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peachdues · 2 years ago

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Tell Me to Stop: Part 2 (NSFW Kyojuro Rengoku x F!Ice Pillar)

A/N: oh man, it’s here. This took a lot out of me, so I hope that you all like it.

Part One can be found here: post-Mugen AU where Kyojuro lives; events take place post-Entertainment District.

Multiple POVs (Y/N, Shinobu, and Kyojuro). There are several flashbacks, which are in all italics and separated from the main text.

Massive TW: trauma/PTSD, anger, nightmares, descriptions of corpses, violence and violence between characters (shoving, grabbing/shaking). One character triggers another and it’s dubious whether it’s intentional or not.

CW: 16.7k words; explicit sexual content. Unprotected sex/oral (F!receiving), creampies, cursing, light scar worship, intimacy, angst.

For the song that inspired this, listen here.

Without further ado!

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Y/N’s POV)

Y/N began her rehabilitation training within one week of awakening from her coma.

For those seven days of rest, Y/N had fielded all sorts of visitors — the Master, escorted by his two daughters; the Love Pillar, who had wasted no time throwing her arms around Y/N’s shoulders and sobbing in relief; and three of the Mansion’s youngest girls, all of whom crawled up on her bed and cried while hugging her.

Uzui had sent her a note by crow telling her he would be by to see her as soon as his wives finished making her favorite treat — red bean mochi — and said they could compare battle wounds in celebration of their feat.

Y/N had neither seen nor heard as much of a whisper from the Flame Pillar.

The Ice Pillar resolved to distract herself from the glaring absence of the man who embodied fire, though every day that passed without word from him only seemed to make that absence more pronounced.

Y/N had thrown herself into her rehabilitation training, as supervised by Shinobu. Because she was a Hashira, her recovery was vastly different from that of lower-ranked slayers, and she worked with the Insect Pillar directly, rather than with the haughty Aoi and other younger Mansion girls.

That particular morning, the Love Pillar had joined them in an effort to recuperate Y/N’s loss of flexibility as the result of the nearly two months she’d spent sedentary. Y/N cherished the one-on-one time she had with the other two women Hashira; the three of them had formed a tight bond with one another since ascending as Pillars, united amidst the predominance of male demon slayers.

“Good! Now just bend this way-“ Mitsuri Kanroji kept a steady hand at the small of Y/N’s back as Y/N arched over backward, teeth grinding as her stiff spine resisted her movement.

“Almost there! Just touch your other hand to the floor and hold it!” The Love Hashira said encouragingly.

Y/N stretched her left arm over her head as hard as she could. Her fingers had just graced the wooden grain of the training room floor when her body seized, and her legs gave out from under her.

“Oh!” Mitsuri caught Y/N effortlessly before she could crumple to the floor, gently helping her to sit while blushing at the stream of colorful curses that poured from the Ice Pillar’s mouth.

“This damn wound,” Y/N moaned, her hand pressing against the angry red mark that curved from below her belly button to her right hip. “You would think it would have healed by now.”

Shinobu frowned as she crouched next to the Ice Pillar, fingers lightly prodding at the scar left behind by Upper Moon Six. “It has healed; if it hadn’t, it wouldn’t have scarred already.” Shinobu pursed her lips. “Though, I suppose it could just be a residual effect of the Upper Rank’s blood demon art – after all, it was no ordinary blade that he pierced you with, was it?”

Y/N shook her head, though she tried to suppress the memory of the demon’s cursed flesh blade ramming through her back and into her stomach. “The blade was his conduit for his blood demon art – but I think it was made from him.”

“How often does it hurt, Y/N?” Mitsuri asked, rubbing soothing circles on her friend’s upper back. Mitsuri was one of the few people Y/N knew who preferred to give physical comfort, and Y/N was grateful for it.

Y/N furrowed her brows in thought. “In a way, there’s always just this dull ache I feel, though it becomes sharper whenever I move a particular way.” Y/N pulled at the band of her uniform bottoms in discomfort. “And, it doesn’t help that these damn pants chafe and rub against it. I’ve even foregone the belt, and it still feels like they’re cutting into me.”

Mitsuri hummed in thought. “Have you considered one of the uniform skirts? They sit a little higher on the waist, so they’re less likely to aggravate it.”

Y/N scowled. “I would rather be stabbed by Upper Six again than request a skirt from that pervert tailor,” she said severely, “Sorry,” she added when she saw the Love Pillar flush with embarrassment.

“Lecherous Corps tailors aside, you may have a good point, Mitsuri.” Shinobu said, eyeing Y/N’s uniform pants in thought. “Y/N, do you mind if I brainstorm some designs for you? I can’t promise whatever I come up with will be suitable for public appearances or assignments, but I might be able to come up with something that will at least keep you comfortable while you heal and build back your strength.”

Y/N smiled as she stretched her legs out, bringing herself into a pose meant to flex her hips. “I’d be grateful for anything you could do, Shinobu.”

The Insect Pillar nodded. “Mitsuri, you know how to sew quite well, do you not? I’m afraid my proficiency with the needle is limited to sewing up wounds.”

The pinkette glowed with enthusiasm. “Yes! I have an entire room dedicated to sewing at my Estate – if you bring by your designs, I’m sure I could put something together!”

Shinobu smiled. “Then it’s settled. I’ll see what I can come up with tonight, and I’ll bring it by in the morning.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at the dedication her two friends showed towards her comfort and recovery. “Thank you both, from the bottom of my heart.”

Shinobu’s smile turned wicked. “Don’t thank us yet, Y/N. You have agility training next.”

Y/N groaned and pulled on her uniform top, buttoning it over her bindings. As a Hashira, agility training meant that she was to meet the Wind Pillar outside of Kocho’s estate where she would endure two hours of having to dodge his relentless attacks. Y/N got along just fine with Shinazugawa – he’d even welcomed her back, and gruffly complimented her work in the Entertainment District – but that did not mean he eased up in his ruthless training.

By the time the Wind Pillar had dismissed her with a satisfied nod, Y/N had all but limped back to her room, wondering whether she could even summon the strength to bathe after such an arduous day. She almost decided against it, but when her newest scar began to pulse and throb once more, she knew nothing else would soothe it better than the hot water in Kocho’s private hot spring.

Y/N greeted the bowing Kakushi who guarded the entrance to the northernmost wing of the Butterfly Mansion’s hospital as she passed by, and she hoped that Aoi had remembered to restock her room with fresh towels so she could go straight to her bath from her room.

She drew short at the sight of a familiar figure which stood outside of Kocho’s office, leaning against the wall of the small hallway.

“Rengoku!” Y/N was startled, taking a step back in surprise at the sight of the Flame Pillar.

“Y/L/N.” The man who reminded her of the sun nodded in greeting, but his familiar, sunny disposition was noticeably absent, his face impassive and his voice detached.

“I am happy to see you in good health.” Rengoku spoke with unnatural formality; he’d never used that cold, detached manner of speaking to her, not once since she’d caught him staring at her right before the commencement of Final Selection all those years ago.

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“Ice Pillar Y/L/N!” His sunny voice boomed, and Y/N groaned. She’d just gotten her migraine to calm down.

“Rengoku,” she nodded politely, as her comrade came to stand beside her, all smiles and warmth.

“It’s been a while, Y/L/N! I was beginning to forget what you look like when you roll your eyes at me.” He laughed, and Y/N scowled.

“Perhaps I’ll pay to have my photograph taken, Rengoku. That way, you can carry it with you wherever you go.”

Rengoku turned to her, an eyebrow raised in surprise at her willingness to engage with his banter so quickly. “If that’s the case, Y/N, I’d prefer to have one of you smiling. It would do well to keep me warm on those cold nights away from home.”

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“I heard you were called away on another mission— some train?” Y/N asked him as they strolled through the Master’s garden following their meeting.

“Yes, we’ve unfortunately lost a number of slayers. Perhaps it’s an upper rank!” The Flame Pillar responded jovially, but he stopped in front of Y/N when he saw her frown.

“What is it?” His voice was gentle, and Y/N shook her head, focusing her eyes on the blooming wisteria saplings that had been planted.

A warm finger curled under her chin and tilted her face up until her eyes clashed with pools of golden ore. “My dear Ice Pillar, are you worried for me?” He was smirking, and his thumb lightly caressed the underside of her jaw.

Y/N gingerly took his hand and removed it from her face, though she did not let it go right away. “You are the Flame Hashira, Rengoku. If anyone is capable of defeating an Upper Rank, it most certainly is you.”

Rengoku smiled broadly at her, his hand nearly grazing her own. “For someone whose prowess lies in ice breathing, Y/L/N, you sure know how to start fires.”

Under any other circumstance, she would have changed the subject, or not said anything at all. But Y/N couldn’t help her sudden desire to flirt back, just to see if she could knock him off his feet as he so often tried to do to her.

“Yours is the only one I’m interested in stoking, Rengoku.” She said sweetly.

She’d laughed at the Flame Pillar’s beet-red face for the rest of the day.

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“And I, you.” Y/N responded, her eyes still wide with surprise as she came to a stop before him, maintaining a cautious distance between them.

A pregnant pause followed, and Y/N made to speak once more, but she was cut off by another deep throb from the wound on her lower abdomen, her hand unconsciously flying to press against it as she swallowed the gasp that threatened to leave her.

“You’re in pain.” It wasn’t a question.

Y/N shrugged in a feeble attempt at nonchalance. “I suppose it’s to be expected for a while yet. At least until I recover.”

Rengoku said nothing, and the silence felt suffocating.

“Would you-“ Y/N hesitated, and inwardly she’d never felt more embarrassed, or more uncertain than she did then as she stood before the uncharacteristically stoic Flame Pillar. “Would you like to sit down?”

Rengoku’s face remained impassive, and he turned away from her, dismissively.

“I cannot. I came only to retrieve a salve from Kocho.” His voice was just as cold, just as unfamiliar as the rest of him had been.

“Rengoku, is everything all right?” She stretched out a hand to touch his shoulder but was alarmed at how quickly he flinched away from her as if her touch could burn him.

“Everything is fine, Y/L/N. I need to be on my way.” Rengoku’s voice was flat, monotone, and wholly foreign to her.

“I’m sorry for not thanking you sooner — for everything you did to help me that night.” Y/N blurted, and to her relief, Rengoku froze mid-step, though he did not turn towards her. “I owe you my life.”

She did not miss the way Rengoku’s fists clenched at his side. “You owe me nothing. I would have done the same for any other comrade.” He replied, voice tight. “I must get going now. Farewell, Y/L/N.

She was so stunned that she’d not bidden him farewell back. Rather, she’d stood helplessly in her doorway, even long after the edge of his haori had disappeared around the corner of the Butterfly Mansion’s hall.

He had not looked at her once.

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(Kyojuro’s POV)

Kyojuro’s fists remained clenched the entire journey back to his estate.

He felt disgusted with himself. He felt like a coward.

It had nearly knocked him to his knees to see Y/L/N up and standing and talking because for so long, he had feared he would never again see the way she crinkled her nose when she laughed, or how she tucked that one loose strand of hair behind her ear whenever she was concentrating — the one that never stayed put in her braid.

But he had not been able to meet her eyes; couldn’t bear to bring himself to try, because he had been terrified of what he would see.

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Every night for the last two months, he has dreamed of her.

They were not pretty dreams, not like those he had before when he’d wrap her in his arms and kiss her until she laughed, the two of them living in a monster-free world and at peace.

Now, he dreamt of vacant eyes-tinged blue, unseeing and unblinking and frozen, just like the rest of her. He dreams of iced skin and blood and poison pouring from her mouth and her nose until she chokes, her chest rising once with a final rattle before it falls still.

He dreams of Upper Three, smiling deviously as he aims his fist to deal his final blow, and Kyojuro wrenches his blade down, desperate to finally win.

Only, his blade decapitates Y/N, not the Upper Rank demon and he is helpless to watch her head bounce pathetically to the ground. His hands are covered in her blood, and instead of disintegrating, her body falls uselessly to the side. Human.

As quickly as he kills her, the dream changes. He is in a lively street, filled to the brim with street vendors and women and men offering their services. It is night but the lights of the shops and gambling dens and pleasure houses are so bright that it looks like daytime.

He recognizes her by the back of her haori, and his feet move towards her, relieved to see her amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. He reaches out to touch her shoulder, her name whispering on his lips. But she turns before he can make contact, and though she looks healthy, her eyes — her eyes are white and unseeing.

I don’t understand, she pleads with him, it doesn’t make sense.

Kyojuro looks around in alarm and they are no longer standing amongst eager entertainment seekers, but among flame and wreckage, the once-ornately decorated stalls now smashed to splinters as fire slowly consumes the skeletal remains of the entertainment district.

He turns back to her right as a blade pierces through her gut, lifting her from the ground before letting her drop.

His hands shake as he reaches for her, desperate to check her wounds, but when she looks up at him, he stumbles back.

She is all wrong. Her skin is mottled and rotting from her face, and her hair is gray and matted. In place of her eyes are black holes, empty and cold.

Why can’t I come with you? Why can’t I go home, Kyojuro?

Please take me home.

Every night for the last two months, he awoke screaming.

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Y/L/N was alive; he knew that. He knew that if he looked at her, he would not see a corpse; but terrifying visuals aside, Kyojuro had not been able to look at her because he knew what his nightmares were telling him.

He’d been responsible for her near death.

If the Kakushi had returned with a box rather than a Pillar, it would have been his fault.

The thought that Y/L/N — his Y/L/N -- had almost obtained her own headstone in the Master’s graveyard had rocked him to his very core, for that had almost become a reality. She had actually died – for the briefest moment – in his arms; and it had been his fault.

Why can't I go home, Kyojuro?

And though Y/N had awoken from her slumber, her corpse still haunted Kyojuro’s dreams.

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(Y/N’s POV)

Y/N was sprawled on her infirmary floor, preparing her limbs for another day of rigorous recuperation training at the hands of her fellow Hashira.

She stood to stretch her arms and lower back, wincing slightly at the pull of her scar. “Don’t you start,” she warned her body, willing total concentration breathing to dull the persistent ache that threatened to derail her entire day.

Y/N sensed movement near her doorway and knew, without looking, who watched her as she warmed up her aching muscles.

“Uzui retired. It’s time for you to do the same.”

Y/N who had been in mid-stretch, righted herself and blinked at the Flame Pillar. “Pardon?” Both the news of Uzui’s retirement and Rengoku’s words were a shock to her.

“Retire, Y/LN.” Rengoku repeated in that detached manner of his that she hardly recognized. “You helped take down an Upper Rank. You’ve done enough. Let someone else shoulder the burden, now.”

“I see no reason to retire, Rengoku.” Y/N retorted, voice hardening. “And unless and until the Master requests it or I perish, I see no reason to do so.”

Rengoku exhaled harshly through his nose. “You were injured — seriously so.”

“As were you, and yet you seem to have no intention of slowing down.” Y/N said, coolly.

Rengoku’s attention stayed fixed on the garden outside her window. “And I was only unconscious for three weeks. You were out for nearly two months, Y/L/N. That is unheard of and frankly, unacceptable for a Hashira.”

“What is your problem?” Y/N was growing more irritated the longer this inane conversation dragged on, and it wasn’t helping that Rengoku still refused to so much as look her direction, let alone meet her eyes. “Is this about what happened after you brought me here? Kocho told me everything — I’m not mad.”

Rengoku’s shoulders tensed. “It was necessary. Again, I would have done it for any one of my comrades.”

Y/N felt like she’d been slapped.

“You keep saying that, yet you won’t look at me— why?” Her confusion and hurt were beginning to melt into anger. “If I am just another comrade, then you should be able to meet my eyes.”

Rengoku said nothing.

“What Uzui did for me— that was what comrades do,” Y/N continued, her voice growing stronger as her blood grew hotter. “But you? You and I both know you were under no obligation to bring me back from the brink of death the way you did.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Y/L/N,” Rengoku answered after a long moment.

Y/N took a step towards him. “I want to know why.”

“It was necessary.”

Y/N felt like throttling him.

How long had they danced around each other? How many times had they caught themselves staring at the other for a breath longer than normal, had allowed an otherwise friendly touch during a spar linger?

How could he have held her, half nude for hours, putting himself on the brink of death all for the sake of keeping her alive — and then tell her she was the same as any other comrade?

“What are we doing Rengoku -- is this to be our destiny?” Y/N demanded, exasperatedly, her voice hard. “We continue to pretend like we don’t care about one another until one of us dies?”

Rengoku remained silent, back still turned away from her.

“We’ve each had a near-death experience in a matter of months,” Y/N continued, throat working hard to keep her voice steady despite the telling burn of angry tears in her eyes. “By all accounts, one if not both of us should be dead.”

“And yet, somehow, you expect me to act as though the fact you carried me back here— that you put yourself on death’s door to keep my heart beating — doesn’t mean anything?”

It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense for him to fight so hard for her, to make her believe that someone valued her life that much, only to cast her aside.

She hadn’t wanted to wake up, initially; she’d felt relief for the hair’s breadth she’d thought she’d finally met her end. He was the one who dragged her back, and now he wouldn’t even look at her.

It didn’t make sense.

Y/N’s fists shook beside her, and she felt the venomous words fly from her mouth before she could stop them.

“You should’ve let me die.”

No sooner had she let the poison drip from her mouth had she felt herself flying backward, back slamming against the nearest wall of her temporary room.

“Never,” Rengoku snarled at her, his arm pressing firmly against her shoulders to hold her in place against the wood. “Never say those words to me again.”

Y/N’s chest was heaving, and she trembled beneath him, her fury threatening to explode out of her.

“There is no place on this earth where you could be in peril and I would not find you,” he said quietly, his eyes a simmering, fiery orange. “Where I wouldn’t find a way to bring you back home.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Y/N said softly, breath still coming hard from her nose but no longer from her anger.

“Doesn’t it?” Rengoku was close, dangerously close.

Y/N wanted nothing more than to lean in, to close the distance that barely existed between Rengoku’s face and hers and finally be done with all the nonsense. But he had spent so much time avoiding her gaze until that moment, and Y/N felt more lost than ever, set adrift by the look of heat and longing that was mixed with the burning rage in his eyes.

Something tugged incessantly at her gut and it would not allow her to move from her place against her recovery room’s wall.

Instead, her arms came up to rest against Rengoku’s chest before gently, but firmly, pushing him away.

“No, it doesn’t.” She repeated. “And I am tired, Rengoku.”

The Flame Pillar allowed himself to be pushed away, but he looked at her with a small, cruel smile.

“Then you’re right; it doesn’t mean anything at all.”

She flinched against the ugly slap of his words. Y/N had expected him to hit back, but she hadn’t anticipated his venom to sting as much as it did.

She felt all of the fight within her gutter out, leaving her with nothing but a heavy weight in her chest that she wished she couldn’t feel.

“Y/L/N, I-“ the Flame Pillar almost sounded remorseful.

“Thank you, for your clarification, Lord Rengoku,” she said numbly, formally, parroting his earlier tone with her. “And thank you for your assistance that night. Please, next time — don’t trouble yourself.”

Rengoku hesitated for a moment, his hand twitching as though he wanted to reach for her. He swallowed hard, and turned away, shutting the door to Y/N’s infirmary.

The moment the door at clicked shut, Y/N exhaled harshly, stumbling back against her bed as she hugged her arms around herself, and she tried to keep herself from falling apart.

It shouldn’t have hurt this bad. They were both in the Demon Slayer Corps; they saved strangers all the time without it ever meaning anything other than good will and a desire to exterminate all demons.

So why did his insistence that she was no different hurt so badly?

Because she wasn’t a stranger.

Because, while she’d always known she wasn’t his, she’d still thought she’d been something.

As Y/N curled against her blanket, an unsettling numbness began to spread from her heart, quieting even the dull ache from the scar across her belly, Y/N realized that she’d meant nothing to the Flame Pillar all along.

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(Kyojuro’s POV)

He hated himself.

He utterly and truly despised himself.

He’d been hurt by her insistence that she did not know his feelings even though he was the one who’d opened the door, yet somehow, it still felt like a rejection.

So he’d hit back, only for her to visibly recoil at the sharp blow of his words.

He would not forgive himself, for as long as he lived, for the way the light in her eyes had winked out.

He did not know what bothered him more: the fact that she’d assumed that he regretted keeping her alive, or that she’d said “next time” he needn’t bother. As though she were counting on there being a next time.

He knew he should turn around; knew that he should barge back into her hospital room, drop to his knees, and beg her to forgive his cruelty.

He knew that he should explain to her why he found it so difficult to admit his feelings for her — that he had watched his father turn into a shell of a man and abandon his children in the wake of their mother’s death, leaving them to raise themselves. That he had vowed, as he’d watched his father drink his days away, that he would never be like him, would never abandon those who relied on him most.

He’d promised that he would never be a coward, even if, in all honesty, the idea that he, Kyojuro, could ever love someone that fiercely only to have them ripped from his grasp terrified him to no end.

As he forced his legs to carry him to back to his estate, Kyojuro wondered if perhaps, in his desperation not to turn into his father, he’d become the old man after all.

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(Shinobu’s POV)

Shinobu felt the Flame Pillar’s presence in her office before she saw him, though she was in no rush to give him his salve, especially not after what she’d overheard him spit at her friend.

“If you do not mind, I would like to send my crow to collect this from here on,” Rengoku said tightly, and Shinobu could sense his failing attempt to keep his fury in check.

“Very well then,” the Insect Pillar responded just as tersely, turning away from the papers and books on her desk to pull out the small tin containing the salve the Flame Pillar used to soothe the ache of the scar he now bore across his pectoral and shoulder. Rather than handing it to him, she tossed it through the air, the Flame Hashira catching it swiftly in his hand.

Rengoku nodded his thanks and turned to leave.

“I didn’t realize it was against Corps’ rules to care about our comrades,” Shinobu said icily, if not to signal to him that there had been spectators to his ugly outburst.

He couldn’t resist taking her bait. “Maybe it should be. It would be easier that way — for everyone.”

“Is that so?” Kocho sneered, no hint of familiarity or kindness in her features; nothing but that poisonous, deadly smile. “Well, if that was the case, then you would’ve preferred Uzui to leave Y/L/N for dead among the rubble in Yoshiwara, correct?

“You would rather us be searching to fill the newest Hashira vacancy, with her corpse barely cold in the ground-“

“Do not say another word, Kocho.” Rengoku warned, quietly.

But for Shinobu, anger was her vice, and so his warning only spurred her on.

“Tell me, Rengoku, if the new Pillar had been a woman, would you have held her the way you held Y/N?”

Shinobu’s smile was chilling as she relished the way the Flame Pillar began to tremble. “Or perhaps, would you finally confess to her, having learned your lesson from the missed opportunity with Y/N? Would you live out your days with her, while Y/N rotted below the earth, having never known someone loved her?”

“ENOUGH.” Rengoku roared, and for a moment, Shinobu thought the Flame Pillar might put his clenched fist through her wall. The silence that followed was tense and long as Rengoku struggled to calm his breathing.

“What do you want from me, Kocho?” Rengoku finally snapped, wheeling around to glower at the Insect Pillar, eyes half-crazed in his frustration.

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(Two months earlier)

Dawn was still far off, but the hall of her estate was a mess.

Shinobu knew that at any moment, another group of Kakushi would be coming through the hole Rengoku had left in her wall bearing the unconscious body of the Sound Pillar, and if they did so, they’d be stumbling upon the chaotic scene that had unfolded before.

Rengoku was still on the floor, legs on either side of Y/N, who was slumped against his chest and fully exposed from the waist up.

With some satisfaction, Shinobu noted that the dark purple bruising around Y/N’s chest was clearing, a sure sign that she had chosen the correct antidote for the Flame Hashira to slam into her heart.

But her hypothermia persisted.

Rengoku, on the other hand, was beginning to breathe rather loudly, no doubt as he continued to maintain his high fever for the sake of the unmoving woman braced between his thighs.

“Rengoku,” Shinobu crouched down next to the Flame Pillar, her hand coming to a rest on his shoulder, which burned beneath her palm. “Rengoku, we need to move.”

The man lifted his head up to meet her eyes, his own glassy and unfocused. Shinobu clamped down on the swear building on her tongue — he had fever fog.

Rengoku grunted at her before his head slumped back down, chin nearly touching his chest.

Shinobu tried again. “Rengoku, we are in the open hallway of the Butterfly Mansion. Others will be arriving soon. Y/N is completed exposed.”

That seemed to get his attention. Rengoku’s head lifted, his eyes narrowed slits, but nonetheless open. He grunted in some sort of acknowledgement and began to shift Y/N in his lap.

He turned the unconscious Ice Pillar so that her back rested against one arm that curled around her bare waist. His free arm slid to grip beneath her knees, shifting her into a bridal-style position to carry her.

Two of the Butterfly Mansion’s staff moved to help him stand, but Rengoku shrugged them off, surprising Shinobu as he managed to rise steadily to his feet, Y/N secured against his chest.

He looked at Shinobu expectantly and she began ushering him towards a secluded wing of the Manor, towards her private hall. Across from her personal office was a special infirmary room, walled off from the rest of the recovery ward.

Shinobu withdrew a ring of keys from her pocket and unlocked the heavy, wooden door.

“You two can stay in here until her body temperature returns to normal,” She said, as Rengoku made his way towards the recovery bed.

Shinobu watched as Rengoku, still wearing his zori and uniform pants, ever so gently lowered himself and Y/N down on the bed, repeating his earlier positioning of her between his thighs. He propped up one leg slightly to keep the Ice Pillar from slumping over, her back pressed to his bare chest. Rengoku leaned against the headboard so that Y/N’s head could rest against his clavicle, though it slumped instead towards her left shoulder.

Shinobu made to grab a blanket to throw over the two topless Hashira but stopped short as Rengoku made to move again.

He seemed to realize that Y/N, while also still in her torn uniform pants and zori, was still bare from the waist up, her body positioned towards the door. He frowned, his hand coming up to graze the side of her arm. He flinched slightly, no doubt at the persistent chill that lingered on her skin, and he moved both of his large hands down over the back of hers as they lay limply on either side of her thighs, intertwining their fingers.

Awestruck, Shinobu watched as Rengoku brought Y/N’s arms up to cross them over her chest, locking them in place by covering her arms with his own, as though wrapping her in a sweet embrace. Shinobu knew that he’d done so to avoid touching her bare breasts himself, or at least to do so as minimally as possible, while still providing her cover. And, due to the breadth of Rengoku’s muscled forearms, Y/N’s sensitive area was almost entirely obscured from view.

Rengoku had barely been clinging to consciousness himself, and once she was sufficiently hidden in his arms, his head dropped forward until his forehead came to a rest on Y/N’s shoulder, opposite of where she’d rolled her head.

To the unassuming eye, it would have appeared as though the pair of Hashira were simply engaged in an intimate moment, rather than one desperately trying to anchor the other to life.

Shinobu moved to place the blanket over the Pillars’ laps, before quietly exiting the private room.

“Seal this wing off entirely,” she murmured to Aoi, who had been waiting dutifully outside. “No one comes down here without my explicit permission.”

Aoi bowed to her before she ushered the other Kakushi out. Faintly, Shinobu heard the arriving shouts of the group bearing the Sound Pillar. She took a single deep breath, steeling herself once more, before moving to check on her incoming patient.

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

Shinobu raised her chin, looking down her nose at him in disgust. “I’m waiting for the man who would have set the world ablaze to save Y/N to reappear.”

She cocked her head, narrowing her eyes at him. “I’m waiting for the man who used his own body as her lifeline, and who tried to smash open the infirmary door when he was delirious with fever because he thought that she had died while he was asleep.”

The Insect Pillar’s masked smile finally slipped from her face and her true rage towards the Flame Pillar shone through. “It is cruel to make her feel as though she’s done something wrong,” Shinobu’s arms folded across her chest. “And it is cruel to you both for you to pretend as though she does not mean anything to you. Haven’t you both been through enough? Are you not exhausted as well?”

A tortured look passed over Rengoku’s face. “It is better this way, Kocho. I do not want to be the cause of her pain, and I cannot survive going through what happened to her again.

“For all your talk about either of you dying, I’ve yet to hear you mention the equal alternative,” Shinobu sighed, gathering her papers and books. “The one where we win and you both live. What do you suppose happens then?”

Rengoku said nothing and so, Shinobu continued. “Suppose we emerge victorious – would you truly prefer for you and Y/N to go your separate ways – to never see one another again, or never acknowledge the bond the two of you share?”

“There is no guarantee that either of us survives, Kocho,” Rengoku said quietly, his eyes falling to his feet.

Shinobu smiled but it was no longer cruel or bitter; it was wistful. “And there is no guarantee that either of you die. That’s the fickle nature of humanity, is it not? The very reason we fight?”

The Insect Pillar gathered her papers and stacked them neatly on her shelf. “For the possibilities of it all.”

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

The sun was high in the sky by the time Shinobu had a moment to check on the two unconscious pillars in the back room.

Uzui had required quite a bit of attention in order to stop the poison from becoming deadly, though the fact that her combination of the wisteria antidote with the amphetamine had been so effective on Y/N meant that Shinobu was able to administer the same to the Sound Pillar in half the time.

She was exhausted; the strain of the night’s events weighed heavily on her, but she had to check on Y/N’s temperature — if the Ice Pillar still had not recovered, she feared that hope was lost.

She pushed the door to the private infirmary room open and saw the two Hashira, still in the same position she’d left them in. Rengoku was deeply asleep, no doubt from the exhaustion wrought by his high fever.

Enclosed within his arms, Y/N remained unconscious but pink.

Shinobu felt the relief course through her, but she did not allow herself to relax until she reached out a hand to lightly pinch the Ice Pillar’s cheek.

It bloomed red beneath her fingers, and it was warm to the touch.

He’d done it. The Flame Pillar had staved off her hypothermia. Their only obstacle now lay in getting her to reawaken.

Shinobu laid her hand across Rengoku’s forehead, frowning at the scorching heat of his brow; his fever had worsened more than she’d anticipated, and he would need intervention soon. She turned to nod at the Kakushi who waited by the door to the recovery room, and the three of them moved to separate the Flame and Ice Pillars.

“Put him in one of the other single-recovery rooms. Tell Aoi to administer the fever medication I keep in my cabinet – it should dispel his fever within a few hours.” Shinobu ordered, as the Kakushi, with great effort, lifted the Flame Pillar from his position behind Y/N. Shinobu gently eased her friend down against the bed and pulled a blanket over her exposed torso. “I will also need a fresh hospital gown for Lady Y/L/N.”

The Kakushi nodded their assent and got to work, heaving the unconscious Flame Pillar towards the door when he awoke. At first, his eyes were dazed, and confused as they darted around him, but as he took in his surroundings, he began to struggle against the grip of the Kakushi.

“Please, Lord Rengoku, your fever is dangerously high! Allow us to help!” One of them cried, though his efforts to tug the Pillar away were futile. Shinobu supposed the only reason he had not yet succeeded in completely throwing them off was the fact that his fever had severely weakened him.

“Rengoku,” Shinobu said sternly, coming around from her position by Y/N to meet his eyes, though he only thrashed harder against the Kakushi as he began to mutter incoherently under his breath. “Rengoku, that’s enough. You’re safe. You’re in the Butterfly Mansion, and you have a high fever. Please, let the Kakushi do their job.”

But the Insect Pillar’s words fell on deaf ears as Rengoku began to hyperventilate, his muscles straining as he tried desperately to break free from the Kakushi’s hold. Shinobu was at a loss; her comrade did not merely look frantic – he looked terrified, desperate, and utterly beyond reproach or reason. His heart rate had spiked considerably, and his breath was jerky and uneven, as though he could not fully understand where he was or that he was amongst friends.

As she strained to make out what the Flame Pillar repeated, over and over, under his breath, Shinobu realized that his eyes were not unfocused at all; they were locked on the unconscious Ice Pillar in the bed behind her.

“I can still save her!” he roared.

It all made sense then.

Shinobu realized that he thought they were moving him not because he’d successfully thwarted her hypothermia, but because he had failed — and that she was now dead.

“Rengoku,” Shinobu said sharply, trying to force the irate and delirious Flame Pillar to meet her eyes. “Rengoku, Y/N is alive. Her body temperature has returned to normal. She is safe.”

But the Flame Pillar seemed not to hear her, as he only struggled harder against the Kakushi desperately trying to usher him out of Y/N’s room.

Rengoku was becoming more violent, even as the Kakushi finally managed to shove him through the doorway of Y/N’s room. Just before they’d managed to slam the door shut, Shinobu caught Aoi’s eye and nodded, the younger girl quickly disappeared into the Pillar’s office.

Shinobu watched in stunned silence as the Flame Pillar broke free from the Kakushi and began hurtling his body against the door, Y/N’s name falling from his lips in an anguished chant.

Rengoku was so delirious in his fevered panic that he did not notice Aoi slip behind him and plunge a syringe into his neck, depositing a thick stream of the clear liquid that Shinobu knew would have a near-instantaneous effect on his consciousness.

The Insect Pillar felt a strange sense of pity and remorse as she watched her friend slump to the floor outside of the infirmary room, a final cry out for the Ice Pillar falling from his lips before the sedative lulled him back to sleep.

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

(Kyojuro’s POV – three days later)

He didn’t know why he’d returned to the Butterfly Mansion.

Kyojuro tried to convince himself that it was because he didn’t want to wait for his crow to return with Kocho’s salve, but he knew it was a pathetic excuse. He’d sworn to himself that he would leave Y/L/N alone after their last argument. He’d vowed that the door between them had been closed for good, and they would only ever be colleagues. Nothing more.

But he couldn’t stay away. Perhaps it was because he’d spent the last few days stewing over their last argument, and somewhere, amidst his endless supply of self-hatred, he’d also grown angry with the Ice Pillar.

Angry, because she had put herself in harm’s way when he’d specifically told her not to.

Angry because she’d nearly died, and she’d threatened to take the last vestiges of his sanity with her to the afterlife.

Angry that she insisted on remaining in the Demon Slayer Corps despite having given more than enough of herself to their cause; angry that she didn’t understand why he couldn’t yet do the same.

Angry because she didn’t seem to understand his feelings at all.

Perhaps in another life, they could have had each other. Had they both been born into a world without demons, then maybe they would have still found each other and maybe, just maybe, he would have been able to love her the way she deserved.

But for Kyojuro, their relationship would always be defined by a series of maybes, and nothing more.

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

It would have been a lie for Kyojuro to say he’d not been struck dumb by her.

She was stretched out on the steps of Kocho’s engawa, legs dangling off the edge of the porch as she leaned back on her elbows, eyes closed dreamily as she kept her face tilted up towards the cooling night air.

Long, lean, bare legs, he realized, an uncomfortable heat creeping up his collar. He couldn’t help running his eyes up their length, fixating hard on the supple curves of her thighs.

Why were her legs bare?

She looked…so unguarded this way. Her haori was draped around her shoulders, one of its sleeves hanging loosely to the side and exposing her bare shoulder – how exposed was she, the idiot – and her hair was completely unbound, falling in a silken river to her waist.

It was a stark contrast to the braided crown she wore at the base of her neck. It hit him that, not counting the night she’d nearly died, he had not otherwise seen her with her hair down.

He liked it. A lot.

“I finally rid myself of one migraine only for another to appear,” Y/N’s lofty voice snapped him out of his reverence, as the Ice Pillar opened her eyes to glare at him.

“If you’ve come for Shinobu, she is not here. She’s on an errand and will not be back until early morning.” Y/N turned her attention away from him and back towards the garden, her voice stony.

At that moment, there were a million things Kyojuro could have said to the Ice Pillar.

How are you?

I missed the way you glare at me.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

Any of those options would have been far better than what came tumbling out of his mouth.

“I hadn’t realized you were indecent. My apologies.”

Y/N’s head snapped back to him, her eyes chips of ice. “Indecent?” She rose from her seat on the engawa and faced him fully, and Rengoku nearly groaned.

Indecent, indeed.

Y/N was showing more skin than Kanroji did on a regular day. As she stood, Rengoku saw that she was hardly wearing any clothing at all, save for the haori draped loosely around her frame.

The Ice Pillar wore no top but the bindings around her chest, leaving a sizeable swath of her midriff exposed to the summer air. Whatever she wore as bottoms could hardly be labeled as “pants,” given that their hem ended just short of the middle of her thigh, leaving the vast majority of her legs exposed to anyone who would happen to walk by.

The Flame Pillar felt as though he were overheating, and he tugged uselessly at the collar of his uniform shirt. As he looked over the scowling Ice Pillar, Rengoku found himself unable to remember why he had come to the Mansion at all.

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

(Y/N’s POV)

(Earlier that day)

“Ta-da!” Mitsuri sang as she pulled the small bundle from behind her, a grin wide on her face. “A gift from Shinobu and myself!”

Y/N peered down quizzically at the small, folded bunch of cloth in the Love Pillar’s hands. “What is it?”

“A new take on the Corps’ uniform,” Shinobu replied crisply, sitting down on the tatami floor of her office. “I designed it myself, and Mitsuri sewed it.”

“But what is it?” Y/N pressed.

Mitsuri joined Shinobu on the floor. “Your new training pants. Altered, so that you have more flexibility and less irritation against your wound.”

Y/N held up the tiny scrap of fabric between her index finger and thumb. “Are you telling me these are pants?”

Mitsuri and Shinobu nodded, smiling.

Y/N looked incredulously at the two women. “But where are the pants?”

Mitsuri laughed. “Think of it as a cross between the uniform skirt and pants, but more modified.”

Shinobu nodded. “I used the same material that our uniform is made out of but designed it in a way to be more flexible – it will mold to your body rather than require you to use a belt to keep it up.” Y/N unfurled the cloth and gaped down at it. “They likely aren’t suitable for public, but around here and during your training, they should be perfectly adequate.”

“Perfectly adequate?” Y/N repeated, turning the garment over in her hands. “Shinobu, these are underclothes! Not pants!” The Ice Pillar could not stop herself from giggling. “My legs will be entirely exposed!”

“Try them on!” Mitsuri urged. “Shinobu and I estimated they would hit around mid-thigh, so you’ll still have some coverage.” Mitsuri looked down at her own skirt in consideration. “Slightly more so than I do.”

Y/N groaned but removed her uniform pants and slid into her friends’ gift. She was surprised at how comfortable they felt; they had a similar feel to the chest bindings most of the women in the Corps wore, in terms of fit. The black bottoms had no true waistband, but fit snuggly at the dip of her waist, before hugging her hips and thighs until the hem cut right above the middle of her thigh.

“How do they feel?” Shinobu asked as Y/N inspected the new garment.

Y/N turned from side to side, testing their flexibility. “Good. They don’t seem to rub against the scar at all.” Y/N smiled devilishly at her friends. “Even if they do leave little to the imagination.”

MItsuri giggled. “I hadn’t noticed Y/N, but you have – oh, what did Uzui call it?” She scrunched her eyebrows in thought. “Oh! An ‘easy and deliverable type of butt!’” The three girls laughed, carefree as Y/N wiggled her hips suggestively in front of her friends, her heart warm at the care and consideration they had put into their gift.

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

Y/N mused that Mitsuri’s assessment of how she looked in the undershorts had been correct as Rengoku’s eyes raked over her as she stood tall before him, an unmistakable glint of hunger glowing in his amber pools.

Until they snagged on the thick, curved gash that extended from the band of her bottoms to just over her belly button.

In an instant, simmering fire of the Flame Pillar’s gaze had been snuffed out, something harder and colder taking over as he glared at where Upper Moon Six had buried his poisoned sickle within her.

Under any other circumstance, Y/N might have felt self-conscious at the mixture of frigid contempt that pulled on Rengoku’s face as he ran his eyes over her scar, but at that moment, it only made her blood boil.

“You should return to your room. You shouldn’t be out here exposed like this.” Rengoku said after a moment, his eyes moving away from her to stare over her shoulder, resolutely avoiding her gaze.

Y/N wondered briefly if it were possible to make someone combust with the fire of their stare. She was so tired and so angry at the way in which he demanded she stay at arm’s length yet felt utterly entitled to boss her around.

She decided then that she would not comply. Instead, Y/N took one step and then another, and again until she pushed past him, marching intently up the path she knew led away from the Butterfly Estate and to a secluded, grassy, hilled clifftop.

“Stop — Y/L/N” Rengoku growled, lunging after her, but Y/N, despite her injured state, was still faster than he, and she twisted out of his grasp before he could grab her and haul her back to the Mansion.

She probably looked insane, and maybe she was -- barely dressed, hair unbound, and striding towards that grassy hill up the winding path from Shinobu’s estate like she had any idea what she was doing.

The Flame Pillar followed.

—————————————————————--------

Apart from her close friendship with the Insect Pillar, there was another reason Y/N spent so much time in and around the Butterfly Mansion — its view.

Though she supposed this secret area she’d discovered couldn’t really be counted as part of Shinobu’s Estate — it was, after all, up a rather steep and twisting climb from the western-most point of her friend’s manor, and one could scarcely see the lights of the house once they ascended the small cliff.

Her thighs ached after nearly two months of disuse as she stormed up the steep incline, narrowly avoiding the sharp, twisting branches of the ancient trees that had concaved over the beaten path, forming a tunnel of gnarled wood that forced her to duck her head to navigate.

Y/N’s chest tightened as she neared the end of the path, the steady beat of the Flame Pillar’s footsteps trailing closely behind her.

When she finally emerged from the thicket of branches, she felt as though she could breathe again.

The path had given way to a cliff-top clearing. Soft, emerald grass covered the earthen floor, peppered with various wildflowers in vibrant hues of periwinkle, white, and pink. Towards the center was a thick, ancient oak tree, with a trunk as wide as a small hut, Its leaves ruffled lazily in the slight summer breeze. Fat hotaru floated idly above the grass while the crickets hummed.

The clearing extended to a point before dropping into a rocky cliff. Had it been a night of a new moon, Y/N would never risk coming out here for fear of stumbling too close to the cliff’s edge. But that night, the moon was full and its silver light was so bright that Y/N could see all the way to the opposite of the clearing, down to the summer irises swaying in the warm night air.

It was a pity that instead of feeling the warm serenity she normally had when she came out to her little hideaway, she felt nothing but boiling anger and a growing headache.

“You need to go back inside,” Rengoku said from behind her. Y/N ground her teeth, turning sharply on her heel to face him.

“Why do you care — I thought you only did that when I’m unconscious.” She bit back, and it felt good to see him be the one who flinched for once. “Or maybe it’s when you think I’m dying?”

She laughed, derisively. “You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve long since forgotten the rules of your game. You change them so often, you see.”

“Go back to the Butterfly Mansion, Y/L/N. You shouldn’t be out here. Not in your current state.” He said, voice as hard and unforgiving as stone.

“I’ve told you already that you are not in a position to order me around!” Y/N snapped, her words and her eyes chips of ice as she glared at him.

He was so infuriating — he had told her, in so many ways, that she meant nothing to him, and yet here he was, glowering at her as though her very existence incensed him.

“You’ve been nothing but unkind to me since I awoke, and you’ve given me no explanation!” She took a step towards him.

“Stop,” the Flame Pillar bit out, barely concealing the way he trembled with rage. “Do not take another step. Turn around and go back inside.”

If Y/N had looked pissed before, she looked downright furious now.

“Why did you come to see me while I was unconscious?” Y/N demanded, shaking. “You came every day, yet the second I wake up, you stop?”

His refusal to answer her, to even look at her, only made her seethe.

“You’re a coward, Rengoku.”

Rengoku’s teeth gnashed together, his fists balling tightly by his sides as he drew upon every ounce last shred of sanity, of restraint, left within him.

“Go. In. Side.” He ground out dangerously, his voice dropping into a growl on the last syllable.

But the Ice Pillar took another step towards him, her eyes blazing with a fire that could outburn his own.

“No.”

Rengoku’s jaw flexed. “Y/L/N-“

“I said no, Rengoku.” She was now within arm’s reach of the rigid Flame Pillar.

His eyes met hers, cold and hard, but she did not balk. She went in for the kill. “You have no say over my choices when my life is meaningless to you.”

Y/N watched the blow land, and land hard.

“Meaningless?” Rengoku looked at her and there was a new fire in his gaze, a hot, angry fire that threatened to burn the grassy overlook around them to cinders. “You believe I think your life is meaningless?”

This time, it was Rengoku who advanced towards her, bringing her within an arm’s length, and forcing her to tilt her head up to hold his raging stare.

“Do you have any idea — any at all — what it was like to see you, half dead in Uzui’s arms?” Rengoku’s voice dark, and harsh as he narrowed his eyes at her. “Or what it was like to have to carry you to Kocho, not knowing whether your heart would give out before I could get you there?”

Y/N refused to cower beneath the intensity of his gaze, her chin lifting defiantly. “Do I know what it was like?” She hissed; hackles raised.

“Thank you Rengoku, truly — thank you.” Y/N laughed, but it was devoid of any humor. “I am so glad that you’ve finally given me something to work with — so those are your rules, are they?” She was toe to toe with the Flame Hashira, glowering down at her.

“Well since we’re keeping score, Rengoku, do you know what it was like to see you broken and bleeding out on Kocho’s table after the incident on the train?”

“That’s not the same thing,” Rengoku shot back bitterly.

“How the fuck is it not-?”

“Because it wasn’t your mission to take!” Rengoku finally broke, his voice rising to a shout. He could not stop himself as his hands shot out and gripped Y/N’s shoulders, shaking her lightly in his torment.

“You have no idea how it felt to know that you had died — no matter how briefly — because you went on a mission in my place!”

“To know that — that you could still die because I had been too weak on that fucking train. Your death would have been my fault, Y/N!”

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

(Kyojuro’s POV)

And there it was: the truth that he had tried so hard to suppress, laid flat out in the open.

Everything that had happened to Y/N, the whole entire mess — had been entirely his fault.

His fault because he had been too weak to finish off Upper Moon Three, too weak to do anything but let the demon’s punch a hole through his chest like it was nothing.

Y/L/N and Uzui had saved themselves in the end; they’d completed their mission, defeating not just one, but two upper ranks. They hadn’t succumbed to their injuries until after they’d fulfilled their duties.

But him? He’d only been saved by the grace of the sun and the tireless efforts of the Kakushi.

He’d nearly lost his life and he had nothing to show for it. Rather than do anything to further the Corp’s ultimate goals, he’d only set them back, and nearly cost them something priceless in return — their Ice Pillar.

The woman he loved.

He had no right to love her, of course — not when his reprehensible weakness had forced her to be offered up to two upper moon demons on a silver platter.

She’d been there, the morning he awoke from his three-week-long coma. She’d been right by his bedside, a sob choking from her throat as she’d called for Kocho to come quick!

At first, he’d been confused, because he hadn’t understood why she was crying. He’d tried to reach for her, to wipe the tears spilling down her cheeks when the pain had slammed into him, causing him to seize, arm suspended in mid-air.

Never before had he not been in control of his body; it had sent him into a panic.

“No, Kyojuro, please don’t move!” Y/N had cried, calling him, for the first time, by his given name. a warm hand wrapping around the one he’d stretched out towards her, lowering it gently down to the bed. “Your injuries are too grave!”

He didn’t remember much after that, only what Kocho had filled him in on later — namely, that he’d begun to panic, his breathing flaring out of control as he’d tried to fight off Y/L/N, a Kakushi, and the Insect Pillar.

His recovery had been long and slow. His wounds from the Upper Three demon had resulted in significant muscle damage that had required weeks of intensive care and training in order to build it back up again.

Those long days spent at the Butterfly Mansion had given him time to stew; to rage against himself. He’d been frustrated, so unbelievably frustrated over his inability to swing his own sword for more than five minutes that he almost considered giving in and retiring.

And then Uzui arrived, and he’d mentioned an upcoming mission to the Entertainment District, that they had discussed prior to Kyojuro leaving for the damned train, and the Sound Pillar revealed that his intel suggested the possible presence of an Upper Rank.

Kyojuro had promised to accompany him, and then he’d woken up in Kocho’s hospital, and that mission had been taken off the table and given to her.

The panic he had felt had been indescribable; he had narrowly survived an encounter with an Upper Rank, but then he was forced to watch the woman he loved walk straight into the wolf's den, and he had been incapable of convincing her to stay behind.

While she had been gone, he had railed against and prayed to and cursed at the gods, begging them to bring her home, to let her come back to him alive and whole.

Instead, they’d sent her back as a near-corpse and had laughed at his pitiful attempts to save her.

And then, she had straddled that narrow divide between life and death for nearly two months, and he had been as helpless as a cat chasing a string — his desire forever in sight yet somehow always just beyond his reach.

After his brush with death, he’d made a commitment to himself not to think of his battle with the Upper Three demon, to not waste his skill and energy on the past, but rather focus his fury on ensuring that when they did meet again, he would emerge victorious. He’d certainly not given any thought to the demon’s slime-tongued words.

He’d been disgusted when the demon had propositioned turning him into its like — and outright offended that those creatures could ever compare to the beautiful transience of humanity.

But then he’d cradled Y/N, broken and dying in his arms, and for the first time, Kyojuro had understood the appeal of the Upper Three’s offer.

Because he would rather have lived in a world in which Y/N had been turned into his enemy than in one in which she did not exist at all.

The very thought had shaken him to his core; because it meant he was not fully dedicated to their cause. He had no right to call himself a Hashira; nor did he have any right to claim to love Y/L/N. Not when he’d so easily damn her out of his own selfishness. So he had run.

A coward, after all.

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

(Y/N’s POV)

Y/N was panting, her fury rippling off her in near-tangible waves.

“So, this whole thing,” she seethed, her voice shaking. “Your whole fucking attitude — has been because you’ve had your head so far up your ass, that you thought my injuries were your fault?”

It was unbelievable. It was ridiculous. And yet it was so Rengoku that it made her ears ring, made her see red as she tried to keep herself from imploding.

Rengoku said nothing, but she could see the way his eyes shuttered closed, his walls flying back up as he remained intent on keeping her out. He turned and began walking back towards the path back to the Estates.

“I was right — you ARE a coward!” She shrieked after him.

He froze. She stood there, heaving, daring him to turn around, to face her.

“Do not call me a coward again,” he said quietly, his back still to her, but his shoulders tensed, his fists balling once more at his sides.

Y/N smiled ruefully. “Then exactly what would you call what you’re doing now?.” Her lip curled into a sneer. “Run away, Rengoku. It’s what you do best.”

A flash of orange and white clouded her vision as Rengoku turned on his heel and closed the distance between them before she could draw another breath.

Y/N did not have time to react before his hands gripped either side of her jaw as he slammed his mouth down against hers, furious and heated.

It was not gentle; it was an angry clash of lips and teeth, but it also stoked a fire so hot in Y/N’s belly that she did not care, and she fully gave herself over to the bruising press of his lips against hers. She gladly opened up to him so that his tongue could slide into her mouth as one of his hands snaked behind her head to press her harder to him, demanding that she let him take and take until he was sated.

As quickly as it had begun, it was over. They broke apart with a gasp, leaping back from one another as though burned. Their chests heaved as they stared at one another.

There was a line drawn in the sand between them. If either of them crossed it, there would be no going back.

He was a coward, but she wasn’t. And she’d grown tired of this tedious dance of theirs.

Yet it surprised her all the same that he reached for her at the same time she moved for him, the two of them colliding like magnets as their mouths clashed together once more.

Rengoku kissed her like he was drowning, and she was his lifeline.

Y/N threw her arms around his neck and tugged him down closer to her, determined to take from him as much as he wanted to take from her.

The pair of them stumbled back against the ancient oak tree that sat back from the grassy cliff, Y/N caged against its bark by the Flame Pillar.

His hands gripped fistfuls of her haori as though he couldn’t decide whether to pull her closer or tug her away. His lips devoured each breathy moan he pulled from her as one hand tangled in her hair and pulled, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

She ran her hands through the fiery strands of his hair, gripping and tugging it as he explored her mouth was his demanding tongue. Y/N, emboldened by the way his fingers dug into her haori, let her hands roam from his hair and to his neck, and then to the rocky planes of his broad chest before settling on his hips as she tugged him flush against her.

His control was slipping, and fast. “Y/L/N, I can’t- I won’t be able to hold back.” Rengoku moaned into her mouth, his hands scrunching the fabric of her haori, his fingers desperately seeking to hold her closer to him. “Tell me to stop, Y/L/N.”

Y/N’s hands only buried deeper into his hair, tugging him harder against her as she slid her tongue into his waiting mouth.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered against his mouth between breaks for oxygen. “Never stop, Rengoku.”

Y/N pulled back from him, just enough to unlatch his hands from where they were buried in the back of her haori, and moved them inside its folds, right on her bare waist.

The burning weight of his hands felt exquisite.

Rengoku shuddered as he felt the smooth, soft dips of Y/N’s waist, his fingers digging into her flesh as he sought to touch more of her, his hands running across every inch that was not covered by her bindings or those glorious undershorts.

Lips still moving furiously against hers, Rengoku bent slightly to run his hands down the silken expanse of her thighs, gripping under her knees before hoisting her up to carry her away from the tree and lay her down in the velvety grass below.

Y/N felt as though she were on fire. The ache between her legs was almost maddening, and she was desperate to have the Flame Pillar sheathe himself inside her, to make her forget even her own name.

If she could not have his love, she could at least have this.

Her hands dragged down Rengoku’s front, coming to a rest at his belt before she began fumbling with the clasp. Y/N had just managed to undo it when Rengoku’s hands — large, warm, and much stronger than her own, wrapped around her wrists, stilling her.

“Not yet, you impatient woman,” he smirked against her mouth. He moved one wrist to join the other in his left hand before bringing her arms up over her head, pinning her to the ground.

Y/N whimpered and rolled her hips against his, impatient and demanding, wanting desperately to feel some relief as her core clenched wildly around nothing.

Rengoku chuckled darkly, the rich timbre of his voice causing her blood to nearly boil with her want, as he made his way down her body with his lips.

He first came to her chest bindings, growling in impatience as he nipped at one breast over the tightly wound fabric.

His fingers brushed against her sternum as he ripped her bindings straight down the middle, Y/N shuddering as the warm summer night’s air caressed her sensitive skin, her nipples pebbling at the change in temperature.

She waited for him to lavish her soft mounds, but the Flame Pillar paused, eyes narrowed on the valley between her breasts, right on the pale, lilac mark where he’d plunged Shinobu’s antidote into her heart.

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. He’d reacted poorly to the ribboned scar on her lower belly already, and now her once chance to finally have Rengoku in the way she’d so desperately longed to have him was about to be ruined.

But instead of pulling away from her in disgust, he leaned forward and pressed his lips softly against it the healed wound.

“I hadn’t realized I wounded you,” he murmured softly, reverently as he kissed it again. Y/N watched in bewilderment as he pressed his ear against her chest, letting his head rest there for a moment.

Listening to her heart hammer against her sternum.

“The sweetest music,” he whispered, pulling away to look at her not with lust but with unbounded tenderness.

Don’t look at me like that, she silently begged, don’t give me hope.

But as quickly as the moment had come, it passed and the esurient flame in Rengoku’s eyes flickered back to life. His lips continued down her abdomen, hot and needy until he reached the source of her near-fatal injury.

His mouth paused at the scar left by Upper Moon Six, the one he’d so callously glared at not even an hour before. This time, he ran his tongue along it, from the top to its base near her hipbone, pressing a fierce kiss against its end before continuing his descent.

“I will either have to thank my old Tsugoku the next time I see her,” Rengoku whispered darkly as he pulled at the soft waistband of Y/N’s undershorts with his teeth. “Or I shall have to burn her sewing room to cinders.” Rengoku’s fingers slid beneath the short hem of her bottoms, pulling them down inch by inch to expose her sensitive flesh.

Rengoku groaned when he saw Y/N was not wearing anything else beneath her scandalous bottoms. “Definitely burning.” His hands, so large and warm ran up the outer curve of her thighs, marveling at the silky smoothness of her skin. “Because you are far too tempting when wearing them.”

The Flame Pillar looked wild as he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the lower indent between Y/N’s hipbones as he kissed his way down to where she ached the most.

He ducked around the center of her desire in favor of sucking softly on her inner thigh. Y/N’s chest heaved as her hands flailed next to her, desperately seeking purchase, until the Flame Hashira caught them in his hands, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on her palms as their fingers interlaced.

“Rengoku - just fuck me already,” Y/N groaned as the Flame Pillar’s face settled between her thighs, his hot breath against her bare cunt causing her legs to attempt to clench shut.

“Well now, that won’t do,” Rengoku tutted, his hands withdrawing from hers as he wound his arms underneath both of her thighs, spreading them as wide as he could to expose her core to his heady gaze.

Rengoku leaned forward and lightly traced up her damp slit with the tip of his tongue. His amber irises which had been locked on hers, rolled back into his head as he groaned at her taste.

“I’m going to take my time with you. I’ve been dreaming of this for a long time, Y/N.” He warned, hands tightening around her thighs as he pressed a light kiss against her slit, teasing her.

In the back of her mind, Y/N registered that he’d used her first name. But the graze of his lips against her most sensitive flesh had her crying out his name, high-pitched and breathy, and she watched helplessly as the sound made Rengoku’s eyes turn black.

In an instant, he was upon her, and he was ravenous.

His mouth latched to her center as though she was an oasis in the middle of a blazing desert, and he was a man dying of thirst.

The way Rengoku’s teeth grazed her sensitive nub made her abdomen clench, and she fought against his ironclad grip on her thighs as they spasmed, desperate to clench around his head.

Y/N moaned, head thrown back into the soft summer grass as she felt herself grow wetter and wetter beneath the Flame Pillar, her hands desperately tugging and pinching at her breasts in an effort to feel more pleasure.

Y/N felt as though she was hurtling towards a cliff that she could not stop herself from tumbling over as Rengoku increased the intensity of his ministrations against her needy cunt.

“You taste,” he ground out through harsh drags of his tongue up her drenched folds, “like fucking paradise.”

His mouth latched around her clit, giving it a sharp suck that had Y/N seeing stars. She barely had time to recover, to acknowledge that she was at her tipping point when Rengoku thrust his tongue into her core and began to fuck her.

Y/N came apart the moment she felt his tongue enter her, a rush of her juices spilling over his relentless maw, but he held her hips down and continued his feast. His teeth grazed her clit over and over while his tongue pumped steadily in and out of her, and Y/N was close to sobbing at the overstimulation.

The Flame Pillar kept his eyes locked on hers the entire time, the amber orbs glowing almost ominously in the indigo night.

“I- fuck.” Y/N breathed, grinding unrestrainedly against the blonde’s greedy mouth. “Rengoku!”

The Ice Pillar tried to sit up, tried to grab her comrade’s hair to tell him that she couldn’t take it anymore, that she needed him, but Rengoku was faster. Unfurling a steely arm from where it had been locked around her thigh to hold her open to him, he reached up her torso, his large hand splaying across her upper abdomen to restrain her.

“Sit down,” he growled between thrusts of his tongue into her aching cunt, nipping harshly at her inner thigh. “I am not finished.”

Y/N whimpered beneath the weight of his hand holding her down against the earth and the nearly painful ecstasy that Rengoku bestowed upon her between her legs.

Whether it was in praise for her obedience or a further act of torture, Rengoku then pressed his face flush against her core and rocked it harshly from side to side, his nose and the burgeoning stubble along his jaw scraping against her overstimulated and sensitive flesh.

Y/N slapped her hand against her mouth to stifle the howl that tore from her throat. Rengoku repeated the movement; it felt wonderful. It felt obscene. It made Y/N’s thighs contract around his head as her stomach dipped inward and a gush of her juices spilled out of her, more powerful than before, dampening the collar of the Flame Pillar’s haori.

For a breath, Y/N thought she would die of embarrassment until she felt Rengoku’s mouth vibrate against her from his groan of satisfaction. His tongue thrust once, twice more into her aching core before he withdrew completely, satisfaction tugging at the corners of his smirking lips.

But Rengoku looked nowhere near sated as he gazed down hungrily at her, wantonly spread out against the grass, the shredded pieces of her training attire strewn about, save for her haori.

“I will give you one last chance to end this now,” Rengoku whispered, kneeling above her but no longer touching her. “Tell me to stop, and I will. I will walk away, and no one will know.”

Though her body already ached from the intensity of Rengoku’s mouth upon her, she could not fathom stopping here, not when she’d barely begun to taste him herself. The thought of rolling aside to pull on the tattered remains of her clothing, to return to her estate and awake tomorrow as though he had not melted every icy reservation she’d held with his touch, was enough to make her want to cry.

Though her limbs felt boneless, she summoned all her strength to reach toward the Flame Hashira, to beckon him to return to her.

“I want you, Rengoku,” Y/N said, her voice a breathy whisper as tears clung to her eyelashes. “Please.”

Rengoku’s pupils exploded, his eyes darkening as he covered her nude body with his own. Y/N nearly sobbed in relief as his lips roughly caught hers, one hand coming up to cradle her face while the other snaked beneath her head, tilting it to the side so he could deepen his claim over her mouth.

Y/N’s hands rose, shakily, to pull at the buttons of his uniform top, desperate to feel his skin burn against hers.

“On one condition,” Rengoku said, moving his lips from hers to press against her ear, Y/N shivering. “You must call me by my name,”

“Rengoku?” Y/N questioned her mind too fogged by her own desire.

He nipped lightly under her jaw before pulling his face back from hers, smirking slightly at the way she whined when avoided her attempt to kiss him again.

“My true name.”

With clarity, Y/N realized what he desired. But he had teased her far too much already, and she yearned to return the favor.

So she looked up at him through her eyelashes, teeth sinking into her lower lip in such a way that made the Flame Hashira’s eyes darken.

“Please, please, Kyojuro,” she whispered, lancing a hand up his bicep. “Take me.”

The growl that clawed its way out of the heaving chest of the Flame Pillar made Y//N’s thighs clamp together. Rengoku — Kyojuro — pounced on her, and Y/N summoned all her residual strength to rip his uniform shirt open.

Kyojuro moaned into her neck as his shirt gave way and Y/N’s hands came to rest against his bare skin, her nails raking down his taut pectorals to the rigid planes of his chiseled abdomen.

Her lips began descending the path carved by her nails when she drew short at the dark, thick starburst-shaped scar that covered his shoulder and left pectoral. Kyojuro’s breath seized as she pressed her lips ever so softly against it, turning so she could look up at him from beneath her lashes.

Kyojuro was panting as she nuzzled against his scar, kissing it once more before gently gliding her hand over his heart and resting it there, letting herself savor the strong, sturdy beat from within his chest.

Just as he did before, she resumed her trail down his body, her lips coming to the edge of his pants when his hands wound themselves in her hair, every nerve in his body alight as she licked her way up the small happy trail that stopped just below his belly button.

As much as he wanted to feel her mouth around him, Kyojuro had been driven to the brink of insanity by Y/N’s touch, and his resolve was quickly dwindling.

“Y/N — my flame — I can’t wait,” Kyojuro said by way of apology, as he covered her hands with his own to still them on his belt. He slipped his hands down to grip her wrists, bringing them together in one hand and moving her arms up over her head, pinning them against the grasp. With his free hand, Kyojuro loosened his belt and his pants, and shimmied them down, kicking them off behind him. Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight of his proud length as it bounced against his belly button.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She was no stranger to the male body, but this – she’d never had anyone compare to Kyojuro’s size or girth.

Kyojuro noticed her hesitation. “Is this – have you ever --?” Kyojuro breathed, hovering above her. It did not matter to him whether she had or had not, but he wanted to ensure that he did not hurt her.

Y/N shook her head. “No, it’s not my first time – but you are the first one to be so…well endowed.” Y/N flushed as Kyojuro laughed softly above her, and she felt his lips graze hers.

He pulled back slightly, reaching to grip the base of his aching cock tapping it against her soaked cunt in a warning and in permission.

Y/N seized beneath him at the spark of hot pleasure that was sent crackling up her spine as he rubbed his velvety head against the most sensitive part of her core. “Kyojuro,” she hissed through clenched teeth, rolling her hips impatiently towards him.

The mushroomed tip of his cock pushed into her entrance and Y/N felt herself go cross-eyed. It was heaven; pure, unadulterated, blissful heaven.

He was insistent on easing his thick length into her, but the throbbing between Y/N’s legs had grown nearly unbearable. He still wasn’t close enough, not nearly as much as she needed him to be.

Boldly, Y/N locked her ankles against Kyojuro’s backside, and with all her might, hauled him into her in a single stroke.

“Fuck!” he yelled, unable to restrain his volume as Y/N forced him to become fully seated within her. Her core was impossibly tight and so fucking warm and wet that it had been a true exercise of self-restraint not to spill himself inside her right then.

Y/N nearly screamed in pleasured relief at the way her body burned and stretched around Kyojuro’s considerable length, his base pressed flush against her sensitive clit as she began to grind furiously against him, desperate to relieve the friction that made her ache.

Kyojuro was still panting from the way Y/N had slammed him into her, nearly trembling with restraint as he willed himself not to finish before they’d truly begun.

Once certain that he would not climax like some green boy, he laughed quietly under his breath. The dark sound caused Y/N’s eyes to fly open, and her stomach flipped at the wicked glint in his eyes as he stared at her like a hunter stalking its prey.

Kyojuro leaned forward and took one of her breasts, harshly into his mouth, grazing his teeth over her nipple hard enough to make Y/N cry out in slight pain before he lapped at it soothingly with his tongue.

“You want me to fuck you, is that it?” He murmured between his ministrations, leaving fresh marks all over aching mounds.

Y/N could hardly make a sound as Kyojuro withdrew almost completely from her heat before slamming into her once, the Ice Pillar nearly choking on the breath that flew from her chest with his force.

Desperately — pathetically — Y/N nodded, whimpering.

“If that’s how you want it,” Kyojuro growled against her breast, giving her nipple one harsh nip with his teeth before pulling himself off her.

He sat on his knees, back straight as he began to pound relentlessly into her, his hands gripping her backside and holding her flush against his strong thighs. Y/N’s head remained thrown back against the earth, her fingers tearing at the soft grass beneath her.

Rengoku’s movements were just like those he wielded in battle — powerful; all-consuming; relentless; and unforgiving.

Y/N had never considered herself to be a particularly vocal person when engaged in carnal activities, but the way that Rengoku’s cock hammered into her spasming core over and over had reduced her to a moaning and whimpering mess. The only intelligible thing that fell from her lips was his name — Kyojuro.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” Kyojuro grunted out between forceful snaps of his hips against hers, the night air alive with the lewd squelching of Y/N’s dripping cunt as he pistoned into her.

Y/N looked to see the Flame Pillar’s eyes locked on her breasts as they bounced with the force of his thrusts. Between the moans and whimpers he pulled from her with every punishing thrust of his hips against hers, she lightly dragged her fingers from their place in the grass to her hipbone, and then up to trace teasingly around her peaked breast.

Kyojuro’s eyes followed every move, his thrusts hardening as she pinched her nipple and let out a breathy little scream, her walls pulsing around his aching length.

“Fuck,” Kyojuro grit, feeling himself twitch within her as he watched Y/N play with herself, spurring him to go faster, deeper within her.

He moved his hand under one of her knees and lifted her leg over his shoulder, allowing him to plunge deeper into her silken heat, and he teasingly drew his fingers up and down her outer thigh.

At that moment, as Kyojuro was poised against the silhouette of the moon, his amber eyes glowing as he watched where he appeared and disappeared inside her, the realization hit Y/N like a storm, and it knocked her entirely off her axis.

She was in love with Kyojuro.

Who else could make her feel so sacred and yet so angry? Who else had been capable of slipping past every wall she’d built within herself, capable of getting her to let her guard down before consuming her so furiously she had not realized she’d ever been in danger?

He was fire, she was ice. One of them had to give to the other. She’d just always thought it would be him giving into her.

Yet there, beneath the moonlight, her climax rising above her like a tidal wave, Y/N realized that she was powerless against the waves that rose to pull her under, to never again let her up for air.

Distantly, Y/N felt the Flame Pillar’s callused thumb find her clit and her climax slammed into her, and she succumbed to the endless sea called Kyojuro.

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

As Y/N broke apart around him, Kyojuro swore he’d never seen anything as beautiful in his entire life.

She shattered over him with the prettiest scream he’d ever heard, and he could barely make out the drawn-out syllables of his name as her hips jerked up against his while her inner walls threatened to squeeze the life from him.

Y/N finally collapsed back against the ground, her body limp from the exhaustion of her pleasure. Kyojuro then moved in chase of his own release, his hips pressed solidly against hers as he rutted his cock deep within her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hands tightening around Y/N’s waist. The familiar electricity of impending release tingled at the base of Kyojuro’s spine, and his stomach began to clench as he began his ascent to his climax. “Y/N — I am going to finish soon,” his head was thrown back, and his groans were loud enough to alert anyone nearby of exactly what was transpiring between the two Hashira. “Please — tell me where--”

“Inside,” Y/N gasped, her legs tightening around Kyojuro’s hips in a feeble attempt to keep him within her, to ensure that he wouldn’t yet leave her. “Please, Kyojuro, stay.”

Kyojuro was a rational man, and he knew of one major reason not to allow his seed to spill inside Y/N’s heavenly body. But all those rationalities flew out the window at the sound of her wanton and needy whimpers and the way her heat fluttered around him and Kyojuro did not think he could pull out of her if he wanted to.

Kyojuro’s thrusts became more and more frenzied and bruising, with the Flame Hashira hardly dragging his twitching length out of her as he neared his own climax.

“Hold onto me,” he panted, falling forward so that his chest was pressed flush against Y/N’s, one arm going to wrap around her waist while the other snaked over to where her arm lay in the grass, gripping her wrist to pin it up over her head as his fingers interlocked tightly with hers.

Y/N hiked her legs higher up his waist, crossing them at her shins so that he was buried deep within her. Her free arm looped under the one he had braced above her head to wrap around his back, her fingers digging into the rippling muscle and scarred skin that littered his shoulders.

“Make me yours, Kyojuro,” she whispered against his neck, squeezing his hips with her thighs.

Y/N felt his entire body tense at her words and Kyojuro’s moans turned into shouts as he gave one final, deep thrust within her before he exploded. His hand tightened fiercely around hers with the force of his climax,

The pleasure that surged up his spine had been white hot as he pushed himself as deeply as he could possibly go within Y/N’s vice-like core. Kyojuro was not a novice to pleasure, but he had never finished as hard or as much as he did buried within her.

Kyojuro canted his hips, prolonging his release as he continued to empty himself into her, coming down from his earth-shattering high. Y/N mewled against his throat, her lips brushing against his sensitive pulse point as her legs spasmed. once more around his hips.

He finally stilled within her, arms shaking as he braced himself above her, to keep from crushing the exhausted woman beneath him.

He lowered his head down to her level. “Are you all right, my flame?” He panted, pressing a kiss between her brows before he rested his forehead heavily against hers.

She looked up at him from under her eyelashes and nodded shakily.

He no longer could keep himself from collapsing against Y/N, but as he fell forward, he gripped her and rolled, pulling her to his chest with his leaking cock still nestled deeply between her legs.

“I don’t want to push you away,” Kyojuro murmured softly after a moment, his chest finally easing as his breathing slowed.

Y/N made a show of looking down to where they were still joined, the Flame Pillar’s pearly seed slowly leaking out of her and onto the grass below them. “I think I’m about as close to you as physically possible, Rengoku.”

Kyojuro rolled his eyes and ground his hips slightly into her, causing Y/N to squeak against him.

“Quiet, woman, I’m trying to apologize to you.” He trailed his fingers up and down her spine as she nestled back against his chest, chin perched on his pectoral as she waited for him to continue.

“I was just so angry. After the incident on the train, when I woke up in Kocho’s hospital — I was furious. With myself.” Amber eyes met hers and softened to pools of melted honey. “It was never you I was angry with.”

Y/N held his gaze evenly, her voice firm. “But you took it out on me all the same.” It wasn’t an angry accusation — it was the truth; ugly and sharp. But it was real, and so was the tentative, knowing hope in her eyes.

“Yes,” Kyojuro breathed. “Yes, I did. And I am so sorry for it, Y/N.” His hand reached up to gently cup the side of her face, thumb smoothing over the soft expanse of her cheek. “May I ask for your forgiveness?”

Y/N leaned her head into his warm palm, and smiled, softly.

“You may ask, Kyojuro.”

He brushed his thumb along her lower lip. “Can you forgive me, Y/N?”

Y/N threw a leg out over his other hip, straddling him beneath her, though moving so fluidly that they remained connected at their base.

She rolled her hips against his, and he felt himself begin to harden within her once more. Kyojuro moaned softly, head falling back against the earth as he brought his hands up to steady her, fingers digging gently into her hips as she repeated the movement, again and again, until he’d fully stiffened within her.

“Yes Kyojuro,” she sighed, hands coming to brace themselves against his abdomen as she began to ride him. “I forgive you.”

Kyojuro groaned, his head thrown back as he began to gently grind up into her, goosebumps erupting over his flesh as she lightly raked her nails over his pectorals and the hard ridges of his abdomen.

He wanted so very badly to lose himself within his pleasure, to allow Y/N to consume him whole and never let him go again, but his atonement was not complete.

Because Y/N had given him every opportunity to confess to her before, and he had been careless with them; she would not open that door herself again.

So he would.

“And may I give you my heart, Y/N?” He asked, his hands gliding sensually up from her hips to brace themselves on either side of her sensitive waist, squeezing her firmly.

Her pace had stuttered slightly once his words registered, eyes widening as she looked down at him, and Kyojuro hated that he was the reason the shadow of doubt lingered in her eyes.

“Is it truly mine?” She breathed, resuming the intoxicating rise and fall and push and grind of her hips, breasts beginning to bounce as she picked up her pace.

Kyojuro’s mouth watered, but he restrained himself, holding her gaze. “It was only ever yours, Y/N.”

Y/N cried out then, her hips beginning to drop and roll into his with urgency. By the way her damp heat began to pulse and constrict around him, Kyojuro knew that she was barreling towards her release once more.

One hand left its searing position at her waist to drift down to where they were connected, his rough thumb toying with the sensitive nub that had her heavenly cunt squeezing him for dear life.

“My beautiful flame,” he moaned, “how lucky I am to have such a darling god be the keeper of my heart.”

Kyojuro rolled into her from below again, the hand still braced on her waist guiding himself to push deeper into her, as his thumb began to press harder into the apex of her thighs.

“Sweet tempest, please,” Kyojuro panted, the relentless squeeze of Y/N’s walls around his aching length beginning to drive him to the point of madness. “Please, may I have your love?”

Y/N’s moans were piercing as she half-sobbed above him, head thrown back into the night sky, the hoary glow of the moon making her look like a celestial deity given human form as she writhed above him.

“Yes!” Y/N cried, “Yes Kyojuro, you have always had my love!”

The moment the words fell from her lips, Kyojuro jolted upright, coming into a sitting position as Y/N’s legs instantly wrapped around him. He wound one arm around her waist to bounce her in his lap, the other moving to circle his fingers around her nub.

Kyojuro nuzzled her nose with his own, his lips mere centimeters from hers as he pressed his forehead against her and held her eyes. “Then come for me, Y/N,” he murmured, his breath tickling her lips as he nuzzled her again. “Come for me, my love.”

Y/N seized around him like a vice, her head falling back as she unleashed a euphoric cry.

The force of her climax had caused her to arch backward in Kyojuro’s lap, thrusting her breasts up and forward, and Kyojuro bent to suck one into his greedy mouth, his own release imminent. The warm sticky rush of her pleasure combined with the way her velvety, molten walls constricted around him had Kyojuro seeing stars as his seed shot into her, hot and fast, his strangled groan muffled only by the soft plush of Y/N’s breast as he filled her to her brim for the second time that night.

For a long moment, neither Pillar said anything as they came down from their mutual highs, Y/N’s head pressed against Kyojuro’s shoulder while the Flame Pillar kept his arms firmly around her waist, his fingers trailing up and down her spine.

“Y/N, are you all right?” He murmured into her ear, still buried deep within her heat.

Y/N nodded sleepily against his skin, savoring how full and complete she felt perched in his lap.

“I love you, Kyojuro.” She said so softly that the Flame Pillar thought his heart might break. Kyojuro pulled away slightly to bring his fingers beneath her chin where she lay against his shoulder. Gently, he tilted her face towards his and captured her lips with his own.

“My darling flame,” He murmured against her lips as they broke apart, his eyes sweeping over her face, committing every detail of her beauty to memory. “Thank you.”

Y/N gave him a lazy smile. “I cannot be your flame, Kyojuro,” she teased, “Not when I am made of ice.”

Kyojuro flipped her back beneath him and danced his lips teasingly across the bridge of her nose. “Don’t you know, my beautiful foil, that ice can burn just as well as flame?” He pressed a feather-light kiss against her lips. “And I have been consumed by your silvery fire since I first laid eyes on you at Final Selection.”

Y/N looked up at him in wonder, her hand coming to rest against his face as she adoringly caressed his cheek.

“I love you, Y/N. I am so sorry it took me until now to say it.”

-------------------------------------------------—

Epilogue

Y/N made back it into her room, sight unseen, just as dawn had crept over the horizon.

Feet bare, she padded softly over to her waiting bed, shrugging out of Kyojuro’s uniform shirt and falling into her blankets, not caring at the growing discomfort she felt as the Flame Pillar’s seed dried in her undershorts.

She just wanted to sleep.

Y/N and Kyojuro had come together twice more before the pair realized that morning was imminent, and they needed to return to their respective dwellings before anyone noticed they were gone.

Y/N had lamented that Kyojuro had shredded her chest bindings beyond salvation and had worried she’d be forced to sneak back into the Butterfly Mansion with nothing but her haori to cover her bare chest when Kyojuro slid his uniform shirt over her shoulders.

“No one will think twice if they see me bare,” he’d said by way of explanation, gaze dropping momentarily to appreciate the marks he had left dotted across her breasts before rising back to her face. “I would like to keep you hidden, however.”

Kyojuro then fastened each button one by one, beginning from the bottom as he kissed his way up Y/N’s torso until his lips found the sensitive spot beneath her jaw, which he’d nipped.

It had taken everything in her not to throw him down and have him for the fifth time.

Kyojuro had walked with her as far as the edge of the path back to Shinobu’s before parting her with a sweet kiss and a promise to return to her later in the morning. He had also mentioned, somewhat mischievously, that he would be inquiring into when Y/N could expect to be discharged from the Butterfly Mansion and return to her own Estate.

Her empty, person-free estate.

Y/N collapsed into her bed, ready to sleep for a precious few hours before her training would begin anew.

“So, do you mind sharing where you’ve been all night?” A dangerously sweet voice chirped from over by the door.

Y/N shot up out of her bed, stomach falling out of her ass, as she faced the smiling, enraged Insect Pillar seated primly atop her wooden stool opposite of her.

“I was quite worried, you know,” Shinobu tutted, the honey of her smile poisoned by the violence in her eyes.

Y/N had never been one to be at a loss for words, a quick comment, or a snappy retort always on hand when the situation called for it.

But to her horror, her mind had gone dreadfully blank, and her tongue was swollen stupid in her mouth.

Shinobu smiled like she knew, eyes slowly looking her over, and Y/N was left with the uncomfortable feeling that her friend could see every way she’d allowed Kyojuro to utterly defile her.

“Will you be in need of a contraceptive?” Shinobu asked lightly, and Y/N felt like she would drop dead right then and there.

“…Yes, please.” She managed to squeak, and the Insect Pillar turned to leave.

“I will bring it with your breakfast.” Her hand closed around the doorknob but stilled.

“And Y/N?”

The Ice Pillar whimpered as her friend turned to look back at her, all smiles and throbbing forehead veins.

“If you ever keep the younger girls awake from the sounds of your activities with the Flame Pillar again, I will poison you both.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 5 months ago

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The Soldier Of Death (4)- Fighting The Enemy

Natasha Romanoff X Super Soldier Reader 18+

Summary: Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?

This fic will contains dark themes. Please read these warnings before starting any of these chapters: graphic descriptions of murder, violence, gore and torture, heavy angst, mental issues.

Please consider these warnings before reading

Word Count: 2.3k

General Masterlist | The Soldier Of Death Masterlist

Chapter Warning: Graphic Depiction of Violence and murder, dark thoughts

—

Crimson stained your hands, the warm liquid slowly dripping down your forearms as you leaned over the body, fragments of skull blending with flesh and brain being held in your trembling hands.

Eyes pleaded you for their life as you stood over their body, words spilling desperately out of their lips as they stared up at you, begging for you to take mercy. Their pleas were cut short, blood splattering on the floor behind them, the life gradually draining out of their eyes.

A gut wrenching cry was torn out of their throat when your hand forced its way past skin and bones, fingers roughly gripping onto their intestines, squeezing with vigour for another primal sound to be ripped out of them before pulling hard, their body falling limp to the ground. A small squelch follows when you drop the organ next to their corpse, not even giving the scene a second glance.

Your hand hits the side of your head as you twitch it to the side, shaking the thoughts out of your mind, trying to focus on your mission.

Your mind was slowly fracturing into pieces, various memories flooding your thoughts as you walked through the eerie hallway, boots echoing in the abandoned space. You weren't sure what had happened, the only thing that you knew for certain was that you were to obey. You didn't have a choice. It was engraved in you. Listen to them. Kill for them. That was all you had to do.

No we don't.

We are better than them.

We aren't a toy for them to play with.

Your jaw clenched at the irritating voice sounding around in your head again, merging with the violent flashbacks, further adding to your unpleasant mood. You were a weapon. Weapons didn't need to think. They just kill. Yet, the incessant part of you was adamant we were stronger, more powerful than them, we could do anything if you just gave over control.

Yes, see, you're getting it now. Give me control.

"So what? You can murder everyone," you mutter out loud, the mask muffling your words as you argue with your alter ego, knowing that, despite the things you have done based on the flashbacks, the things they have done... They were darker, more sinister, they enjoyed it. You didn't. You never would. You did what you had to do to survive.

It's what they deserve.

You want to scream at the voice, begging it to shut up. Yes they deserve to die for what they had done to you but you weren't going to be the ones to kill them.

Every time you come back, you somehow try to be more virtuous.

It groans, a scoff leaving you. You were trying to make up for the things you had done, be a little more merciful, there was nothing wrong with that.

You can't. We can't be good anymore. There's no point in trying to redeem us. We're already a monster, there's no changing that.

At its words, you remain silent, doing your best to ignore them as you wander through the hallways, your eyes focussing on small indents on the wall.

A violent scream was torn out of you, your hands doing everything in their power to stop the guards dragging you back to your cell, your veins burning with agony as the serum entered your bloodstream. Your fingers dug into the concrete, leaving indents as you pried away at the stone, desperately trying to stop them from taking you back.

You shook your head once more, the painful memory soon fading away, leaving you confused. You suddenly seemed to recognise the building you were in, your fingers slotting against the marks, the handprints slightly smaller, your mind too broken to place the significance of the memory.

Pushing down the screams echoing in your mind and shaking off the further memories that invaded your thoughts, you worked your way around the building, searching for the room you were instructed to find. All you knew was that there was a flash drive in there that Hydra needed to keep out of the Avengers' hands, the team apparently gaining intel on this base.

You weren't expecting them to locate it yet nor for them to be in the base, but your general warned you to stay on guard, the order more difficult than expected due to the instability of your mind.

You were nearly at the room but a gnawing feeling made you pause in your tracks, head tilting curiously at the room you were stopped outside of, your hand moving without thought to open the door, revealing the dark and empty concrete cell. You swallowed nervously at the sight of dry blood staining the walls, the floor and even parts of the ceiling, another flashback painfully invading your minds, causing you to lose focus.

***

"I don't have a good feeling about this Steve," Natasha mutters while the two of them enter the base, Wanda entering through a different exit, the team confident in her magic ability and training to handle herself.

"Neither," he sighs out in agreement, their bodies almost silently walking through the abandoned building, Natasha taking the corridors to the left while Steve went right, splitting off to cover more ground.

Nerves etched away at Natasha, the spy confused at the sudden emotion she was feeling. She never got nervous, so why was she on edge? Her gun was firmly gripped in her hand, creeping through the hallways with it raised, ready to fire if needed.

Emerald green searched through various corridors, her eyes glossing over with crestfallen look at the marks all over the wall, indicating a clear struggle all the way down the hall until it reached the isolated steel door at the end. Natasha was already walking towards the room when a quiet, pained noise caught her attention, her finger ready on the trigger as she rounded the corner, pausing at the sight before her.

Your ominous figure stood facing an empty room, hands twitching by your side, unaware of the spy near you, or the Captain who rounded the corner on the other side of the hallway, pausing when Natasha signalled for him to do so.

"Don't make me kill them," you almost whimper out, lost in a spiral of memories, your mind replaying the broken memory. "They're just children."

"I won't repeat it again Soldat," his voice low and commanding at your ear, malice lacing his next words, "Don't leave the room until every single one of them is dead."

Steve raises his shield ready to throw at your words, confusion written across his and the redhead's face.

I told you. We're a monster.

Snapping at the voice inside your head, your fist collides with the wall, trying to express your anger, confusion and hurt, when the sound of metal gliding through the air reaches your ear, body turning to the side, hand catching the vibranium disk.

Steve's face pales a little at how unaffected you were by his throw, most people being knocked back a little, his expression swiftly switching to shock when it's thrown back forcefully at him. He has to take a couple steps back when he catches it to stay balanced, your body making it's way over to him, eyes slowly becoming lifeless as you flicker between having and losing control.

He uses his shield to protect him when your fist collides with the metal, a loud noise reverberating around the room, a gunshot being added to the mix when a bullet slices through your leg, jaw clenching at the pain. You grit your teeth, swinging your other arm to hit the side of the blonde man, a groan escaping him at your strength while he goes to parry your other punch, you injured leg swiping at his knee, knocking him back to the ground.

While the man climbs to his feet, a pair of thighs wrap around your head, trying to force your body to the ground, unable to beat your strength. Wrapping your arms around the back of her body, her elbow being brought down on whatever part of you she could reach, you push her body into the nearest wall, her back painfully banging against it.

The sound of boots approaching quickly causes you to pull away from the wall, slamming the body down against the floor, a small cry escaping her before you lower your body, merely evading the punch from the man and tackling his body to the ground, shield clattering next to him.

Your legs straddle his stomach, grip tight to prevent his movements while your hands goes to his throat, merciless with your grip as his face starts to turn red. Your thumbs dig in harshly against his airways, his hands prying at your own, fingers digging in painfully with the amount of strength he was using making your grip falter, hands reaching to the red and blue metal disk.

Fear glosses over in his eyes as you raise the shield into the air, attempting to bring it down on his throat when his hands clutch at the bottom of it, desperately trying to stop you. Your eyes are dark, no ounce of humanity left in them as you press down harder, the edge of the shield pressing lightly against his throat as he fights for his life,

To catch him off guard, you lift the shield, his fingers slipping off it and enabling you to abruptly bring it back down.

His hands only just block his neck in time, a muffle groan leaving you at the pain radiating throughout your body, electricity coursing through your body from the small device attached onto your neck. The device causes a sense of Deja vu to flicker across your mind, ignoring it as you stagger to your feet, turning to the redhead who raises her gun at you.

Blood oozes out of your leg from where she last shot you, Steve regaining his breath as he slowly pushes his body off the ground, your gaze locked on the woman in front of you, familiarity causing your head to tilt while you stare at her, waiting for her next move.

You can see her hesitation, her finger hovering over the trigger as the barrel is aimed at your face. You take a step forward, daring her to take the shot when she swiftly lowers it, another bullet lodging itself into your body, pain radiating from your side.

You fall to your knees at the pain, her gaze flickering to the man behind you, his hands grabbing the shield once again. You close your eyes, focusing on the sound of his movements to imagine his stance, visualising his body behind you and waiting for the gap to present itself. When he goes to swing the metal at you, you press your hand down into the ground, using it to spring your body off the concrete as you spin around, kicking your leg out to strike into his side.

A loud snap can be heard as the force of your kick splinters his ribs, his body falling to the concrete while he takes in sharp breaths, anguish evident on his face as he holds his side.

You're certain that if he was human the impact would have killed him, instead it merely immobilises him, your attention returning the woman you think you know.

When she keeps her gaze on you, the firearm still aimed at you, you can feel annoyance and anger enter your mind as she hovers her finger over the trigger, not wanting any more bullets to be lodged inside you. Your fingers deftly wrap around the handle of the blade in your pocket, swiftly pulling it and spinning it between your fingers as you wait for her to make the first move.

Confusion sneaks onto your face when she merely smirks at you, her gaze flickering behind you for a brief second. Without even thinking, you turn and launch the knife at the other figure, the metal blade being encased in red tendrils of magic before it clatters to the ground, the brunette's eyes glowing red.

There's a glint of recognition in her eyes when she sees you, her magic abruptly travelling towards you and wrapping around you, the tendrils seeping into the side of your head and into your mind.

You're powerless against her magic, an animalistic noise being torn out of you as more gruesome flashbacks swarm your mind, hands desperately clutching at your head to make it stop.

Natasha watches with a pained look, your cries of anguish stirring something inside her while Wanda lets out a small cry at the things she was seeing in your mind.

You fall to your knees roughly, fingers digging into the side of your head as you try to make it stop, you need to make it stop.

Ending the pain for the both of you, Wanda navigates her way through your fractured mind and eventually manages to get your body to fall unconscious, your body limp of the ground as the witch wipes the tears off of her cheeks, staring at the redhead opposite her who has curiosity written across her face.

"I don't know how long I can hold her," she says to the assassin, her magic still flowing around your head as she tries to keep you still.

"Can you hold her until we get back to the tower?" Natasha asks, making her way over to Steve who is still in agony on the ground. She slowly helps him to his feet, careful not to hurt him anymore while turning her gaze back to the witch.

"I think so," she says a little nervously, focusing on her magic.

"Good, let's get her on the jet, Fury's going to want to know what's happened." Everyone agrees with Natasha's plan, the magic encasing your entire body as you're lifted into the air, the redhead aiding the injured super soldier towards the jet.

What could possibly go wrong?

#natasha fanfic #natasha romanoff fanart #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romonova #hydra #black widow x reader #cw: gore #violence #tw torture #the avengers #super soldier reader

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21consecutivebattles · 11 months ago

Text

With Legends Z-A, I gave him the unavoidable design. I had written so much background and trying to get it on Insta was a hassle, but luckily I’ll be able to fully put it here with no issues,,:

It was hard to steer from the typical older Emmet look but I tried my hardest to make it seem like it would’ve been. I tried looking up France fashion from 1600-1900 but it was either some ridiculous outfits or suits, and since it mentioned the redevelopment of Lumiose City, it was either working up from something like Jubilife village or was upgrading from what it already is. I’ve heard a lot of theories that Legends Z-A will be taking place in the future or bounce back from future to past, but since it’s hard to incorporate futuristic outfits without knowing “how futuristic” it’ll be, I stuck to something from a layer time period in France. I drew him more of a square shape in his eyes instead of triangular, both to signify age and his lost connection with Ingo. Maybe not a permanent design but I think it adds a lot to his demeanor. He kept Basic stuff like he still has his coat, hat, etc. because Ingo got to keep all his old stuff too, but since the trailer looked more modern and Pokémon were with people, I don’t think it would be all destroyed like Ingos just cause it seems like a more civilized nation alongside pokemon and if it really did get destroyed in some way, I have a feeling he would be able to get it repaired without it getting ruined again. Also in terms of the suit I think the darker color is a good parallel to Ingos pearl clan outfits lighter colors. A lot of the design choices were meant to parallel him anyways. Since Ingo had lost his gloves in his Hisui design, giving Emmet new ones felt appropriate for some reason. In terms of the cane I gave him, not only is he an old man, I think it’s kinda needed. Ingo had that little wristband to signify he was a warden, while I think the cane could be useful for a mega stone wink wink nudge nudge. Cute little accessories for them I’m so nice 💀 he could definitely have a slower lifestyle in comparison to Ingo, and I definitely could see him working at Lumiose Station (if it exists in this game) and even though he would most likely have his memory wiped too, Ingo still said the same train themed quotes even with his memory gone, and even then he still had SOME memory, it was just very faint. Emmet definitely could feel some “connection” to the station and say stuff like “Some late nights I think I see a man who looks like me, but upon second glance it’s just my imagination. Even if I can’t seem to shake it from my mind, it seems I still wish to see him again…” anywho for the drawing, I made a few references. The main one just being a reference of design, but the one in the top right corner was a small reference to Alabaster Icelands. I’ve seen a lot of people use the snow to give Ingo flashbacks to Emmet, and while I think my station one is more closely related to Ingos darker color scheme, I think having him in the snow was a good nod to that. The bottom right corner was a reference to a drawing (that probably most people already know what I’m referencing) that had Pokémon that I thought resembled them, and one of the ones I had included for Ingo was Klefki. So just a little salt to the wound (it wasn’t even that bad.) Anywho, I know the design isn’t very refreshing, but I tried to keep it as canonical as possible.

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m4rv3l-girl · 1 month ago

Note

hello! I love your writing!

I have a request, where the reader is recovering from recently being captured/tortured/raped by hydra, after a few months of recovery she asks bucky too make love,

after some persuasion bucky finally agrees and is so gentle he so gentle as if you would shatter at any moment, the morning after y/n realize just how loved and that after months of trauma and being broken y/n finally feel safe and loved more than y/n could have ever imagine.

maybe some flash backs of the after math of rape and torture? maybe the moment y/n realizes that shes been broken?

Broken Together

Warnings: Allusions to past rape (All smut is consensual). Mentions of flashbacks. Smut. Fingering. Unprotected p in v sex.

The world outside the window blurred into a canvas of muted grays and whites, the first snow of the season settling gently on the windowsill of the small Brooklyn apartment. It should have felt serene. Peaceful, even. But for Y/N, sitting curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over her shoulders, peace still felt like a foreign concept.

The apartment was quiet, save for the soft clinking of dishes from the kitchen. Bucky was there, moving with a quiet efficiency that spoke of a man used to silence, used to keeping himself invisible. Y/N glanced at him, the broad lines of his shoulders, the familiar slope of his jaw.

He had taken care of her since the moment she’d been freed from Hydra’s clutches, never once wavering in his devotion.

Her fingers absently traced the edge of the blanket. It was one he’d brought home one evening, insisting it would keep her warm during the brutal New York winter. She had never been good at accepting kindness, but with Bucky, it was different. He gave without expecting anything in return, but she wanted to give back, to show him that she was still whole in ways that mattered.

Her mind, however, betrayed her at every turn. No matter how much distance she tried to put between herself and the horrors Hydra had inflicted, the memories clung like a shadow. Flashes of cold, sterile rooms and the sensation of being utterly powerless would hit her without warning, leaving her gasping for air. She hated that. Hated how it made her feel weak.

The worst part wasn’t even the memories. It was the aftermath—the realization of how deeply Hydra had broken her. They hadn’t just hurt her body. They had tried to break her spirit, and for a long time, she believed they’d succeeded.

But then there was Bucky.

He appeared in the doorway now, a mug of tea in hand, his features soft but tinged with concern. “You okay, doll?” His voice was low, steady, grounding her in the present.

She nodded, even though it wasn’t entirely true. She had gotten good at pretending she was fine, but Bucky saw through it every time. His steel-blue eyes searched her face, and he didn’t press further when she offered him a small, almost apologetic smile.

He set the mug on the coffee table and sat down beside her, his warmth immediately chasing away the chill in the room. His metal hand rested lightly on her knee, the coolness of the vibranium a stark contrast to his flesh-and-blood hand, which gently took hers in his.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

She shook her head. Talking about it always felt like reopening a wound. But tonight, the silence between them felt heavier than usual. Y/N knew it wasn’t fair to keep everything bottled up. Bucky deserved to know what was on her mind.

Taking a deep breath, she whispered, “I don’t want to be broken anymore.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed, and his grip on her hand tightened ever so slightly. “You’re not broken, Y/N,” he said firmly. “Not to me.”

“But I feel like I am,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “Every time I try to move forward, it’s like I hit a wall. I’m scared, Bucky. I hate being scared.”

His hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that slipped down her face. “It’s okay to be scared,” he said softly. “You’ve been through hell, but you’re still here. You’re still fighting. That’s strength, not brokenness.”

Y/N closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. She wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that she wasn’t as shattered as she felt. And maybe, just maybe, she could start to heal. But there was one more thing she wanted. Something that had been on her mind for weeks but felt too big, too raw, to voice.

“Bucky,” she began hesitantly, opening her eyes to meet his. “I want us to… be together.”

“Doll, we are together..?”

“No, no, I-…I mean I want us to…you know. Try again at…yeah.” She mumbled.

He blinked, taken aback by her words. “Y/N, are you sure? Last time it-”

She nodded, even as her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and determination. “I know what happened last time. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I want to take back what they tried to take from me. I want to feel… loved. Wanted.”

His jaw tightened, a storm of emotions flickering across his face. “Doll,” he said quietly, “I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve been through so much. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“You’re not pressuring me,” she insisted, her voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her chest. “I’m asking because I trust you. I feel safe with you.”

He exhaled, his gaze searching hers for any sign of doubt. When he didn’t find any, he nodded, though the hesitation in his expression remained. “Okay,” he said. “But we’ll take it slow. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, you tell me. Promise?”

“I promise.”

The tender brush of Bucky’s lips against hers was like a warm embrace from the winter’s chill outside, sending a shiver of comfort down Y/N’s spine. His hand, the one not made of gleaming metal, cradled the back of her head with a gentle firmness that made her feel cherished. His touch was a promise of protection, a silent vow to never let her go through that hell again.

——-smut——-smut———-smut———-smut———-smut———smut

Their kiss grew deeper, a conversation of shared pain and hope. His thumb traced the line of her jaw, and she could feel the steady beat of his pulse against her palm. His other hand slid down to her waist, the vibranium cool against her skin, serving as a stark reminder of his past, of the battles he’d fought, and the sacrifices he’d made. But here, now, it was a symbol of strength—his and hers.

Bucky pulled back, his eyes searching hers, looking for any sign of fear or doubt. What he found instead was a spark of something fierce, a determination that mirrored his own. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers, and whispered, “I’ve got you, doll.”

They undressed each other slowly, with a reverence that spoke of the sacredness of their bond.

Each item of clothing removed revealed a piece of their shared history, a battle scar or a tender spot that told a story of survival and resilience. He kissed every inch of her skin as if worshipping a living testament to human endurance. His touch was featherlight, a stark contrast to the bruising grip of Hydra’s agents, and she sighed with every tender caress.

Y/N’s trembling subsided as Bucky’s warmth enveloped her. His metal hand paused on her abdomen, tracing the soft curves of her body with a gentle curiosity. He took his time, savoring each moment as if it were their first and last together. And in that moment, as their eyes locked, she realized that she had never felt more alive than she did with him.

With trembling hands, Bucky cupped her breasts, his calloused thumbs brushing lightly over her sensitive nipples. A soft moan escaped her lips as she arched into his touch, her body responding to his care with a fiery hunger that she had long thought lost. He watched her closely, gauging her reaction, making sure she was ready for every step. His touch grew more assured as he felt her body relax, the tension seeping out of her muscles like sand through an hourglass.

Her skin was a palette of soft blush and cream in the dim light, and he painted her with his fingertips, tracing the delicate lines of her collarbone and the gentle swell of her breasts. His palms were rough from years of fighting, but on her, they felt like velvet. His thumbs circled her areola, and she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks as arousal bloomed within her.

He leaned down, his warm breath ghosting across her skin, and took one of her nipples into his mouth. He suckled gently, the soft sound of his mouth on her skin echoing in the quiet apartment. She gasped, her eyes flying open to watch him, his gaze never leaving hers, as he continued to tease and pleasure her with a tenderness that seemed almost sacred. His flesh hand caressed her other breast, his thumb and forefinger playing with the tight peak, eliciting sensations that sent her spiraling into desire.

Bucky’s tongue danced over her skin, tracing patterns that made her squirm and arch into his touch. The feel of his mouth, the roughness of his tongue, was a stark contrast to the cold, clinical abuse she had suffered. But here, it was a balm, a declaration of warmth and affection. He took his time, exploring every inch of her breasts as if he were learning the secrets of her soul. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin, not enough to hurt, but just enough to make her gasp and clutch at his shoulders, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

His mouth moved to her other breast, and he applied the same gentle pressure, the same loving attention. He knew her body was a battlefield of sensations, and he navigated it with the precision of a soldier. The feel of his tongue swirling around her nipple sent shockwaves through her, and she couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her. The metal hand on her waist tightened slightly, a silent reminder that she was safe, that this was real, that she was loved.

Y/N’s breath hitched as Bucky’s mouth grew bolder, his teeth tugging lightly, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core. He knew exactly how to make her feel alive, how to remind her that she was more than a survivor.

But then, without warning, the serene winter scene outside the window shattered like a frozen pane. In its place, the cold steel of a Hydra operating room, the smell of antiseptic burning her nose, the sound of laughter from her tormentors. The panic clawed at her chest, and she gripped his shoulders tighter.

Bucky felt the change in her, his eyes snapping up to meet hers. He knew the signs, had seen the flashes of fear in her eyes before. He paused, waiting for her to either pull away or push him to continue.

“Keep going,” she breathed, her voice strained but determined. “Please, Bucky, don’t stop. I need this. I need you to chase them away.”

He searched her eyes, looking for the truth in her words, and found it.

The fire in her gaze burned away the shadows of doubt. He knew she was strong enough to face the ghosts of her past, and he vowed to be the anchor that kept her tethered to the present.

With a gentle nod, he kissed her again softly, his mouth moving lower and tracing the line of her sternum to her navel. He kissed away the cold sweat that had beaded on her skin, his touch a warm reminder that she wasn’t alone in this.

Her breathing grew uneven, her eyes drifting shut as she focused on the sensations he was giving her, the gentle kisses and nips that were slowly reclaiming her body from the clutches of fear. His hand slid down her thigh, his thumb grazing the soft skin of her inner thigh. He could feel the tremble in her legs, the residual echo of a nightmare that she was fighting to banish.

But as his hand reached the apex of her thighs, she tensed, the flashback threatening to consume her once more. He paused, his hand hovering, waiting for her to confirm if she still wanted this.

Her eyes snapped open, the stark reality of the moment slicing through the fog of her past. With a shaky nod, she whispered, “I’m okay, Bucky. I just want you to make me feel good.”

The gravity of her words settled heavily on his chest, but he understood. He knew that by pushing through this, by claiming her body as her own with his love, she was fighting back against the horrors Hydra had inflicted. He kissed her again, deep and lingering, as if he could somehow transfer his own strength to her through the connection of their lips.

Slowly, so slowly it was almost agonizing, his hand slid between her legs, his fingers finding the soft heat of her folds. Bucky’s touch was gentle but insistent, as if he were coaxing a wild creature from its hiding place. He parted her with the utmost care, exposing the treasure he sought. Y/N’s breath hitched as his thumb found her clit, that sensitive bud that was the very center of her pleasure. It was swollen and responsive to his touch and he took a moment to just look at it, to memorize every detail before he started to stroke it with the pad of his thumb.

The touch was light, almost non-existent at first, just the barest brush that had her arching into his hand. His movements grew firmer, more deliberate, as he found the rhythm that made her breathing stutter and her hips lift off the couch. His strokes grew more insistent, pressing and circling, as he watched her face contort with pleasure. Her eyes fluttered closed, her head tipping back, and her mouth fell open in a silent scream as the sensations grew more intense.

The sound of skin on wet skin filled the room, a sound that had Bucky’s cock straining against his pants. He swallowed hard, focusing on her pleasure, on the way her body was reacting to him. He could feel the tremble in her thighs, the way her muscles tensed around his hand. He knew he had to be careful, that she was still so fragile, but the desire in her eyes spurred him on. He applied more pressure, his thumb moving faster, and she began to pant, her back bowing off the couch.

The sight of her was almost too much for him. He wanted to bury himself inside her, to claim her in every way possible, but he knew that wasn’t what she needed right now.

Bucky slid one of his fingers into her warmth, moving with the same meticulous care he’d shown her entire body. He watched her face for any sign of pain, of discomfort, but all he saw was a deepening of the blush on her cheeks and the soft parting of her lips. He pushed in deeper, feeling the tightness of her clench around his digit.

“All good, Doll?” He checked.

She nodded quickly.

He waited, giving her a moment to adjust to the sensation, before he began to move. His fingers curled and stroked, searching for the spot inside her that would make her forget everything but the here and now. When he found it, her hips bucked, and a whimpering sound escaped her throat.

“That’s it, doll,” he murmured sweetly, his voice a gentle caress in the quiet room. “You’re so brave, letting me in like this.” His praise was a gentle balm, soothing the jagged edges of her fear. His words were whispers of love, reminding her that she was more than just a product of her experiences - she was a woman, reclaiming her own body.

Her breathing grew ragged as he worked his magic, the strokes of his thumb and the thrust of his fingers an unspoken language of adoration. She was wet, so wet, and the sound of his fingers moving in and out of her filled the air, a testament to the desire he had stirred within her. She could feel the heat building, a pressure that grew more insistent with each pass over her clit.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” he said, his voice a low rumble that resonated in her core. “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?” His words were a challenge, a sweet, loving challenge that she wanted to conquer.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, and she met his gaze with a fierce determination. “Yes,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire.

Bucky’s eyes darkened at her response, and he added a second finger, stretching her gently, filling her more completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the feeling of being so full of him, so surrounded by his love and care, it brought tears to her eyes. He watched her closely, his eyes never leaving hers as he worked his hand in a slow, steady rhythm that had her writhing beneath him.

Her hips began to move with his hand, a silent plea for more, for everything he had to give. He complied, his thumb increasing its pace, the pressure just shy of pain, but oh so close to bliss. His fingers curled inside her, hitting that spot that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through her body.

The world outside the window disappeared, the cold and the snow forgotten. There was only Bucky, his hand on her, his eyes holding hers. And in that moment, she knew she could conquer anything.

Her orgasm built, a crescendo of sensation that grew and grew until it was all she could think about. She was vaguely aware of Bucky’s hand leaving her breast, of his other hand reaching for her, but it was the feel of his mouth on her clit that sent her over the edge. The shock of the cool metal against her overheated flesh was the final note in a symphony that shattered her into a million pieces.

Her body convulsed as she came, her cries echoing in the quiet apartment. Bucky held her through it all, his mouth never leaving her, his fingers never still. He was her anchor in the storm, the one constant in a world that had been ripped apart.

As the aftershocks of her climax began to subside, he kissed his way up her body, his tongue tasting her sweetness, his teeth grazing her skin in a gentle bite that made her shiver.

Y/N’s eyes searched Bucky’s, looking for reassurance. He kissed her softly, his breath warm and steady against her mouth. “I’m here, doll. We’re doing this together.”

With a nod, she reached down to undo his belt, her trembling fingers fumbling with the buckle. He took over, his movements slow and deliberate. He knew she was watching him, could feel her eyes on him as he revealed his own vulnerability, his own scars from the battles he’d fought. His cock sprang free, hard and eager, and she took it in her hand, feeling the pulse of his need.

Bucky’s eyes closed briefly as she stroked him, the sensation sending waves of heat through him. He groaned, his head falling back, and for a moment, she felt powerful - like she could take on the world.

Guiding him to her, she whispered, “Inside me, Bucky…?”

He positioned himself at her entrance, the tip of his cock nudging against her slick folds. He paused, his eyes searching hers for any hint of hesitation. Finding none, he pushed in slowly, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt.

The feeling was indescribable - both a homecoming and a new beginning. He filled her in a way that was both familiar and terrifying, a stark reminder of the power he held, and yet she felt more in control than she ever had before.

They moved together and their rhythm was slow and tender, a dance of healing and love. The room was silent except for the sound of their breaths mingling, the occasional soft moan or whispered word of encouragement.

His calloused hands, battle torn, trembled slightly as he cupped her face. The pad of his thumbs tenderly brushing against her cheeks. "You set the pace, doll," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble of reassurance. "Whatever you're comfortable with."

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him closer, feeling the warmth of his skin against hers. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on the sensation of him inside her, filling her completely. It was more than just physical; it was a connection, a bond that transcended any doubt.

With renewed confidence, she began to move, her hips rising to meet his. Each movement sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and she gasped as he hit just the right spot. His eyes never left hers, watching her intently as she grew more comfortable with the rhythm they’d found. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, words of love and admiration that sent shivers down her spine.

Her hands roamed over his broad shoulders and chest, tracing the lines of his muscles and the scars that mapped his history. She felt him tense and quiver beneath her touch, his breath hitching as she explored. She whispered back to him, her voice a soft purr of satisfaction. "It's okay, Bucky. I want to feel you."

He thrusted his hips down into hers with passion, but still gently enough that it radiated love and care. The bed creaked beneath them, a gentle background to their grunts and gasps.

Y/N felt the heat building within her, a warm crescendo that started in her core and spread throughout her body. She tightened her grip around him, her nails digging into his flesh as she fought to hold back the moan that was bubbling up from within. Bucky's eyes narrowed, his own desire growing with every passing second. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a fiery kiss that left them both panting.

Their tongues slid over one another gently, a non-verbal conversation of passion and need. His hand moved from her hip to her breast, cupping it within his large hand and simply holding it there like a reassurance.

With every few moments, Bucky checked in with her, his eyes searching hers for any signs of distress. "That feel okay, doll?" he'd murmur, the words barely audible above their heavy breathing.

She'd nod, a soft smile playing on her lips, and he'd reward her with a deeper, more deliberate thrust, making her moan with pleasure.

Their bodies melded together, filling the room with skin-on-skin whispers. He never missed a beat, his eyes never leaving hers as he read her body like a map, charting her every response, every shiver of pleasure. He knew exactly when to slow down, to kiss her neck and let his teeth graze the soft skin just beneath her ear, to whisper something dirty that made her toes curl.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his voice a rough caress that sent a thrill through her. "You're so perfect, dripping for me."

Her cheeks flushed at his words, but instead of feeling embarrassed, she felt a surge of excitement. He was speaking the language of raw, unbridled desire.

Their movements grew more urgent, their bodies speaking a silent but powerful language of need. The friction between them built, setting her nerves on fire, and she could feel her orgasm approaching like a freight car.

With a gasp she arched her back, her breasts pressing against his chest, her hands digging into the sheets. "Bucky," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm… I…"

He nodded, understanding the unspoken words, and kept his pace consistent. His strokes dragged against her every time and didn’t move an inch from her sweet spot, each one pushing her closer to the edge she was teetering on. "That's it, doll," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "You can come whenever you want, Baby."

And she did.

With a cry that was part pleasure and part relief, she shattered, her body convulsing around him as waves of euphoria crashed over her. Bucky’s arms tightened around her, his hips stuttering as he felt her clench around him. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot and ragged against her skin as he fought his own release.

The tremors of her climax subsided, leaving her panting and limp in his arms. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, her sternum, tasting the sweat on her skin, feeling the thunder of her heartbeat beneath his lips.

"You're so beautiful, Y/N," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "So beautiful and so strong."

Her eyes fluttered open, her gaze soft and adoring. She felt a gentle tug at her chest, a feeling she hadn’t felt in a long time, as if her soul was reaching out to entwine with his. "Thank you, Bucky. I really enjoyed that." she murmured.

“I’m so glad, Doll.” He took her hand and placed it on his chest, right over his heart. "Feel that?" he asked, his voice gruff. "It's yours. It's been yours since the day I met you."

Her smile grew, and she squeezed his hand in response, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath her palm. They lay there, still connected, their bodies slowly calming from the storm of passion.

Bucky pulled out of her with a soft groan, rolling to his side to lay beside her. He brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks. "You okay?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for any lingering doubt.

She nodded, feeling a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the afterglow of their lovemaking. "I'm more than okay," she said, her voice a quiet promise.

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her, and she nestled into his embrace, feeling safe and loved.

For a few moments, they lay there, their breathing syncing up as they both tried to come down from the high of their shared release.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

The next morning, the light streamed through the curtains. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N woke up peacefully. Seeing that Bucky was already awake staring at her adoringly, she gave a gentle smile.

Leaning up and kissing him softly - "I love you," she whispered against his lips.

Bucky’s eyes searched hers, filled with a fierce tenderness that made her heart ache in the best way. "I love you too.”

——————————————————————————————————

I really hope you liked this, I tried my best to capture what you asked for. Let me know if you can! Thanks for leaving a request. 🫶

Requests Open!

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky fluff #bucky smut #bucky angst #Bucky is a consent king

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trblsvt · 2 years ago

Text

in this life | choi seungcheol

summary | honestly, you didn’t really care what choi seungcheol did anymore. but, when his mom called you saying there was an accident, you found yourself at the foot of his bed. genre | fluff, angst, hurt/comfort; exes!au warnings | swearing, mentions of hospitals, injuries from an accident (not life threatening), mentions of drinking, suggestive… for like a flashback, nudity (non-sexual and not descriptive), miscommunication possibly…, jealousy…, insecurities/self-doubt word count | 13.47k words pairing | choi seungcheol x fem!reader minli | lowercase intended i literally have nothing to say about this. sort of a monster to write. i had so many ideas for this, yet little brainpower to execute! it was a fun concept and the longest fic i’ve written for this blog… italics mean flashback or past event… update | i forgot a few things to tag under warnings, sorry :( they have been added

you were doing great, just great. it started raining when you left your umbrella back at your apartment. you were late to work, and you spilled your coffee on the way out of the door. things were great, and it had been seven months since you and your boyfriend called it quits.

you’d like to say it ended in a big blaze of glory, something movie-like, but it was just the opposite. you had sat down with seungcheol and told him that you were unhappy. he was always too busy and refused to make time for anything other than his work. as for you, well you were tired. when you told him, he sort of just looked at you blankly and just shrugged.

he fucking shrugged. great. so that was it. you just stared at him blankly. he wasn’t even going to put up a fight. two years down the drain.

“so that’s it?” you had asked before you left.

“yeah, i guess so,” he had replied.

and that’s how it ended, you packed up your stuff and went back to your apartment. you technically weren’t living with seungcheol, you still had your lease and whatever, but you spent a lot of time at seungcheol’s.

you finally made it to the office and clocked in. nothing important was going on today which was nice, but also this meant your day was going to be endlessly boring. at least it was friday.

you sat down and logged into your computer. “shouldn’t you change your home screen?” a voice startled you out of your thoughts of the hours to come. you spun around in your chair and stared at your friend minjeong. you looked between her and your computer screen. you knew what she was talking about, but you decided to play dumb. “what are you talking about?” you asked. minjeong sort of glared at you.

“that’s from your vacation to jeju,” she frowned.

the same vacation seungcheol took you on.

“yeah, it’s a sunset for jeju. what about it?” you huffed. she didn’t respond, just gave you a look. you knew that look. it was the “i know better than you, why aren’t you listening to me?” look. “seungcheol isn’t even in this picture,” you defended your screensaver.

“but seungcheol was there. that’s a memory with seungcheol,” she countered. she was right. you probably should’ve changed it, but whether it was with seungcheol or not, it was a nice picture. “yeah, it is, but we’re on good terms so what’s the big deal?” you blurted out.

there was the “you’re such a liar” look. “really? when’s the last time you talked to seungcheol since you broke up?” she entertained you even though you both knew you hadn’t contacted seungcheol once since you broke up. “well, it’s not like i keep track or anything, that would be weird,” you brushed her off. you could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “seriously, ___, i don’t think this is healthy for you to still keep remnants of your relationship with him around. it’s going to prevent you from moving on,” she explained.

“i know, just- just give me a little time,” you sighed.

“time? it’s been seven months! how about we go out tonight? you can get your sights on some new man. i think i overheard that changkyun is going out tonight at that new bar.”

“now why would i be interested in where changkyun is going tonight?” you scoffed. minjeong had a theory that changkyun had been crushing on you since he first joined the company, but you were too “lovesick” with seungcheol to see. “he’s so into you! i’m not saying to marry the guy, just take your mind off seungcheol. it’s his loss anyway,” minjeong laughed.

you wanted to believe that, you really did.

you had every intention of going out with minjeong, but the day was going on so momentously, you weren’t sure if you could stand up straight for another second. you both had to unexpectedly stay longer and work overtime, and it might have been the death of you. you heard minjeong’s cheery humming coming around the corner. “are you ready to get absolutely wasted?” she smiled.

“i was going for more of a buzzed thing,” you yawned.

“oh no, don’t do that. you get so quiet when you’re tired before you drink,” she whined. you looked at her, but she was right. you had about three different moods when you were drunk. one, loud. two, quiet. three, insane. and most of the time, the way you ended up correlated to how you were feeling before you drank. you couldn’t explain it, but it just happened.

you were about to offer a clever rebuttal when your phone started ringing. “one second,” you didn’t even bother to check the caller id. “hello?” you replied.

“ah, ___ thank you for answering,” a familiar voice floated through the phone. you paused. you pulled your phone away from your ear and looked at the name on the call.

mrs. choi.

“mrs. choi, hello, i wasn’t expecting you to call me,” you said almost breathlessly. you glanced over at minjeong and she stared at you, wide-eyed. “___, dear. i’m so glad you picked up. i need you to come over,” she sighed. she sounded tired like she had been crying. wait. she wanted you to come over? for what? “come over? what’s going on? is everyone okay?” you asked, logging off your computer and placing the few things you took out of your bag, back into the bag.

“i have hope that it will be. seungcheol was in a car accident.”

you apologized profusely to minjeong and left the office rushing to the seungcheol’s apartment. you knew the way to his apartment, to him, like the back of your hand. you punched the code in that bypassed the need to be buzzed in, and made your way to the elevator.

after you pressed the button to the fifth floor of the complex you felt your hands become inexplicably sweaty. why did you rush over here like a lovesick fool? you weren’t even dating him anymore. why did his mom call you? what was going on? the elevator dinged, alerting you that it was time to get out.

you made your way down to his apartment. 5-12. it looked the same since the last time you were there. you stared at the door. it had been so long since you had been there. your heart was beating so fast, you didn’t know what to do. so, you just knocked.

the door flew open almost instantly. “___, my dear, come in,” mrs. choi welcomed you warmly. you smiled and bowed slightly. when you stepped through the doorway your first instinct was to run away, but you couldn’t. you kicked your shoes off and followed mrs. choi in the direction of seungcheol’s bedroom.

she lightly grasped at your arm. “the car crash happened a couple days ago. we just got out of the hospital. he broke his right leg. it was jammed against the dash and steering wheel. he also has a bruised lung from the airbag, and a mild concussion from the collision,” she explained. you nodded. that sounded awful. where did he crash? did someone crash into him, or did he crash into someone else?

almost reading your mind, she added, “he didn’t hurt anyone else. it was raining the other day. it was dark and his car hydroplaned into a barrier. the cops thought it might’ve been a drunk driving incident since they found newly bought alcohol in the back of his car, but there wasn’t any in his system.”

you were still rendered speechless. seungcheol was the safest driver you knew. he always warned you about hydroplaning and what to do if it happened. why didn’t he do what he always told you?

you realized you were spaced out when mrs. choi rested a hand on your shoulder. “i was surprised that you didn’t come the other day, but seungcheol insisted that you were away on a trip of some sort. he didn’t want me to call you, but you’re his girlfriend! i had to tell you at some point, and you’re obviously back in town,” she exclaimed. “thank you so much for coming, ___. i don’t know where seungcheol would be without you.”

you’re his girlfriend.

what the fuck?

you certainly were not his girlfriend anymore. why did she think you were together? it had been seven months. mrs. choi was sharp, she wouldn’t accidentally slip and say you were his girlfriend unless that is if…

then it dawned on you.

for whatever reason, seungcheol never told his mom the two of you broke up.

fuck.

seungcheol was sick. he was more than sick. he was hurt, physically. and his mom only wanted what was best for her son. she brought you here for something. you weren’t about to make this poor woman’s day worse by telling her you weren’t dating seungcheol anymore, so you played along. “yes, i just got back from a business trip. i always tell seungcheol to call me if something’s the matter. i’m so glad you called me, i wasn’t going to come over for another day or two because of his work schedule,” you pretended. she looked at you fondly. “i always knew you were a good one, ___,” she smiled. it pained you to lie to her, but it seemed like the best option for now.

“we just got back from the hospital a few hours ago. he’s all set up in there. i’m not sure if he’s awake now, but do you want to see him?” she asked. you nodded quietly. you didn’t know what you were going to do in front of seungcheol. you preferred not to think about it.

“before you go in, i have a large favor to ask you. i understand you’re a busy person, but if you could, oh my i feel so embarrassed to ask this. if you could stay with him for a while. take some time off and take care of him because i really cannot stay. my father is ill and i must return home to care for him,” she laughed bitterly. “i would stay, and i would never dream of dumping this sort of responsibility on just anyone, but you’re his girlfriend. not saying girlfriends and wives are only meant for taking care of husbands and boyfriends, but i know you care about seungcheol. i just thought it-”

“yes, i can do that,” you cut her off. why did you say that? “i can contact my manager and work remotely.” why do you keep saying things like this? suddenly mrs. choi’s arms were around you. “thank you, thank you, thank you, dear. i am so grateful for you, and i know my son is too. thank you! i must get going, but i already stocked the fridge. you can go in. once again, thank you so much. our family owes you so much,” she cried. you rubbed her back. “oh, don’t say that. you don’t owe me anything. i’m just happy he’s alright,” you whispered.

that was the first truthful thing you said in that entire interaction.

when you entered the room, mrs. choi accompanied you. seungcheol was awake. he stared longingly out the window on the opposite side of the room away from the door. “honey, there’s someone here to see you,” mrs. choi called gently. you wanted to hide, so you tried to. partially behind her and you looked over her shoulder. seungcheol tried to adjust himself and he slowly turned over to look at his mother. “mom, i really didn’t want to see anyone-” he began, but his eyes met yours and he froze.

“oh come on, darling, it’s ___. she’s agreed to help out some. she cares about you,” she cooed. seungcheol looked like a child who got caught going through the cookie jar.

due to the dim light, you couldn’t really see that well, but you noticed the large soft cast that he had on his right leg. it looked like he was having a hard time breathing, that was the bruised lung. he had some cuts on his face that had already scabbed over, but you noticed some dark spots on his pillow, maybe he had been picking at them. he had a habit of picking at his scabs.

but the most striking thing to you was how pale he was. he looked like a ghost, which was strange since seungcheol loved to go outside to read or watch people. what had changed since you left? you noticed a wheelchair and a pair of crutches.

“mom, i- why did you call, ___? i told you she was busy,” seungcheol asked weakly. before his mom could nag him, you decided that you could save this entire situation from becoming more awkward than it needed to be. “cheol, don’t you remember? i came back yesterday, but i knew you were going to be busy with work,” you forced a smile. you thought you were going to throw up his mother grinned and squeezed your hand. she made her way over to seungcheol’s closet and started rummaging through it looking for something.

you looked back at seungcheol and it looked like he might cry. his eyes yelled at you, what are you doing here?

if you were honest you weren’t sure.

you saw mrs. choi out while she continued to thank you profusely for looking about for seungcheol. “of course, no need to worry. seungcheol is safe with me,” you assured.

“what would i do without you, ___? i hope someday you can join the family officially. i mean you’ve been dating seungcheol for over two years now,” she grinned hugging you.

yeah, i did too, you thought.

she left and instructed you to just heat something up that she left in the fridge. you locked the door behind you and made your way into the kitchen. you pulled out a tray of noodles and plated them. she left you a few tips about seungcheol so you decided to look at it.

he has work off, so no need to worry about driving him to work. once he is better and the doctors clear his concussion can start working from home.

please make sure he is eating three meals a day. he’s been acting differently and hasn’t been eating as much.

for showers, there’s a cover for the cast because he can’t get it wet. i set up a chair in his shower, so he should need minimal help in that area. maybe just changing.

pain medications are in the cabinet next to the fridge. dosage is two tablets every six hours. but, if he isn’t hurting that much give him one, or if he isn’t in any pain don’t worry about it.

he has a doctor’s appointment in a couple of weeks to see how his leg is healing is progressing.

thank you so much <3 call me if you need anything

you frowned at the second one. not eating well? seungcheol always ate well. this seemed pretty manageable. you had already called your supervisor, who approved your request to work remotely. you did have to lie and say you were taking care of a family member, but otherwise, it was a mostly truthful story.

when you put the sheet down, the microwave had finished and you brought the plate into seungcheol’s room. he wasn’t looking in your direction, instead, he was looking out the window. “seungcheol, i brought you dinner. your mom made it,” you announced. no response. you huffed and looked around the room. you didn’t want to push him, but you needed him to eat. “i know you’re not sleeping. you’ll heal faster if you eat. your mom needs you to eat,” you continued. yet, to no avail, he still stared out the window, body closed off to you. you sighed, you wished it didn’t have to come to this. “seungcheol, i need you to eat. please, for me,” you pleaded. there was a slight shift, but still no response. “well, i’ll just leave it here, but eat it soon. it’ll get cold,” you sighed, placing the plate on the nightstand where he could reach it.

why did you sign up for this? it wasn’t like you owed him anything. why didn’t you just tell his mom you were broken up? so many questions were flooding your mind, so you almost missed his whispered question. “what, did you say? i’m sorry, i missed it,” you asked, turning around from the door.

“do you- do you have something to eat?” he asked, breath labored.

something in your heart stuttered.

you silently nodded.

“that’s good,” was all he said.

it was almost 9:00 pm. you had your plate of food, and you thought it would be best to run over to your apartment to pick up some clothes and belongings, especially since you were supposed to live here for a while. you would run in and check with seungcheol and let him know you were leaving and then you’d be back in thirty minutes.

you knocked on the door, but no response. you hoped that it wasn’t going to be like this for the rest of his recovery. “i’m coming in, seungcheol,” you called opening the door.

but when you entered you were met with an empty bed. your eyebrows furrowed. you noticed the empty plate of his dinner. then you noticed his wheelchair was gone, and the faint glow of light from under the bathroom door.

you didn’t hear the shower running, so maybe he was just using the bathroom. yet, something in your gut told you otherwise. you made your way over to the bathroom door and pressed your ear against it. you heard quiet sniffling.

oh.

“seungcheol? are you in there?” you asked. dumb question, but you didn’t know what else to lead with. no response. “seungcheol, are you okay?” obviously not. “seungcheol, if you don’t answer me, i’m coming in.”

“no, please. please don’t come in,” he responded finally. “i’m fine.”

“no you’re not. i can help, seungcheol. let me help. what’s going on?” you called. there was a hesitation before he spoke, “i- i don’t know how to do this.”

“what is this?” you asked again for clarification.

“cleaning. i don’t know to do it with this thing on my leg.” that made sense. you already knew he was going to need help with that. you just wished he would’ve come to you first. “can i come in?” you hoped he would say yes.

“no,” he said.

“why not?”

“i don’t want you to see me like this.”

“this isn’t the time to act modest. i’m here to help.” there was a deep sigh on the other side of the door. finally, you heard some shuffling and the door was open. you walked in and took in your surroundings. seungcheol was without a shirt and pants. he sat slumped in his wheelchair as he quickly tried to wipe his tears. you saw some bruises that covered his abdomen. you also noticed how he looked skinnier. that must be why his mom wanted to make sure he was eating. the cover for his cast was sitting on the counter, so you grabbed it.

you knelt down next to him, he wasn’t looking at you. you looked into the shower and noticed the shower chair. “seungcheol, i’m gonna put a towel under you right now, so can you lift yourself up a little?” you said grabbing a towel to put onto the seat of the wheelchair. he did, and you tried your best to arrange it. “can you stand at all?” you asked. he huffed and pushed himself up, and used you as a brace.

you guided him into his walk-in shower and helped him sit down. you paused and looked at him closely. he looked so tired, which was expected, but there was something else there. you just couldn’t put your finger on it. “i need you to take off your underwear, unless you want to shower in them,” you directed. he glared at you and mumbled something. “what was that?” you asked.

“i don’t-” he began.

“now is not the time to be modest,” you chided.

“no! i don’t want you to see me like this! i don’t want you to see me all broken and bruised! it’s not right that my mother asked you to do this! just leave! i know you don’t want to be here, so just go. it’s already humiliating enough,” he heaved. you felt your jaw tighten and your fingers clawed at your sides. you didn’t want to respond to that, at least not at that moment. “take off your underwear, seungcheol,” you ordered, crossing your arms. he finally looked at you in your eyes, and he pushed his underwear off. you had to help him get it over his cast, but otherwise, it was seamless. next, you grabbed the cast cover which was essentially a glorified plastic bag, and slid it over his bandaged leg.

seungcheol’s eyes were downcast again, and he refused to acknowledge you. his shower head was detachable and handheld, so you took it down and placed it closer to him. he still wasn’t looking at you. although you really needed to get some stuff from your apartment, you could stay. when you started rolling up your sleeves on your work blouse and slipping out of your house slippers, seungcheol stared at you incredulously. you stepped into the shower and turned on the water. you made sure the head was facing the ground as you waited for it to warm up. “what are you doing?” he asked. he almost sounded angry, but that could be addressed later. you snatched the washcloth that was hanging on a hook inside the shower and found his shampoo and conditioner. he leaned over and grabbed your wrist, it wasn’t harsh or forceful, just him. “what are you doing?” he repeated.

“taking care of you,” you said shortly. “now close your eyes. tell me if it’s too hot.” he released your wrist and there was that look again. you had to figure out what that was about. you raised the shower head and soaked his hair, and promptly began to lather his shampoo into his hair. he seemed to relax at that. you ran your hands through his hair like you used to. he liked it when you tugged at his strands. it brought him a comfort he couldn’t describe. yet, his hair was shorter now, not the longer strands that you were used to. you wondered what made him cut it, but you knew now wasn’t the time to ask about it.

the rest of the shower went without any hitch. your hands running over the broad expanse of his back. something about that moment was so domestic, intimate, yet you knew you couldn’t have it the way you wanted it. the way you wanted him. so, you pushed it down, just like the way you did when you noticed him distancing himself from you and drowning himself in his work.

you helped him get into some clean clothes and bed after he brushed his teeth and dried his body. after you brought him his pain medication with a glass of water to stick next to his bed, you were about to go out and run to your apartment. he saw you rustling around in your bag that you left in his room. “what are you doing?” he asked.

“looking for my keys,” you replied.

“why?”

“so i can go home and grab some things. i’ll be working from home, i mean, i’ll be working here while i help you.” god, why did you call his apartment home? it hadn’t been your home for so long. “i’ll be back soon. i’ll be quiet when i come back so just sleep.”

“no, don’t go.”

“pardon?”

“don’t go.” he stared at you like a petulant child. was this a symptom of a concussion? “seungcheol, i have to go get some of my things. i don’t really want to sleep in my work clothes,” you tried to reason with the pouting man.

“you left some of your clothes. t-shirts and stuff. sweatpants. just wear that. it’s too late for you to leave now. it wouldn’t be safe,” he shrugged but winced. that was the bruised lung. you didn’t know you left your things over, if you did you would’ve made one more trip to pick them up.

but…

seungcheol didn’t throw out the clothes you left behind. was he stashing them in case he had another girl come over that needed to borrow clothes? was he saving them for a special time to burn them? why did he keep your clothes?

no matter, it was no use arguing with seungcheol, and you were tired. you hadn’t even had time to process the fact he had been in an accident, to begin with. “where?” you asked turning back around.

“in my closet, where your clothes usually are.” he looked at you like it was obvious. why would it be obvious? you wanted to scream. a normal person after a breakup usually burns the things their ex left behind, or they maybe just throw them out on the street. they don’t keep it in the same place in the closet. you breathed deeply to calm your mind. now was not the time to address the elephant in the room. “i’ll be getting a shower then,” you said, eyeing him suspiciously. he just nodded and turned to face the window.

the shower was uneventful other than the thousands of thoughts flowing through your mind. you hoped that they would leave you and flow down the drain. when you finally got out of the shower, you realized you would have to walk through seungcheol’s bedroom to get to the couch. hopefully, he was knocked out. you slid on the clothes that you had left there. it was an old sweatshirt and pajama bottoms, but it would get the job done for the night. the smelled like they were cleaned with his detergent, and you weren’t sure if you loved it or if you wanted it off of your body forever. you tried the best you could to open the door as quietly as possible, and it seemed to work. you were basically out the door without seungcheol waking up or noticing you. that is until he did. “where are you going?” he asked. you hung your head, your hand leaving the doorknob. “to the couch,” you replied.

“why?”

now, there was something seriously wrong with him. you glanced around the room, searching for an answer. “because i’m going to sleep on the couch,” you scrutinized him a bit further. he stared at you with the same confusion. he seemingly picked up on the mutual tension and confusion in the air, “i’ll sleep on the couch, you sleep here,” he clarified. you choked on air. he must have more than a concussion, he had amnesia of some sort because you don’t just let your ex sleep in your bed, especially after you had been in a serious accident.

you had to snap yourself out of the trance you were in before seungcheol could even attempt to get out of bed, which he was already in the process of trying. rushing over to him and pushing him back under the covers was more of a feat than you thought it was going to be. he seemed adamant about having you stay in his bed while he went to the couch. you were getting deja vu or something to the fights leading up to the end of your relationship.

“no, i’ll take the couch,” he had insisted.

“no, this is your home and your bed. i’ll just stay on the couch since you don’t want me to go to my apartment,” you had refused. “talk in the morning?”

“yeah sure.”

“no, you’re the guest here, i’ll take the couch,” he shrugged, once again trying to push himself up. you placed a hand on his shoulder. “seungcheol, i wasn’t the one in a car accident,” you reasoned. “you won’t be comfortable on the couch.”

“just- just let me do something for you,” he muttered under his breath. you don’t think you were supposed to hear it, but you did.

“the best thing you can do for me is to sleep in your own bed and heal.” his gaze lifted and looked at yours. he looked utterly exhausted, and to be honest, you probably looked the same. he inhaled deeply and sat back against his headrest in concession. you smiled at him and before you could stop yourself, you ran your hand through his hair which he happily accepted. “good night, seungcheol,” you said.

“good night,” he replied sounding more at ease. in another lifetime, there would be more to this than a simple good night, but in this lifetime it was different. so much different than you ever hoped for.

“i love you, cheol.”

“i love you too, ___.”

the crick in your back was going to be the death of you, but oh well, you already called into work and took the next week off before you started working remotely. minjeong was surprised that you even agreed to this in the first place. “___, he was an asshole to you,” she pointed out over the phone. you were currently lugging your stuff down the hall to seungcheol’s apartment, phone dangerously stuck between your shoulder and cheek. “he wasn’t an asshole,” you argued. for some reason, the need to defend seungcheol still ran through your veins.

“he was, ___. he was,” minjeong sighed. you knew that she was right, but you needed to believe that the breakup was caused all just a big misunderstanding and move on. “i’ve got to go, minnie,” you sighed reaching seungcheol’s doorway.

“___, don’t- ugh, don’t do anything you’ll regret. he didn’t treat you right. he wasn’t toxic, but he was definitely neglectful to you,” she groaned.

“it’s not like i’m going to crawl back to him. i’m just helping him.”

“but why should you?”

seungcheol had some bad habits, and it didn’t always end up well for you.

“cheol, what are you-” you were promptly cut off when seungcheol pressed his lips against yours with an energy that felt unfamiliar. it was just the average evening, so you didn’t understand why he was kissing you like that. not that he had to have a reason to kiss you, it’s just that it hadn’t happened in so long. you had been with him long enough to know how passionate he was about, well, everything. but, this felt different. not saying it was bad. you craved him being this close for weeks, and he was finally in your grasp. his hands were planted firmly on your waist and he moved you to where he pleased. “come on, baby, just let me feel you,” he smiled against your lips.

call you touch-starved (which you were), but you couldn’t help melting into him. this was the most attention you had felt from him in so long. “cheol, please,” you gasped as his lips traveled down your neck. he pulled you infinitely closer and you let him. yet, something was nagging at you. your stomach began to drop as his hands began to slide under your shirt. sinking suspicions started to bubble up through your heart. “cheol, kiss me,” you begged, not wanting your thoughts to be true. he hummed and obliged. he pressed his lips against yours in this new fervor. the heat between you was becoming unbearable as your suspicion was correct.

beer.

the faint taste of it lingered on his tongue, and it made you want to throw up. for the first time in who knows how long, he touches you like he’s never done before but only because he’s intoxicated. great. you pushed him away. “did you drive home by yourself?” you asked gazing into his tired eyes.

“no, i had joshua drop me off,” he murmured, hands still not leaving your skin, but that’s all you wanted him to do. just get off of me, is what you wanted to yell. how dare you come here drunk and treat me better than you ever have sober for the past months, is what you wanted to scream. “i think it’s time for you to go to bed, cheol,” you opted for instead. he shook his head still grasping at you. “don’t touch me anymore, seungcheol,” you hissed, swatting his hand away and pulling him to his bathroom.

she didn’t sound angry, just exasperated. she had a point. there was no reason why you should offer your help to him. seungcheol never made time for you when you were together, why were you making time for him yet again? it was major deja vu. “look, he wasn’t nice to me, yes. i hated him for a long time, maybe i still do. but, his mom called me, so i feel like i’m doing it for her. not for him,” you attempted to justify. minjeong scoffed. it was a deserved scoff, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. minjeong was there when things ended with seungcheol, so she would know the entire situation from the most unbiased, well sort of unbiased, outside position. she was your friend, and it was only natural for her to want to protect you. you couldn’t fault her for that. “i just want what’s best for you, and i’m not convinced helping him through recovery is the best plan,” she sighed.

“i know. you know he hurt me, i won’t let it happen again. i have no intention of getting back with him. you’re right. he was an asshole. i’ve got to go. talk later?” you asked carefully reaching for the spare set of keys his mom gave you.

“let me kick his ass if he hurts you again.”

“i will.”

“talk later! i’m going to miss you at work. love you!”

“love you too.”

after you successfully hung up without dropping your bags, phone, or keys, you opened the door to the kitchen light on. that’s weird. you were pretty sure you left it off when you went to get your stuff. you kicked off your shoes and made your way into to kitchen, your luggage bag dragging behind you.

you were greeted by seungcheol attempting to push himself up from his wheelchair to wash some fruit in the sink. “seungcheol! what are you doing?” you rushed to his side. he glanced over his shoulder at you. he sort of gave you some dumb look like he didn’t know what was wrong. “you shouldn’t be pushing yourself like this,” you chided. “i can wash these. you need to go back to bed. you should rest.”

“i think i can handle washing some fruit,” he scoffed slumping down in a chair. you rolled your eyes. “it’s not about washing fruit, i know you’re perfectly capable of washing fruit. you were in a car accident a few days ago. you shouldn’t be pushing yourself to get up,” you explained. he just mumbled something under his breath and tried to maneuver his way out of the kitchen. you watched him carefully as he made his way back into his room, and you heard him sigh when he shut the door behind him.

you had a sinking feeling that this was going to be a long recovery process, for the both of you.

it once again time for seungcheol to go to the doctor. the past few weeks had been back and forth to doctor’s appointments. his concussion was going down. to say things were going well would be a stretch. seungcheol barely spoke to you. you didn’t necessarily expect him to be buddy-buddy with you, but it was strange. he always tried to avoid looking at you. you weren’t sure what you did to deserve this treatment, after all, he was the one who broke up with you.

sleeping on the couch for the past weeks was not ideal. working from seungcheol’s home office was not ideal either. it was weird getting on video calls when you were so used to walking to meetings with minjeong. seungcheol tried his best to not disturb you, but sometimes he would knock on the door and sheepishly ask you for help with something.

the drive to the doctor’s and the check-up itself were uneventful. his leg was healing nicely, and they even decided it was time for a boot, which was great because you could tell he was getting sick of sitting down all the time. “well, mr. choi, it looks like your lung is looking a lot better based off of the scans, and according to your…” dr. hwang paused looking in your direction. seungcheol looked at you briefly like was afraid of what you were going to say.

you weren’t necessarily worried about getting kicked out because you weren’t immediate family, but for some reason, you chose against saying you were his friend. “i’m his girlfriend,” you bit the bullet. you hoped it didn’t seem too unnatural when you said it. you saw seungcheol’s ears perk up, but he still didn’t address you.

dr. hwang looked between the two of you seemingly wanting to say something but didn’t. “ah, i see. well you’ve been taking amazing care of mr. choi. according to your girlfriend, you seem to have an easier time breathing. she also said you’re reporting less pain in your head. this is good, since we usually expect swelling and inflammation from a concussion goes down pretty quickly. your concussion should be largely gone by next week, but i would advise against going back to work for some time. you can start walking on this as soon as you feel comfortable, until then use crutches. but, don’t drive until i give you the okay,” dr. hwang rambled, turning back to his computer.

you could tell seungcheol was excited, maybe he was excited that you would be leaving soon. your stomach sank at the thought, but you didn’t know why. seungcheol barely spoke to you, he couldn’t even look you in the eye most of the time. so, why did you feel bad about the thought of leaving him? you were snapped out of your thoughts when you realized dr. hwang had asked you a question. “um, if you could give me a moment alone with mr. choi, that would be great. i can take him out front once we’re done,” dr. hwang fiddled with his pen as he addressed you.

“yeah, of course. i’ll uh, i’ll just be in the waiting room.

after what seemed like an eternity, the two of them came out. dr. hwang smiled at you, and seungcheol looked nervous, finally putting a little weight on his foot with the help of some crutches. “thank you so much, dr. hwang. you’ve been so helpful,” you smiled at him. dr. hwang reciprocated it and patted seungcheol on the back. “mr. choi, look out for yourself. i’ll see you in a few weeks,” he said. seungcheol nodded.

the ride home was quiet, as always. by now you had grown used to it. when you arrived at seungcheol’s apartment and parked the car, he grabbed your hand before you could leave. “do you want to watch a movie tonight?” he asked. hold on, what? “we can order some take out or something.” maybe dr. hwang was wrong. maybe the swelling in his brain was actually worse.

your lack of response must’ve freaked seungcheol out. “we don’t have to! i was just thinking it could be a celebratory thing,” he tried to backtrack.

“no! i’d love- no, i mean, i’d like to watch a movie tonight. that would be nice,” you rushed to cut him off. your heart fluttered at the notion of watching a movie with seungcheol. maybe you could pretend just a little longer…

“what?” minjeong exclaimed. she was not happy with the current situation.

“minnie, when he asked me if i wanted to watch a movie with him my heart fluttered. what’s wrong with me?” you cried, flopping against the couch, turning down the volume on speaker phone. seungcheol had left to get showered and changed. luckily, you didn’t have to help him much with that anymore. “you’re still in love with him, ___,” minjeong sighed. “i feared this would happen. you cannot let him get in your head! remember how he treated you before! just yesterday he wasn’t even speaking with you, he’s probably just manipulating you or something.”

you couldn’t fathom him doing that. sure, he neglected you in your relationship, but he was never manipulative. “i don’t-” you began, but you were promptly cut off.

“you don’t get it, ___! you’re in a vulnerable state because you still love him and you’ve been waiting hand and foot to him, so he sees this as an opportunity to make something out of nothing.”

“if i love him, how is it nothing?”

“because you’re going to make it nothing. you can’t just let yourself fall back into his lap because he decided he wanted a movie night!”

“i don’t think it’s that easy.”

“you’re right, it’s not. that’s why you need to wrap up business there and get back to your life. your life where you can be free and meet whoever you want. where you don’t have to worry about the asshole who treated you like shit.”

“he didn’t treat me like shit.”

“he treated you like you barely even existed.”

you knew she wasn’t trying to be mean, but it did feel like she was opening an old wound.

so much for that dinner you made. the time you wasted was eating at you as you picked through the remnants of your food. it was your first day off in a while and you hoped to spend some of it with your boyfriend before having to go back to work the next day.

it was your bad to even think seungcheol would be home at the time he had said. you stared at seungcheol’s now cold meal. for the fifth time, you flipped your phone over to see what time it was. 11:47 pm and no word from him. you sighed and went to clear your plate. you wrapped up seungcheol’s meal and put it in the fridge. after all, he would be hungry when he got home.

“hello? ___, are you still with me?” minjeong snapped you out of your thoughts.

“yeah, sorry,” you rushed out. “look, i think seungcheol is almost out of the shower. i’ve got to go. i’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“i’m sorry if i come off too cold.” she sounded like she was regretting what she said earlier. she knew how to read you like a book even if it was just over a phone call. “it’s alright. you’re my best friend, i know you wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt me. now, i have to go now, for real this time,” you chuckled and hung up after you said goodbye to her.

you jumped a mile when you heard a clanking noise behind you. when you whipped around you saw seungcheol standing there, eyes wide, you felt something stir in your chest. he was leaning on a crutch with his leg wrapped in the bandages. he told dr. hwang that he wouldn’t wear the boot to bed. dr. hwang was reluctant but relented since the break was healing nicely and the boot wasn’t needed at night. his hair was damp, a plain white t-shirt clung to his body, and pajama pants hung loosely off his hips. something about this image looked so familiar, yet so distant.“sorry,” he mumbled leaning over to pick up the bowl he dropped, surprisingly it didn’t shatter on the hardwood floor. “no, wait, i’ll get it,” you said, pushing forward, frowning at the precarious nature of his stance. he straightened up and watched you pick up the bowl. “how long were you standing there? i could’ve helped,” you asked turning to go place the bowl in the sink.

“not long,” he rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “do you still want to watch a movie with me?” you nodded quietly and made your way to the couch. he followed behind and landed on the couch with a thud. “what do you want to watch?” you asked flipping the tv on.

“um, i’m not sure. i haven’t watched a lot of movies lately.” he shrugged. this was going to be harder than expected. instead of attempting to engage in this painful discussion, you opted to start scrolling through one of seungcheol’s million streaming apps.

you scrolled through movie after movie with varying enthusiasm levels from seungcheol. “stop, let’s just watch this one,” he suddenly said. if you were being honest, you stopped paying attention to the movie titles a long time ago. so when you saw “the notebook” as the selected movie, your jaw slackened. “you want to watch this?” you asked, making sure he meant that.

“i mean, i remembered when you showed me it, and i rewatched it recently. i really like it nowadays,” he said nonchalantly. you had shown him “the notebook” a long time ago. you had to beg him to watch it, and you remembered how he ended up crying by the conclusion. but now, it was strange to hear that he enjoyed the movie. not only that, but he remembered that you showed him the film. it was years ago, and he remembered. “okay, yeah, let’s watch it,” you said pressing play.

you were getting major deja vu while you watched it. seungcheol was curled up next to you, and somehow you found yourself curled up next to him. this hardly happened when you were together, and it made your heart hurt that it was happening after you had broken up. was a car accident what you needed to be close to him? you didn’t need to think about it now, not when you could smell his shampoo and fabric softener. it was so familiar, but you knew you couldn’t get too comfortable. after all, you weren’t his anymore, and he wasn’t interested. yet, something was scratching at the back of your throat. an urge. a desire. a feeling you thought was better to push down.

the movie was long over, but seungcheol had drifted off to sleep about twenty minutes before the movie ended. you didn’t have the heart to wake him, so you let him rest for a while before you lightly shook him awake. his eyes fluttered open and held your gaze with an expression you couldn’t pinpoint. “alright, sleeping beauty, time to get you into bed,” you smiled softly involuntarily running a hand through his hair. he seemingly leaned into your touch while looking around. “is the movie over? why didn’t you wake me?” he asked. you just shushed him quietly and helped him up. he held onto your shoulders and let you guide him to his bed. after a bit of work, you got him under the covers and on his pillow. when you moved to get up, his hand shot out and grasped your wrist. your neck whipped back at him. “what’s wrong?” you quizzed.

“stay,” is all he said, eyes closing.

you sighed. you couldn’t give in to him. you had set your boundaries, you were here to help that’s all. but, the longer you were with him, you realized the reasons why you hated him melted away within hours of being around him more. minjeong needed to be here to snap you out of it. “of course, he’s being nice to you now. don’t forget why you broke up in the first place,” she would’ve said. yet, she wasn’t here, and you were weak for him. as much as you would like to deny it, you knew you’d always crawl back to him. in this life and the next.

there couldn’t be any harm in staying with him, right? it was just one night. he wouldn’t try anything. he wasn’t like that. he didn’t even feel that way for you anymore. he definitely didn’t seem too bothered when you gave in and slid under the covers with him. to your surprise when you started to situate yourself, you felt his arms wrap under your body and pull you to the opposite side of the bed. just like old times. he always insisted to sleep closest to the door. he had told you it was a win-win for the both of you. he could have the comfort of feeling like he was protecting you, and you got the nice view out of his window on the opposite side of the room. you assured him back then that you didn’t need protection, but you never fought with him to switch positions.

you had grown used to his arm around your waist each night, and after you broke up you longed for his presence. you had cuddled your pillows and called minjeong. everything and anything to keep your mind off the empty space in your bed. so, now when you felt his arm wrap around you and his body pressed against yours, you froze. why did the thing you wanted for the past seven months cause you so much discomfort? being this close to him was like stepping into the salty waves at the beach with a cut you thought healed. your eyes began to sting, and you pleaded with your heart to not start shaking your body. you naturally moved closer to him when his grip became tighter around your waist, but your heart cried for the rest of the night.

when you woke up, you surprised yourself realizing you had a dreamless night. your chest hurt, but your eyes were dry. you turned over and noticed seungcheol’s side of the bed was empty. his boot was gone, so he must’ve put it on. you didn’t hear anything coming from the kitchen right outside the room, albeit his apartment was quite small and his living room was right there too. you slid on a hoodie and made your way out of his room to find where he went. maybe he was just as freaked out as you were, so maybe he just left to get some air. if you were him, you probably would’ve done to same. you wanted to kick yourself for falling into his lap again. maybe he regretted inviting you to stay, and now he was disgusted with himself for letting his ex sleep in the same bed as him again. your rational mind told you that wasn’t true. he wasn’t like that. yet, that’s what you told yourself when he show up late to numerous dates or just forget to message you.

you heard quiet arguing as soon as you stepped out of his room. you looked down to the front door and saw seungcheol leaning against the doorframe. his body wedged between the door and doorframe, effectively blocking your view of who was there. you quietly shuffled forward, trying not to startle him. “i just don’t understand why you’re here?” seungcheol asked, almost sounding stern.

“i’m just dropping off some paperwork,” the person on the other side of the door said. the voice sounded familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. “how’d you know where she was?” seungcheol grilled, sounding more frustrated with every passing second.

“look, dude, i’m just here to drop off some stuff from work. minjeong told me,” the guy tried again to reason with seungcheol. you recognized seungcheol’s tone, he got like that whenever he was jealous, but you couldn’t fathom why he would be jealous. you looked past seungcheol and saw changkyun standing there with a case file in hand. “oh my god, seungcheol, stop it. this is changkyun from work,” you nudged seungcheol to the side trying not to surprise him, but you were still upset he was berating your work friend.

“oh, hey, ___. minjeong sent me with these files. let me or minjeong know if you need anything else,” changkyun smiled at you. “i’ll let you go, you seem- um- preoccupied. but, we miss you at the office,” he glanced at seungcheol who was scowling at the ground.

“yeah, sorry about that. thank you for bringing this around. this is super helpful. i was getting tired of reading pdfs,” you laughed. “i’ll see you later.” changkyun nodded and left without another word. you shut the door and brushed past seungcheol. you heard an audible huff behind you but ignored it. after you dropped off the case of files in the office, breakfast was seemingly the best option for you.

seungcheol was already in the kitchen leaning against the fridge. it was highly inconvenient given you needed to get in there for some fruit. however, he wasn’t moving. “what are you doing?” you asked crossing your arms. he didn’t respond, just looking anywhere but at you. “what’s going on with you? what was with that attitude with changkyun?” you grilled, but you were only met with a scoff. now, that was weird. he sounded jealous, but there was nothing to be jealous of. “what’s wrong with you?” you frowned.

“why does it matter?” he mocked. you squinted your eyes at him. compared to last night’s situation, this was an entirely different person. “why does it matter? it’s just weird that he’d show up here unannounced,” seungcheol shrugged.

“he was here because minjeong sent him,” you stared him down.

“why couldn’t she come then? just seems like it’s a cover for him to see you. you didn’t tell me you were talking with someone else.”

“because i’m not talking to changkyun. i’m not talking to anyone. but, why does this matter so much to you? it’s not like he came in the house and started wrecking anything. he just dropped some stuff off.”

“we miss you at the office.”

“what?”

“that’s what he said.”

“i’m not following.”

seungcheol sighed and pushed himself off the fridge and over to his chair, groaning and stretching his leg once he was sitting. “god, ___, don’t be blind. he’s obviously into you,” he laughed humorlessly. now you were even more confused. “so what if he is? i’m not,” you shrugged, opening the fridge to get your fruit and yogurt.

“yeah, sure. whatever, that’s not the point,” seungcheol huffed again.

“then what is the point?”

“that he tried to come here and flirt with you when i’m right here!” he finally snapped. “it’s embarrassing! he looked at me with all this pity when i opened the door. i don’t want his pity. then you come around the corner, and he’s smiling ear to ear.” seungcheol looked like he was about to cry. you wanted to say something, but all you could was look at him, confused. “you pity me too. everyone does!” he rambled. “it’s so humiliating. and, and, i’m sure that you’d be happier at the office where he is. he’s more handsome than i am, and i’m sure he’s smarter and kinder than me. you deserve to go out and just leave me here. you don’t even want to be here. i see the way you look at me. it’s not the same way i look at you, so i couldn’t possibly as you to stay. why don’t you just go date a guy like that? i’m sure he can treat you better than- than me.”

you stood there dumbfounded. your heart ached for seungcheol, but you couldn’t stop the boiling anger in your stomach. how could he possibly think so lowly of himself? did he not see how you were still so infatuated with him? did he not realize the reason why you hadn’t talked to anyone new was because of him? and for him to accuse you of pitying him, after all the care you put into helping him get better. to accuse you of not wanting to be there, with him. you wouldn’t haven’t been here if you didn’t care. you knew you cared too much for seungcheol, for someone who you knew didn’t even care about you. what made him any different from back when you were dating?

“you’re so cruel,” you whispered, grabbing your food and heading to the office.

there was radio silence for the next few hours. you would occasionally hear something, but seungcheol never knocked or tried to come in. the tip-toeing around each other was killing you. it felt awfully familiar to when seungcheol became distant from you before the two of you broke up. work was monotonous and nothing was holding your attention. all you could think about was what seungcheol said. you didn’t realize he felt that way about himself, or you for that matter. it hurt, and it hurt even more to wallow in it when he was right on the other side of the door.

you couldn’t be the same person you were seven months ago. pushing down your concerns, hoping they would pass. they wouldn’t, you knew that, unless you talked to him. he would be getting better soon, and you could put this in the past. you could leave again once this was all over, never to look back. you couldn’t take another heartbreak because of him again.

so your resolve broke and you pushed yourself out of the office chair and went to find seungcheol.

he remembered the day you left like it was yesterday. he heard you gather some things from your room and left without another word. “yeah, i guess so,” he muttered to himself angrily. “you’re such an idiot,” he continued. he didn’t even understand why he said that to you. it was uncalled for, especially given you wanted to talk about your strained relationship. he knew he was distant, but he didn’t know what else to do. so, he pushed it down until he couldn’t take it anymore, well, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

not having you around the apartment for the first few weeks felt like torture. he had drafted and re-written several messages to you and even considered calling, but he never pulled through with any of it. his mind was constantly unfocused on his work. the work he sacrificed everything for. the work he tried so hard to keep up to help you, help the both of you. he couldn’t bring himself to eat as much as he usually did, when the pit of his stomach was killing him from the inside out.

now that you were gone he constantly tried to take his mind off of you. he couldn’t let a breakup disorient him like this. he had broken up with other people before, but never like this. he couldn’t stop replaying everything that went wrong in his mind, everything he could’ve done to stop it. maybe if he put up a fight you would’ve stayed. but, he didn’t fight at all. he cowered at the suggestion of breaking up, and instead of facing it, he fled and accepted fate. waves of uncertainty lapped at his feet and eventually, the waters rose until it was unbearable. if you wanted to break up with him then that’s what would happen, no matter what ran through his mind and heart.

no matter the fact he had a little velvet box in the bottom of his sock drawer.

he was going to a party. he said he would buy alcohol, so he did. while he was driving he felt something shift within him. he thought about all the parties he had taken you to, and how all parties with you there were so much more bearable. all he could think about was how bored he would be. he loved his friends, but something was missing if you weren’t also there sharing a drink or discussion with him. yet, he let joshua convince him to come out. joshua had told him not to drown in any more work. joshua saw how the work was wearing down his friend, and he couldn’t take it anymore. so, seungcheol was going to a party he didn’t particularly want to attend, but he was getting there, even if he felt himself push the accelerator down more than he should.

but something stopped him from going to the party, and now he felt like he was floating above his body. he felt waves wash over him, and when they retreated he felt cold and vulnerable. he felt dazed and had a throbbing pain in his head, leg, and heart. he remembered the beating rain against his windshield and feeling the tires give out on him. he remembered your smile and your fingers running through his then-long hair. you told him everything was going to be alright, and he believed you. then, there was a rhythmic beeping next to him, some rustling by him, and your voice was gone. his head hurt too much, but he forced his eyes open.

in some sort of last-ditch effort of hope, he thought it could be you. you could be there fixing some magazines in the room or adjusting the blinds. yet, he opened his eyes and he didn’t see you there, just a nurse organizing some of the tubes next to him. seungcheol tried turning his head around, groaning. the nurse noticed and left to go get someone. maybe it could be you. no, that wouldn’t make sense. it couldn’t be you, and it wasn’t. it was his mother. she cried and asked him if he was alright. she asked where you were and what he was doing, but he didn’t have a good response to any of her questions. when she started to pry about you, he realized he had forgotten to mention the fact you were broken up. she had called soon after it ended because it was time for her to call her son, but he went into auto-pilot and told her you were fine, and he just never got around to telling her the truth. she loved you, and he knew that.

he definitely couldn’t do it then. it would break her, just like it broke him.

when he saw you standing at the door behind his mother, he wanted to burst into tears, but it would probably hurt his lung. besides, he didn’t need you to see how broken up about it he was. everything hurt, but it only hurt more when he saw you. you looked gorgeous, and your voice was like music to his ears. what if you had a boyfriend? the thought flashed through his mind. any person would be lucky to date you, but the idea caused his stomach to roll.

your hair looked so pretty too, but your clothes looked like a mess. he hoped he didn’t cause you too much worry. yet, he was worried now. his lie was going to be exposed. he saw the way you looked at him, helpless and injured. you wouldn’t spare him, not after what he did. his mom was talking to you just like everything was normal, but he saw the look on your face. you were confused and probably angry. he knew you, and he knew you would correct his mom as soon as you could. so when she backed away and went to get something from the closet, he couldn’t tell what you were thinking, and that scared him.

the last thing he expected was for you to agree and help. he also expected you to correct his mother when she went on and on about how you were his girlfriend and how she knew how much you loved each other. he could sense your discomfort anytime he was around, so he made himself scarce and tried not to be a bother. what you were doing was already such a help to him, and he had no idea how he was ever going to repay you.

he recalled when you pushed him around in his wheelchair at the supermarket, and all he wanted to do was disappear. it was his first visit to the store for a while, and there was something especially embarrassing about having your ex push you around the market, even if they didn’t know he had broken your heart. he didn’t know why he agreed to come. he would feel your hands brush past his shoulders as you would reach to grab something before dropping it in the shopping basket sitting in his lap. the tiny bit of contact from you had him going insane. he wanted to apologize for having you here, for his mom calling, for lying, for breaking your heart. he was scared, that if he opened his mouth, his heart would betray him and he’d say something that would make you run away again. but, he knew it wasn’t the time for that, so whenever your fingers graze his shoulder he swallowed whatever apology or confession (whichever came out first) down until it reached the bottom of his heart.

you were wheeling him past the bakery and he saw the sweet milk bread he would always get as a treat on weekends. maybe you could share it again like you used to, but he doubted it. though, before he could process it, he was clearing his throat. you paused and he sensed you looking at him. “uh-,” he paused, coughing. “can, can we get the milk bread over there?” he asked. you looked around to where he was motioning. you saw it. he felt you pause. maybe he shouldn’t have asked. “it’s no big deal, actually. it was a dumb request. never-” he rambled but all of a sudden your hands brushed over his shoulders and you walked over to the table where the freshly baked bread was packaged. you inspected one and brought it back, placing it gently on the top of seungcheol’s basket. “do you need anything else?” you asked, quietly standing behind him again. he shook his head.

for the first few weeks, it was awkward and humiliating. he couldn’t bear you at his beck and call. he could barely even talk to you, too embarrassed. he needed to get out of the wheelchair as soon as possible. he willed his body to heal faster, so then maybe the pain that festered in his chest would go away. one night, he woke up and he was parched. he had run out of water, he must’ve forgotten to get more before he went to bed. he also noticed his stomach was growling. he had refused to eat anything for dinner. once again, his bad. it reminded him of the time when he would come home late to a dark home. he was starving, but he knew you had eaten. you had long gone to bed, but he smelled the food you cooked. he looked in the fridge and saw his helping there. he sighed. he knew it was your day off that day, but he couldn’t seem to draw himself away from his work. got too distracted.

so, he needed water and food, but to get there he would have to get out of his room and into the kitchen. specifically, he needed to get past you on the couch without waking you. pushing himself out of bed, he reached for his crutches. he got them secured under his arms and made his way out of his open door. you had insisted on keeping it open, so you could hear him if he needed anything. but, he saw the way you walked into his room deflated, leaving his dinner on his bedside table, cleaning the barely touched food an hour later, and retreating to the couch to sleep after a presumably hard day at work. he wouldn’t be able to bear it if he woke you up now.

he stepped as lightly as he could given his situation, but you were out like a light. he contained a chuckle seeing you all curled up on his couch. though, he did feel bad. the couch was no place to sleep for a long time. if only he could share his bed with you and not make it weird… he quietly ate a protein bar and got a glass of milk. he watched from the kitchen how smooth your breathing was. he frowned when you began to toss and turn. he wiped his mouth and moved over to you. after resting his crutches on the floor, he sat on the ottoman in from of the couch, closest to your head. he leaned forward and watched your troubled expression. sometimes he would press a kiss on your forehead, but that would be entirely inappropriate. yet, he couldn’t do anything while he watched this perfect person in front of him suffer.

so, his hand was reaching forward and caressing your cheek before he knew it. your skin felt amazing under his fingertips. he missed holding your hand, hugging you from behind, and kissing your lips. he wondered how he could’ve messed up this horribly. he felt your breath even out, and he noticed how your brow un-furrowed. gently pulling back his hand, he smiled and made his way back to his room. it was only then after he crossed the doorway, he realized what he had done. the clear boundary he had tried to maintain melted within those twenty minutes of him getting a midnight snack. he didn’t deserve the treatment he was getting from you. he wished you would yell and scream at him for what he did. resentment. he yearned for you to resent him, but no, you had to come and be the amazing person you were. he couldn’t let himself feel this close to you again.

but, he broke his promise. just like he always did. he invited you to sleep in his bed after a movie night he suggested. after offering, he realized he probably shouldn’t have offered the movie in the first place, but hindsight is 20-20. it felt too inappropriate, unspeakable even. especially, after he caught what minjeong was saying to you before you turned on the movie. he shouldn’t have eavesdropped, but minjeong was yelling on the other side of the phone and no matter how much you could turned down the volume, he still would’ve heard it.

“he treated you like you barely even existed,” minjeong had said.

now, he didn’t want to believe that, but he knew it was true. working longer hours, barely seeing you, and coming home at odd hours of the night were all factors which were purely his fault. he could’ve requested time off, but he didn’t. it was his ambition that blinded him. the thought that if he worked hard enough now, he could be with you more later. but, he had forgotten he wasn’t the only person in the equation, and you only had so much patience. the patience he had wrongfully wasted.

your back was turned to him. he didn’t know why it hurt so much given the situation. being face-to-face in bed would be too intimate. too dangerous. yet, that’s all he wanted. he longed to feel your body next to his, to know that what was once shared between you was still there. so, he took a risk. he reached forward and pressed his chest against your back, his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

he waited and waited for you to pull away, and much to his surprise, you never did. you stayed in his arms like old times, but he knew it couldn’t be like that. he didn’t know if he could ever have you like this again. the recovery period of you taking care of him was painful on a multitude of levels. he was giving you space since he already felt like a burden, and it appeared to him like he was the plague. it was for the best, but he still wanted to hold you and kiss you to show his thanks. all he could do was say thank you and quietly retreat back into his mind. so, he held you like it was the last time, which it likely was, and he fell into a deeper, quieter sleep for the first time in weeks. the waves retreated and did not come back for the rest of the night.

who was this guy standing at his door? why were you smiling so widely at this guy? why was this guy smiling so widely back at you? did he just sleep in the same bed with you when you had a boyfriend? so many questions, and so little patience left on his end. this guy was so handsome, with a sharp nose and intense eyes. he could see how you could go to someone like that, someone completely opposite of him. any hope of last night not being a one-off thing leaving his mind. the guy glanced over at him and gave him a look he was all too familiar with. the old ladies at the supermarket gave him this look. his mother gave him this look. even you sometimes. he was broken and mangled and people loved to look. so, to hide their nosiness, they concealed it with concern and pity. he hated that. sometimes you would do it, and he wanted to rip his hair out. he hated it when you would generate idle conversation or say his name like some sort of swear word. what ever happened to being your cheol?

the doubt came flooding back into his mind, and he was lost in the sea of his own thoughts again. the waves were back, and he didn’t know how to keep them at bay. the tide was coming in stronger, and he could feel every brick he had built crumble under the pressure. when could this conversation be over?

he didn’t mean to lash out at you and your work friend. it was the waves. the waves that splashed into his face. the water that fell into his throat and choked him. he had to spit it out or it was going to drown him. every little thing he had hidden away came out. the confessions, insecurities, and everything else that held him back now and back then. he just needed to get it out before the waves came crashing in on him again when you would inevitably leave.

“you’re so cruel,” you had said, and you were right. he was. how could he be so cruel to one of the only people who ever showed him unconditional kindness? it was over, and he knew it.

all of his memories felt disjointed. almost as if someone had glued them together into a scrapbook. you were trying so hard to follow what he was telling you. the entire time he refused to look at you. his hands were clasped together, face flushed. “i suppose that was a long winded way to say i’m sorry,” he said finally looking at you for the first time. “i’m sorry for treating you so horribly when we were together, and even now. i’m sorry for standing you up and coming home drunk. you’re right, i am cruel, and i will never forgive myself for how i treated you,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes.

you knew he had problems with anxiety and doubt, but you never thought it was this bad. you were mad at him, but you wished he had told you. told you about how he felt like he was drowning everywhere he went. “seungcheol, i-” you began but he cut you off.

“i understand if you want to leave. i can just have joshua take me to physical therapy and my appointments. i’ve asked you to stay for too long. it wasn’t right of me. if anything, i owe you so much. you shouldn’t have to be forced to be anywhere you don’t want to be,” he said.

you stared at him. you had never seen him so defeated. when you came to talk to him, you didn’t expect him to be the one prepared with an apology. you just wanted to talk, but now that you began piecing together the things he told you. you realized how much he did care. he saw the food you made for him. he saw the effort you put in. for some reason, that just made you feel a little better. you always felt like he didn’t see you, but he did. this entire time. “what if i want to be here?” you asked, meeting his gaze. his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips. “then, i would ask you to stay. i would promise to treat you the way you deserve. i would make every wrong i made right with you,” he confessed, moving closer to you on the couch. he reached forward and grabbed your hand. “i'm sorry for being such an asshole to you. i would apologize every second of every day.anything to get you to trust me again,” he continued. “anything so i can be yours.”

your heart felt full. it was healing. for some reason, you believed him. minjeong would probably yell at you for “falling for his trap,” but you had a feeling he was telling the truth, that he wasn’t going to mess it up again. “then, let’s start over,” you smiled, eyes welling up. he lifted a hand and gently wiped the tears that threatened to fall with his thumb. “gladly,” he smiled. you pulled your hand away from the one he was grasping at, and extended it to him. “i’m ___, nice to meet you,” you smiled. he grinned, glancing between your face and your outstretched hand. “nice to meet you too. i’m seungcheol,” he said clasping your hands together. he felt the waves were receding, and by the look on your face, you felt it too.

you were out shopping for what felt like the fourth time this week. you just kept forgetting something on your list that honestly couldn’t wait until the next week. then your phone began to ring. you slid it out of your pocket and answered it. “what am i forgetting?” you asked as soon as the line connected.

“nothing, i was just wondering if you could get some milk bread,” the voice on the other side of the phone asked. you laughed quietly to yourself. “what’s the occasion?” you joked.

“it’s the weekend, and i love you,” seungcheol said. you felt your heart soar. you sighed happily and made your way over to the milk bread. you were still on the line with him, and you could hear him humming. maybe now was the time you brought it up. “so, you want the same kind from the bakery, right?” you asked, stalling.

“of course,” he scoffed. “the fresh ones from the bakery are obviously superior to the ones that one brand makes.” it was funny since he said it like it was obvious. you hummed and placed one of the loaves in your cart. “is there anything else?” you asked. you heard seungcheol shifting around. “nope, that should be all for me,” he replied.

“everything i’m getting is for you,” you rolled your eyes. he chuckled. you continued to chat with him as you walked through the store, picking up a few leftover things. you decided it would be a good time to end the call when you got to the register, but not before you brought it up. “look, cheol, i’m at the register, so i’ll have to go,” you said, getting in line.

“oh, okay, sounds good. i’ll see you at home?” he asked to confirm.

“yes, after i get back, though, can we talk about that red velvet box in your sock drawer?” you smirked.

“yeah, sure of co- wait! how do you know about that?” seungcheol took a second to process what you had told him. he sounded frantic on the other side of the phone, and it made you laugh. “oh, looks like the line is moving, i’ve got to go! we’ll talk more when i get back, right?” you smiled.

“yes, for sure, yes! we will be talking because you weren’t supposed to see that!” seungcheol exclaimed. “see you soon, i love you, ___.”

“i love you too, cheol,” you replied easily. because, in this life, you loved him, and he loved you back.

minli | sort of proofread! working on it… i think the plot makes sense… right… please say it does. this has sort of been my child for the past month or so… i actually used the max amount of pictures in this LOL ASLDKJ. please leave some feedback if you want :) likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated :)

tagging | @a-wandering-stay @cinnamoroxie @wonwoosthetic

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loviingpedri · 5 months ago

Text

tasting blondies - mason mount and joe burrow

prompt: noticing a pattern in your love life.

joe b x reader

ex!mason mount x reader

warnings: grammar issues, cursing, arguing

click to help palestine

credits to owners for all images

sitting on the couch with you boyfriend, joe. you ran your fingers through his short hair.

“i can’t believe you did this.” you laughed as both of you smiled.

“yeah, me either. i decided to change it up for the summer. do something for the new season.” he held you tight, smelling his strong cologne.

“if it’s one thing, you look good. really good.” you clicked your tongue at the emphasis of the word ‘really’.

and that’s when the flashback hit you.

slowly touching his hair, admiring the white chocolate color. at the same time a few years ago, you would be ending a messy situation with a boy with a similar haircut, mason mount.

“is there something wrong?” joe asked you as your expression changed.

“no, nothing is wrong. something just came in mind.”

you love joe, seriously. the memories of june 2023 always come back to haunt you. meeting the famous other footballer, changing your life. you experienced so many things within a month. you were so attached, blinded by love, nothing would’ve seen it coming.

on mason’s summer vacation, he invited you to go to spain with him. of course you accepted, you wanted to see what this relationship could bring to your life.

in the end, it was pain, regret, and heartbreak.

joe was staring at your facial features and talking gently, “you can talk to me.”

“it’s nothing. just some old memories came back. it was never important anyway.” your cleared your throat, desperately wanting to change the topic on the conversation.

“is it about that one guy you told me about? mason mount, right?”

you looked at him, trying to find a good answer.

“yeah, but i don’t wanna think about him. he’s long gone in my life. i’m craving some brownies, what about you?”

laughing at you, “i think it’s funny, the guys sent in the group chat of him when i first showed my hair. they said it was funny how you’re dating another blonde now.”

“i never thought of that.” you laid your back on the coach, really taking in the information of the pattern you just figured out.

“you know, you never told me what happened with him.” you looked at joe, a lump formed in your throat.

————flashbacks————

“are you serious right now, mase?” you pushed him away from you as he was attempting to explain.

“it wasn’t like that!”

“you use that same fucking excuse for everything.”

“i’m not the one who followed someone else on this vacation.” he threw his arms up.

“everything is about you. isn’t it? i went on this vacation because i was in love with you. mase, you can’t be serious right now.”

“nobody told you to catch feelings, alright. i thought we both assumed this wasn’t gonna be serious.” you scoffed at him.

“so you took this as a joke? i am not a joke.”

“holy shit, you’re actually unbelievable. we were never official!”

“to you. you think mind games is funny?”

“i only thought this was a summer fling. i thought you were gonna see other people, like me. i wasn’t gonna stay in chelsea forever and i was sure you weren’t gonna stay.”

tears forming in your eyes. you were in disbelief.

“of course i was gonna stay with you. i was ready to leave everything behind to follow you. i thought we had something.”

“sorry y/n. you thought wrong.”

————flashback ended————

you cleared your throat as you poured white chocolate chips into the batter.

“so yeah, that was my lame ex.” you gave him a warm smile as you shared the most vulnerable part of your life.

“you didn’t deserve that, seriously.” joe stroked your hair as he ate a few chips.

“the past is past. the pain is healed, and i’ve got the best boyfriend ever.”

joe kissed your forehead as the oven beeped after it was done pre-heating.

sitting on the couch with freshly baked blondies.

“i think you have some sort of magic on men.” joe said, taking a bite after.

“what?”

“you start dating a guy, then all of a sudden, he goes blonde.” he shrugged his shoulders.

“i’ve never thought of that. i’m just really that powerful then.”

sharing a laugh, you were proud of the person you became. the pain healed, and so did your heart.

because, in the end, your feelings are valid. and you learned a lesson that no matter how much something hurts you, you can find happiness somewhere else, for the better.

#football x reader #football fanfic #football imagine #mason mount x you #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount #manchester united #joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #mason mount x y/n #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow imagine #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow bengals #bengals

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stefans-brock · 1 year ago

Text

colby brock

heartbreak anniversary.

summary: it had been months after colby's girlfriend had left him, and he still hadn't gotten over her. she left him heartbroken. but after she reached out to him for his birthday, the two reconnected.

a/n: i'd highly recommended that you listen to 'heartbreak anniversary' whilst reading this! 🫶🏽

it was colby's birthday, though many would look forward to their birthday - colby didn't. he was dreading it, the thought of his birthday brought back many memories - memories he didn't want to reminisce.

it had turned midnight on the second january, and he was laid on his bed, looking up, staring at the ceiling - feeling bad for himself. he let out a sigh before looking over to his phone, which sat on the bedside table.

a flashback of previous years occurs in his head - it had become a tradition that y/n would always text colby at midnight exactly on the day it turns his birthday. she'd wish him the happiest of birthdays, continue with a 'i love you' and end it with 'i'll see you later'

"fuck, stop it" colby cursed, scolding himself. he always reminded himself never to think about the past, but how could he stop when that was the happiest he'd ever been. after parting ways with y/n, colby became deprived of love and loving. he would sometimes let himself become selfish and reminisce his time with y/n because that's all that he had, he knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself.

he grabbed the plushie, which lay beside him and settled it on his chest. he closed his eyes as he breathed in the scent from the plushie. it was a pink and blue dinosaur plushie, which went by the name 'bubbles'. the scene of colby winning it for y/n played in his head, the corner of his lips curved slightly at the memory. he remembered the smile and laughs from y/n as he concentrated on the claw machine. she squealed when colby handed her the dinosaur. she informed colby that the dinosaur reminded her of bubblegum, and so colby came up with the name 'bubbles'.

during the break-up, y/n left bubbles at colby's. it hurt colby every day to see the plushie, but it reminded him of his soulmate - so he couldn't ever bring himself to throw it out or try hide it in his closet - because in reality, he needed it. it helped him bear the pain and hurt.

a knock on the door brought colby back to reality. he opened his eyes and glanced over to the door, which was now slightly open, with sam's head peeking in. colby gave him a small smile before nodding his head beside him.

sam walked in, closing the door behind him and walked up over to colby. colby placed the plushie down beside him and sat up on the bed.

"happy birthday, brother" sam cheered, pulling colby up off the bed. colby let out a quiet laugh whilst he reciprocated the hug.

sam pulled back, looking at colby's face. he'd know the boy ever since they were young boys, so though colby didn't or rather couldn't express his feeling, sam already knew what he was feeling.

"you all good, man?" sam asked cautiously. colby nodded eagerly, "y-yeah, all good here" colby lied. "have you heard from her?" sam finally asks.

colby lets out a deep breath before dropping down on his bed, crossing his legs whilst hiding his face in his hands. he shakes his head. "i'm sorry, man," he says, taking a seat besides colby.

"i just-" colby tries to say but gets cut off by the lump in his throat, he swallows it down before trying again- "i just wonder if she thinks of me the same way i think of her" colby admits.

"i think she does, colby. what you two had was -" sam assures him, placing his hand on his back. "it was something special, man" he shakes his head.

sam tried his best to reassure colby and comfort him and colby appreciated it, but inside, he was still feeling the same.

"we should probably head to sleep," colby announces, making sam nod his head. "see you in the morning, man," he smiles before giving colby one more hug. he then leaves colby's bedroom, leaving colby all alone again with his thoughts.

colby shuffled down on his bed, laying down on the mattress. he turned to his side, facing the bedside table. he bit down on his bottom lip as he noticed the face in the picture frame, staring at him.

he reached his hand out to the picture frame and placed it facing down. he shook his head, trying to escape the memories that were entering his head again. how could he try to get over y/n or move on from her when his bedroom felt haunted by her. she was everywhere but nowhere.

just as colby's eyes became heavy, he heard his phone begin to ring. he groaned, reaching his hand out to the bedside table, patting his hand around on it until he grasped his phone.

he answered the call, not even bothering to look at the caller id. "hello" his voice came across tired and hoarse as he spoke into the phone.

"colby" the familiar voice spoke, quiet like a whisper. "y/n" colby cleared his throat as he sat up on his bed. "hi" colby spoke again. he heard her take a deep breath before speaking, "happy birthday, colby."

"sorry, i know i'm a few minutes late than normal," she says. colby let out out a little laugh, "you still called." colby shakes his head in disbelief. this was the last thing he's expected to happen. "colby?" she asks, colby humming in response.

"are you still in vegas?" she stutters over her words. "yeah, still with sam and kat" colby reminds her. "i remember," she says, colby swears he could feel her smile through the phone.

the two stayed quiet for a moment. it wasn't an awkward silence but rather a comforting silence. "uhm, okay, so i should get going," she mumbles, "happy birthday, again," she finishes. "y/n?" colby pipes up quickly before the call ends. "yeah?" she replies. "will i see you later on today?" he asks, hoping she'd say her standard answer of 'yes, of course you will', but instead, silence filled the air again.

she takes a deep breath in, "i don't know colby, i don't think you will," she says. "y/n," colby sighed. "i'm sorry colby, but i have to go," and with that, she ends the call.

"fuck" colby exclaims, throwing his phone across his bed. he throws his hands up to his head whilst muttering out profanities.

memories intruded his mind, mocking and reminding him of what he had lost.

he remembered the way her lips tasted, how they'd move against his, the way his hands fit perfectly on her waist. the way she would always tap her necklace in counts of three whenever she got nervous.

he hated it - he hated how he remembered everything, every little detail. he hated how much he loved her - or rather how much he still loves her. he hates how much she impacts him even now, how every thought of his is consumed by her.

with her stuck in his mind, colby eventually fell asleep. unconsciously, he had reached over beside him and held out for the pink and blue plushie from before.

the sound of happy birthday playing through a phone, whilst sam and katrina sang along, was heard by colby when he woke up due to the disturbance.

colby groaned as he pulled the covers above his head, "it's your birthday, dude!" katrina squealed, "happy birthday, man!" sam exclaimed. he made his way to stand on colby's bed and then began jumping on the mattress.

katrina rolled her eyes at colby before pulling the covers down, "get up!" she exclaims. "too tired!" colby groans as he nuzzles his face into his pillow. "colby, i swear to god if you don't get up right now -" katrina starts.

"geez, i'm up" colby yawned, sitting up. he rubbed his eyes open before looking up at sam, who was still jumping up and down on the bed. "you need help, brother," colby chuckled, shaking his head.

sam ignored him and jumped down, off the bed, now standing next to katrina. "happy birthday colbs!" katrina smiled, opening her arms for colby.

colby stayed sat on his bed but lent up to give her a hug, "thanks guys" colby smiled. "so what's on the agenda today, birthday boy?" katrina asks, taking a seat on the foot of the bed.

"lets just make it a chill one this year" colby informs both of them, "nonsense, it's your twenty seventh" katrina pipes up. "we gotta go wild" she finishes.

colby chewed his inner cheek before glancing over at sam, who was looking at katrina with widened eyes whilst shaking his head slightly - giving her a 'don't push him' look.

colby looked back at katrina and nodded, "you're right, it's my twenty seventh. let's go crazy!" colby cheered, making katrina smile, and sam looking concerned.

"right, so, breakfast?" sam asks, "wanna go out?" he finishes, raising an eyebrow to colby. "yeah, lets do it, man," colby nods along. "okay, meet us down in twenty," sam states, colby nodding along in agreement.

katrina stood up from the bed and walked behind sam as the two made their way out of colby's bedroom. "wait, kat!" colby shouts after her.

katrina turns around, humming in response, "what's up?" she asks. sam had also stopped in his tracks, now looking at colby. "can i talk to you?" colby asks, moving his eyes over to katrina.

sam gave colby a small nod and smiled before walking out, closing the bedroom door after him.

katrina takes a seat in the same place she sat a minute ago. "has she said anything about me to you? colby asks after taking in a deep breath.

"colby -" katrina shakes her head, "please, kat" colby pleads. she lets out a sigh, "she misses you" katrina admits, "she feels so guilty, colbs" katrina continues.

guilty? why was she feeling guilty?

colby's eyebrows furrowed. colby's friends and family knew the two broke up, but only a few knew the real reason behind why.

colby had never publicised his relationship, so as far as the fans knew, colby didn't have a girlfriend - or the slight few that had seen the two in public before, assumed they were still together. when it came to letting others know, they decided to say it was a mutual decision, and the two would go on to stay friends.

the only people who knew the truth? y/n, colby, kat, and sam.

the truth was y/n left but not because she gave up on what she had with colby. there was an accumulation of reasons, really. she was scared that her relationship with colby was going too well and she was expecting it to crumble down any second of their relationship, making her anxious a lot of the time, or thinking about things intensely - too intensely, over analysing situations and conversations. another reason was a lack of self-worth. she had an idea in her head that she wasn't good enough for colby and that he deserved more than her.

"besides feeling guilty, she's actually doing well, colby." katrina informs him, snapping his out of his trance. "she's been really working on herself a lot these past few months," katrina continues on. "i know she misses you, colby," katrina pouts, fiddling with her rings on her fingers. "a lot," she says after a short pause.

"what do i do now though kat, i need her," colby lets himself become vulnerable in front of the girl he calls his sister. "come here," katrina pats the mattress beside her, signalling colby to shuffle over, and he does so.

kat gives colby a hug, "you just need to wait colbs. you'll have her sooner than you think" she informs him.

colby pulls back from the hug and nods hesitantly. "can i tell you something?" colby sighs, katrina nods in response.

"i can't stop thinking about her," colby admits, "everywhere i look, i see her. right when i wake up, up until the moment my eyes shut. and even still, she appears in my dreams like she's a mythical being. " colby shakes his head, realising he's said too much.

"soon, okay. i promise, " katrina frowns before standing up.

"today's about you colbs," katrina plasters a sad smile on her lips before she turns to walk towards the door. "remember, things happen when you least expect them too," colby watched as she walked out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

once colby was left alone in his room, he dramatically dropped his back down against the mattress. he let his hand run through his hair, tugging slightly due to the feeling of frustration.

after recollecting his thoughts - or in better words pushing down his thoughts - he rose up on his feet and made his way to his closet.

he picked out his favourite xplr tracksuit and laid it on his bed before making his way into his bathroom.

he took a shower, brushed his teeth, and then stood in front of the mirror to style his hair. after getting himself semi-ready, he made his way back into his bedroom, with a towel wrapped around his lower half, and got changed into the tracksuit he had previously picked out.

he finished off by putting on his jewellery - such as his chunky, silver rings and his layered, cross necklace. grabbing his phone, wallet, and keys, he stuffed them in his pockets before running his way downstairs.

sam and katrina were already standing at the front door, the couple now out of their pyjamas and in their day clothes. "ready?" sam asks, looking up from his phone, katrina doing the same. colby nods in response. the three now making their way out of the house, colby locked up whilst katrina and sam walked up to sam's car. "you can have the front, birthday boy," katrina chuckles, opening the back door of the car. colby gives her a playful smile before taking a seat in the front passenger seat.

"so, where are we going?" colby asks the two, turning to put his seatbelt on. "there's a new brunch place on the strip" katrina shrugs, "yeah, lets do that. that sounds good" colby nods.

sam turns his key in the car, starting the ignition, and then begins the drive to the strip.

the drive only lasted a few minutes short of half an hour before arriving at the café.

"are we underdressed?" colby announces, opening up the café door for both katrina and sam to walk in. "we aren't" katrina whispers, her finger moving back and forth between her and sam, "but you might be" she giggles, shaking her head.

colby looks down at his xplr tracksuit and shrugged before catching up with the couple, who had now found a table.

the three sat in a booth, colby and sam on one side whilst katrina sat alone - though opposite them.

"i'm starving," sam huffs as he flicks through the menu. "same, man," colby joins in.

the three eventually pick out their meals and put in their order.

"are you sure it isn't too early for a cherry cola?" sam asks, looking over at colby, whose gulping down said drink. "it's never too early for a cherry cola" colby grins before placing the glass down on the table. sam chuckled whilst shaking his head. he then moved his focus on his girlfriend, who was talking about a new song of hers.

colby tried listening to her speak, but the glass he had just drank from - left an imprint in his mind. "cherry cola," he barely whispers. he runs the pad of his thumb against his bottom lip.

cherry like her lips, her favourite chapstick was cherry flavoured.

colby bit down on his bottom lip as he remembered the taste of her lips. the memory of his last kiss with her, taunting his mind. he remembered everything, from the way her lips moved against his, the way they tasted, to the way she always tried to tease colby by running her tongue across his bottom lip.

"colbs?" katrina's voice took colby out of his trance, "so what'd you think?" katrina asks. colby raises his eyebrows at her, "sorry, i didn't hear." colby shook his head. "it's okay, never mind," she smiles before turning her attention to sam.

after that encounter, colby stayed focused on the conversations. not only because he felt bad for not paying attention but because he couldn't allow himself to reminisce his past - it still hurt him. it reminded him of what he now didn't have: her.

shortly after, their meals came out, and three scarfed down their food - it was evident that they were all hungry.

once finished, sam paid the bill, and three made their way back to their house.

"i forgot i needed to go to target!" katrina exclaimed as sam began larking the car in the driveway. "seriously?" sam tuts. "i need to get candles for the cake, sam!" katrina huffs. "i don't need candles on my cake" colby shrugs.

"you're getting candles, colby," katrina says, shooting a glare out colby, who just puts his hand up in defence. katrina then looked in the rear view mirror to make eye contact with sam.

"take me," she pouts, "babe, i can't. i have to finish up editing. " sam shakes his head. the two then look over at colby, "will you take me?" katrina pleads. "oh" colby scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "uhm, yeah, sure" he agrees. "thank you, thank you, thank you!" she sings as she gets out the backseat. she then opens up the passenger side door, looking down at colby, who's still sat there.

"oh right, yeah" colby chuckles. he watches sam exit the drivers seat before he leaps over the center console, now taking a seat in front of the wheel. katrina now taking a seat on the passenger side.

sam said his 'see you laters' to his best friend and girlfriend before making his way inside, whilst the other two, made their way to target.

"one direction?" katrina squeals, "you bet!"

it had been two hours since colby and katrina arrived at target. the first half an hour was spent at the starbucks in target, and it took katrina twenty minutes to decide what drink she wanted. during the time katrina spent deciding, colby stood and watched her - in utter confusion. how could someone take so long when ordering a drink.

after that debacle, the two went to go get the candles. "colbs, can you get a cart?" katrina asks. "we're just getting candles. why do we need a cart? colby asks. "we just do," she smiles. colby shook his head as he walked over to the cart bay.

as he pulled out a cart and wheeled it over towards katrina, he realised he'd messed up by agreeing to take her - it was going to be a long trip.

and a long trip it was. it had been two hours in, and katrina was still looking around as if she had just walked in.

"kat, i'm tired," colby whined as he pushed the cart. "nearly done," she says. she's been saying that for the past hour now.

after the three hours total in target, they two finally made it out there alive.

"i'm never being your chauffeur again," colby huffs as he unloads the bags from the cart to the backseats of the car. katrina chuckled as she helped him with the bags.

it was nearly six in the evening when the two arrived back home.

"i can't believe you bought this much shit," colby shook his head as he grabbed two bags per hand, beginning to turn towards the door. "wait colbs!" katrina exclaims, making colby hum in response, "don't leave me alone. it's dark out here, " she says, colby just nodded, letting her go in front of him.

the two walked through the house in pitch darkness, "kat, put the lights on!" colby says as he drops the bags on the kitchen island. "doing it!" she says back. colby heard rustling beside him, which he thought came from katrina trying to find the lights, but when the lights flicked on and colby looked beside him - he dropped his jaw in utter shock.

"happy birthday, colby!" and "suprise" - both were heard as people jumped up from the floor.

"what the fuck" colby chuckled as he began getting embraced by friends. as he was getting pulled in every corner, by friends who were wishing him a happy birthday, he was looking out for someone in particular.

he was searching for those familiar siren eyes, the ones that would always lure him in, the ones that were hypnotising.

"she isn't here," sam whispered into colby's ear from behind. colby gave him a subtle nod before smiling at the friend who had pulled him in for a hug.

colby went on throughout the night saying his thank you's before moving on to spend time with his close friends.

"cheers to you, brother." sam cheered as he clinked his champagne glass against colby's. colby let out a chuckle before the two swallowed down their champagne. colby had been sipping on his one glass of champagne throughout the night, whereas sam had a few too many glasses of both champagne and vodka. - to put it lightly, sam was hammered. colby had made a mental note to himself, 'to watch over sam, throughout the night'. but when he saw the blonde beginning to climb the kitchen island, he shook his head and let out a sigh before turning to katrina.

"i'm going out for some air. can you try to make sure he's still alive for when i come back in, " katrina lets out a giggle, "will do, " she smiles before turning towards sam's direction.

colby strolled his way towards the front door, slightly pushing past the bodies that filled the kitchen and hallway.

once outside, he took a seat on porch steps. he scanned his surroundings before stuffing his hand in his front pocket, pulling out a white box.

he opened the white box and pulled out a cigarette. he settled the single cigarette in between his index and middle finger. his fingers fiddling with it as he began contemplating whether to light it or not.

"so, you smoke now?"

the familiar voice startles colby, and still his head shoots up, and his eyes fall into those familiar siren eyes.

he jumps up from the ground, brushing his clothes. it was only then he realised that he was still wearing a tracksuit at his own party. he shook the thought out of his head and fixated on the girl who stood in front of him.

her legs were crossed as she stood, her pink dress fitting up to her mid thigh. her hair fallen, settling just above her waist. her arms crossed over her chest, and a purse that losely rested on her shoulder.

without answering her, he stuffs the cigarette back into the box and places it in his pocket. he then reaches his hand out to her, and she takes it instantly. colby quickly acknowledged the warmth and electricity that ran through his body as her hands touched his.

though he pushed the acknowledgement aside and guided her into the house and up the stairs. colby evidently unbothered by the fact that he had just gained a few stares and whispers.

"colby" she breathed out hesitantly as he led her to his room. he shut the door behind her and then made his way to his closet. she watched as he now approached her with an oversized leather jacket.

"it's cold" he says, wrapping his jacket around her arms, letting it drape down. "thanks" she whispers.

the two stood merely a few inches away from each other. colby looking down at her whilst she looked up at colby.

their silence speaking louder than words, colby reached for her hand and intertwined her fingers with his.

"happy birthday, colby." she smiles. colby returned a smile before saying a thank you.

colby watched as she turned her head, scanning the room that she knew all so familiarly.

"it's the same" she let a small giggle as she let her hand fall from colby's. she began walking around the room, her hands following behind her as they traced the wall and any other objects that came in the way.

she stopped at the bedside table, flipping over the picture frame that colby had put down, early hours in the morning.

"you still have this?" she asked rhetorically, though colby still nodded.

"everything is as you left it," colby muttered as he took a seat on the foot of his bed. he was referring to her clothes still being in his closet, her toothbrush still sitting on the bathroom counter, bubbles - the plushie, and the picture frame.

she bit her inner cheek as she put down the picture frame as she had found it - facing down.

she then followed suit to colby and sat on the foot of his bed. but this time colby stood up and walked to the bedside table. he picked the picture frame up and settled it back on the table, propping it up.

"still got bubbles," colby points over to the dinosaur that lay against the head rest. a smile rose on her lips as she turned her head back.

"bubbles!" she giggled, leaning over to grasp the dinosaur. colby watched as she hugged the plushie, breathing in its scent. "it smells like you" she states, making colby chuckle lowly. "it's smells like you," colby counters, shaking his head.

she also shaked her head, setting bubbles beside her as she watched colby approach her. he stood in front of her, reaching down for her hand. he gently pulls her up, her chest now against his whilst their lips are inches away from touching.

her hands flew up to settle around his nape whilst his arms rested around her back.

the two were now breathing heavy, their chest heaving against each other's. "colby" she muttered breathless. "shh" colby whispered as he lowered his forehead against hers.

she brought one of her hands up to cup his jaw, her fingers tracing his jawline. "i'm sorry, colby." she shakes her head as she closes her eyes. "for everything," she stated, opening her eyes.

"i miss you." she moved her hand higher, now cupping his cheek.

"it wasn't your fault" colby finally says. "i know you felt like you had to leave, but you didn't," colbys begins. "but honestly, you never really left" he continues. she raised her eyebrows at colby, "there wasn't a day since you left that i hadn't thought about you. everywhere in this house, in my room, you were always there" colby finishes. he lowers his face down closer to hers.

"colby" she breathed out, colby humming in response. "kiss me" she pleaded, "please" colby plastered a smile across his lips before letting his lips fall onto those familiar plumped ones.

he ran his hand up to the back of her neck for leverage. she let her hands snake to his nape, her fingers playing with that back of colby's hair.

colby was the first to pull away, though his lips remained close to hers. "cherry" he smiled to himself as he ran his thumb along her bottom lip.

a creak was heard from the door, colby's head shot around, staring at the door, which was parted. he saw sam and katrina peeking from the parted door.

"you were being too loud!" katrina whispered to sam but failed as colby heard her. colby shook his head at the couple as they walked into colby's bedroom, guilty expressions on their face.

"hey y/n, long time no see!" sam exclaimed, going in for a hug. she gave him a wave before returning sam's hug.

"are you guys okay?" katrina asks.

colby turns to look at y/n, "never better, right?" colby smiled. she hummed, "everything's perfect." she smiled, leaning up on her tiptoes to place a kiss on colby's lips.

both sam and katrina cheered and squealed from the sight of their best friends finally reuniting.

"do you guys mind?" colby says, pulling away, glaring at sam and katrina. "oh, yeah, sure," they laugh awkwardly before leaving, closing the door behind them.

"colby!" she exclaimed with a giggle, "what!" colby exclaims, "they were creeping me out, they were staring" he raised his eyebrows.

she playfully hit his chest before tiptoeing again, colby lowered his lips on hers.

"this is the best birthday present you could've given me, thank you"

a/n- if you have any requests, please just ask! my requests are open! 🫶🏽

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kurishiri · 6 days ago

Text

Alfons Sylvatica ┊ Your hand please, my lady

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to narrative flow and characterization purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— alfons’ story from victor’s butler collection event; i forgot exactly how many times sent were needed, but it was definitely above 400. i feel the need to say here that honey is sometimes used as a sexual euphemism...

— cw: suggestiveness and semi-public sexual activity. awkwardly translated smut.

[BLACK]

In accordance with the Evil King’s game, Alfons was to be my butler for one day’s time, and——

Alfons: My Lady. ...Lady Kate.

Kate: Mm...

Alfons: Morning has come— it’s time to get up.

A: If you don’t... why, perhaps a kiss may do the trick?

Kate: ...ugh, I’m getting up!!

[KATE’S ROOM]

Getting up noisily from the bed, my eyes met with Alfons’ smiling ones.

Alfons: Good morning to you, Lady Kate.

Kate: Good morning...

(I see, today was the day he was to be my butler... if my memory serves.)

It was unusual to see Alfons up earlier than me, so I couldn’t help but take a long look at him, when...

Alfons: ...My Lady.

All of a sudden, the distance between us closed.

Kate: W-what is it?

(He was saying something like maybe waking me up with a kiss, but...)

(Is he still going to commit to that, even after I’m up?)

He may be a butler for a day, sure, but such a thing was not necessarily beyond Alfons either.

Alfons: Based on your complexion today, I would suggest Western-style clothes. Does that strike your fancy?

With a pleasant smile, Alfons proposed today’s style for me, and I pushed down the question in my mind.

Alfons: Oh, and I will style your hair a bit on the lighter side. Between lavender and rose, which fragrance might you prefer?

Kate: Umm...then I’ll go with lavender.

Upon my answer, Alfons started preparations with brisk motions.

Alfons: Ahh, and while we’re at it, there is one more thing...

Kate: Y-yes!?

Alfons: What would you like for breakfast? Would some scrambled eggs, made with freshly procured ingredients, suit your palette?

Kate: ...Whatever you recommend is fine.

[GAZEBO - TIME SKIP]

Kate: ...Well, this is unexpected.

It was now the afternoon, and we were in Crown castle’s gazebo enjoying tea,

when Alfons tilted his head, the gesture graceful.

Alfons: Well, I’ll be...how should I take such a statement? My Lady.

Kate: I mean, when I was playing a maid [1] for you...

—— Flashback ——

[DINING ROOM]

Alfons: Are you aware of the purpose behind this kind of role play?

A: It’s to free yourself. To forget your ‘true’ self, so to speak, and setting aside both shame and reason...

A: ...and to focus solely on things that feel good.

—— End flashback ——

[GAZEBO]

Kate: But, right now you’re not playing around, and it’s like you are a genuine butler——

Alfons: ——and that you ‘fail to see the part where I’m focusing solely on things that feel good,’ I take it.

Kate: ...That’s right.

Alfons: Well, is that not a good thing then? What has you in such a pickle?

Kate: U-um... it’s not that...

Alfons: ...Ahh, or could it be?

A: Did My Lady Kate perhaps want me, her butler, to do naughty things?

Kate: ...!

Having hit the bull’s eye, my breath hitched, and Alfons giggled in response.

Alfons: Since this morning, you’ve never failed to make an unfulfilled face, no?

A: Goodness gracious, to think such a way toward your ever-so prim and proper butler, it would appear My Lady has been influenced by quite a bad man indeed. (＾▽＾)

Kate: Indeed. ...Said ‘bad man’ is a man named Alfons Sylvatica.

When I gave a name, Alfons shrugged his shoulders in jest.

Alfons: My Lady...if you do wish for such naughty play, then one order from you would be all it takes.

A: After all, I am your very loyal butler...so, by all means, go on?

He made such an invitation, politely waiting upon me, and those immoral, immodest desires were getting drawn out of me.

(But...what would be good?)

Alfons: Were I told to lick your shoes, lick them I will do, yes?

Kate: I-I won’t order that!

Alfons: Well then, where shall I lick?

(I’m not really sure what’s going on, but I guess the ��licking’ part is set in stone...?)

(...If that’s the case...)

I took the honey pot that was sitting on the table,

and scooped up some honey, letting it drip onto the back of my hand.

Kate: ...I’ve gotten it dirty, so please lick it clean.

Alfons: My Lady has bad manners, doesn’t she.

Alfons brought my hand to his lips, getting rid of the golden honey.

Kate: ...!

Even after he licked the honey clean from the back of my hand, he didn’t stop there, his tongue making his way between my closed fingers,

licking and sucking on each of them like a candy bar.

The sensation of his soft tongue, his breath, and the wet sounds that he made at times...everything about it ended up feeling obscene.

Alfons: ngh... Are there any other places that got dirtied?

Kate: Here...too.

I took another scoopful of honey, this time dripping it on my collarbone.

Alfons: Hehe, dripping it on yourself in such a place...quite saucy of you, no?

After licking the honey clean from my collarbone, Alfons unbuttoned my blouse.

Kate: Huh...?

Alfons: The honey has made its way down, you see.

The honey hadn’t made its way so far down, yet his tongue made its way to my chest.

Kate: Ah...I-I’m fine now!

At this rate, I would end up wanting to do something very unbefitting of our surroundings, and in a panic, I pushed Alfons’ chest.

Alfons: You hardly seem ‘fine’ to me, though?

Alfons ignored my resistance, smiling with amusement as he lifted my skirt.

Kate: W-what are you——

Alfons: See...you’re practically bursting with ‘honey’ down here as well, aren’t you.

Bringing his face between his legs...he ate me out with my underwear still on.

Kate: Ahh...! ngh...

He had my knees pushed down, so I couldn’t escape.

With him sucking through the cloth, not touching me directly, a tantalizing pleasure came about.

Alfons: Hehe, how darling you are, My Lady...do allow me to take responsibility and clean you right up, alright?

Fin.

masterlist 🫖 ┊ ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

NOTES:

[1] For those who may be a bit of a newer player (since this was a relatively earlier event), this is referring to a separate event, featuring Kate being a maid! It had Alfons featured as the ECB. It’s already been released in the EN server a while back, but I’m using my own translation in the flashback.

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gyubakeries · 2 months ago

Text

𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | j.ww

a/n: i had a terrible nightmare, but it inspired this lmao. apologies if the plot seems weird, i just went with the flow. hope you like it! (p.s. took me just a week to write this bad boy, but trust, there's more angst on the way! itll take more time bcs im super busy but i promise im gonna deliver angst)

word count: 5k contents: dystopian au , kinda inspired by divergent too , wonwoo x afab!reader , doctor!wonwoo , reader is going to die , a little graphic at the end but for like 2 seconds , flashbacks , forbidden love , HEAVY angst , sad ending

[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]

"756, your three hours begin now," an automated voice booms through the speakers placed in your cell, reverberating through the small metal chamber you've been kept in for as long as you can remember.

the door to your cell slides open, allowing you your last bit of freedom, last few hours of life, before it was all going to be taken away from you.

hyejun, the girl who occupied the cell next to you, comes into view, her eyes already filled with tears. the two of you had become friends of some sort over the last twenty-one years of captivity. although, your friendship wasn't like the ones people wrote about in books or played out in movies.

the Misfits would never have the privilege of a real friendship.

you couldn't tell each other about childhood memories, dreams, goals, or regrets, because the last twenty-one years of your lives had been spent inside the same grey walls. you couldn't go shopping at the mall, or watch movies at the cinema, because you weren't allowed to leave the facility, no matter what.

yet, hyejun was the closest you'd ever have to a friend, which is why it hurt you to see her cry profusely.

"don't cry, you idiot," you laugh, trying your best to keep yourself calm and composed. nothing good ever came out of the both of you crying together. "don't act like you forgot that this would happen some day."

"it hurt less to pretend like it wasn't," hyejun sobs, hugging you tightly. "why did we have to turn out this way?"

you wish you could answer that question.

there wasn't really any research or accurate information on how the Misfits came to be. the only piece of information told to every Misfit child the day they turn three years old is that they didn't have a place in society.

and the next thing you know, you've been shipped off to a facility to spend the rest of your lives as outcasts; as children who were deprived of their life too quickly.

at least once during their twenty-one years in a prison, every Misfit has wondered how this system came to be. who was it that decided what the Misfits were? was there a war? or an uprising? why was it declared that upon turning twenty-four, every Misfit would be executed?

you had resigned to your fate a long time ago. somewhere between the age of five and eight, when you realized that this was your life—living locked up in the facility. it wasn't as restrictive as a prison, as you were allowed to spend time outside your cell for meals, showers, interacting with others, and visiting the in-house library, theater and much more. but you when you learnt that you were strictly denied any permission to leave the place where childhood innocence came to die—you had given up.

you stopped throwing tantrums and crying like all the other children. you stopped wanting to see the outside world again. you stopped trying to live your life. you stopped hoping. you stopped loving.

it was a cruel realization to come to at such a young age, but you never had a choice. your entire life had been decided for you, because of some goddamn reason no one knew, so you gave up on trying to fight the system.

which is why, on the day of your twenty-fourth birthday, when your last three hours on this earth were announced, there wasn't any dread or anxiety filling you. there wasn't any urge to resist and rebel against the oppression you've been subjected to.

you were just another number on the list, the seven hundred and fifty-sixth person to be killed this year.

one of the things you were thankful for was the painless death. back when you were thirteen, an old lady who worked at the facility as a cleaner had given into hyejun's incessant pleas to know how the executions occurred.

the lady had said, "it doesn't hurt at all. first, they inject you with some drug. then, you're taken into an empty white room. they have a machine in there, which i don't know much about, but in merely three minutes, you're gone."

hyejun had ended up in tears after she got to know, but all you could do was laugh to yourself. three years to live a normal life, three hours to spend before you die, and three minutes to completely wipe out your existence, as if you ever really mattered in the grand scheme of things.

ever since you came into the facility, you've seen countless people being escorted upstairs to meet their end. some scream and yell for mercy, some stab a knife into themselves before they die in a way they're not even aware of, and some people, like you, have this empty look in their eyes. they look like lifeless dolls being dragged to their doom, because anything worth living had already been snatched from their hands.

—

"one hour and fifteen minutes," hyejun whispers, looking at the timer on your wrist counting down your last few moments. "y/n, how am i going to live without you?"

"this isn't called life, junnie," you chuckle, the sound hollow and meaningless. "they should've just killed us before we were brought into this prison. this isn't a life worth living."

"how can you say that?" hyejun asks, and you look at her to gauge her expression. hyejun is one of the many people who still haven't accepted that their days are marked. she's one of the many people who hope that there is a second chance at life.

"i can say it because it's the truth," you sigh. "there's no point in grieving the loss of a life you never had."

hyejun falls silent, her expression distraught, and you feel bad for this being your last conversation with the one person you've spent your entire life with.

your heart softens just a little bit for the person who's shared this meaningless life with you, so you move closer to her on the single bed in your cell.

"i'm sorry, i guess i hadn't realized that you haven't accepted this fate like i have," you apologize, wrapping an arm around hyejun's shoulder to comfort her. "don't be too upset after i'm gone, okay? probably not the best source of motivation, but you'll just have two weeks to spend without me before..... you know." you trail off awkwardly.

"i know," hyejun nods, looking up at you. "promise me you'll find me wherever we end up once we're gone?"

"i promise," you smile, and it's probably the most genuine thing you've felt your entire life.

the two of you huddle closer, spending your last hour in silence.

the door to your cell remains open, which is why you aren't startled when two women, dressed in all-white clothing, appear at the door, one holding a glass of water, and the other a pill.

hyejun isn't as calm as you, and tears quickly spring to her eyes when she sees the two officials at the door. "y/n, it can't be-"

"764, please return to your assigned cell," one woman speaks, her tone cold and sterile, devoid of any emotion.

"i- please, just some more time, please," hyejun begs, her hands clinging onto yours, as if bargaining for more time would do anything to delay the consequence you were going to face.

"please return to your assigned cell," the woman repeats. "i will not hesitate to call security."

"junnie, go," you whisper, slowly freeing your hands from her grip. "i'll be fine, you'll be fine."

hyejun shakes her head, sobbing incessantly. "i'll miss you."

"i'll miss you too," you admit truthfully. "i'll wait for you, okay?"

hyejun nods, and after another threatening glare from the officials, she shares one last knowing look with you, and for a moment, you feel thankful for being loved by someone in this life, no matter how short or miserable it was.

hyejun goes back into her own cell, and you let your last ever interaction with her sink in.

"756, please take this pill, and then follow us upstairs," the second woman instructs, and you get off the bed to approach the women.

"happy birthday to me," you scoff to yourself, taking the pill and swallowing it down with the water.

as if some countdown has started, the two officials spring into action. each grab one arm of yours and escort you out of your room. out of the corner of your eye, you can see hyejun by her door, collapsed to the floor on her knees, sobbing and grieving the only real connection she had with anyone in this ruthless world.

you wish you could say the same, but it would be a lie.

because when you finally climb the last step, and the door to your death is opened in front of you, you find yourself looking into the chocolate-brown eyes you had foolishly let yourself fall into.

jeon wonwoo.

—

[ flashback - 28th october, 2022 ]

"i wasn't aware that you were allowed to be outside your cell past 11 p.m.," a deep voice speaks from behind you, and you nearly jump five feet into the air.

you turn to see a tall, bespectacled man standing in the kitchen, a white lab coat hanging off his broad shoulders.

he's a doctor.

"i-i'm so sorry," you gasp, realizing that you're in deep shit now. realistically, you knew that the only way you were going to leave this facility was when you died, but you had no idea what the protocol was for people who snuck out of their cells at midnight, which was against all the rules. "i just really needed some water and i didn't have any left in the cell and-"

but the doctor just smiles at you, his intimidating demeanour replaced by possibly the only smile you'll ever see that is so beautiful.

"it's alright, don't be scared," he assures you, in that rich, warm voice of his. "i'm doctor jeon. you are?"

"y/n," you reply, confused about the whole situation. were doctors supposed to be on a first-name basis with the Misfits? "i'm sorry if this sounds stupid, but are you supposed to be talking to me?"

a flicker of sadness appears in his eyes, and disappears just as quickly. "it's alright for me to talk to you. you do realize i am required to interact with everyone in this facility if they visit the infirmary, right? i'm a doctor, it's kinda my job."

your face burns with embarrassment. "sorry, that was a stupid question."

"no worries, y/n," doctor jeon laughs, seemingly endeared by your mini-meltdown. you had no idea why you were behaving this way. never in your life had you been this embarrassed or flustered around anyone. you've been living in a prison all your life, where showers are taken in communal bathrooms and privacy was a rare luxury. why did this man have to change that?

"i'm going to head back to my cell now," you clear your throat, eyes focused on the water bottle you had just filled for yourself.

"alright," doctor jeon nods. "goodnight, y/n."

you give him a nod in return, stiffly walking past him to tiptoe back to your cell. you catch a glance at his name-tag.

dr. jeon wonwoo.

the name stays on your mind for way longer than it should've.

—

[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]

"have you taken the prescribed pill?" wonwoo asks, his tone formal and cold, as if he's never seen you, never known of your existence.

you know that's far from the truth.

"yes, doctor," you reply promptly, attentively watching as wonwoo goes through a few files on his desk. you see his features harden for a second at the name you addressed him with, a giveaway of how much he hated it when you called him that.

"it'll take a minute for the pill to take effect," wonwoo says. "please head over to the chair."

you wordlessly move over to the black leather armchair in the room, sitting on it as instructed. the situation is built on similar circumstances from the past, but it feels so devastatingly unfamiliar and strange.

you don't know if it's the air-conditioner or the cold look in wonwoo's once-loving eyes that makes you shiver.

—

[ flashback - 24th november, 2022 ]

"i'll walk you to the infirmary," hyejun offers. the morning of your twenty-second birthday, you had woken up with a high fever. your body was so weak, you couldn't even move to get off the bed.

thankfully, despite the prison-like feel, the facility wasn't too restrictive with regards to the cell doors being locked, or neighbouring cellmates interacting, which is why hyejun could come into your cell and take you to the infirmary.

you're barely conscious when you enter. you can hear hyejun's muffled voice talking to the doctor on duty, explaining to them your condition, all while you struggle to stay standing upright.

soon, a familiar pair of glasses swim into your vision, strong arms lift you and place you on one of the beds, and a gentle touch on your forehead lulls you to sleep.

the name-tag catches your attention before your eyes close.

—

"doctor jeon?" you croak out, voice groggy with sleep. the doctor looks up from his desk to see you sitting up in bed, finally awake after being asleep for almost the entire day.

"ah, y/n, you're up," wonwoo smiles at you. "how are you feeling now?"

"the fever seems to be gone," you reply after a moment, feeling much better than earlier in the morning.

"that's good to hear," wonwoo nods. "your friend mentioned that it was your birthday today. happy birthday, y/n."

you sigh. "doctor, i appreciate your gesture, but having a birthday is hardly an occasion that calls for happiness, is it? birthdays are never happy for someone like me."

a similar flicker of sadness flashes in wonwoo's eyes, reminding you of the first encounter in the kitchen a month ago.

"i'm sorry, i should've known-"

"it's alright," you interrupt his apology. "at least the infirmary is a change of scenery. never had a birthday party in here before, doctor." you joke, because somehow, seeing a frown on wonwoo's face felt like it should be a crime for him to be anything but happy.

"call me wonwoo, please," he chuckles. "being called doctor by someone who's the same age feels a little embarrassing."

"we're the same age?" you question, sitting up a little straighter. "next thing you're going to tell me is that we have the same favorite color."

"i like blue," wonwoo says.

"me too!" you gasp, the both of you bursting into laughter instantly.

the infirmary was empty for the rest of the day, and the two of you filled it with laughter and stories. wonwoo gladly took the lead, telling you all about his life up until he was hired to work at the facility six months ago, and you listened eagerly. it felt like you lived life through his stories, and it stirred this dangerous feeling inside you.

you had found something that gave you hope, in a universe where hope never worked in your favor.

—

[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]

"details of subject 756. full name, lee y/n. sex, female. date of birth, 24th november 1999-"

wonwoo's voice reading out all your details, the only pieces of information that gave you any form of self-identity, was getting hard to listen to with no response.

"stop."

"756, not interrupting the procedure would be advised," wonwoo addresses you, not even looking your way, his eyes trained on the file in front of him.

"why are you treating me like you don't know who i am?" you ask him in a quiet voice. "as if we didn't spend almost two years together, in love-"

"756, no interruptions, please." wonwoo grits out, sounding just as hurt as you felt.

"you hated it when i called you doctor, and now you won't even call me by my name?" you scoff, and that seems to rouse a reaction out of wonwoo.

"you are nothing but a number on this long list of people that i have to kill," wonwoo seethes, leaving his desk to come stand in front of you. "this is our reality now, 756. whatever happened in those two years, it was a dream, a fantasy."

"our love wasn't real? the hope you gave me wasn't real?" you challenge, standing up from the armchair. "you promised me, every day, that you'd change this, that i wouldn't have to-"

"then you were stupid for believing me!" wonwoo yells, cutting you off. "you should've known that i was an idiot in love, that i would've promised you anything if it meant i could see you smile. if it meant i could see you live the last few years of your life happily."

—

[ flashback - 1st january, 2023 ]

soon after your twenty-second birthday, you had grown much closer to wonwoo. you'd visit the infirmary for no reason, just to spend hours with him, learning about how the outside world worked. there were afternoons where he'd show you pictures of mountains, oceans, parks, children, and animals that he'd taken. there were evenings where he'd sneak you into his quarters, where he'd read you a book, or turn on a random movie he thought you'd appreciate.

it started feeling less like a friendship, and more like love. the way his eyes would light up when you entered the infirmary to greet him good morning, the way his ears would turn red if any other staff at the facility would get close to figuring out his relationship with you, the way he'd hold your hand or run his fingers through your hair, and the way he'd smile at you, kissing your cheek as a goodnight before going back to his own quarters.

you knew you were foolish for falling in love with wonwoo, especially when you had such limited time to love him properly. so you began to distance yourself from him. you stopped visiting him, avoided his attempts to talk, and tried your best to forget him.

it didn't work.

it only ended up in you being dragged to the infirmary by hyejun, when you woke up on january 1st complaining of a terrible stomach ache.

it was wonwoo who took care of you then.

"you've been avoiding me," wonwoo says quietly, watching you take the medicine he gave you. "did i do something wrong?"

you stay silent, wondering if you should tell him the truth or keep it hidden.

"i've fallen in love with you."

the truth it is then.

wonwoo gapes at you, blinking repeatedly as he tries to process your words. after a minute, he regains his composure and says, "i love you too. now why were you ignoring me?"

he asked you to be his girlfriend three days later, and for the first time since you've entered the facility, your heart starts to long for more time.

—

[ present - 24th november, 2024]

"yeah, i was stupid," you laugh sadly. "i was stupid to believe that you'd actually do something to fight for us."

"and risk both our lives in the process?" wonwoo argues. "if anyone would've found out, we'd both be killed, and not the painless way."

"well, one of us is going to die anyways!" you raise your voice, the tears you've desperately held back finally spilling over. "why did you have to love me? why did you have to make me want to live? do you know how hard it is for your face to be the last thing i see before i die?"

"and you think that this is making me happy?" wonwoo says, anger, love, helplessness, all emotions bleeding into his voice. "i loved you too. heck, i still do, and even after you're gone, i'll-"

"just do it. do whatever you need to do to kill me," you stop him from finishing his sentence. five-year old you had promised to give into your fate no matter what happens. and even though seeing the only man you've loved about to end your life is breaking your heart into a million pieces, you wouldn't be alive for too long to feel that pain.

"no-" wonwoo shakes his head. "i was stupid. i should've done something sooner. i was scared and i'm sorry. i'll get you out."

—

[ flashback - 19th september, 2023 ]

"i'll get you out," wonwoo whispers into your ear. you've just pulled him into a hug before you go back into your cell for the night when the words are muttered into the skin of your neck. "i won't let you die, y/n. not like this."

"won, what are you saying?" you ask, pulling away to face him. "are you nuts?"

"i love you and i can't bear the thought of having to lose you," wonwoo breathes out, his voice sounding strained. "i can't lose you."

"wonwoo, this is the system," you scoff. "i can't not die, it's not possible."

"just trust me," wonwoo shakes his head. "i'll get you out."

you let yourself believe him.

—

[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]

"i'm not letting myself fall for empty promises anymore," your words ring out loud and clear. "just get this over with, doctor."

"y/n-"

"756. that's how you're instructed to address me, doctor," you correct him.

"i can't. i won't do this to you," wonwoo refuses, moving closer to stand in front of you and place his hands on your shoulders. "we can get out, y/n. please, let me try."

—

[ flashback - 19th september, 2024]

"there's no way out," wonwoo mutters, and you feel the hope building in your chest crumble to dust.

"what- what do you mean?" you stammer. "wonwoo, you said you'd find a way-"

"i couldn't," he sighs. "not with management breathing down my neck. they already suspect i'm in close contact with one of the Misfits, and i don't want to give them a reason to make your last few months any worse."

"did you even try?" your voice breaks, your hopes and dreams slowly getting crushed.

"i didn't," wonwoo replies hesitantly. "i'm being monitored, especially after the promotion-"

"promotion?"

"i've been assigned to the room upstairs."

the room upstairs. where every Misfit goes to die.

"you- you never told me about this," your voice is strangled, the weight of wonwoo's words pressing down on your chest like an invisible weight.

"that's because you had no business knowing about it," wonwoo snaps. "look, y/n, from now on, you and i are nothing but strangers. whatever we had between us, it has to end now."

—

[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]

"you ended things. we're strangers now," you remind wonwoo, and the tears finally escape his eyes. "you shouldn't care this much for strangers, doctor."

"y/n, i'm sorry," wonwoo chokes out, tears streaming down his face, and you belatedly realize that you’re crying too. with the back of your hand, you wipe away the unnecessary and immature tears. this was your fate.

“you didn’t try when you said you would, wonwoo,” you lower your gaze, staring at the floor. "there's no happy ending for us now. there never was."

"i know. i was an asshole for promising you something i couldn't give to you, but i know i'm going to spend the rest of my life regretting not helping you now," wonwoo argues. he holds your hands in his.

"please, y/n, give me another chance."

"you know what's funny, wonwoo?" you laugh bitterly, looking up at the man you will love till the moment you die. "at least you have a lifetime you can spend regretting. at least you have a lifetime to start afresh, find someone else, fall in love. i only had you. you were my world, and it hurt so much when you lied to me and showed me dreams i never should've seen."

"i only said all those things because i loved you then, and i love you now as well," wonwoo's voice is shaky now. he knows your time together is nearing to a close, and with every passing second, he dreads the passing of the remainder of his life without you. "i was foolish to promise you freedom, but it was only because i hated that look of hopelessness in your eyes. and you have all the right to blame me, but let me just try-"

"if you're so sure you can get me out now, why didn't you do it earlier?" you cut him off. "why now? right before i have to die?"

you see the look of guilt flash in wonwoo's eyes. your eyes fall to the white lab coat he's wearing, the symbol of the facility embroidered into the fabric, right above where his name-tag sits.

you raise your hand to brush your fingers against the only name you had desperately hoped to call out for the rest of your life.

you realize that while it was your fate was to die, wonwoo's fate was to live. the purpose of your life was to live twenty-four years on this miserable earth and then vanish, while wonwoo's role was to take your life.

no matter how realistic those two years felt, it was impossible for the two of you to be together. you were carrying out your meaningless life, and wonwoo was fulfilling his duty. a duty that never involved loving you or rescuing you.

the bitterness brewing in you for the last couple of months comes to a rest, because you understand.

"i don't blame you," you utter quietly, hands coming up to rest against wonwoo's chest. if you tried really hard, you could delude yourself into thinking that this was just another morning you would spend with wonwoo, in his embrace, living life as if you had the gift of endless time.

"you were scared too, weren't you?"

wonwoo's face crumbles. he leans forward into you, resting his head on your shoulder as his body shakes with the intensity of his cries.

you hold him tight, and you feel sorry for giving him this warmth and comfort right before you left his life forever.

"you should have never loved me," wonwoo sobs. "i thought i was making your last years something you wouldn't hate, but i just-"

"you made my last years the happiest i've ever been," you stop him. "i don't regret loving you wonwoo, not even for a second. and i'm sorry i was angry at you for not helping me get out. i was too blinded by betrayal to realize that it could cost your life too."

"it wouldn't have mattered if you got to live," wonwoo shakes his head.

"it would've, because i wouldn't have you to live my life with," you say softly. wonwoo pulls away from you. his eyes are red and puffy, and your heart aches with the urge to kiss him, one last time.

"i'm sorry," you whisper. "i'm sorry that we ended up this way. god, if i had it any other way, i would've done anything to grow old with you."

"i'm sorry too," wonwoo sniffles. "for not fighting enough for us."

"it can't be helped now," you smile sadly at him. "maybe in another universe, we get to travel the world with each other and do everything we couldn't do in this one."

"it's time to let go, wonwoo," you say, pressing one final kiss against his lips.

wonwoo inhales deeply after you back away from him. he walks back to the desk, takes out a syringe filled with a clear liquid with shaking hands and comes back to face you.

"i'll find you in every other universe, and i'll love you till the end of time," wonwoo looks into your eyes, and this one feels like a real promise.

"i know you will," you hold the wrist of the hand holding the syringe to steady it.

wonwoo presses the needle into the skin of your neck, the place where he had whispered a promise of a better life before, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"it won't hurt at all," wonwoo whispers as an assurance, and his free hand holds yours tightly.

the needle breaks through skin, the liquid is injected, and your last three minutes begin.

you open your eyes, and nothing feels like it's changed, but then wonwoo approaches you with a black eye-mask.

"i don't want you to see what happens," he explains, and you nod to give him permission. he slips the fabric onto your head, and your vision is blocked.

the last thing you see is his name-tag.

you hear the turn of a door knob, the sound of a door creaking open, and wonwoo's last words to you.

"i love you."

you feel gentle hands guide you into the room just opened, a pair of lips pressing a kiss to your temple, the warmth of wonwoo leaving you.

you're alone.

you smell the sterile antiseptic used to clean the room, a vague burning scent, your impending death.

your time is nearly up.

you taste the salt of the last tears you'll ever shed, the sour flavor of tragic love, blood.

it's almost over.

and then, nothing. it's like your senses have stopped working all of a sudden, and you're in a vacuum.

your hands tug off the eye-mask, but you can't see anything either. you realize it's the effect of the injection.

and it's good that you can't see, hear, feel, smell, or taste anymore.

otherwise you'd see the transparent glass wall separating you from a sobbing wonwoo, hand trembling above the red button that brought about your end.

you'd hear the lasers in the room charging up.

you'd feel a scorching heat all over your skin.

you'd smell your flesh burning till you're reduced to ashes, meant to be swept off.

you'd taste the kiss of death.

the timer rings; three minutes are up.

dr. jeon wonwoo ticks 756 off his checklist.

- fin.

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