Itâs almost unbearable... how much harder this is than youâd expected. Having him so close, right there behind you, stirs emotions youâve fought tirelessly to suppress.
Slowly, you turn over your shoulder, finally meeting his eyes. The intensity in them is overwhelming, a deep sea of emotions you canât bring yourself to name. They hold so much... questions, pain, longing and you feel a lump rise in your throat as you let out a shaky breath.
âLet me go, Jungkook.â you say quietly, your voice steadier than you feel. You try to tug your wrist free, but his grip tightens ever so slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to keep you rooted in place.
âI didnât expect to see you hereâŠâ he says softly, his voice low and filled with something you canât quite place. Heâs ignoring your plea, but thereâs no malice in it, only hesitation, like he doesnât want to let go just yet. âIâm volunteering.â you reply flatly, forcing the words out without a hint of emotion. âAnd I need to go.â you add, your tone clipped as you yank your wrist out of his hold.
This time, he lets you go, his hand falling to his side as he watches you stride away from him as fast as you can manage. You donât dare look back, even as you feel his gaze linger on you, burning into your retreating figure. Your heart pounds with each step, your emotions bubbling dangerously close to the surface, but you donât stop. You canât.
You barge into the restroom, letting the door shut heavily behind you. The cool air does nothing to soothe the storm raging inside you. Instantly, your hands fly up to cover your face, a desperate attempt to stifle the sobs threatening to escape.
Your chest heaves as you fight against the tears that burn at the edges of your eyes, your palms pressing against your cheeks as if holding yourself together. But itâs futile. The weight of seeing him again... his voice, his touch, the unspoken pain in his eyes, comes crashing down on you all at once.
A strangled breath escapes your lips, and you lean against the sink for support. Your fingers grip the edge of the cold porcelain as if itâs the only thing keeping you grounded. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, your blurred vision making it hard to focus.
âThis isnât how it was supposed to be.â you whisper to yourself, your voice breaking. Your tears fall freely now, streaking down your cheeks as the emotions youâve bottled up for months finally spill over. The ache of his presence, the agony of your unresolved feelings... itâs all too much.
You press a trembling hand against your chest, trying to steady the harsh pounding of your heart. For a moment, you close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you attempt to compose yourself. But the pain lingers, sharp and unrelenting.
//
The workshop winds down, the chatter of children and clinking of utensils slowly fading into the background. Youâve spent the entire afternoon and evening carefully maneuvering to avoid Jungkookâs gaze, your heart in a constant state of unease.
Every glance he threw your way, every fleeting moment you felt his presence nearby, only made the weight in your chest heavier.
By the time the clock strikes 8, exhaustion has seeped into your bones, not just from the work but also from the emotional toll of the day. Mrs. Lee thanks you warmly as you help her finish setting up dinner. Namjoon remains by your side, quiet but supportive, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos of your thoughts.
âYou did great today.â he murmurs softly as you both step out of the main hall, his tone gentle. You offer him a faint smile, appreciating his effort to lighten your mood, but the turmoil inside you is too heavy to shake off completely.
Finally, you decide itâs time to leave. Walking down the stairs by the entrance, you feel the cool evening breeze brush against your cheeks. You glance up at the darkening sky, the stars peeking through faintly, their distant glow a stark contrast to the storm swirling within you.
Pulling your coat tighter around you, you fix your bag on your shoulder and bury your hands in your pockets. The thought of going home to the solace of your quiet living room, sappy rom-coms, and a tub of ice cream feels like the only reprieve youâll get tonight.
As you reach the bus stop, you take a seat on the cold bench, staring at the empty road ahead. The world around you feels quiet and still, yet your mind is an undying chaos. Your thoughts drift back to Jungkook... his voice, his touch, the way his eyes silently pleaded with you earlier and just how much you miss him.
You sigh heavily, resting your elbows on your knees and burying your face in your hands. The ache of seeing him again lingers like a ghost, refusing to leave you be.
As you attempt to gather your thoughts, the soft hum of an approaching engine disrupts your reverie. Your head lifts instinctively, and before you can process it, a sleek car pulls to a stop right in front of you. The headlights cast a gentle glow on the empty road, but itâs the sight of the driver that makes your breath hitch.
Your lips part in surprise, your brows furrowing as the window rolls down. There he is, his dark eyes fixed on you.
âY/n.â Jungkook calls softly, his voice carrying over the quiet evening. You sigh, a mix of frustration and weariness bubbling within you. Without a word, you stand, shifting your gaze to the left, hoping to catch sight of the bus that feels agonizingly far from arriving.
âY/n, itâs late. Let me drop you home.â Jungkook says, his tone gentle but insistent. Your heart stumbles at the offer, the thought of being alone with him sending your nerves into overdrive. You donât trust yourself... not with how raw and exposed you feel after today. So, you do what youâve been doing all afternoon. You ignore him.
Fixing your gaze on the road ahead, you refuse to acknowledge him. âY/n, pleaseâŠâ His voice softens, almost breaking. You clench your jaw, the plea digging into you, forcing you to glance at him. âJust go, Jungkook.â you snap flatly, your tone colder than you intended.
Jungkookâs grip on the steering wheel tightens as your words hit him like a blow. He swallows hard, his gaze never leaving you. âIâll just drop you home. Please, itâs not safe this late.â he persists, his determination unwavering.
You shake your head, muttering under your breath as you start walking down the pavement, each step heavier than the last. But Jungkook, true to his nature, doesnât back down so easily.
The car begins to crawl forward, matching your pace as you walk. His persistence is both frustrating and heartbreaking. You can feel his gaze through the window, silently urging you to stop, to listen, to look at him.
âY/n.â he calls out again, his voice tinged with desperation. Your chest tightens as you quicken your steps, hoping to outrun the storm of emotions brewing within you. But no matter how far you walk, Jungkook is right there, his car trailing you like a shadow, refusing to let you go.
The sound of the car suddenly stopping and the door opening breaks through the rhythm of your footsteps, and you stiffen. You donât turn around, determined to maintain your resolve, but then you feel it... a firm yet gentle hand gripping your arm, spinning you around effortlessly.
Your eyes widen as you find yourself face-to-face with Jungkook, the intensity in his gaze pinning you in place. His breath is uneven, as if heâs been chasing you, though he hasnât. âPlease.â he says, his voice raw and pleading. âJust let me drop you home. Thatâs literally all Iâm asking.â
His words hang heavy between you, and for a moment, you close your eyes, exhaling sharply. His persistence is unrelenting, and deep down, you know your bus isnât arriving anytime soon to save you from this situation.
You pull your arm free from his grasp, the warmth of his touch lingering even as you step back. Without meeting his gaze, you walk towards his car, your resolve cracking under the weight of exhaustion and inevitability.
Sliding into the passenger seat, you settle into the cold leather with a resigned sigh, the door closing behind you with a soft thud. He'll just drop me home, you convince yourself as you donât look at him, keeping your gaze fixed ahead.
Jungkook quietly gets back into the driverâs seat, his movements careful as if afraid to shatter the fragile silence that now envelops the two of you. The hum of the engine rises again, but neither of you say anything, the tension stretching thin as the car begins to move.
As Jungkook drives, the rhythmic sound of the tires on the road fills the car, but the silence between you feels louder, heavier. Your gaze remains fixed outside the window, the passing streetlights casting fleeting glows across your face. Your hands clutch your purse tightly on your lap, a silent anchor to steady your racing emotions.
The stillness is suddenly broken by his voice, soft but heavy with restraint. âSo⊠how have you been?â he asks, his eyes focused on the road ahead.
You don't answer. You donât move. You donât flinch. Your determination to stay silent grows stronger as you think about the consequences of letting him back into your life. The jagged edges of your reality press against you like shards of glass.
âY/nâŠâ he calls out again, his voice gentler this time, but still, you keep your gaze fixed outside, ignoring the crackling tension in the air.
He exhales audibly, the pain in his voice more evident now. âY/n, I havenât seen you in four months... and now youâre here, but youâre acting like I donât even exist.â His words tremble, and you feel the sharp sting of guilt twisting in your chest.
âYouâre right here.â he murmurs, almost to himself. âBut why do you feel so far away?â
Your lips tighten into a thin line, and your grip on your purse grows tighter. You can feel his eyes on you, searching, pleading, but you refuse to meet his gaze. âAre you really not going to talk to me⊠at all?â he asks, his voice breaking slightly at the end.
Jungkook glances at your side profile, his knuckles white against the steering wheel as he fights to hold himself together. The hurt in his chest feels unbearable, a weight pressing harder with every second of your silence.
Heâs done his best to come to terms with your absence, with the breakup, even when the harsh reasons you gave felt like flimsy walls hiding something bigger. But now, sitting this close to you and being treated like a stranger, it cuts deeper than he expected.
âYou know whatâŠâ Jungkook suddenly mutters under his breath, and though you hear the shift in his tone, you donât move, donât react. But then the car swerves abruptly, jerking to the left. Your head snaps towards him, eyes wide with shock as you clutch the handlebar above your seat.
âJungkook!â you exclaim, your heart hammering as you notice the road signs signaling that heâs no longer heading towards your neighborhood.
âI canât do this anymore.â he says, his voice firm but tinged with exhaustion. His grip on the steering wheel tightens and his foot presses harder on the gas pedal, the car speeding up.
âJungkook, what are you doing?? Slow down !!â you demand, trying to mask the panic creeping into your voice. âWe need to talk.â he states simply, his eyes focused on the road ahead as if thereâs nothing else in the world but his determination.
Your breath catches in your throat, and your mind races. âJungkook, turn the car around.â you say firmly, though your voice wavers slightly.
But he doesnât listen. Instead, his jaw tightens, and the speed of the car increases further, the scenery outside blurring. Then it hits you... heâs heading in the direction towards his place.
âJungkookâŠâ you begin, your voice softer now, a mixture of anger and disbelief.
He doesnât answer this time, his silence carrying more weight than words ever could. His gaze remains locked forward, the muscles in his jaw ticking as if heâs trying to rein in the storm brewing within him.
You glance outside, feeling both trapped and helpless. Every instinct in you screams to argue, to demand that he stops, but a part of you... a small, stubborn part wonders what heâs so desperate to say.
After 10 tense minutes of silence, the car finally comes to a halt in front of Jungkook's building. He doesnât waste a second, stepping out of the car and slamming the door behind him. You watch him from the corner of your eye, your hands still gripping the purse on your lap, as he strides purposefully to your side of the car.
Before you can even process whatâs happening, he pulls the door open, and the chill of the night air sweeps over you, making you shiver. He leans down slightly, his dark eyes locking with yours, filled with an unrelenting determination that sends your heart racing.
âCome with me.â he says, his voice steady but soft as he extends a hand towards you. You stare at his hand, conflicted, the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest. You feel cornered, unable to escape this situation heâs forced you into.
âJungkookâŠâ you begin, but the words catch in your throat. He sighs, his shoulders sagging slightly, as if the plea in your voice strikes a chord in him. But before you can say anything else, he gently grabs your wrist. The touch is soft, hesitant, but thereâs an urgency to his movements as he guides you out of the car.
You stumble slightly, your body still resistant, but he steadies you with a firm yet careful grip. Heâs desperate, you can see it in the way his brows furrow, the way his lips press into a thin line as if heâs barely holding himself together. âJungkook, I...â you breathe out, the words getting stuck in your throat.
âJust⊠please.â he interrupts, his voice raw with emotion. âI just wanna talk.... Please.â
His eyes search yours, and you can feel the ache in them, the unspoken pain heâs been carrying. Your chest tightens, and for a moment, youâre frozen, unable to say no, unable to pull away. He doesnât give you a chance to argue further, his hand slipping from your wrist to your hand, his fingers curling around yours as he gently but firmly leads you towards his house.
You let out a shaky breath, the weight of the moment heavy in the air as you reluctantly follow him.
As Jungkook shuts the door to his apartment, the click echoes in the silence. He turns to face you, his eyes soft but piercing, like heâs searching for something heâs desperate to find.
âY/n.â he says, your name rolling off his tongue like a plea.
You try to avoid his gaze, looking anywhere but at him, but then his hands come up to cup your face, his warmth grounding you in a way that sends a pang through your chest. His touch is gentle, yet insistent, as if heâs afraid youâll disappear if he lets go.
âY/n, please.â he murmurs, his voice trembling. âJust talk to me.â
Your breath hitches, and you instinctively step back, only to feel the cool, unyielding wall against your back. Youâre cornered... literally and emotionally... and the weight of the moment bears down on you.
Your emotions, so carefully locked away, begin to bubble to the surface. Anger, regret, frustration, they all swirl together, threatening to consume you. Gritting your teeth, you grab his wrists and pull his hands away from your face.
âJust leave me alone.â you choke out, your voice breaking. The tears that have been fighting to escape finally spill over, cascading down your cheeks. Before you know it, youâre sobbing uncontrollably, your body trembling as the dam holding back your emotions shatters.
Jungkookâs eyes widen in shock as he watches you unravel before him. His heart clenches painfully at the sight of your tears, the sound of your sobs cutting through him like a knife. He steps closer instinctively, his hands hovering uncertainly as if unsure whether to comfort you or give you space.
âY/nâŠâ he begins, his voice soft and hesitant, but you shake your head violently, interrupting him.
âYou canât do this, Jungkook.â you cry out, your voice trembling with frustration. âAfter everything I did to cut you off⊠you canât just... just pull me back like this.â
Your words hit him like a blow, and he takes a shaky step back, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
âDo you think this is easy for me?â he finally says, his voice breaking. âI didnât want to pull you back, Y/n. But how am I supposed to let you go when I donât even understand why you left?â
His words hang in the air, and you stare at him through your blurry vision, your heart pounding as his pain intertwines with yours. Youâre both standing on the edge of a precipice, the weight of your shared history threatening to pull you under.
The air between you feels heavy, thick with emotions neither of you can control anymore. Jungkookâs gaze locks onto your tear-streaked face, his breathing shallow as he watches the pain and turmoil in your eyes. Something inside him snaps, and before he can stop himself, he takes a step forward, closing the distance between you.
His hands cradle your face, trembling slightly, as he leans in and harshly presses his lips against yours. Itâs desperate, unrestrained, and raw. The suddenness of it makes you gasp, your breath hitching as his lips move against yours, pouring every unspoken word, every unanswered question into the kiss.
Your eyes flutter shut, and for a moment, your mind is overwhelmed by the flood of memories... his laugh, his touch, the way he used to make you feel like you were the only person that mattered. But as much as the kiss ignites a fire inside you, your tears donât stop.
Jungkook feels the wetness of your tears against his palms, and it pulls him back abruptly. He steps away, his face etched with regret and panic, as if realizing he may have crossed a line he shouldnât have.
âI... Iâm sorry.â he stammers, his voice shaking as he searches your face. âI shouldnât haveââ
Before he can finish, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him back towards you, your lips colliding with his in a kiss thatâs equally urgent and desperate. Your hands clutch onto him like heâs the only thing anchoring you to reality, and this time, the weight of all the emotions youâve been holding back crashes into him.
Your kiss is messy, tinged with anger, longing, and sorrow, but itâs real. Itâs the connection youâve been denying for so long. Jungkook responds immediately, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer as if afraid youâll slip away again.
The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in this moment, grappling with the emotions youâve tried so hard to suppress.
Your lips never part, not even for a second, as you start pulling each otherâs clothes off, letting them fall to the ground one after the other. Every single article of clothing gets discarded in a trail leading from his door step to his living room.
The heat between you intensifies, growing hotter and wilder with every second. Itâs like youâve been starving for each other, for this moment, this connection for so long that now you canât help but devour each other.
You know you shouldn't be doing this. You know you can't face the consequences of your impulsive actions, but your heart refuses to let go. You're completely consumed by the passion and intensity of the kiss, unable to pull yourself away even when you have so much on the line.
Even as you walk into his apartment, your lips remain connected, your hands gripping his arms, holding onto him as if youâre afraid heâll disappear if you let go. The world spins around you as he picks up the pace, guiding you to the couch. Your feet brush against the soft carpet, sending shivers up your leg, and before you know it, you feel the cushion behind you.
The feeling of Jungkook on top of you is nothing less than heaven. You run your hands up and down his tattooed arm, feeling the way his muscles tense with each touch. His kisses trail down your neck, making you squirm under him.
âFuck...â he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin as he takes off your bra in a swift motion.
He groans softly, his eyes wide as they drink in the sight of you beneath him. Then his gaze falls to your collarbone, lingering on the familiar pendant resting against your skin.
"The... necklace." he notices, his fingers reaching out to brush it gently. His touch is reverent, almost hesitant, as if the small piece of jewelry holds all the words he canât say. He looks up into your eyes, a subtle smile curving his lips.
"You... you never took it off?" he asks, his voice laced with slight disbelief.
"Never." you affirm softly, your voice steady yet tender. His eyes soften, glimmering with emotions too deep for words, and for a moment, it feels as if the necklace is the silent thread that has always held your hearts together.
âIâŠâ his voice trails, and you can tell heâs struggling to find the right words. âI fucking missed you.â he breathes out and without giving you a chance to respond, he leans down and presses his lips to your chest.
You let out a moan as he starts sucking on the skin between your breasts, and your hips squirm beneath him. âKookâŠâ you gasp as his mouth closes around one of your nipples, making you arch your back. He bites down gently, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure.
You can feel his body shaking on top of you, the desperation to get closer to you is so so evident. His hand slides up your leg and rests at your waist before slipping under your back, lifting your hips to meet his. The kiss that follows is sweet and gentle, like heâs trying to apologize for everything thatâs happened between you, even when it's not his fault.
Your hands move to his hair, twisting into the dark strands as you pull him even closer. You canât stop yourself, you canât resist him anymore. The feeling, the warmth, the electricity, itâs too hard to fight. Your body is craving his, and heâs giving you all the affection youâve been craving for these past four dreadful months.
His lips trail down your body, stopping at the spot between your legs as he slides your underwear down your legs. You gasp as you watch him dip his head, the warmth of his tongue circling your clit. Your hands grip the couch, and your body arches in reaction to the pleasure heâs sending through your body.
âFuck.â you gasp, barely able to string the words together as he presses his face between your legs. Jungkook moans, his tongue licking around your clit in firm, steady strokes. Your hands move from the couch to his shoulders, pushing him further between your legs.
He looks up at you, his eyes filled with hunger and desire, his chin wet from your arousal, as he grips your hips and pulls you closer. He buries his tongue as deep as it can go, causing your body to jerk in reaction.
You cry out his name, your voice hoarse as your hands grip his hair. Jungkook feels himself get harder as he flattens his tongue, applying pressure to your clit. âFuck⊠please... please Kook... donât stop.â you beg as he licks you faster, your hips rocking against his face.
Your moans echo through the empty apartment as Jungkook works you closer and closer to release. When he stops sucking your clit and presses his tongue deep inside of you instead, you lose it, your orgasm washing over you in waves.
You canât do anything but lay there and take it, your legs shaking and twitching around his face as your body convulses with pleasure.
He kisses his way up your body, licking the sweat from your skin before he finally reaches your lips. The taste of your arousal on his lips sends heat through you, and you moan as his tongue enters your mouth.
Your tears are back, running down your cheeks as you try to process the moment. Jungkook pulls away from your lips and places his forehead against yours. His thumb softly wipes your tears away, as he tries to process this surreal moment himself.
âFuck...â he whispers as he slowly rubs his length against your core, sending sparks through your body. You feel the warmth of his skin against yours... your bodies pressed together in a way you can't comprehend.
âI... I need you baby....â Jungkook murmurs against your lips, his length rubbing against you. You breathe heavily as you nod, wanting him to just take you right here, right now.
With one swift motion, he pushes himself inside you, filling you completely. Your lips part as you take in the feeling of being stretched out by him.
Jungkook stills for a moment, taking in the feeling of finally being back inside of you. He thought heâd never have you like this again, that heâd lost you forever, but here he is, buried deep inside your warmth. His eyes stare into yours, watching your chest heave up and down as you try to adjust to the feeling you had so deeply missed.
You stare into him, sniffling as your tears refuse to stop flowing. âI love you...â you hear him say as he leans forward again, capturing your wet lips in an urgent kiss.
As the kiss grows intense, he starts moving his hips, thrusting in and out of you in a slow and steady pace. Your hands grip his arms, digging your nails into his skin as you arch your back. Jungkook kisses you harder, his moans filling the air around you.
His movements are filled with need and longing, like heâs afraid this is the last time heâll get to make love to you. He wants to take in every moan, every thrust, every gasp he gets from you.
Youâre lost in the sensation, consumed by the pleasure Jungkook is giving you as his body moves over and into you. He holds you down, his weight pinning you to the couch as he makes love to you in his living room. You feel his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts deeper inside you.
Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer as you gasp for air but his hands grip your legs, moving them up his body as he lifts your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The change of position causes him to slide deeper inside you, and you gasp as he hits a familiar spot inside and all you can see is stars.
âOh god....â you moan as he starts increasing his pace. Your lips part as the sensation washes over you. Jungkook leans down, pressing his lips to yours as he fucks you with reckless abandon. Heâs chasing his own release, but he wants you to come with him.
He thrusts into you over and over again, his hands gripping your waist as he holds himself up. Your hands are on his ass, pushing him closer, begging for more as he groans into your mouth.
Your moans fill the air as you feel your body build towards a second release. Jungkook feels it too, his pace picking up as he drives you over the edge once more. âIâm...I'm coming...â you cry, your nails digging into his skin.
Jungkook groans in response, his thrusts becoming wild and desperate. He fucks you like he canât get enough, like heâll never get to have you again.
You moan into his mouth as your orgasm washes over you once more. Your body convulses under him, and you canât do anything but let it take you over. Jungkook grunts, his body shaking above you as he chases his own release.
âFuck baby...â he groans as he fills you up and collapses on top of you his body shuddering and his hips thrusting into you a few more times, stretching out his orgasm as much as he can. Your arms wrap around him, holding him close as you take in the warmth of his body against yours.
Jungkook presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, the gesture carrying a weight of emotions he canât put into words. The moment feels surreal, almost fragile, as if one wrong move could shatter it.
He never imagined heâd hold you like this again, the warmth of your presence grounding him in a reality he once thought heâd lost forever. To him, this feels like a stolen dream... achingly beautiful, yet tinged with the fear that it might slip away.
He slowly rolls off you, settling beside you against the soft cushions of the couch. His arms wrap around you instinctively, holding you close as his eyes trace the lines of your face.
The exhaustion etched into your features tugs at his heart. His gaze drifts downward, gazing at the necklace around your neck. You didn't take it off and... that must mean something right? As he continues taking in the sight of you, he feels an overwhelming ache rise within him... he had missed you more than words could ever convey.
A thousand questions crowd his mind. He wants to speak, to ask, to understand, to unravel everything that had been left unsaid and find a way back to what you guys once were. But then he notices the way your eyelids flutter, heavy with weariness, and the soft, unsteady rhythm of your breaths as you try to calm yourself.
He swallows the urge to press for answers, deciding that for now, the questions can wait. Morning will come soon enough. Instead, he tightens his hold on you, his heart pounding in his chest as he silently wills himself to remain still. The warmth of your presence soothes him, and he closes his eyes, hoping that sleep will find him in the solace of this stolen moment.
//
Jungkook's eyebrows knit together in his sleep, a slight twitch running through his body as he shifts uncomfortably on the couch. His eyes flutter open, and he instinctively clutches the blanket against his chest. Blinking groggily, he glances around, the familiar sight of his apartment slowly coming into focus.
The realization that heâs on the couch sinks in, and like a tidal wave, the memory of last night crashes into him. His breath hitches, and he jolts upright, his heart pounding in his chest. Panic bubbles beneath the surface as he glances at the empty space behind him.
He looks down at the blanket draped over his body, a puzzled frown forming as he struggles to recall when or how it got there. His eyes dart around the room, searching for any sign of you, but the stillness of his apartment feels unnervingly hollow. The silence presses down on him, heavy and suffocating.
Rising to his feet, Jungkook starts moving through the apartment, his voice shaky as he calls out your name. "Y/N??" he tries again, his tone more urgent this time. But thereâs no answer.
Each step he takes only amplifies the sinking feeling in his chest. He checks the kitchen, the bathroom, his bedroom, even the balcony, but youâre nowhere to be found. His mind spirals, questioning if last night had been a cruel dream... a mirage conjured by his yearning.
Or had you truly been here, only to slip away quietly in the morning? The thought twists his stomach, leaving him nauseous as he leans against the wall, his hands trembling. Did he really lose you all over again?
Jungkook doesnât waste a second. His movements are frantic, hands fumbling as he pulls on his clothes in haste, not even bothering to smooth out the wrinkles. His mind is racing, each thought more urgent than the last. He grabs his keys and bolts out the door, the sound of it slamming shut echoing through the empty hallway.
His heart pounds as he throws himself into the driverâs seat, the familiar hum of the engine roaring to life beneath him. His knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel, the tension radiating through his body. His eyes burn with exhaustion, but the ache in his chest far outweighs it.
The city is still waking up, the roads bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun. Jungkook doesnât care. He presses harder on the accelerator, weaving through the sparse traffic with reckless determination. Every red light feels like a lifetime, every delay an unbearable agony.
He can't stop thinking about you. The way your touch felt like home, the way your lips trembled against his last night, and the way your tears spoke of everything you were too afraid to say. He canât let that go. He wonât.
The thought of losing you again, of waking up every morning knowing youâre out there but not by his side, terrifies him. Itâs a kind of pain he doesnât think he can survive twice.
As he nears your neighborhood, his pulse quickens. He doesnât know what heâll say, or how youâll react, but none of it matters. All he knows is that he needs you... more than air, more than anything.
Parking haphazardly in front of your house, he bolts towards your door, his heart hammering as he begins knocking. Thereâs no answer, and his anxiety only grows. He steps off your porch, wondering where you could be.
He rushes outside, reaching the pavement, desperately scanning the neighborhood, hoping to catch a glimpse of you somewhere.
He runs through the neighborhood, his heart pounding, the anxiety gnawing at him as he checks every corner, every familiar path, but you're nowhere to be seen. Yet, something inside him refuses to give up.
As he nears the park at the edge of the neighborhood, he slows down, taking a breath to steady himself. His eyes sweep over the quiet space, and in that moment, itâs as if time slows... until he sees you, sitting alone on a distant bench, your figure outlined against the soft glow of the morning light, looking smaller and more vulnerable than heâs ever seen you.
He wastes no time as he runs towards you, his footsteps growing louder as he approaches you, his figure growing more defined with every step. His heart is racing, not just from the frantic search, but from the sheer desperation to be close to you again, to make sure youâre okay.
You sit still, your eyes widening in disbelief as you realize heâs found you. A rush of emotions flood through you... surprise, guilt, and a wave of regret. You can't help but wonder how he managed to find you here.
You glance down, unable to meet his gaze as the memories of last night resurface. The vulnerability of the moment hits you hard. You had fled his apartment at dawn, unable to face him after everything. The way he had held you, the way everything felt so perfect in the heat of the moment... it scared you.
You knew you had no answers to his questions, no way to explain the reasons behind your past actions. And the truth? That was something you couldnât give him, not now, not when you have so much to lose. The only thing left for you to do was leave him behind and slip away like a coward, hoping he wouldnât follow.
But here he is, standing before you, his presence too much to ignore. You don't know whether to run again or finally face him.
Jungkookâs eyes are full of pain as he steps closer to you, his voice shaking with a mix of frustration and hurt. âYou left.â he breathes out, as if the weight of his words is too much to bear.
âWhy... why did you leave?â His voice cracks at the end, vulnerability spilling through in a way he canât control.
You try to look away, but his gaze pulls you in. The truth, too raw and too close to the surface, is something you canât escape. You can feel the crack in your heart widen with every passing second. "Jungkook... we're broken up." you whisper, barely meeting his eyes.
"No." he denies, the sharpness in his breath betraying the desperation in his chest. "Don't say that, especially after last night." His voice is pleading now, fragile, cracking in a way that shakes him to the core. His fists clench at his sides with the effort to keep himself together.
"How can you say that after everything? After what happened between us? How... can you just walk away like that? How can you pretend like... none of it mattered?"
He takes a step closer, his eyes burning with a need to understand, to hold on to the fragments of what he thought was still there. "The past four months... itâs been hell, Y/n. Iâve been drowning in this silence, wondering every day what went wrong. I never got an answer. You just... left. Without a word, without a valid reason. And I hate it. I hate that I donât know why. I hate that you just cut me off like I meant nothing. Like everything we had... it was all just a lie."
You look at him, the tears unknowingly streaming down your face. "Kook..." you start, but he cuts you off. "I tried to let go... I tried to make peace with it... but... but it hurts, Y/n. It hurts more than I can put into words, and I donât even know what I did wrong." he pauses, trying to calm himself down.
"I donât know what happened between us. Why did... why did you leave me? Why did you make me feel like I was nothing to you?" His voice cracks, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over. You stare at him, the lump in your throat intensifying. "You... you were everything to me. I thought we had a future together, Y/n. But now, Iâm just... I'm just so lost.... I'm so lost without you."
Jungkook steps back for a moment, his hands running through his hair in frustration as he tries to make sense of it all. His breath is shallow, a quiet sob escaping him as he collects himself. "I need to know..." he mutters, barely audible. "Why? What... what happened? Please, just tell me."
He takes another shaky breath, the weight of his emotions almost unbearable. "Donât tell me... you stopped loving me." he pleads, his voice raw and desperate. "I know thatâs not true. I know you would never be so harsh to me." His words are laced with disbelief, as if heâs clinging to any shred of hope that thereâs something heâs missing, something he can grasp, something that makes sense.
âI can feel it, Y/n.â he continues softly, eyes never leaving yours, searching your face as if it holds the answers. âI know you love me. You canât just... stop. Not after everything we went through. Not after what we had.â He steps closer again, his heart aching at the thought of losing you. âSo donât tell me thatâs it. Donât tell me you just decided it was over.â
"I never stopped loving you." you whisper, your voice barely audible as hot tears continue to roll down your cheeks. The weight of your words feels like an anchor in your chest, heavy and suffocating. You feel weak, defeated... like thereâs no hope left.
The sight of him standing there, shivering in pain, breaks you in ways you didnât think were possible. His pain, the hurt youâve caused, fills you with an overwhelming sense of guilt.
Your heart aches as you watch the way his eyes fill with confusion and desperation, his hands trembling as he reaches out to you, as if just a touch could make everything okay. But you know, deep down, that nothing can probably fix this.
"I'm sorry." you whisper, barely able to get the words out. "I'm so sorry, Jungkook. I never wanted to hurt you." The tears flow freely now, staining your cheeks as you try to find the strength to speak, to explain, but the words feel stuck, trapped inside you.
As you break down, Jungkook takes a seat beside you as he hesitantly wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. You bury your face in his chest, the tears coming in waves, uncontrollable, as the weight of everything you've been holding in comes rushing to the surface.
His hands gently stroke your back, soothing you in a way that makes everything feel just a little more bearable. Every sob that wracks your body seems to break his heart a little more, but he doesnât pull away. Instead, he tightens his grip on you, as if reminding both of you that, for now, youâre not alone.
Jungkook feels his own tears begin to spill as he pulls you even closer, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. His fingers tremble as they weave through your hair, trying to hold you as tightly as possible, as if he could absorb some of your sorrow.
The weight of the silence between you both is suffocating, but his mind races, desperately trying to understand why youâre in so much pain, why you had to leave him, why you feel so broken.
"Y/n..." His voice cracks, raw with emotion as he speaks your name. His chest tightens with the fear that maybe heâs never truly known the full story, that maybe everything he thought he understood was just an illusion.
His tears fall freely now, as he presses his forehead against yours, his breath shaky. "Please, just tell me. What happened?" His words are barely above a whisper, but they hold a desperate plea. "Why are you like this? What... what am I missing?"
His hands move to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that continue to fall. Heâs not sure if heâs crying for the both of you or if heâs just so lost in your pain that it feels like itâs his own. "I canât lose you again, Y/n. I need to know... why we are the way we are right now. Please, just tell me. I canât fix it if I donât understand."
His grip on you tightens, the urgency in his voice rising as he gazes into your eyes, searching for some kind of answer, anything that will explain the devastation heâs feeling. His love for you is still so strong, so unyielding, but the fear of losing you completely is almost too much to bear.
Just as you're about to speak, your phone starts ringing, its shrill tone cutting through the heavy silence. You hesitate for a moment, unsure whether to pick it up, especially given the fragile state you're in right now. But the phone keeps ringing, insistent, and you feel a knot tighten in your stomach.
With a sniffle, you pull away from Jungkook, trying to compose yourself as you reach for your phone. "Just a minute..." you whisper, wiping away the last of your tears as you glance at the caller ID.
It's the hospital. Your heart skips a beat at the sight, and before you can think twice, you answer, trying to steady your voice. "Hello?"
"Am I speaking to Ms. Choi?" the voice on the other end asks. Your breath catches in your throat, and without a second thought, you stand up, your heart rate increasing with every passing second. "Yes, this is she." you reply, trying to keep your composure, but the panic is starting to rise in your chest.
Jungkook watches you intently, noticing the change in your expression as you stand up. His concern deepens as he observes the tension in your body. Who could be calling you at this hour? You grip the phone tighter as the voice on the other end continues speaking, but then you gasp, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.
He watches in horror as you suddenly collapse, your knees buckling beneath you. It's like all the strength has left your body. His instincts kick in immediately, and he's by your side in an instant, crouching down and reaching out for you.
His hands land gently on your shoulders as he pulls you towards him, trying to steady you. The phone slips from your grasp, clattering to the ground, but you donât seem to notice. Your eyes are wide, unblinking, and you stare ahead, lost in whatever news you've just received.
"Y/n... what happened? Are you okay?" Jungkook's voice is laced with worry, his hand moving to your cheek to check for any sign of awareness. You blink a few times, as if snapping back into reality, but itâs still hard to focus. Your lips tremble as you finally meet his eyes, and you whisper his name. "Jungkook..."
His heart races as he holds you tighter, desperate for you to continue. He nods, prompting you to keep talking. "Jungkook... Beomgyu... he... he woke up." you say.
"What...?" Jungkook asks, his voice laced with disbelief. His wide eyes search your face for confirmation, and when he sees the glimmer of truth in your tear-streaked expression, his features soften into a smile. "Y/n... that's... that's great news. That's... amazing news, baby." His voice wavers, a mix of relief and joy, and his smile grows wider.
You nod quickly, the reality of it hitting you all over again as fresh tears stream down your cheeks. "He's awake, Jungkook... he's really awake." you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of happiness and overwhelming emotion.
You pause, glancing around as you try to calm yourself down. "I need to go see him. I... I need to get to the... the hospital." you say hurriedly, the urgency in your tone impossible to miss.
Jungkook catches your arm gently but firmly, grounding you for a moment. "Hey, hey." he says softly, looking into your eyes with a steady calmness. "I'll take you there, yeah? My carâs parked right outside your house, so letâs go. Come on." he softly says as he helps you up.
//
You barge through the hospital doors, your steps quick and frantic, your heart racing as you navigate through the lobby. Jungkook follows close behind, his presence a comforting weight amidst the chaos swirling in your mind.
You reach the elevator and jab the button repeatedly, as though it might make the lift arrive faster. The ride up feels like an eternity, and yet, when the doors slide open, you're already bolting down the hallway towards Beomgyu's room.
Finally, you stand outside the door, your hand frozen on the handle. You take a shaky breath, trying to collect yourself, your chest rising and falling with the weight of four long years of waiting. Four years of imagining this moment, of rehearsing what youâd say, how youâd feel... but now, standing here, all those thoughts dissolve into a haze of indescribable emotion.
Jungkook steps beside you, his voice soft and steady as he whispers. "He's waiting for you, baby." His words calm you, giving you the courage you need to face whatâs on the other side of the door. You glance at him, his warm eyes filled with reassurance, and you nod, summoning the strength to push forward. With trembling hands, you carefully push the door open and step inside.
There he is. Beomgyu. Sitting up in bed, his back resting against the headboard, alive and awake. The sight is almost surreal, a moment that feels too precious to be real.
He looks at you with a lopsided grin, his expression as cheeky and familiar as ever. "Long time no see, Your Highness." he quips, his tone lighthearted and playful, as if the last four years hadn't just been wiped away by a miracle.
Your breath catches, a soft laugh escaping you as tears well up in your eyes again. "Beomgyu..." you whisper, your voice breaking. The weight of the years, the pain, the hope... all of it rushes to the surface as you step closer, overwhelmed by the reality of seeing him awake.
You rush to his side, tears streaming freely down your cheeks as you throw your arms around him in a tight embrace. The warmth of his body against yours is enough to break down every last wall you'd built over the years.
You remember all the times you'd playfully swatted him away, rolled your eyes, or made a face every time he tried to hug you because back then, you liked to act like showing affection to your sibling was embarrassing.
But right now, thereâs no hesitation, no second thought. Right now, youâve never felt more alive.
âI missed you.â you sob, your voice muffled against his shoulder as you clutch him like youâre afraid he might slip away again. The tears come harder as the realization sinks in that this moment is real. Heâs real. The long, agonizing wait is finally over.
Beomgyu chuckles softly, his voice steady yet laced with emotion. "Wow, I must really be a sight for sore eyes if youâre this clingy." he teases, though his arms wrap tightly around you, holding you just as fiercely. His familiar, playful tone only makes you cry harder.
"You idiot." you choke out, your voice trembling as you pull back just enough to look at him. Your hands cup his face, your thumbs brushing away the tears that now spill from his eyes too. "Donât you dare scare me like that ever again. Do you hear me? Never again."
His grin softens, and he nods, his own tears mirroring yours. "I promise." he whispers, his voice quieter, more solemn now. "Never again."
Jungkook lingers near the doorway, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches the reunion unfold. The raw emotion in your embrace, the way you cling to Beomgyu like he might vanish if you let go... it stirs something deep within him.
He knows how long you've waited for this moment, how often you spoke of it with a mixture of hope and pain. Seeing you finally experience it makes his heart swell with happiness for you.
But then, Jungkook freezes as Beomgyu's gaze shifts towards him. His eyes widen slightly, realizing that this is the first time Beomgyu is seeing him.
âWhoâs... that?â Beomgyu asks, his voice curious but steady. His brows furrow slightly as he nods towards Jungkook. You turn to follow Beomgyuâs gaze, and when your eyes meet Jungkookâs, you canât help but smile.
âThatâs Jungkook.â you say softly, glancing back at your brother before looking at Jungkook again. Thereâs something tender in the way you say his name, something that makes Jungkookâs smile widen as he nods politely at Beomgyu.
Before anything else can be said, the doctor appears and Jungkook steps aside letting him in. âMs. Choi.â the doctor greets with a warm smile. âCongratulations. Itâs wonderful to see Beomgyu awake and responsive. However, weâll need to run a few tests now, just to check his overall condition.â
You nod understandingly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek as you stand. âOf course... thank you, doctor.â you say, turning back to Beomgyu. You lean down to place a soft kiss on his forehead, your smile filled with a quiet reassurance. âIâll be right outside, okay?â
Beomgyu nods, his grin still cheeky. âDonât disappear. I need you to explain who that guy is and why he was looking at you with literal heart eyes.â he teases, his playful tone making you chuckle as you shake your head.
You glance at Jungkook, whoâs scratching the back of his neck, looking a little flustered. âBehave.â you tell Beomgyu with a laugh before stepping outside with Jungkook, leaving your brother in the capable hands of the doctor.
As you settle into the metal chair right outside Beomgyu's room, beside Jungkook, the cold steel pressing against your back is a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand as it gently rests on your knee. His fingers squeeze lightly, offering some silent comfort.
You glance down at the way his hand fits so naturally on you and let out a small, tired smile. Placing your hand over his, your thumb begins to trace slow circles over his knuckles, grounding yourself in the quiet rhythm of the motion.
Your voice breaks the silence, soft but weighted. "Junghyun... he came to see me."
Jungkookâs brows knit together in confusion. âJunghyun? My brother?â he repeats, his tone disbelieving as he tries to process your words. You nod, your gaze shifting to the sterile white tiles of the hospital floor.
âFour months ago... he came to the kindergarten.â you admit, your voice faltering slightly. You exhale deeply, trying to steady yourself before diving into the painful memory.
The words spill out in fragments, raw and hesitant, as you recount the confrontation with Junghyun. You describe the way he appeared out of nowhere, his presence overbearing, his threats sharp and deliberate. You tell Jungkook how he used your brother's condition against you, twisting it into a weapon, leaving you cornered and helpless.
By the time you finish, the tension in Jungkookâs body is palpable. His jaw is clenched tight, and his fists curl against his knees. His breath is sharp as he mutters through gritted teeth, âThat motherfuckerâŠâ
His reaction makes your chest tighten, a mixture of relief and guilt washing over you. Heâs angry... angrier than youâve ever seen him but you know itâs not directed at you. Itâs the thought of his brotherâs cruel manipulation, the pain you endured in silence, that has his blood boiling.
"I'll be right back." Jungkook says firmly, already standing up and walking away with purpose. Panic rises in your chest as you quickly catch up to him, already guessing where heâs headed. "Jungkook, no... wait, stop." you plead, reaching out to grab his arm.
He stops abruptly, turning to face you and holding your shoulders gently but firmly. His dark eyes lock onto yours, filled with resolve. "Y/n, just trust me." he says, his voice steady yet reassuring. "He wonât be able to do anything. Iâll make sure... Iâll make sure you and Beomgyu are safe. I promise."
You open your mouth to protest, but he shakes his head, cutting you off before the words can escape. "I need to put him in his place." he breathes out, his jaw tightening. "He needs to know he canât talk to you like that. He needs to understand what you mean to me." His voice softens slightly, the tenderness in his gaze making your heart ache.
"Just stay here with Beomgyu." he continues, his tone resolute. "Iâll be back soon. I promise."
Before you can stop him, he steps closer, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead, his touch lingering like a silent vow. Then, without another word, he turns on his heels and strides down the hallway, his determination unwavering. You stand frozen, watching him disappear, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet of the hospital.
//
Jungkook barges into his brother's home office, the door slamming against the wall with a loud bang. Junghyun glances up from his computer, a bemused expression on his face. "Oh, Jungkook? Didnât expect you to visit on a Sunday. What brings youâ"
His sentence is cut off abruptly as Jungkook strides over, grabbing his collar and yanking him to his feet. Before Junghyun can even process whatâs happening, a powerful punch lands squarely on his cheek. He stumbles back, clutching his face in shock, but Jungkook doesnât let him regain his footing.
With a growl of anger, Jungkook throws another punch, the impact snapping Junghyunâs head to the side. The metallic tang of blood fills the air as a crimson streak trickles from Junghyun's split lip.
"Jungkook!" Junghyun finally manages to shout, his voice laced with both pain and disbelief. "What the fuck are you doing?"
Jungkook doesnât respond immediately, his chest heaving as he towers over his brother. His fists clench and unclench, the anger rolling off him in waves. "Thatâs for threatening Y/n." he snarls, his voice dangerously low. "You think you can mess with her? Intimidate her like that? Not while Iâm here."
Junghyun glares at him, wiping the blood from his lip, his shock slowly giving way to a cold smirk. "So, this is about her?" he mutters, his tone mocking despite his obvious discomfort. "Youâre letting your emotions cloud your judgment, Jungkook. How pathetic."
But Jungkook doesnât flinch. Instead, he grabs Junghyun by the collar again, pulling him close. "Listen to me." he says through gritted teeth. "Stay away from her. If you ever even think about going near her or Beomgyu again, I swear, youâll regret it."
Jungkook lets go of Junghyun with a forceful shove, sending him sprawling back into his chair. "All this for a girl like her? Really Jungkook?" Junghyun scoffs, his tongue poking the inside of cheek. "You have no idea what she means to me." Jungkook says lowly, glaring at his brother.
Jungkookâs jaw tightens, his fists still clenched at his sides. His voice drops to a low, dangerous tone. "You have no idea what she means to me." he says, his glare unwavering. "And you never will."
Junghyun chuckles bitterly, his face twisted in disdain, but before he can retort, Jungkook steps closer, his presence commanding. "Do you think Dadâs going to be proud when he hears what youâve been up to?" Jungkook asks, his words sharp and deliberate.
Junghyunâs smirk falters ever so slightly. "You think heâll be okay with you going around threatening people? Manipulating them? Using fear to get your way?" Jungkook continues, his voice rising slightly. "Youâre the pathetic one, hyung."
He pauses, letting his words sink in, then laughs... a dry, humorless sound. "And you know whatâs really pathetic? That you thought I wouldnât find out. That you thought Iâd just let it slide."
Junghyunâs jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing, but he stays silent, his confidence clearly shaken. Jungkook steps back, his glare never leaving his brother. "This is your last warning. Stay away from her. Stay away from Beomgyu. Because if you donât..." He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "You wonât just have Dad to deal with. Youâll have me."
Without waiting for a response, Jungkook straightens up and strides out of the office, slamming the door behind him, leaving Junghyun to stew in his own discomfort and rising dread.
//
As you help Beomgyu inside your house, he pauses for a moment, letting his eyes wander around the familiar space. His gaze lands on the corner of the room, behind the couch, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "You still haven't gotten rid of that weird vase?" he teases, pointing at the decorative piece.
You roll your eyes, shutting the door behind you. "That's never gonna happen." you reply with a shrug, playfully glaring at him.
He shakes his head in mock disapproval before taking a seat on the couch. The cold fabric causes him to shiver slightly, but he leans back, closing his eyes. "Well... it's good to be back." he murmurs, exhaling deeply.
You stand there for a moment, watching him. Your heart feels so full it could burst. It almost seems unreal... having him here, in your home, after all this time. "Let me cook you some jjajangmyeon." you suggest, breaking the silence.
His eyes snap open, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh my god, how did you know I was craving exactly that?" he asks, his tone amused. "It's a sibling thing." you reply with a wink, heading into the kitchen.
As you start preparing the ingredients, your thoughts inevitably drift to Jungkook, especially since you haven't heard from him ever since he left you at the hospital. You canât help but wonder how heâs handling the situation with Junghyun. The thought of it makes your stomach churn slightly, but you push the anxiety aside.
"So, whereâs your little boyfriend?" Beomgyu's voice interrupts your thoughts, his teasing tone carrying from the living room. A shy smile tugs at your lips, but you donât respond immediately. "Come on..." he continues, his footsteps drawing closer until heâs leaning casually against the kitchen counter.
"I was in a damn coma for four years, and my bitchless sister finally manages to pull someone, and I donât even get a proper introduction?"
You snort at his choice of words. "Oh, come on, Gyu." you reply, turning to face him with a mock exasperated look. "Iâll introduce you when the timeâs... right." He sighs, clearly unimpressed with your answer. "The timeâs right when I say it is." he quips, but his grin betrays the affection behind the teasing.
Beomgyu arches a brow at the sudden sound of the doorbell, his smirk widening with curiosity. "Is that who I think it is?" he quips, leaning back against the counter with an air of playful arrogance.
You glance at him, wide-eyed and suddenly flustered. You smile at him briefly before you quickly make your way to the door, your heart thudding in anticipation. The moment you open it, time seems to still. There stands Jungkook, bathed in the soft glow of the porch light, his presence radiating comfort and confidence. His smile is subtle yet powerful, a silent reassurance that everything is under control.
You step outside, quietly closing the door behind you, shielding the moment from your brother's prying gaze. You fidget with your fingers as words evade you. "So...?" you finally manage, your voice trailing off.
Jungkook doesnât answer immediately. Instead, he steps forward, closing the space between you. His arms encircle you in a gentle, protective embrace, his warmth instantly melting away your apprehensions. "I punched him." he says at last, his voice tinged with triumph.
Your eyes widen in surprise, and you pull back just enough to search his face. "What?" you ask, your voice rising an octave in disbelief.
"I punched him." he repeats, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips. "Right in the face. You shouldâve seen him... completely caught off guard. Like...there's no way he actually had the nerve to mess with my girl."
A mix of shock and amusement washes over you as you lightly smack his chest. "Jungkook! Thatâs not something to be proud of." you admonish, though the corners of your mouth twitch with an unwilling smile. "Violence isnât the answer."
His smirk deepens as he tilts his head, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, but in his case, it is."
You shake your head, exhaling a laugh despite yourself. "What am I gonna do with you?" you murmur, your tone caught between exasperation and fondness.
Jungkookâs expression softens, the teasing glimmer in his eyes replaced by an intensity that makes your breath hitch. "Y/N..." he begins, his voice low and steady. "You donât have to worry anymore. Iâll take care of everything... you, Beomgyu. Youâll both be safe. I promise."
His words hit you hard, the depth of his sincerity leaving you momentarily speechless. He steps even closer, his hands gently cupping your face as his thumbs brush against your cheeks. "I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again. Not while Iâm here." he vows, his tone resolute, his gaze locking onto yours.
You nod, your chest swelling with a sense of safety you hadnât realized you were yearning for. "Just promise me..." he continues, his voice softening. "if anything ever happens again, youâll tell me. Right away. No hiding, no secrets."
A lump forms in your throat as you nod again, unable to find the words to express the gratitude and trust coursing through you. Jungkook smiles faintly, the tension easing from his features, and he pulls you into another embrace. His arms wrap around you like a fortress, his chin resting lightly atop your head.
"I missed you." you whisper, your voice muffled against his chest.
"I missed you too." he murmurs, his voice filled with emotion as he tightens his hold on you. "More than you know."
After a few long moments, you pull back, your eyes meeting his as the world seems to shrink down to just the two of you. His gaze flickers to your lips, and before you can even register it, he leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.
The kiss is tender yet fervent, each movement brimming with unspoken emotions. You feel his love, his promise, and his unwavering devotion in the way his lips meld with yours, leaving no room for doubt that this is where you belong. The porch, the cool evening air, the distant sounds of the world... all of it fades into oblivion as you lose yourself in him.
It's as if a colossal weight has finally been lifted from your shoulders, allowing you to breathe freely for the first time in what feels like forever. In this fleeting, surreal moment, the world fades away, leaving only the steady rhythm of your heart and the warmth surrounding you.
Everything about this feels inexplicably right , the way he kisses you, the way his arms embrace you, the way his presence steadies your storm. You feel complete, as though the jagged pieces of your soul have found their perfect fit. You feel whole again.
"Umm, sooo sorry to interrupt the lovebirds." Beomgyuâs voice drawls out, cutting through the tender moment. You and Jungkook both pull apart and turn your heads sharply, only to see him mischievously peeking out of the window right beside the front door. âBut, Y/n, your brother, who just got out of a coma, is really, really hungry and would love for you to finish cooking the jjajangmyeon you promised him.â
You roll your eyes, a flush creeping up your cheeks as Jungkook stifles a laugh. "And, of course..." Beomgyu continues, his grin widening. âHeâd absolutely love to finally meet your boyfriend.â He emphasizes the last word, wagging his eyebrows dramatically at Jungkook, who chuckles deeply at your brother's antics.
You groan, covering your face in Jungkookâs chest as he wraps an arm protectively around you, his shoulders shaking with laughter. âGyu, youâre unbelievable.â you mumble, your voice muffled.
Beomgyu shrugs nonchalantly. âHey, priorities, okay? Food first, making out later.â he teases, shooting a mock salute before disappearing back into the house after shutting the window down.
Jungkook looks down at you, his smile soft and amused. âI like him.â he says with a chuckle. You pull back slightly, playfully glaring at him. âDonât encourage him.â you warn, though the smile tugging at your lips betrays your amusement.
âCome on.â Jungkook says, planting a quick kiss on your forehead. âLetâs go⊠we can't have your brother starving.â he says.
You laugh, grabbing his hand as the two of you step back inside. The warmth of your house envelops you, and for the first time in forever, you feel okay.
Beomgyuâs playful voice fills the air as he grins from the couch, the sibling bond you thought youâd lost now brighter than ever. Jungkook squeezes your hand, his steady presence a reminder that the hardest days are now way behind you.
In the kitchen, surrounded by laughter and the aroma of cooking, you glance at Jungkook. His soft smile says everything words canât, filling your heart with a quiet peace.
For the first time in months, youâre not just surviving... youâre actually living. With Beomgyu back where he belongs and Jungkook by your side, your heart feels complete, wrapped in the comforting truth that this... this is what home is meant to feel like.
#jungkook fic#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook#bts#bts jungkook#bts fic#enemies to lovers#jungkook fanfiction#exes to lovers
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CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT
pairing: max verstappen x singer reader
summary: the one where she finally steps into the limelight, writes one more song about her lover and begins to move on
warning: online hate, mentions of cheating
a/n: hehe another update???? OMGGGGGGG
face claim: sabrina carpenter
f1 masterlist
main masterilst
series masterlist
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yourusername delicate out now <3
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y/nsprivate today has been a longday and i just need a nap ps. congrats oscar on p1 in your home race <3
tagged: jimmyandsassysdad
thatpolitecatoscar thank you mother
-> y/nsprivate your welcome son <3
-> jimmyandsassysdad ??
-> y/nsprivate your married to charles and im your fiance so... don't question it
keekslikestospammmm MY TIRED GORGEOUS GIRL
-> y/nsprivate I LOVE YOU
thatoneartgirlalex SO HAPPY TO HAVE YOU BACK IN THE PADDOCK đ€
-> y/nsprivate đ€đ€đ€
----------
The paddock was buzzing with its usual energy, reporters were darting around, cameras flashing, and the hum of engines in the background. But there was something else today, a shift in the air.
Y/n adjusted her sunglasses as she stepped through the gates, her head held high. Sure she had seen a few of Max's races by now but this was her first proper appearance in public since everything went down. The whispers started almost immediately, staff and fans alike craning their necks to confirm what they were seeing.
"Is that Y/n L/n?"
"She's back oh my god?"
"Why is she here?"
She ignored them, focusing instead on the task at hand. She wasnât here to make a scene. She wasnât even sure if she belonged here anymore. But fate had a funny way of disrupting plans, and that disruption came in the form of Lando Norris.
He was walking toward her, head tilted as he laughed at something his trainer had just said. But then he saw her. The laughter froze on his face, replaced by something unreadable.
âY/n,â he said, stopping dead in his tracks.
She sighed, wishing she could disappear into thin air. âLando.â
His expression shifted, a mix of confusion and something almost apologetic. âDidnât think Iâd see you here,â he said, his tone tight.
âYeah, well,â she replied, keeping her voice even, âI didnât think Iâd be back either.â
There was a beat of silence, heavy and awkward. The noise of the paddock seemed distant now, as if the world had shrunk to just the two of them.
âIts been a while, too long,â he said finally, his eyes searching hers.
She crossed her arms, her guard shooting up. âYeah, well, sometimes people need space..â
Lando smiled, almost bittersweetly. "About that... I owe you an apology, a huge one."
She glanced away, the weight of his words pressing on her chest. "Its in the past Lando, and it should stay that way, I didn't come here to argue or whatever with you." She said quietly.
âThen why are you here?â he asked, his tone almost begging.
Y/n looked up to meet his gaze, forcing herself to stand her ground. "Because it's time," She said.
Lando stared at her for a moment, his jaw clenched, before exhaling sharply. âRight. Well, welcome back, I guess.â The words were clipped, and he turned on his heel, walking away without another glance.
Y/n stood there, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched him go. She knew coming back wouldnât be easy, but she hadnât expected it to hurt the way it did.
------------
Y/n L/n: The Darkside to fame
An Exclusive Time Magazine Interview
Y/n L/n opens up about the past year, struggling with anxiety & depression, dealing with online hate and more...
CLICK HERE TO READ FULL INTERVIEW
Interviewer: Thank you so much for sitting down with us, Y/n. Itâs been a while since weâve heard from you. How are you doing?
Y/n: Honestly, better. Much better. Itâs been a tough year, but I'm moving past it.
Interviewer: A lot of fans were surprised when you deleted all your social media accounts last year. Can you talk about what led to that decision?
Y/n: Oh, absolutely. Social media can be such a toxic place, especially when youâre in the public eye. I found myself constantly comparing my life to others and reading comments that⊠werenât exactly kind. It started affecting my mental health in ways I didnât even realise at first. So, one day, I just decided to take a break. That "break" turned into completely stepping away. I needed to reconnect with myself outside of likes, comments, and curated images.
Interviewer: Was it difficult to step away, considering how much social media connects you to your fans?
Y/n: Very difficult. I love my fans, theyâve been a huge source of support for me. But I realised I couldnât pour into them or anyone else if I wasnât taking care of myself first. The funny thing is, I think stepping away has helped me foster a healthier relationship with fame overall.
Interviewer: Speaking of fame, youâve spoken before about how overwhelming it can be. Did that play a role in the struggles youâve faced?
Y/n: Definitely. Fame is⊠weird. Thereâs no handbook on how to handle it, especially when youâre young and suddenly everyone has an opinion about you. I had to learn how to reinvent myself, not in a public sense, but internally. I needed to figure out who I was outside of the noise. I'm someone who normally focuses a lot on how other people think of me, so I really had to focus on rewiring myself so I can move forward and ignore public opinions.
Interviewer: Trust seems to be a recurring theme. Youâve mentioned betrayal from friends. How did that impact you?
Y/n: It was devastating, to be honest. Thereâs nothing worse than giving someone your trust and having them break it. I wonât go into specifics, but it made me incredibly guarded for a while. Itâs hard not to question everyoneâs intentions after something like that.
Interviewer: How did you move forward from that?
Y/n: It took time. A lot of time. And I wonât lie, there are still days when I struggle with it. But Iâve learned that holding onto anger or hurt only weighs you down. You have to let it go for your own peace. Meeting new people helped, too.
Interviewer: Someone in particular, perhaps?
Y/n: [laughs softly] Maybe.
Interviewer: Care to elaborate?
Y/n: Iâll just say thisâmeeting someone who sees you for who you are, without all the labels or the baggage, is incredibly refreshing. It wasnât something I was looking for, but itâs been⊠healing, in a way.
Interviewer: That sounds wonderful. Do you feel like this new chapter in your life is helping you rediscover yourself?
Y/n: Absolutely. For the first time in a long time, I feel like Iâm living for myself, not for anyone elseâs expectations. Itâs freeing.
Interviewer: Thatâs such a powerful message, especially for your fans. What would you say to someone going through their own struggles right now?
Y/n: Iâd tell them that itâs okay to take a step back and focus on yourself. Itâs not selfish; itâs necessary. Find your people, the ones who love you unconditionally, and lean on them. And most importantly, be patient with yourself. Healing isnât an easy journey, but itâs worth it.
Interviewer: Thank you for being so open with us, Y/n. Itâs inspiring to see how far youâve come.
-----
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y/nsprivate cosy night in with my lover
tagged: jimmyandsassysdad
jimmyandsassysdad fiance actually
-> y/nsprivate hehe
-> randomfrenchguy đ€âïž
leosfather EW I NEED BLEECH
-> thatoneartgirlalex stop being a baby
thatoneartgirlalex what time you free?
-> leosfather ALEX???
--------
The room was dark, save for the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains. Y/n shifted under the blankets, her mind wandering in that hazy space between sleep and wakefulness. Beside her, Max lay sound asleep, his breathing soft and steady.
She turned slightly, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him. His face was relaxed, a peacefulness in his expression that tugged at her heart. The way the moonlight kissed his features made him look like something out of a dream.
Y/n smiled to herself, warmth blooming in her chest. She thought about everything they had been through, how heâd stood by her, quietly steady, when her world had crumbled. How he made her feel safe, loved, and seen in ways no one ever had.
Her thoughts were racing now, snippets of words and feelings swirling in her head. It was a familiar spark, the kind she knew better than to ignore. Carefully, she slipped out of bed, grabbing her phone and a notebook from the nightstand.
Padding softly into the living room, she curled up on the couch and began scribbling. The words came effortlessly, a melody forming in her mind as she wrote.
Her hand moved quickly across the page, the emotions pouring out as she thought about all the ways he made her feel protected, cherished, free.
She started humming to herself as she wrote, "I want to wear his initial on a chain round my neck, chain round my neck, Not because he owns me, but cause he really knows meâŠâ
She smiled, it felt raw and honest, a reflection of the loved they shared. She didnât stop writing until the song was finished. Once she was satisfied, she set the notebook aside and tiptoed back to the bedroom. But not before calling her producer, "Hey Adam, can we add one more song to the tracklist?"
After the finished their conversation, she slid under the covers, and nestled closer to Max, who stirred slightly but didnât wake.
As she rested her head against his chest, she whispered softly, âYou donât even know it, but youâre my muse."
---------------------
omg a triple update????????????
also btw guys pt to to death by a thousand cuts is out not (finally) and i will be publishing the masterlist for my next series so go check that one out
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#f1 fluff#f1 series#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1#f1 x reader#formula 1#max verstappen#f1 masterlist#max verstappen fic#max verstappen angst#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fluff#reputation series#repuation
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"Not A Secret Anymore"
Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader
Genre: fluff
Warnings: light teasing, use of Y/N
Words: 1.3k
Summary: Spencer Reidâs carefully hidden relationship with his girlfriend is exposed when the BAU accidentally meets her.
I always knew Spencer Reid was a man of secretsâworn-out book covers hiding chapters of untold stories. From the moment we started dating, nearly a year ago, heâd made one thing clear: our relationship needed to remain private. Not because he was ashamed, or unsure about usâhe wasnât. No, it was because of his job, his team, the life he led with the BAU.
âIâve seen what can happen to people we love,â heâd told me one night as we lay tangled together in the sheets, his voice soft but heavy with a weight I couldnât fully understand. âIf they knew about you⊠if someone used you against me, I couldnâtââ Heâd stopped mid-sentence, his throat tight with emotion. I didnât push. I knew enough to know his fears were justified.
And so, we stayed our little secret. A quiet life in the small apartment we shared, where we read books late into the night, cooked terrible meals together, and danced to old records in our socks. He loved me hereâbehind locked doors, between whispered I-love-youâs, and in stolen glances that made my heart pound.
I loved him too, so much so that I never questioned it.
But secrets donât stay secrets forever.
---
The day started like any other. Iâd woken up to find the bed empty, the scent of Spencerâs coffee lingering in the air. Heâd already left for work, as usual, leaving behind a scribbled note on the kitchen counter.
âCase came in early. Iâll call you when I can. I love you. â S.â
My heart swelled. He always did little things like that, never forgetting to remind me that I was loved, even when he was miles away chasing monsters. I kissed the note like a fool and went about my day, deciding to treat myself to a trip downtown for some shopping and a coffee.
Iâd just stepped into my favorite cafĂ© when it happened.
I noticed him before he noticed me. Spencer, standing just inside the entrance, wearing his FBI badge and a crisp suit that shouldâve made him look unapproachable, but didnât. The rest of his team flanked him, men and women I recognized only through Spencerâs stories. There was the confident Agent Morgan, the effortlessly glamorous Agent Prentiss, and the intimidating figure of Hotch. I didnât need an introduction to know who they were.
Spencer was talking to one of the baristas, probably asking questions for the case they were working. For a brief moment, I thought I might slip past him unnoticed, ducking out through the side door before he could see me. But as I turned, coffee in hand, fate had other plans.
âY/N?â
The sound of his voice froze me in place. I turned back slowly, like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar. Spencerâs wide eyes landed on mine, and I watched as a mixture of surprise, panic, and something softer flickered across his face.
âHi, Spence,â I said sheepishly, as though running into my secret FBI-agent boyfriend was the most normal thing in the world.
âWhat are you doing here?â he blurted out, his voice a little higher than usual.
âBuying coffee?â I offered, raising the cup in my hand for emphasis.
The team was watching now, their eyes bouncing between me and Spencer with obvious curiosity. Agent Morgan was the first to speak, a sly grin creeping across his face.
âWait, wait, wait. Reid, you *know* her?â
Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. He looked like a deer caught in headlights. I bit my lip, suppressing a laugh. My poor genius. Utterly out of his element.
âUm,â he started, fidgeting with his tie in that adorable way he always did when he was nervous. âThis is⊠uh⊠Y/N.â
âThat explains absolutely nothing,â Prentiss teased, crossing her arms over her chest.
I decided to help him out. âIâm Spencerâs girlfriend,â I said matter-of-factly, taking a small sip of my coffee. The room seemed to freeze.
âGirlfriend?â Morgan echoed, his grin widening. âReid, *you* have a girlfriend? Youâve been holding out on us!â
Hotch gave Spencer a look that was somewhere between amused and stern. âReid, how long has this been going on?â
Spencer swallowed hard, his face flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. Iâd never seen him so flustered. âUh⊠about a year,â he admitted, barely audible.
Prentiss whistled under her breath. âA year? Reid, are you kidding me? And weâre only just now finding out?â
Spencer looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. I took pity on him, stepping closer and slipping my hand into his. I felt his fingers relax slightly in mine, though his entire body was still tense. âHe didnât tell you because he didnât want me to get caught up in⊠well, the dangers of his job,â I explained softly, glancing up at him. âHe just wanted to keep me safe.â
His eyes met mine then, softening as he squeezed my hand. For a moment, it was like we were the only two people in the room. âI just couldnât risk anything happening to you,â he murmured, his voice low so only I could hear. âYouâre everything to me.â
My heart melted. God, I loved this man.
âYouâre not getting rid of me that easily, Spencer Reid,â I whispered back, smiling.
Morgan groaned playfully. âOkay, okay, thatâs enough of the lovey-dovey stuff. I still canât believe Reid had a girlfriend this whole time.â
âBelieve it,â I said with a smirk, leaning into Spencerâs side. âAnd Iâm not going anywhere.â
Spencer looked down at me then, his eyes shining with a mixture of affection and relief. I could see the tension leaving his shoulders, the weight of the secret finally lifted. Maybe this wasnât how heâd planned for his team to find out, but I knew it didnât matter anymore.
Because now, we didnât have to hide.
As the team ribbed Spencer and made jokes about meeting me sooner, I pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, feeling his skin burn under my lips. He shot me a look, a mixture of affection and exasperation, but he was smiling.
âYouâre never going to let me live this down, are you?â he muttered.
âNever,â I replied, grinning.
And as Spencer Reidâs team finally welcomed me into the fold, teasing him relentlessly while secretly happy that their beloved genius had found someone, he squeezed my hand and smiled at me in that way only he could.
I was his secret for a while, but now everyone knew. And as Spencer looked at me like I was his whole world, I realized that I didnât mind. Because to him, I was.
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#mgg#spencer reid x reader
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The dragon â astonishingly â was a surprise. Even in his worst nightmares there hadnât been a dragon. But the chains were too well fastened to fight and he supposed that getting eaten was at least quicker than starving to death on this damn mountain. He closed his eyes, but the thundering shake of the ground as the dragon landed was as bad as having seen the claws dig into the earth. He closed his eyes tighter.
âAre you the seventh son of the seventh son?â The voice was inhumanly low and it shook the fear in his bones loose.
âYes!â he screamed. âYes! Cursed, blighted, whatever you bloody want! Just get it over with.â
There was a short, tense silence.
âI have not come to kill you, human. I want to offer you a deal.â
His eyes opened in shock. âYou what?â
The dragon was sitting a few paces away from him, its scaly claws crossed over one another and its massive, shimmering wings folded behind its hulking back. The look in its glittering eyes was intelligent and calculating, but not unkind, certainly not threatening. It waited.
âWhatâwhat kind of deal?â he stammered, heart racing with a wild, terrified hope.
âI understand that you have been left here to die by your fellow humans, because you are an extremely rare type of human, that they are afraid of. Is that correct?â
He studied the dragonâs interested expression for any trace of sarcasm, but there was none. âThatâs one way of putting it.â
âWell then!â the dragon exclaimed. âI propose to you this: I will break your chains and save you from the humans, and in return you will join my hoard and live in my nest.â
âIâm sorry. Join yourâwhat do you mean live in a nest. Humans donât live in nests.â
The dragon gave a sideways movement of its massive head, scales glinting in the sun. âThere is plenty of room. It used to be a cavern in a mountain, of very respectable depth and dimensions, but during one of my hibernation some humans built a castle on top of it, so it is very suitable for humans.â
He was almost baffled enough to no longer be scared. Almost. âWhat happened to the people who built it?â
The dragon, somehow, managed to arch a nonexistent eyebrow. âThey live there,â it replied, slowly, as if it feared that he was rather slower on the uptake than expected. âThat was the start of my hoard, you see.â
He hadnât misheard it. It did say âhoardâ. âBut...dragons hoard gold, jewels, richesâŠâ
âUninspired amateurs,â the dragon sniffed. âAll very well for oneâs hatchling years, but honestly.â The glittering eyes squinted down at him. âDo you not want to join my hoard?â
âIâŠâ Living in a castle with a dragon for a protector sure beat being chained to a rock by feral townsfolk, there was no doubt about that. And what other choice did he have? He swallowed. âI do.â
âWonderful!â Joyful sparks snapped off the dragonâs jaw as it gracefully leapt upright. âI shall do away with those pesky chains.â And he came towards him with remarkably light steps.
âDo you live very far away?â he blurted out, nervously watching the dragon as it studied the iron rings hammered into the stone. âWill I be able toâI cannot just leave my brothers behind!â
The dragon, who had just crushed one end of the chain to warped bits of broken iron in its claw, looked up distractedly. âWhatever are you talking about? All your brothers are at my nest already. Who do you think told me where to find you?â
His heart leapt in his chest. He didnât even notice the heavy weight of the chains fall away as they slid to the ground. âYou...youâd want to keep my brothers too?â
The dragon made an indignant noise, bowing down low and motioning rather impatiently for him to climb on its back. âWhat kind of dragon do you take me for! I must have the whole set.â
#the brainfog lifted enough to write <3<3<3#dragon#dragons#can I interest you in me and my sister's agenda: dragons should hoard people#fantasy#laura drabbles#seventh son#flash fiction
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kny men saving you
Pairings: Sanemi x reader; Obanai x reader; Rengoku x reader
Word Count: 3,1k
Warnings: near death experiences but your knights in shining armor have your back hehe, pure fluff in every part, there might be some spelling mistakes here and there, my heart is in pieces bc I deleted Rengoku's part and had to re-write it and now it's bad
Sanemi Shinazugawa
The moon hangs low tonight, its pale light pooling in the dark grooves of the forest. You always loved how tender the night looks when the full moon is out, especially during summer. It dapples your path, just barely enough to see the worn trail beneath your feet. Your sandals whisper against the ground as you clutch the heavy clay jar in your arms. Itâs not far now - you know the stream is just a little farther ahead. The thought of your mother, feverish and frail in her bed, keeps you going despite the nervous twist in your stomach. You hate walking out here alone. Because even though the night looks peaceful, it certainly isnât.
Those past nights, a lot of innocent people disappeared during night. The elders talk frequently about creatures called demons who lurk out in the shelter of the dark in order to take lives. Your mother was very clear when telling you more than once that you arenât allowed to go outside when itâs dark, that you have to stay inside at all cost.
But does that include her being so sick that sheâs barely able to move? You canât just sit there and watch her suffer, right? You canât just wait for something that might never happen-
A twig snaps in the distance.
Your breath gets stuck in your throat. Itâs probably nothing - you hope itâs nothing. But the hair on the back of your neck stands on end, and the oppressive weight of the dark seems to grow heavier with each passing minute.
The stream, you remind yourself. Get the water. Get back home.
Then the smell hits you.
Itâs foul, coppery and rancid, and so wrong that your guts turn. You stumble, the clay jar nearly slipping from your grip. You freeze. Thereâs something ahead. No, someone.
But the silhouette isnât really human. Too tall. Limbs too long. The gleam of sharp teeth is the first thing you make out, the grin stretching across its distorted face.
Your legs refuse to move. The demon lunges.
A demon?
Is thisâŠwhat your mother always talked about, what everyone at the village warned you about countless times? Demons really do exist, that demon right in front of you is the ultimate prove for that.
You wonât be able to tell anyone the truth, though. Those sharp teeth that draw closer and closer, aiming for your neck. This is how youâll die. Alone in a forest like so many people before you. Tears start stinging in your eyes, your throat so tight that you canât catch breath.
Before you can even scream, thereâs a flash of silver and a roar that shakes the trees. It takes you a moment to register whatâs happening - the demon is on the ground now, twitching and headless. The stench of blood intensifies, and you realize itâs not just the demonâs. Your knees wobble.
And then heâs there.
The man who killed it, a whirlwind of pale scars and wild hair, is in front of you before you can blink. His blade gleams in the moonlight, still dripping. His eyes, sharp and livid, pin you in place.
âWhat the hell are you doing out here?!â
The force of his voice slams into you like a physical blow. You flinch, the jar slipping from your arms and shattering against the ground.
âI-I was just-â you stammer, words tumbling over each other, but he doesnât let you finish.
âDo you have a death wish?â he snaps, taking a step closer.
âAre you stupid or just suicidal? Do you know how many of those things are out here? Youâre lucky that was only one!â
Tears sting at the corners of your eyes. You canât even bring yourself to speak now, your throat tightening with every harsh word he throws at you.
Are youâŠcrying? Sanemiâs eyes narrow, mouth opening to yell again, but something shifts in his expression when he sees the tears spill down your cheeks. Fuck, how is he supposed to scream when youâre looking at him like that?
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable.
âShit,â he mutters under his breath, looking away like heâs trying to calm himself.
âShit. Stop crying.â
You hiccup, trying to stifle the sobs that threaten to bubble up. To his own surprise, he kneels down, so suddenly and close that it startles you. His hands hover awkwardly, like heâs not sure what to do with them. His voice, though still gruff, softens ever so slightly.
âHey. Iâm not gonna hurt you, alright? JustâŠstop crying already.â
You nod weakly, wiping at your face with trembling hands. He sighs again, this time more resigned.
âLook,â he grumbles, reaching out hesitantly,
âI didnât mean to scare you. But you shouldnât be out here. Not alone.â
His hand, rough and warm, settles lightly on your shoulder. Itâs surprisingly steadying, even a little bit soft. You nod again, this time more firmly.
âIâŠI was getting water. For my mother. Sheâs sick.â
He frowns at that, eyes flicking to the broken jar on the ground. For a moment, he doesnât say anything, just stares at you like heâs trying to figure you out. You were out there to get some water for your mother. How absolutely fucking stupid. But on the other sideâŠhe canât help but admire your courage the slightest bit. Given your pretty weak frame and haunted eyes, you arenât really experienced when it comes to combat. Itâs obvious that youâre nothing but an ordinary villager, a girl who just tried to save her mother without having a single clue about the shit that awaits her.
Enough of that sentimental bullshit. If he looks at you one more secondâŠ
With a rough huff, he stands and turns his back to you.
âCâmon.â
You blink, trying to understand the meaning behind his rough words.
âW-What?â
âIâm taking you back. Youâre gonna get yourself killed if I leave you out here.â
Before you can protest, he crouches slightly.
âGet on.â
âWh-What?â you stammer again, heat flooding your cheeks.
No, you canât do this. Not when heâs a stranger, not when he already saved you. He glares over his shoulder.
âDo I have to spell it out? Youâre too slow, and Iâm not dragging you the whole way. Now get on before I change my mind.â
Swallowing your nerves, you shuffle closer, hesitantly placing your hands on his shoulders. He doesnât flinch. Instead, he hooks his arms under your knees and lifts you like itâs nothing. Youâre startled by the steadiness of his grip, the surprising warmth of him despite the chill of the night. This isâŠthe first time a boy ever touched you like this.
The walk back is quiet save for the crunch of his boots against the forest floor. You cling to his haori, your earlier fear slowly ebbing away. His presence, though sharp-edged and intense, is strangely comforting now.
When you finally see the soft glow of your village lights through the trees, relief washes over you. He doesnât stop until heâs at the edge of your house, where he kneels to let you down.
âYouâre lucky I came along,â he mutters, his voice still rough but quieter now.
âNext time, think before you do something stupid.â
You nod meekly.
âThank you.â
He grunts, straightening.
âGet inside. And stay there.â
But before he turns to leave, he hesitates. His hand lingers for a moment, brushing against your shoulder again, almost absentmindedly. Then he steps back, his expression unreadable under the moonlight.
âTake care of your mom,â he says gruffly, before disappearing into the night.
Your heart feels a little fuller, even as your legs wobble carrying you inside.
Iguro Obanai
The wind howls against your ears as you step cautiously closer to the cliffâs edge, the jagged rocks below barely visible through the mist. Itâs a beautiful view - almost ethereal. You should stop here, you know you should, but something about the sheer drop pulls you in. Just a few more steps, you think. A little closer and youâll be able to see that gorgeous field of tulips your friends told you about.
The world seems quieter here, the rush of blood in your ears louder than the rustling trees behind you. You feel weightless, suspended between the earth and the empty sky. Itâs thrilling, in a way. Comforting in depressing times like these.
You donât notice the loose gravel underfoot until it shifts.
Your breath catches as your sandal slips, toes curling desperately to hold onto anything solid. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, thereâs nothing but air beneath you, and youâre falling straight towards the tulips, straight towards certain death-
Until a strong hand clamps onto your wrist and yanks you back.
The force sends you sprawling onto solid ground, your heart hammering in your chest. You barely have time to register what happened before a familiar voice cuts through the panic, sharp and laced with fury.
âWhat the hell were you thinking?â
You look up to find Obanai crouched in front of you, his mismatched eyes blazing with barely-contained anger. His hand is still gripping your wrist, tight enough that itâs almost painful, but you canât bring yourself to pull away.
âI-I didnât mean-â you stammer, but he doesnât let you finish.
âYou didnât mean what? To nearly kill yourself? To fall off a cliff like itâs nothing?â
His voice rises, each word sharper than the last.
âDo you even realize how close you were?!â
Tears well up in your eyes, hot and stinging, as his words hit you like a physical blow. You hadnât meant to be careless - it wasnât like you wanted to fall. But hearing the raw frustration in his voice, seeing the way his knuckles are white from gripping your wrist too tightly, makes you feel like youâve done something unforgivable.
âIâm sorry,â you whisper, your voice trembling.
âI didnât-â
He cuts you off again, though this time itâs not with words. He pulls you into his arms so suddenly that you barely have time to react. His embrace is firm, almost desperate, and the tension in his body makes it clear that heâs holding on more for himself than for you.
âDonât do that again,â he mutters, his voice muffled against your hair.
âDonât you ever scare me like that again.â
Your tears spill over, and you nod against his chest, your hands clutching at his haori as if letting go would send you tumbling back over the edge. Heâs warm, solid in a way that grounds you, his presence filling the air with something that feels like safety.
For a long moment, the two of you stay like that, the wind swirling around you but never quite reaching where he holds you. His hand moves to the back of your head, cradling it gently, and you feel his fingers tremble ever so slightly.
âIâm sorry,â you murmur again, your voice barely audible.
âI didnât mean to scare you.â
He sighs, the sound heavy but softer than before.
âYou didnât just scare me,â he says quietly, his voice steady now.
âYou almostââ He stops himself, shaking his head.
âJust... be more careful. Itâs not like Iâm able to be around you all the time.â
You nod, pressing closer to him. The anger in his tone has faded, replaced by something warmer, something that feels like relief. His grip loosens just enough for you to breathe, but he doesnât let go entirely.
After a while, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands settling on your shoulders. His gaze, though still stern, is no longer angry. Instead, itâs filled with something you canât quite name, a mix of worry and something softer, something more fragile.
âYouâre not allowed to scare me like that again. Â Promise me.â
âI promise,â you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.
He studies you for a moment longer, as if trying to determine whether you mean it, before nodding.
âGood.â
And then, to your surprise, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, visible through the bandages that cover his inviting lips. Itâs fleeting, gone as quickly as it came, but itâs there, and it warms you in a way that nothing else could.
âCome on. Letâs get away from the edge.â
You take his hand without hesitation, letting him pull you to your feet. His grip is steady, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary as if to reassure himself that youâre really there.
âButâŠWhy were you here in the first place?â
Obanai canât help but get lost in a wave of coughing, his cheeks turning bright pink. Maybe, just maybe because he has his eyes on you since he can remember and never misses the chance to be around you when heâs home.
âJustâŠbecauseâ, he mumbles.
And as the two of you walk back toward safety, his hand never quite lets go of yours.
Rengoku Kyojuro
The festival is alive with the hum of happy chatter and flickering lanterns, their golden glow dancing across the busy streets. The air is thick with the scent of grilled skewers and sweetened rice cakes, and laughter echoes around you like a warm embrace. You pause at a stall, admiring the delicate charms on display.
You've been in love with those annual festivals since you were young, always admiring the different stalls with all the goos from far away while wearing your best kimono out.
But today was even better with that tall stranger wearing that elegant red kimono and those beaming eyes. Even though he talked louder than everyone surrounding him, you never got tired of listening to his food advice.
Maybe you should really try the sweet potatos he mentioned earlier. You lean in closer, trying to decide between a bento box and a side of sweet potatos when a scream cuts through the noise like a blade.
Itâs sharp, raw, and sends a chill down your spine.
The joyous energy of the crowd fractures, shattering into chaos as people scatter. The street that had been so full of life mere moments ago is now a stampede of panicked footsteps. Vendors abandon their carts, children cry out for their parents, and the cheerful festival music grinds to a halt.
You hesitate, your instincts screaming at you to run, but your feet refuse to move. You canât see whatâs happening yet - the crowd is too thick - but the smell of blood is unmistakable, metallic and sickly sweet, twisting your stomach into knots.
And then you see it.
A demon emerges from the shadows, its grotesque face twisting into a wide, terrifying grin as it prowls forward. Its claws are long, sharp, and dripping with fresh blood. It locks eyes with youâa predator that has spotted its prey.
You freeze.
Youâve heard stories about demons. You know theyâre real, but knowing something and facing it are two very different things. Your legs tremble, your heart slamming against your ribs, but you canât make yourself move. Itâs as though the world has narrowed, the monster at the center, everything else falling away.
It lunges.
A blur of orange and red streaks through the air before it can reach you.
"Do not dare to touch this lady!"
The voice is booming, confident, and electrifying. The demonâs attack is intercepted, its claws clashing with a nichirin blade that burns like fire. You gasp as your rescuer appears, his haori billowing around him like flames brought to life.
Rengoku Kyojuro.
âDo not fear!â he declares, his smile broad and reassuring even as he pushes the demon back with a powerful swing of his sword.
âYou are safe now, young lady! I will not allow harm to come to you!â
He is...The stranger from before, the man with the elegant kimono!
The demon snarls, lunging again with feral speed, but Rengoku meets it head-on. His blade flashes, and sparks erupt as the demonâs claws glance off his sword. Heâs a blur of motion, his strikes precise and devastating, and yet thereâs something graceful in the way he moves, as though the fight is a choreographed dance he has perfected.
You watch, rooted to the spot, as he delivers the final blow. Flames erupt from his blade.
"Flame Breathing, Fifth Form: Flame Tiger!"
A fiery streak takes the shape of a roaring tiger, consuming the demon in one final, dazzling strike. Its body disintegrates into ash, leaving nothing behind but the acrid smell of death.
The silence that follows is almost as shocking as the chaos that preceded it.
Rengoku turns to you, lowering his sword but keeping it at the ready. His golden eyes scan your face, his expression softening into something kinder.
âAre you alright?â he asks, his voice warm, though tinged with concern.
You nod shakily, though youâre not entirely sure if youâre alright. Your knees feel like jelly, and your heart is still racing, but his presence alone feels like an anchor.
âY-Yes. I think so,â you manage to whisper.
He steps closer, his towering frame somehow not intimidating but comforting.
âYou were very brave to stay so calm,â he comments, his smile returning, this time gentler.
âBut next time, itâs best to run. Demons are relentless creatures.â
âI-I couldnât move,â you admit, shame coloring your voice.
âI froze.â
His gaze softens further, and he crouches slightly, bringing himself more to your eye level.
âThatâs natural,â he replies, his tone soothing.
âFear is not weakness. Itâs what reminds us to protect whatâs important.â
He tilts his head, his smile growing.
âBut youâre safe now, and thatâs all that matters.â
You feel tears pricking at your eyes, the overwhelming relief hitting you all at once. Before you can say anything, his warm hand gently pats the top of your head, his calloused fingers light but grounding.
âGood work holding on,â he says quietly.
âYou did well.â
Your breath hitches at the kindness in his words. He straightens then, offering you his hand.
âShall I escort you somewhere safe?â he asks, his voice as bright and steady as the flame he wields.
âThereâs no need to fear - Iâll protect you.â
You take his hand, its warmth seeping into your skin, and nod. Somehow, with him beside you, the world doesnât feel so terrifying anymore.
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Love I think geta embodies:
Selfish love- loving Geta meant giving your all to him. He belonged to Rome, to the throne, which meant you didnât have much of his heart to yourself but all Geta wanted was your love for his own. That was all he asked, he wasnât the sharing type, and thus didnât like the idea of you freely giving your attention to someone else who wasnât him. He liked having your eyes on him because at least heâll find a pair of eyes amidst the crowd that looked back at him with affection and love.
Possessive love- Geta is a possessive and powerful man. His words are law, his words are what were commanded to the masses from the gods above, testing humanity to challenge their will. So the moment he declared that you were his there was finality to his words and he expected people to know that. Geta would go all out and make sure that if people were going to ignore his words, then heâll drape you in the richest of clothes and the finest of jewellery that he could find to make sure the message got across without a hitch.
Yet it still wasnât enough to satisfy his innermost thoughts that it wasnât enough, nothing was ever enough to calm the feeling that there will always be someone whoâll have wandering eyes for you. You were his and his alone and Geta didnât take too kindly to others, especially not those who thought theyâd get away with looking at you the same way he did. He wanted to consume you whole but knew he couldnât, so he tried his hardest to make it well enough an example to those with wandering eyes will be dealt with brutally and in the most inhumane way possible.
A love that can only exist behind closed doors- geta isnât known as a gentle man -not even close- but he did try for you as you two would rest in your shared chambers with you running your fingers through his hair, nails scraping his scalp as he sunk into your embrace. The weight of the golden laurels that graced his head weighed heavy, but with you Geta found himself a lot lighter when you were nearby, a soothing balm to his soul and someone the god bless him to be the peace he so craved.
Geta was use to feeling the pressure of the throne on his shoulders, but the way that youâd trace shapes into his back seemed to magically make the ache disappear as though magic flowed through your fingertips. Heâd confide in you more than heâs ever confided in anyone else about his brother, about his ambitions, his worries and upsets that heâd fear would make him look weak; just for you to console him and give him better counsel then the senate ever had in his entire reign.
âYouâre emperor, conduit of the gods, but youâre also the human known as Geta.â You tell him softly as the night befell on you both quickly. âA human is allowed to make mistakes but an emperor is not, for an emperor to show flaws is to show the flaws of the gods themselves,â you then kissed his head as your fingers trailed his neck, âbut I want my Geta to be as human as he can be just for me if thatâs not too much to ask for.â
âWhatever my beloved wishes of me shall be granted.â He replies, equally as soft as his thumb caresses your forearm before planting several kisses there. âYour love makes me strong, uplifts me and I pray to the gods that I do the same for you, or at least try to.â You cut him off by kissing his forehead. âAnd your best is all I ask Geta, itâs all I ask of you for too much is already asked of you already.â You then continued to cuddle him close in hopes of giving him your love in another way, to make sure that he knew that he was loved should words one day fail you.
It was moments like theses where Geta was able to be human that was a rarity for all of Rome expect you, you got to see the man beneath the emperor, you got to see your Geta with the tired eyes and heavy shoulders and hands that held you with the tightness of an iron clamp. Your Geta never was soft in public but when you were alone together he was a soul in desperate need of love, of devotion and a softness that he could cal his own; and he did in the form of you.
His god given solace, his safe haven and his gift from the gods. He was yours just as much as you were his to have and hold every night.
Love I think Caracalla embodies:
Chaotic love - to have the off chance to experience a love like Caracallaâs is akin to a battlefield, one where uncertainty, death, blood and dismemberment were more common then him cradling your face with blood smeared hands as he roughly caresses your face and stares at you with wild eyes.
Heâd kill those whose hands and eyes wander equally too much for what he deemed appropriate before kissing you with the blood of those very same people coating his lips. He was chaos that took human form, threatening to consume everything within his vicinity, even yourself with how close you were to him. Yet there is a weird feeling that comes with that chaos that lures you into a false sense of security with all the lavish perks that often blinded you to the reality of position that you find yourself in.
Bloody/dark love - thereâs a lot of blood staining Caracallaâs hands. How you handle with other information, whether you despised the destruction that was inflicted by this man, or thrived off of the idea of being romantically involved with a man of such dangerous capabilities is completely up to you. Yet one thing remained the same and that was the fact that youâll have to get use to his needed for bloodshed, for violence, for anything that involved people getting hurt.
It was his fix of sorts and sooner or later youâll grow a strong enough stomach to withstand the scent of blood that will permitted your life with the emperor. Thereâs jealously, thereâs inferiority and thereâs so much more within the so called love that many would view as harsh or even cursed at times, people pitied you but wouldnât dare step in the way of an emperor who could make their lives infinitely worse without hesitation.
Doomed love - your love with Caracalla is doomed from the start. Itâs not pretty and itâs bound to break your heart one way or another. His illness was bound to take him away from you, terribly and completely to the point where heâd often have moments where heâd look at you like a stranger within your own chambers. It worsens everyday and all you could was to hold him against your chest, keeping his hand away from reaching the knife behind you as you beg him to remember you, remember your voice, anything as tears streamed down your face.
This love you had would eat you alive if you didnât end up dead first, whether it be by Caracallaâs or someone elseâs doing entirely. Heâd cling onto you obsessively, tears in his own eyes as he asks you whether your favoured him or the random servant whoâs blood still was fresh upon the floor, soaking both of your feet in a thick maroon colour. Your love with Caracalla was doomed to tears you both from skin and bone or submerge you within his madness and chaos
The love I think Marcus embodies;
Protective love - he fights with honour and your honour is one that heâll defend until the day he dies. Marcus wouldnât have you walk the streets of Rome unsafe as he was always by your side, keeping you close against him as he observes the people that brush past, with the intent of making sure no unsavoury characters will make you uncomfortable.
Marcus was more than willing to step in front of you, put his whole body on the line should he have to in order to ensure your safety from a maniac with a knife. Pushing you softly behind him as he stood before you like a brick wall, ready to defend and kill for you should he be forced to do such a thing, for there was not a bigger regret he would have within his heart then let you get hurt under his protection.
It would be a wound he would carry for the rest of his life should you ever get hurt, a physical as well as emotional wound that Marcus will use as motivation to do better by you, for if an scratch was found upon your skin he would surely feel as though he had failed as your lover and protector. He didnât care what caused the harm, it was the fact that you had gotten hurt in the process that bothered the general more than anything else. Even if you did get hurt, heâd kiss the scar to show that it was just as deserving of love and care as the rest of you were; you were still the beloved person he had married.
Soft/tender love - the man had many callouses on his hands from all the fights heâs won and conquered with effortless eases but he had always held your face with the tenderness that you were most familiar with the night he returns.
âMy love.â He often calls you with a voice that spoke of longing, of yearning and his eyes didnât hide their softness from you either, instead his eyes looked at you as though you were everything he could have imagined in his lifetime. He would also think how he was truly blessed by the gods to have been granted you in his life as he brought your hands up to his face, where he kissed each and every knuckle all the while maintaining eye contact, it was enough to make one flustered that was for certain as your stomach erupted with butterflies from his affection.
It wasnât hard to fall in love with a honourable man like Marcus, you had trouble finding something not to love about a man whoâd kiss your shoulders and back of your neck until you awake in the morning, just to see his beautiful face smiling down at you in adoration and abundance of love that were as deep as the deepest well.
#emperor geta#geta x reader#geta x you#Geta imagine#Geta imagines#emperor geta x reader#emperor geta x you#emperor geta x y/n#emperor caracalla x reader#emperor caracalla x you#emperor Caracalla imagines#emperor Caracalla imagine#caracalla x reader#caracalla x you#Caracalla imagine#Caracalla imagines#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius x you#marcus acacius x y/n#Marcus acacius imagine#Marcus acacius imagines
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Gang member Eren x Introvert black reader
Summary: In a dangerous urban landscape, y/n, an introverted Criminal Law student, finds herself drawn into the violent world of the Sixx Gang through her protective cousin, Onyankopon. When she locks eyes with Eren Yeager, a hot-headed gang member, a twisted game of desire and danger begins.
As Eren becomes obsessed with y/n, he threatens to unravel the fragile balance Ony has maintained to shield her from their brutal lifestyle. With loyalty tested and violence lurking at every turn, the lines between love and danger blur, leading to a dark climax where the heart proves just as lethal as a gun.
Genre: Dark Romance/Crime Modern au
Warnings: Graphic violence, drug use, smut, obsession
idk if i may turn this into a short multichapter fic or not.
On da lookout
Y/n wasnât one to mingle much with the people in her neighborhood. She kept to herself, except for her small circle of friends and family. Growing up in this part of town meant she knew when to stay quiet and when to speak. And lately, her routine had been simpleâwake up, go to her university classes, come home to her familyâs run-down house, and try to pretend the world outside wasnât filled with gang violence.
Today was no different.
The sun was beginning to set when y/n got back to her block. The air was thick with tension, as always. Gunshots had rung out a few blocks over just last night, and the familiar sounds of sirens still echoed in the distance.
She pushed open the creaky iron gate to her front yard, her eyes immediately landing on her cousin, Onyankopon. He was leaned back on the steps, rolling a fat blunt, talking casually with the guys posted up near the house. His presence was both a comfort and a warning. No one messed with her hereânot with Onyankopon around. Heâd been in the Sixx gang since they were kids, and over time, he became one of their heavy hitters.
But there was someone new with him today. Someone she hadnât seen before. Her eyes landed on himâEren Yeager.
Erenâs presence was undeniable. Long brown hair tucked behind his ears, diamond studs glittering in the low light, his jaw sharp and lined with a smirk that never quite left his face. Tattoos crawled up his arms, disappearing beneath his black sleeveless shirt, and the switch sitting casually on his lap sent a shiver down her spine. Not hidden. Not tucked away. Just out in the open like it was nothing, resting like a quiet threat.
They locked eyes. His green eyes, cold yet curious, seemed to see straight through her. There was something in the way he looked at her, something that made her uneasyâlike he was deciding something. Whether she was worth his time or worth the trouble.
Y/n swallowed, breaking the gaze, but her body felt frozen in place. Onyankopon mustâve noticed because he chuckled under his breath.
âDonât mind him, Erenâs good people,â Ony said, lighting the blunt with ease, his voice casual like this was any other day. âThis hereâs my cousin, y/n. Donât let her fool you. Sheâs tougher than she looks.â
Eren didnât say anything at first, his eyes lingering on her before they flicked back to the blunt in Onyankoponâs hand. He took a deep drag before exhaling, still watching her from the corner of his eye.
She could feel his attention, like the weight of a loaded gun pointed in her direction.
âSo,â Eren finally said, his voice low, raspy. âThis the cousin you were talking about? Criminal law student, right?â
Ony grinned, proud. âYeah, sheâs smart as hell. Probably the only one in the family going anywhere.â He said it like it was a joke, but there was a dark edge in his voice. He took another hit, then passed the blunt to Eren.
Eren kept staring at y/n, like he was waiting for somethingâmaybe a reaction, maybe a challenge. When she didnât say anything, his smirk widened.
âI like that,â he said, his tone dark. âQuiet. Observant.â
The tension in the air was suffocating. Y/n knew better than to show any fear. She had grown up around men like Eren. But there was something about him that was different. He wasnât just a gang member; he felt like chaos waiting to happen. The kind of danger you couldnât avoid, only hope to survive.
âWell, Iâm headed inside,â she said, trying to sound casual, though her voice felt too tight. âSee you later, Ony.â
But as she turned to leave, she could still feel Erenâs eyes on her. His stare lingered on her back, and she couldnât shake the feeling that something had just shiftedâthat her life, her quiet existence, had just been pulled into something dark, something twisted.
Y/n had barely made it halfway up the steps when Onyankoponâs voice broke through the tense silence. It was low, but she could hear the warning in it.
Next
âYo, Eren. Not her.â
She paused for a split second, her back still to them, hand gripping the doorknob. She didnât have to turn around to know Erenâs smirk had deepened, a dark, amused sound rumbling from his throat.
âWhy not?â Erenâs voice was lazy, dragging out each word like he wasnât even trying to hide the threat in it. âYou know sheâs exactly my type.â
Y/nâs heartbeat thudded in her ears, but she kept still, her grip on the knob tightening. She could feel it nowâErenâs stare. The kind of stare that made you feel like prey in a den of wolves.
âThen why even bring me around your crib, Ony?â Eren continued, voice taunting, challenging. âEspecially when we do this shit at mine?â
The weight of his words hung in the air. This shitâgang business, the kind of things y/n had tried to stay clear of her whole life. Guns, drugs, violence. The kind of life Onyankopon was waist-deep in, but she had worked hard to stay away from.
Onyankopon stood up, his broad shoulders tense, the blunt dangling from his lips as he glared at Eren. âI said no. She ainât part of that. Donât even think about it, E.â
Eren leaned back on the steps, adjusting the switch on his lap like it was just an accessory. His eyes flicked back up to y/nâs frozen form, a dangerous glint flickering in the green depths. He was still smirking, but there was something more in his gaze nowâsomething darker, more insistent.
âDoesnât look like sheâs not a part of it, man. She lives here, doesnât she?â He dragged his thumb over the barrel of the gun casually, the metallic sound making the air even heavier. âSheâs already involved just by breathing in this neighborhood.â
Onyâs jaw tightened. âSheâs family. Thatâs all she is, Eren. Stay the fuck away from her.â
Y/n could hear the tension building between them, a powder keg waiting to go off. Eren wasnât the type to take orders, not even from someone like Onyankopon. She wasnât naive. She knew what kind of guy Eren was. His name had been whispered around the block more times than she could count. Ruthless. Unpredictable. He was known for leaving bodies cold on the pavement without a second thought.
And she had just locked eyes with him. A silent invitation into a world she didnât belong in.
Why did you look at him?
Finally, she turned the knob and stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her, but her legs felt heavy. The air inside the house wasnât any easier to breathe, but at least she was out of his sight. She leaned against the door, closing her eyes, trying to shake the feeling of his gaze lingering on her like a physical weight.
But outside, the conversation was far from over.
The moment y/n closed the door behind her, she leaned against it, pressing her forehead to the cold wood. Her heart was racingânot just from the unsettling feeling Eren gave her, but from the weight of his words still lingering in the air. She couldnât shake the intensity of his gaze or the sharp way Onyankopon had shut him down.
Not her.
She had always been the one who stayed out of trouble, but in that moment, she couldnât help but feel that Onyankopon had just painted a target on her back. Eren wasnât the type to let things go, and deep down, y/n knew that the more someone told him no, the more heâd want it.
The low murmur of voices outside suddenly cut through her thoughts, and her stomach dropped. The conversation wasnât overâit was only just beginning.
She pressed her ear against the door, trying to catch every word.
âIâm telling you, E, you donât want to go there,â Onyankopon said, his voice low but firm. âNot her. Sheâs not built for this shit, man.â
Erenâs laugh was sharp, like the flick of a knife. âYou keep saying that. But Iâm starting to think itâs less about her and more about you not wanting me to touch your little cousin.â
There was a pause, the kind that stretched too long, tightening the air.
âYouâre walking a thin line, Yeager.â Onyâs voice was quieter now, edged with a warning. âYouâre gonna get both of us killed if you keep pushing like this.â
Erenâs voice dropped, the playful tone gone, replaced with something darker. âYouâve been in this game longer, Ony, but donât forget somethingâthereâs no rank when it comes to what I want. You and I both know how things work. You can play big brother all you want, but at the end of the day, the streets donât care about blood.â
Y/nâs hand tightened on the knob. She wasnât sure what was worseâthe fact that Onyankopon was trying to protect her, or that Eren was treating her like some prize to be won, a game to play. Neither felt good. Both felt dangerous.
Onyankoponâs heavy footsteps echoed outside as he paced, his frustration crackling in the air. âYou think this is a fucking joke? You think I donât know what goes on in your head?â His voice was cold now, the easygoing cousin y/n knew gone, replaced with someone more lethal. âSheâs not like the other girls you mess with. Sheâs got a future, man. Sheâs gonna be somebody.â
âAnd what? Youâre gonna protect her forever? Hide her from the world you brought her into?â Eren stepped closer, his voice mocking but eerily calm. âWe both know thatâs bullshit. Sheâs already part of this, whether you want to admit it or not.â
Y/n held her breath, heart pounding as their voices rose. Onyankopon had been trying to shield her for yearsâfrom the violence, the drugs, the blood staining the streets. But it wasnât foolproof. Being his cousin already tied her to the Sixx gang whether she liked it or not.
And now, Eren had her locked in his sights.
A dull thud outside made her stomach twist, followed by a grunt of pain. Y/nâs fingers slipped on the door handle as she scrambled to open it.
When she swung the door wide, she froze.
Onyankopon was on one knee, blood smeared across his mouth, his jaw clenched in fury. Eren stood over him, the butt of his gun in his hand, still dripping crimson. It wasnât hard enough to kill, but it was a message. An open threat.
Her cousin spat on the ground, blood staining the gravel, glaring up at Eren with murderous eyes. âYouâre outta line, Yeager.â
Eren didnât flinch. If anything, he looked more amused. His eyes flicked to y/n, who stood frozen in the doorway, and he wiped the blood off the butt of his gun on his black pants like it was nothing. His smile curled at the edges, cold and twisted, sending a chill down her spine.
âI donât follow rules, Ony,â he said, voice low. âEspecially not yours. If I want something, I take it.â
He didnât say her name, but y/n could feel the weight of the unspoken threat settle over her. His eyes hadnât left her since she opened the door. The pull of him was dark and magnetic, and the longer she stood there, the more she realized he was waiting for her reaction.
Onyankoponâs heavy footsteps echoed outside as he paced, his frustration crackling in the air.
âYou want a future, sweetheart?â Eren asked, his voice deceptively soft, the barrel of the switch pointed lazily at the ground. âYou think going to school is gonna save you from all this?â He motioned to the street, the graffiti-stained walls, the gang members watching from nearby corners. âYouâre already part of it. Youâve been part of it since the day you were born.â
Y/nâs throat tightened. She wanted to speak, to deny it, but she knew Eren was right. No matter how hard she tried to stay out of the life, it had a way of pulling her back in.
Onyankopon stepped in front of her, blocking Erenâs view, his body tense with fury. âI told you, Yeager. Stay the fuck away from her.â
But Erenâs smile only widened. He wasnât scared of Onyankoponânot in the slightest.
âAnd I told you,â Eren whispered, his voice laced with dark amusement, âI donât take orders.â
The sound of an engine roared down the street, tires screeching as another gang member pulled up in a black SUV. The door flung open, and one of the guysâhard face, tattooed hands gripping an ARâstepped out. His eyes swept over Ony on the ground, then landed on Eren.
âGet the fuck up, Ony,â the guy barked, impatience dripping from his voice. âWe got shit to do. Right now.â
Y/nâs pulse spiked, panic welling in her chest. She watched as Onyankopon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, spitting blood onto the sidewalk before rising to his feet. The way he stood was almost casual, the fury from moments ago buried under years of experience. He looked like heâd been through worse.
But as he stood up, his eyes softened when they landed on y/n.
Without a word, Ony reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. He flipped it open, tugging out a wad of cash, and shoved it into her hands. âGo study,â he muttered, his tone layered with both worry and regret.
Before she could respond, Eren laughed low, a sound that made her stomach knot. âYouâre smart, y/n. Real smart. Criminal law, right? Maybe you can defend yourself when all of this falls apart.â
âShut the fuck up, E,â Ony snapped, his face bruised but his rage undimmed. âYou donât know what youâre messing with.â
But Eren ignored him, stepping closer to y/n, his gaze locked on hers. He wasnât just a threat; he was chaos in human form.
His eyes lingered on her a beat longer before he turned, strolling over to the SUV, calm as ever, sliding in without a care. The SUV sped off, leaving a cloud of dust and the weight of a silent promise hanging in the air.
Onyankopon turned to y/n, his eyes dark with frustration and something elseâfear.
âThis isnât good,â he muttered, wiping the blood from his face. âYou need to stay away from him, y/n. Heâs bad news. Real bad.â
Y/n swallowed, her throat tight. She nodded, but the sinking feeling in her chest told her it wouldnât be that easy. Not with Eren.
Because in a place like this, no one stayed out of the life. And now that Eren had her in his sights, she wasnât sure she could ever escape.
Eren's pov
The rumble of the SUVâs engine was a low growl beneath Erenâs feet as he sat in the backseat, one arm draped lazily over the headrest, his fingers idly tapping against the cool leather. The streets outside passed in a blur of darkened buildings and graffiti-streaked walls, the city falling into the kind of quiet that only came when the sun dipped below the horizon. But Eren wasnât quiet.
His mind was alive.
Y/nâs wide eyes as she stood in the doorway. The way her breath caught in her throat when she looked at him, when she realized what kind of man he was. It was intoxicating.
He could still feel the electricity crackling between them, the way she froze under his gaze. There was something fragile about herâdelicate, soft. And Eren had always been drawn to the idea of breaking fragile things.
A smirk tugged at his lips.
âI swear, you got a death wish, man.â Onyankoponâs voice broke through his thoughts, rough and laced with warning, but there was something else in there too. A note of frustration. Like he knew Eren was spiraling, and there wasnât a damn thing he could do about it.
Eren turned his head slightly, his green eyes catching Onyâs in the rearview mirror. âYouâre still pissed about earlier, huh?â
Ony wiped the dried blood from the corner of his mouth, the remnants of the blow Eren had landed earlier. âI told you not to fuck around with my cousin, and what do you do? You go ahead and push my buttons.â He laughed, low and humorless. âYou always gotta push shit, E.â
Eren shrugged, his eyes drifting back to the window. The city was a wasteland of broken lives, and heâd been living in it too long to care about anyone elseâs rules. âMaybe if you werenât so protective, I wouldnât be so interested.â
Ony clicked his tongue, shaking his head, but before he could respond, Connie, the driver, spoke up from the front seat. âFocus up, boys. We got business to handle.â
Erenâs smirk widened. He already knew what was coming. Tonight wasnât just about the usual shitâdealing, collecting, or shaking down some lowlife who couldnât pay. Tonight was blood.
Connie turned the wheel sharply, veering off onto a side street lined with abandoned warehouses, the kind of place where the police didnât bother showing up. The kind of place where men like them thrived. The car slowed as they approached a run-down building, its windows shattered, and the stench of decay hanging in the air.
âTargetâs inside,â Connie said, voice cold and steady. âOne of the boys who snitched to the feds about our drop last month. Boss wants him gone.â
Erenâs heart began to thump harder, not with fear or nerves, but with excitement. His hand drifted to his waistband, fingers curling around the cold grip of his Glock. He had no love for snitches, but that wasnât the only reason he was eager. There was something elseâa hunger deep inside, a need to watch the light drain from someoneâs eyes.
Onyankopon sighed, checking the clip in his own gun. âThis shitâs getting out of hand. Boss wants us to make an example, but itâs getting too hot.â
Eren leaned forward, voice a low murmur. âYou scared, Ony? You didnât seem too worried earlier when I had you bleeding on the sidewalk.â
Onyâs eyes darkened, but he kept his cool, tapping the side of his gun. âShut the fuck up, Eren. Weâre not doing this here.â
Connie pulled the SUV to a stop, turning to the backseat. âBoth of you, lock in. We go in quiet, no witnesses. In and out.â
Erenâs fingers tightened around his Glock, the weight of it grounding him. He glanced over at Ony, who still looked irritated but focused, then back at Connie, who was already stepping out of the SUV, gun in hand. They moved as oneâpredators stalking through the shadows.
The warehouse loomed ahead, its rusted door creaking as they slipped inside. The stench of mold and stale air hit Erenâs nose, but it didnât bother him. His senses were sharp, attuned to the thrill of the hunt. Somewhere in the darkness, the snitch was hiding, probably thinking he had a chance.
He didnât.
They moved silently through the maze of rotting crates and debris, their footsteps barely a whisper on the concrete floor. Erenâs heart raced, adrenaline pumping through his veins as they approached the back of the building, where the snitch was supposed to be hiding out. The faint flicker of a cigarette gave him awayâhe was sitting near a window, completely unaware of what was coming for him.
Connie gave the signalâa nodâand Onyankopon was the first to move, stepping out of the shadows with his gun raised.
The snitchâs eyes widened, his cigarette falling from his mouth as panic set in. âWait! Wait, I can explainââ
The shot was deafening in the enclosed space, and blood sprayed the wall as the bullet tore through his chest. But Ony wasnât done. He stepped closer, his face emotionless as he fired again, this time aiming for the snitchâs knee. The man screamed, collapsing to the ground, clutching his leg as blood pooled beneath him.
âPlease, man, I didnât mean toââ
Eren stepped forward now, crouching down next to the writhing man, his smile twisted and cruel. âYou know what I hate about snitches?â he said, voice almost a whisper. âThey never learn.â
Without a second thought, Eren pressed the barrel of his gun against the manâs temple and pulled the trigger. The body went limp, blood and brain matter splattering the concrete floor in a gruesome mess.
Eren stood, wiping his hand on his pants, as if it was just another day at work. Beside him, Ony holstered his gun, looking down at the body with a disgusted expression. âYou didnât need to go that far.â
Eren shrugged, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. âI did what needed to be done.â
Connie stepped forward, glancing at the corpse before looking at the two of them. âWe leave him here. Message sent.â
As they made their way back to the SUV, Erenâs mind drifted back to y/n. There was something about herâsomething that gnawed at the back of his mind. She was different from the others, different from the life he led. But that just made him want her more.
He climbed into the backseat of the SUV, leaning back as Connie started the engine and pulled away from the warehouse, the smell of blood still lingering in the air.
The night dragged on as they drove through the city, the weight of their brutal job hanging heavy in the SUV. The blood and violence were already starting to fade from Erenâs mind as they approached the boss's place. He was thinking about y/n again, her quiet intensity, the way sheâd looked at himâhow easily she could be broken.
But before he could entertain those thoughts for too long, they pulled up in front of the nondescript warehouse, the hideout of their boss, Levi Ackerman.
The place looked run-down, like a hundred other abandoned buildings in the city, but everyone in their world knew what happened behind those walls. Levi was a legend, small in stature but ruthless, and when you walked into his space, you left your ego at the doorâor you didnât leave at all.
The SUVâs engine cut off, and the three of them stepped out. Connie gave a nod toward the side entrance, leading the way inside. The inside of the warehouse was dimly lit, the air thick with cigarette smoke and the smell of whiskey.
Men were scattered around, either counting cash, cleaning guns, or lounging with drinks, but all eyes turned toward them as they entered.
Levi was sitting at a large wooden table near the back, going over some papers with an expression as cold and calculating as ever. His piercing gray eyes flicked up when he saw them approach, his brow furrowing as he noticed Onyankoponâs busted lip.
âJobâs done,â Connie said, cutting straight to the point.
Levi didnât acknowledge him right away. Instead, his gaze stayed on Ony, eyes narrowing. âOnyankopon,â he said, his voice low but commanding. âWhat the hell happened to your lip?â
The room went quiet. Eren leaned back against a wall, arms crossed, watching with mild amusement. Ony stayed silent for a moment, his jaw tight, but the tension was palpable. Levi was the kind of man you didnât ignore.
âI asked you a question,â Levi said again, his voice colder now. âWho got the jump on you? That ainât like you. Youâve been out here long enough not to get sloppy.â
Ony shifted on his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. âItâs nothing, boss,â he muttered. âFamily business. Nothing from the streets.â
Leviâs eyes narrowed even further, his suspicions obvious, but before he could press Ony further, Eren let out a low, dark chuckle. It was a sound filled with menace, the kind of laugh that wasnât about humor, but something more twisted.
Leviâs gaze snapped toward Eren like a whip, cold and sharp. âThe fuck is so funny, Yeager?â
Eren straightened up from the wall, that smirk still playing on his lips as he met Leviâs gaze. âNothing, boss. Just⊠family business, like Ony said.â His tone was dripping with sarcasm, but it was more than that. It was a challenge, thinly veiled.
Levi wasnât a man to play games. He leaned back in his chair, eyes still locked on Eren. âIs that right? You two got something you need to tell me?â
Ony clenched his fists, glancing toward Eren, but didnât say a word. Levi was the kind of man who demanded respect, and Eren wasnât exactly known for holding his tongue. This was dangerous territory.
âNah,â Eren finally said, his voice more controlled now, the smirk fading from his face. âJust a little misunderstanding, boss. Ainât got nothinâ to do with the streets.â
Leviâs gaze flicked between them, his eyes hard as stone, trying to piece together the puzzle. He knew something was off, but he also knew when to push and when to let things lie.
âFine,â Levi said, voice clipped. âBut if this âfamily businessâ spills into my streets, Iâll make sure both of you deal with it. Permanently.â
Ony nodded stiffly, the tension still thick between him and Eren. Levi turned his attention back to the papers on his table, seemingly satisfied for now. âNow, about the job. Connie, give me the details. I wanna know how Rick squealed before he bled out.â
Erenâs mind drifted slightly as Connie began explaining the gruesome details of the hit. He wasnât concerned about Leviâs warnings. He knew Levi didnât trust him, but that didnât matter. What mattered was power, and right now, Eren had plenty of it.
But his thoughts kept pulling back to y/n, her innocence in the middle of this dark, twisted world. Heâd seen the way Ony looked at her, how protective he was, and it only made Eren more determined. If Ony was willing to break his cool just to keep her out of Erenâs reach, that only made her more tempting.
Levi interrupted his thoughts again. âOny,â he said, not even looking up. âMake sure your âfamilyâ doesnât cause any more distractions. We need focus now more than ever.â
Ony nodded, still tight-lipped, and Eren caught the way his jaw flexed when Levi said âfamily.â It was a warningâand Eren wasnât going to ignore it.
The conversation shifted back to business as Levi went over their next moves, laying out the plans for upcoming turf grabs and smuggling runs.
But Erenâs mind was elsewhere, scheming. He was patient. He knew how to play the long game. And sooner or later, y/n would be his, no matter how hard Ony tried to protect her.
As the meeting wrapped up, Levi dismissed them with a wave of his hand. âGet the fuck out. Weâve got work to do tomorrow.â
Eren didnât need to be told twice. He pushed off the wall, following Ony and Connie out of the warehouse, the cold night air biting at his skin as they stepped outside.
âYou got something to say?â Ony asked under his breath as they walked back to the SUV, his eyes cutting toward Eren.
Eren glanced at him, a smirk tugging at his lips again. âNot a thing, Ony. Like you said, itâs just family business.â
Onyâs eyes darkened, but he didnât respond. They both knew this was far from over.
Levi had barely dismissed them when Eren was already lighting up a cigarette, leaning against the side of the SUV. The sharp flick of his lighter echoed in the quiet night air, the cherry-red glow illuminating his sharp features.
His mind was still buzzing from the mission, the blood on his hands, and the thrill of violence. But most of all, it buzzed with thoughts of y/n.
Connie, always the mediator, shot a glance toward Eren before pulling Ony aside, his voice low. âYo,â he muttered, his tone more serious than usual. âWe gotta talk.â
Onyâs brows furrowed as he wiped the last remnants of blood from his busted lip, annoyed but calm. He didnât need to ask what was on Connieâs mind; he already knew.
âThis about y/n?â Ony asked, his voice rough, cutting straight to the point.
Connie nodded, his voice hushed so Eren wouldnât overhear. âYou know E isnât gonna let up on her. You saw how he was lookinâ at her earlier, bro. You really think heâs just gonna forget about her?â
Ony clenched his jaw, his fist tightening at his sides. âY/n is one of the only good ones in my family, man. Sheâs like a sister to me. She didnât ask for this life, didnât ask for none of it. I stay out here doing this shitâday in, day outâso she doesnât have to want for nothing. So she can get her degree, move up outta this neighbourhood. I ainât about to let Eren fuck on her just âcause she his âtype.ââ
Connieâs face was grim as he leaned against the wall, glancing over at Eren, who was puffing away on his cigarette like he didnât have a care in the world. âfuck outta here with that shit, right? But E, man⊠you know how he is. When he wants something, heâll burn the whole damn world down to get it.â
Onyâs face darkened, his protective instincts flaring up even harder. He knew exactly what Connie meant. Eren wasnât just some street punk whoâd get bored and move on. He was relentless, obsessive. And y/n? She was innocent, untouched by this world they lived inâexactly the kind of thing Eren craved.
Ony scrubbed a hand over his face, frustrated. âI ainât letting that happen, Connie. Y/n deserves better than this shit, better than Eren. Sheâs got her head on straight, studying, making moves to get outta here. The last thing she needs is him dragging her down.â
Connie glanced over his shoulder at Eren, who was still smoking, his eyes narrowed and distant, like he wasnât really paying attention to the conversation. But Connie knew better. Eren was always listening, always watching.
âMaybe talk to Levi about it?â Connie suggested, though he sounded unsure. âErenâs a problem, but Levi might be able to control him if you lay it all out.â
Ony shook his head. âNah. I ainât pulling Levi into this. Last thing I need is the boss thinking I canât handle my own family business. Besides, if I bring this to him, it puts a target on y/nâs back. I donât want her dragged into gang shit more than she already is.â
Connie nodded in agreement. âSo, whatâs the plan then? You just gonna keep Eren away? You know heâs not the type to back off.â
Onyâs fists clenched, his knuckles going white as he fought to keep his anger in check. âIâll figure it out. But Iâm telling you now, Connie, if Eren tries to lay hands on y/n⊠I donât give a fuck about his rank. Iâll handle him.â
Connie gave Ony a hard look, knowing the weight of those words. Eren wasnât just some guy in their crewâhe was dangerous, a killer through and through. But family was family, and for Ony, y/n was sacred. She was the only pure thing left in his life, and he wasnât about to let Eren corrupt that.
âAlright, bro,â Connie muttered, patting Ony on the back. âBut you better be ready. Eren donât quit.â
Ony nodded, his face set in stone. âNeither do I.â
Across the lot, Eren flicked his cigarette to the ground, crushing it under the heel of his boot. He saw the way Ony and Connie huddled together, the serious look on Onyâs face. He could guess what they were talking about, and it only amused him. They thought they could stop him, keep y/n out of his reach.
But Eren didnât play by their rules. And when he wanted something, he got it.
He knew Ony was protective of y/nâhell, that was half the fun. She wasnât like the other girls he toyed with, girls who were already halfway to being broken. No, y/n was different, untouched by the darkness of their world. And that made her the perfect prize.
As Eren climbed back into the SUV, his smirk returned. He could be patient. He could wait.
Because sooner or later, y/n would be his.
And nothingânot Ony, not Levi, not even the whole damn gangâcould stop him.
Next
#aot x black reader#onyankopon x reader#aot onyankopon#eren yeager#eren aot#eren x y/n#eren x you#eren smut#eren jaeger#eren jeager x reader#eren fluff#eren jeager smut#eren x reader#attack on titan eren#aot x you#aot x reader#aot fanfiction#sherewrytes
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homesick â k. bakugou
a/n: to everyone going through a season of change, no matter how big or small, i love you :')
katsuki does a lot of stupidly annoying things sometimes, but one thing he will never, ever, do, is make fun of you for being homesick. he might joke around at first, but the moment he noticed you going silent and getting too lost in your own head, he makes a mental note to keep his mouth shut. he doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't say anything for fear of making things worse for you. he just lays down beside you, holding you up a bit and letting you cry as much as you need to. he doesn't care if you soak his shirtâit's you, for crying out loud. "it's just some damn fabric, it'll dry."
afterwards, he's doing everything he can to distract from the loneliness you may be feeling. he's grabbing a weighted blanket, arranging it so that most of the comfortable heaviness lays on you just right. he's getting you some water, making sure you get the rehydration you need so that you don't end up with a headache. "i don't wanna hear you complainin' later," he carefully teases with a small smile, glad to see you faintly return it. he's moving back into bed with you, resting comfortably at your side, a silent reminder that he's here. you're not alone like your mind is trying to convince you.
when he feels like the floor is open again, he's trying to bring back that smile. he's reminding you of all the good reasons for this change, the goals he knows you have and are capable of accomplishing. in his own katsuki-bakugou way he's trying to get you to focus on the positive side of things, something that you're usually doing to him. but he's willing to switch roles, because if there's one thing that makes him feel more helpless than anything else in this world, it's seeing the people he loves upset.
the feeling of homesickness can be hard, that he knows. it's a that feeling like your heart is squeezing in your chest and you can't stop it, and he's not gonna pretend like he hasn't felt it before. but at the end of the day,âand as cheesy as he knows it would sound coming out of his mouthâyou've both got each other. he's not the biggest fan of change either, but he'd gladly go through a thousand different lives with you. he vows right then and there to make as much of a home for you as possible, whatever it looks like. he knows he can't make the uncomfortable feelings go away, but if he can loosen the painful tightening in your chest just a little, he'll do whatever it takes to see you smile again.
katsu2ji © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.
#â.Ë s writes!#â mha!#i used a lot of em dashes in this one my apologies </3#it's a tad bit late.#this is perhaps extremely extremely ooc extremely extremely cheesy however.#this is me coping#it's a little rough out here#but it's okay!!! we'll be okay!!!#katsuki bakugo#katsuki bakugou#bakugo x reader#bakugou imagine#bakugo fluff#bakugo katsuki#bnha#mha#mha x reader#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou#bakugou x reader#bnha x reader#boku no hero academia#mha fluff#my hero academia#katsuki x reader
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i love you, in every time àżâ§â 1880 - labyrinth of my heart
chapter summary: When walking the streets of Chicago he spots you across the street, so real, so alive. Logan takes this as a second chance; but fear slowly slithers up, making him wonder if he'll lose you all over again.
word count: 9.3k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: first, i want to say thank you so much for the support and love for this series! this is way shorter than the first chapter, only because i wanted the ending to feel abrupt to hopefully make it feel more realistic. anyways, i'm super excited for next chapter since it's a concept i haven't ever really done before. but for now, enjoy this while it lasts :)
warnings/tags: fluff, angst, outdated mindsets on women, character death
series masterlist - chapter 1 â chapter 3
Logan left New York City after you died, going back to Victor who told him exactly what he expected to hear, âyou shouldnât have fallen in love,â and âthe only people we can trust is each otherâ.
The Civil War had begun seven years after your death as he and Victor fought for the North for four whole years. There was one thing he always kept with him, the ring he bought for you, that he never got to use. It stayed in his pocket at all times, never leaving, always there.
He had been doing the same thing he was doing before he met you, moving around the country, never staying in a spot for too long, doing odd jobs to stay afloat.
Logan found himself in Chicago, walking along the sidewalk, the faint sound of a train in the distance. The air was heavy with the scent of coal smoke, the city bustling with life in the late afternoon. Men in long coats and women in modest dresses hurried past him, some tipping their hats in his direction as he walked by. It was just another city to him, another place he would pass through on his way to nowhere in particular.
It had been 26 years since you died. Twenty-six long years, but to Logan, it still felt like yesterday. The weight of your loss hadnât lessened. If anything, it had only grown heavier. Every town, every face he saw, reminded him of you in some way. That soft smile you always wore, the way youâd brush your hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought. He kept your memory alive in the smallest of ways. The ring heâd never had the chance to give you stayed in his pocket, its presence a constant, painful reminder.
He walked without a destination, his mind lost in the past as his feet carried him down the streets of Chicago. The city had a pulse of its own, far different from the quiet life in New York where youâd once lived, where you had died in his arms. He hadn't felt truly alive since thenâjust going through the motions of life, the decades slipping by as if time itself didnât matter.
As Logan neared a small schoolhouse, something caught his eye. A group of children were gathered outside, their laughter echoing through the street as they played. But it wasnât the children that caused Logan to stop. It was the woman standing among them, her smile bright as she helped one of the younger boys tie his shoe. The world around him seemed to blur, fading away as his gaze locked onto her.
It was you.
Loganâs heart stilled in his chest. He blinked, sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but there you were, the same face, the same gentle presence. You looked exactly as you had all those years agoâmaybe a little younger, maybe a little different, but unmistakably you.
For a moment, he couldnât move. He just stood there, watching you laugh with the children, completely unaware of his presence. His mind struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. You were dead. He had been there. He had held you as you took your last breath, felt the life leave your body. And yet, here you were, as if the last 26 years had never happened.
Loganâs feet moved on their own, pulling him closer to the schoolyard. His heart pounded in his chest, his throat dry. His mind raced with a thousand questions. How could this be? Was it some kind of dream? A cruel trick?
But the closer he got, the more real you became. You were wearing a simple dress, your hair tied up in a way he hadnât seen before, and yet everything about you felt so familiar. The way you carried yourself, the warmth in your eyes as you spoke to the childrenâit was all you.
âExcuse me, miss,â he called out, his voice rougher than he intended.
You turned at the sound of his voice, your eyes meeting his for the first time, and Logan felt his heart lurch. It was like being thrown back in timeâlike the years between this moment and the day you died had vanished. You looked at him with a polite curiosity, but there was no recognition in your eyes. No flicker of memory. To you, he was just a stranger.
âYes, can I help you?â you asked, your voice soft, kind.
Loganâs breath caught in his throat. He didnât know what to say. How could he possibly explain what was running through his mind? How could he tell you that he had loved you, that he had lost you, and that nowâsomehowâyou were standing in front of him again?
âI... I thought I knew you,â he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. He didnât trust himself to say more. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the ring in his pocket suddenly feeling heavier than ever.
You smiled, but it was the smile of someone trying to be polite, not of someone who knew him. âI donât think weâve met before,â you said. âIâm Y/N. Iâm the schoolteacher here.â
Logan swallowed hard. Of course, you wouldnât remember. You had no idea who he was, no memory of the life youâd lived before. To you, this was just another day, another moment. But to Logan, it was everything. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. You were here, alive again, but you werenât his Y/N. Not yet, anyway.
âIâm Logan,â he finally managed, his voice thick with emotion he couldnât hide. He couldnât take his eyes off you, his heart aching in a way that felt both familiar and new.
You nodded, offering another warm smile. âItâs nice to meet you, Logan. Was there something you needed?â
Logan shook his head slowly, still reeling from the shock of seeing you again. âNo,â he said quietly. âNo, I... I just thought you looked like someone I used to know.â
You tilted your head slightly, a curious look in your eyes. âI get that sometimes. Chicagoâs a big city, but it can feel small.â
Logan nodded, though his mind was far from this moment. He couldnât tear his gaze away from you, couldnât shake the feeling that this was some kind of miracleâa second chance. But what could he do with it? Could he approach you, tell you everything? Or would that only drive you away?
Before he could say anything more, the school bell rang, and the children started to gather their things. You glanced back at the sound, then looked at him with an apologetic smile. âIâm sorry, I have to get back to my class. But maybe Iâll see you around?â
Logan nodded, his throat too tight to respond with words. He watched as you turned and walked back toward the schoolhouse, his heart aching with the weight of all the things he couldnât say.
For the first time in 26 years, Logan felt hope stir in his chest. You were here. You were alive. And even if you didnât remember him, even if you didnât know who he was... he couldnât walk away. Not this time.
---
Logan stayed near the schoolyard most afternoons, hidden just enough not to draw attention, watching you from a distance. It felt strange, almost painful, standing there, knowing you had no idea who he was. Every time you emerged from the schoolhouse with Ida, another schoolteacher, chatting and laughing, the urge to approach you tugged at him. But fear held him backâfear that youâd think he was insane, or worse, that youâd reject him outright.
He clenched his fists inside his coat pockets, feeling the cool metal of the ring press against his palm. It had been with him through wars, across states, through lifetimes. And now, here you were, alive again, and he still didnât know what to do with it.
It was absurd, the way his heart raced just from seeing you walk down the street. How after all these yearsâafter so much painâhope could sneak its way back in. This wasnât just a coincidence. It couldnât be. Logan wasnât the type to believe in magic or miracles, but what else could explain this?
As he lingered, the school bell rang, signaling the end of another day. Children poured out of the building, laughing and running. A few hung on your arms as you walked them down the steps, their chatter filling the air.
Logan shifted from foot to foot, nerves prickling along his spine. Just talk to her, idiot. Youâve been through worse.
But when you stepped into the street, Ida at your side as usual, the words died in his throat.
âY/N, you coming for dinner at my place tonight?â Ida asked, tucking a stray curl beneath her bonnet.
You smiled, brushing your hands on your skirts. âCanât tonight, but Iâll stop by tomorrow. The kids wore me out today.â
Ida chuckled. âYouâll turn into an old maid before youâre thirty at this rate.â
You rolled your eyes, but your laugh was warm. Logan felt the sound of it settle deep in his chestâlike an old memory coming back to life. It was a laugh he hadnât heard in 26 years, and it took everything in him not to run to you right then and there.
As you and Ida turned the corner toward the tenement, Logan followed at a distance. His heart hammered against his ribs. He just needed a moment, a chance to say somethingâanything.
Finally, the two of you paused outside the building. Ida gave you a quick hug before heading upstairs, leaving you alone on the stoop. You stood there for a moment, adjusting your shawl against the evening chill.
This is it. Now or never.
Logan forced his feet to move, crossing the street toward you.
You looked up as he approached, a little surprised but not alarmed. âLogan, wasnât it?â
His throat felt tight, but he gave a short nod. âYeah. Logan.â
You smiled softly, the same kind smile that had haunted his dreams. âWhat brings you by?â
He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. âI... Iâve been meaning to talk to you.â
Your brow furrowed slightly, but there was no fear, only curiosity. âAbout what?â
Logan shifted his weight, his hands tightening around the edges of his coat. The ring in his pocket seemed to burn against his skin, a reminder of everything unsaid.
âI... You remind me of someone,â he admitted, voice low. âSomeone I lost a long time ago.â
You studied him for a moment, your gaze steady but gentle. âIâm sorry,â you said quietly. âThat mustâve been hard.â
Loganâs jaw clenched. âYeah,â he muttered. âIt was.â
There was a beat of silence between youâheavy, charged with the weight of all the things Logan couldnât say. You didnât know him, didnât know what youâd meant to him in another life, but standing here, so close to you again, it felt like the world had tilted back into place.
âYou... wanna walk for a bit?â Logan asked suddenly, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.
You hesitated, but only for a moment. Something in his expression mustâve stirred your kindness, because you nodded. âAlright.â
The two of you started down the sidewalk together, the city humming around you. Logan kept his hands stuffed in his pockets, fingers brushing the ring again and again like a talisman.
âSo, how long have you been in Chicago?â you asked, glancing over at him.
Logan shrugged. âNot long. Just passing through.â
You gave a small smile. âItâs a good place to get lost in for a while.â
He huffed a quiet laugh. âYeah. Guess so.â
The conversation fell into a comfortable rhythm after thatâsmall talk, nothing too deep. Logan told you bits and pieces about his travels, careful not to reveal too much. He learned that youâd moved to Chicago a couple of years ago, taking the teaching job because it felt right.
âIâve always liked working with kids,â you said with a soft smile. âThereâs something... hopeful about it, you know?â
Logan nodded, though hope had been a foreign concept to him for a long time. But walking beside you now, listening to your voice, he felt something stir in himâa flicker of warmth he thought heâd lost forever.
As the evening deepened and the sky turned a dusky purple, you reached your building again. You stopped on the stoop, turning to face him.
âThank you for the walk,â you said, your smile gentle. âIt was nice.â
Logan nodded, his heart heavy with everything he wanted to say but couldnât. âYeah. It was.â
For a moment, it felt like time stood stillâlike the universe had bent just enough to give him this moment with you. And even though you didnât remember him, didnât know the history you shared, Logan knew he couldnât let you slip away again.
âY/N...â he began, his voice low, almost hesitant.
You tilted your head, waiting.
He swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. âCan I see you again?â
Your smile widened, something warm flickering in your eyes. âIâd like that.â
Logan gave a short nod, his heart pounding against his ribs.
âGood,â he murmured.
And for the first time in 26 years, Logan allowed himself to believeâjust for a momentâthat maybe, just maybe, heâd found his way back to you.
---
You had taken up Idaâs offer after all, you lived in the same building so it wasnât like it was out of the way for you.
âOh, hey! Thought you werenât gonna come by.â
You shrugged, taking off your shawl, âchanged my mind.â You sat down on the couch and told Ida about your walk with Logan, and she listened intently.
âIâm surprised you hadnât noticed him. Heâs been watching the schoolyard for the past few weeks.â
"Wait, what do you mean, âheâs been watching the schoolyard for weeks?ââ you asked, your brows knitting together as you leaned forward.
Ida waved her hand dismissively but gave you a sly smile. âOh, donât get the wrong idea. He hasnât been creepy about it or anything. Just... noticed him hanging around, thatâs all. Kind of hard to miss a guy like that, donât you think?â
You blinked, a sudden flush creeping up your neck. âA guy like what?â
âOh, come on, Y/N,â she teased, sitting down across from you. âTall, rugged... that serious, brooding look. Youâre telling me you didnât notice? Heâs practically been glued to the corner across from the schoolhouse for days.â
You chewed on your bottom lip, thinking back to the walk youâd just had with Logan. You hadnât seen him watching the school, but now that Ida mentioned it... there had been something in his eyes. A familiarity you couldnât quite place, like he was looking at you but seeing somethingâor someoneâelse.
âI didnât know he was hanging around,â you admitted, glancing down at your hands. âBut... he seems kind. Sad, but kind.â
Ida leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest with a thoughtful hum. âSad, huh? You picked up on that, too?â
You nodded, feeling a strange tightness in your chest. There had been a weight to Loganâs presence, something unspoken in his voice, like he was carrying the world on his shoulders. And then there was the way he looked at youâlike he wanted to say something but couldnât bring himself to.
âYou think heâs okay?â you asked quietly.
Ida shrugged, her teasing expression softening. âWho knows? The worldâs a tough place. We all got our own burdens to carry. But... maybe heâs looking for something.â
âLooking for what?â
âMaybe someone to share the load,â she replied with a small smile, her eyes twinkling. âMaybe that someoneâs you.â
You shook your head, the idea seeming too far-fetched. âI donât even know him, Ida. I mean, we just talked for the first time today.â
âHey, stranger things have happened,â Ida said, getting up to grab a pot of tea from the stove. âYou felt something, right? Thatâs not nothing.â
You sighed, leaning back against the couch. âI guess. He did say I reminded him of someone he lost.â
Ida paused, setting the teapot down carefully. âLost, huh? That would explain the sad part. But... why hang around you then? Whatâs he hoping to find?â
âI donât know,â you murmured, more to yourself than to her. The idea that Logan had been watching you, even unknowingly, made something stir in your chestâa mix of curiosity and something you couldnât quite name.
Ida handed you a cup of tea, sitting back down beside you. âWell, maybe next time you see him, you can ask.â
You looked up at her, one eyebrow raised. âAsk him why heâs hanging around the schoolyard?â
Ida laughed softly. âMaybe not that bluntly, but yeah. Thereâs something about him, Y/N. Might be worth finding out what.â
You sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through you. Maybe Ida was right. Maybe Logan was carrying something heavy, and maybeâjust maybeâyou could help.
---
The next day, you found yourself more aware of your surroundings as you walked to the schoolhouse. Every sound, every movement seemed sharper. You scanned the street, looking for a familiar figure, but Logan wasnât thereâat least, not that you could see.
The day went on as usual, though you felt a bit distracted, your mind drifting to the walk youâd shared with him. There was something about Logan that pulled at you, a quiet intensity that you couldnât shake. He was a mystery, and part of you wanted to solve it.
When the school day ended, you lingered outside a little longer than usual, hopingâhalf-expectingâthat he might show up again. The children ran off, their laughter echoing down the street as they disappeared into their homes. You smiled at the sight, but your thoughts were elsewhere.
âLooking for someone?â
You jumped slightly, turning to find Logan standing just a few feet away. He had approached so quietly you hadnât even heard him.
âLogan,â you said, surprised but not unwelcome. âI didnât see you.â
He gave a small shrug, his hands shoved into his coat pockets. âDidnât mean to sneak up on you.â
You smiled softly, your heartbeat slowing as the initial surprise wore off. âItâs alright. Just didnât expect to see you today.â
Logan shifted his weight, his gaze flicking to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. âI wanted to see if youâd like to take another walk. If youâre not too tired, that is.â
You hesitated, but only for a second. There was something in his voiceâsomething vulnerable, almost hesitant. And despite not knowing him well, you found yourself wanting to say yes.
âIâd like that,â you said, stepping down from the schoolhouse stoop.
The two of you started walking again, this time in a different direction, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the street. For a while, neither of you spoke. It was a comfortable silence, though, the kind that didnât need to be filled with words. Logan walked beside you, his steps steady but deliberate, like he was trying to figure something out.
âWhyâve you been hanging around the school?â you finally asked, your curiosity getting the better of you. âIda said she noticed you there for a while.â
Loganâs jaw tightened slightly, and he didnât answer right away. When he did, his voice was quiet. âI wasnât trying to... I donât know. I guess I was just... drawn there.â
âDrawn there?â you echoed, glancing up at him.
He nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. âYeah. Like I said before, you remind me of someone.â
You didnât press, sensing that whatever it was, it was personal. Instead, you walked in silence for a few more steps before Logan stopped abruptly.
âI donât want to make you uncomfortable,â he said, turning to face you fully. His eyes were intense, but there was something almost apologetic in them. âIf I am, just tell me, and Iâll leave you alone.â
You shook your head quickly. âNo, youâre not making me uncomfortable.â
Logan studied your face, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he gave a small nod, almost as if he was relieved.
âAlright,â he said quietly.
The conversation shifted after that, lightening as you talked about small thingsâthe city, your students, even the weather. Logan listened more than he spoke, but you could feel him relax bit by bit, the tension in his posture easing as the afternoon wore on.
When you reached your building again, Logan stopped with you on the stoop. There was a moment of hesitation, like he wasnât sure if he should stay or go.
âIâll see you tomorrow?â you asked, offering him a small smile.
Logan looked at you for a long beat before nodding. âYeah. Tomorrow.â
As you turned to head inside, you couldnât help but glance back over your shoulder. Logan was still standing there, watching you with that same look in his eyesâthe one that made you feel like you were more than just a stranger to him.
And in that moment, you realized... you didnât want to be just a stranger to him either.
---
After about a week of Logan walking you home, it became a familiar routine. Each time, youâd stand on the stoop, exchanging a few words before youâd head inside, always with that lingering feeling of something left unsaid. But tonight was differentâthe air was colder, and the wind was biting, so when you reached your building, you didnât hesitate.
âYouâre not going out in that cold again,â you said firmly, reaching for his arm. He tensed slightly under your touch, but you ignored it, tugging him toward the door. âTen minutes outside in the cold, you need to warm up before you go.â
Logan didnât protest, but you could sense his hesitation. He glanced around the dimly lit hallway as you led him up the stairs to your small apartment.
âDonât worry,â you teased, trying to lighten the mood. âI wonât keep you long. Just until you can feel your fingers again.â
He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, following you inside. Once you were both in, you motioned for him to sit down on the worn couch, tossing your shawl onto a chair as you made your way to the stove to boil some water for tea.
Logan stood there for a moment, his eyes scanning the modest space, before finally sitting down. His presence seemed to fill the room, making it feel smaller, more intimate.
âYou donât gotta fuss,â he muttered, his gruff voice breaking the silence. âIâm alright.â
âHumor me,â you replied with a soft smile, setting a kettle on the stove. âBesides, Iâve been dragging you along on these walks. Least I can do is make sure youâre not freezing to death.â
Logan huffed a quiet laugh, leaning back into the couch. His eyes followed your movements, though his expression stayed guarded. He looked... cautious, like he wasnât sure how to be here with you, in this space. It was strange, this carefulness, coming from a man who seemed so unbreakable.
âWhy donât you tell me more about yourself?â you asked, turning to face him while the water heated up. âWeâve been walking for a week, and I feel like I barely know you.â
Loganâs gaze shifted, and you could tell he was weighing his words. âNot much to tell,â he said after a beat. âJust a guy whoâs been around a while.â
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. âThatâs it? No family, no friends? You just... wander?â
He looked down at his hands, his fingers idly tracing the worn fabric of the couch. âHad family once. Friends, too. Lost most of âem.â
There was a heaviness in his voice, and you could feel the weight of his words. You didnât push him, though. Instead, you poured the hot water into two cups, walking over and handing him one.
âSorry,â you said softly. âThat mustâve been hard.â
Logan took the cup but didnât drink right away. He stared down into the tea, his expression unreadable. âLifeâs hard for everyone,â he muttered, more to himself than to you.
You sat down beside him, the warmth from the cup seeping into your hands. For a while, the two of you sat in silence, sipping tea and letting the quiet fill the space. There was something about being near him that made you feel calm, like the world slowed down for a little while when he was around.
âWhyâd you let me walk with you?â Logan asked suddenly, his voice rougher than before.
You blinked, caught off guard by the question. âWhat do you mean?â
âYou donât know me,â he said, shaking his head slightly. âMost people wouldnât... Theyâd be scared, or theyâd push me away. But you... you let me stay.â
You frowned, trying to find the right words. âI donât know... I guess I just felt like... I should.â You shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious under his intense gaze. âBesides, youâre not exactly a scary guy. Brooding, sure, but not scary.â
A small, barely-there smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. âYouâre not afraid of much, are you?â
You laughed softly, shaking your head. âNot really. I mean, whatâs the point of being afraid? Lifeâs hard enough without worrying about things that might not even happen.â
Loganâs smile faded, replaced by that familiar look of sadness. He stared into his cup for a moment, then set it down on the table in front of him. âYeah,â he muttered. âGuess youâre right.â
The silence stretched between you again, but this time it felt heavier, like there was something unsaid hanging in the air. You could feel it, pressing down on both of you, but neither of you seemed ready to break it.
Finally, Logan stood up, his movements slow and deliberate. âI should go,â he said, though he didnât make a move toward the door.
You stood up too, your heart pounding a little harder than usual. âLogan...â
He turned to face you, his eyes dark and full of something you couldnât quite place. âYeah?â
You took a step closer, your hand reaching out to touch his arm again. âYou donât have to carry it all alone,â you said softly.
For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then, without saying a word, he nodded once, a silent acknowledgment that you didnât need to explain.
âIâll see you tomorrow,â he said quietly before turning to leave.
You watched him go, your heart heavy but hopeful. There was something between youâsomething unspoken, something oldâand you werenât ready to let it go.
Not yet.
---
It had taken a few more days to convince Logan to come back into your apartment. You werenât sure how you convinced him this time, but you were happy that you did.
Your apartment smelled nice and homey. Before you had left for work, you had put bread in the oven to bake, and now, as you came back home with Logan in tow, it was finished. The warm, inviting scent of freshly baked bread filled the room as you stepped inside. Logan hesitated in the doorway, lingering for a moment before following you in, his expression unreadable but curious.
You busied yourself with the bread, slicing into the crust and offering Logan a piece. He took it, though his attention seemed more focused on you than the food.
"Thanks," he muttered, taking a bite.
You smiled, trying to ignore the way your heart sped up just from him being here. "I was thinking..." you started, turning to grab a couple of plates from the cupboard. "Maybe we could go into the city tomorrow? Itâs market day. There's a lot to see, and itâd be nice to get out of the schoolhouse routine for a bit."
Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter. "Market, huh?"
"Yeah, you know, just... walk around. Maybe pick up a few things." You looked over at him, half expecting him to decline, but to your surprise, he didnât.
"Alright," he said, his voice low but without hesitation. "Iâll come with you."
You smiled, feeling a small flutter of excitement in your chest. "Great. Itâll be fun. I promise."
---
The next day, you found yourself walking through the bustling streets of Chicago with Logan by your side. The market was crowded, full of people haggling and chatting, the air thick with the smell of fresh produce, spices, and the occasional whiff of roasting meat. It was a world away from the quiet walks you'd shared, and you could feel Logan's unease in the busy atmosphere. But he stayed close, his hand brushing yours more than once as you wove through the crowd.
"Do you come here often?" Logan asked, his eyes scanning the vendors with mild interest.
"Once or twice a month," you replied. "I like the energy here. Makes the city feel alive, you know?"
Logan grunted in response, though he didnât seem entirely convinced. You could tell he wasnât used to thisâbeing around so many peopleâbut he stuck close to you, his presence protective without being overbearing.
After a while, you stopped at a stall selling flowers. The colors were vibrant, a burst of life in the middle of the dusty street. You picked up a small bouquet of wildflowers, smiling as you held them up.
"These are my favorite," you said, glancing up at Logan. "They're simple but... I don't know, they make me happy."
Loganâs gaze softened as he looked at the flowers in your hand, then back at you. There was something in his eyes, a flicker of something unspoken, but he didnât say anything. Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a few coins, handing them to the vendor before you could protest.
"Logan, you donât have toâ"
"Consider it a thank you," he said quietly, cutting you off. "For the bread."
You blinked, surprised but touched by the gesture. "Well, thank you."
He nodded, and the two of you continued walking, the flowers resting in the crook of your arm as the city bustled around you. For a while, you walked in comfortable silence, the sounds of the market fading into the background as the two of you wandered further from the busy streets. Eventually, you found a quiet park at the edge of the city, a small, peaceful space away from the noise.
You sat down on a bench, feeling the cool breeze brush against your skin. Logan sat beside you, his posture relaxed but his eyes always scanning the area, as if he couldnât fully let his guard down.
"Do you ever stop looking over your shoulder?" you asked, half teasing but curious.
Loganâs mouth twitched into a small smile, though it didnât quite reach his eyes. "Old habit."
You studied him for a moment, sensing there was more behind those words. He had a way of holding himself, like he was always ready for something, always waiting. It made you wonder just how much heâd seen, how much heâd lived through.
"Iâm glad you came with me today," you said softly, looking out at the park. "I feel like Iâve been stuck in a routine for a while now. Itâs nice to just... do something different."
Logan glanced at you, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. "Iâm glad I came too," he admitted, his voice low.
There was something in the way he said it, something that made your heart skip a beat. The air between you felt different, charged with a quiet tension that neither of you seemed willing to break. You wondered if he felt it tooâthe strange pull between you, like something just beneath the surface was waiting to be uncovered.
After a long pause, Logan spoke again. "I ainât good at... this." He gestured vaguely, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words. "Being close to people."
You turned to him, surprised by the admission. "Youâre doing fine," you said gently.
Loganâs jaw clenched slightly, and he shook his head. "Itâs not that simple."
You felt a pang of somethingâsympathy, maybe, or understanding. Whatever it was, it made you reach out, your hand lightly brushing his. "You donât have to explain," you said softly. "I get it."
Loganâs eyes flickered down to where your hand rested near his. For a moment, he didnât move. Then, slowly, he turned his hand over, his rough fingers brushing against yours in the faintest of touches. It wasnât much, but it felt like a stepâlike maybe, just maybe, he was letting you in.
---
As you walked to the tenement building after work one day, you glanced over at Logan. âYou ever been to the exhibition hall in the city?â
Logan looked over to you, slightly puzzled by the question. âThe exhibition?â
You nodded, turning toward him. âThereâs a display of inventions and art from all over. I heard theyâve got this new thingâelectric lights. I was thinking about going this weekend, and⊠maybe youâd like to come with me?â
For a moment, Logan just stared at you, as if unsure what to say. The idea of stepping out into the city, surrounded by people, probably wasnât something he did often. But he shifted slightly, his eyes softening in that way they did when you caught him off guard.
âYou want me to go with you?â he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.
âWell, yeah,â you said, smiling. âWeâve been walking the same few streets for days. Thought it might be nice to do something different. Besides, Iâm curious about those lights. They say itâs going to change the way people live.â
Logan gave a low, thoughtful hum, and for a moment, you worried he might decline. But then he nodded slowly, his expression softening further. âAlright. Iâll go.â
Your smile widened. âGreat! We can meet at my place on Saturday afternoon, then head out.â
The conversation drifted back into easier topicsâyour students, a new bakery that had opened nearby, and the way the city seemed to grow busier every day. But beneath it all, you couldnât shake the feeling that this small invitation marked a shift, a way to see more of who Logan was beyond the quiet man who walked beside you in silence. Maybe out in the world, youâd understand him better.
---
Saturday came quickly, and the two of you walked side by side through the busy streets, the sounds of horses and carriages filling the air. You led Logan through the bustling avenues toward the exhibition hall, your excitement barely contained.
âEver seen anything like this?â you asked, glancing up at him as the towering hall came into view.
Loganâs eyes flicked over the building, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. âNot in a while.â
Inside, the hall was a wonder of modern marvels. Booths lined with mechanical inventions, sculptures, and paintings from around the world. The hum of excitement filled the air, and the bright new electric lights cast a strange, almost magical glow over everything.
You wandered the displays together, your curiosity leading the way. Logan stayed close, his attention less on the inventions and more on you. Every now and then, he'd glance at a piece of machinery or a strange-looking contraption, but his eyes kept drifting back to your face, watching the way your expression changed with each new discovery.
"This is incredible," you murmured, leaning in to get a closer look at a large machine labeled as an âautomatic loom.â You smiled at Logan, your excitement clear. "Can you imagine how much time this would save?"
Logan nodded, though you could tell his thoughts were elsewhere. "Yeah, I can see how it'd be useful."
You moved to the next display, but Logan lingered for a moment. When he finally caught up, you were already studying a paintingâa soft, pastoral scene that contrasted with the industrial energy around you.
"It's beautiful, isnât it?" you said, glancing at him.
Loganâs gaze flicked to the painting, but quickly returned to you. "Yeah," he said, though it was clear he wasnât talking about the art.
You felt his eyes on you again and looked up, meeting his gaze. There was something thereâsomething that made your heart skip. Logan had always been protective, always hovering just close enough to shield you if need be. But this felt different, like there was more to it now.
"You sure this ainât boring for you?" you asked, trying to lighten the moment. "I know youâre not one for crowds."
Logan gave a quiet grunt, his version of a chuckle. "Itâs fine. Long as youâre enjoying yourself."
You smiled, touched by the sentiment. "I am. Thanks for coming with me."
For a while, you wandered together in silence, taking in the sights and sounds of the exhibition hall. The crowds around you buzzed with excitement, but the space between you and Logan felt almost separateâlike the world had shrunk to just the two of you.
At one point, you stopped in front of a display showcasing early electric light bulbs. "Look at that," you said, pointing to the glass bulbs flickering with soft light. "Theyâre saying these will replace gas lamps soon."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Doesnât seem right, replacing something thatâs worked for so long."
"Change is good sometimes," you said, glancing at him. "It keeps things moving forward."
Logan met your eyes, his expression soft but thoughtful. "Guess Iâve never been good with change."
You tilted your head slightly, sensing the weight behind his words. "Maybe you just havenât found the right reason to embrace it yet."
For a moment, Logan didnât respond. His gaze lingered on you, like he was trying to make sense of something. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Maybe."
As the afternoon wore on, the two of you eventually stepped outside the exhibition hall, the sun low in the sky and the cityâs evening glow starting to take over. The air felt cooler now, a welcome relief after the warmth of the crowded hall.
You walked beside Logan in comfortable silence, but the charged undercurrent between you hadnât faded. It felt like something had shiftedâlike youâd both acknowledged a deeper connection, even if neither of you had fully put it into words yet.
"You want to get something to eat?" Logan asked, breaking the silence.
"Sure," you said, smiling up at him. "Thereâs a place not far from here. They make the best stew."
Logan nodded, falling into step beside you again as you made your way toward the small restaurant you had in mind. The quiet between you was easy, but there was an unspoken understanding that something had changed between the two of you today. Neither of you said it out loud, but you didnât need to.
As you entered the restaurant, the warm scent of food filled the air, and you found a table near the back, away from the main crowd. Logan took the seat across from you, his eyes scanning the room out of habit, but eventually settling back on you.
"This place isnât so bad," he said, giving a small nod of approval.
You laughed softly. "Glad it meets your standards."
Logan smirked, but there was a softness behind it. As the two of you talked over dinner, you realized just how much you enjoyed moments like thisâquiet, simple, yet meaningful. It wasnât about grand gestures or fancy places; it was about being together, about the way Logan made you feel safe and seen.
---
One day, after inviting Logan into your apartment once again, you set out to make tea like you always do.
You felt a cough building up in your throat, so you grabbed a small handkerchief from the counter and coughed into it. You had seen the school doctor while you were at work, and he said you just had a mild cold.
Logan, who was sitting on the couch, immediately turned his head to you, his heart almost beating out of his chest. Heâd heard that cough beforeâ26 years ago.
"Y/N?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.
You turned around, still holding the handkerchief to your mouth. "Yeah?" you answered casually, noticing the tension in his voice but thinking nothing of it. âJust a little cough, nothing serious. I saw the doctor earlier, and he said itâs just a cold.â
Logan stood up slowly, his eyes fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He took a step closer, his mind racing back to 1854, to your last daysâbedridden and coughing, just like this. He had lost you then, watching helplessly as the illness took you. He couldn't shake the feeling, the memory, and the fear that history might repeat itself.
"Cold, huh?" he said, trying to keep his voice steady, but there was an edge to it.
"Yeah, no big deal." You smiled, folding the handkerchief and putting it back in your pocket. "Really, Logan, Iâm fine."
Loganâs jaw tightened. He had seen too much, lived too long to believe in coincidence. This was too familiar, too painful. And yet, here you wereâalive, vibrant. This time, he couldnât lose you again. He wouldn't.
"You should take it easy," he said, stepping closer, his tone gentler now. "You been workin' too hard at that school."
You raised an eyebrow, sensing his concern but not quite understanding the depth of it. "Iâm fine, really. Itâs just a little cold. Nothing that rest and tea wonât fix."
Logan didnât argue, but the worry in his eyes didnât fade. He reached out, his hand hovering for a moment before he gently brushed his fingers against your arm, grounding himself in the fact that you were here, with him. This wasnât 1854. But the memory haunted him.
You noticed the way he was looking at you, his eyes searching yours like he was afraid to lose you. "Hey," you said softly, resting a hand on his. "Whatâs really going on?"
Loganâs breath hitched for a moment, and he fought the urge to pull you closer, to tell you everything. But how could he? How could he explain that youâd been here beforeâthat heâd watched you die, that heâd loved you once in another life, in another time? Instead, he just shook his head, the weight of those memories too heavy to share.
"Just... donât push yourself too hard," he said, his voice quieter now. "Iâve seen people get worse when they donât take care of themselves."
You nodded, though his intensity still lingered in your mind. "I promise, Iâll rest." You gave him a reassuring smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides, youâll make sure I do, right?"
Loganâs lips quirked into the smallest smile, but there was still something distant in his eyes. "Yeah," he said softly. "I will."
The moment hung in the air, the unspoken weight of Loganâs past pressing down on him, though you couldnât see it. You were the same, and yet not. The woman he had once loved and lost was standing right in front of him, alive, but without any memory of that life youâd shared.
---
You didnât see Logan for a few days, which was unusual, ever since he started walking with you he had never missed a day.
You couldnât help but worry a tad bit, it wasnât like him to just not be there. Even Ida had made a few comments, including now as you sat in her apartment, just a few doors down from your own, sipping tea.
âHe hasnât been by at all?â Ida asked, her brow furrowed with concern. âThat man never misses a day. Heâs usually lurking outside, waitinâ to walk you home.â
You nodded, biting your lip. âYeah, I noticed. Itâs been three days now.â
Ida leaned forward, her hands folded on the table. âYou donât think somethinâs happened to him, do ya? That man is tough, sure, but even the toughest get into trouble sometimes.â
You shook your head quickly, not wanting to entertain the thought. âNo, Iâm sure heâs fine. Maybe he just needed some time alone. Heâs... not the type to explain himself much.â
Ida hummed, though she didnât look convinced. âMaybe. But if he doesnât show up soon, you ought to go find him. Heâs a good man, Y/N, and youâve only known him a month, but itâs clear he cares about you.â
The truth of her words settled over you, heavy and unspoken. You cared about Logan too. Even if you didnât quite understand the pull between you, it was thereâundeniable. And the fact that he hadnât shown up, without so much as a word, made your chest tighten with worry.
Later that evening, after youâd left Idaâs apartment and returned to your own, you couldnât shake the uneasy feeling. Logan had become part of your routine, part of your day-to-day life. And now that he was gone, it felt like something was missing.
Just as you were about to turn in for the night, a knock sounded at the door.
Your heart jumped, and you rushed to open it, half expectingâhalf hopingâit would be Logan.
And there he was.
He stood in the doorway, his coat damp from the light rain outside, his hair slightly tousled. His eyes, though, were what caught youâthe familiar intensity, but with something else lurking beneath. Something darker.
âLogan,â you breathed, stepping aside to let him in. âWhere have you been? I was starting to get worried.â
Logan stepped into your small apartment, his broad frame somehow filling the space, making it feel even smaller. He didnât say anything right away, just ran a hand through his hair and exhaled sharply, as if he were trying to gather his thoughts.
âI needed time,â he finally said, his voice low and gravelly.
âTime for what?â you asked gently, sensing that whatever he was about to say wasnât easy for him.
Logan glanced at you, then looked away, as if he couldnât meet your eyes. His jaw tightened, and you could see the struggle on his faceâlike he was wrestling with something deep inside. After a long pause, he spoke again, quieter this time.
âIâm scared,â he admitted, the words sounding foreign in his mouth, like he wasnât used to saying them.
You blinked, taken aback. Logan was the last person you ever expected to hear those words from. âScared of what?â
His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you saw the vulnerability there, raw and unguarded. âOf losing you,â he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. âLogan⊠weâve only known each other for a month,â you said softly, though the words felt strange even as they left your mouth. Because deep down, it felt like youâd known him much longerâlike this connection between you was more than just a month in the making.
âI know,â Logan said, his voice rough. âBut it doesnât change how I feel.â
There was something in the way he was looking at you, something desperate and pained, like he was holding onto you with everything he had. You wanted to ask him why, to understand what had happened in his past to make him feel this way. But instead, you just reached out, your hand finding his.
âIâm not going anywhere,â you said quietly, squeezing his hand gently. âIâm right here.â
Loganâs breath hitched, and before you could say anything more, he stepped closer, his hand cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushed your cheek, his touch rough but gentle, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fall away. It was just the two of you, standing in the quiet of your apartment, the air between you thick with unspoken words.
And then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you.
It wasnât a gentle kiss. It was urgent, almost desperate, like he was trying to tell you everything he couldnât put into words. His lips moved against yours with a fierceness that took your breath away, and for a moment, all you could do was hold onto him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his coat as you kissed him back.
When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. His hand still cupped your cheek, his thumb gently brushing along your jawline.
âI canât lose you,â he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Your heart ached at the raw honesty in his words, and you wanted to promise him that he wouldnâtâthat you were here, that you werenât going anywhere. But something about the way he said it made you hesitate, made you wonder what he wasnât telling you.
âLoganâŠâ you started, your voice soft. âWhat arenât you telling me?â
For a long moment, he didnât answer. His hand dropped from your face, and he took a step back, his expression guarded once again. The walls heâd let down just moments ago seemed to be rising back up.
âIâve lived a long time,â he said finally, his voice low. âIâve lost people before. People I cared about. I canât⊠I canât go through that again.â
You felt a pang in your chest at his words, but there was something else there tooâsomething unspoken. âLogan⊠who did you lose?â
His eyes flickered with pain, but he didnât answer. Instead, he just shook his head, as if he couldnât bring himself to say it out loud.
You wanted to press him, to understand, but you also knew that Logan wasnât someone who opened up easily. So instead, you just stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him in a gentle hug. He stiffened at first, but then his arms slowly came around you, pulling you close as if he was afraid to let go.
âIâm here,â you whispered against his chest. âIâm not going anywhere.â
For now, that was all you could offer him. And for now, it seemed to be enough.
---
You and Ida sat in the back of the rattling carriage, bundled against the cold, the wheels creaking beneath the weight of your bags from the market. The late afternoon sky was heavy with clouds, promising rain before nightfall and a storm by morning.
âSupposed to come down hard tomorrow,â Ida said, clutching her shawl tighter. âGlad we got everything done now. Donât wanna be caught in that mess.â
You smiled, shifting a bag of potatoes off your lap. âItâll be nice to have an excuse to stay in and rest. Loganâs been after me about taking it easy anyway.â
Ida gave you a knowing look, her brow lifting. âThat man likes you, Y/N. More than you think.â
You shrugged, though your cheeks warmed slightly. âI know he cares. Heâs just⊠different. Keeps to himself.â
âHeâs different, alright,â Ida muttered, peering out the carriage window. âBut heâs not the type to care about someone without good reason. Donât let that one get away.â
You didnât respond, but your thoughts drifted to Loganâhow he had kissed you that night, holding you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. There was something ancient in his touch, like he had carried the weight of loss for far too long. You didnât fully understand it, but you felt itâsomething deeper than words or time.
The carriage jolted suddenly, jerking you forward in your seat. The horse up front whinnied, wild and panicked.
âWhoa!â the driver shouted, yanking hard on the reins.
You clutched Idaâs arm, your heart racing. âWhatâs going on?â
The driver cursed, standing in his seat to get a better look. âThe damn harness snapped! The horseââ
Before he could finish, the horse bolted, the broken leather straps slapping wildly behind it. The carriage lurched, and you and Ida were thrown sideways. The wheels screamed as they spun out of control, the driver shouting as he fought to keep it steady.
âHold on!â he yelled.
The world tilted violently as the carriage careened off the road, slamming into a ditch. Bags spilled across the floor, and you hit your shoulder hard against the side wall. Idaâs scream filled your ears, but the noise was drowned out by the thunder of the collapsing carriage, wood splintering and wheels buckling beneath the weight.
And thenânothing.
The carriage stopped, shuddering to a halt in a twisted heap at the bottom of the ditch. The rain started, light at first, pattering against the wreckage.
---
Logan was walking back toward your tenement building, the collar of his coat turned up against the cold drizzle, when he saw itâjust beyond the next block, down by the road.
The sight hit him like a punch to the chest.
A carriage, overturned, one of the wheels still spinning lazily. The horse was gone, its reins dangling uselessly from the harness. People were gathering, but no one dared approach the wreckage yet.
Loganâs heart stopped. He knewâhe just knew.
His feet moved before he could think. He sprinted toward the wreck, rain falling harder now, soaking through his clothes. His boots hit the muddy road with heavy thuds, splashing water as he ran faster than any ordinary man should.
By the time he reached the scene, a bystander had climbed down, trying to pry the splintered door open. Logan shoved him aside without a word, claws itching under his skin, ready to tear the door off if need be.
âSomeoneâs inside!â the man stammered. âTwo womenââ
Logan didnât wait. His hands found the edge of the door, and with a growl of effort, he yanked it off the hinges. Inside the crumpled interior, he saw you, half-buried beneath scattered bags.
âY/N!â His voice cracked, raw and frantic. He dropped to his knees and pulled you free, cradling you in his arms.
You stirred, barely conscious, your head lolling against his chest. Blood streaked your temple, and your breath came in shallow gasps.
âLoganâŠ?â you whispered, confused, your hand weakly grasping his coat.
âI got you,â Logan said, his voice breaking. âIâm here. Youâre gonna be fine.â But even as he said it, dread gnawed at himâthis wasnât fine. It was happening again.
Ida groaned nearby, struggling to sit up, but Loganâs focus was locked on you. He pressed a hand against your side, where your ribs felt wrong under his touch. He could feel the heat of your blood seeping into his fingers.
âNo, no, noâŠâ Logan whispered, shaking his head. The storm raged around him, but all he could hear was the shallow rasp of your breathing.
You looked up at him, your gaze unfocused, but your lips curled into the faintest smile. âI told you⊠Iâd restâŠâ
âDonât,â Logan begged, his forehead pressing against yours. âDonât do this. Stay with me. You hear me? Stay.â
You blinked slowly, your hand slipping from his coat. âI⊠triedâŠâ
Logan clenched his jaw, biting down hard against the scream building in his chest. His healing mutation would keep him alive through anythingâbut it couldnât save you. Not now. Not again.
He kissed your forehead, his breath shuddering. âI canât lose you again, darlinâ. Not like thisâŠâ
Your breath hitched once, then stopped.
âNo,â Logan whispered, rocking you in his arms. âNo, no, noâŠâ
His hands trembled as he pulled you closer, your lifeless body limp against him. The rain poured down harder, drumming on the wreckage, but Logan didnât care. He sat there, holding you, feeling the familiar, soul-crushing emptiness settle in his chest like an old wound tearing open again.
And still, he held you. Because this time, just like 26 years ago, he couldnât let go.
in this chapter logan is 48 years old and reader is around 22-24 years old. just a reminder that going forward there is going to be an age gap between the two since logan obviously keeps getting older.
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#james howlett x reader#james howlett x you#logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fic#i love you in every time
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boy, i, boy, i, boy, i know i know you got the feels â fushiguro megumi.
âYou⊠want to be with me?â he repeated slowly, like he needed to say it out loud to make sure he understood. âYes!â you said, more firmly this time. âI like you, Megumi. A lot!â For a long moment, he didnât move, didnât speak. âWhat..what do you mean by like? Do you meanâŠlike likeâŠ..orâŠâ You looked at him confused. âBut of course I like you, Megumi. Youâre like my best friend!â He lowered his head. âI see.â When Gojo Satoru heard all about that, he laughed so hard he fell off a chair. Fushiguro Tsumiki was worried but Fushiguro Megumi just slapped his arm while he coughed for air.
Genre: Alternate Universe â Canon Convergence;
Warning/s: Romance, Love, Fluff, First Love, Faling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Strangers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Feelings, Confessions, Anxiety, Self-Esteem, Awkwardness, Teasing, Sibling Relationship, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Humor, Protectiveness, Happy Ending, Teenage Angst, Young Love Is a Pain, Teenagers Going Through It, Sorcerer! Reader, Mild-Tsundere! Megumi, Mild-Tsundere! Reader, Gojo Satoru as a Brother;
Words: 7.8k words.
note: i wrote this maybe twice or thrice. i didn't like multiple drafts, so i kept rewriting. this was supposed to be more and more about the introspection of young people. i don't think i had that sort of phase. mine was pretty different. so i had to look into that feeling, like what would it feel like as a teenager to fall in love like this? anyway, i hope you enjoy this a lot. i love you all!!! <3
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IT WAS HARD TO EXIST THE WAY YOU WANTED. You feel like youâve been like that all your lifeâtoo much. It doesnât help that you were born a Gojo, like your brother. The expectations that came with the name were already heavy, but add that to everything else, and you stood out whether you wanted to or not.
Youâve always been tallerâtaller than the other girls in your class, taller than most of the boys too. Itâs the kind of height that made you stick out awkwardly in photos, your limbs feeling too long, too noticeable, and like they never quite fit where they should.
And just as much, you were too loud. You were the kid who couldnât sit still, who laughed too hard, and who spoke before thinking. You always had an opinion, a comment, or some joke to crack.
But while some people admired the confidence, others found it overwhelming. Youâd hear them whisper about how you didnât know how to take up less space, how you didnât know when to stop talking. Even if they didnât say it out loud, you could feel itâtheir exhaustion with your presence.
But none of their words matteredânot really. Because you never felt alone. Not when you had your brother. Satoru, with all his power and his cocky grin, had a way of making things lighter, easier. Like nothing in the world could ever bother you as long as he was there.
He always knew how to turn everything into a joke, how to lift the weight of the world off your shoulders like it was nothing. When people teased you for being too much, for being the loud Gojo girl who towered over everyone, heâd shrug it off like it was all beneath him. He never made you feel like you were too much for him.
With Satoru, it didnât matter if you were awkward, clumsy, or too tall. Heâd laugh with you, poke fun at your height like it was something to be proud of. And when people couldnât handle you, when they stepped back because your energy was just a little too wild for them, Satoru was always there. He made you feel like the world was yours to take, that being "too much" was just another way of being more than enough.
Gojo Satoru was larger than life. He was the type who filled a room with his presence, never shy, never hesitant, always overflowing with energy. You followed in his wake, figuring that youâd grow up just like himâbold, confident, and, if you were lucky, a little ridiculous too.
People gravitated toward your brother, and you always figured theyâd do the same with you, that youâd never feel small because youâd learned from the best how to be big, even if it wasnât in the way you looked.
But of course, he had his own life too. And he was older than you. He had duties and dreams and hopes that he was going to chase after. Slowly but surely, you realized that your brother was not always going to be in your life.
You realized that he was going to live a life beyond you. He has to. And in the mind of a little girl, that had triggered some things. And you were inconsolable. You had never felt more distraught in your life.
âWhat are you even crying about?â
You had looked up, with your tear ridden blue eyes.
Blueâgreen gleams burned against your own orbs.
Then, there was Fushiguro Megumi.
Satoru had introduced you to him when you were both kids. It was a warm summer afternoon, and you remembered standing beside your brother, peeking curiously at the quiet boy who looked so out of place at your energetic, whirlwind of a home.Â
âThis is Megumi, little sis.â Satoru had said, patting the boyâs head with a wide grin. âHeâs going to stay with us for a while with his sister. Take care of him, okay?â
You remembered Megumiâs solemn face, those intense, dark eyes peering up at you with a mix of wariness and confusion. Something about him stuck with you right away. He wasnât like Satoru at all.
Where your brother was loud, brash, and always moving like a force of nature, Megumi was quiet, reserved, and even a little distant. But in that stillness, there was a calm that made you feel safe in a way you hadnât expected. His presence was grounding, like he didnât need to be loud to make an impact. The more time you spent around him, the more drawn in you became.
Even as a kid, you knew there was something special about him, something that made your heart skip in a way that confused you at first. He didnât chase after attention like others did. He seemed comfortable being on the sidelines, watching quietly as if the chaos around him couldnât reach him. And somehow, that pulled you in even more.
Youâd find yourself watching himâwhether it was during meals when heâd quietly pick at his food while Satoru jabbered on about nonsense, or when heâd curl up in a corner of the house, reading a book that looked too difficult for his age. You admired how steady he was, how he always seemed so unaffected by the noise and chaos that surrounded him.
One time, you even tried to mimic that calmness. Youâd sat beside him in the living room, crossing your legs and folding your hands neatly in your lap, glancing over at him to see if he noticed. Megumi had looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow slightly.Â
âWhat⊠are you doing?â
âTrying to be calm.â youâd announced proudly, puffing your chest out a little. âLike you.â
He blinked at you, his serious expression almost comically puzzled. âWhy?â
âBecause youâre⊠cool!â youâd blurted out, cheeks heating up. âYouâre, um, like a cat. Quiet and⊠mysterious.â Even back then, you were terrible at explaining yourself, but the words just tumbled out in your eagerness to be understood.
Megumiâs lips twitched, and youâd swear you saw the faintest hint of a smile. âA cat?â he echoed, looking almost amused.
âYeah!â youâd nodded enthusiastically. âCats donât need to be loud or run around to be interesting. They just⊠are. Like you.â
Heâd stared at you for a moment, then ducked his head, ears turning pink. âThatâs⊠a weird thing to say.â
Youâd deflated a little, afraid youâd embarrassed yourself, but then Megumi had quietly shifted a bit closer, still looking down at his book. âBut⊠thanks.â heâd mumbled, voice barely above a whisper. âI guess.â
That small, almost shy acknowledgment had made your heart swell with a warmth you didnât quite understand. From then on, you found yourself seeking out his company more and more, content to sit beside him even if neither of you spoke much. Back then, it was simple. You just wanted to be near him, to be a part of that quiet space he seemed to create around himself.
But it wasnât long before that simple admiration started to turn into something more. Youâd catch yourself staring at him a little longer, noticing things like the way his eyes softened when he looked at you or how his hair would fall just a bit over his forehead, making you want to brush it away. Whenever Satoru teased him and made him blush, you felt an inexplicable urge to do something, anything, to make him smile instead.
Years later, that feeling only grew stronger, until it became impossible to ignore. And now, standing under the sakura trees, feeling like your heart might burst out of your chest, you finally realized why. Megumi had always been special to you, in a way no one else ever could be. And the thought of telling him that was terrifyingâbut also, thrilling.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. âHey, Megumi,â you called out softly, stepping closer to where he stood. He glanced up, surprised by the sound of your voice cutting through the silence. âDo you remember when I said youâre like a cat?â
Megumi frowned slightly, as if trying to recall, then gave a hesitant nod. âYeah, I think so. Why?â
âWellâŠâ You bit your lip, fighting the urge to look away. âI still think that. But I also think⊠youâre more than just that.â
His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. âWhat do you mean?â
âYouâreâŠâ You took a deep breath, the words coming out in a rush. âYouâre everything Iâve always wanted, Megumi. Youâre kind, and you make me feel safe. And⊠and I want to be with you. Always.â
The silence that followed was almost unbearable. Megumi just stared at you, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open as if he couldnât believe what he was hearing.
âYou⊠want to be with me?â he repeated slowly, like he needed to say it out loud to make sure he understood.
âYes!â you said, more firmly this time. âI like you, Megumi. A lot!â
For a long moment, he didnât move, didnât speak. âWhat..what do you mean by like? Do you meanâŠlike likeâŠ..orâŠâ
You looked at him confused. âBut of course I like you, Megumi. Youâre like my best friend!â
He lowered his head. âI see.â
When Gojo Satoru heard all about that, he laughed so hard he fell off a chair. Fushiguro Tsumiki was worried but Fushiguro Megumi just slapped his arm while he coughed for air.
But as you grew older, those feelings started to change, become more complex, more uncertain. It wasnât just a childhood crush anymore; it was something deeper. You found yourself thinking about Megumi in ways that left you feeling vulnerable, like there was a part of you that would always be reaching out to him, even if you werenât sure heâd reach back.
It hits you suddenly;like lightning straight to your heart. Youâre sitting on the couch with Megumi and your brother Satoru, casually chatting about nothing in particular, but every time Megumi glances your way, something flips inside you. Itâs ridiculous, really, how just the smallest brush of his fingers against yours sends you spiraling.
You try to stay composed, but your mind is racing, wondering if he feels it too. Does his heart skip when your knees touch? Is he trying to steal glances at you the way you do when heâs not looking? Your thoughts swirlâCatching feels like butterfliesâand itâs getting harder to focus on the conversation.
Satoru notices immediately, of course. The knowing smirk on his face is impossible to miss.
"Hey, you good?" he asks, voice laced with amusement. "You're looking kinda flushed. Maybe it's the heatâoh wait, maybe it's just Cupid."
You shoot him a glare, but the grin on his face only widens.
"Shut up." you mutter, crossing your arms, though the heat in your cheeks betrays you. âFocus on everything else except me.â
He leans in closer, eyes glinting with mischief. "Ooooh, are you catching feels?" He snickers, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "This is too good! I thought you were just spacing out, but nope, you're totallyâboom-boom-boom from head to toe."
Megumi glances over, raising an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"
Before you can even attempt to answer, Satoruâs all over it, teasing mercilessly. "Oh, nothing! Just my dearest sister here having a bit of a heart-fluttering moment. But donât worry, Megumi, sheâs just having a moment. But boy, I know, boy I know, my sis has the feels!"
You want to disappear right then and there. Of course, Satoru would turn this into a full-blown spectacle. You manage to meet Megumiâs gaze, and to your surprise, thereâs a slight flush on his cheeks too.
"Ignore him, okay?" Megumi says, voice calm but softer than usual. He smiles at you, for a moment. You could feel yourself getting hot. He was pretty when he smiled. Oh my god. âHeâs justâŠannoying again.â
âNuh-uh!â
âSpoken like a child.â
It gives you a little hope, just enough to make you wonder if maybeâjust maybeâhis heart beats the same way.
But before you can dwell on that, Satoruâs voice cuts through the moment, "Youâre both hopeless! Just admit it already. This is too entertaining."
You groan, burying your face in your hands, but thereâs no denying it anymore. Youâve got all the feels, and Satoru isnât about to let you forget it. âShut up!â
âNo!â He snickers back at you, tongue out.Â
âIâm telling mom about this!â
âHey, donât! Momâs gonna yell at me!â
The doubt crept in slowly at first. You couldnât help but notice how different you were from the girls Megumi seemed to glance at from time to timeâsmall, delicate girls, the kind that looked like they belonged in some romantic movie. Girls who were easy to hold, easy to protect. Girls who fit perfectly into that image of what you thought a guy like Megumi might want.
Itâs not like youâd caught him staring or anything, but youâd seen the way his eyes lingered on them, just for a second longer than usual. It wasnât anything obvious, but you noticedâof course, you noticed. And once you did, it was like a seed of doubt planted itself in your mind, growing roots and spreading.
Youâre not like that. Not even close.
Youâre too loud. Always have been. The kind of loudness that people notice before you even say a word. The one who laughs too hard at jokes, talks over people without meaning to, and fills every silence with something because you hate the quiet. Megumi, though? He thrives in the quiet. His calm, composed presence is so opposite to your own chaotic energy that it feels like a constant reminder of how you could never be his type.
And then thereâs the height thing. Youâre not sure why it bothers you so much, but it does. Youâve caught yourself slouching a little around him, trying to shrink yourself because standing next to Megumi, you feel like youâre towering over him. You feel awkward, too tall, like youâre out of place in his world of composed strength.
Itâs silly, right? Heâs not short, not by any means, but standing next to him? It feels like you take up too much space, like youâre the hurricane and heâs the calm in the storm. How could someone like that ever be into someone like you?
And itâs not just your height. Itâs everything. Youâre messy, clumsy, always blurting out whatâs on your mind without thinking. Megumiâs quiet, reserved, the kind of guy who takes his time to process things, to consider every angle. Meanwhile, youâre tripping over your words, interrupting without meaning to, and trying way too hard to fill the silence when you know you should probably just shut up.
You groan inwardly, sinking further into the couch as Satoru continues to tease you, his voice still echoing in your head. "Youâre totally catching feels, sis." he had said, laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. And maybe to him, it is. But to you? Itâs terrifying.
Because you knowâyou knowâthat youâre not the kind of person Megumi would go for. Youâre not the small, delicate girl who looks like she stepped out of a dream. Youâre loud, too tall, too much. And even if Megumiâs too polite to say anything, you canât help but think that deep down, heâs got to notice it too.
Maybe thatâs why youâve been trying to ignore these feelings. They donât make sense. How could they? Youâre so different, and not in a way that balances out. More like in a way that makes you wonder what youâre even doing here, sitting next to him, pretending like you belong.
You risk a glance at Megumi. Heâs focused on the TV, his usual thoughtful expression in place. Heâs probably not even thinking about you, not the way youâre obsessing over every little detail. And why would he?
Guys like him donât go for girls like you.
One evening, you found yourself sprawled on the couch, a bowl of popcorn balancing precariously on your stomach as you stared at the ceiling, sighing dramatically for the tenth time in five minutes.
Satoru, who was sitting at the dining table messing with his phone, finally looked up, one eyebrow raised. âAlright, whatâs the deal? Youâve been sighing like youâre auditioning for a soap opera. Youâve been out of it for a while.â
You rolled your eyes but couldnât help a small laugh. âItâs nothing. Itâs just⊠falling in love is so hard.â
Satoruâs eyes twinkled with amusement. âOh? Now weâre talking about love, huh?â He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows like he was about to drop some great wisdom. âWhoâs the unlucky guy? Is it Hibari Kyoya this time? OrâŠ.wellâŠJeon Jungkook?â
You groaned and buried your face in the couch pillow. âItâs not about one guy! Itâs the whole process. Itâs exhausting. Why canât it just be easy?â
Satoru walked over and plopped down beside you, stealing a handful of your popcorn. âEasy? Love is supposed to be fun. Iâm fun, and Iâm great at love. What are you doing wrong? Tell big brother, little sis.â
You shot him a death glare, which only made him chuckle. âYou make everything sound like a competition. I canât exactly just⊠Gojo Satoru my way through love.â
âI mean, you could.â he said, popping a kernel into his mouth. âHave you tried being as charming as me?â
âOh, please. I am charming!â you said, sitting up and throwing a piece of popcorn at him. âItâs just⊠ugh, you know what I mean. Itâs like every time I like someone, theyâre all obsessed with those cute, tiny, delicate girls. And then thereâs me.â You gestured at your tall frame with both hands, adding a dramatic flair. âLoud, unignorable, tall-as-a-tree me. Freak of nature, if you will!â
Satoru snorted. âYou make it sound like youâre a giraffe or something. And please, youâre hardly a freak of nature. Iâm tall and petite all the same.â
âSometimes it feels like it!â you huffed, crossing your arms. âDo you know how hard it is to casually lean on someone when theyâre two heads shorter than you? I could break them!â
âGood point.â Satoru said with mock seriousness. âBeing tall and fabulous is clearly a burden.â
You shot him a look. âDonât patronize me, youâre not helping.â
Satoru laughed and patted your head like you were a puppy. âCome on, whatâs wrong with being tall? Itâs your thing. Own it. Besides, nothing you can do about Gojo genes. We are tall.â
You sighed again, this time more dramatically. âItâs not just the height, Satoru-nii. Itâs everything! The girls guys like are all quiet and soft, and Iâm like⊠a walking megaphone with legs for days.â
Satoru smirked. âFirst of all, youâre not a megaphone. Maybe a karaoke machine, at worst.â
You threw a cushion at him, but he ducked easily, still grinning. âAnd second of all,â he continued, âyouâre focusing on the wrong stuff. Guys donât just like small, quiet girls. Thatâs a myth. Trust me, you just need to find the guy who appreciates that you could easily dunk on him in basketball.â
You couldnât help but laugh at that image. âOh yeah, super romantic. âHey, babe, let me dunk on you real quick.ââ
âExactly!â Satoru said with a wink. âYouâve got to use what makes you awesome, not hide it. I mean, look at Megââ He cut himself off, eyes twinkling mischievously. âYou know, I thought I was gonna set it aside, maybe youâre too logical about things butâŠ.â
Your heart skipped a beat, and you instantly went into defense mode. âWâwhat about Megumi?â
âNothing, nothing!â he said, holding up his hands innocently. âJust saying, heâs quiet, and youâre loud. Could be a good balance. You never knowâŠâ
You blushed furiously, tossing the rest of your popcorn at him. âSatoru-nii! Heâs your student! I canât just and someone under your careâugh!â
Satoru laughed like this was the most entertaining thing heâd heard all week. âHey, all Iâm saying is, maybe youâre thinking about this whole âfalling in loveâ thing too hard. Maybe youâre already in love and just donât know what to do about it. Or maybeâŠ.you just donât want to talk about it, per se.â
You glared at him, but he kept going, grinning like a cat who had caught a mouse. âBesides, if Megumi ever needs someone to keep him grounded, who better than you? Youâd definitely shake up his boring, quiet life. He likes color too, you know. Heâs justâŠmore somber about it. You know how he is!â
You groaned and flopped back down on the couch, hiding your face again. âI donât even know if he likes me, okay? Heâs probably never looked at me that way before or ever, and Iâm just⊠me. What if he thinks Iâm annoying?â
Satoru rolled his eyes dramatically. âPlease. Everyone thinks youâre annoying, and they still like you.â He dodged another pillow you threw at him and continued, âBesides, Megumi doesnât hang out with people unless he likes them. Have you ever seen him willingly spend time with anyone else besides me? Or Kugisaki or Itadori?â
You blinked. That was a good point. Megumi did spend a lot of time with youâmore than with most other people. But stillâŠ
âYou think so?â you mumbled, feeling a glimmer of hope creep in.
Satoru gave you a soft smileâan unusually sincere expression for him. âYeah, I do. And even if heâs not into it right now, anyone who canât appreciate you for who you are is an idiot. Youâre a catch, even if you do throw pillows like a five-year-old.â
You snorted, wiping at your eyes. âThanks, I guess?â
âAnytime, little sis!â Satoru said, leaning back and tossing another piece of popcorn into his mouth. âNow, if youâre done complaining, letâs figure out how you can subtly drop-kick your way into Megumiâs heart.â
You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway. âIâm not drop-kicking him.â
âToo bad. It wouldâve been fun to watch.â
âYouâre so annoying, I hate you.â
He grinned. âNo you donât!â
HE WISHED HE WASNâT SUCH A KLUTZ ABOUT THIS. Fushiguro Megumi sat there, staring at his phone screen, his thumb hovering over the âsendïżœïżœ button like it was some kind of bomb he wasnât ready to detonate.
He had typed the message about ten times, erased it nine, and now, here he was, sweating over the tenth. All he needed to do was press send. Thatâs it. Just one tap, and heâd finally take a step toward telling you how he really felt.
But, as usual, his mind spiraled with doubts.
What if she doesnât feel the same? What if this ruins everything? What if sheâs just being nice to me because of Satoru?
He groaned, running a hand over his face. Why was this so hard? He could face curses, fight dangerous opponents, and handle life-or-death situations without batting an eye. But when it came to you, his brain turned into a tangled mess of uncertainty.
His internal crisis was interrupted by a loud knock on his door.
âFuuuuuuushiiiiiiiguuuuuuuuroooooo! You in there?â Yujiâs voice rang out cheerfully. Before Megumi could even respond, the door swung open, and Yuji and Nobara barged in, grinning like they had just walked in on something juicy.
âWhaâwhat are you two doing here?â Megumi stammered, quickly locking his phone and shoving it into his pocket, hoping they hadnât seen anything.
âWhatcha hiding?â Nobara asked immediately, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. She crossed her arms and gave him a look like she was about to crack a case wide open.
âNothing.â Megumi said too quickly, which only made Yuji and Nobara more curious.
Yuji flopped onto the bed, making himself at home. âCome on, Fushiguro! You look like you were about to do something important.â He raised his eyebrows suggestively. âSomething to do with a girl maybe?â
Megumi felt the tips of his ears go red. âWhat? No! Itâs nothing.â
âOh my god, heâs blushing!â Nobara exclaimed, smirking like a cat whoâd caught a mouse. She nudged Yuji. âYou know what that means.â
Yuji nodded sagely. âYup. Itâs definitely about a girl.â
Nobara laughs. âOh, but not just any girl! You knowâŠ.Gojoâsenseiâs sister?â
âWait!â Yujiâs eyes widened as Megumi looked away, the blush turning even more bright. âFushiguro? Gojoâsenseiâs sister!?â
Megumi groaned, feeling his face heat up even more. He could never hide anything from these two. It was like they had some kind of embarrassing moment radar. âNo, itâs not! Leave it alone already!â
âAhaâŠâŠâ Nobaraâs eyes sparkled with mischief. âItâs about Gojo Satoruâs sister, isnât it? Youâre so obvious about this!â
Megumi nearly choked on air. âWhaâno! I meanâŠâŠâ He trailed off, realizing that he was only digging himself deeper into a hole. âItâs notâŠItâs not what you think it is!â
âOh my god, it is!â Nobara practically squealed. âYou like her, donât you?â
Yuji was grinning from ear to ear now, thoroughly enjoying Megumiâs suffering. âI knew it! Youâre always all flustered around her.â
âI am not flustered. I am notâŠ.â Megumi muttered, looking away, which only made him look more flustered. âThis is too much from you two!â
âDude, you are so flustered, right now!â Yuji said, laughing. âItâs okay! You should just tell her how you feel.â
Megumi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. âItâs not that easy.â
âWhy not?â Nobara asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation. âYouâre both into each other. I mean, she practically looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. Whatâs the problem?â
Megumi blinked, caught off guard. âShe⊠does?â
Nobara rolled her eyes. âDuh. How are you this dense? Itâs so obvious! Sheâs always laughing at your jokes, even when theyâre not funny.â
âHey!â Megumi protested weakly.
âAnd sheâs always finding excuses to be around you,â Yuji added. âPlus, the way she looks at you when she thinks no oneâs watching? Come on, man, sheâs into you.â
Megumi felt a flicker of hope, but his doubts crept back in. âBut what if Iâm wrong? What if I ruin things between us?â
Yuji and Nobara exchanged a look before turning back to him.
âYo, Fushiguro!â Yuji said, clapping him on the shoulder. âYou canât spend your whole life worrying about what ifs. Just tell her. Worst case, things get a little awkward, but knowing her, she wonât let that happen.â
Nobara nodded. âAnd honestly, with how close you two already are, Iâd bet money that sheâs waiting for you to make the first move.â
Megumi let their words sink in, the knot of anxiety in his chest loosening just a little. Maybe they were right. Maybe he was overthinking everything. After all, youâd been dropping hints for a while now, hadnât you? The lingering glances, the way you always seemed to gravitate toward him in a room full of peopleâŠ
He pulled his phone back out, staring at the unsent message again.
Yuji peeked over his shoulder. âOoh, you were gonna text her? Whatâre you waiting for? Send it!â
Nobara nodded eagerly. âDo it, do it, do it!â
With a deep breath, Megumi finally pressed send.
âHey. Are you free tomorrow? Letâs talk.â
He tossed his phone onto the bed and slumped back against the wall, exhaling like heâd just run a marathon.
Nobara grinned triumphantly. âSee? That wasnât so hard.â
âYeah.â Megumi muttered, though his heart was still racing. Now all he had to do was wait for your reply.
Yuji and Nobara, clearly pleased with themselves, exchanged a high-five. âMission accomplished!â Yuji declared, grinning.
Megumi rolled his eyes but couldnât help the small smile tugging at his lips. Maybe this wasnât going to be so bad after all.
The moment Megumi pressed send, his stomach dropped. What had he just done? Now there was no going back. He couldnât unsend the message, couldnât take back the quiet confession it represented. All he could do was wait for your response.
Yuji and Nobara were still grinning like a pair of mischievous siblings who had just successfully pulled off a prank. Megumi, on the other hand, was wondering if he should just bury himself in his bed and never come out.
âSoâŠ.....â Yuji leaned in, his eyes wide with excitement. âWhat now? You think sheâs gonna reply right away? Maybe sheâs been waiting for this all along!â
Nobara snickered. âI bet sheâs freaking out right now, staring at her phone like, âOh my god, THE Fushiguro Megumi finally texted me to talk. What do I do?!ââ She mimicked a dramatic swoon, nearly falling off the chair, which only made Yuji burst out laughing.
âWould you two stop?â Megumi groaned, pulling a pillow over his face in an attempt to block out their teasing. His ears were still burning, and the last thing he needed was them making it worse.
âCome on, man! This is exciting!â Yuji said, playfully tugging the pillow away. âYouâve probably been into her for ages! Didnât you guys meet as kids? And now youâre finally doing something about it! You should be happy!â
Megumi peeked out from behind the pillow, his expression somewhere between annoyance and anxiety. âYeah, or I could be about to make the most embarrassing mistake of my life.â
Nobara rolled her eyes. âUgh, seriously? Youâre not gonna make a mistake, Megumi. Trust me. That girl is totally into you.â
âYeah. Pretty obvious to us.â Yuji added, âif you could see how she looks at you, you wouldnât be worrying about this.â
Megumi hesitated, feeling a small flicker of hope again. Could it really be true? Did you look at him the same way he looked at you? He was usually pretty good at reading people, but when it came to you, his emotions seemed to get in the way, clouding his judgment.
His phone buzzed, and all three of them froze.
Yujiâs eyes widened. âThatâs her, isnât it?!â
Nobara practically lunged for the phone. âOpen it, open it, open it!â
Megumiâs heart skipped a beat as he grabbed the phone, hands suddenly shaky. He unlocked it, and there it wasâyour reply.
Hey, yeah, Iâm free tomorrow. Whatâs up?
It was simple, nothing out of the ordinary, but to Megumi, it felt like the weight of the world had just lifted off his shoulders. You didnât sound nervous or weirded out. You just⊠replied. As if this was the most normal thing in the world.
He exhaled, not realizing he had been holding his breath.
âWell? Whatâd she say?â Nobara leaned in, practically on the edge of her seat.
âShe said sheâs free.â Megumi muttered, trying to sound casual, but the small smile tugging at his lips gave him away.
âOh, look at him!â Yuji teased, nudging Megumi with his elbow. âHeâs smiling! Megumi, man, youâre whipped.â
Megumi shot him a look. âIâm not whipped.â
âYeah, you are.â Nobara said with a smirk. âAnd honestly? Itâs kinda cute. I never thought Iâd see the day when you, of all people, would get all flustered over a girl.â
Megumi rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. âCan you two go now?â
âFine, fine.â Nobara stood up, stretching her arms above her head. âBut remember, if you mess this up, weâre totally going to say, âI told you so.ââ
Yuji chuckled, giving Megumi a thumbs-up as they headed for the door. âGood luck, lover boy.â
âDonât call me that.â Megumi grumbled, but there was no real bite to his words. He was too relieved, too nervous, and, if he was honest with himself, a little excited.
As the door closed behind them, Megumi sat back down on the bed, staring at your message. His heart was still racing, but this time, it wasnât just from nerves. There was something elseâhope. Maybe, just maybe, this would turn out okay.
He typed out a quick response.
Cool. Letâs meet after training? I want to talk.
And with that, he tossed the phone onto the bed again, burying his face in his hands.
What am I even going to say? He had no idea, but tomorrow was coming whether he was ready or not.
Little did he know, you were sitting in your room, staring at your own phone, your heart racing just as fast.
AND SO IT HAPPENED. It was a crisp, sunny afternoon when you found yourself standing under the canopy of sakura trees, the pale pink petals drifting lazily to the ground. Everything about the moment was making you feel queasy, like your stomach was doing flips. Why was this making you feel so sick? Why was your heart pounding like this? You could still feel the heat from your nervous sweat, which only made it worse. How is feeling so much love making you feel like you were going to die? You hated this. You really hated this.Â
Your elder brother, Satoru, had this knack for making every situation simultaneously better and worse. Walking beside you, he was grinning like he knew something you didnât, that classic, cocky smirk plastered across his face.
âGood luck, little sis!â he teased, ruffling your hair like you were a kid. âIâm sure Megumiâs gonna love whatever awkward thing youâre about to say.â
You shot him a glare, your nerves bubbling up with his every word. âYouâre not helping.â
âWho said I was trying to help?â He winked, clearly enjoying your suffering. You glared at him. âIâm just here for moral support... and to watch you squirm.â
âThanks.â you muttered, the sarcasm dripping from your voice.
Satoru laughed, clapping you on the back. âCome on, itâs Megumi. Heâs practically family. Whatâs the worst that could happen? He rejects you? Nah, youâll be fine.â
you wished your brother didnât have Infinity, just so you could land a good punch on him. Now, standing there, nerves making you feel like backing out entirely, you glanced at him one more time.
To your surprise, his teasing smirk faded, replaced with concern. "Hey, hey, donât cry!" He waved his hands in front of you frantically. "I was joking! I didnât mean to make you upset."
"It wasnât funny!" you snapped, blinking rapidly as the threat of tears welled up. Why did he always have to push your buttons?
Satoru looked genuinely worried for a second, which was rare. "Okay, okay, listen..." His tone softened, a little less of that cocky edge. "If Megumi doesnât like you back, thatâs okay. Thereâs plenty of people who will love you better, alright? Genuinely."
You sniffed, still feeling that tight knot of anxiety in your chest. "Yeah, right."
"I mean it," he insisted, stepping closer and placing a hand on your shoulder. âYour good ol' big brother is one of them, okay? Youâll always be loved, doll. Youâve got me, forever. No oneâs ever gonna change that.â
You sighed, rolling your eyes but feeling a bit better, even if his logic was as goofy as always. "Still doesnât make this any less terrifying, you know."
Satoru chuckled, ruffling your hair again. "Well, if all else fails, you can come hide behind me. Infinityâs good for that too, you know!"
By the time he finally left you alone, after throwing in one last, âDonât mess it up, though!â you were already sweating. Actually sweating. Harder than ever before.
"Great. Just great." you grumbled to yourself, imagining all the possible ways this could go wrong. âLove sucks! This sucks!â
But sooner or later, you knew you would have to face it. And so you waited for Megumi. You waited patiently as you created stupid little scenarios in your head â things that shouldnât even be.Â
And after about fifteen minutes, here you were, facing Fushiguro Megumi, your heart pounding so loudly you were certain he could hear it. He stood a few feet away, hands buried deep in his pockets, staring intently at the ground as though it held the answers to lifeâs greatest mysteries.
Is he nervous too? you wondered. Somehow, that thought gave you the slightest sense of relief, but only for a fleeting moment. The truth was, you hadnât been able to focus on anything since this morning, and now that you were actually standing in front of him, the anxiety was threatening to spill over.
Megumiâs hair, slightly ruffled by the breeze, caught your attention. His gaze remained fixed downward, his usual calm, almost brooding expression in place, but something about the way his shoulders were tense told you he wasnât as composed as he seemed.
"IâŠ" You started, your voice catching in your throat. Great, now you are losing your nerve.
Megumiâs eyes flickered toward you, his expression unreadable but curious. He waited, his silence urging you to continue, even though the words seemed to have tangled themselves up inside your head.
You tried again, taking a small breath, "I donât really know how to say this without sounding like an idiot."
He shifted slightly, his eyes finally lifting to meet yours. âYouâre not an idiot.â he said softly, though the hint of amusement in his voice wasnât lost on you. âYou arenât one. NeverâŠnever have been.â
He looked⊠nervous? Which made you feel a little better, since you were pretty sure youâd forgotten how to breathe about five minutes ago.
Alright, you thought, trying to psych yourself up. Youâre just going to confess. Itâs simple. People do it all the time! You can do this. Itâs Megumiâyour Megumi.
Except now that you were actually standing in front of him, your brain decided to throw you a curveball. What if⊠what if he doesnât like tall, petite girls?
You winced at the thought. Megumi was tall and handsome, and here you were, small, like a walking marshmallow. What if he preferred someone else, someone who needs his help? Does he like girls who seem to be more dependent on him? What if he liked girls with long, model-like legs? Wait, I donât have those sort of legs! I have an athleteâs legs, but thinner! Oh my godâŠI, am I his type? Or worse, what if you were just a friend to him?
Before you knew it, words were tumbling out of your mouth.
âUm⊠Megumi?â you started, your voice way too high-pitched to sound cool. âThereâs something I need to say.â
Megumi glanced up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly in that focused way he had. Your face felt like it was on fire. âYeah?â he said, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity.
You hesitated, suddenly regretting every decision youâd made that day. But you couldnât back out now. You were already knee-deep in awkwardness.
âI know Iâm, like⊠not like all the other girls or anything. Not to mention, I'm loud and awkward and just....â You winced as you said it. You feel your cheeks getting redder by the second. âAnd maybe⊠maybe you like taller girls or maybe more chic girls? Like, you know, girls with long model legs who look good in anything. Or at least girls who donât have to deal withâŠ.you know, IâŠ.I donât know. But I justâŠ.â
Megumi blinked at you, his eyes widening slightly as the words sunk in. For a moment, you thought youâd really messed upâlike he might just walk away or start laughing. But then, something unexpected happened.
His face turned an alarming shade of red, and he blurted, âW-What? No! Thatâs notâ I donât care about any of that!â His voice cracked slightly, and you could tell he was flustered. Megumi. Flustered. Your heart did a weird little flip at that.
âI like you⊠exactly how you are. I donât care if you haveâŠif you have athlete legs and not model legs.â he said, quieter this time, as if saying it any louder would somehow make it harder for him. His eyes darted to the side, but you could see the sincerity there. âI⊠donât care if youâre short or tall or⊠whatever.â His blush deepened as he added, âYouâre⊠perfect.â
It took a second for your brain to catch up to what he was saying. Waitâhe thought you were perfect? Did you⊠did you hear that right?
You opened your mouth, but all you managed was a strangled, âOh.â Which was, you know, super eloquent. Good job, me.
Megumi shifted on his feet, still avoiding your gaze. âI thoughtâŠâ he started, his voice so low you almost didnât catch it, âthat you didnât like me because Iâm⊠well, you know.â He made a vague gesture with his hand.
You stared at him, confused. âBecause youâre⊠what?â
His expression was a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, like he really didnât want to explain, but felt like he had to. âBecause Iâm⊠brooding. Iâm notâŠI know Iâm not the most fun of people to be around. And I justâŠ.I know itâs also hard to talk to me. And I'm way too quiet, I don't talk for hours sometimes.â he muttered. He cleared his throat and added. âIâm not exactly the most⊠open or easygoing person. I figured youâd probably want someone whoâs more⊠fun.â
You blinked. âFun? Megumi, you think I donât like you because youâre⊠broody?â
He shrugged, still looking like he wanted to disappear into the nearest bush. âI mean⊠yeah.â
You couldnât help itâyou burst out laughing. Megumiâs eyes snapped back to you, looking completely baffled, as if he hadnât expected that reaction at all.
âNo way!â you said, still giggling as you wiped a tear from your eye. âThatâs one of the things I like about you!â
His eyebrows furrowed. âWait⊠what?â
âYouâre serious and quiet!â you explained, your heart softening as you looked at him. âBut youâre also kind. And you care so much about everyone, even if you donât show it the way other people do. I think itâsâŠâ you swallowed, suddenly shy again, â...really cute, actually.â
Megumiâs expression softened in a way that made your chest ache. He looked like he didnât quite believe what he was hearing but was too relieved to question it. "Oh."
"Yeah...."
âSo⊠you like me?â he asked, his voice a little hesitant, like he was afraid the answer might change if he said it out loud.
You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up again. âYeah⊠I do.â
There was a beat of silence where neither of you moved, both too flustered to figure out what came next. The sakura petals continued to fall around you, and for a moment, it felt like you were in a scene straight out of a cheesy romance.
âAnd you⊠like me?â you ventured, your heart thumping hard.
Megumi looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, but you could see the tiniest smile playing on his lips. âYeah.â he muttered. âA lot.â
You stood there for a while, both of you blushing like tomatoes, staring at anything but each other. But somehow, despite the awkwardness, it felt perfectâlike youâd finally figured out what had been right in front of you all along.
âMaybe we should, um⊠go get something to eat?â you suggested, trying to break the tension before you spontaneously combusted from embarrassment.
âYeah.â Megumi agreed, a little too quickly. âFood. Good idea.â
You started walking, side by side, still too nervous to hold hands or do anything couple-like, but grinning like idiots whoâd finally realized how much you liked each other. You'll be okay, together.
epilogue
The cafĂ© near Jujutsu High was cozy, with soft lighting and the faint hum of conversations from other patrons filling the space. Megumi and I sat across from each other, still awkward but smiling. The post-confession giddiness hadnât worn off, and every now and then, our eyes would meet, followed by a quick blush and looking away.
I nervously poked at my dessert with my fork, stealing glances at Megumi, who was doing a pretty good job pretending to focus on his coffee. I should say something, I thought, but before I could open my mouth, a loud, familiar voice shattered the peaceful atmosphere.
"Well, well, well! What do we have here? My adorable little sister and Fushiguro Megumi! On a date! How cute!"
I whipped my head around, and there he wasâGojo Satoru, in all his obnoxiously tall, grinning glory, standing at the entrance of the cafĂ© like he owned the place. His trademark sunglasses were perched on his nose, and he had his phone in hand, ready for whatever chaos he was about to unleash.
Megumi groaned and slouched down in his seat, his face flushing a deep shade of red. "Why are you here?"
"Oh, just taking a casual stroll around campus when I happened to spot you two. And, being the fantastic older brother I am, I couldnât resist stopping by to see whatâs going on."
I sighed, knowing full well this was about to get much worse. "Satoru-niiâŠplease donât."
But Gojo Satoru was already snapping pictures of us with his phone, zooming in obnoxiously on both of our embarrassed faces. âOh, these are perfect. You both look so adorable! I canât wait to send these to Yuji, Nobara, and the rest of the gang.â
Megumiâs hand shot up in protest. âStopââ
Too late. Gojo Satoruâs fingers flew over his phone screen as he quickly shared the photos. I could already imagine the messages popping up in the group chat: Yuji losing his mind with excitement, Nobara teasing Megumi, and the second and third years chiming in with their own commentary.
âSatoru-nii!â I whisper-shouted, trying to keep my voice low enough not to draw the attention of the other cafĂ©-goers. âYou promised no embarrassing photos!â
Gojo just grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. âHey, you didnât say anything about dates. Besides, this is for posterity. Your first date with the brooding Megumi! Awww, itâs like watching a baby deer trying to walk for the first time. My future brother in law and my sisterâs first date! Oh this will be cute in the wedding powerpoint!â
Megumi looked like he wanted to crawl under the table, and honestly, I wasnât too far behind. I glanced at him, feeling bad for dragging him into this chaos. âGojoâsensei, we arenâtâŠ.Thatâs notââ
âSay cheese!â
But then, something unexpected happened. Maybe it was Gojoâs teasing, or maybe it was just the ridiculousness of the whole situation, but I felt a sudden surge of boldness. I scooted my chair a little closer to Megumi, leaned into him slightly, andâjust to spite Satoruârested my head on his shoulder.
Megumi stiffened at first, his body going rigid in surprise, but after a second, I felt him relax. He glanced down at me, and despite his still-flushed cheeks, there was a soft smile tugging at his lips. He didnât say anything, but the way he subtly leaned into me in return spoke volumes.
Gojo, of course, gasped dramatically. âOhhhh! Look at you two! All cozy now! This is too precious, Iâm dying.â
âYouâre gonna be dying for real if you donât stop.â Megumi muttered, though he didnât sound as angry as he usually did. He seemedâŠhappy, even if he wouldnât admit it. And honestly, that made me smile too.
Gojo, ever the drama queen, pretended to clutch his heart. âMy little Megumi, all grown up and in love! My precious little sister, grown and down bad! This is truly a day to remember.â He took another picture, but at this point, I didnât care. Neither did Megumi.
After what felt like an eternity of Gojoâs teasing, he finally waved us off with a laugh. âAlright, alright, Iâll leave you lovebirds to it. But donât think Iâm letting this go anytime soon! I expect wedding invites, you hear me?â
He sauntered out of the café, phone still in hand, leaving us in peace once again.
I let out a long sigh of relief, finally able to relax. âIâm sorry about him. Heâs⊠well, heâs Satoru.â
Megumi shook his head, still leaning into me a little. âItâs fine. Iâm used to it by now.â
We sat there quietly for a moment, neither of us moving. Despite the embarrassment, I felt a sense of warmth spreading through my chest. Leaning into Megumi, feeling the weight of his shoulder against mine, it was nice. Comforting.
I looked up at him and saw that soft smile again. He wasnât embarrassed anymoreâhe lookedâŠcontent. Maybe even a little happy.
âYou know.......â I said, my voice quiet, smiling. âI think this might be the best date ever.â
Megumi glanced down at me, and for the first time that day, he chuckled softly. âYeah⊠I think so too.â
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#fushiguro megumi#megumi fushiguro#megumi#fushiguro megumi x you#fushiguro megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x you#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi x y/n#megumi x you#megumi x reader#fushiguro x reader#fushiguro x you#fushiguro x y/n#megumi fluff#fushiguro megumi fluff#gojo satoru#itadori yuji#kugisaki nobara#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen megumi#jjk megumi fushiguro#kayu writes ! ! !
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Your Declan fic was SO good. Thatâs how u discovered your account and I canât wait for the other Rivals fics you have coming up!!!
If you are still taking requests, I would die for protective Declan OâHara in any situation. Love your stuff!!
man of the hour.
the sexiest thing about a man is his moustache morals.
declan oâhara x female reader
warnings - cursing. a little violence and a quick injury description.
word count - 2k
authors note - I truly believe that one of the sexiest things about declan is the fact that he stands up for what he believes in⊠donât underestimate the aphrodisiac powers of strong morals, ladies and gents. need him to stand up for me sometimeđ§ââïžââĄïž. anyway this ended up much softer than I meant it to be (which isnât necessarily a bad thing) <3
masterlist. inbox.
âCan I get you another drink?â
You laugh as the man swings an arm around your shoulders, the heavy weight of it almost taking you down.
âYouâve asked me that four times in the last five minutes, Bas. Thank you, though.â
âJust want to make sure youâre having a good time.â
Heâs yelling into your ear, both of you fighting to raise your voices above the noise of Bar Sinister.
âIâm always having a good time with you,â you tease, leaning into his side. âIâm alright, Bas. Promise.â
âYou need to let loose for once in your life.â
âIâll let loose on a day Iâm not working.â
âYouâre always working.â
âWhat can I say? Heâs hard fucking work.â
You both look over to your boss, whoâs currently animatedly telling Declan a story. Rupertâs gesturing so exaggeratedly that people are ducking out of the way, both men laughing and completely oblivious as beer and whiskey splash all over the floor.
Bas presses a kiss into your hair, squeezing you tightly.
âI donât know what heâd do without you.â
âWell, he never has to find out. Weâre stuck with each other,â you chuckle. âBest job Iâve ever had, surprisingly.â
âI wonât tell him you said that,â Bas winks, laughing.
The sound of multiple glasses smashing has the both of you whipping your heads around, trying to find the source of the commotion.
âShit. Iâll see you later, darling. Come and find me if you need anything, yeah?â
âCourse.â
Bas disappears into the bustling crowd, leaving you standing at the bar. Itâs absolutely manic, people packed in to the rafters and bumping into each other left, right and centre.
Youâre about to make your way over to Rupert when a hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you backwards so hard that you stumble over your own feet. You tug your arm away, finally getting a good look at the person whoâs responsible.
âSpencer?â
âOh, so you do remember me then?â
â⊠What? We were together for six months, and I donât have short term memory loss, so⊠yes.â
âI just meant because youâre hanging around with the elite now. The rumour is that youâre working for Rupert Campbell Black.â
âI am working for Rupert Campbell Black. Itâs not a secret, Spencer. Iâm his aide and assistant. Iâm working for Venturer, too, helping with their public relations. And you are⊠what? Still pretending to work for your father when you really just spend your days drinking and betting?â
âI do work for my father.â
âOf course you do.â
He steps forward, getting into your personal space.
âWhat are you doing in here, Spencer? You donât even live in Rutshire.â
âThought Iâd pop in, see if you were here. Wanted to see if there was any truth to the rumours.â
âWell, youâve put the rumours to bed now, havenât you?â
âNot the only thing thatâs been put to bed,â he murmurs, just low enough so you only catch half of it.
âPardon me?â
Your entire body is taut with tension, nerves alert and heart racing. You can only imagine how uncomfortable you must look, praying that someone notices sooner rather than later.
âWhich one are you sleeping with, then?â
âSpencer-â
âNo, come on. You finished things with me, so there must be another man. Who is it?â
âIâm finished things with you - eight months ago, mind you - because youâre an immature prick whoâs so pretentious it makes you deeply unlikeable. There was no other man, Iâd just rather be single than be with you.â
His chest puffs out as he starts to go red with rage, anger bubbling up in his veins. You know that youâre not completely unsafe here in this room full of people, but that doesnât calm your anxiety in the slightest.
âWhich one is it, hmm?â his voice is raising, getting louder with every passing minute. âWhich one looks like your type?â
He points at Seb first, quirking an eyebrow.
âHim?â
When you donât respond, he moves on to pointing at Patrick.
âHim?â
You shake your head almost imperceptibly, wishing that the ground would swallow you up.
âOh my god⊠itâs him, isnât it?â
His eyes have landed on Rupert, whoâs still stood across the room. Your boss is looking at you, now, quickly assessing the situation youâre in.
âYouâre fucking Rupert Campbell Black?!â
The entire crowd of people goes silent as he practically screams it, everyoneâs heads turning to look at you.
âSheâs⊠what?â Rupert, Declan and Bas all ask at the exact same time, hilariously in sync.
âFucked your way up to the top, did you? Classy as always.â
Spencer goes to continue his sentence, but hits the floor suddenly with a heavy thud. You look up to see Declan shaking off his hand, chest heaving with adrenaline. Your ex boyfriend has a busted lip, blood dripping down his chin and onto his awfully unflattering shirt.
âItâs called hard work, you arrogant little prick. Not that youâd know.â
Declanâs Irish accent sounds stronger than usual, coloured with fury and aggression. Bas has dragged Spencer to his feet, both him and Rupert holding him upright.
âIf I ever catch you anywhere near here again, Iâll do more than just split your fucking lip. You understand?â
Spencer nods, clearly still dizzy from the impact of the punch. Heâs dragged outside before anyone can say anything else, the crowd returning back to their drinks as if nothing ever happened.
âCome on, sweetheart.â
Declan links his fingers with yours before you can register whatâs happening, pulling you through the bar and out of the back door. You take a seat on the brick wall, legs dangling over the edge as you kick your feet.
âYou okay?â he asks as he sits down next to you, just close enough that you can feel his body heat.
âIâm fine.â
âSure?â
âIâm sure.â
You donât really know how to feel, confused by the whole ordeal.
âHe seems like a nice boy.â
You laugh suddenly at the bad joke, shaking your head as Declan laughs with you. Itâs not a sound you hear from him all that often.
âSorry you had to punch him.â
âI didnât have to. Kinda wanted to, though.â
âMe too.â
He bumps his shoulder into yours, looking at you carefully.
âI didnât just hit him for a laugh, you know. I was worried he was going to hurt ya.â
âI was too,â you whisper, vulnerability bleeding into your tone.
âIâd never of let that happen. I promise, sweetheart.â
His hand finds yours again, fingers gently sliding in between yours. He rests your intertwined hands on his thigh, thumb rubbing patterns on your skin.
âThank you.â
âOf course.â
You sit in silence for a long moment, enjoying the way the warmth of his palm seeps slowly into yours.
âI didnât think anyone had even noticed Spencer was there.â
âI saw as soon as he walked in, because I knew I didnât recognise him. I tried to give you some space, thought maybe you were friends or something. Didnât want to intervene and embarrass ya.â
âEx boyfriend, if you havenât already guessed. We were only together about six months all in all, about eight months ago. Donât know what I was thinking, really. Heâs fucking awful.â
âYou can say that again,â he chuckles, hand squeezing yours. âNot sure what you ever saw in him.â
âNeither am I, anymore. I donât know, maybe I just liked having someone really like me, as sad as that sounds. Dating is fun and exciting and⊠well, itâs supposed to be. God knows it isnât, for me.â
Declan slides his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side to keep the evening chill at bay. You can hear the ruckus from inside, everyone in the bar carrying on as usual.
âI think you just keep choosing the wrong men, darlinâ. Donât swear off dating just because of a few bad apples.â
âI mean, I havenât dated anyone since Spencer, and that finished eight months ago. Iâd rather stay single than date any more of these posh boys whoâve never worked a day in their lives.â
He laughs, and the vibrations of it rumble through the both of you, settling into your bones. All you can think about is how warm he is and how good he smells and how if you leaned in an inch to your left, you could kiss him right on the cheek.
âWhat if itâs me?â you canât help but ask quietly. âWhat if Iâm the reason I canât find someone?â
âWhat?â
âI mean, I work for Rupert - which I love - but my job is my life now. Heâs a handful as it is, and now with all the Venturer stuff⊠all I do is work. And I know Iâm not pretty like Taggie or powerful and bossy like Cameron but-â
âYouâre beautiful.â
Declan stops you in your tracks, his interruption derailing your train of thought completely.
âI- what?â
âSweetheart, the only reason I noticed that prat Spencer earlier was because I was already looking at you.â
âYou were?â
âI always am.â
â⊠Why?â
âI donât know, exactly. Itâs like this⊠gravitational pull. You light up a room.â
âThatâs a bit dramatic,â you chuckle nervously.
âI wish it was.â
You donât know what to say, so you lean further into his side, resting your head on his broad shoulder and breathing him in.
âI would have said something sooner,â he murmurs, âbut Rupert would fucking kill me.â
âHeâs not my keeper, Declan.â
âNo, but heâs your boss. And for all intents and purposes, your big brother.â
He rests his head atop of yours, pressing a kiss into your hair.
âHowâs your hand?â
âPerfectly fine,â he laughs, squeezing your thigh. âIâll make a full recovery.â
âThank God for that.â
Declan turns his body so he can look at you properly, big hands coming up to cradle your face. Neither of you say anything, waiting with tense anticipation for the other person to move first.
You surprise yourself by leaning in and planting a kiss on his lips, chaste and testing the waters. You begin to overthink everything the minute you pull back, worried that youâve misread his kindness. As if he can read your mind, he tangles a hand into your hair and tugs you back into him, kissing you with a passion youâve never experienced before.
His tongue slips into your mouth cheekily as you let him take the lead, happy to surrender the control to him. Youâve dreamt about this, late nights in bed spent wondering if the real thing would live up to your imagination. It definitely does.
Eventually, you both pull away, panting and flushed. You can no longer feel the chill in the air, the warmth of Declan keeping the cold at bay.
âDonât tell Rupert,â he whispers, dirty smirk written across his face.
You canât help but laugh, giddy off of the weight of the moment. Before tonight, youâd begun to accept that you might have been slightly delusional when it came to Declan - reading into his fingers brushing yours when you handed him something, him winking at you across the room, his palm pressing into your back as he walked past. Now you know - it wasnât delusion. They were signals.
âWouldnât dream of it. Secretâs safe with me.â
He pecks your lips again quickly before standing up, outstretching his hands for you to grab so he can pull you with him.
âYou wanna go back inside?â
âNo, think Iâm done for the night.â
âWill you let me walk you home?â
You look at him smiling down at you all soft and sweet, and realise instantly that youâre in trouble. This isnât something either of you are going to be able to just brush past. Thisâll be haunting both of your memories every single day until it happens again.
âIâd like that.â
âCome on then, sweetheart. Lead the way.â
Declan links his fingers with yours, happy to let you steer him in the right direction. Neither of you say much. You donât need to.
The way his palm fits perfectly against yours tells you both everything you need to know.
@lostinthefandoms11 @prettycoolgirl @buzzcutlip
donât make me give the reblogs are invaluable to your writers speech again⊠iâve given it one too many times⊠but you know the deal⊠reblog if you enjoyed and I shall write more for you <3
#declan oâhara#declan oâhara fluff#declan oâhara x reader#declan oâhara imagine#declan oâhara smut#declan oâhara x reader smut#declan oâhara x reader fluff#rivals smut#rivals x reader#rivals x reader smut#declan oâhara x you#declan oâhara x female reader#rivals fanfiction#rivals fic#rivals imagine#rivals 2024#aidan turner#rupert campbell black#rupert campbell black x reader#rupert campbell black imagine
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Entwined Realms || Legolas
Summary: Request: So I thought about this idea with Legolas x reader where the reader is the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn (which makes her princess of Lothlorien and a very high elf) and she is nervous because its commonly known that Galadriel and Thranduil dont like each other (she is still his superior but you get the point) and the reader and Legolas have a dinner or some council or something together with their parents.
A/N: This was one of my favs to write. Just love everything LOTR... please keep them coming! Thank you for the request @lillisummers
Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader
Word Count: 4.1k +
TW: Talks of war/death
In the timeless realm of LothlĂłrien, you, the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn, walked among the golden trees with a heavy heart filled with the weight of ancient grudges. It had been many years since you last tread upon these familiar paths, for you had spent much of your time in Rivendell, aiding in the healing of those who bore the scars of war.
As a princess of the high elves, you bore the burden of your lineage with grace. Yet the tension between your mother and Thranduil, the Elvenking of Mirkwood, weighed heavily upon you. The animosity between them was no secret, and you often found yourself caught in the midst of their disagreements. You were torn between loyalty to your mother and the desire for unity among your people after the war of the ring. Your return to LothlĂłrien had been sudden, called back by your father during the darkest days of the war. The news of battles raging across middle earth had filled you with dread. Yet, you knew that your place was by your family's side, lending whatever aid you could in the struggle against the darkness.
Despite the discord that lingered between your realms you held onto hope, believing in the power of unity to overcome adversity. The memories of Celebrian's capture and torture haunted you still. She drove your determination to see an end to the suffering that had plagued your people for so long.
As you walked beneath the golden canopy of the trees, you found solace in the familiar sights and sounds of LothlĂłrien. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the branches. They spoke to you of peace and beauty, reminding you of all that was worth fighting for in this world. Your steps carried you towards a familiar spot. The quiet glade where the gravestones of those fallen in battle lay. The air was hushed. The only sound was the soft whisper of leaves and the gentle trickle of water from the nearby streams.
Stopping by the gravestones, you traced your fingers over each weathered stone, feeling the weight of loss settle upon your heart. Here, beneath the earth, lay the brave souls who had given their lives in service of a greater cause. A cause that you had fought for alongside them. Your thoughts turned to Haldir, the gallant Marchwarden who had stood by your side in the darkest of times. His laughter, his kindness, his unwavering loyalty⊠they were memories that you held dear, memories that would live on long after he had passed from this world. At one point you were convinced you would marry him but that was before he was taken so suddenly from you.
Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself a moment of silence. A moment to remember those who had been taken from you too soon. Their faces flashed before your eyes, friends, fighters, and loved ones alike. Each one leaving behind an indelible mark upon your soul. And yet, amidst the sorrow, there was also hope. Hope for a future where their sacrifices would not be in vain. Where the darkness would be banished for good and the light would shine so brightly once more. With a silent prayer upon your lips, you vowed to carry their memory with you always, to honor their legacy in all that you did.
As you stood amidst the gravestones, lost in memories and reflections, a soft voice broke through the silence. She was calling your name. You turned to see your mother, Galadriel, approaching with a gentle smile upon her lips. Her eyes, always so wise and knowing, held a depth of understanding that eased the ache in your heart.
"Y/n," she said, her voice like the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind, "I have been searching for you. It is good to see you home again. You look well my love."
You returned her smile, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you at the sight of her familiar face. "It is good to be home, Mother," you replied, stepping forward to embrace her.
Galadriel held you close, tight. Her arms a reassuring embrace amidst the turmoil of emotions swirling within you. "You have been missed, my dear," she said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
As you pulled away, Galadriel's gaze softened. Her eyes filled with a mixture of pride and affection. "There is much to discuss," she said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "But first, I have news that I believe will bring you much joy."
Curiosity piqued, you listened as Galadriel spoke of the upcoming marriage between your niece, Arwen, and Aragorn, the King of Gondor. The news filled you with a sense of anticipation, the prospect of a wedding bringing a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that had shrouded middle earth for so long. "I would be honored to attend," you said. Your heart swelling with love for your family and excitement for the joyous occasion to come.
Galadriel smiled, her eyes sparkling with pride. "I had no doubt that you would," she said, her voice tinged with warmth. "Come, let us return to Caras Galadhon and begin preparations. There is much to do, and little time to waste." She motioned you to follow her.
With a nod of agreement, you fell into step beside your mother. It felt as though the weight of grief and loss lightened by the promise of love and celebration on the horizon. As you walked the golden light of LothlĂłrien illuminated your path guiding you towards a future filled with possibility.
Too quickly the day of celebration arrived. The grand halls of Minas Tirith were adorned with banners and flowers, filling the air with a sense of festivity and anticipation. You, dressed in your finest elven attire, mingled with the guests. Your heart was aflutter with excitement and nerves for your niece and the King of Gondor. Amidst the bustling crowd, your eyes scanned the faces of those gathered taking in the sight of strangers and acquaintances alike. And then your gaze met that of a mysterious elven stranger across the ornate courtyard who you did not recognize.
His eyes were a captivating shade of blue. They held a warmth and kindness that drew you in, sending a shiver down your spine. For a brief moment it felt as though the world around you had faded away leaving only you and this enigmatic stranger in a universe of your own making. But as quickly as the moment had come, it was gone. Broken by the sound of laughter and music drifting through the air you tore your gaze away. Your cheeks flushed with a mixture of curiosity and excitement, heart racing with the memory of that brief but electrifying encounter.
Though you knew not who he was, nor what fate had in store for you. You couldn't shake the feeling that this chance meeting was somehow significant. And as you allowed yourself to be swept away by the joyous festivities you couldn't help but wonder about the identity of the mysterious elven stranger who had captured your attention with a single glance.
As the celebration unfolded you found yourself standing beside Arwen, basking in the glow of her happiness as she greeted guests and well-wishers. The air was filled with laughter and music. The joyous atmosphere infectious as people celebrated the union of Arwen and Aragorn. But amidst the revelry your attention kept drifting back to the beautiful blonde elf who had caught your eye earlier. He stood amidst a group of guests, his presence commanding and his gaze holding a quiet intensity that seemed to draw you in.
Unable to contain your curiosity any longer you turned to Arwen with a hint of nervousness in your voice. "Arwen," you began, pointing subtly towards the mysterious elf, "who is that?"
Arwen followed your gaze, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she noticed your interest in the stranger. "Ah, him," she said, her tone tinged with mystery. "That is Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood."
Legolas. The name echoed in your mind. Though you knew little about him there was something about the way he carried himself, the way his eyes seemed to hold a thousand untold stories that intrigued you beyond measure. As Arwen spoke of Legolas' exploits and noble deeds you found yourself captivated by the tales of his courage and valor. And though you knew it was foolish to be so taken with a stranger, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to him. Something that called to you on a level you couldn't quite understand.
With a grateful smile you thanked Arwen for indulging your curiosity. Though your mind was already consumed with thoughts of the mysterious Prince of Mirkwood. And as you turned your attention back to the festivities you couldn't help but wonder what secrets lay hidden beneath the surface of the captivating blonde elf who had captured your attention with a single glance.
As the evening wore on, the atmosphere grew more relaxed. You found yourself drawn into the lively conversations and laughter that filled the air.
As if he had known your every thought, he had come right up to you. A charming smile playing on his lips as he offered you a goblet of wine. "Care for some wine, my lady?" he asked, his voice smooth and all too inviting.
Grateful for the distraction you accepted the goblet with a smile, the cool liquid soothing the nerves that had been fluttering in your stomach. "Thank you," you replied, taking a sip and relishing the taste of the rich, fruity wine.
As you savored the wine, Legolas took a seat beside you. His eyes alight with curiosity as he extended his hand in introduction. "I am Legolas," he said, his tone warm and genuine. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
You felt a rush of excitement at the sound of his name, "And I am Y/n," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness that you quickly tried to mask.
Legolas smiled warmly at you, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he raised his own goblet in a silent toast. "Well then, Y/n, here's to new acquaintances and delightful conversations," he spoke.
As the evening progressed, you found yourself drawn into conversation with Legolas. His easy charm and quick wit putting you at ease. Despite your initial nervousness you soon found yourself laughing and chatting with him as if you had known each other for years. With each passing moment you felt yourself growing more and more enchanted by Legolas. His presence filling you with a sense of warmth and belonging that you hadn't felt in a long time. Not since before your sister had set sail. And as you shared stories and laughter with the captivating Prince of Mirkwood you couldn't help but wonder what adventures lay in store for you both in the days to come.
When the topic turned to your family, you couldn't help but feel a pang of apprehension, unsure of how he would react upon learning the truth. "Your parents must be proud of you," Legolas remarked, his voice sincere as he glanced around at the grandeur of Minas Tirith. "To have a daughter as kind and courageous as you."
You smiled, touched by his words. Though a part of you hesitated to reveal your true lineage. "Thank you, Legolas," you replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "My parents... they are indeed proud, though our family is not without its complexities."
Legolas cocked his head with curiosity shining bright in his eyes. "Complexities?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for his reaction. "My parents are Celeborn and Galadriel," you confessed, watching closely for any sign of recognition or judgment in his expression.
To your surprise, Legolas' eyes widened in genuine surprise, his gaze softening with understanding. "Galadriel," he murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. "The Lady of Light herself. And Celeborn, the Lord of LothlĂłrien."
You nodded, relieved by his reaction. "Yes, though our family is not without its challenges," you admitted, your voice growing quiet. "There are... tensions between my parents and certain others in Middle-earth." You knew he knew, and he knew you knew. The two of you were dancing around your parents disdain for the other.
Legolas' expression grew somber. A shadow passing over his features. "I understand," he said, his tone tinged with empathy. "My own father, Thranduil, can be... difficult at times."
You felt a surge of empathy for Legolas knowing all too well the challenges that could arise from strained familial relationships. "It seems we are not so different after all," you said. A small smile playing at your lips.
Legolas returned your smile, his eyes warm and understanding. "Indeed," he said, his voice gentle. "But perhaps together, we can find a way to bridge the divide between our families."
Touched by his sincerity you could only keep grinning at him like a fool. "I would like that, Legolas," you replied. Your heart swelled with gratitude for the bond that was beginning to form between you.
As the night wore on into the wee hours of the morning you and Legolas found yourselves drawn deeper into each other's company. The hours quickly slipping away unnoticed as you laughed and talked beneath the starlit sky. The connection between you grew stronger with each passing moment. A bond of friendship and understanding blossoming into something deeper and more profound. Unfortunately, the celebration began to wind down. You found yourselves reluctant to part ways. The prospect of saying goodbye filling you with a sense of melancholy. "Perhaps we could extend our stay in Minas Tirith," Legolas suggested, his voice tinged with a hint of worry as if you wouldnât accept. "There is still so much more to see and do. I have not seen this city without war disparaging it."
You nodded eagerly, the idea of spending more time with Legolas filling you with a sense of joy and excitement. "I would like that very much," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "There is still so much more we have yet to see. You distracted me tonight."
And so, you and Legolas remained in Minas Tirith for longer than planned, seizing every opportunity to steal away moments alone together amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. Whether wandering the streets hand in hand or sharing quiet conversations in secluded corners. Each moment spent in Legolas' company felt like a precious treasure, a memory to be cherished for eternity.
As your extended stay in Minis Tirith came to an end the bond between you and Legolas deepened further than you could have imagined. Your hearts intertwining in a dance as old as time itself. One evening beneath the stars after your going away dinner the two of you sat together in the quiet solitude of the gardens, surrounded by the scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of crickets. The words you had been longing to say spilled forth from your lips.
"Legolas," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "there is something I must confess to you." It truly was now or never for you did not know the next time you would see the elf that had captured your heart so quickly.
Legolas turned to you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Yes, Y/n?" he replied, his voice soft and reassuring.
"I know this is quick,â you began, your voice soft and hesitant, "And we tend to do this slow, but I must admit... I really like you. More than a friend would."
You glanced away, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you awaited his response. But when you dared to meet his gaze once more you found Legolas looking at you with a tender smile. His eyes filled with a warmth that mirrored your own feelings.
"Y/n," he said softly, reaching out to gently take your face in his hand, "your honesty means the world to me. I too have come to care for you deeply as well. As more than a friend would."
Your heart soared at his words. A sense of joy flooding through you at the knowledge that your feelings were reciprocated. And as you sat together in the quiet beauty of the gardens you knew that your bond with Legolas was something truly special. It was the beginning of a love story that was just beginning to unfold.
You didnât want the night to end so you kept your wandering through the gardens. "Legolas," you began, your voice tinged with concern, "what do you think about... our families?"
Legolas glanced at you. His gaze thoughtful. "Ah, our esteemed parents," he replied with a wry smile. "Stubborn as ancient oaks and twice as difficult to move."
You couldn't help but laugh at his analogy, feeling a sense of relief at his lighthearted approach to the situation. "Yes, that's one way to put it," you agreed. A smile playing at the corners of your lips.
"But," Legolas continued, his tone turning more serious, "I believe they will come around in time. After all, love has a way of softening even the hardest of hearts."
You nodded feeling a flicker of hope kindling within you. "I hope you're right," you replied, leaning closer to him. "I just want them to see... how much we care for each other."
Legolas placed a comforting arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer to him. "They will, Y/n," he said softly, his voice filled with quiet confidence. "And until then, we'll just have to prove them wrong together."
As your time in Minas Tirith drew to a close, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was time for your parents and Legolas to meet. Despite the tension between your families, you were determined to show them that love knew no bounds, and that their differences could be set aside in the name of happiness.
On the morning that both of you were to depart you knew what you had to do. "Legolas," you began. Your voice tinged with nervousness, "I know it's unconventional, but... what if you and your father were to visit LothlĂłrien?"
Legolas blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by your suggestion. "Visit LothlĂłrien?" he echoed, his brow furrowing in thought. "It's an... intriguing idea, Y/n, but I'm not sure how my father would feel about it."
You nodded, understanding Legolas' reservations. "I know it's a risk," you admitted, "but I believe that if he could experience the beauty and hospitality of LothlĂłrien for himself, he might begin to understand... and perhaps even appreciate our way of life."
Legolas considered your words for a moment before a smile spread across his face. "You may be right, Y/n," he said, his eyes alight with excitement. "Let's extend the invitation to my father and see what he says."
With a renewed sense of hope, you and Legolas set about preparing for Thranduil's visit to LothlĂłrien. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you were determined to show both him and your parents that love could conquer even the deepest of divides. And so, with hearts full of anticipation and determination, you bid farewell to Minas Tirith. You knew that a new chapter of your journey was about to begin.
As Legolas and an initially reluctant Thranduil arrived in LothlĂłrien, the tension between them was palpable. Thranduil's expression was stoic and reserved, while Legolas wore a strained smile who was clearly uncomfortable with the situation. You greeted them warmly, hoping to ease the atmosphere, but even your efforts seemed to fall flat in the face of the lingering animosity between your parents. The initial interactions were awkward only filled with polite but strained conversation and forced smiles.
But as the evening progressed and the wine flowed freely the atmosphere began to shift. Your parents, Thranduil, and Legolas found themselves gradually relaxing in each other's company. The rigid barriers between them slowly melting away under the influence of hope after the war and shared experiences. You watched with a mixture of joy and relief as the tension dissipated, replaced by laughter and genuine conversation. Thranduil who had initially been so guarded found himself opening up. He began to share stories and jokes with Celeborn and Galadriel as if they were old friends.
And Legolas, too, seemed to come alive in the warmth of his fatherâs acceptance. His smile growing more genuine with each passing moment. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders finally allowing him to truly be himself in their presence. He chuckled at one of Thranduil's jokes and clinked glasses with Celeborn, a genuine smile gracing his features.
In the midst of the conversation Legolas turned to you, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Meleth nin," he said softly, his voice filled with utmost warmth.
As Legolas inadvertently uttered the Elvish endearment, my love, the words hung in the air laden with the weight of unspoken emotions. Your heart skipped a beat at his slip-up, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through you.
"Really?" you exclaimed. Your eyes widened with surprise and utmost delight. For a moment you almost forgot that your parents and Legolas' father were present too caught up in the rush of emotion that swept over you.
Legolas blinked, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he realized what he had said in front of the parents. "I... uh, I mean..." he stammered, clearly flustered by your reaction.
But before he could finish, Thranduil let out a soft chuckle. The elvenkingâs eyes twinkling with amusement. "It seems our children are more than just friends," he remarked to your parents. His tone surprisingly light-hearted.
You turned to your parents with a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I guess we should have mentioned that sooner," you admitted feeling a surge of relief as you saw their understanding smiles.
Celeborn and Galadriel exchanged knowing glances before Celeborn spoke up. "Love has a way of revealing itself in unexpected ways," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "We are happy for you both."
Thranduil let out a small chuckle. His eyes crinkling with amusement. "Young love," he said before shaking his head in mock exasperation. "It seems like only yesterday that Legolas was just a boy chasing after butterflies in the woods."
Legolas rolled his eyes playfully at his father's comment. "I assure you, Ada, I have grown up a bit since then," he spoke. His tone teasing but affectionate.
Celeborn chuckled softly his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Indeed," he agreed, his voice warm. "But some things never change." He motioned to you with a knowing grin.
And as the tension melted away completely, replaced by laughter, and shared understanding, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unwavering support of your parents. With their blessing and acceptance, you and Legolas knew that your love story was only just beginning. You were finally destined to have a beautiful and unforgettable journey filled with laughter, joy, and the sweet promise of a future together. You had waited a long time for this. A very long time.
As the night grew deeper and the fire crackled softly, you and Legolas found yourselves immersed in a comfortable silence. The two of you basking in the warmth of each other's presence. Legolas turned to you with a playful glint in his eyes, taking your hand in his. "Well, my dear, it seems the hour grows late," he remarked, his voice soft and warm.
You nodded feeling a surge of affection for the elf beside you. "Yes, it does," you replied, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.
With a gentle tug on your hand Legolas rose to his feet pulling you up with him. "Allow me to escort you to your room," he said. His voice filled with gentle sincerity.
You followed him, the touch of his hand sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. As you reached your door, Legolas turned to you. His eyes sparkling with mischief. "Until next time, meleth nin," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before turning to leave.
A faint blush coated your cheeks at his actions. âUntil next time, meleth nin.â You repeated. You watched him go with a smile playing at your lips as you realized that no matter what adventures lay ahead, you would face them with him. Oh, what a life.
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#legolas x reader#legolas x gimli#legolas x y/n#legolas x you#legolas greenleaf#gimli#legolas#the lord of the rings#legolas x oc#legolas fanfiction#legolas and gimli#legolas fluff#legolas fic#legolas thranduilion#legolas lotr#legolas au#legolas and thranduil#king thranduil#legolas imagine#legolas one shot#legolas oneshot#legolas tharanduilion fluff#king thranduil platonic reader#the fellowship#lord of the rings#the fellowship of the ring#lotr#hobbits#lotr x reader#lotr x you
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don't marry him (quinn hughes x bsf!reader) ⊠. ăâș ă . ⊠. ăâș ă . âŠ
summary: angst, quinn talks reader out of engagement, unrequited love (kinda), reader is a lawyer, lots of flashbacks, italics mean flashbacks, not a single y/n used (yay!) warnings!! anxiety, panic attacks, cursing, intense argument a/n: okay so I rly didn't know what to do with this bc it honestly felt wrong to have him confess his feelings in this moment LMAO so I think I'm def gonna do a pt 2. anyways this was the fic from my drafts that the people voted for so here it is!! hope u enjoy :)
wc: 4.1k
âYou lost.â Quinn said, staring out at the Lake, not making eye contact with you.
âWhat?â You asked, twirling your flashy engagement ring around your finger.Â
Max had come into your life at a time when everything felt uncertain. You were fresh off a series of career setbacks, questioning your worth and your ability to build the future you had always dreamed of. He was steady, charismatic, and above all, ambitious. Qualities you admired and felt you needed to anchor yourself. He made you feel secure in a world that often felt chaotic.
Quinn sighed, turning to face you slightly. âAt life. You lost.â He mumbled out, taking a sip of his beer before turning back to the lake. Your face quickly softened with a hint of sadness.
âI-I didnât lose. Iâm happy and successful.â You said, your tone coming off with a hint of anger.Â
You and Max met at a work conference, one of those overly formal events where you spent half the time pretending to be interested in panel discussions and the other half networking. Max had approached you during a coffee break, his easy confidence setting him apart from the crowd. His suit was perfectly tailored, his smile sharp but not unkind.
Quinn took one look at you, shifting in his seat slightly. âY-YouâŠyou donât want this.â Your heart thumped slightly, cracking your knuckles to drown out the sounds of your own thoughts. âIâm scared for you.âÂ
Maxâs love came with conditions. He valued success above all else, and he expected you to do the same. Work always came first, even if it meant skipping family events or cutting vacations short for a meeting. He didnât understand why you needed to spend time with Quinn, Luke, and Jack.
âQuinn, I love him. You know that.â Your brows furrowed in an attempt to make him understand.Â
The engagement came as a surprise, even to you. It was during a charity gala, one of those glittering events Max thrived in. He had pulled you onto the stage during his speech, getting down on one knee in front of hundreds of people. The ring sparkled under the chandeliers, and the applause was deafening. You had said yes because saying no didnât feel like an option. Not with Maxâs expectant smile, the cameras flashing, and the weight of the moment pressing down on you.
âBut do you like him?â His words sent a shiver down your spine as you continued to fidget with the ring on your finger. The ring that was far too heavy to be wearing constantly, its band made of gold instead of your preferred silver. His words hung in the air, the weight of them sinking in your chest like a stone tossed in the still waters of the lake. His gaze remained fixed ahead, unwavering.
Max wasnât a bad man. He wasnât cruel or unkind. But he didnât see you, not the way Quinn did. He saw your potential, your ambition, but not the person you were when all the noise fell away.
âI-IâŠI donât- of course I like him. What are you getting at?â You stuttered, confused about your own feelings on the matter. Quinn glanced at you with a side eye, taking another swig from his bottle before speaking.
âReally?â He asked, his heart shattering at the sight of tears welling in your eyes. âI see the face you make when he talks. Itâs blank, unreadable. And when he laughs? Your eyes scrunch up like when we would drag you out of bed to get on the boat.â Quinn lets out an uncomfortable chuckle. âYou really want to wake up next to his mustache every morning for the rest of your life?â You roll your eyes, posture slumping.
âDonât make fun of him.â You warned, your voice becoming stern. Quinn bites the inside of his mouth before turning away. âIâm successful, Quinn.â
âYeah-yeah, thatâs great. You have all the fuckinâ money you couldâve wished for.â He huffs out with a sarcastic smile.
âDonât do that. Donât make me sound materialistic-â You crossed your arms, Quinn cutting you off quickly.
âWell itâs kind of hard when all you do is work and work-â His voice raises significantly.
âThis is my dream! If you canât accept the fact that iâm happy-â
âYeah! And youâre so damn caught up in it that you donât have time for us anymore!â He yells, sending you a look of anger. One youâd never seen before. He breathes heavily, trying to calm himself down as he moves to the edge of his seat. His eyes soften when he catches your expression, scared. He sighs reluctantly before he speaks again. âLuke notices the way you brush him off when Max is around. He notices how you never fly out to Jersey to see him and Jack like you used to.â Your breath hitched as Quinnâs words pierced through the air. His voice had calmed, but the raw emotion in his eyes cut deeper than his raised tone ever could. You looked away, not able to face the weight of his gaze, and stared at the rippling water instead. The golden light of the setting sun shimmered on the surface, mimicking the perfection you thought youâd built.Â
âLuke said that?â You whispered, your voice barely audible. A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down, refusing to let it show. You didnât want this, not here, not ever.Â
âYeah.â He replied softly. âJack seeâs it too. They miss you.â Quinn turned his head to face you, your gaze still not meeting his. âI miss you.â You turned to glance at him, tears bubbling as you brushed a strand of hair from your face. You continued playing with your ring, biting your lip to hold the cries.Â
You sniffled, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. âThis is my life. I won.â You croaked out. Quinn sighed, leaning back in his seat as he swirled the beer bottle in his hand.
âWhen we were kids, my Aunt Julia came over to visit us during christmas. Do you remember that?â He asked quietly, catching you off guard in a moment of vulnerability. You nodded your head, continuing to bite your lip. âShe asked all of us- Me, you, Jack, and Luke âWhat do you want to be when you grow up?ââ Your eyes softened quickly, bringing your knees to your chest. âDo you remember what you said?â He asked, his tone empathetic.
âYeah, a lawyer-â
âA mother.â He interrupted. The words hit you like a punch to the chest, knocking the air from your lungs. You froze, staring at Quinn as the memories hit like a tidal wave.
âIâŠI donât remember that.â Your voice barely above a whisper.
Quinn gave you a sad smile, his eyes softening. âYou do. You just donât want to.â He brought the bottle to his mouth, looking out at the lake again. The two of you sat in the thick silence. Quinn, knowing he was winning this conversation and you, overthinking every little moment from the past two years. Tears began to escape your eyes as you stared out at the lake, refusing to look at Quinn. He turned to you, seeing how hard this conversation was for you. He wanted to pull you into him, let you cry into his shoulder until all the pain went away, but that wasnât his job anymore. It was Maxâs. The pain burned deep into Quinnâs chest as he recalled every memory he shared with you at this house. Jumping off the boat together on hot summer days, neighborhood barbecues where you would wear those short little sundresses he liked so much, your first kiss while playing spin the bottle together, and of course every deep conversation you shared on this back deck, in these exact chairs. When he was thirteen, he was sure of the fact that he would marry you. He never expected to be sitting here, watching you fiddle with an engagement ring that he didnât buy.Â
You blinked, wiping the tears from your face as you decided to face your fear of confrontation. âI-If I donât work hard now, I wonât have anything left when I'm old and burnt out.â Quinnâs jaw clenched as he processed your words, his gaze fixed on the lake but his mind clearly elsewhere. He tilted his head back slightly, exhaling through his nose like he was trying to suppress his frustration. Your lip trembled, more tears falling by the second as you looked away.Â
âH-He um-â You paused, taking a long sigh as you looked over at Quinn. âHe says thereâs no time for children in our career.â Quinn whipped his head over to you, his expression softening as he got lost in your words.Â
âHeâs a piece of shit.â Quinn mumbled, shaking his head as he returned his gaze to the lake.Â
You licked your lips as you rolled your eyes. âHeâs not a piece of shit, okay? Heâs a good guy, you just donât know him.â You said, your tone growing in frustration. Quinn looked over to you, mouth open, brows furrowed as if youâd just said the most unbelievable thing.Â
He huffed out a small laugh before returning his eyes to the bottle in his hand. âYouâre fuckinâ delusional.â He let out quietly, taking another sip. You whipped your head to him, your frustration quickly bubbling over.Â
âExcuse me-â
Quinn was quick to interrupt you, his voice raised slightly. âYou heard me. Youâre fucking delusional if you think thatâs love.â He rolled his eyes, looking back at you.Â
You scoffed, licking your bottom row of teeth as you let out an uncomfortable laugh. âYouâre an asshole, you know that?â Your expression had become serious, your tears stopping in their tracks. âThis is love!â Your voice carefully rose in volume. âI fell in love,â You laughed slightly, letting a slight smile escape your lips out of frustration. âYouâre just jealous.âÂ
Quinnâs face turned bright red as he took in your words. He looked down at his lap, then back to you. He bit the inside of his cheek, letting out an uncomfortable chuckle before speaking. âJealous?â He asked, brows furrowed. âMy god, you're so full of yourself sometimes.â He didnât mean that and he knew, but you didnât. You bit your lip, trying to hold back tears as your best friend tore you apart. âYou seriously think iâm jealous of him?â He asked, his voice just below a yell.
âNo, of me!â Quinn froze, his beer bottle mid air as the words echoed between the two of you. âYouâre jealous because I found love and-â
Quinn slammed the bottle on the wooden deck, the sharp sound making you flinch. âDonât.â He snapped, his voice shaking with anger. âDonât twist this into me being the bad guy for giving a shit about you.âÂ
âYou donât give a shit!â You shot back, standing up as your emotions boiled over. âYou just can't stand the fact that iâm not following you around like a fucking puppy anymore!â Quinn stood too, his frame towering over you, but his expression wasnât filled with intimidation. It was filled with raw, unfiltered pain.Â
June 23rd, 2012
Dear diary, today was pretty good. In the morning, Jack and Luke jumped on my bed to wake me up which sucked, but when are they not annoying? Anyways, they dragged me down to the lake for a boat day. We went with their dad and their brother Quinn (my future husband). Jack and Luke were doing this wakeboard surfing thingy so I decided to stay close to Quinn. Heâs just sooo perfect. His hair is amazing and he smells so good. I wanna be his girlfriend like literally so bad but I canât tell if he likes me or not. He held my hand when we jumped in the water which was literally the best thing that has EVER happened to me. Anyways, that was the most important thing that happened today.
âWhat are you reading? You donât read.â Jackâs piercing voice pulled Quinn straight from focus. He quickly turned around, shutting the book immediately.
âNothing uh- just something for school.â He stammered out. Jack furrowed his brows, crossing his arms.Â
âItâs summer.â
âYeah, summer reading.â Only it wasnât summer reading. It was your diary, something personal and private. Quinn was only reading it to find out where you hid the hockey puck you stole, but he stumbled upon a catalog of entries about himself. Do you expect a thirteen year old boy to not read it?Â
âOkay well, dinnerâs in five minutes.â Jack said before spinning on his heel to exit the room. You liked Quinn, like really liked him and now he knows it.
âYou need to think about what you just said.â Quinn said, his voice low. âThink about that and then compare it to every time I talked you through your panic attacks, or every time I picked you up at three in the morning when we were sixteen because you were too drunk to drive home, or every time I offered you a place to stay when your parents were fighting. Then, you can tell me if you think I give a shit or not.â He stared you down, his eyes becoming tense as your bottom lip began to tremble.Â
âI didnât-â
Quinn huffed out his breath, interrupting your speech. âDo you know how hard itâs been to watch you? To see you become someone I donât even recognize anymore?â His voice became stern, raising in volume. âYou donât smile the same way anymore. You donât laugh like you used to!â Your breath hitched, the weight of his words suffocating. You looked down at the ring on your finger, the glittering diamond that once felt like a prize but now felt more like a shackle. âYou think I donât care?â His voice was quiet, but the pain in his voice was unmistakable. âIâve always cared. A-And seeing you like this, wearing that ring, in this life thatâs clearly eating you alive? It kills me.âÂ
You licked your bottom lip, tears spilling down your face as you looked up at him. You swallowed the lump in your throat, letting out a shaky breath as you gathered your thoughts.
âHey, babe. You almost ready?â You heard Maxâs voice shout from the living room as you finished putting your earrings on.Â
âYeah, just a second!â You yelled back, fluffing your freshly blown out hair in the mirror. You took a deep breath as you looked yourself up and down in the dark green bodycon dress that Quinn had gotten you for your 21st birthday. Youâd never put it on, but you assumed it was fitting for a work Christmas party. Was it too much? You thought to yourself as you ran your hands down the sides, seeing that the length was about an inch above your fingertips. You decided it was fine and made your way out of the bedroom, purse in hand as you walked to the living room. Max sat on the couch in his tailored Prada suit, a bit pretentious to wear to a work party. His legs were spread wide as he had one hand on his phone, and the other on the back of the couch. He looked up from the screen to glance at you in your dress. You gave him a soft smile, your shoulders tensing up as he furrowed his eyebrows.Â
âItâs a bit short, donât you think?â He asked as he ran a hand through his blonde hair. You looked down at your dress, then back up at him.Â
âW-Well, I was thinking that a little. Should I change?â Your voice was shaky, filled with nerves at Maxâs disapproval.Â
He shook his head, standing from the couch with his hands in his pockets as he made his way to the door. âNo, no. We're already gonna be late with how long you took to get ready.â
There were little moments like that that clouded your mind as you stood in front of Quinn. Your breathing was shaky, your face now fully engulfed in hot tears as he stared into your eyes. âYou donât get it.â You let out, your voice just barely above a whisper. âIâve spent my whole life trying to find stability. To feelâŠsafe.â Your voice cracked on the last word, and you swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself.Â
âSafe?â Quinn repeated, his eyes locking with yours. âIs that what this is? Because it doesnât look like it. Youâre not safe. Youâre trapped.â He gestured to the ring on your finger, his voice lowering at the depressed sight of you. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. You stared at him, your chest tightening as his words dug into the thoughts youâd been trying so hard to suppress. Quinn softened, stepping closer. âYou deserve more than this.â he said, his voice breaking slightly. âAnd I think, deep down you know that.â
You bit your lip, sniffling your nose before wiping your tears with your sleeve. âIâm in too deep. I canât get out.â You whispered, finally bringing yourself to the point to admit it. You werenât happy, you knew that, but you couldnât tell anyone. Well, you thought you couldnât until Quinn finally pushed you to the point where there wasnât another option.Â
Quinn let out a sigh mixed with exhaustion and a hint of relief. He sent you an empathetic smile as he absentmindedly grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb against the back of it. âYou can.â He said, his voice quiet. âYouâre not alone. Iâm hereâŠif you need help. Iâm always gonna be here.â Your breath caught in your throat as Quinnâs hand enveloped yours, his warmth cutting through the icy wall youâd built around yourself. His touch was steady, grounding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a flicker of hope. His words echoed in your head, soft and firm. You stared down at his hand, the calluses on his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as his thumb moved in slow, soothing circles. It felt so familiar, so safe, and the contrast to Maxâs cold indifference hit you like a wave. You couldnât help but let all the emotions running like a swarm through your head push you to the point of breakage. You began to sob, your eyes still looking at your hands intertwined as your breath came out in short, stammered increments. Quinn didnât waste any time before pulling you into his chest, allowing your sobs to escape into his shirt as he wrapped his arms around your body. He held you tightly, his arms wrapping around you like a shield against everything that had been weighing you down. His chin rested on top of your head as your tears soaked into his shirt, but he didnât seem to care. His hand rubbed slow circles on your back, grounding you in a way you hadnât felt in ages.Â
âItâs okay,â He murmured softly into your hair. âIâve got you.â You clung to him, your fists gripping the fabric of his shirt as if letting go would mean losing the only thing tethering you to solid ground.Â
The room began to shrink in an instant, reading the text from your mother. âItâs final. Dad and I are separating. You and I are moving to Gran and Popâs when you get back from the lake house, so I need you to pack up everything.âÂ
The tears came almost immediately, but that didnât scare you. It was the feeling you got in your chest, like your heart was radiating pulses all over your body. Pounding over and over again, like the beating was the only thing you could hear. The sound of Quinn shooting pucks only made it worse, like each shot was another banging ache to your head. You tried to slow your breathing, but it felt like the most difficult challenge at that moment. Your breaths were short and hitched, gasping for air at any chance you got. Your hands shook as your phone fell out of them. You were terrified, you didnât know what was happening. You couldnât die, you were only sixteen. You still had so much to do in life. You tilted your head up, staring at the ceiling light, but that only made it worse. Quinn noticed when you didnât say anything about the shot heâd just missed, immediately dropping his stick to run over to you.
âHey, Hey. Whatâs wrong? Are you okay?â He said frantically as he leaned down to where you were sitting on the floor. You tried to tell him, tried to speak, but your head was stuck looking up, and you felt like you couldnât move it. Quinn placed his hand on the back of your neck, pulling your head down to face him. Your face was covered in tears, completely red as your mouth parted slightly. âTalk to me.â He said gently. âPlease?â
You licked your quivering lips, trying your hardest to breathe. âI-IâŠI c-canât. I canât b-breathe.â His heart dropped at your words, the panic in your voice cutting through him like a knife. His hands moved to gently cradle your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears even as more fell.Â
âOkay, okay,â He said softly, his own voice trembling but steadying for your sake. âYouâre having a panic attack. Youâre not dying, I promise.â You gasped again, your breaths shallow and uneven, your chest tightening with each attempt. âLook at me.â He instructed. âBreathe with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth.â He blew out softly, his eyes locked on yours as he repeated the motion.
You tried to mimic him, but your breath was quickly caught in your throat, sending you a fresh wave of panic. âI c-canât Quinn, I canât!â You cried.
âYes, you can.â He reassured, his hands never leaving your face. âIâve got you. Iâm right here. Just take it slow.â You managed a small, shaky inhale, your body trembling as you followed his lead. âThere you go.â He said, his voice laced with a small flicker of relief. âNow, out through your mouth.â Quinn stayed with you, guiding you through each breath as the pounding of the room began to dull. Finally, your breaths came easier, the crushing weight on your chest lifting little by little. You looked at Quinn, your face still wet with tears.
âThank you.â You whispered, your voice hoarse.
His thumbs still traced circles on your cheeks as he sent you a soft smile. âIâve got you. Youâre not alone.â
You stayed, sobbing into Quinnâs shirt as his grip around you tightened. He listened to your breathing patterns, looking out for a sign of a panic attack. Heâd memorized you at this point. He knew the exact time to jump in, and he knew how to calm you down.Â
âQuinn, Iâm so scared.â You cried out, wrapping your arms around him to pull him closer.Â
Quinn moved his hand from your back to your head, running his fingers through your hair. âI know.â He whispered. âIâm sorry.â He leaned back just enough to gently tilt your chin up with his fingers, his blue eyes meeting yours. They were soft, but filled with an intensity that made your heart ache. âYou thought you had to want this.â He said, speaking the words you never had the confidence to say. âDoesnât mean itâs right. It doesnât mean itâs what you deserve.â You looked up at him, not seeing Quinn Hughes, captain of the Canucks, but your childhood best friend, Quinny, who talked you through every panic attack, walked you home from every party, and gave you a bed through every fight between your parents. Thatâs what you deserved. Someone willing to give you that much dedication, not some pretentious lawyer who only loves you for your accomplishments. In a moment of determination, after wiping your tears, you dramatically pulled off your engagement ring, slamming it on the railing of the deck. The sound of the ring hitting the wooden railing echoed in the stillness of the night, sharp and final. Quinnâs eyes darted to it, then back to you, his lips parting in surprise. You stood there trembling, not from fear but from the sheer weight of the decision youâd just made. Your chest heaved as the tears continued to fall. This time they werenât from sadness, they were from release. Quinn hesitated for only a moment before stepping closer, his hand hovering over yours as if to silently ask for permission. When you didnât pull away, he took your trembling hand in his, holding it like it was the most fragile thing in the world.
âYou-â He started, his voice breaking slightly before he cleared his throat. âYou did it.â
âI did it.â You whispered, almost in disbelief yourself. You stared at the ring, gleaming under the soft glow of the porch light. It had once symbolized everything you wanted, but now it felt like a chain youâd finally broken free from.Â
#freeabortionslol#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x reader#fanfic#nhl fanfiction#nhl players#qh43#imagine#hockey#hughes brothers
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BEST FOR YOU ⊠P.SH
pairings : ex! sunghoon x fem reader àšà§ content / warning(s) : hurt with comfort, sunghoon gets closure àšà§ word count : 1.5k ă» archive
synopsis. sunghoon reflects on his past relationship with you, feeling the weight of your breakup and the distance that has grown between you. as he sees you move on, he is reminded of your shared memories and the love you once had. coming to terms with the changes in your lives, sunghoon finds peace, wishing you well as he lets go of the past and the connection you once shared. lev notes : this is inspired by the song best for you by slchld <3 i actually cried when i first finished writing the draft which was shorter (around 700 words) and this is my first ever angst!! hopefully it doesn't dissapoint >.> i genuinely had such a hard time writing some parts but i pulled through with the power of friendship!!
sunghoon sat in his room, the dim light of his desk lamp casting shadows against the walls. the air conditioning hummed softly, the only sound filling the silence of the quiet evening. he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as his gaze drifted to the window. the stillness in the air matched the quiet that had settled within himâa feeling he couldnât shake, no matter how many times he tried to distract himself.
there was something about the loneliness tonight that felt different. it wasnât just the silence that made it seem so heavy, but the creeping ache in his chest that had been growing for months, ever since your breakup. sometimes, in the middle of a busy day, he would forget that the person who used to be at the center of his world was no longer there. but in moments like this, when it was just him and solitude, the reality of it all hit harder than he cared to admit.
the soft glow of his phone screen illuminated his face as he unlocked it, absentmindedly scrolling through his instagram feed. it wasnât like he was looking for anything specificâjust trying to fill the emptiness in the room with something, anything. his thumb paused when he saw your post. you were smiling brightly, laughing with your friends at some outdoor cafĂ©. the image felt almost surreal to him.
he had never been the type to go through his exâs social media, not anymore. but today, something had drawn him in. he couldnât help but wonder how you were doing, how you were living your life without him. it had been a while since you breakup, and he had been trying his best to move on, to accept that things were over between you two. but seeing you this happy, living the life youâd always dreamed ofâit hurt.
your smile was the same as it had always been, bright and effortless. but now it wasnât for him. it wasnât because of him. that realization hit harder than he expected. his heart clenched, and for a moment, he couldnât breathe.
he continued scrolling through your feed, stopping at another postâa picture of you and him, taken months ago at the park. he remembered that day so clearly, the way the sunlight had filtered through the trees and made everything glow. it had been a perfect day, one that had felt like it would last forever. how naive he had been, thinking that nothing could tear you apart.
but everything had changed.
back then, you and sunghoon had been inseparable. high school sweethearts. you had shared everything with each other: dreams, laughter, and even the inevitable frustrations of growing up. you were each otherâs safe haven. but life had a funny way of pushing people in different directions, of breaking apart the very things that once seemed unbreakable.
he remembered the late nights heâd stayed up studying, only to have you call him crying, talking about how much the distance between you two was weighing on your heart. and then there were the times he was too exhausted from his part-time job to really listen, too caught up in his own world to hear the desperation in your voice. he was juggling university, work, and trying to hold onto a relationship that was slowly slipping through his fingers.
sunghoon had never been good at balancing everything. he had never been great at handling the outbursts or the tantrums that sometimes came from the overwhelming pressure of your long-distance relationship. back then he had only been able to offer quick reassurances, tired words that meant little in the face of your pain. and when the break-up came, it felt like a punch to the gut.
the reason you drifted apart was simple, yet so complicated at the same time. you both had grown, and in that process, you had grown away from each other. the person he was back then, caught between uni and a part-time job, he had failed to truly see the depth of what you needed. and now looking back, he wished he could have done better.
"i should have tried harder," he whispered to himself. "i should have been there more."
but that didnât change anything now. he couldnât go back in time and fix his mistakes. all he had now were memories, and the reality that those memories would never become anything more.
the pain of that realization had hit hardest after the breakup, it felt like the ground had shifted beneath him. for so long, he had imagined his future with you. suddenly, he was adrift, lost in a world that no longer made sense. he remembers nights lying awake, replaying the last few months of your relationship, questioning what he could have done differently, feeling anger, confusion, and heartache twist together inside him.
eventually, he learned to let go of the resentment, to see things with a little more clarity. you both had grown, and sometimes people simply grow in different directions. even now, he knows that his feelings for you havenât faded, that part of him will always love you in some quiet, unspoken way. but heâs come to accept that youâre better off without him, that he needs to let you go fully.
and then, one night, it happens. heâs scrolling mindlessly again when he sees it. a new photoâone thatâs different from the rest. youâre standing next to someone, a guy with an easy smile and a warm, gentle presence. jay.
jay, sunghoon had heard about him from mutual friends. he was kind, thoughtful, everything sunghoon wished he could have been for you back then. and now, it was clear: you had found someone new. someone who made you happy. someone who could give you everything he couldnât.
sunghoon sat back in his chair, feeling a lump rise in his throat. it felt like the final confirmation that you had truly moved on, that his place in your life was nothing more than a shadow now. heâd always imagined a future with you. heâd imagined growing old together, supporting each other through everything life threw at you. but now, all he had were his memoriesâand even those felt like they were fading, slowly but surely.
he looked at the photo again, your smile still as bright as ever, but this time, it wasnât for him. it was for jay. and a strange peace settled over him. you had found love again. you were with someone who made you feel the way you deserved to feel.
sunghoon took a deep breath and opened your chat. he had been avoiding it for so long, unsure of what to say, but now he knew. he wanted to reach out one last time. he didnât expect anything in return, but he needed to say what was in his heart. after all, he had never been good at letting go, but it was time.
his fingers hovered over the keyboard as he searched for the right words. they trembled slightly as he types:
âhey y/n⊠i saw your post. i just wanted to say, iâm really happy for you. you deserve all the happiness in the world, and i know jay will treat you the way youâve always deserved to be treated. thank you for everything, for all the memories. iâll always wish you the best.â
he paused, staring at the message for a moment before pressing âsend.â a weight lifted off his shoulders as soon as he did, his heart heavy yet at peace. by saying goodbye in that simple message, he was letting go, wishing you wellâeven though he knew heâd never see your smile in person again.
sunghoon sat back in his chair, his eyes drifting back to the photo of you and jay, the one that had started all of this. for the first time in months, he wasnât angry or sad. he wasnât resentful. instead, he felt an odd sense of closure, a peaceful acceptance that the two of you were no longer meant to be.
his mind wandered back to the first time he saw you, in the school library. you had been sitting at a table, a pile of books in front of you, your head slightly down as you concentrated. when your eyes met his, you smiled shyly, and something in him had shifted. it was as if the world had slowed down just for that moment. that smile had been the first spark, the first flicker of something that would grow into an overwhelming love. that first smile had stayed with him, a memory he carried through every moment you shared.
âi fell for you right then,â sunghoon whispered to the empty room. âand i think, a part of me will always love you.â
he closed his eyes and leaned back, letting the memory of that smile wash over him. it was bittersweet, but in that moment, he finally understood. you had been his first love, and though that chapter had closed, it would always be a part of him. and that was enough.
he whispered a final goodbye to himself, letting the memory fade into the stillness of the night. with it, he carried a silent promise to move forward, even if it meant holding a small piece of you with him forever.
as he drifted off to sleep that night, he silently wished you well, hoping that wherever life took you, you would find everything you were looking for and more.
perm taglist. @honeychocos @honeybelleee @manaah02 (open!)
©levandright
#lev writes#â.á angst#enhypen#enhypen angst#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x you#enhypen x y/n#enhypen drabbles#enhypen au#park sunghoon#sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon angst#sunghoon angst#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon enhypen#park sunghoon x reader#kpop x reader#kpop angst#park sunghoon fic#sunghoon fic
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