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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 7 months ago

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Come Find Me | Bucky Barnes x Reader

I am back back back again! I have missed writing so much, I just don't have nearly the amount of time that I used to. But I'm in my last semester of school! So hopefully I'll be back on a consistent fanfic grind once I'm done :) PS: If you know what the title is referencing, you get a big hug from me.

Word Count: 13,439

Warnings: blood, talk of violence, reader injury

Bucky checked his texts every few minutes. Initially, he lied to himself about the reason behind it. He told himself he must’ve opened his conversation with you accidentally, or that he mistook an email notification for a text from you. Simple, innocent mistakes.

Either way, he always ended up staring at your side of the conversation, hoping for a gray ellipsis to appear.

But after a while, he could no longer deny the truth- and why would he want to? You were coming home.

You hadn’t been gone long, and your mission was projected to be a cake walk. But he couldn’t help it; he missed you. He missed you when you went on missions, when you visited your parents out of state, when you slept in your room down the hall. Missing you was part of him now, woven into the fabric of his being. It matched the material of his soul perfectly, like he was always meant to feel this way.

He fired off a quick “let me know when you land” message and waited, hoping you’d write back soon.

Usually, you texted him when you were headed back to the compound. It gave him a countdown to your return and something to look forward to. It also signaled to him that you were, in fact, coming home alive. Even if a bit banged up, you were well enough to shoot him a message. And that always eased his worries.

Today, however, was different. No text, no call.

It struck him as bizarre and sounded Bucky’s internal alarms. But he silenced them as best he could. He wasn’t going to let himself get worked up, not when you had a perfectly good reason for not messaging him.

This was your first time leading a mission with a new recruit under your wing. Bucky knew you devoted your full attention to your trainee, giving him absolutely everything you had. You took this position- as well as your pupil’s safety and success- very seriously. He knew you were probably busy helping your recruit learn a swath of new things, and who was he to interrupt?

Bucky opened the log and saw your jet had been marked as ‘incoming’ only minutes ago. A sigh of relief left his chest and eased his muscles. Sure, he would’ve rather heard that information from you, but it didn’t matter. Your jet would be here soon; he had no reason to worry.

The moment he saw that your jet was homeward bound, he lost the ability to think about anything else. He counted the minutes, the seconds. You had to be close, right? The log wouldn’t have said ‘Incoming’ if you were still hours away.

To pass the time, he folded laundry, answered emails, reread a few chapters of The Hobbit- but he couldn’t focus. He thought of you, only you. And no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, he couldn’t hang around his room any longer. He couldn’t stand it. He needed to be there when the jet landed. He needed to meet you on the steps of the aircraft and wrap you in a bear hug.

And there was no real harm in waiting near the hangar, was there? ‘If anything,’ he told himself, ‘It’s actually more convenient for her if I meet her there. That way, I can carry her bag- she’s probably tired.’

Anything to rationalize his desperate need to be near you.

He knew in his heart of hearts that you didn’t need him to carry your bag or help you off the jet. But this lie was all the convincing he needed. Without hesitation, he ditched his room and set off down the hall, your impending homecoming pulling him forward.

It was in that moment he noticed just how far the elevator was from his room. The walk seemed to stretch on and on, the hallway growing longer with each step. And how had he never noticed how slowly the elevator moved? It slid downward at a glacial pace, toying with his patience. For such an expensive, state of the art building, the elevator moved like an ancient piece of turn of the century machinery. Bucky cursed Tony’s engineering.

Everything seemed to add time, multiplying his moments without you. The universe liked toying with him, teasing him. And this was just another cruel joke.

The moment the doors opened, Bucky sprang free out into the hallway. He knocked into Clint and his group of trainees and called an apology over his shoulder without stopping. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t waste time- not when you could arrive at any moment.

His field of view narrowed into tunnel vision, only allowing for visualization of the path toward the hangar. He didn’t greet his fellow team members or allow for distraction. You were his one-track mind. That is, until something stopped him.

“Shit, sorry, man,” your trainee, Jake, laughed as he bumped into Bucky. He took a step to the side and attempted to continue down the hall, but Bucky blocked his path.

“Jake?” Bucky eyed a bloody gash on Jake’s eyebrow, “when did you guys get back?”

Jake gave a casual shrug and checked his phone, “I don’t know, five minutes ago?”

“Oh, okay…” Bucky reached for his phone, but found his screen void of notifications. If you landed five minutes ago with your trainee safe and sound, why didn’t you send him a message? It was out of character for you.

“Well, where’s your partner in crime? Or crime fighting, I guess,” Bucky tried to joke, but his tone was strained. He eyed each person who came around the corner, hoping to find your face. “Did you see which way she went?”

“Nah, she’s not here,” Jake was scrolling through Instagram, only half paying attention.

Bucky’s disappointed sigh left his chest deflated, empty. “Oh, did she say where she was going? Or when she’d be back?”

Jake pulled his focus from his phone and stared at Bucky with confusion on his face. His brows pulled together, his mouth hung slightly ajar. But finally, he made sense of Bucky’s words. “OHHH, okay, my bad- I think there was a miscommunication just now.”

Bucky sighed again- this time, with relief.

“Yeah, no, she’s not here,” Jake continued, “because she didn’t make it back.”

Bucky’s ears started ringing.

The sharp, piercing sound blocked out voices. Footsteps on the tile. Maybe Jake was trying to speak to him, but Bucky heard only the shrill sound of shock. Seconds later, his nerves fell numb. The utter absence of sensation disconnected him from his body. He was lost in a liminal atmosphere with no stability, no purchase. His entire being was shutting down, one sense at a time.

Bucky told himself to focus, to compute what he’d heard. He did his best to make sense of Jake’s words, but to no avail. His mind simply couldn’t understand the phrase “she didn’t make it back”. The words had shed their meaning entirely and sounded foreign to Bucky as they rattled around his skull. Goosebumps rose over the surface of his skin, and a cold sweat created a sheen across his face. He feared he might get sick.

“I- I’m sorry,” he forced himself back into his body, back to the present. “I don’t think I understand.”

“Things got pretty hairy- this was not the easy mission they said it would be,” Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not fair, I definitely got a way harder assignment for my first mission than all the other new agents, and I think it’s-”

Bucky’s glare could’ve sliced Jake in half, “get to the point.”

“Right, um,” Jake continued, “I told her over comms that I was leaving. I gave her plenty of time to meet me at the jet, but she didn’t answer. And she never came outside.” He shrugged, “I had to leave for my own safety.”

“So, you just-” Bucky felt himself losing his grip. “You left her there? Alone?” He didn’t realize he was shouting, didn’t realize he’d drawn attention to himself- until Agent Hill showed up.

She placed a light hand on Bucky’s tense shoulder, but instantly withdrew. He was shaking, practically vibrating under her palm. “Is there a problem here, guys? I don’t want-”

“He left her behind,” was all Bucky could manage.

Maria stared at Jake in disbelief, “you did what?”

A strange mixture of rage and heartbreak seethed behind Bucky’s eyes, “You don’t just abandon your partner-”

Jake’s attitude disgusted Bucky. He was detached, irritated. He rolled his eyes like an insolent child. “Relax, man. Jesus Christ, this isn’t the army. I didn’t promise to ‘leave no man behind’ or whatever-”

Bucky had heard enough. He lifted jake by the collar of his shirt, twisting the material in his metal fist. Jake’s head sent a sickening thud resounding through the space as Bucky forced him against the nearest wall.

“What the fuck?” Jake squirmed in Bucky’s grasp, “There are casualties in the field all the time, why am I being punished for-”

Bucky released Jake at once, sending him crashing to the floor.

His voice was quiet, hollow. “Casualties?” He swallowed hard, “Is she-”

Jake shrugged at he rubbed at the bruise forming on his neck. “I don’t know, I assume so. I didn’t stick around to find out.”

And just like that, Bucky was gone.

He took off down the hall, forcing himself forward as a soul-crushing panic swallowed him whole. No matter how many times he blinked, no matter how fervently he shook his head, he couldn’t rid his mind of the picture Jake painted for him. Each time he shut his eyes he saw you- alone. Your bloodied, broken body laying collapsed against a wall of a Hydra base. Your skin slick with blood. Your skin cold. Void of life.

He moved quickly, but not quick enough. He simply couldn’t outrun the familiar feeling closing in on him. His heavy, well-worn cloak of grief wound its way across his shoulders and twisted itself around his neck. He knew the suffocating sensation all too well. It weighed him down but couldn’t dampen his pace, nothing could; not when your life hung in the balance.

He was too well acquainted with loss by now, too familiar with mourning. There’d been a time when he wondered if he’d ever grieve again. He’d lost his family, his friends, himself- what else was there? What more could he possibly lose? But the moment he met you, he knew he’d one day mourn again. He just didn’t realize that time would come so soon.

A startling cold prickled at his skin, his lungs refused to inflate. How much time did you have left? How long would it take him to get to you? Were you even-

Hill’s voice yanked him out of his spiral, “Barnes, hey-” She made a grab at his shoulder, but her feeble attempt was no match for Bucky’s pace. “Where are you going?”

“To get her back.” Bucky’s tone was firm, resolute. He was going to bring you home or die trying.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hill nearly tripped over her own feet as she tried to keep up with Bucky’s long strides. “You heard what Jake said, it’s a dangerous location- more dangerous than we thought. I think it might be best to wait it out for a few days, let things calm down and then-”

Bucky turned suddenly, stopping Maria in her tracks. “I’m not just going to leave her there.”

Maria shrunk away from the fierceness in his eyes, “I know you’re upset, but she might not be-”

“I don’t care.” His gruff tone dissolved, making way for the fear he’d so desperately tried to hide. “Whether she’s alive or-” he couldn’t bring himself to voice the alternative.

Bucky knew what it was like to be assumed dead. He knew what it was like to be left in the field.

“She deserves to come home,” he said.

Maria couldn’t argue with him.

“Round up as many members of the med team as you can and have them meet me in the hangar. We’re leaving in ten minutes- sooner if we can.” Bucky turned and resumed his previous path, “I’ll be in the armory.”

Bucky grabbed as much weaponry as his duffel would carry without splitting at the seams and made his way to the hangar. He hoped to find ten, maybe fifteen members of the medical team waiting for him on the jet. He wasn’t sure of your condition, didn’t know how many breaths you had left. He wanted to give you the best possible chance at surviving the onslaught you endured.

But when he turned the corner into the hangar, he found only three scrub-clad bodies.

“Is this it?” Bucky boarded the jet and dropped his bag to the floor. He eyed the scant amount of medical support, their uncertain expressions. His hopes of bringing you home alive dwindled.

A nurse who’d stitched Bucky up more times than he could count gave him a nervous smile. “The med bay is swamped, the team could barely afford to let us come with you.”

Bucky didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want excuses or rationalizations. All he wanted was to bring you home with your heart still beating. And three medical professionals, he decided, was better than none.

The flight to your location only gave Bucky more time to worry. He obsessively checked his weaponry, hovered over the med team’s supplies. But no amount of double and triple checking could save him from the spiral. He traveled down the path of every possible “what if?”, leading him only to heartache. No matter where he searched, he couldn’t find a positive outcome. And though he didn’t want to acknowledge the odds, he knew yours were slim- impossible, even.

And as the jet grew closer to your location, Bucky steeled himself for what he knew he’d find: you, his best friend, his reason for living, his everything- dead. Cold. Lifeless. None of the horrors he faced in the past could compare; no pain could ever be greater. Bucky knew he’d hurt for the rest of his life.

The clouds parted as the jet began its descent. Slowly, a large stone building appeared out of the fog like a monster in the horror movies you loved so much. It stood in an otherwise empty clearing, its shadow looming over the dying grass. Smoke billowed from holes in the roof, the walls. Whatever happened here was catastrophic. Disastrous.

Bucky’s heart sat lodged in his throat as he imagined you trapped in there. Goosebumps rose over the surface of his skin as he stared at the looming structure. He had to get you out, even if he died trying.

Just before the jet touched down, an idea popped into Bucky’s head. It scaled the high walls he’d tried to erect to protect himself from thoughts of your demise and grabbed him by the throat. It was smart- brilliant, actually. He was shocked he could even think straight given the circumstances.

“FRIDAY,” Bucky called out, “is comm 1209 working?” He shoved his own comm in his ear and waited for a response.

“Comm 1209 is on and in range,” Friday said. “Would you like me to connect you?”

He couldn’t say yes fast enough.

A few staticky clicks and pops vibrated against Bucky’s eardrum as his comm connected to yours. But he was too scared to speak. What if you didn’t answer? What if he heard you take your dying breaths? Just the thought was enough to make him sick.

He owed it to you, though, to at least try. He’d always said he’d do anything for you, that he’d risk it all for you- and he meant it every time. If reaching out to you over comms exposed him to something horrible, something traumatic and unforgettable, at least he tried. At least he attempted to keep his promise. And after everything he’d been through, what was one more life-shattering, soul-crushing nightmare?

“H- um…” Bucky swallowed the large lump obstructing his throat. “Hello?” He waited a moment, holding his breath the entire time, and tried again. “Hello?”

He waited.

No response.

“Doll? It’s me. It’s Bucky…”

The dead silence on the other end of the line dragged on. It seemed like his words disappeared into the air, unacknowledged. Unheard. Maybe the sound of his voice was reverberating inside your ear as you lay dying. Or maybe he was talking to your corpse.

The thought made him nauseous.

“Please, sweetheart. If you’re there- if you’re able- just say one word. Say anything,” he pled. A long bout of silence followed.

He clenched and released his metal fist again and again, desperate to rid himself of the panic settling into his bones. He was stupid to think you survived, stupid to let himself be optimistic. He made it here as quickly as he could, but he couldn’t save you. He was too late.

He wanted to take one of his many weapons and turn it on himself.

But a small sound stopped him.

“Buck…”

He almost fell to his knees. At the sound of your voice, an overwhelming warmth banished the cold that infiltrated his bones. Against all odds, you were alive.

A deep sigh of relief seeped from Bucky’s lungs, “Sweetheart…”

A hurricane of emotion rattled against the storm doors inside Bucky’s mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about the ‘almosts’. How he almost lost you, how you almost died alone in a Hydra base. But he couldn’t allow it to swallow him- not yet. There was no time for a breakdown. He needed to move, he needed to get to you.

He shrugged off the grief that rested heavy on his shoulders and swallowed the impending sob that vibrated inside his throat. “I’m here- I’m gonna come get you. Just tell me where-”

A staunch refusal came from your end of the comm, “No- no…” You took a sharp, rattling breath, “no way.”

Bucky didn’t like the way you had to fight to get your words out. You were clearly struggling, doing everything in your power to stay on this side of consciousness. He wondered how much time you had left.

But still, there was a familiar strength to your voice. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the renewed hope of rescue; something was keeping you alive.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, just tell me where you are. The jet just landed. I’m gonna get you out and-”

“I said- I said no,” you breathed. “You can’t c-come in here, it’s too dangerous… we were a-ambushed.”

Even in your condition, even when Bucky was your only hope of rescue, his safety was your first thought. You’d rather die alone than put Bucky’s life at risk; the thought made his cheeks pink and filled his chest with a fuzzy warmth. But he didn’t have time to enjoy the feeling.

“If you don’t tell me where you are, I’ll just sweep the whole building,” Bucky said, using your worry against you. “That means more opportunities for me to run into Hydra operatives. More time inside the base- it’ll be way more dangerous.” He could practically see you rolling your eyes, “so it’s probably better if you just give me a direct route, don’t you think?”

Bucky smiled to himself as he envisioned you on the other end. He was certain you were arguing with yourself, cursing his rationale.

He waited for you to come at him with a sharp retort or a sarcastic quip but heard nothing. The silence on your end of the line dragged on. And on. It lasted far too long for Bucky’s comfort. Surely, you couldn’t still be thinking about his proposition? He’d given you more than enough time to make up your mind, more than enough time to come up with a response. It was time you didn’t have.

What if you’d fallen unconscious? What if, in those quiet moments, your soul vacated this earth?

Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. He disembarked the jet, resolving to search every inch of the base. But just as he reached the dark, unsettling building, you spoke.

“F-fifteenth floor. Northeast… northeast quadrant,” you sighed, defeated. “There’s a- a room at the end of this hall, I think it’s maybe an office?” Again, you took a long pause. The energy required to think, to speak, was energy you didn’t have. “Just f-follow the trail of blood.”

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. He shuddered at the thought of your blood leaving a path down the stark white, sterile hallways of the base. But he didn’t have time to focus on anything other than getting you out; this was a rescue. He owed it to you to keep his head level. To focus on getting you out as quickly as he could.

“The power is… it’s out”, you said. “You’re gonna h-have to take-”

Bucky wanted to save you from wasting any extra energy, “The stairs. Got it.”

And while he normally didn’t mind getting a few extra steps in, he knew the time required to climb fifteen flights of stairs would push the limits of your survival.

But he pushed the ever-encroaching sense of doom to the side and put on a brave face for you. For himself. “Okay, I’m coming to get you,” he promised. “Stay awake, and don’t move.”

“As if I h-have a choice,” you laughed a breathy, hollow laugh. A long groan followed.

Your pain radiated through Bucky’s chest. He didn’t want to climb stairs or scour hallways- he just wanted to be there. To instantly materialize at your side. To bring you instantaneous comfort. He lamented the super soldier serum’s lack of teleportation abilities.

“You know what I mean, doll. Just stay awake, okay?” Bucky drew his gun and stepped inside the building. “Don’t fall asleep. Do anything you have to do- just stay awake. Can you keep talking until I get there?”

“W-what am I…” You let out a raspy exhale, “supposed to talk about?”

Bucky cleared a long hallway and found the stairwell, “Anything, just keep talking.”

Another extended silence filled the air; it nearly drove Bucky crazy. Your silences held limitless possibilities, horrifying ‘what ifs’.

“It w-wasn’t supposed to be… to be like this,” you finally said. “It wasn’t supposed to be this dangerous. This was Jake’s first mission- it wasn’t f-fair to him.” Heartache coated your every word. Even after your partner abandoned you, even after Jake forced you to suffer and bleed all alone- you still sympathized with him. Still felt sorry for him.

Bucky felt no such thing.

“I know, doll. Keep talking, okay?”

You sighed. “We s-split up for recon… that’s when they- when they came at me.” Your next few breaths were so shallow, your lungs barely inflated; the lack of oxygen left you dizzy. A thin veil of glittering spots sparkled and danced on the edges of your periphery. “It all h-happened so fast… there were so many of them. I just- I remember pain. And I hoped Jake was okay, w-wherever he was.”

Your heart was too good for this job. For people like Jake. Bucky admired your kindness, your empathy, your selfless nature. Even in the face of pain, of death- you thought about others. You often told Bucky how unfair life had been to him, lamenting his treatment at the hands of fate. Bucky found himself doing the same for you and your kind heart.

“I called out for h-him, I needed backup… I kept asking him to come help me-” A sharp cough rattled out of your throat.

Bucky cringed at the sound. It was the only sound in the building. He hadn’t heard anyone else. Hadn’t seen one Hydra operative- at least, not a live one. He came across their bodies every now and again but didn’t see a single living soul. He was sure they deserted after the explosion. Just like Jake.

The destruction, however, was everywhere. Bullet casings littered the floor. Blood stained the tile floors. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. He had to get you out of here.

“But he n-never answered. And then he told me he was leaving. He said he was- he was outside already. He gave me n-ninety seconds to meet him at the jet…” Your words were tinged with devastation, with hopelessness, with betrayal. “I tried- I did my best to make it down the stairs. But I was- I was dizzy… I was b-bleeding.” The memory stung like your fresh wounds. “I kept slipping on- on my own blood. I just c-couldn’t move fast enough. It hurt too much.”

Wrath burned inside Bucky like a raging forest fire. But his utter heartbreak doused it completely, extinguishing the rageful flames. He found himself unable to think, to breathe. It took everything in him to keep moving forward. Who could ever leave you behind like that? Who could ignore your suffering and sentence you to death without a second thought? The image of you stumbling, struggling to run for your life gutted him.

“And then- and then I heard the jet t-take off,” you sighed. “And I listened as it got farther and farther away… until it was g-gone. And I was- I was alone.”

He thought of you sitting alone in cold silence as the noise from the jet quieted. As your hope dwindled. The entire base must’ve felt like a tomb, like a massive, lonely grave meant just for you.

Bucky almost fell to his knees. Sobs throttled the inside of his chest, begging for release. Tears burned inside his lash line. Jake didn’t just leave you behind, he marooned you without care. And in his departure, he sealed your fate.

“I d-didn’t have a way to call for… for help. My phone was on the j-jet with jake.”

The sorrow that stained your words was all too familiar to Bucky. It was the same hopelessness that accompanied him every day that he was at Hydra. When he laid in the snow for hours upon hours after falling from the train. He never wished that kind of despondency, that kind of misery on anyone. And knowing that you, the person who deserved it the least, experienced it for even a moment shattered him.

“I realized I… I didn’t h-have any options,” you breathed.

A collapsed column blocked Bucky’s path as he tried to make his way from the sixth floor to the seventh. The concrete was too high, too precarious to scale. If he tried to climb it and got hurt, it would only serve to diminish your chances of survival. And he wasn’t willing to risk that. With a huff, Bucky exited the northwest stairwell in search of another route. This was a waste of time- time you didn’t have.

He painstakingly checked every hall until he finally found another stairwell. His breathing came a little easier as he rocketed his way up the stairs, growing ever closer to you.

“So, I found this- this room. It’s quiet. It’s out of the w-way. I needed somewhere to hide. S-somewhere to…” A small crack of emotion cut through your voice, “somewhere to die.”

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Jake got to return home safe and sound while you struggled to stay alive. It wasn’t fair that you had to seek out your own deathbed. Bucky wanted to scream, to break things, to spill every last drop of Jake’s blood. But he was a soldier, and this was a rescue mission.

“This seemed like as g-good a place as any,” you choked on a weak laugh. “Beats dying in the middle of a h-hallway, I guess.”

Bucky’s automatic response was to swear that you’d make it out. To promise that you weren’t going to die. But he bit his tongue. He couldn’t make those kinds of assurances. He’d do anything to bring you comfort but swearing that you’d return home alive seemed almost cruel.

He pushed himself to move faster. He couldn’t let you die alone, especially not in this godforsaken place. As he sprinted up the last flight of stairs and ripped open the door to the fifteenth floor, he struggled to orient himself. You were in the northeast quadrant, but where was he? He searched for anything to indicate his location- but found no signage. No directory.

Everything inside of him rattled with dread, with anxiety. Any moment now, you were going to die. You were going to take your last breath. All alone. A thick, suffocating wave of panic crashed over Bucky as he realized- you were going to die disappointed. You were going to leave this world knowing that he hadn’t gotten to you in time.

It was then that he noticed a faded arrow painted on the wall, with “NEQ” painted below it in block letters. Northeast quadrant. He was closer than he thought.

“I’m gonna be there in just a second, doll,” he said as he followed the arrows. “I think I’m right around the corner.”

This was just his way of making you feel better, you were sure of it. The hallways were long and winding. Each floor was a maze of its own. Even with your vague instructions, it could take him a while to find you. Still, Bucky’s words brought you comfort in the way that only he could.

“I know, I t-trust…” A metallic taste filled your mouth. A warm ooze trickled down your chin and dripped onto your chest. The warm, fuzzy feeling brought on by Bucky’s assurances faded. Of course, you knew you were in bad shape. But as blood leaked from your mouth, you wondered if these were your last moments.

Instantly, you searched for the words to say goodbye to Bucky. Time was slipping through your fingers, life draining from your body with each passing second. But before you drifted off into a never-ending sleep, you had to tell Bucky what he meant to you. You’d use all your strength, your last few breaths- whatever it took. He just had to know.

But how does one say goodbye to a soulmate? You didn’t have the energy or capacity to make a grandiose speech. And the blood filling your mouth impeded your ability to speak. You wanted to tell bucky everything- how he comforted you, cared for you, made your life worth living. How your life revolved around him as though he were your personal sun. But nothing quite encapsulated the things you felt for him. Every word in the English language, every sonnet fell short. And the lack of oxygen getting to your brain sabotaged your phrasing.

“Buck, I think it’s… I think it’s almost t-time,” you rasped.

But just as you opened your blood-stained mouth to proclaim every feeling you ever had for him, the door flew open. Alarm coursed through your veins at the threat. Surely, a Hydra agent had stumbled upon your hiding place and was here to finish you off. The severe blood loss was no match for your training, thought. And, on instinct, you pulled your gun on the tall, dark silhouette standing in the doorway.

“Woah, hey!” Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “It’s me, it’s just me.”

At the sound of his voice, your arm fell limp. Your gun clattered to the floor. Your head lolled back against the wall. It had taken everything in you to try and protect yourself one last time. And now that your energy reserves were nearly depleted, you allowed your eyes to close.

“S-sorry…” A barely-there smile pulled at your lips. “My… my bad, Buck.”

“No, don’t be sorry, doll.”

Bucky knelt in front of you, taking in your broken, bloodied body. He’d seen carnage before, witnessed more death than anyone should. But this, you- it was different. It hurt in places he didn’t know he had. But he didn’t let it show. Knowing you, you’d spend your last few moments comforting him, trying to make him feel better. And so, he forced a warm smile and tabled his breakdown for the moment.

“I’m actually impressed. I mean, you might be hurt, but you were ready to take me out just now,” he forced a chuckle. “That’s my girl.” His cool metallic hand brushed against your blood-stained cheek.

And in that moment, something within you changed. Your eyes shot open. You blinked a few times before forcing your eyes shut once again. You gave your head a few good shakes. Surely, this wasn’t real- it couldn’t be.

You opened your eyes wide once again, taking him in. “Bucky?”

With one shaking hand, you reached for him in the most pathetic attempt he’d ever seen. You were weak, dangerously so; it scared him to his core. But you were alive.

He leaned in, meeting you in the middle, and let you stroke at his stubble for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he kissed your palm. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“You’re…” you other hand reached for him, but made it only a centimeter or two before falling into your lap. Bucky opted to take it in his. “You’re here?”

He nodded, “I could never leave you behind, sweetheart.”

He may have continued speaking after that, but you didn’t quite hear him. The emotion you’d tried so hard to swallow came bursting forward, crushing your every attempt at remaining levelheaded. Your fingers smoothed over Bucky’s cheek again and again. His name fell from your lips in what resembled a prayer. Tears rolled down your cheeks and mixed with the blood crusting over your skin.

A soft, warm wave of peace rolled in, covering you like a well-loved quilt. The pain disappeared; the sorrow evaporated. All that remained was Bucky. This was the warm spring that followed a dark, bitter winter. The first rays of sun after a vicious storm. The first taste of home after a long time away. You let the familiar warmth of Bucky’s presence drown out the rest of the world until only you two remained.

“Sweetheart, did you hear me?” With a gentle squeeze of your hand, Bucky called you back to the present. “I need to look at your wound, okay?”

A sharp rush of pain nearly blinded you as you lifted your shirt, exposing the bloody mess. But even as Bucky appraised the gunshot wound that turned your abdomen into horror scene, you couldn’t find it in you to worry. Your hands lazily found his shoulder, his chest, his face; you just wanted to touch him. To know, without a doubt, that he was there. That he was real.

“Hey, we… we need to t-talk,” you whispered as Bucky did his best to quickly bandage your wound for transport. “I n-need to talk- to talk to you…”

Bucky nodded, “sure thing, doll. Absolutely. We can talk about whatever you want. But right now…” he returned your shirt to its rightful position and met your gaze. “Right now, I need to get you out to the jet, okay? We can talk later.”

He guided your arms around his neck, lifted you into his arms, and moved as fast as he could through the winding hallways. His quick gait set your nerves alight with pain. Every bump, every jostle had you gasping for breath. And though it was a necessary evil, the guilt still sat in Bucky’s stomach like a rock. His repeated ‘I’m sorrys’ were nearly constant, doubling with your every grimace and groan. But he couldn’t slow down, couldn’t let the time slip away; you didn’t have much left.

Between pained sounds and twisted expressions of discomfort, you said the same thing on a loop. Again and again and again, you pled with him, using energy you didn’t have.

“We need to… to t-talk.”

“I h-have to tell you.”

“Can I talk to y-you about- about something?”

And though Bucky would’ve loved nothing more than to have a long heart to heart with you as you two often did, you weren’t strong enough. He couldn’t let you waste your finite energy on a conversation with him. And so, he responded to each of your requests with an ask of his own, begging you to save your strength. He promised that the two of you could talk tomorrow, that there was plenty of time for a conversation later.

But ‘plenty of time’ almost seemed like an empty promise. And ‘tomorrow’ felt like a lie. Would you have a ‘later’? He didn’t know. But he didn’t want you wasting your oxygen, not when he feared it might be your last breath.

Boarding the jet with you alive in his arms almost felt like a win to Bucky. Almost. Sure, he’d gotten you out with your heart still beating, but your condition worsened by the second. And the grave looks the med team wore as Bucky gently rested you on the treatment table dug a deep pit in his stomach.

They sprang into action, placing IVs and delivering medications. Scissors glided through your shirt and exposed your broken body to the med team. Bucky knew they’d seen their share of gnarly injuries over the years, but he swore that they recoiled at the sight of your wounds.

With a shake of his head, Bucky refocused. He had to get you out of there- to get you home. He headed for the controls and planned to set the jet in motion. But he made it only a step toward the cockpit before a hand caught his.

“S-stay…” you whispered. “Please.”

His heart shattered. “I’m not leaving you, doll, I promise. I just have to get us in the air, okay?” With great care, he placed a kiss to your hand and set it at your side. “I’ll be back in just a minute.”

Bucky’s body operated on muscle memory alone as he initiated take off. His mind was occupied, completely and totally, by the sound of your weak voice begging him not to leave. The sound played on a loop inside his brain, cutting him deeper each time. You’d already been abandoned once today; he was certain you feared it would happen again.

With a deep breath and a quick reset, Bucky did what he had to do. He needed to be on his A-game for you, needed to be his very best. Only a few hours ago, you’d trusted someone with your life, and they failed you. Bucky wasn’t about to do the same. He worked carefully to chart the fastest route back to the compound, opting to forego FRIDAY’s proposed path. It kept him from your side longer than he would’ve liked, but less time in the air seemed like the best option. The sooner he could get you to the med bay, with its massive, brilliant medical staff and unlimited resources, the better.

Just as he finalized the flight plan and asked FRIDAY to notify the med bay of your impending arrival, an unsettling sound pulled his focus. It was an ominous beeping, alarming your care team of a sudden, life-threatening change.

Gloved hands moved at lightning speed; voices yelled medical jargon back and forth. And you laid there on the table. No heartbeat. No respirations. Deathly still.

Bucky stood on the periphery, too horrified to get any closer.

He thought it best, of course, to stay out the med team’s way. But knew deep down it was an excuse. He was simply too terrified to lose you. If he got closer, if he saw you struggling to stay alive, all of this would suddenly become real. And he couldn’t handle that.

“Barnes!” A nurse screamed at him, “did you hear me?”

Bucky forced himself back to the present. “No… I, um-”

“She has no pulse- get over here, we need you to do compressions!”

Bucky’s desperate need to help you, to save you, overpowered his fear. And in an instant, he was at your side. He loomed over you, his hands locked together, preparing to help resuscitate you. But once again, his fear reared its ugly head. You were already so badly injured, so weak. And he was far too strong. What if he made your condition worse? What if he-

“Come on!” The nurse yelled at him, “start compressions- now!”

He did as he was told. He pressed into your body with a measured pressure, careful not to crush your chest. But his cautious compressions didn’t cut it. The nurses instructed him to push harder. To “actually compress” your chest- and Bucky followed instructions.

But as he did so, a sickly snapping sound exploded from your body. Bucky recoiled instantly; his face contorted in horror.

“What are you doing? Keep going!”

“I can’t- I think I broke her ribs,” Bucky shouted at the doctor. “What do I do?”

“Keep going!” The nurse yelled, “It happens- just keep going.”

Bucky broke out into a cold sweat. His stomach turned at the thought of hurting you, of causing you even more pain; you’d been through enough as it was. But he did as he was told. With each round of compressions, he swore he created new fractures. He felt every splinter, every crack as he put pressure on your chest.

He wanted to sever every last nerve-ending in his hand; anything to rid him of the sickening sensation creeping through his palm. But if doing this saved you, it was worth the nightmares.

He watched as the two nurses provided your supplemental breaths and tended to your endlessly bleeding wound. The doctor called ‘clear’ every so often, shocking you with a defibrillator in an attempt to restore your heartbeat.

Round after round of compressions, breathing, and shocks passed by without signs of improvement. You remained lifeless, unresponsive. A syringe of epinephrine delivered straight to your chest did nothing. And Bucky felt what little hope he had slipping through the cracks in your ribs. He couldn’t believe he was about to lose you; couldn’t believe he’d have to watch you die. Hot tears blurred his vision and streaked down his cheeks. His legs went numb. At any second, he knew his knees would give out, knew he’d crumble to the floor under the crushing weight of grief.

The doctor deemed the next shock your last, and Bucky almost doubled over.

“Come on, doll, just-” He swallowed a sob, “just stay. Stay. Do it for me, I’m begging you. Please?”

The doctor called one last “clear” and delivered your final shock, only to be met with the rhythmic beeping of your heart monitor.

“Sinus rhythm restored,” announced the nurse to Bucky’s left. She appraised the waves on your EKG and gave a nod. “She’s stable.”

After what felt like an eternity, Bucky took a breath. He stretched his tense fingers and did his best to relax the rock-hard knots forming in his shoulders. A new crop of hope bloomed cautiously inside his chest, but he couldn’t allow it to blossom and flourish just yet. You weren’t out of the woods; there was a very real possibility that your heart might stop again. And he wasn’t sure how many times the doctor could revive you before throwing in the towel.

Less than a minute after Bucky’s cautious optimism sprouted anew, a soul crushing sight dashed it completely. A sharp gasp filled his lungs, a shudder rocked his frame. Shades of deep, dark blue bloomed under the skin of your chest. Black and purple splotches stained your sternum. Some spots were already starting to swell. He extended a hand in your direction but recoiled in an instant, fearing he’d hurt you yet again.

“Happens all the time,” one of the nurses said with a shrug. “Believe me, broken ribs are the least of her worries.”

Somehow, her words didn’t make him feel any better. He ached to hold your hand, to sweep a gentle caress across your cheek. But he didn’t dare touch you after what he did. Every glimpse of your bruised, swollen chest sent bile rushing into his throat.

The three dedicated members of the med team worked tirelessly for the rest of the flight. They did everything in their power to keep your condition steady, to maintain the life they worked so hard to save. It brought Bucky comfort to see them staying so close, ready to jump into action if need be.

Bucky, like the med team, hovered. He couldn’t bring himself to leave your side. You seemed too fragile, your condition too tenuous. He counted your every breath, took stock of every beat of your heart on the monitor. Stepping away for even a second felt wrong. He needed to be there if you crashed again, if the doctor needed extra hands. He needed to be there to help.

And if you woke up, he wanted to be the first face you saw.

But you didn’t wake. A groan here, a muscle twitch there- that was all you could spare. And though Bucky wanted nothing more than to see you open your eyes, he thanked the universe for keeping you unconscious. He knew tsunamis of pain rippled in the wings, waiting to overtake you the second you woke.

Bucky held his breath as the jet landed. Every jarring bump, every vibration, forced his heart into his throat. He feared that even the slightest impact would send you into cardiac arrest. He flicked his eyes from the rising and falling of your chest to the rhythmic flashing of your heart monitor and back again. Nothing changed, no alarms sounded. And when the jet finally stilled, Bucky breathed a deep sigh of relief. He just needed to get you to the med bay for treatment, and this whole nightmare would be over.

He didn’t like being optimistic. It felt like a set-up, like false hope. If he told himself you’d survive and you didn’t, the fall would be that much harder, that much more devastating.

But being realistic wasn’t any better. Telling himself that you were too far gone, that you weren’t going to make it, felt wrong. To him, it seemed like he was cursing you. Like willing your death into existence. Like begging the universe to end your life.

And so, he opted for a neutral mantra. “She’s home,” he told himself. “She’s home. She’s home. She’s home.”

The distance to the medbay felt longer than usual. The hallways seemed to stretch on forever, the double doors to the triage center seemed to grow farther and farther away. Bucky followed your gurney closely, only allowing a few inches of space between the two of you. He couldn’t be separated from you again. He wouldn’t. He needed to be with you every second, watching over you.

A dark cloud of impending doom loomed over his psyche. It whispered to him, telling him that if he left your side, if he let you out of his sight, you’d die. You’d be gone forever. And it would be his fault. He knew it was nonsense, that this was just his anxiety operating on overdrive. But he couldn’t shake the fear. And risking it wasn’t an option.

“No visitors past this point,” a security guard placed an arm in front of Bucky as he tried to enter the triage unit.

Bucky tried to go around the man, watching as the medical staff carried you farther out of reach. “I’m not a visitor, I’m an agent-”

“No agents past this point, then,” the guard rolled his eyes. “Only patients and medical staff. You can have a seat over there.”

A small table sat against the wall, flanked by two chairs. It was a sad, makeshift excuse for a waiting room that operated as a device to keep people from hanging around. But bucky couldn’t be discouraged. He took a seat in one of the chairs, determined to wait there as long as he had to. He knew he’d missed a number of important phone calls by now, and probably several meetings. But he didn’t care; all that mattered was you.

Dread circled Bucky like a buzzard as he waited. It was taking too long- why was it taking so long? How much time did the medical staff need? You were stable when the jet landed, the nurse said so. Why were there no updates? All Bucky needed was a nod, a bit of information. But he remained in the dark, wondering if you died on the operating table.

Maria found Bucky slumped in a chair with a zombie-like air about him. He was expressionless, his gaze hollow. His palms traced the same track up and down his thighs in a never-ending cycle. One look and she knew: something was very wrong.

“Hey,” she called softly, hoping not to startle him.

But Bucky didn’t respond- he didn’t even react. He just sat there, his unblinking stare burning a hole in the tile. An uneasiness enveloped Maria. She’d never seen Bucky so empty, so despondent. As she stared at him, she found herself fearing the worst. ‘Maybe he just received terrible news’ she thought. ‘Maybe he’s grieving’.

“Hey,” she tried again, nudging her foot against his.

He came back to life with a start. A sharp inhale filled his chest, his eyes blinked wildly. But his palms never stopped moving in their endless cycle against his tactical pants. And he never actually looked at her.

“Hi…” he breathed.

Hill took the seat opposite him. She conjured the gentlest, warmest tone she could find, “is everything okay?”

Bucky balled his hands into tight fists and stretched them out again. Maria noticed blood- your blood- crusting under his fingernails and staining his skin. But before she could get a good look, he grabbed the arms of the chair. His palms rubbed fervently against the plastic handles for a moment until they moved to his face. He ran his hands along his jaw, his spiky stubble poking into his skin.

“Barnes, what happened? Are you-”

Finally, his head snapped in her direction, “I can still feel it…”

“Feel what?”

Bucky’s head fell into his hands. He pressed his palms against his eyes and dragged them down his face. Maria watched him fall apart in slow motion. He seemed to be unraveling, one cell at a time. And when he finally spoke, shame made his words almost unintelligible.

“She crashed on the jet…”

“Oh...” Maria did her best to keep a calm, even tone. Her concern for you vibrated in her chest, but she didn’t dare let it free- not when Bucky was moments away from a meltdown. “Is she-”

“The med team needed help. There weren’t enough of them- they needed me to do chest compressions,” Bucky said, his voice low. “And I broke- I crushed her ribs.”

A sharp shudder rocked his entire body. Just thinking of that moment, when his too-strong hands destroyed your chest, was enough to make him sick. To scar him for life. To haunt him. Of all the horrible things he’d done in over the years, this was the worst. He gave his hands a quick shake, hoping to rid his nerve endings of the sensation.

“I felt her bones snapping under my hands,” Bucky’s words dripped with shame. “And I can still… I still feel it.”

“Okay,” Maria said gently. “Well, if she-”

“She was already in such bad shape,” Bucky swiped a tear from his cheek. “And I… I hurt her. I made it so much worse.”

His head fell into his hands once again and did not reemerge.

“Hey, look at me,” Maria gave his arm a gentle touch.

Bucky only shook his head.

“Come on, Barnes, just look at me for a second.”

Again, he refused.

Maria abandoned her chair and sat instead on the small table. She never got this close to Bucky. Usually, she preferred to give him his space. He wasn’t the touchy-feely type- unless you were around. But he was lost in a shame spiral, adrift with no hope of return. And he needed rescuing. She placed her hands on his and gently removed them from his face.

“You saved her life,” Maria said. “Twice. You rescued her from the base, and when the med team needed help, you came through.”

“But I-”

“Did it work?” Maria asked, her tine almost stern. “Did the chest compressions work?”

Bucky nodded.

Maria gave him a shrug, “That’s all that matters. She can recover from a few broken ribs, but if you hadn’t been there-”

Bucky averted his gaze as his eyes filled with tears.

“Hey,” Maria grabbed his face, bringing his focus back to her. “If you hadn’t been there, she’d be dead.”

Maria’s words fought hard against the demeaning voice that lived inside Bucky’s head. It screamed at him, telling him that he shouldn’t believe her, that he was a monster, that he almost killed you. Usually, Bucky allowed his inner demons to run free. He listened to them without pause, believing anything and everything they told him, no matter how vile. But Maria was steadfast and unshakable in her sentiments; she truly believed what she was saying. And by some miracle, Bucky did, too.

“Thanks…” He granted her a hollow smile and a small nod.

Hill sat in silence with him for a few hours. She didn’t try to make small talk or ask what was going on inside his head. She simply existed near him, sharing the space so that he didn’t have to be alone. She ignored important texts and sent every call to voicemail. She knew it was exactly what you’d do for him, if you were able. And she did her best to fill your shoes.

Abruptly, Bucky’s head snapped in her direction. His pulse thrummed against his skin as a new wave of anxiety crashed over him. “She kept saying…” he sighed. “She kept saying we needed to talk. She wanted to talk to me about something.”

Maria cocked her head to the side, “About what?”

He shrugged. “I told her we could talk later because there would be plenty of time,” Bucky’s words grew shaky. He found himself near tears for what felt like the millionth time that day. Guilt sucker punched him. “What if… what if there isn’t more time for us? What if that was all we were ever going to get? What if-”

“You’ll get more time,” Maria said with certainty. “The universe has a way of evening things out. You were robbed of time once; it won’t happen again. Plus, you’re deserved some fucking karmic retribution- you’re owed this.”

Bucky wondered how she could be that sure of something so ethereal. But she was steady, solid as a rock. She didn’t waver in her words or add caveats at the end. She, somehow, knew it to be true. And Bucky couldn’t help but believe her.

But when Fury called her for the eighth time, she knew quiet time was over.

“I have to go, okay? Fury can’t do anything without me, he’s hopeless.” She stood from her seat and rested a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Call if you need anything.”

Bucky thanked her a million times over and, for the first time, gave Maria a hug. She would never know how much her reassurances helped him. She’d pulled him from the ledge and gave him what he desperately needed: perspective.

In the hours that followed, he let her words play on a constant loop inside his mind. “If you hadn’t been there, she’d be dead,” he heard her say. “You’ll get more time.” The sickening feeling of your bones snapping under his strength never faded, and the fear of losing you still had him in a chokehold, but Maria’s words quieted his mind.

In the sad, empty waiting room, time seemed to mutate. Some of the hours dragged, others whizzed by. Bucky wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. Was it ten hours? Or twenty? He didn’t really care. He’d wait lifetimes for you.

He saw the security guards change shifts once, twice. It was the only thing alerting him to the passage of time, as part of him believed it was standing still. On the third shift change, they told him to go home.

“They’ll call you if there’s an update”, said one of the guards. “It’d probably be a good idea for you to go get some sleep, or something.”

Bucky knew he looked like hell. Your blood left crimson streaks across his face and neck. And the dark circles he usually wore under his eyes were a deep shade of plum. But he couldn’t leave, he couldn’t sleep. Not when your life hung in the balance. Not when you needed him.

A few more hours passed with no news, and Bucky found himself teetering on the edge of insanity. An angry, desperate voice bellowed inside his head. It told him to bust through the doors and find you, no matter what it took- even if it meant hurting people in the process. The gun secured to his hip and the knife strapped to his ankle became eerily attractive. His hands itched to reach for the weapons, to hold someone at gun point until they allowed him to see you. But he couldn’t to give in to the fear, to the violence. It took him years of therapy and long talks with you to stop seeing himself as a monster- and he refused to destroy the progress you helped him make.

A doctor stepped out of the double doors and looked in Bucky’s direction, “Sergeant Barnes?”

Bucky was on his feet before he knew what hit him. This was it. After what felt like an eternity of not knowing whether you lived or died, he was about to have an answer. Sweat dampened his palm, his brow as he stood in front of your doctor.

He didn’t know he was even capable of this kind of fear, this kind of agony. And though he was an impossibly strong physical specimen, Bucky knew he’d never be able to lift the weight of the grief that followed your loss. He knew that, if you died, he’d spend the rest of his life dragging himself from place to place, unable to stand, unable to push back against the overwhelming, oppressive force of losing you.

Your doctor spoke quickly and professionally about your condition, but the words turned to mush the second they reached Bucky’s brain. The combination of medical jargon and pure panic made their meanings imperceptible. But one phrase managed to cut through the fog of Bucky’s anxiety and exhaustion: “you can see her now.”

And just like that, Bucky took off. His fatigued body did its best to carry him through the halls, stumbling every now and then on the smooth tile of the hospital floors. But he didn’t dare slow down. He had to get to you.

By the time he reached the door to your room, he found himself shaking- almost shivering- with anxiety. He knew you were alive, of course. Knew that the doctors had been successful in saving your life. But something in him doubted their handiwork. Something in him swore that if he didn’t get to you in the next half second, you’d flatline. Again.

He could practically feel his brain rattling around inside his skull, his teeth chattered against one another. And the sharp tremors in his hands made it nearly impossible to get a grip on the door handle. Panic and frustration coursed through him as the he tried again and again to gain entry to your room with no luck. A strangled sob forced its way out of his chest and caught the attention of a nurse- one of the nurses who helped keep you alive on the jet.

“Hey…” Her eyes drifted to Bucky’s shaking hands. “Need some help?” Before Bucky could answer, she’d abandoned the medication she was prepping, discarded her gloves, and made her way to his side.

“Here, let me.” Her soft, sympathetic tone was almost too kind; Bucky’s eyes blurred with tears. She turned the door handle and gestured for Bucky to go inside.

His “thank you” was for more than just the door.

Bucky took a few steps inside and drew in a sharp breath; he’d never seen you in such severe condition. Over the many hours that Bucky waited for you outside, all of your bruises grew darker, more menacing. They stained your throat, your face, your arms. He didn’t even want to think about the ones on your chest- the ones he caused. Dried blood crusted in your hair and formed a path down the side of your face. It sat caked under your fingernails and rested in the creases of your palms. Thankfully, your gunshot wound was covered by gauze and concealed by your gown. But knowing it was there was enough to make Bucky sick. He, of course, witnessed and inflicted, his fair share of carnage over the years. But he knew your wound would haunt him for years to come- simply because it was yours.

All he wanted was to be near you. To sit at your bedside and hold your hand. But he didn’t dare to get any closer. Electrodes attached a dozen wires to your chest. IVs sat lodged in the crooks of your elbows, in the backs of your hands. Machines and monitors kept track of your vitals. And who was he to disturb this fragile, vital ecosystem? What if he accidentally pulled out one of your IVs? What if he detached a wire by mistake? He’d already hurt you once today, he wasn’t about to do it again.

He, instead, opted to stand at attention. A few feet away. For your safety. He didn’t touch you, didn’t even say your name. He simply stared at you, counting your every breath.

An hour- or maybe two- passed by with him like this. Nurses checked on you, doctors poked their heads in. And every time, they told him he was permitted to sit by your bedside. But he just shook his head. Sure, slipping his hand into yours, being close to you- it would provide him with incomprehensible comfort. But he couldn’t, not when you were so severely injured.

After the third hour, Bucky feared his sanity was slipping. A wicked voice lodged deep in his psyche suddenly awakened. It whispered to him, taunted him. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe he was asleep in the waiting room. Maybe you didn’t survive. Maybe…

And he would’ve believed it, had you not snapped him out of the vicious spiral.

“Buck?” He feared he’d never hear you voice again, but there it was. Hoarse and weak- but yours.

Bucky flew to your side. He cradled your face gingerly in his hands, completely consumed by the need to touch you, to feel you, to know that you were real. His palms laid flush against your cheeks, his thumbs sweeping over your skin. And in an instant, the sickly sensation of your snapping bones vanished.

A hurricane of tangled thoughts and emotions crashed over him. He had so much to he wanted to say, so much he wanted to confess to you. But the words refused to arrange themselves properly. Suddenly, Bucky wished he’d used his ample time in the waiting room to better organize his thoughts. He wished he’d sought out a pen and a scrap of paper and used them to plan and articulate his sentiment. But even if he’d found the supplies he needed, he wouldn’t have been able to jot a single thing down. Not with his shaking, unsteady hands.

Anxious words and broken sobs got stuck in his throat and formed a garbled, unintelligible mess as they left his mouth. But it was the best he could do. He stared at you, waiting for your response.

“I, um…” you looked at him for a long moment. The haze of head trauma, blood loss, and pain killers made you foggy. You did your best to trace your steps back through Bucky’s words, certain that your condition was the cause of your confusion. But after a significant pause, you came up empty. “Sorry, I- what?”

Bucky slid one of his hands into yours and gave a soft laugh. “Sorry. I tried to say-” He sat quiet for a moment. What had he tried to say, exactly? He wasn’t sure. With a small shake of his head, he re-rerouted. “Um, it doesn’t matter. Here, how’s this:” He cleared his throat and spoke with the sharpest pronunciation possible. “How are you feeling?”

Your laugh- Bucky’s favorite laugh- bubbled up to the surface. But regret swallowed you whole as pain shot through your head, your chest, your side. The hurt radiated through your entire being. It rendered you breathless, and left your face twisted in an agonized grimace.

Bucky didn’t like how long it took you to recover from the small chuckle you shot his way. A pang of worry shot through him. “Don’t exert yourself, okay?” He swept a thumb across your cheek, “you don’t wanna tear your stitches or...” He cleared his throat, “aggravate any, um, broken bones.” Bones that he broke.

“No, I’m…” you squeezed your eyes shut for a long moment before opening them again. The pain slowly receded. “I’m good, I’m okay. I just- breathing is hard. I forgot how shitty it feels to have broken ribs.”

Bucky nodded. His teeth sunk into the smooth flesh of his cheek. A metallic taste coated his mouth. He didn’t want to tell you the truth. Didn’t want you to know that he was the cause of your severe pain. But you deserved to know, didn’t you? With a deep sigh, he opened his mouth, intent on telling you what really happened. But you cut him off.

“Thank you, Buck. For coming to get me. I really thought I was…” Hot tears stung your eyes and blurred your vision. “I thought that was it for me, you know? And I just want you to know how-” you sniffed, “how grateful I am.”

Bucky left your side for only a second, retrieving a box of tissues from the counter across the room. He was back in no time and swept a tissue across your cheek to catch your tears.

“I know we always say that we have each other’s backs but you… you meant it,” you said. A small smile pulled at your lips, “thank you for meaning it.”

Bucky nodded. He did his best to keep his breathing steady, to stop himself from falling apart at the seams. He knew exactly what it felt like to be left behind, to wait for your last moments- alone.

“I wasn’t gonna leave you there, doll. I couldn’t.”

You gave a small nod. “Yeah, I- I wish my partner had felt the same way…” The hurt in your voice was unmistakable. It sliced though Bucky’s chest. “I didn’t think he would ever do something like that. I mean, I thought we were friends.”

The mere thought of Jake brought a familiar rage to the forefront of Bucky’s mind. He didn’t understand how anyone could be so callous, so uncaring- so indifferent to the well-being of others. The part of him that swore off unnecessary violence remained quiet as the rest of him imagined Jake’s demise. He wanted your disloyal partner to suffer. To squirm and squeal and regret that he ever left you behind. But that could wait- you were the priority.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect him to be that kind of person,” Bucky sighed, “he seemed like a stand-up guy.”

Silence filled the room as you thought over Jake’s desertion. His abandonment hurt. It stung in places you didn’t expect. You’d taken Jake under your wing and did everything in your power to be the best leader possible. All you wanted was to help him. To set him up for success.

And after working alongside Bucky for so long, you’d forgotten that disloyalty to one’s partner was even an option.

“He probably panicked,” you tried to rationalize. “And then once he realized what he’d done, maybe he…”

There was no rationalizing this.

An ugly realization slithered into your mind. “After he left, I think he probably hoped I’d just die… that way I wouldn’t be able to give my side of the story.” The weight of Jake’s actions hit you like a train. Rivulets of warm tears rolled down your cheeks, only to be swept away by Bucky’s gentle hand. With a small shake of your head, you did your best to banish the feelings of abandonment and betrayal. Wallowing would only make you more miserable. And you didn’t need emotional pain on top of the physical agony that already plagued you.

“Well, joke’s on him,” you shrugged, “cause I’m still alive.” Pain radiated through your chest, bringing a grimace to your face. “Kind of.”

Bucky didn’t understand how you could just dismiss the bad feelings. Couldn’t understand your propensity for levity. Your partner left you for dead without a second thought- and yet, you found a way to joke about it. It was something he’d always admired about you, something he wished he was capable of.

You gave a strained laugh, “I can’t wait to see the look on Jake’s face when he finds out that I didn’t die.”

Bucky wasn’t sure what prompted him to say it. It left his mouth without his brain’s authorization.

“But you did.”

He wished to take the words back, but it was too late. They hung in the air, just out of his reach.

“I…” you struggled to grasp Bucky’s words. “I what?”

This was not the time- or the place, or the way- to tell you the truth. But he didn’t have a choice. His clumsy words made his bed, and now he had to lie in it.

“You, um…” Bucky didn’t want to think about what happened, let alone say it out loud. But he owed it to you to be honest. Especially after Jake had lied to you about being a trustworthy partner. Bucky scratched at the stubble on his face, ran a hand through his hair. Anything to delay the inevitable. But he couldn’t put it off for long. “Your heart stopped- you died. On the jet.”

Only one word fell from your lips, “Oh…”

“And while I’m at it, I might as well tell you that…” Bucky took a deep inhale. He was in too deep now. And keeping this from you any longer felt like lying. “That your ribs are broken because of me.”

A quizzical look crossed your face, “what do you mean?”

“I mean… the med team was short staffed on the jet. There were only three of them. And when you crashed, it was- it was an all hands on deck situation.” He flashed back to the moment when the alarms sounded. When your EKG flatlined. A shudder ran through him. “They needed me to do chest compressions. And I- I didn’t want to hurt you, but the nurse said I wasn’t pushing hard enough to actually help you. And when I pushed harder- I broke your ribs.”

Bucky searched your face for something- anything. Anger. Fear. Betrayal. But he found nothing. Your expression was as neutral as they come. He feared that something lingered just below the surface. That once you fully processed his words, you’d erupt into a perfect storm of disgust and disappointment.

He told himself to wait silently until you made up your mind. But the outburst exploded from his lips before he could stop it. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You know I’d never want to hurt you, I would never do anything to hurt you. But I… they told me I had to push harder. Or it wasn’t going to work. And I just wanted it to work, I wanted you to be okay, and-”

It took almost all of your strength to raise your hand and place a finger to Bucky’s lips. He fell silent.

“Buck, it’s okay.”

He tried to form a rebuttal, but you cut him off.

“You didn’t have to rescue me, but you did. No questions asked, no hesitation. You saved my life by getting me out of there. And you saved me again by helping the med team.” Your hand drifted from Bucky’s face and landed in his palm. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Bucky didn’t say anything else. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your palm. His eyes fell downward. You could almost see the shame eating him alive from the inside.

“Hey,” you intertwined your fingers with his. “I can handle a few broken ribs.”

“No, I- I know you can. I just…” A sad smiled flickered across his lips. “I feel terrible. You went through a lot. And I just don’t like knowing I made it worse.”

A long silence filled the room. You’d seen this side of Bucky more times than you could count. And you knew him well enough to know what followed. He was going to feel bad- terrible, actually- about this for a while. There was no accelerating the process or absolving him of his guilt. No amount of reassurances could save him from it. He just had to sit with it. One day, the weight would diminish. But it was going to take time. And that was okay.

You gave his hand a squeeze. “I thought your voice was a hallucination, you know.”

Bucky lifted his head.

“And when you came into the room, I actually thought that was a hallucination, too.” A smile stretched across your face, “I mean, I thought I was losing my mind.”

Bucky gave a half-hearted chuckle. He didn’t want to think about you in that room by yourself. About you struggling to tell what was real.

“But then you touched me…” You raised your hand and brushed it across your cheek, mimicking him. “And that’s when I realized that you were real- that you were there.” You fell quiet for a moment, lost in the memory of Bucky’s rescue. “It was like, in that moment, I wasn’t scared anymore. I wasn’t scared of the pain. I wasn’t scared of dying. I was just scared that…”

“What?”

“You have to promise not to laugh,” you told him with an authoritative tone. “Cause I know it’s corny, or cheesy, or whatever.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky drew an X over his heart. “I’m not gonna laugh at you.”

You stared at him with narrowed eyes, sizing up his promise. But, of course, you knew Bucky would never tease or ridicule you about something like this.

“Okay, fine, I um… I was scared that I’d never see you again. If I died, I mean.”

Bucky’s lungs emptied. He couldn’t remember how to breathe, how to speak. A sudden ache ripped through his heart as it splintered and shattered into a million pieces. To know that you thought of him in what you believed were your last moments somehow ripped him apart and put him back together all at once.

Your voice cracked. Tears filled your eyes. “I was afraid that we’d already run out of time. I was afraid that we weren’t going to get any more.” A few soft sobs escaped from your throat, followed by a pained groan. But you pushed passed the throbbing in your chest. “But I was so relieved. Because I got to see you one last time. It was the most intense sense of peace I’ve ever experienced.”

Bucky struggled to hold on to his composure. He felt himself crumbling, weakening under the weight of your words.

“But then I realized- I realized I’d never get to tell you. And you kept saying we could talk later, but I didn’t know if there would be a ‘later’. And when I blacked out, I was so full of…” You shook your head ever so slightly, sending a few tears dripping onto your cheeks. “I had so much regret. Because I needed you to know.”

“To know what?” Bucky leaned in close, searching your face for any inkling, any clue. “Doll, it’s ‘later’. Tell me- whatever it is. You can tell me now, it’s-”

Your lips met his in a soft kiss. In it, everything you’d ever felt for him came rushing forward. Admiration. Longing. Lust. Obsession. Adoration. Love.

A sting of pain jolted through you as your split lip brushed his, but you didn’t care. His hands found your face, your fingers curled into the collar of his shirt. It was always supposed to be this way.

When the two of you finally separated, Bucky simply stared at you. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak. He wasn’t sure he knew how.

“I love you, Buck. I’ve loved you- for so long.” A huff left your chest, “So. Long.”

Still, Bucky remained silent. Nerves began crawling through you like vines, twisting their way through every fiber of your being. But you owed it to yourself, and to Bucky, to tell him the truth.

“And I just… I know how you see yourself. And I know you don’t think you’re even worthy of my friendship, let alone love. But I was so anxious, cause I thought you’d never know the truth. I thought I’d die without getting to tell you. And you’d live the rest of your life thinking that you’re not worthy, that no one could ever love you. But I- I love you. I just needed you to know.”

The silence made your ears ring. Bucky’s face still wore a mask of bewilderment. And you feared you’d ruined everything.

“You don’t have to say it back, though,” you said. “I’m not gonna stop being your friend if this is an unrequited thing.”

Finally, Bucky came back to life. He rolled his eyes and let a scoff escape his lips. He leaned in close, the tip of his nose almost brushing yours. “Unrequited? I broke every SWORD rule and policy. Abducted medical staff. Stole a jet. And went on an unauthorized mission. All to get you back. I didn’t even know if you were alive, I just- I had to bring you home.”

He closed the small gap that remained between your face and his and granted you warm, gentle kiss that tasted like home. “I did all that- and you thought there was even a chance that I didn’t love you back?” Bucky gave a playful roll of his eyes, “you don’t know me at all, sweetheart.”

You returned his eye roll. "Well, you're a really great friend to me. And you always have been. So, I didn’t take a rescue as a proclamation of love,” you gave a strained chuckle. “I just thought-”

“I’ve loved you for…” Bucky thought back over the course of your friendship. The day you first met, the first time you helped him through a panic attack, the time he made you the ugliest cake in the world for your birthday. He saw his life in two parts: before he met you and after he met you. And he so preferred the after.

“I don’t even know how long,” he shrugged. It was almost automatic. His feelings for you didn’t need a slow, gradual build up. They descended upon him all at once, like the world’s most beautiful avalanche. “It’s been a long time- an embarrassing amount of time, probably,” he laughed.

“Oh, so we’re both cowards then,” you shot him a wink. “Too afraid to tell the other how we feel.”

Bucky nodded, “It seems that way…”

“But you weren’t too scared to steal a jet and run into possible gun fire?” you quipped.

“Nope. Didn’t even think about it,” he said matter-of-factly. “I just wanted to find you.”

You’d never experienced a love- a commitment- like that. It sent a rush of warmth into your cheeks and somehow eased the pain plaguing your body. You knew in your heart you would’ve done the same for Bucky without a second thought. But knowing that he was so fiercely determined to bring you home felt almost unbelievable. You had the proof, though, right there in front of you. This man, who you loved, loved you too. And loved you enough to risk his life for you. It wasn’t something you’d ever ask him to do, and you knew you’d never have to. He’d do it without hesitation. Without reservation. He’d walk through fire for you if it meant bringing you home.

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@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

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mapis-putellas · 19 days ago

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𝑷𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

It started as any other day in Barcelona. The sun was shining, the air warm but pleasant, and Alexia was finishing up her morning routine, methodical as always. You watched from the sofa, scrolling absently through your phone while she moved around the flat, gathering her essentials for a planned lunch outing. Her cupra keys hung on the hook by the door, glinting temptingly in the light. That’s when the idea struck.

For months, you’d been relegated to the passenger seat of her beloved car, and while you adored her insistence on taking care of you, you sometimes longed to be in control. You had your licence; you were a good driver. Yet every time you reached for those keys, she would scoop them away, pulling you into one of those deceptively gentle hugs that left no room for argument. You’d tried reasoning, teasing, even sulking, but nothing swayed her. Today, though, you decided it would be different.

You slipped off the sofa as quietly as possible, grabbing the keys and slipping out of the flat. It was a little thrill to descend the stairs and approach her car, knowing she was still inside, oblivious. Sliding into the driver’s seat, you adjusted it to your height, smiling mischievously as you waited for her.

When Alexia finally appeared, her bag slung over one shoulder, sunglasses perched on her head, she froze mid-step. Her eyes locked onto you through the windscreen, her brows furrowing in confusion before the realisation hit. She pointed at you and shook her head, already muttering to herself in Spanish as she strode towards the car.

You rolled the window down just as she reached the driver’s side door. “What are you doing?” she asked, her accent thick but her tone unmistakably firm.

“I’m driving,” you said simply, flashing her your most innocent smile.

“No,” she said immediately, gesturing for you to get out. “Move.”

You shook your head, hands gripping the wheel as if your life depended on it. “Not today, baby. You always drive. It’s my turn.”

She sighed, exasperated, her hands going to her hips. “You can’t drive my car. You know this.”

“I can, and I will,” you replied, grinning up at her. “Come on, Alexia, just let me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “No. Get out.”

You leaned back in the seat, feigning relaxation. “Not happening.”

She tugged at the handle, which of course you had locked, then let out another huff of frustration. “Unlock the door, mi vida,” she demanded, but her voice had softened slightly, as if trying a gentler approach might work.

“Nope. Passenger side’s open, though,” you quipped, gesturing to the other door with a cheeky grin.

She threw her hands up in frustration, muttering something under her breath that you didn’t quite catch. Then she marched around to the passenger side, yanking that door open. For a moment, you thought she’d given in, but no, she leaned over, reaching for the keys still in the ignition. You quickly pulled them out and held them up.

“Nice try,” you said, grinning.

Her glare could’ve melted steel. “You are impossible,” she said, straightening up and storming back to your side of the car.

“Am I, though?” you teased, twirling the keys in your hand.

“Yes,” she said firmly, crossing her arms. “Get out.”

“Nope,” you said, popping the keys back into the ignition and revving the engine lightly. The sound made her stop in her tracks, her eyes widening slightly.

“You wouldn’t,” she said, her voice quieter now, a hint of disbelief creeping in.

You raised an eyebrow, foot hovering over the pedal. “Try me.”

Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought she might genuinely lose it. But then she sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose before muttering something else in Spanish. Finally, she walked back around to the passenger side and got in, slamming the door behind her.

“Happy?” she said, her tone sharp.

“Ecstatic,” you replied, trying -and failing- to hide your grin.

The car pulled out smoothly, and you couldn’t help but glance over at her. She sat stiffly, arms crossed and her lips pressed into a thin line. You reached over, placing your hand on her thigh the way she always did with you.

“Relax, baby,” you said, giving her leg a gentle squeeze. “I’ve got this.”

She didn’t reply, her gaze fixed firmly out the window.

“Oh, come on,” you teased. “You’re being a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Dramatic?” she repeated, finally turning to look at you. “This is my car.”

“And you’ll get it back in one piece,” you assured her. “Probably.”

Her eyes widened again, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Kidding! I’m kidding!”

“Not funny,” she muttered, though the corner of her mouth twitched ever so slightly.

“You’re cute when you’re grumpy,” you said, unable to resist.

She shot you a look, but there was no real heat behind it. “Stop talking.”

“Not a chance,” you said cheerfully. “I have to enjoy this moment while I can. It’s not every day I get to call you the passenger princess.”

Her scoff was immediate. “I am not-”

“Oh, but you are,” you interrupted, grinning at her. “Sitting there, all pretty and pouty. It suits you.”

She muttered something in Spanish, but you were pretty sure it wasn’t a compliment.

By the time you reached the restaurant, she looked like she was ready to explode -or possibly murder you. You parked the car with a flourish, turning to her with a smug smile.

“See? No scratches, no dents. I’m a great driver,” you said.

She didn’t reply, simply shaking her head as she got out of the car. But as you walked around to meet her, she caught your wrist, pulling you close.

“Never again,” she said firmly, her voice low.

“We’ll see,” you replied, leaning up to kiss her cheek.

Her lips twitched, but she quickly schooled her expression into something neutral as she dragged you into the restaurant.

The moment you slipped Alexia’s car keys out of her back pocket, you knew you were in trouble. The sharp intake of breath you heard from her told you everything you needed to know before you even turned to look at her. She was standing still, her hands on her hips, her jaw set. Her eyes locked onto yours with a mix of annoyance and incredulity, and for a moment, you thought she might actually explode.

You froze for half a second, your fingers curling tightly around the keys as you gauged your options. Her voice, low and firm, broke the tense silence between you.

“Dámelos,” she demanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Your eyes widened, but instead of obeying, you did the exact opposite. Without a word, you bolted across the nearly empty car park, the keys clutched tightly in your hand.

“¡Dios mío!” Alexia muttered under her breath before taking off after you.

You could hear her footsteps behind you, heavy and determined, but you knew you had the advantage. She may have been taller, her stride longer, but you were faster, and you had no intention of giving up your prize so easily.

“Stop running!” she called, her voice sharp as she chased you around the rows of parked cars.

“Then stop trying to take the keys!” you shouted back, throwing a grin over your shoulder.

Her eyes narrowed, and she quickened her pace, but you zigzagged between cars, keeping just out of her reach. You could hear her muttering in Spanish, words you didn’t quite catch but that you knew were probably not the most flattering.

“Esto no es gracioso!” she called, her tone somewhere between frustration and disbelief. “Give me the keys!”

“Not a chance, baby!” you teased.

She huffed audibly, her strides becoming more purposeful. “You’re going to make me really angry,” she warned, but her empty threats only spurred you on.

You darted around a lamppost, narrowly avoiding her outstretched hand as she tried to grab you. “You’re going to have to work harder than that!” you taunted, feeling a surge of adrenaline as you stayed just ahead of her.

“Eres imposible!” she shot back, her tone full of exasperation.

Despite her irritation, there was something playful in her eyes that told you she wasn’t entirely serious. Still, her determination was undeniable, and you could feel her frustration mounting as the chase continued.

Finally, after a few more laps around the car park, you noticed her pace slowing slightly. She stopped in the middle of an empty lane, hands on her knees as she caught her breath. Her shoulders rose and fell heavily, and when she looked up at you, there was something different in her expression.

“Amor,” she said softly, her voice carrying a note of weariness.

You slowed to a stop, guilt creeping in as you saw the faint trace of hurt in her eyes. You didn’t want to actually upset her. Clutching the keys tightly in your hand, you hesitated for a moment before walking towards her.

“Alexia,” you started, your voice gentle. “I didn’t mean to-”

Before you could finish your sentence, she straightened up and lunged forward, grabbing the keys from your hand in one swift motion.

Your jaw dropped as you realised what had just happened. “Wait, what?!”

She stepped back, a triumphant grin spreading across her face as she held up the keys like a trophy. “Gotcha,” she said smugly.

It hit you like a tonne of bricks. She’d played you. She’d used your soft spot for her to her advantage, knowing you wouldn’t be able to resist comforting her.

“You tricked me!” you exclaimed, your voice a mix of shock and betrayal.

Her grin widened as she twirled the keys around her finger. “You deserved it,” she replied.

“How dare you!” you pouted, crossing your arms and sinking down onto the curb in dramatic fashion.

She let out a soft laugh, her steps slow and deliberate as she walked over to where you were sitting. “Vamos,” she said, nodding towards the car.

“No,” you replied stubbornly, refusing to look at her.

“Amor,” she tried again, crouching slightly to meet your gaze.

You shook your head, keeping your arms firmly crossed. “Not talking to you.”

Her expression softened slightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she reached out to brush her fingers against your knee. “Don’t be like this,” she said softly.

You shrugged her hand off, turning your face away from her. “You played me, Alexia. That’s low.”

She let out a quiet sigh, standing up straight and crossing her own arms as she looked down at you. “Okay,” she said simply, her tone almost too casual.

Before you could process what she meant, she rounded your body, bent down, her strong arms wrapping around you as she hoisted you up off the curb like you weighed nothing.

“Alexia!” you squealed, your hands instinctively gripping her shoulders as she adjusted her hold on you, bouncing you up slightly so arms were beneath your ass.

“Now you come,” she said firmly, her voice carrying a hint of amusement as she started walking towards the car with you still in her arms.

You squirmed in her grasp, but her hold was unyielding. “Put me down!”

“No,” she replied simply, her tone light but final.

You huffed, your pout returning as you rested your chin on her shoulder. “I hate you,” you muttered, though the lack of conviction in your voice made it clear you didn’t mean it.

“No, you don’t,” she said confidently, her lips brushing against your shoulder as she spoke.

When she finally reached the car, she set you down gently, her hands lingering on your waist for a moment as she looked at you. “You’re very stubborn,” she said, her tone soft but teasing.

You rolled your eyes, still pouting as you leaned back against the car. “Takes one to know one.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile as she opened the passenger door, gesturing for you to get in. “Come on, mi vida.”

You hesitated for a moment, still tempted to cling to your sulk, but the warmth in her eyes and the gentle curve of her smile made it impossible to stay mad at her.

“Fine,” you muttered, sliding into the seat.

She leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before closing the door and walking around to the driver’s side.

As she started the car, you couldn’t help but glance over at her, a small smile tugging at your own lips despite yourself.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you said quietly, echoing her earlier words.

She glanced at you, her smile softening. “I know,” she replied, her voice filled with affection.

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

#alexia putellas x reader #groucy alexia putellas #alexia putellas x you #alexia putellas #woso community #woso x reader #woso appreciation #woso imagine

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soleilapproves · 4 months ago

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Boxer!Sukuna who dedicates his first ever win to you

Note: female reader

Masterlist

Your heart was racing. Sukuna had prepared you for the fact that boxing arenas could get overwhelming with the constant yelling and cheering for violence, but you still felt uneasy watching your boyfriend receive punch after punch.

You knew your boyfriend was just a rookie boxer but you couldn’t help but pray that by some miracle, he would be able to defeat his opponent. He had been training specifically for this match for the past two months and had sacrificed his blood, sweat and tears for it. It didn’t help that his opponent was a seasoned winner.

Your chest tightened as Sukuna was struck down once again. All you could think about was how he would study his opponent’s moves late at night while you stayed up with him. You pressed your hands together, hoping that he would win by some miracle.

Almost as if on cue, Sukuna managed to dodge a critical hit and wound his arm to absolutely knock out his opponent. The other fighter fell on to the ground and did not get up even after the countdown. The referee grabbed Sukuna’s hand and raised it in the air as the crowd erupted in cheers.

You let out a sigh of relief and clapped as loudly as possible for your boyfriend’s triumph. It was his first win as a professional boxer. He was going to start making a name for himself pretty soon and you could only imagine what was to come after. He deserved this. It was all because of his hard work and resilience.

Sukuna’s tired eyes searched for yours in the VIP box and you smiled at him. He returned an exhausted one back to you and proceeded to do something you never expected.

He kissed his fingers and pointed to you, all your friends and in the VIP box began clamoring with teases and giggles.

Even while being adorned with his belt, Sukuna’s eyes never left yours. He mentioned earlier that your presence was integral to his success but you never knew it was to such a degree. You blew him a flowing kiss and he chuckled at the sight. He didn’t even bother to look at the cameras looming around him until his manager told him to pose for the pictures.

Of course, after his first win, he was immediately subject to a press conference. He sulked at first, hoping that he could share at least a moment with you before being bombarded with questions but he decided to get it over with so he could go home soon.

“Mr. Sukuna, how do you feel after your first win.”

“Fucking tired.” Your bruised and battered boyfriend replied. The crowded erupted into a few giggles and murmurs at his deadpan reply.

“Would you like to mention any people that helped you become a good fighter?”

“Aside from my coach, I want to dedicate my win to my girlfriend. She put up with a lot of my shit while training.”

You giggled at his reply from backstage. Supporting wasn’t a chore but it was extensive work. Cooking twice the amount of food so he could bulk, constantly having your sleep disturbed because he would train in the early hours of the morning, and not go too crazy when you ate out on dates was difficult but well worth the effort.

After the press conference, you two were back home. Sukuna had retired to your bedroom while you did the finishing touches of your night time skin care.

“The winner of today’s fight commands his woman’s presence.” Your boyfriend called out, urging you to hurry up. You put away your containers and walked to the bedroom. “I’m here, your majesty.” You sarcastically replied as you laid down next to him. He had a frown on his face from being alone.

He opened up the blanket to let you in and slotted you next to him with your back facing his chest. His arms wrapped around you as he tucked your head under his chin. “I forgot to congratulate you earlier.” You speak out.

He hums and squeezes you. “Thanks. Only took you 3 hours to say that.” You could almost feel him sulk.

“Can you blame me? You were surrounded by people. I needed to let you have your moment.” You reasoned.

“What about when we were driving back? It was just you and me in the car.”

“You fell asleep as soon as your ass touched the seat.”

He scoffed at your reply and pushed you away. “Whatever, it’s not like getting a congratulatory kiss from my girlfriend was the only thing I wanted.” He said as he turned his back you.

This man was a big baby. The world saw him as an upcoming and fearful fighter but here he was sulking over the fact that you didn’t give him attention.

You giggled and rubbed his back to soothe him. “I can still give you a congratulatory kiss if you want.” For a second, you swore that he almost turned around but he gave you the silent treatment instead. “Kuna,” you whined. As much as you cringed while saying it, you knew using that nickname was his weakness.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, baby. Let me give you the kind of kiss a winner deserves.” You said as you rubbed his stomach. The man turned around, eyes not meeting yours. He was still sporting the frown from earlier.

You held his face in your hands. Your fingers traced his tattoos and you could see his eyes rapidly moving because of your touch. You giggled and moved your fingers to his lips. Luckily, his opponent missed them during the fight so you could easily kiss him.

You slowly pressed your lips against his and he immediately reciprocated. While your touch was delicate with your hand on cradling face, his touch was rougher. His hand entwined in your hair as his body pressed to yours. Your tongue entered his mouth and he gladly welcomed it which a slight suck.

His free hand travelled down to your waist and rolled you on top of him. The kiss would’ve gotten more heated if he didn’t wince all of a sudden.

“What’s wrong, Kuna?”

He propped you back down on the bed. And grabbed the area right beneath his chest. “Ah shit, I forgot about my rib getting bruised.” You grimaced at the thought of him being in pain.

“Want me to get some ice? I can always sleep on the couch so I don’t end up accidentally kicking you.” You said out of concern.

His eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “Don’t worry, it’s not that bad.” He grabbed ahold of your waist again and just pulled you close to him. “I didn’t win that trophy so my girlfriend could sleep on the couch. And since I’m a boxing champion, I can handle a few punches from you.”

“But-“

“Shush.” He pecked you on the lips to keep you from protesting. “This is how I wanna celebrate my first win. With you next to me.”

#sukuna ryoumen x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #jjk sukuna #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna #jjk x y/n #jjk au #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk fluff

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jhdyuiee · 3 months ago

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treasure trove

𓇼 pairing: husband!johnny x fem!reader

𓇼 tags/warnings: fluff, smut!, unprotected sex, tit job, fingering, multiple positions/orgasms, oral (m receiving), tit/breast play, sucking/marking/biting, kissing/making out, dirty talk, breeding kink, cursing, name calling (good girl) & pet names (wife, babe), sex by the beach :0, rough johnny

𓇼 w.c: 2k

𓇼 a.n: hehe, i told ya'll i'd be back very soon and with my first ever johnny fic no less, hehe. anyhow this is the last release of the week, please stay tuned next weekend for my next releases! thank you for your continuous love and support, i truly appreciate it & i love ya'll just so much! until next week, jiji out 🤍

Maldives.

Nothing beats the ocean side view. The water so clear, so exquisite. You looked out the window of the restaurant you and your husband were dining in for the night. Today marked a day until your honeymoon was over. You were a bit sad, not wanting this to end, not wanting to leave just yet.

You watched as the sun slowly set, illuminating the beautiful ocean. You were always fond of the ocean, it was the center of all your good moments in life. You teared your gaze from the beautiful ocean to the man in front of you.

Your husband: Johnny Suh.

“I’m starting to think you’re on this honeymoon with the ocean rather than with me,” Johnny says as he swirls the wine in his cup.

You couldn’t help but smile at his commentary. “Jealous of the ocean, Suh?” you teased.

“You’re a Suh too now you know,” he answered, taking the cup of wine to his lips. His face scrunches up when he gets a taste. He sets the glass down, using that hand to entwine his fingers with yours.

“Did I ever tell you how magnificent you look tonight?” your husband speaks, a slight blush adorning your cheeks.

“Yes, yes you have… in fact it's all you’ve said to be tonight,” you told your husband who just looked at you like a love struck fool. He was your fool, head over heels for you. In Johnny’s world he always thanked the lord above for letting him meet someone like you.

“Well, what can I say, my wife is simply just the most radiant woman in the whole world!” he says a bit louder, loud enough for other guests to hear.

You slightly shout his name as you see the few guests turn around to your table. Johnny just laughs, bringing your entwined hands to his lips where he kissed it so lovingly.

“I love you,” he mutters, instantly melting your heart.

“I love you too,” you tell him as you then bring his hand to your lips so you could do the same thing.

And so your dinner with Johnny continued, laughter and smiles radiating from your table. Everyone in that restaurant could feel the love surrounding you two– the newly wedded couple. Once it was time to go, Johnny made sure to take your hand–holding it real tight–and walk you to his car. You noticed there was no one else there except you two, Johnny noticed this too. And Johnny for one was someone who wouldn’t miss an opportunity to do something… revolting.

His hands quickly find their way to your waist, holding you as he slams his mouth onto yours. You could taste remnants of his wine from him, intoxicating yourself. You didn’t mean the wine, but Johnny himself, the man was like an addicting drug, something you couldn’t help but intoxicate yourself with.

You find yourself trapped, being eaten alive almost. His tongue fights against yours, dominance overriding Johnny. His hands lingered on your ass, groping it which caused you to moan into his mouth. He lightly smacks one of your cheeks before soothing it. You could feel your panties begin to wetten, yourself begin to heat up.

He parts from the heated kiss first, instead going to kiss your cheek, jaw, before settling on your neck. He uses one hand to brush away any hairs, leaving your neck in full exposure to him. He nips on your skin before sucking on it. You grab onto his brown locks, holding him as he tries marking you. You were sure you were going to be left in a body full of marks by the time ya’ll leave tomorrow. Well, not that you were complaining.

Once Johnny felt satisfied he parts from your neck, meeting you at eye level. And just as he was about to devour you again, you two hear a woman’s laughter in the distance. You two freeze, instantly sobering up. However you didn’t fail to notice the remnants of lust in Johnny's eyes.

“Just wait until we get into the villa,” he whispers into your ear before taking your hand to guide you to the passenger seat. As you take your seat and he begins to drive off, your mind wanders to all the indecencies that are about to unravel.

𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉

You two couldn’t make it past the front door before he had you two undressing. You were left in nothing, naked as he sucked on your tits. “How are you so perfect,” he groans against your breast, kissing his way to the other one where he proceeds to suck on your nipple before marking you up. You gripped onto his hair, watching as he loved on your body.

When he’s had enough he brings his lips to yours, pecking them before saying, “why don’t you take care of me now, I’ve been hard ever since the restaurant.” Johnny guides your hand to his hardened member that was still confined by his boxers. You shyly smiled before dropping onto your knees where you then proceed to take them off. His cock springs out, leaking with pre already and the tip looking red.

You licked your lips before inching towards his cock. You dart your tongue out before swirling it around his tip, licking up his pre. You groaned at the sour taste, only focusing on his tip. Johnny looks down at you with an urge to just shove himself down your throat, but he wanted you to do it yourself. He watched as your cute tongue licked his tip before licking his slit. He curses and closes his eyes at the pleasuring sensation.

You looked up, finding your husband in pure ecstasy from just some licking. You felt it was right to now kick things up a notch, so you spit on his cock. You used one of your hands to spread the spit around him, making sure to wet him well. When you felt it was wet enough you begin.

Johnny opens his eyes again when he feels his cock slide in between something soft, something he knew all too well: your tits.

“Fuck,” Johnny curses as he watches you try to fuck his cock in between your tits. Eventually opting to help you out by thrusting himself in between them, watching as you take his tip inside your mouth.

He knew he wasn't going to last, feeling himself nearing his release. You too could feel it in the way he twitched in between you. So being the caring wife that you are, you helped him out a bit by squeezing your tits a bit tighter and taking him in your mouth more deeper.

Johnny gripped your head, holding it as he came. His warm seeds erupting inside your mouth before you swallowed them. You lick him clean one last time before getting back up. Johnny immediately kisses you, tasting himself on you. You feel as his fingers go to your dripping cunt, he moans at the amount of juice overflowing you right now. He continues, sliding them in between your pussy lips. He barely gets to your entrance before you part from the kiss to say: “Pl-Please Johnny, in-inside… inside me pl-please.”

He groans, “anything for you my wife,” he says, unable to resist your pleas.

He flips your two around, your back against the wall. He takes one of your legs into his hand, holding it as he uses his other hand to bring his cock to your dripping entrance. You watched intently, watched as you swallowed him right up. Your hands fly to his shoulders, holding him as you feel his girth spread your gummy walls apart. He was snug inside you, fitting into you just right.

“So fucking tight, feels so good,” Johnny moans against your ear before kissing it. You mutter a sultry, yes, back to him.

Johnny starts thrusting, in and out, you watched with watery eyes. The pleasure so massive as you feel his cock reach up to your cervix, kissing your womb so nicely. You chant out his name when he continues pumping his length into you ruthlessly. You could feel yourself being fucked into oblivion already. You tightened yourself even more around him. “Fuck, already gonna cum babe?” Johnny asks.

“Mmmm,” you say, unable to cohort a simple sentence. Your fingers scratched Johnny’s back as he continued pounding you against the wall.

Johnny watches you in pleasure, watching the way your tits bounced in front of him. It was a sight he couldn't pass up on. Johnny wraps his mouth around one of your nipples, sucking on the poor thing as you grew closer to your release.

Too lost in the overstimulation from his cock and mouth, you failed to notice his fingers which grazed your clit. It wasn’t until you felt them rub your clit that you felt your eyes widened. Involuntary moans erupted from you as he continued playing with your clit.

“I’m… I’m cumming,” you moaned, as you gushed around his cock. Johnny too moans, loving the way you felt as you came around his cock. He continues his thrusting, overstimulating you into mini orgasms until he finally cums. You still couldn’t get used to how much he would cum, how’d he’d fill you up with such warmth.

However, just when you thought it was over, it wasn’t. Unlike the other nights, tonight Johnny was in a desperation of more. He carried you further inside the villa, rushing to the bedroom. He plops you on the bed, feeling it dip as he climbs on as well. Johnny opens your legs, watching as your and his orgasm mixed together and dripped out of you.

“Say, my dear wife, what if we have a child,” Johnny blurts out.

You didn’t know what to say, was this the cause of his sex driven state or was he genuine? Well, whatever the case, you didn’t mind. You were always talking about how much you wanted a child and were always ready to have one if the time ever arose.

“Do it, get me pregnant tonight my dear husband,” you whispered, pecking his lips. you were testing him, a test Johnny wasn’t going to play by tonight. He backs up a bit, spreading your legs wider before positioning his cock in between your folds. He rubs himself in between them, gathering the remnants of his leaking cum only to push them back inside.

“Y-Yes,” you moaned, “I could feel you so deep.”

Johnny smirks, watching your face twist in pleasure, watching as your eyes glistened with tears. He pistoned his thrust, hips slapping against your ass. He continues his ruthless thrust in and out of your cunt as the squelching sounds echoed in the room. He was wrecking your cunt, trying to make sure he was the only one that could ever leave you satisfied for all your life.

“Keep squeezing me babe and you’ll milk me in no time,” he groans, feeling as you squeezed him. “Good girl, just like that,” he then says as he rubs your clit once more.

“I’m go-gonna cum,” you moaned, tongue lolling out, “Cum wi-with me!”

His thrusting falters, going irregular until he finally cums inside you for a second time tonight. Yet he wasn’t done, he still had a promise to uphold. The promise to make sure you left this trip pregnant with his child, our child. And so he fucks his cum into you deeper, not stopping until he’s sure he’s made you pregnant.

𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉

Once everything seemed all perfect to him, Johnny takes his cock out of your stuffed pussy. Remnants of his animalistic side, subduing and being replaced by a gentle and cuddly husband. Johnny engulfed you into his body, his warmth, as he whispered sweet-nothings into your ear.

Then everything fell silent, the ocean waves sounding in the distance lulling you to sleep. You peacefully slept in Johnny’s arms, resting after a long day and night. In the midst of you sleep you felt a hand graze your stomach, and a loving whisper in your ear.

“I promise to protect you both, my treasures.”

2024. 11. 10

final a.n: have a great weekend! stay safe! & creds to the person who created the dividers, i lost their tumblr page so i couldn't tag them ahhh

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erensfeed · 3 months ago

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content: boyfriends who would flash their headlights before leaving through the driveway, as their way of saying they love you.

note: i really love the concept & idea of a bf so i wrote this.

ps. i still can’t believe that men aren’t real :c

It’d become your ritual by now, this endless loop of ‘I love you more’—something you both say especially when you know you’ll miss each other, even if it’s just for a few hours.

Today was no different.

You leaned against the doorway, still wrapped in the warmth of his last hug, and watched him shoot you that adorable smile that always made your heart flutter as he walked backwards away from you.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he said, his voice softer than his playful growing grin suggested as he took another few steps back.

Laughing, you said his name fondly. “We’re literally seeing each other again soon in like… five hours.”

“Yeah, but that's like…” he gently shook his head like you didn’t understand. “…forever.” he added, a small feigned frown forming on his face after.

You rolled your eyes playfully, but with a soft smile, you reminded him, “What matters is that at the end of the day, you’ll be back in my arms.”

And just like that, his expression softened, eyes warm as he took in those words.

“Fine… I love you.” he said as he was taking another step back, and by now, it’s instinctive — so with a deepening smile and a slight scrunch of your nose, you fired it right back at him, no hesitation. “Mmm, I love you more.”

He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head once more as he started toward his car, already knowing where this was headed. “Okay, you know I’m not gonna let you win this one, right?”

“Oh, you just keep telling yourself that babe,” you teased lightly, a warm laugh slipping out.

"Only ‘cause it’s true,” his grin widened as he opened the car door. But before getting in, he lifted his hand to draw a quick heart over his chest, then pointed back at you as his way of saying—it’s all yours. And just to make sure you knew, he added, “That means I love you more."

He got you there, you couldn’t lie. Shaking your head, you decided to let him think he had the last word by nodding and even giving him a little wave as he climbed into the car. Once he settled in, you made a quick and small ‘buckle up’ gesture to remind him to, and he caught it right away. Through the windshield, you could see him mouth a ‘oh oops—yes, ma'am’ before that. And you noticed he never took his eyes off you as he clicked it in place, giving you a double thumbs-up with a boyish grin after.

Still smiling, you lifted your hand, making a little phone gesture by your ear—another silent reminder for him as you also mouthed a, ‘Call me when you get there, okay?’

He laughed, nodding exaggeratedly, as if he had no intention of forgetting as he started the engine. Already, you could feel that warm tug in your chest, the one that happens when you start missing him.

As he starts backing out onto the road, you couldn’t help it — you thought it softly, adding his name with those three words.

And then, as if he somehow heard you, his headlights flashed one—two—three—four times at you with a smile and a wave, just before he fully backed out from the driveway to the road. A quick, unmistakable, quiet message of:

‘I love you too.’

As you stood there waving back to him, your heart grew full when you processed it, a peaceful, quiet joy filling you as you watched him go.

The moment was so tender, because he was pretty much saying, ‘I’ll always find a way to say it back.’

And honestly, you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

After his car had disappeared down the road, you headed back inside the house, settling onto the couch—that same small panging feeling of missing him coming back again. When suddenly, an impulse struck, and with a smirk, you whipped out your phone to quickly type out:

⊹ don’t think i’m letting you off that easily tho babe 🤑 i still love you the most 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

Seeing your text at the next stoplight, he smiled to himself like a fool.

eren. gojo. rafayel. caleb. jean. + your favs !

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koyagifs · 2 months ago

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𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓪𝓾𝓵𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼

pairing: san x nurse!reader ft wooyoung au: strangers to lovers | nurse genre: angst with happy ending word count:13.4k synopsis: he fell first, she fell harder. warning(s): mentions of cancer, character death, grief, hospitals. author note: get your tissues, it's a long one.

San stared at the ceiling tiles, their bland uniformity etched into his memory after a year and a half of treatment. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting uneven shadows across the sterile room. He exhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that had become second nature during these long, grueling sessions.

It was his last day of chemotherapy.

The thought tasted bittersweet. The end of this chapter, yes, but also the end of the routine that had strangely grounded him in the chaos of fighting for his life. A mix of relief, apprehension, and the faintest sliver of hope swirled in his chest.

He glanced down at his wrist, where the IV dripped steadily into his veins, delivering the last of the poison that was somehow saving him. His fingers tightened into a fist, the effort reminding him he was still here—still fighting.

“ doing alright there mr. choi?”

San turned his head, the soft voice pulling him out of his thoughts. The nurse was approaching with a familiar, radiant smile and a small snack in her hand. Her kindness had been a constant through the grueling months, her gentle humor and warm presence something he always looked forward to.

She set the snack down on the tray beside him, brushing her hands off casually. The way her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled made his heart skip a beat. It was a moment—brief, almost imperceptible—but it struck him with an unexpected intensity.

And then, guilt crept in, sharp and unrelenting. He shouldn’t feel this way. He couldn’t. He had a girlfriend—a sweetheart who had stood by his side through every hospital visit, every sleepless night, every doubt and fear. She was his rock, his reason to keep fighting.

So why did he feel this flutter of something unfamiliar whenever he saw you?

San smiled softly, nodding his head as he pushed the thoughts aside. “I’m fine. How are you, Nurse Yn?”

Your name rolled off his tongue with a certain ease, one that felt too familiar for comfort. You paused in your step, turning back toward him with that radiant smile still lighting up your face.

“Me? I’m good,” you replied, leaning slightly against the edge of his chair as you folded your arms. “Though I think I’ll miss seeing you around here, Mr. Choi. It’s not every day I meet someone who’s mastered sarcasm as well as you.”

He chuckled, the sound low and genuine. “It’s a talent. Comes with sitting in these chairs for too long.”

Your laugh joined his, and for a moment, the sterile hospital room felt a little brighter. But there it was again—that flutter in his chest, that traitorous feeling he couldn’t ignore.

you smiled at him sweetly, placing the snacks by his table side. “ congratulations by the way! youre last chemo today.”

San’s lips curved into a shy smile, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of the thin hospital blanket. “Thanks. Feels… surreal, honestly.”

“Oh, come on. I’m sure your girlfriend is ecstatic to have you cancer-free,” you teased lightly, your tone playful yet warm.

San’s smile faltered for the briefest moment, but he quickly masked it with a soft laugh. “Yeah, she is. She’s been my biggest supporter through all of this.”

Your eyes lit up, and you nodded approvingly. “She sounds like a keeper. I’m glad you had someone like that by your side.”

He forced another smile, though your words felt like a subtle jab at the guilt simmering in his chest. Of course, his girlfriend was amazing—loyal, loving, and unwavering in her support. She was everything anyone could ever hope for in a partner.

So why did his heart keep skipping a beat every time you smiled at him like that?

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice quieter. “She really is.”

You didn’t seem to notice the shift in his tone as you gave him a cheerful thumbs-up. “Well, she’ll be thrilled to celebrate this milestone with you. You deserve it, San.”

“Thanks,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the table where the snack you’d brought him sat untouched.

As you turned to tend to another patient, San leaned back in his chair, staring at the same ceiling tiles that had been his constant companions for the past year and a half.

He clenched his jaw, trying to shake off the confusing thoughts. His girlfriend had stood by him through everything. He loved her. He owed her his life.

But when he caught a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye, laughing softly with another patient, he couldn’t help but wonder why you still lingered in his mind.

The doctor shook his girlfriend’s hand firmly, offering her a kind smile before turning to San, who sat slumped in the wheelchair. The nausea was overwhelming, making every movement feel heavier than it should. He didn’t have the strength to walk out of the hospital on his own, and he hated the helplessness of it all.

He felt the jerk of the wheelchair as his girlfriend began to push him toward the exit. The muffled hum of the hospital filled his ears—voices blending together, footsteps echoing faintly, machines beeping in the distance.

And then he heard your voice.

It cut through the noise like a melody he didn’t realize he’d been straining to hear.

San turned his head, his sluggish movements betraying his exhaustion. There you were, standing a few feet away, your smile as bright as ever as you laughed with an elderly patient. You were holding their hand gently, the warmth in your touch evident even from where he sat.

It was such a simple moment, so unremarkable to anyone else. But to San, it felt like time slowed, his chest tightening in a way that had nothing to do with the lingering effects of chemo.

“San?” His girlfriend’s voice pulled him back, her tone laced with concern. “You okay?”

He blinked, tearing his gaze away from you and nodding quickly. “Yeah,” he said, his voice barely audible. “Just… tired.”

She gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Let’s get you home.”

San leaned back in the wheelchair, closing his eyes as they moved toward the exit. But no matter how hard he tried, the sound of your laugh and the image of your radiant smile refused to leave his mind.

“Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Choi!”

Your voice rang out, clear and bright, cutting through the muffled haze of the hospital sounds. It echoed just enough to draw attention, and San felt his heart thump loudly in his chest.

He couldn’t stop himself from glancing back over his shoulder, his tired eyes landing on you. You were walking toward them with that same warm smile, clipboard in hand, your steps light and purposeful.

San’s girlfriend stopped pushing the wheelchair and turned to face you. “Oh, hi!” she said cheerfully, her voice tinged with gratitude. “Thank you so much for taking care of San. You’ve been such a blessing.”

You waved off the compliment modestly, laughing softly. “It’s my job, really. But seeing patients like San make it all worth it. He’s been incredible through this whole process.”

San swallowed hard, your words making something twist in his chest. He wanted to respond, to thank you properly, but the lump in his throat made it impossible to speak. Instead, he nodded slightly, offering you a small, tired smile.

“I’m so glad he’s finished,” you continued, glancing at him with a sparkle of pride in your eyes. “You’ve fought so hard, Mr. Choi. You should be really proud of yourself.”

His girlfriend beamed, squeezing his shoulder again. “I know I’m proud of him.”

San forced another smile, the warmth of her words clashing with the flutter in his chest as he looked at you. You weren’t supposed to make him feel this way, but the way you smiled, the way your voice seemed to carry so much light—it was almost impossible not to.

“Well,” you said after a moment, stepping back slightly, “I won’t keep you. Just wanted to say goodbye and wish you all the best. Take care, Mr. Choi.”

“Thank you,” he finally managed, his voice raspy but sincere.

You gave one last cheerful wave before turning to head back down the hall, your presence leaving a lingering warmth in the air.

As his girlfriend started pushing the wheelchair again, San leaned back, staring up at the ceiling tiles. His chest felt heavy, but his heart… his heart was still racing.

When you walked back to the nurses’ station, a small sigh escaped your lips as you set down the clipboard and started organizing the files scattered across the desk. You barely had a moment to gather your thoughts before one of your colleagues sidled up beside you, a sly grin already plastered on their face.

“Sad Mr. Lover Boy is gone, hm?” they teased, their tone dripping with playful mischief.

Rolling your eyes, you turned to your colleague with a faint laugh. "So not appropriate, Jen," you said, shaking your head.

Jen smirked, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed. "Oh, come on. I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking. Mr. Lover Boy had heart eyes for you."

Another colleague joined in, grinning. "She’s not wrong, you know. The guy practically lit up whenever you walked into the room."

You groaned, covering your face with your hands for a moment. "He’s a patient. A patient with a girlfriend, I might add. That’s the end of it."

Jen shrugged, still grinning. "Hey, I didn’t say you did anything wrong. But you can’t deny the connection. Even she noticed it—did you see how tight her grip was on his wheelchair?”

Your blush deepened, and you waved them off. "Alright, that’s enough gossip for today. Go do something useful!"

They laughed but eventually dispersed, leaving you alone at the station. You leaned against the counter, taking a deep breath as you stared at the hallway where you’d last seen San.

Their words swirled in your mind, unwelcome and unsettling. You told yourself it didn’t matter. San was gone, and so was the strange fluttering feeling you’d tucked away every time you saw him.

At least, that’s what you hoped.

Yn let out a sigh of relief as she finally slipped into the driver’s seat of her car. The tension from the long day began to melt away as she leaned back against the seat, letting the quiet hum of the vehicle surround her. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she reached up and pulled down the visor.

There it was—the photo she always kept tucked into the little slot. You and Wooyoung, beaming at the camera, his arm thrown casually around your shoulders. The memory of that day warmed your heart, and for a moment, the heaviness of the day’s events didn’t feel so overwhelming.

“Another day, Woo,” you murmured, your smile widening as your fingertips brushed the edge of the photo. “Another day down.”

The thought of him brought a sense of comfort, grounding you in a way nothing else could. No matter how chaotic or emotional your workday had been, Wooyoung was your constant—a reminder. Your motive to continue.

As you pulled into the driveway and cut the engine, a sigh of relief left your lips. Home. Finally. The day had been long, draining in ways you didn’t expect, and all you wanted now was to collapse onto the couch and let yourself unwind.

But just as your hand reached for the door handle, the sharp ring of your phone broke the silence, making you groan aloud. You fished it out of your bag, your thumb hovering over the screen as you debated ignoring it.

Of course, it was work. You glanced at the caller ID and let out another groan, already bracing yourself for whatever crisis couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

With a resigned sigh, you answered, pressing the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Yn, hey—it’s Jen,” came the familiar voice, slightly rushed but apologetic. “Sorry to call you so late, but we’ve got a bit of an issue.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling the remnants of your energy slipping away. “What’s going on?”

“One of the patients from earlier today—Mr. Choi—he had a follow-up appointment scheduled, but there’s been a mix-up with his paperwork. The doctor’s asking if you could clarify a few things since you were the last one to update his chart.”

San. His name alone was enough to make your stomach twist, though you quickly shook it off. “Right now?”

“Yeah, I know it’s late, but it’s just a quick question. Won’t take more than a minute, I promise.”

You exhaled slowly, already unlocking the car door to grab your work bag from the passenger seat. “Alright, give me a second to find the notes. Hold on.”

As you rifled through your bag, you couldn’t help but feel a strange pang in your chest. Of all the patients they could have called you about, it had to be him.

As you rifled through your bag, flipping past loose papers and half-empty pens, you couldn’t ignore the strange pang in your chest. Of all the patients they could have called you about, it had to be him.

San.

His name lingered in your mind like an echo, stirring up a mix of emotions you weren’t sure you wanted to unpack. You tried to focus on the task at hand, pulling out the small notebook where you jotted down quick notes throughout the day.

“Got it,” you said into the phone, flipping through the pages. “What do they need to know?”

Jen hummed on the other end, her tone shifting to something a little lighter. “They’re just wondering if you remember updating his discharge instructions. The system’s showing a discrepancy, and the doc doesn’t want him leaving without proper follow-up care.”

Your brow furrowed as you scanned your notes. You could picture the moment clearly—his tired eyes, the soft thanks in his voice as you handed him the folder. “Yeah, I gave him the instructions. Everything’s in his folder. Maybe there was a system glitch?”

“Figures,” Jen muttered. “Alright, I’ll let them know. Sorry to bother you with this.”

You let out a soft hum of acknowledgment before ending the call, slipping your phone back into your bag. The day felt impossibly long as you stepped out of the car, the cool evening air brushing against your skin. With a deep breath, you walked toward your front door, fumbling for your keys.

As you unlocked the door and stepped inside, the familiar comfort of home wrapped around you like a warm blanket. The faint scent of lavender from the diffuser greeted you, and the soft hum of the fridge in the quiet kitchen was oddly soothing.

Dropping your bag onto the nearest chair, you kicked off your shoes and let out a long sigh. The weight of the day pressed on you, but it was a relief to finally be in your own space.

You wandered to the living room, flipping on a dim lamp before collapsing onto the couch. Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to shake the lingering thoughts of work—and of him.

But as much as you wanted to let it all fade, the image of San’s tired yet grateful smile flashed in your mind. You groaned softly, running a hand through your hair.

“Get a grip, Yn,” you muttered to yourself. “He’s just a patient. That’s all.”

Still, no matter how many times you told yourself that, the flutter in your chest refused to subside.

San lay sprawled on the couch, his body heavy with exhaustion. The nausea from earlier had subsided, but the lingering weariness of the day clung to him like a fog. The television flickered in front of him, playing some sitcom he wasn’t paying attention to.

The rustling sounds from the kitchen broke the stillness, his girlfriend moving about as she prepared something—tea, maybe, or a light snack. She had insisted he rest, taking over the household tasks without complaint, but San felt detached, like he was watching the scene unfold from outside himself.

His gaze stayed fixed on the screen, though his mind was far away.

The sound of your voice lingered in his memory, soft and warm, echoing with an unshakable clarity. He had tried to brush it off, tried to focus on the relief of being done with chemo and the unwavering support of his girlfriend. But no matter how much he fought it, you kept creeping back into his thoughts.

“San?”

His girlfriend’s voice snapped him out of his daze. He blinked, turning his head toward her. She stood at the edge of the couch, a steaming mug in her hands and concern etched across her face.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her tone gentle. “You’ve been really quiet.”

San forced a small smile, sitting up slightly. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice raspier than he intended. “Just tired, that’s all.”

She gave him a soft nod, setting the mug down on the coffee table in front of him. “That’s to be expected. It’s been a big day.”

He hummed in agreement, leaning back against the cushions as she sat down beside him. Her hand rested lightly on his knee, a gesture of comfort that he appreciated but couldn’t quite reciprocate in the way she deserved.

“That nurse—she was overly friendly, don’t you think?” his girlfriend said, her voice casual but tinged with something more as she sipped the tea she had just made.

San’s eyes opened slowly, his expression neutral as he glanced at her. He wasn’t sure how to respond at first, the words catching him off guard.

“She’s just kind,” he said after a beat, his tone even. “That’s her job.”

His girlfriend raised an eyebrow, setting the mug down on the table. “Kind, sure. But the way she was talking to you… it felt a little much, don’t you think?”

San shook his head, the weight of the conversation pressing on him. "Love, she was just doing her job," he said, his voice quieter now, trying to end the discussion before it went any further.

But his girlfriend rolled her eyes, clearly not convinced. "Tsk, but when the other nurses came in and checked by—"

"Please, Sumin," San interrupted, a bit more forcefully now. "We're supposed to be celebrating. Why are we bringing up the nurse?"

Sumin paused, taken aback by the tone in his voice. She stared at him for a moment, as though trying to read the shift in his demeanor, but after a beat, she sighed and leaned back against the couch.

"Alright, alright. We’ll drop it," she muttered, taking another sip of her tea. Her gaze softened as she watched him, noticing the way he’d suddenly withdrawn into himself. "I just... I don’t know, San. I don’t like the way she was looking at you."

San let out a long breath, running a hand over his face as he tried to calm the bubbling frustration inside. The conversation had shifted in a direction he hadn’t wanted, and the weight of it all felt heavier than he’d expected. He just wanted to relax, to unwind, but his mind kept returning to you, to the lingering impression your kindness had left on him.

Sumin huffed, clearly irritated with the tension. She stood up abruptly, her phone in hand as she moved toward the other side of the room. The air between them grew colder, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the silence.

San glanced over at her, a mix of guilt and frustration stirring in his chest. He didn’t want to fight, didn’t want to make her feel insecure or misunderstood. But something about your presence, the way you’d looked at him, kept tugging at him, and it was hard to ignore.

Sumin’s voice cut through the quiet, distant but sharp. “I’m just going to check my social media. Let me know if you need anything.” Her tone was stiff, a hint of coldness lacing her words as she sat down, her attention fully absorbed by her phone.

San didn’t reply right away. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, not just between him and Sumin, but within himself. The ache in his chest, the confusion swirling in his thoughts—it was all a lot to handle, and it left him staring at the TV, the images flickering past without any real meaning.

San leaned against the shopping cart, absently pushing it forward as he followed Sumin down the aisles of the store. The soft, almost monotonous hum of the background music drifted through the air, blending with the occasional clink of other shoppers' carts.

He glanced around, half-heartedly scanning the shelves but not really seeing anything. Sumin, on the other hand, seemed fully focused on the task at hand, picking out items with a sense of purpose. Her steps were quick, her eyes scanning the shelves for whatever it was she had on her list, while San moved more slowly, trailing behind her as his thoughts wandered.

" oh? Mr. and Mrs. choi?"

San froze, his hand pausing on the shopping cart as a voice called out to them.

He looked up, immediately recognizing the voice—and the face that belonged to it. You stood a few feet away, holding a basket in your hands, a bright smile on your face as you glanced between San and Sumin. The unexpected sight of you in the store caught him off guard, sending a rush of warmth to his cheeks, despite the fact that he tried to hide it behind a neutral expression.

Sumin, ever perceptive, narrowed her eyes slightly at the sight of you, but she quickly masked any reaction, giving you a polite smile.

"Yn," San whispered under his breath, the name slipping from his lips before he could stop it. His mind was racing, and the sight of you had thrown him off balance in ways he couldn’t quite explain. The way your smile had made his heart flutter, how your presence lingered even after you had walked away—he couldn’t shake it.

Sumin’s eyes burned with a quiet but unmistakable anger as she stared at you, her gaze sharp and unyielding. She shifted her focus back to San, her expression tense as she spoke under her breath, but her eyes never left you for long.

You, sensing the shift in the air, offered a polite, friendly smile, trying to keep the interaction light. “Glad to see you up and around, Mr. Choi,” you said with a warm tone, but there was a subtle distance in your posture as you sensed the tension between them.

San felt the heat rise in his chest as he caught the brief but intense exchange. He could feel the awkwardness radiating from both Sumin and you, and he wasn’t sure how to bridge the gap without making things worse.

He glanced at Sumin, her jaw clenched as she stood rigid beside him, and then back to you, who had taken a slight step back, as if to create more space between them.

Trying to ease the growing discomfort, San cleared his throat. "Yeah, I’m just happy to be out and about," he said, forcing a lightness into his voice. "It’s been a long road, but things are getting back to normal."

You nodded, your smile never wavering. “I’m happy to hear that, Mr. Choi. You deserve a break after everything.” Your eyes flickered briefly to Sumin before returning to San, sensing the quiet tension that was beginning to hang between the three of you.

" well, san and i -"

" noona you disappeared on me!" the boy said, his voice filled with a playful tone, his small hands tugging gently at your sleeve.

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart lifting at the sight of him. "Oh, hey, bud. Sorry," you said, crouching down to his level to meet his eager eyes. "I didn’t mean to leave you waiting. You ready to go?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically, his grin wide as he bounced on his feet. His presence immediately lightened the tension that had been simmering around you. You glanced back at San and Sumin, the momentary shift in attention allowing you to break the uncomfortable silence.

Sumin, however, wasn’t as quick to let go of her earlier judgment. She glanced at you with a raised eyebrow, her gaze flicking back to San. There was a strained tension between her smile and the coolness in her eyes, but she said nothing more, her focus moving to the small boy by your side.

San’s heart skipped a beat as he watched the small boy tug at your sleeve, a sudden realization making his chest tighten. The boy had called you "Ynie," which wasn’t an uncommon nickname for someone who was close to a child, but the way he’d looked up at you, with such familiarity and affection—it left San wondering.

Is he yours?

The question lingered in his mind, but the thought felt impossible to entertain. If the boy were yours, surely he would’ve called you something else, like eomma—Instead, you seemed to be nothing but a caretaker, a kind presence in the boy’s life, but nothing more.

You waved goodbye to San and his girlfriend, offering a polite smile despite the lingering tension you could feel in the air. The small boy beside you was still beaming, his energy infectious as he tugged at your hand, eager to get going.

“Let’s go, noona!” he chirped, his excitement making it easy to forget the uncomfortable encounter. You couldn’t help but smile down at him, your heart lightening at the sight of his innocence and joy.

“Alright, bud. Let’s go home,” you said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as you steered him toward the checkout. You could still feel San’s gaze on you from behind, but you quickly pushed that feeling aside. There was no reason to dwell on it, no reason to let it distract you.

The boy chattered away as you moved through the aisles, his innocent questions and thoughts filling the space around you. You gave him your full attention, smiling and nodding as you helped him pick out a treat at the counter. But even as you interacted with him, your mind kept drifting back to the encounter with San—how his presence had made your heart race and how his distracted gaze had lingered on you longer than it should have.

As you arrived home, Jun's energy was practically overflowing. He raced inside ahead of you, bouncing up and down with excitement as he bolted for the door. "I’m hungry, noona! Can we have the snacks now?" he asked, his voice full of enthusiasm.

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you followed behind, the bag of groceries hanging loosely in your hand. "Hold on there, kiddo," you said, playfully trying to catch up to him. "Let me at least get the groceries inside before we have a snack party."

Jun pouted but gave in, following you to the kitchen with his usual boundless energy. "You take too long," he teased as you set the bags on the counter.

"Patience, Jun," you teased back, starting to unpack the groceries. "You know we need to get everything ready first."

Jun crossed his arms, a mock serious expression on his face. "I was born with patience," he declared dramatically, causing you to chuckle.

You smiled, setting aside the groceries as you started to sort out the snacks he’d been asking for. " if you're anything like your father was, then absolutely not." you said, your voice light with amusement as you began to pull out the snacks he’d been eager to get his hands on.

Jun’s eyes widened, a grin spreading across his face as he eagerly leaned forward. "I’m nothing like appa" he protested, shaking his head dramatically.

You smiled, squatting to his level as you ruffled his hair, " weither you like it or not bud, you're exactly like your appa."

Jun’s eyes searched your face, his smile softening as the question lingered between you. "Do you think appa is proud of me?" he asked again, his voice quieter this time, almost vulnerable.

Your heart ached at the weight of his words, the pain in his small voice that he tried so hard to hide behind that brave little smile. You kneeled down to his level, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face as you spoke softly, your own heart swelling with a mix of love and sadness.

"The proudest father in the world, baby," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "Your appa would be so proud of you. Everything you do, every step you take… he’s watching over you, and I know he’s so proud of the person you're becoming."

Jun’s eyes shimmered for a moment, a mix of hope and longing in his gaze. He didn’t say anything at first, just wrapped his arms around you in a quiet hug. You held him close, your heart full of love as you gently pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

"You’re everything to him," you added quietly, holding him tighter. "And I promise, he’s proud of you every day."

Jun held on for a few moments longer, his small body pressed against yours, as if seeking comfort in your words. Eventually, he pulled away slightly, wiping at his eyes before giving you a sheepish smile.

"Thanks, Ynie," he said softly, his voice returning to its usual tone, though there was a vulnerability in it that hadn’t been there before.

⋆ ˚♡｡⋆˚𐙚 flashback ~

You stood by the window, a soft smile spreading across your face as you watched Wooyoung and Jun in the backyard. The sound of their laughter filled the air, light and carefree, a beautiful reminder of how much joy they brought into each other’s lives. Wooyoung was pushing Jun on the swing, his playful voice carrying over to you.

"Higher, appa! Higher!" Jun’s excited shout made you chuckle, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell at the sight of them.

Wooyoung laughed, pushing the swing higher, his grin wide as he looked up at Jun. "You sure about that, bud?" he teased, his voice full of affection. "You might fly off at this rate!"

Jun laughed even harder, his small hands gripping the chains tightly as he soared back and forth. "I’m not scared!" he shouted, his voice filled with pure joy. "I trust you, appa!"

You made your way to the screen door, opening it with your hip as you wiped your hands on the towel. The scent of dinner still lingered in the air, mixing with the fresh breeze from outside.

"Boys, dinner is done!" you called out, your voice carrying over to where Wooyoung and Jun were still playing in the backyard.

Jun’s head whipped around immediately, his eyes lighting up. "Dinner!" he shouted excitedly, and before you could even blink, he was darting toward the door.

Wooyoung turned to follow him, laughing. "Guess we’ve got a hungry one here," he teased, shaking his head. He gave Jun a playful nudge before walking toward you, his eyes filled with warmth.

You felt a warm smile tug at your lips as Wooyoung placed a soft kiss on yours, his hand brushing gently against your cheek. "Thanks for making dinner," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of affection that made your heart flutter.

"Someone has to keep this little family fed, right?"

You smiled at Wooyoung’s words as you moved toward the table. His gaze was warm, full of unspoken understanding. "Excited to tell him?" he asked, his voice soft but carrying an edge of curiosity.

You nodded, a rush of emotions stirring within you as you glanced over at Jun, who was eagerly waiting for you to sit down. There was a sense of anticipation building in your chest, the moment finally arriving where you’d share something important with both of them. Something that would change everything.

As you moved towards the chair, Wooyoung was already there, pulling it out for you with a gentle smile. "Always the gentleman," you teased lightly, settling into the chair. He grinned, a flicker of pride in his eyes as he gave you a small wink.

You took a deep breath, meeting his eyes for a brief moment, before turning to Jun. "So, bud," you began, your voice warm yet full of meaning, "there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you."

Jun’s eyes lit up with curiosity, the playful glint in his gaze giving way to genuine attention. "What is it,noona?" he asked, his voice full of eagerness.

Just as you were about to speak, Wooyoung began to cough aggressively. Your eyes widened in panic as Wooyoung’s coughs became more violent, his hand instinctively reaching up to his chest as he gasped for air. His face turned slightly pale, and for a moment, you could feel your heart stop in your chest.

Your heart raced as you rushed over to Wooyoung, your hands trembling as you reached him. But just as you were about to help, everything seemed to blur for a moment. Wooyoung's face was contorted in pain, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps, and his body stiffened as though he was struggling to hold on.

"Wooyoung!" you cried out, your voice breaking with panic. The last thing wooyoung saw was you reaching out to him as Jun wails pierced the air.

" san it's so obvious you like her! Just tell me so we can get this relationship over with!" Sumin cried out.

" fine, i do sumin happy?! " San said, walking away.

Sumin scoffed, grabbing her purse with a sharp motion, her hands trembling with frustration. "You’re unbelievable," she muttered under her breath, as she stormed toward the door. She spun around just before exiting, throwing a final glance at San.

"Fine," she said, her voice cold and brittle, "if that’s how you want it, then so be it."

San stopped in his tracks, but he didn’t turn around. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his chest tight with anger and regret. He couldn’t believe it had come to this—everything had felt like it was falling apart, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

"Goodbye, Sumin," he said, his voice quieter than he intended. "I’m sorry."

Without another word, Sumin slammed the door behind her. The sound of it echoed in the empty apartment, leaving San standing in silence, his mind racing.

He couldn’t deny the pang in his chest. He had hurt her. He knew he had. But his heart was telling him something different now. And for the first time in a long while, he was left with a deep sense of uncertainty about everything that had once felt so sure.

San stared at the phone in his hand, the hospital’s number still flashing on the screen. His fingers hovered over the call button, his heart racing with uncertainty. It hadn’t even been a full day since Sumin left, and here he was, grappling with the weight of his decisions. The tension between him and Sumin had reached its breaking point, and now, the silence that followed felt like an echo of everything he had been avoiding.

But in this moment, his mind kept drifting back to you. He had tried to ignore the way his heart raced every time you crossed his mind, the pull toward you that he could no longer push aside. He couldn’t deny it anymore. No more distractions, no more pretending.

He wasn't ready to jump straight into something new, but the thought of seeing you again, hearing your voice without the barriers of work and the hospital—it felt like a chance to breathe. A chance to find out where things could go without the weight of his past decisions holding him back.

His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment longer before he exhaled slowly. No hospitals, no needles. Just you and me. The thought grounded him, the promise of something simpler, something real.

With a deep breath, he pressed the call button, the sound of the phone ringing in his ear as he waited. Each passing second felt heavier than the last.

" something hospital - how can i help you?" the voice said over the line.

" can i leave a message for nurse yn?"

You stepped into the nurse's office, the familiar scent of antiseptic filling the air. Your eyes immediately went to the desk, where a note was placed neatly in the center, its presence unusual and out of place. You frowned, the confusion evident on your face as you scanned the room. No one was around—just the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights above.

Curiosity piqued, you walked over to the desk and picked up the note. It was simple, the handwriting neat and deliberate.

choi san xxx-xxx-xxxx

You stared at the note in your hand, the name Choi San and the number written underneath it standing out starkly. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt a mix of surprise and confusion flood over you. The familiarity of the name sent a jolt through your chest, though you couldn’t quite place why.

" told ya~"

Jen’s teasing voice broke through the tension, and you couldn’t help but blush, feeling a bit caught off guard. She handed you one of the cups of coffee with a knowing grin, as if she had seen this coming all along.

You felt a nervous chuckle escape your lips, trying to hide your embarrassment behind the steam of the coffee. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammered, your cheeks still warm. The note had thrown you off balance, and Jen’s teasing only made it worse.

Jen raised an eyebrow, not missing a beat. “Come on, babe. The way you looked at that note, the way your face lit up when you saw his name… I’m not blind, you know.”

You sighed, taking a sip of your coffee to hide your flustered expression, but there was no escaping Jen’s sharp eye. She had always been able to read you like a book.

“I’m just… confused,” you muttered, staring at the note in your hands again. “I don’t even know why he’d send me this.”

Jen shrugged, her smile softening as she leaned against the counter. “Maybe he just wants to talk. Maybe he needs something from you. You never know what’s going on in his head.”

You chewed on the inside of your lip, still unsure what to make of the situation. Your thoughts were a mix of curiosity and hesitation. You hadn’t expected to hear from him again, especially not this way.

“Do you think I should call him?” you asked, your voice quiet.

Jen took another sip of her coffee, giving you a knowing look. “If you want answers, you’ll have to find out. But don’t let him catch you off guard, okay? You deserve to know what’s going on.”

Her words hung in the air, and you nodded slowly, the decision weighing heavily on your mind.

You sat down heavily, the sticky note in one hand and your phone in the other. Your gaze flicked back to the framed picture you always turned to after long shifts—Wooyoung’s bright, carefree smile staring back at you, a bittersweet reminder of the life you had built and the love you had lost.

Your thumb hovered over the phone screen, the number scrawled on the note replaying in your mind. Choi San. The name felt heavier now, layered with the weight of questions you didn’t know how to ask.

You glanced back at Wooyoung’s photo, as if silently seeking guidance. His grin seemed as warm as ever, a comforting presence that had always grounded you. What would you say, Woo? What would you want me to do?

The thought only made your chest ache more. You had moved forward, for Jun, for yourself—but had you really opened your heart again? This note, this unexpected reach from someone you never thought would step into your life like this, was testing that resolve in ways you hadn’t prepared for.

Taking a shaky breath, you fumbled with your phone, typing in the number slowly. Your heart raced with every digit, your mind cycling through what-ifs. What if this was nothing? What if it was something? What if you weren’t ready for the answers?

You stared at the number on the screen for a long moment before pressing the call button, your breath hitching as the line began to ring.

On the third ring, the call connected. A quiet rustling came through the line before his voice filled your ear, soft and hesitant.

“Hello?” San said, his tone carrying a mix of uncertainty and warmth that sent a jolt through your chest.

Your breath hitched, the sound of his voice catching you off guard. It had been so long since you’d heard it outside the structured confines of the hospital, and yet it was unmistakably him.

“Hi… San,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. You cleared your throat quickly, trying to shake the nerves threatening to overwhelm you. “It’s… it’s Yn.”

There was a brief pause, but you could hear the faint exhale of relief on the other end.

“I was hoping you’d call,” he admitted quietly. “I—uh—left the note. I wasn’t sure if you’d… you know, want to.”

You blinked, gripping the phone tighter as his words settled in. “Why wouldn’t I?” you asked softly, though your heart raced at the vulnerability in his tone. “What’s going on, San?”

There was another pause, as if he were gathering his thoughts. When he finally spoke again, his voice was quieter, more tentative.

“I needed to talk to you,” he said. “Not as a patient. Just… me. I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh, San, I’m not sure that’s—” you began, hesitation lacing your voice.

“Please?” he interrupted, his voice gentle but filled with an urgency that tugged at your heart. “Just… hear me out. That’s all I’m asking.”

You hesitated, your gaze falling on the photo of Wooyoung again. His smile seemed to encourage you, as if silently reminding you of the strength you carried through everything.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes for a moment before responding. “Alright, San. I’ll hear you out. What’s on your mind?”

The line went silent for a second, but you could hear him exhale softly, as if the weight of your agreement gave him a sliver of relief.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone sincere. “Can we meet? Somewhere outside the hospital. I just… need to talk to you in person.”

Your grip on the phone tightened slightly. Meeting him felt like stepping into uncharted territory, but there was something in his voice—something genuine, almost vulnerable—that made it hard to say no.

“Okay,” you finally said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “Where and when?”

A pause, then San replied, “There’s a coffee shop near the park. Tomorrow afternoon, if that works for you?”

You nodded to yourself, already feeling the weight of the decision. “I’ll be there,” you said softly.

San sat at a corner table in the cozy coffee shop, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the napkin in front of him. The gentle hum of conversations around him and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee should have been comforting, but all he could focus on was the growing knot of nerves in his stomach.

He glanced at the time on his phone for what felt like the hundredth time. You weren’t late—if anything, he’d arrived too early—but the anticipation was eating at him. His mind replayed every possible outcome of this meeting, from the worst-case scenarios to the faint glimmer of hope that you’d understand why he’d reached out.

The barista called out an order, and San glanced toward the door, half expecting to see you walk in. When you weren’t there, he exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made a mistake. Was this too soon? Was he crossing a line?

Yet, amidst all the doubts, the memory of your kindness kept him rooted to the spot. The way you’d looked at him, spoken to him, treated him like more than just another patient—it had stayed with him, giving him a sense of connection he hadn’t felt in a long time.

As San shifted in his seat, he spotted the same little boy from the other day, the one who had called you noona in the store. His heart skipped a beat, recognizing the familiar figure, and his eyes followed the boy as he walked in, hand in hand with you.

"Come on, sweetie, let’s sit down, and I’ll get you your drink, okay?" you said softly, your voice full of warmth and care as you guided the boy to a nearby table. He nodded eagerly, eyes wide with excitement as he followed your lead.

San’s throat tightened, his thoughts racing. Is he yours? He couldn’t help but wonder, the sight of you and the boy together stirring a whirl of emotions in his chest. The boy wasn’t calling you “eomma,” but the bond between the two of you was undeniable, and it only added to the questions swirling in his mind.

You glanced over at San, catching his gaze as you sat the boy down. There was a moment of awkwardness, a flicker of realization in your eyes as you seemed to register that he had seen you with the boy. You smiled gently, though there was a touch of hesitation behind it.

“Sorry, I hope it’s okay if he sits with us for a bit,” you said, walking back over to San’s table. " the babysitter canceled last minute."

San nodded, trying to keep his composure, but the curiosity burned in the back of his mind. “Of course, it’s fine,” he said, his voice a little softer than usual. He glanced at the boy again, then back at you. “Is… he yours?”

The boy looked up briefly at San, his eyes curious but friendly, before diving back into his coloring. You took the seat across from San, giving the boy a quick glance to ensure he was comfortable before turning your attention back to the man in front of you.

Your smile faltered for a second, but you shook your head gently. “No,” you answered, your voice calm. “He’s not mine. it's complicated."

San nodded slowly, his gaze shifting between you and the boy as he absorbed your words. “Complicated,” he echoed softly, his curiosity clearly piqued but restrained.

The boy seemed oblivious to the conversation, his focus entirely on the colorful swirls and shapes he was creating in his book. The sight brought a faint smile to San’s face, though his mind was racing with questions he wasn’t sure he should ask.

" i can stay here with him while you order your drink? i don't mind," San said softly.

You smiled, " thanks, i'll be quick. "

San watched as you stood up, giving him a grateful smile before heading toward the counter to place your order. Once you were out of earshot, his attention shifted to the boy, who was still engrossed in his coloring.

“Hi there,” San said softly, leaning slightly forward in his chair. “What are you working on?”

The boy glanced up, his eyes bright with curiosity. “A dragon,” he said proudly, holding up the page for San to see. The crude but colorful sketch of a dragon filled the page, its wings stretching wide and its tail curling at the bottom.

“Wow,” San said, his smile widening. “That’s a really cool dragon. What’s his name?”

The boy tapped his chin thoughtfully, then grinned. “Jun. Like me!”

San chuckled, nodding. “That’s a perfect name for a dragon. You must be pretty brave if you named him after yourself.”

Jun straightened up in his chair, puffing out his chest a little. “I’m the bravest! No dragon is scarier than me.”

“Is that so?” San replied, amused by the boy’s confidence. “Well, it looks like Jun the Dragon is lucky to have such a brave friend.”

Jun beamed at the compliment and went back to his coloring, clearly pleased. San leaned back slightly, his gaze softening as he watched the boy for a moment. There was something endearing about his energy and innocence, and it was easy to see why you cared for him so much.

When you returned, drink in hand, you caught the tail end of their interaction. “I see you two are getting along,” you said, a hint of amusement in your voice as you sat back down.

San smiled at you, his expression warm. “He’s a great kid,” he said sincerely. “And he’s got some serious dragon-drawing skills.”

Jun grinned, holding up his masterpiece for you to see. “Look, noona! hyung said it’s cool!”

You hummed in acknowledgment, smoothing Jun’s hair gently as he returned to his coloring, his small hands moving confidently over the page. Then, shifting your attention back to San, you asked softly, “Why did you want to meet today?”

San hesitated, his fingers lightly drumming on the edge of the table as he seemed to weigh his words. “I guess… I wanted to talk to you outside of the hospital,” he said finally, his voice quiet but earnest.

Your brow furrowed slightly, your gaze searching his face. “Talk about what?”

He took a breath, his gaze dropping to the table for a moment before meeting yours again. “About everything,” he admitted. “About how much you helped me. How much you mattered during… everything I went through. I don’t think I ever really said thank you. Not properly.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the depth of his words. “San,” you began, shaking your head lightly, “you don’t have to thank me. I was just doing my job.”

“It wasn’t just your job,” he insisted, his tone firmer now. “You made me feel like I wasn’t just a patient. Like I was still a person, even when I felt like everything else in my life was falling apart.”

Your lips parted slightly, but no words came. The sincerity in his voice, the vulnerability in his eyes—it left you momentarily speechless.

“You didn’t give me the pity eyes that everyone else did,” he said, his voice softer now but no less heartfelt. “Like I was going to die in the next few hours. You… you made me feel normal, which I hadn’t felt since I lost my hair.”

Your heart ached at his confession, the weight of his vulnerability settling between you. For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond.

“San,” you finally said, your tone gentle. He smiled faintly, his fingers tracing an invisible pattern on the table.

" and ... i fell for you yn."

The words hung in the air, like a quiet confession that shifted the atmosphere around you. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You hadn’t expected that, not in the slightest.

“San,” you whispered, your voice softer now, a mix of surprise and something else stirring inside of you. You searched his eyes for any hint of doubt, but all you found was sincerity—raw and unguarded.

He gave a small, almost apologetic shrug, as if to make light of the weight of what he’d just said. “I know it’s probably not the right time,” he added, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty, “but it’s the truth. I’ve been trying to figure out how to say it without making things complicated, but…” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the table, the vulnerability in his eyes deepening.

You felt a lump form in your throat, unsure of how to respond. This was unexpected—more than you were prepared for. You had always been so careful, so focused on keeping things simple, especially with Jun around.

Jun, completely oblivious to the quiet tension, looked up from his coloring with a big grin. “Noona, do you think my dragon could fly?”

You chuckled softly, trying to steady your racing thoughts. “Of course it can fly, bud. Dragons can do anything.” You glanced at San, your heart still racing.

" i know , i know we barely know each other but please. I would love to get to know you," San said softly.

You took a slow breath, feeling a mix of emotions stirring inside of you. His words were sincere, and there was an earnestness in his tone that made your heart flutter, despite the hesitations you had. You hadn’t expected this from San—this openness, this vulnerability.

"I get it, San," you began, your voice gentle, "and I’m flattered. Truly. But things are complicated right now, with Jun and everything…" You trailed off, unsure of how to explain the whirlwind of thoughts in your head. You hadn’t even considered the possibility of something more with him, not when you were still healing from past wounds, and not when your life revolved around caring for Jun.

" and i'd love to get to know jun too," San smiled, holding his hand out.

You looked at San's outstretched hand, feeling the weight of his words settle in your chest. The sincerity in his eyes was undeniable, and there was a warmth to his smile that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, things could work out.

Jun, who had been engrossed in his coloring, looked up at the mention of his name. His curiosity piqued, he glanced at you, then at San, before slowly nodding his head. "You wanna be my friend too?" he asked, his voice sweet and innocent.

San chuckled softly, crouching down to Jun's level. "I’d love to be your friend, Jun," he said, his voice gentle, extending his hand to him.

Jun’s eyes brightened, and after a brief moment of hesitation, he reached out, shaking San’s hand enthusiastically. "Okay! You can help me with my dragon, then!"

You smiled at the exchange, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you. Watching San interact with Jun so easily, with such genuine care, made something inside of you shift, even more so than his words had. It was one thing to say he wanted to get to know you, but showing kindness to Jun, without hesitation, felt like something entirely different.

"Deal," San said, his voice light with amusement. "I’m an expert on dragons."

Jun giggled, turning back to his coloring book. "I’m gonna make him fly across the sky!"

You couldn’t help but laugh at Jun’s enthusiasm, your heart swelling with something you hadn’t expected. Maybe this could work—maybe there was something here worth exploring.

With a soft smile, you looked back at San, meeting his gaze. He smiled at you, and you swore you heart flutter.

You paced in your kitchen floor, your mind racing with thoughts. Jun’s soft humming from the table, and his grandmother beside him.

"Yn, darling, you've been pacing for hours. Come sit down, you're making me dizzy." a gentle smile on her face as she sipped her tea.

You paused, guilt flickering in your chest. "Sorry, Mrs. Jung," you muttered, leaning against the counter. Your gaze drifted to Jun, who was completely absorbed in his drawing.

"Sweetheart," Mrs. Jung began, setting her cup down on the table. " what's wrong?"

You let out a long breath, trying to gather your thoughts as you looked at Mrs. Jung, her eyes full of concern. You had always been able to talk to her, but right now, the words felt like they were stuck in your throat.

" i'm nervous. I haven't gone on a date since woo and -" your breathe hitched as Mrs. jung gave a knowing smile.

" hey bud, why don't you go and watch tv for a bit hm?" Mrs. Jung said, picking up Jun from the chair.

You watched as Mrs. Jung gently carried Jun to the living room, her movements calm and steady as she set him down with a soft pat on the head. Jun didn’t seem to notice the shift in the room as he scampered off to the TV, humming to himself as the sounds of cartoons began to fill the house.

Once they were out of earshot, Mrs. Jung returned to the kitchen, her eyes soft with understanding. "It’s normal to feel nervous, sweetheart," she said, her voice gentle but firm. " wooyoung would of wanted you to go on this date."

Your breath caught at the mention of Wooyoung’s name. It had been so long since you’d allowed yourself to think about him in such a way, and hearing his name spoken so gently from Mrs. Jung’s lips made the flood of emotions inside you hard to contain.

You exhaled shakily, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to rise. "I don’t know if I can ever be ready," you whispered, your voice thick with the weight of your heartache. "I don’t want to forget Wooyoung. It feels like… it feels like betraying him, moving on."

Mrs. Jung gave a soft, knowing smile, her eyes filled with compassion. "Darling, you're not betraying him. Loving again doesn’t erase the love you had for my son. It’s a different kind of love. It doesn’t replace what you shared, but it allows you to heal, to open up to new experiences. He would want you to be happy, to live your life fully."

You wiped at your eyes, not wanting to admit the vulnerability you were feeling. "But how do I even try? How do I know it’s right?"

" sweetheart, you'll never know. It's going to be a leap of faith."

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of her words settle in your chest. A leap of faith. It sounded so simple when she said it, but the thought of trusting again—of allowing someone in, especially after all the pain—felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, unsure of what would happen if you jumped.

"But what if I fall? What if it’s too much?" you asked quietly, your voice cracking slightly.

Mrs. Jung gave you a soft, reassuring smile, her hands resting on the counter as she spoke. "You might fall, sweetheart. But you’ll get back up. You’ll always get back up. yn, you went back to work 2 months after Wooyoung died. Honey, no one has the heart like you do."

Her words hit you like a wave, and for a moment, everything went still. You hadn’t realized how much you had buried that part of yourself, the part that had pushed through, day after day, despite the overwhelming grief. Two months. It felt like a lifetime ago, but Mrs. Jung was right. You had gotten up. You had gone back to work, to your routines, to life in a way you never thought you could. It hadn’t been easy, and some days it had felt like you were moving through everything in a haze, but you had done it.

You looked at her, blinking back the unexpected tears that had begun to gather in your eyes. "I don’t feel like I’ve done much, Mrs. Jung. I feel like I’ve just been… existing."

She shook her head, her expression gentle but firm. "Sweetheart, surviving is an achievement in itself. You kept going. You didn’t let the pain swallow you whole. That’s strength. That’s courage."

You swallowed, the tightness in your chest loosening slightly as you absorbed her words. "I didn’t feel strong, though. I still don’t always feel like I’m okay."

Mrs. Jung smiled softly, walking over to you and placing a hand on your shoulder. "That’s okay. Being strong doesn’t mean you always feel like you are. It’s about getting back up, even when you feel like you can’t. And, honey, you’ve done that. You’re doing that right now."

A shaky breath escaped you as you nodded, feeling the weight of everything—of the grief, of the uncertainty, of the pain—begin to settle in a different way. It wasn’t gone, but maybe it didn’t have to define everything. Maybe you didn’t have to have everything figured out right now. Maybe you just had to keep moving, one step at a time.

" and you have Jun yn. Wooyoung left Jun in your care because he knew. He knew you'll be the one to get back on your feet. "

Mrs. Jung’s gaze softened, her hands gently rubbing your back in comfort. " now, let's get you all dolled up for this date. Gotta meet the man who swoop my daughter."

The knock on the door alarmed you as you heard Jun small, ' i'll get it'.

" jun, no let grandma answer the door!" you called out,

Jun’s voice echoed from the hallway, his little feet padding quickly toward the front door. "I can do it, noona! I’ll get it!"

You rushed after him, but by the time you reached the door, Jun had already opened it wide. You froze for a moment, catching sight of the person standing there.

San stood at the threshold, looking every bit as nervous as you felt. His smile was gentle, the bouquet of flowers in his hand as he looked down at Jun.

" hey little man"

Jun looked up at San with wide, curious eyes. "Hi! You brought flowers for noona?" he asked, his excitement bubbling over.

San smiled down at him, his nerves easing a little at the boy's innocent curiosity. "Yeah, I did. I thought she might like them."

Jun nodded seriously, then gave San a big grin. "Noona loves flowers!"

You couldn’t help but smile at Jun’s straightforwardness. The tension in the air seemed to lift as San chuckled softly, ruffling Jun’s hair. "I hope so, buddy."

"Alright, go ahead, buddy. You can put them in the vase," you said, guiding Jun back inside. "Let me get the door."

As Jun scurried off to the kitchen, you turned back to San, your heart fluttering a little at the gesture. You hadn’t expected flowers, but there they were—bright and fresh, a simple but meaningful token.

San shifted on his feet, looking a little unsure but smiling nonetheless. "I know it’s a little forward, but I thought it might be a nice start."

You took a small breath and stepped forward, reaching out to accept the bouquet. "It’s perfect," you said softly, your voice warm. "Thank you, San."

"Glad you like it," he said, his eyes meeting yours with an earnestness that made your heart skip a beat.

There was a brief moment of silence between you two, the sound of Jun's giggles from the kitchen filling the space. You hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Come on in, I think Jun is making his special snack," you said with a small smile.

San gave a relieved chuckle and stepped inside, the warmth of his smile growing. "I’ll be glad to see what he’s cooking up."

As you led him into the living room, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. Mrs. Jung coming into view as San greeted her.

Mrs. Jung smiled warmly at San as she stepped into the living room, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Hello, San. It’s nice to finally meet you," she said, her tone friendly and inviting.

San looked a little caught off guard but quickly regained his composure, offering a polite smile.

You felt a slight blush rise to your cheeks at the ease with which they were talking. Mrs. Jung had a way of making anyone feel comfortable, but you couldn’t help but wonder if this was a little too soon for her to meet San. She, however, didn’t seem to mind.

"I’ve heard a lot about you," Mrs. Jung continued, winking playfully at you. "Yn talks about you often, you know."

You felt your face heat up, your hands instinctively reaching to adjust the flowers in your hands. " mrs. jung!"

She chuckled, as Jun came into view. " halmeoni, noona is going to be San hyung friend!"

Mrs. Jung raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eye as she looked at Jun. "Oh really? Is that what you think, little one?"

Jun nodded enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear. "Yup! San hyung is cool, and he’s nice to noona!" He turned to San, his eyes bright.

San chuckled softly at Jun’s enthusiasm, you couldn’t help but smile at the interaction, feeling a little lighter despite the nervous energy that had been buzzing around you since the start of the evening. It seemed like Jun had already given his seal of approval.

" you kids go have fun. Jun and I will be here," Mrs. Jung said, giving you a wink.

San smiled, " we can maybe get a snack before the movie?"

You nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "That sounds perfect," you said, your heart lightening at the idea of spending time with San, just the two of you.

Jun, from his spot in the living room, cheered. "Movie time! Don’t take too long, noona!" He giggled, making you laugh too.

"Don’t worry, we won’t be long," you reassured him, feeling a warmth settle in your chest. You placed a kiss on his forehead before turning back to San, your nerves replaced with a sense of calm as you took in the moment.

San smiled at you, his expression genuine and kind. "Alright, snack it is then," he said, gently taking your hand and leading you towards the door.

As you stepped outside, the cool evening air wrapped around you, but it didn’t feel cold. With San by your side, it felt like everything was in the right place. You both walked side by side, the evening stretching out ahead of you, full of possibilities.

You laughed at San's joke, his coat wrapped around your shoulder as he chuckled. You leaned into the warmth of his coat, feeling a little more at ease with every step. His laughter was easy and light, and it made you feel like the world had shifted just a bit, making everything feel more manageable.

" i swear, he's my little brother but man do i question if he's adopted or not," San said.

You giggled, " he sounds like a handful. Kinda like Jun"

San laughed, shaking his head. "A handful is an understatement," he said, his voice light but affectionate. "He’s always got a million ideas running through his head, and somehow, he convinces me to go along with them."

" jun is much like his father.." You said softly, looking up at the stars as San walked beside you.

San's steps slowed as he listened to your words, his eyes flicking to the stars above before he turned his attention back to you. He could hear the softness in your voice, the weight of the sentiment behind it.

" what was Jun's dad like, if you don't mind me asking?" San looked at you, watching your features to make sure you're comfortable.

You took a deep breath, pausing for a moment as you thought about how to answer. The memories of Wooyoung were still so fresh, but talking about him didn’t feel as painful as it once did. Maybe it was because San had made you feel like it was okay to share, like it was safe to open up again.

"wooyoung was full of energy, always joking around, always trying to make people laugh. He had this way of making even the hardest days feel lighter, like nothing was ever too serious when he was around. But when it came to the people he loved, he was incredibly protective. He’d do anything for them."

You smiled, remembering the little moments, the big gestures. "He was stubborn, though. Very stubborn. He always thought he knew best, even when he didn’t. But in the end, he had a heart of gold." You paused, your smile faltering just slightly. "He was the kind of person who could light up a room with just his presence, and he didn’t even have to try."

San listened intently, his expression soft and empathetic. "Sounds like he really cared about those around him."

You nodded, your chest tight as you spoke. "He did. He cared a lot. Especially about Jun. He’d always say that Jun would be his greatest legacy. That no matter what, he’d make sure Jun knew how much he was loved, even if he couldn’t be there to show him."

San gave you a knowing look, his voice gentle as he spoke. "It sounds like Wooyoung left behind a lot of love. And Jun’s lucky to have had him as his dad."

You smiled softly, feeling the weight of his words. " he is and i wouldn't have changed it for the world,"

San smiled gently, his eyes soft as he looked at you. There was a sense of admiration in his gaze, something that made you feel seen in a way that was comforting. "It’s clear how much he meant to you, and how much you mean to Jun," he said quietly, his tone sincere. "I can see why you’re such a strong person. You’ve carried so much love, and you’ve kept going for both of them."

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I don’t always feel strong, but I try. For Jun, especially." You glanced over at San, the quiet support he offered making you feel more grounded. "Some days are harder than others, but I just remind myself that Wooyoung wouldn’t want us to stop living."

San's voice was gentle but firm. "And he wouldn’t want you to carry it all alone either." His gaze held yours, his words unspoken but clear. "I’m here, whenever you need someone to talk to, or even just to be there."

Your heart fluttered at his words, a warmth spreading through you. San held his hand out for you, and without hesitation you grabbed it. San's hand was warm, his grip firm but gentle as your fingers intertwined. It felt natural, as if this simple gesture carried the reassurance you didn’t know you needed. He gave your hand a small squeeze, his smile soft as he glanced at you.

San’s gaze was soft, yet it held an intensity that made your breath catch. His hand lingered near your face, the gentle brush of his fingers against your skin sending a warmth radiating through you. The world seemed to quiet in that moment, the sounds of the city fading into the background as his eyes searched yours.

"Yn..." San’s voice was soft, almost reverent, as if your name held more weight than you realized. It wasn’t just the way he said it—it was the look in his eyes, a mixture of tenderness and vulnerability that made your heart race.

You swallowed hard, your breath catching as you met his gaze. His hands moved gently to your waist, the warmth of his touch grounding you even as your heart raced. San pulled you closer, closing the space between you with an ease that felt natural, as if this moment had always been waiting to happen.

His eyes searched yours, his expression open and sincere, the question hanging delicately in the air. "Can I kiss you?" he asked softly, his voice almost trembling with anticipation.

Your breath caught, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you standing there under the soft glow of the streetlights.

You nodded slowly, your voice failing you, but the small smile on your lips told him everything he needed to know. "Yes," you whispered, so softly it was almost carried away by the breeze.

San’s smile widened, the vulnerability in his eyes replaced by a warmth that made you feel weightless. His hands, still resting on your waist, gently guided you closer as he leaned in. His movements were slow, giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted, but you didn’t. Instead, you tilted your head slightly, your eyes fluttering closed.

When his lips met yours, it was soft and tentative at first, like a question waiting to be answered. But as you leaned into him, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt for balance, the kiss deepened, becoming something sweeter, something filled with a quiet passion that left you breathless.

The world seemed to stand still, the noise of the city fading into nothingness. All you could feel was him—the warmth of his hands, the softness of his lips, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your own. It was a kiss that felt like a promise, unspoken but deeply understood.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead resting lightly against his, San’s smile was radiant, his cheeks flushed. "I’ve been wanting to do that for so long," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You laughed softly, your own cheeks warm as you looked up at him. "I’m glad you did," you replied, your voice full of honesty.

In that moment, everything felt right.

one year later....

Jun's laughter echoed across the backyard, his little hands gripping San’s head for balance as he perched on San's shoulders. His giggles were infectious, drawing matching smiles from you and Mrs. Jung as you watched the two from the porch.

“Higher, hyung! Higher!” Jun squealed, kicking his legs excitedly. San pretended to wobble, earning another round of delighted laughter from the boy.

"Careful now," Mrs. Jung warned lightly, though her smile betrayed her amusement. "We don’t need a trip to the emergency room today."

San chuckled, steadying Jun with a firm grip on his legs. "Don’t worry, Mrs. Jung. I've got him."

You shook your head, laughing softly. "Jun’s got you wrapped around his little finger already, doesn’t he?"

San glanced back at you, a wide grin on his face. "What can I say? The kid’s irresistible."

Jun leaned forward, his face upside down as he looked at you. "Noona! Hyung is the best! Can we keep him?"

Both you and Mrs. Jung burst into laughter at his innocent plea, while San’s face flushed slightly. He reached up to ruffle Jun's hair, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "I think you’re stuck with me now, bud."

Mrs. Jung gave you a knowing look, her eyes twinkling with warmth. "Well, he’s certainly fitting in nicely," she said, her tone teasing but kind.

You felt a flutter in your chest as you watched San and Jun together, the sight stirring something deep within you. You hummed in acknowledgment as you took a sip from your drink. Mrs. Jung brought out a piece of paper.

Your breath caught as you stared at the papers in Mrs. Jung’s hands, the weight of their significance settling over you. The edges of the document were slightly worn, as though it had been handled carefully many times before.

“Are those…?” you whispered, unable to finish the sentence, your heart pounding in your chest.

Mrs. Jung nodded, her expression tender. "Adoption papers for Jun," she confirmed softly. "With Wooyoung’s signature."

You felt your knees weaken, and you instinctively reached for the porch railing to steady yourself. Your gaze darted between the papers and Mrs. Jung’s face, searching for an explanation, even though you already knew what this meant.

" honey, he knew you would of signed these paper in a heartbeat but he also wanted Jun to have the best step father and from the looks of it, San is an amazing father towards Jun already."

Your lips quivered as Mrs. Jung’s words sank in, each one weaving into the tender ache in your heart. You looked at her, the understanding and love in her eyes making your emotions bubble up to the surface.

“He really thought of everything, didn’t he?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You glanced over at San, who was now holding Jun’s hands and spinning him around gently, their laughter blending together in perfect harmony.

Mrs. Jung smiled knowingly, her hand squeezing your shoulder gently. “Wooyoung loved you, sweetheart. He loved Jun. He wanted both of you to be happy, even if he couldn’t be here to see it. And I think,” she said, her voice soft but certain, “he knew that someone like San would come into your life.”

Your gaze lingered on San, watching the way he interacted with Jun—kind, patient, and full of joy. It was almost as if Wooyoung’s wishes were coming to life before your eyes.

“He’s been so good to Jun,” you said, your voice breaking slightly. “And to me.”

Mrs. Jung chuckled, brushing a tear from her cheek. “It’s clear as day, Ynie. San isn’t just good to Jun. He loves you both.”

You held the papers close to your chest, the weight of them feeling lighter than before. San sensing your discomfort looked at you as he set Jun down. San’s brow furrowed slightly, concern evident in his gaze as he approached you. Jun ran off to grab his favorite toy, leaving the two of you standing together in the gentle afternoon sun.

“Hey,” San said softly, his voice steady and warm. “You okay?”

You nodded quickly, though the papers pressed against your chest felt like they were carrying years of memories and emotions. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you replied, but the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you.

San tilted his head, his eyes searching yours for the truth. “You sure? You’ve got that look… like there’s a lot on your mind.”

A small, shaky laugh escaped you as you lowered the papers, glancing at them before looking back up at him. “It’s just… a lot. Mrs. Jung gave me these.” You held the papers out, your hands trembling slightly. “They’re adoption papers for Jun. Wooyoung signed them before he… before he passed.”

San’s eyes widened slightly, his gaze flickering to the papers and then back to you. He stepped closer, his voice gentle but resolute. His smile grew as Jun came by your side - a velvet box in his hand as he handed it to San.

San knelt to Jun's level, his smile soft and full of warmth. "You sure you want to help me with this, buddy?" he asked gently, ruffling Jun's hair.

Jun nodded eagerly, his little hands clasped together as he bounced on his toes. "Uh-huh! You said it’s for noona, and I wanna help!"

You tilted your head in confusion, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of the velvet box. “San, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

San straightened, the box resting firmly in his hand as he turned to face you. His expression was open, filled with vulnerability and determination all at once. He opened the box, revealing a delicate ring that sparkled in the sunlight.

“Yn,” San began, his voice steady despite the emotions swirling in his eyes. “Meeting you and Jun has changed my life in ways I never thought possible. You’ve shown me strength, love, and what it means to truly care for someone. And Jun… he’s an amazing kid because of you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched him kneel down, the moment feeling surreal.

“I don’t want to just be a part of your life,” he continued, his gaze locking onto yours. “I want to be there for every moment—the good, the bad, and everything in between. I want to be a family with you and Jun. So, Yn… will you marry me?”

Jun tugged on your sleeve, his grin infectious. “Say yes, noona! Say yes!”

You laughed through your tears, your hand flying to your mouth as your emotions overwhelmed you. Looking down at San, at Jun’s hopeful face, and at the ring that symbolized a new beginning, you felt your heart soar.

“Yes,” you whispered, then louder, “Yes, I will.”

San’s face broke into a radiant smile as he stood, slipping the ring onto your finger before wrapping you in a tight embrace. Jun cheered loudly, wrapping his small arms around both of you, completing the picture of a family you never thought you’d find again.

#choi san x y/n #choi san #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #choi san angst #ateez oneshot #ateez #angst #choi san x reader #choi san x you #san x reader angst #choi san smut #ateez san #san ateez #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ san ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

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starlostseungmin · 5 months ago

Text

a wedding and an unexpected meeting — han jisung.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　best man!han x fem!reader (she/her pronouns).

SUMMARY: 　you caught his attention during the wedding ceremony and after that, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

GENRE & WARNING/S:　 fluff, strangers-to-lovers, han and reader’s characters are inspired by charles and carrie, han is smitten, skz members that were mentioned and the reader are in their late 20s, alcohol consumption, swearing, a few paragraphs of kissing, inaccurate description of places maybe? semi-proofread, lmk if i missed one.

WORD COUNT: 　4.1k

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　inspired by four weddings and a funeral, if you haven’t watched it then you should! also note that the places mentioned are inaccurate, so please don’t mind everything. dedicating this to @starseungs for surviving a bad week and to han for it is his birthday today !! don’t forget to reblog and leave feedback.

“Don’t be such a doofus! Go and talk to her!” Jisung heard Hyunjin say after he kept banging his head on the pole of a random tent at the reception.

He’s been greeting everyone and received congratulatory messages that would later be relayed to his brother. With all smiles and handshakes, the draining social interactions, and trying to keep up with the conversation, Jisung just wanted to have his forehead get struck by the pole but then, the “you” situation happened. It created this burning urge inside of him that he wanted to make a move yet your presence being his top priority, he couldn’t move at all.

“What if she won’t like me?” Jisung answered with doubt in his voice as he looked at Hyunjin worriedly. “I’m such an awkward person! You know I never approached someone before!” He added, grabbing Hyunjin’s collar making the latter almost spill his glass of champagne.

“The woman won’t eat you alive Han! Man up.” Hyunjin groaned, trying to get his friend’s grip off from his expensive suit.

“Easy for you to say! You’re handsome and people would swoon over you. I am surprised that you’re still single in your late 20s.” Jisung retorted as Hyunjin glared at him and sighed.

“So what?” Hyunjin argued, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“Are you sure you won’t use your face to get laid tonight?” He asked with those eyes filled with sadness for his dear friend.

“I don’t give a fuck about dating and leave my hopeless romantic ass alone so go ahead and make yourself useful or something!” Hyunjin shooed as he pushed Jisung away from him. The younger boy scoffed at him while fixing his white blazer and went ahead.

“Such a waste of potential!” Jisung told him but Hyunjin just turned his back away and left the pole.

It is indeed a special day for everyone in the reception but to Jisung, it’s not just his older brother’s wedding day. He stood at the altar as one of his brother’s best men as the bride glided gracefully through the aisle way back at the church two hours ago. You stood from one of the benches after the maids of honor, wearing that beige dress to match the motif. Jisung saw you there, all beautiful and elegant, a gorgeous creature he had never seen before. It’s not safe to say that it was love at first sight but he was captured by your bewitching presence. He stood there with confidence in the hope that you’d notice him too. Maybe not, for you didn’t know who he was.

He asked for your name after the wedding ceremony but no one knew as you were new in town. You were clinging to your only friend at the venue, Jeongin whom you shared classes with when you were in college, and yet, he was out there hanging out with his other friends leaving you alone by the fountain. No hard feelings, aside from him, you were there for the bride.

“Y/N! I’m so happy you could make it.” The bride beamed as she approached you with a hug.

“Pleasure to be here. I can’t miss your wedding.” You smiled at her. “Congratulations on another chapter in your life!”

Jisung stopped in his tracks as he stood two meters away from where you and the bride were having a conversation. He was drawn into how soft-spoken you were and the way you laugh is so elegant and classy. He also finds your smile pretty and the way you keep a pleasing eye contact with the bride somewhat makes him want to experience from you as well. A short exchange of words is not your best feature when it comes to socializing but having to understand the fact that you’re not the only guest around is acceptable and it wasn’t long after that the bride left for another guest to entertain as you sat down on the rim of the fountain, sipping on your glass of wine while enjoying the busy sight of people sharing gossip and laughs.

It was his chance but shame and being bashful made him turn his back on you when the bride left as his heart started to beat faster than normal when he knew he was done waiting for you two to finish. It was crazy how his heart wouldn’t stop jumping as if it was going to rip his chest to get out from the excitement he felt the moment he laid eyes on you back at the church. He doesn’t know what to say to start a conversation and he hates himself for wasting minutes while you sit there, so beautiful in his eyes. But not until you noticed him being uneasy.

You weren’t dense not to notice him ever since the wedding march started. His eyes were on you instead of the bride but you pretended not to put much thought into it because maybe he was looking at someone else. Another guest went to you and told you about a guy asking for your name but he was called by Jeongin (surprisingly) even before you could say your name. He was also going to approach you first but the bride beat him to it and when it was his turn, he couldn’t move, instead, you could see the shape of his back from where you were sitting. And that’s when you were sure, it was you he was interested about.

“You know, you’ll never get the girl if you stay still on your spot.” You said making him flinch in response and slowly turning around to face you.

“H-Hi?” Jisung greeted you with that sheepish smile of his as you stood up from the rim and walked toward him.

“Hi.” You smiled and oh boy, he was smitten. It was like having to see an angel amid a large crowd.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable, I’m not a creep or anything. I’m justー” Jisung said, waving his hands in front of you implying that he has nothing but good intentions.

“No, no, I totally understand.” You said cutting him off and offering your hand for a shake. “I’m Y/F/N (your full name), the bride’s college roommate and you are?”

“Jisung, but everyone calls me Han. I’m the younger brother of the groom.” He said, shaking your hand and it was so soft that he didn’t want to let go. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Han.” You smiled at him.

He is cuteーthat you admitーhe also stood out from everyone else as he wore that white blazer among the four other best men his brother had recruited. His long black locks were styled neatly with a bit of his bangs sprayed still on the sides of his face, a white polo shirt inside that white blazer, a cream-colored tie around his collar, the black slacks, and the shoes, he looked neat and attractive. Han didn’t want to leave a bad impression when this day ends and Hyunjin was right, he needed to man up to finally be able to get himself useful to society and flirt. He can’t blame the poor man for not having a lot of experience when it comes to finding a partner, and so do you.

Despite his feeling of shame and you, not loving to interact with strangers, you are thankful that he came by albeit there was a long pause between you and him. To be honest with yourself, you didn’t know how to start a conversation either but Han most definitely caught your attention as well and you’re happy about it. The loneliness faded into thin air as his smile brought color into your gloomy and colorless solo flight.

Maybe it was fate that brought the two of you together in the same place at the same event. The sounds of people coming and going, their conversations, the laughter, and the wind were making the atmosphere somewhat entertaining to listen to. Jeongin was talking with his old friends, and Hyunjin was with them. Everyone is busy with their bubbles leaving you and Han together.

“So uhm, do you know anyone around here?” He asked you, finally breaking the ice.

“Apart from the bride, there’s Jeongin.” You said pointing at your dear friend using your glass of wine.

“Oh, you’re with Jeongin? I’m sorry!” He said, upon realizing you must’ve been taken and mentally wanting to slap him square on the face.

“No!” You giggled. “I mean, not in that kind of relationship. We shared classes in college with the bride so we’re pretty close. We’re just friends and I came here with him.” You reassured as Jisung sighed in relief. “You know him?” You asked.

“Yeah, he’s a family friend and a business partner. I thought you were together.” He blurted out making you laugh.

“Oh, but it’s not that.” You smiled, taking a glance at Jeongin from afar. “Actually, it has been a while since the last time we saw each other since he started working and I’m on break from my masters.” You added.

“Masters?” He asked, feeling intrigued.

“Yeah, Liberal Arts in a university in (country).” You answered, sipping a few amounts of wine.

“Wow! You’re amazing. So you’re new in town?” Jisung must’ve been entertained in this conversation as he kept getting interested. With such beauty that also possesses a great mind, he is never going to turn his back away from this.

“Well, you could say that because I have never been outside of Seoul before. It’s my first time to be here in Chuncheon.” You said as Jisung nodded thinking it might be a good chance to know you more.

“Well, I could show you aroundーI mean…” Jisung wanted to slap himself for being direct and let the ground eat him because of embarrassment but he only earned another laugh from you which made it more degrading but endearing at the same time for he finds it cute. “I mean, if you’re not going to leave for Seoul or if you still have time before your break ends. I swear, nothing creepy though. I mean… uhm… it’s just that…well fuck.” He stammered with a flustered look on his face.

“I get it, Han.” You giggled at his cuteness making him red as his hands got shaky and cold. “I’ll be back in Seoul by Friday afternoon so that gives you a day left to show me around.”

“Really?”

You know it wasn’t right to trust a stranger at first hello but the thing with Han Jisung is just so shielded. He’s the cute guy you met at the wedding and finally pursued a conversation. Not only that, he made a subtle way to ask you out and you answered. Even him got surprised. He wasn’t expecting you’d be up to it immediately. There’s nothing suspicious about those round eyes and cute cheeks with all the stammering and awkwardness.

“Yeah.” You said. It seemed like you were desperate too but it’s been lonely since you arrived yesterday. Jeongin was with his friends and only accompanied you to dinner because you were too shy to go along with the other guests staying at the same hotel. “But I have to leave in a few minutes since I need to submit some paperwork to my professor before the deadline tonight.”

“Where are you staying? I can walk you there or give you a rideー”

“It’s fine Han, I’m just at the bride and groom’s hotel until Friday after lunchtime. How about you?”

“Well, they’re planning to have a yacht party tonight so I’ll be there with my friends and newlyweds of course.” He answered as you gave him a nod.

“I hope you’ll have fun later.” You smile at him as you take a glance at your wristwatch.

“Thanks.” He said as he noticed you looking at the time. “Is it okay if I walk you back to your hotel?” He asked as you look at him again.

“Wouldn’t your brother and friends look for you?” You asked him.

“They wouldn’t. They know I don’t like big crowds and my friend just shooed me away before I came to you.” He said making you laugh again in response and place your empty glass of wine on the waiter’s glass tray who happened to walk by.

“That wouldn’t be a problem.” You said.

“Lead the way!” He beamed.

You knew you had a lot to talk about while you were on your way to the hotel not far from the reception. It was a breezy afternoon and the sun was almost at its peak to welcome the night sky. Han is sure to have a lot of things to share as you listen to him. A long exchange of words happened and it is quite entertaining knowing that you (surprisingly) have a lot in common. He is the type of guy to smile a lot and gets really hyped when excited. You, on the other hand, got smitten with him and found it cute. The jokes he said and the laughs you’ve shared, he’s funny without making any effort.

When it was your turn to say something about yourself, it came out to be unexpected with all the things you carried from the moment you met Jeongin and the bride. You made him laugh out of your clumsiness, for being forgetful nowadays because you get busy. After all, he can totally relate and tell you he would always carry a piece of paper and a pen with him despite having a notes app on his phone. The story of you being single for a while after a nameless, stupid, irrational guy dumped you during the anniversary of your university way back in college and how flings don’t work on you because the guys you tried to date were all fuckers. Jisung wanted to be different.

It wasn’t the wine that you had earlier but minute by minute that you spent with him, Jisung became more handsome in your eyes. You could listen to his voice all day without getting tired of it and the fact that he also mentioned that he sings, made your heart leap even more. He came out to be somewhat nerdy but in an acceptable way and he is thankful for letting him talk about a lot of things without getting bored of him. The anxiousness of having a stranger beside you just vanished as you became comfortable with his presence yet you know that he’s not a stranger anymore but a new person you decided to open the door to your life even if it’s just for a short while.

“Well, this is me.” You said as you both stopped at the entrance of the hotel.

“It was nice spending some time with you Y/N.” He smiled despite the feeling of sadness he had inside because he didn’t want it to end.

“Thank you for keeping me company, Han.” You smiled back and he knew he had to leave in a few minutes for the party tonight.

“Not a problem actually but uhm…” He paused. “May I ask you out tomorrow? I mean, you mentioned you’re not so familiar with Chuncheon so maybe I can show you around? If that conversation and agreement is still valid of course! I mean, I won’t take it to heart if you’re notー” He stopped when he felt your lips on his cheek making him turn red.

“You may.” You smiled at him as he was utterly speechless.

“S-so, uhm… will 9 or 10 in the morning tomorrow?” He asked, feeling bashful as ever.

“9 am would be great. Good night, Han.”

“Good night.” He said.

And with you disappearing across the double doors of the hotel’s entrance Jisung almost passed out. His heart was going crazy again but good for him, he finally asked you out. He may want to thank Hyunjin for shooing him away earlier just to get to you but for now, he wanted to keep it sane for himself and let the excitement burst later when he’s alone. A big and cheeky smile is plastered on his face as he takes his way back to the reception to meet his friends so he can get a ride to the yacht party later.

“Where have you been?” That’s what Changbin asked the moment he arrived, still having that lovesick smile on his face earning a disgusted look from his friends.

“Yeah, did you finally get laid?” Hyunjin smirked making him slap his arm in response as the smile faded and turned into an annoyed one.

“With whom?” Jeongin asked, feeling intrigued.

“Oh shut up you three.” Jisung sighs. “I met a girl, talked to her, walked her back to the hotel, and asked her out.” He said.

“Finally! You made yourself useful for once, Han.” Hyunjin clapped. “Is it the girl in a beige dress?” He asked as Changbin and Jeongin raised a brow.

“Yep,” Jisung smiled. “Thank you for leaving Y/N alone earlier, Jeongin, I owe you one.” He added, taking the younger one’s hands and shaking them violently.

“You were with Y/N?” Jeongin gasped despite his disbelief.

“Who?” Changbin asked, feeling completely out of place.

“None of your goddamn business. I’m taking her out tomorrow and perhaps, show her around Chuncheon so you three can go hiking without me. Ha!” Jisung exclaimed and made his way to the car, dancing in joy. The three of his friends looked at each other in amusement and later shrugged the thoughts off to move to the next venue.

It was already dark when they left the reception after getting everyone’s attention to announce that to those who wanted to attend the after-party at the yacht by the coast. Changbin was driving as Hyunjin and Jeongin were talking. Jisung was surprisingly quiet despite his excitement earlier and he was beating himself upーthinking about giving up the after-party to get back to the hotelーhe couldn’t wait to spend the day tomorrow and he could only decide to meet you halfway from his next destination. It’d be stupid if he’d ask Changbin to stop the car and make an excuse for having an upset stomach when in fact he walked out of the car and went back to the hotel. Hyunjin wasn’t convinced about Jisung being a pathological liar but they let him go anyway.

Jisung didn’t get scared of the dark when he decided to leave and went straight to your hotel when all of the guests were heading to the yacht. You stayed behind because of the commitment to your masters and you didn’t want to fail. Jisung asked the front desk about your room being out of breath because of the running as you typed into your laptop by the windowsill, trying to get a nice view of this foreign place. You weren’t expecting any unexpected things to happen tonight aside from submitting paperwork not until you heard a knock outside your door. The laptop is soon left unattended on your couch as you make your way to the door and take a peek from the small hole. It was him.

“Han?” You asked, immediately after opening the door for him.

He was still wearing his suit and was about to knock again. It looks like he was hesitating to get here but there was this unspoken spark and excitement in his eyes that he could not hold it in that’s why he ended up here. Also, he can’t get you out of his mind and seems to have a lot to say to you albeit in the conversation you had this afternoon. Being frozen on his spot, he couldn’t construct the words into sentences the moment you opened the door and just stared at you, thinking what he should say or just let his lips crash onto yours because of his goddamn feelings. He admits, he was curious and drawn into you the time he laid his eyes on you and now he’s here trying to make up the time he wasted after saying good night.

“Han, what are you doing here?” You asked. “I thought you were going to the after-party.”

“Changed my mind on my halfway there.” He said. “Well, I know I said I’ll be here tomorrow by 9 but I just couldn’t wait.”

“What?” You asked again, confused but you couldn’t lie to yourself that you feel the same even though you just met hours ago.

“Y/N.” He called as he locked eyes with you and there he realized it was indeed love at first sight. “Fuck.” He hissed, feeling his lips onto yours.

It was unexpected but without hesitation, you returned the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him inside while he closed the door from behind. His kisses were desperate and longing at first filled with unspoken words as they became tender and exploratory with a hint of excitement and commitment. Your eyes shut at the slam of your lips together, the taste of wine and champagne getting mixed lingered upon the kiss. It was sweet as your lips molded together, feeling each other’s hot breaths at the tip of your noses as it got deeper.

Your hands reached for his neat hair which was now messy and disheveled as your fingers played with the long strands of his black locks. He snaked his one hand around your waist to pull you closer to his body and let you melt against his kisses while the other hand was placed on your jaw to feel it better. The kiss is tempting and hot. It wasn’t like the kisses you felt before from the guys you allegedly dated, not even close to your first kiss when you were in middle school. Jisung’s kiss is so different as you feel sincerity and fondness. You didn’t want to break it, you wanted to feel a little bit more.

Jisung doesn’t want to stop either but the fact that kissing someone he just met is a bold and shameful move. He loved your lips at first taste and now you’re getting pinned against your door hearing a loud thud as he continued to move his lips on yours. You hugged him again as he placed his knee between your legs so you couldn’t escape and you didn’t have the intention to. He could feel how eager you were that it made him smirk against your lips and he couldn’t stop himself from it.

Your hands reached for his collar to pull him closer to yours to feel more although you know it’s not right for you to be this desperate. I didn’t matter anymore. The years of not being able to be kissed properly are something that you don’t deserve and now Jisung is the very first one to make your heart flutter like butterflies, you can’t just let him go after this. He also knew you felt the same the moment you got struck like lightning by his frantic kiss. Again, it doesn’t matter. You want him too, that’s all you both need to know.

“I want to be with you,” He said, slightly pulling away from your lips upon trying to catch his breath. You locked eyes with him again as you placed a soft kiss on his lips before smiling at him.

“Isn’t it weird that I want to be with you too?” You asked him as he chuckled in response.

“No, it’s not.” He said. “Did I interrupt something before I…”

“No,” You said cheekily and kissed him again. “Are you staying for the night?”

“If I’m allowed to?” He answered between the kisses.

“You may.” You answered before pulling away. “But what about the party?”

“I can’t go now that we’re doing this.” He giggled. “Let me stay here for a while. I mean my room is just above this floor so I’ll take some clothes and we can spend the rest of the night together and go on a date tomorrow like we agreed…?” He added as he caressed your cheek, still keeping that eye contact with you.

“Sure, let’s do that.” You said as he gave you a forehead kiss before excusing himself to go to his room, leaving you all hot and a blushing mess. Meanwhile, he was out there by the hallway dancing while humming his favorite tune and being all smiley about what just happened.

It is indeed a special day, a wedding, and an unexpected meeting.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　───　 @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow , @hanjsquokka , @suebin , @starlostastronaut , @stayconnecteed , @myjisung , @arrasuh 　( open. )

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kitten4sannie · 7 months ago

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HOT TO GO!

pairing: boyfriend! hongjoong x fem! reader

genre: smut

summary: poor hongjoong always ends up fighting demons when he’s up too late in the studio. he has no choice but to facetime you in hopes that you’ll help solve his dilemma.

w.c: 1.5k

warnings: soft dom but slightly subby! hongjoong, sub with some dom tendencies! reader, phone/facetime sex, teasing, pet names, dirty talk, some instruction giving, tit play/sucking requested by joong (they match each other’s freak okay), mutual masturbation, brief breeding kink

a/n: oh captain my captain~~ oomfs let me know about this wonderful prompt and i simply couldn’t say no 😵‍💫💕 there’s something about a nasty facetime call between two people that are extremely desperate for each other that drives me insaneeeee GOD. enjoy lovelies <3

song rec: cyber sex by doja cat

“Come on, let this be the one,” Hongjoong sighed to himself, listening intently to the track he was in the process of crafting. After hours and hours spent hunched over his monitor, something still wasn’t right. “Fuck, man…”

He rubbed the pads of his thumbs into the bridge of his nose once he removed his reading glasses, pinching it slightly. He glanced at the bottom of the monitor with his bloodshot eyes, noting that the clock had just struck 12, before looking down at his phone screen, tapping it gently, a breathtaking photo of you popping up and almost making him forget where he even was. He couldn’t believe he had to be away from you for so long, stuck inside his studio instead of being being stuck between your trembling thighs, wishing he could listen to the lovely sounds you produced for him rather than the artificial ones he made with his keyboard.

The longer he thought about what you were possibly doing in bed without him, the more he began to squirm in his plush computer chair, grabbing at the crotch of his baggy sweatpants. Maybe if he could just release some tension, he’d finally figure out how to finish the song. And maybe, just maybe, his baby wouldn’t be opposed to helping him out a bit.

Hongjoong propped his phone up against his monitor and hit the call icon next to your name, biting into his chapped bottom lip, feeling more and more like a pervert the longer he listened to the dial tone drone on, figuring you were probably just trying to get a good night’s rest. And, here he was, trying to get his nut off. “Goddamn it,” he mumbled to himself, resting his head in his hand just as his phone made a familiar chirping sound. It was then that your sleepy voice rang out through the phone speaker.

“Hey, how’s my baby doing?” You smiled at the sight of your slightly disheveled boyfriend on your bright phone screen, kicking off your warm covers. “Are you making sick beats?”

“The sickest,” Hongjoong replied softly, his lips curling up into a feline-like smile, his tired eyes sparkling at the sight of you. “I’m good now that I’m seeing your pretty face. I missed you today.”

“I missed you too, Joongie.” You rolled onto your side in your regretfully empty bed, resting your phone against the edge of your pillow, one of your loose tank top straps sliding down your shoulder. “Still in the studio, huh?” You pouted at your boyfriend, batting your eyelashes. “Why aren’t you at home yet? In bed with me?”

Hongjoong gulped, unconsciously wetting his lips with his tongue, trying not to fixate on the way your tits were squished together, your tank top barely concealing what was hidden underneath. “I wish I was in bed with you right now…so bad…I, actually, couldn’t stop thinking about you before I called. I couldn’t concentrate on my music.”

You giggled softly, knowing him well enough to know why he was having a hard time keeping eye contact with you, pressing your tits together just a little more, watching your boyfriend’s mouth open slightly. “Oh, so it’s my fault you couldn’t concentrate, huh? Should I take responsibility, Joongie?”

Hongjoong squeezed his ringed fingers into one of his thighs, biting back the groan he wanted to let out. His baby was always such a tease. It pained him that he couldn’t be there with you physically to tease you back in the way he wanted, knowing he would have you flushed, soaked, and begging for him to be inside you. For now, he would have to make the most of this late night facetime call.

“You should, babygirl. You’re always so naughty for me when I’m home, always making me think dirty things when I’m in the studio. Just look at what you’ve done to me,” Hongjoong answered huskily, slowly leaning back against his computer chair, allowing you to see the way his stiff cock was pressing into the thin material of his joggers. He squeezed around the base of it, jerking himself off in an agonizingly slow manner, knowing it would drive you insane. “Mm, make it up to Joongie, yeah? Take your tits out.”

As you obediently tugged your top down and allowed your tits to spill out, much to Hongjoong’s satisfaction, he tugged his leaking cock free from its confines, causing you to begin to drool almost as if on command, having to swallow it all down to keep it from spilling out, wishing your boyfriend was on the bed next to you so that his heavy cock could plug up your throat. For now, you would have to settle for watching him touch himself on your phone screen. “Now what, Joongie?” you asked, bringing your free hand up to your tits to grope and squeeze at them.

“S-suck on them…” he requested perversely, a bead of sweat dripping along his temple.

Propping your phone against one of your plushies, you brought both of your hands to the undersides of your tits, slowly bringing them up near your mouth. “Joongie’s a little pervert, huh? Wanting to watch his baby suck on her own tits like this….”

“I-i am…wanna see you be naughty for me…” Hongjoong blushed heavily, pulling at the strings of his hoodie in an act to conceal himself, his dilated eyes still focused solely on you, his hand squeezed tight around the base of his cock, feeling it throb persistently.

Humming, you brought one of them to your mouth, idly licking around and over your nipple until it hardened against your tongue, sucking it into your warm mouth and moaning, before giving your other tit the same treatment, occasionally looking up at your boyfriend with hazy, half-closed eyes, wishing your wetness was leaking out around his moving cock, instead of soaking into your panties. “Baby…stop for a second…” you whispered, squeezing your thighs together.

“Yes, princess,” Hongjoong obeyed breathily, taking his hand off of his length and instead grabbing at his thigh, his stiff cock twitching upwards like it had a mind of its own, sticky pre-cum pooling from his tip and dripping down the side. It looked like he was going to bust at any given second.

Licking your lips at Hongjoong’s pitiful state, you sat up on the bed and faced your phone, opening your slick covered thighs, pulling your panties to the side and spreading yourself open to show your boyfriend the way your pretty pink hole fluttered around nothing. “Can you please fuck me? I’m so empty, I wanna cry…”

“Oh my godddd, baby,” Hongjoong groaned, watching closely as you rubbed your fingers over your cunt, able to hear just how incredibly wet you were for him, eventually tugging his hood off of his head and running his fingers through his hair, gripping it for a second to keep himself from tweaking. “I wish I could fuck you dumb right now…You have no idea how bad I wanna fill you up…”

“Guess I’ll have to get the job done myself until you get home, huh?” you sighed playfully, just as you easily slipped two fingers inside yourself up to the knuckles, adding a third because you could, before fucking them in and out of you, the obscenely wet sounds your cunt made each time sending Hongjoong into a deeper state of need. “J-joongie, please cum inside me…I need it…”

Letting out a whimper, Hongjoong resumed his desperate act of self pleasure, quickly collecting his abundant pre-cum to slick up his twitching cock each time his closed fist moved near the shiny, red tip. “Gonna cum, baby, gonna cum so hard for you…”

Keeping your eyes locked on your boyfriend’s half-lidded ones, you quickened your pace, your fingers beginning to cramp, curling them up just enough to pound them into your g-spot, causing your gasps to turn into whiny moans, a few tears starting to spill from your eyes, similar to the arousal that was spilling out of your pulsing cunt. “I’m cumming, Joongie, fuck– Fill me up, please, please, please…!”

Hongjoong threw himself back into his chair, emitting a few soundless moans, before he began to let out one long groan, desperately bucking up into his closed fist, until a stream of milky, white liquid shot out. “Fuck, I’m gonna knock you up, princess….There’s so much…” he sighed out, tossing his head back, milking his aching cock with a shaky hand, a few beads of cum spilling out onto his skin.

The both of you grew quiet as you came down from your highs, simply panting and trying to catch your breath, still gazing at one another through your phone screens.

You picked up your phone and brought it closer to your face, batting your lashes at him once again, whispering, “You better finish up that song and get your ass home, Joong. As much as I love watching you make a mess of yourself, that wasn’t nearly enough for me.”

After practically melting into his chair, Hongjoong sat up and nodded his head obediently, biting his lip at the implication that the both of you would be going at it all night. He pushed some of his sweaty hair back just to let it fall into his now narrowing eyes, making sure you were looking at him when he guaranteed, “I’ll be sure to ruin you later, princess. Wait up for me, yeah?”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

tags: @dazzlinglight @thefinerthingz3 @cosmiczen @choerryge @arusio @ethicalz @jinsonaz @kitty4hwa @purplechannie @jazzymoore @kodzukein @asjkdk @chanst1ddies @createyour0wnworld @roarmingi @simeonswhore @k0rean-big-mini0n @bls-luv-me @igotlockedout @fl0r4f4wn @miriamxsworld @woosmaid @kawaiikels @azcon @allofuswantgwinam @breezy-simp @eastleighsblog @singularity777 @san-realblkwife @kawennote09 @feuille-et-pain @slut4hwa @owjohny @hijeongguk @lilramennoodle @leo-seonghwa @staytinydegenerate @greenymar @8tinytings @baguette-atiny @lvnderhazes @knucklesdeepmingi @soobiverse @jeongwangjessmina @ja3hwa @actuallyalien @aggiebackstage @doom-fics @koalakoala8 @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna

#cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #ateez #ateez smut #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong smut #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #ateez imagines #kpop x reader #kpop smut

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beuxwhoyouare · 3 days ago

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Dressing Room Score

All the couples wanted the day off for Valentine’s Day but I took those shifts so quickly because hello it’s free money! I took the apparel section because it’s the easiest place to get a peak at the dressing rooms. I’m not a perv I swear, but I can’t help myself. I always kept one vital of bodysuit serum on me. All the eye candy going into the dressing rooms was like a buffet of options. Men, women, pets! Shit I don’t discriminate I love trying on another persons experience to see how they live.

We were getting a weird crowd today since all the couples were out and about. The store was filled with miscellaneous randos so I went through most of my day thinking I struck out. As I locked in refolding some destroyed sections of t-shirts, a customer came up to me asking for help locating more of a certain item I absent mindedly answered looking at what was in his hand before looking up. My words stopping in their tracks as I saw his face.

He was so adorable and dorky looking in his face but the outfit he already had on told a different story. Leaving little to the imagination, it inferred he was going on a date or going out but I didn’t want to inquire too much. I like my mouth mindlessly answer his inquiries as I kept looking back to ogle at his outfit.

Eventually he asked to use the dressing rooms and I knew this was basically my chance. We walked slowly to the rooms and as he walked into the tiny space I quickly pulled the syringe out, stabbing him in the neck behind his back. The mirrors lining the room couldve saved him but he was oblivious of his surroundings.

He began turning into a suit hollowing out into a mound that looked like skin colored liquid latex. I quickly pushed him into the dressing room with me to avoid spectators. As I latched the door, I turned around to see the process completed. I knew I was operating on limited time and quickly pulled his skin on. I love putting on a new body that’s stacked with muscles that I’m not. It’s like you feel bloated, but in a good way because it goes straight to your muscles and any other places you differ in size…if you get what I mean. He was clearly a grower because I didn’t feel anything crazy there though.

I looked through his wallet to figure out a name and basic details. Okay, Reese is the name 5’9” is the height okay there’s the address. Wait the best part! I whipped back upright standing and smiling towards my new phone.

I decided to save the rest of the excitement for privacy gathered my new belongings and headed to the address on my ID. I fumbled through several keys before eventually finding the right one as I pushed my way into a very nice but neutral looking apartment. It definitely gave upper class gay which is what I always pretended to be so this would be easy to embody.

I quickly began stripping as I hastily searched for the closest full body mirror. I wanted to see the goods from every single angle. I ripped the belt holding up my very fitted pants, dropping them down to my ankles and I just gasped at what I could see.

Reese was had the type of body I was always afraid to have. He’s so conventionally attractive that while I wore him I felt like I couldn’t control myself. I needed to push it to the limit and see what I can do.

I headed down to the gym matching the sign in tag on Reese’s keys and just pretended to be there for a good workout. I mean I did go for a workout just not that kind.

I had a hard time breaking a sweat, which only intrigued me more but I headed to the locker room to take pics. I was just so obsessed with his juicy chest. Thankfully this was the better strategy because I kept getting passing glances until someone finally took initiative and approached me.

The man was such a daddy, something I could’ve only hoped to previously attract before. He nearly demanded I come with him after he got dressed and who would be to not oblige? I got in his big truck and we made our way to his home. I don’t know how I deluded myself into thinking I’d be the dominant one in this situation but the second the house door closed behind me. The burly daddy manhandled me and pushed me onto his bed. Gentle and slow was only a dream I could’ve hoped for because that man whipped his beer can out immediately and shoved his way in.

Don’t get me wrong he was BIG but that was the moment I learned what Reese did well. He was a power bottom. There was no moment of pain, me and my new hole took it like a champ. The in and out of his aggressive pace was matched by my new muscle memory eagerness to accept it.

He attacked my muscular backside as I finally began to break a sweat. Loud moans escaped my mouth. I couldn’t control it like an animalistic cry. As I thought I was reaching my limit I came on myself as he kept going. That would become a recurring theme.

Every day I’d show up to the gym and act like the slutty himbo I wanted to be. Ending up at a different home, condo, apartment every night putting my new orifices to work.

#gay #identity theft #bodysuit

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judesmoonbeauty · 19 days ago

Text

A Day With Jude Jazza: Chapter One

"4:00 - Before Dawn & Early Morning"

Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

[Before Dawn. Jude’s POV]

(Why’re ya here?)

Just before dawn, I finally made it back to my room and when I entered, I saw Kate sleeping on the bed.

(Guess she couldn’t hold out ‘n fell asleep.)

When I sat down and touched Kate’s cheek, she smiled in her sleep,

Jude: …..Sleepin’ ‘n lookin’ all happy, what’re ya dreamin’ of princess?

My hand gradually grew warmer, and then Kate started to mumble.

Kate: Jude, Ju……

(Didja wake up?)

Kate: I’m buried…in paperwork…..

Jude: …..Pff.

I unintentionally burst out in laughter at the unexpected sleep-talk, all while Kate was still groaning,

Jude: Workin’ even in yer dreams.

Feeling spent, I took shower, changed my clothes and got into bed.

I pulled Kate closer to me, and her warmth instantly lulled me to sleep.

Jude: I’m exhausted….

I closed my eyes together with the warmth.

[Early morning. Switches to Kate’s POV]

(Oh no, I fell asleep….)

As the sunlight hit the back of my eyelids, I was struck with anxiousness.

I heard the mission would run late, so I tried to sleep in my room, but that didn’t work out,

So, I tried to wait for him in his room, but I fell asleep.

(It smells like Jude.)

When I looked up I noticed I was being gently hugged.

And then I saw his sleeping face.

(Oh my gosh, he’s asleep…?!)

His usual scowl is gone, sleeping with a peaceful expression, and then my own sleepiness disappears.

(I can’t believe that I woke up BEFORE Jude…!)

I rarely get to see his sleeping face because he goes to bed later than me and wakes up before me,

And even if I could see it, he wakes up instantly, so this is a first.

(It’s most likely because he’s so exhausted from getting back so late.)

Kate: ….Good job, Jude.

Jude: Ngh…….

When I whisper, his eyelashes quiver.

At that moment, a wandering hand gently pinched my cheek.

(Ah….)

Amethyst eyes met with mine.

Kate: Jude,

Jude: …..Yer bedhead’s terrible.

Kate: Huh?

He grabbed my hand that quickly tried to reach my hair, and smiled softly.

Jude: Just don’t show it t’other guys.

His hand caressing my cheek, his gaze, everything is affectionate and gentle,

I smile when I think how I’m the only one who gets to see an expression the exact opposite of his usual one but —

Jude: Yer irritatingly cute today too…..

Kate: Wh-wh….WHAT?!

Jude: Huhh? What’s wrong with sayin’ what I think. Just accept it, yeah.

It seemed like I forgot to breathe, when those sweet words dropped like a bomb,

Kate: What time did you get back?

(If I react, I’d definitely be laughed at and teased…..!)

Having been teased so much before, I thought about the consequences, and so I asked calmly.

Jude: …..Dawn.

But what caught my eye was his face buried in the pillow as he sleepily responded,

(If I do my best to wake up early, then I can get a thornless Jude to say sweet words,)

(Plus, I can see some pretty cute things….)

Just then, I decided to make it my routine to wake up early —

Jude: Yer overthinkin’ things.

Kate: I-I’m not overthinking.

He hit the nail on the head as my eyes wander.

As he watched me, he let out a small laugh —

Jude: Pff, yer so easy t’read.

The sweet, soft voice makes my heart beat so hard I think it will explode,

Kate: …..Thanks for working hard on your mission.

Since today has only begun.

Kate: And, good morning Jude.

He gently smiled, pinched my cheek a little and then stifled a yawn,

Jude: [Yawn]…..Mornin’ Kate.

—This is the story of a day with Jude Jazza.

DIABETEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSS.

[Event Master list] [Next - ⏱♡ 13:00 - Working at Raven & Lunch]

Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

Tag list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul @goustmilk @kraiyne

#ikevil translations #cybird translations #ikevil jude #jude jazza #jude jazza translations #ikevil #ikemen villains #ikemen villains translations

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loafysainz · 23 days ago

Text

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

next chap

PART 16 BACK TO PAST MEMORIES

The afternoon had been a whirlwind—full of surprises, chaos, and more surprises. So, when Carlos and Matheo stepped out of the hotel lobby together, both dressed in formal attire, Carlos couldn't help but feel a little on edge.

“Matheo…” Carlos tilted his head, tugging at the stiff collar of his shirt as he eyed his son. “There have been ‘way’ too many surprises today. Can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

Matheo grin was as mischievous as ever. “I already told you, Dad—it’s a surprise.”

Carlos rolled his eyes dramatically. “All right, I wish I am not about to get struck by lightning or something.”

As they walked towards the entrance of the hotel, Carlos caught sight of Y/N, who was walking out with Mattia. Both were impeccably dressed, though Carlos’s gaze naturally lingered on the Y/N longer than he’d admit.

The twins exchanged a knowing glance, the kind of secretive look that sent chills down a parent’s spine. Carlos sighed deeply. “This doesn’t feel like it’s going to end well.”

Y/N approached him, smoothing down her dress. “Hey… any idea what the kids are up to?”

Carlos shook his head. “No clue. Matheo won’t tell me a thing.”

Y/N nodded “I see.”

The limo ride that followed was short, yet somehow stretched an eternity in awkward anticipation. Carlos couldn’t shake the feeling that he and Y/N were being set up. By the time they arrived at a port, the confusion on their faces was mutual.

“Kids…” Carlos stared at the waterfront with raised eyebrows. “Is this where we’re eating?”

Mattia smirked. “Nope!”

Matheo pointed towards the dock, where a stunning yacht was illuminated against the evening sky. “That’s where we’re going to have dinner.”

Carlos’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “The yacht? You’re joking.”

But they weren’t joking.

The group made their way onto the boat, Carlos firing questions as quickly as his brain could process what was happening. “Matheo, how exactly are we paying for this?”

“We gave all our savings,” Matheo said, his tone suspiciously nonchalant.

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure, Theo. Try again.”

“Well… I call Grandpa Sainz yesterday, he have helped a ‘little’ bit,” Matheo admitted sheepishly.

“Matheo,” Carlos said, gave his son a pointed look.

Matheo grinned up at him. “What? It helped a lot.”

Mattia quickly interjected, tugging on Y/N’s dress. “Come on, Mom. You’re going to love this.”

The families was ushered inside the yacht, where they stopped at an elegant door. Matheo turned to them with a grin so wide it practically screamed trouble. “Mrs. Y/LN, Mr. Sainz… your dinner is served.”

The door swung open, revealing a beautifully set table in the middle of the room. Flowers and candles decorated the space, their soft glow reflected in the surrounding windows that overlooked the water. Y/N gasped quietly, clearly impressed by the romantic setup, while Carlos scanned the scene, his eyes narrowing.

“Uh… kids? There are only two chairs,” he pointed out, gesturing at the table.

Matheo’s face lit up. “Exactly! That’s part two of the surprise. We’re ‘not’ having dinner with you!”

Y/N laughed nervously, trying to mask her growing unease. “Oh? And who will be joining us then?”

Right on cue, Chessy appeared, stepping into the room in an immaculately with a chef form. “Good evening,” she announced, a sly smile playing on her lips. “My name is Chessy, and I’ll be your assistant tonight. Comments, questions, and complaints? Not accepted.”

Behind her, Martin entered, holding a bottle of wine with an almost angelic smile. “And I, Martin, will be your sommelier this evening. Let’s hope you drink just enough to forget that these two troublemakers roped us into this.”

Carlos blinked. “Wait. You’re the staff tonight?”

Chessy shrugged, clearly unfazed by the question. “Mattia, music please.”

Mattia darted to the corner of the room, hitting play on a small speaker. A soft, romantic ballad filled the space, the melody blending perfectly with the gentle rocking of the yacht.

“Relax,” Mattia said, his voice brimming with excitement. “Sail through time!”

“And enjoy the evening,” Matheo added with a dramatic wave of his hand.

The twins turned to leave, practically skipping out of the room. Y/N and Carlos exchanged hesitant glances, neither daring to speak as the reality of the situation sank in.

“Well,” Y/N said after a long pause, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is… weird.”

Carlos groaned, slumping into one of the chairs. “Remind me to ground those two when this is over.”

But as the soft music played and Martin poured the wine, Carlos couldn’t help but crack a smile. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Chessy watched as the children disappeared from sight, their laughter fading into the distance. She turned to her companions, her brow furrowed. “Have you seen the evil plan?” she asked, her tone suspicious but tinged with humor.

Y/N adjusted the black-colored scarf around her neck, the gesture betraying her nervousness. “Yes, yes,” she muttered, trying to gather her thoughts. “I’m starting to understand what’s happening.”

Carlos glanced around, his eyes landing on a lifebuoy decorated with a familiar name. A flicker of recognition crossed his face. “It’s just like when we first met,” he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. “The boat, the music...”

“The service,” Chessy added with a smirk.

Y/N, ever the romantic, took in the scene with sincere appreciation. “Everything is... very beautiful,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Carlos turned to Martin with a playful grin. “Martin, would you please accept a drink?” he asked, gesturing toward the bar.

Martin and chessy shared a knowing smile as they obediently took their drinks. Martin gave Chessy a subtle signal, and the two of them quietly slipped away, leaving Carlos and Y/N alone.

As the soft hum of the waves provided a serene backdrop, Carlos leaned against the balcony of the boat. He hesitated for a moment before confessing, “To be honest, I haven’t been on a boat since that time.”

Y/N joined him at the railing, their shoulders almost brushing. “Me neither,” she admitted, her voice tinged with vulnerability. He avoided Carlos’s gaze, focusing instead on the horizon. But Carlos wasn’t one to shy away. Raising his glass, he proposed, “Well, then, here’s to, uh…”

“Our son,” Y/N interjected quickly, finally meeting Carlos’s eyes.

The sincerity in her voice made Carlos pause, his own glass hovering mid-air. “Our son,” Carlos repeated, clinking his glass against Y/N’s. A small, almost imperceptible smile graced his lips, though it looked more like a grimace born of mixed emotions.

Their moment of connection was abruptly interrupted when Carlos caught sight of their children peeking through the small windows of the cabin doors. As soon as they realized they’d been discovered, the kids ducked out of sight with impressive speed.

Gathering his courage, Carlos turned to face her fully. “Y/N... if we can ever be completely alone, I’d like to talk about what happened between us. Because it ended so quickly.”

Y/N’s expression softened, though a flicker of hesitation lingered. “It started very fast,” she replied, her tone layered with meaning.

Carlos’s signature charming smile returned. “I remember that part very well,” he teased.

Y/N’s lips curved into a small smile, betraying her own memories of their whirlwind beginning.

Meanwhile, Chessy and Martin, who were spying discreetly from a corner, exchanged satisfied glances. “It seems like everything is going well,” Chessy commented, her tone light.

“I think the same,” Martin replied, his eyes still fixed on the couple.

She motioned toward the kitchen. “Come on, we have to serve the appetizers.”

Martin nodded, momentarily flustered by Chessy’s charm. “O-of course,” he stammered, following her.

Back at the table, Y/N and Carlos settled into their seats. Y/N broke the silence first. “So, tell me, Carlos. You’ve done very well in life, haven’t you?” she gestured to the wine bottle. “Your brand is on the rise every day.”

Carlos adjusted his napkin, his expression modest. “And you? I remember your notebooks full of amazing designs. Have you been able to pursue that?”

Y/N smiled, clearly touched that Carlos remembered. “Yes, that’s right. We both fulfilled our dreams, didn’t we?”

Chessy entered with two plates in hand, interrupting the moment. As she set the meals down, Y/N’s mind wandered back to their children. “What are we going to do with them?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Carlos sighed, his fingers tapping against the table. “Well, the two of them have already met. It’ll be impossible to separate them now.”

Y/N pondered for a moment. “I could stay with them for half a year, and you for the other half,” she suggested tentatively.

Chessy, still lingering nearby, shook her head. “Hey... kids can’t go to different schools every year. It wouldn’t make sense.”

Carlos nodded in agreement. “You’re right.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed as she tried to come up with a solution. “Well, I could take them for a full year, and you the next?”

Chessy’s disapproval was evident. “Still not a great idea,” she said bluntly.

Carlos glanced at her, then back at Y/N. Realizing the tension, Chessy quickly excused herself. “Oh... sorry, I’m leaving.”

Y/N couldn't help but let a soft chuckle escape, amused by the small slip-up that had just happened. It was one of those moments that lightened the tension, if only briefly.

"Anyway," Carlos began, attempting to steer the conversation back on track, "that’s why we had our previous agreement."

Y/N raised a skeptical eyebrow, her expression equal parts curious and doubtful. "Really? I thought it was because... well, because we didn’t want to be together anymore."

Carlos shifted in his seat, biting his lip as though the memory still stung. "No," he admitted quietly, "it wasn’t both of us."

Y/N leaned back slightly, folding her arms in front of him. "Well," she said, her voice laced with a mix of reflection and mild defensiveness, "that part has gotten a little fuzzy over the years."

Carlos tilted his head, as if deciding how much to push. "Do you remember the day you packed your things?" he asked, his tone gentle but probing.

Y/N hesitated, her brow furrowing in thought. "Yes... but I don’t remember everything about it. I think I hurt you with something I did... that was..." She trailed off, struggling to grasp the specifics.

Carlos’ lips quirked into a bittersweet smile as he helped jog Y/N’ memory. "You threw a plant at me," he reminded her.

Y/N’ cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she let out a self-conscious laugh. "True," she admitted, rubbing her dress. The memory, though distant, still carried a pang of awkwardness.

Carlos leaned forward slightly, his voice softening as he tried to tread carefully. "Y/N, maybe we’ll never have the chance to truly be alone, but I’d really like to talk about what happened between us. Honestly."

Y/N’ gaze sharpened as she rested her chin on her folded hands, giving Carlos her full attention. There was a weight to the air between them, a vulnerability they’d both spent years avoiding.

"Why did you do it?" Carlos asked suddenly, his voice quieter but filled with curiosity and an edge of hurt.

Y/N took a deep breath, the words slow to form. "Ah... Carlos, we were young. We didn’t know what we were doing. We said stupid things. I packed everything, got on the first plane, and left." Her voice wavered slightly as she finally dared to meet Carlos’ eyes, her smile fragile. "And... you didn’t come after me."

Carlos froze, caught off guard by the directness of Y/N’ words. "I didn’t think you wanted me to follow you," he admitted after a pause, his voice tinged with regret.

Y/N wrinkled her nose slightly at the response, a bitter half-smile playing on her lips. "Well, that doesn’t matter anymore," she said, brushing off the lingering ache with practiced ease. "What matters now is figuring this out for our children."

Carlos sighed deeply, the tension between them palpable. "Yes," he agreed, though his voice lacked conviction. " for their sake, we need to figure this out." He broke eye contact, focusing instead on finishing his drink as though it could wash away the uncomfortable emotions.

Y/N noticed the subtle shift in Carlos’ demeanor, the way his shoulders tightened ever so slightly. To distract herself from the growing heaviness in the room, Y/N picked up her spoon and took a small sip of her soup. It was more out of habit than hunger, but it gave her something to do as the silence stretched on, thick and unyielding.

*****

Y/N and Carlos stood at the hotel’s front desk, sorting through their paperwork to finalize the check-out process. Both of them were an odd mix of calm efficiency and subtle tension, their movements synchronized from years of parenting together, yet their silence spoke volumes.

“Mrs. Y/LN, everything is ready,” Martin, her butler, announced, handing Y/N their neatly stacked passports.

Y/N gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Martin. Do you know if Mattia is ready?”

Martin nodded. “I just called him. He shouldn’t be long coming down.”

Satisfied, Y/N turned back to her half-packed suitcase. Without looking at Carlos, she spoke in a measured tone. “So... Mattia will spend Christmas with you.”

Carlos didn’t miss a beat. “And Matheo will spend Easter with you,” he replied smoothly.

Their eyes met briefly, each weighing unspoken words that hovered between them. But before either could say anything more, the soft chime of the elevator broke the moment. Turning toward the sound, they saw their twin sons step out. Y/N and Carlos instantly froze—the boys were dressed identically in pink shirts.

“Mattia, what are you doing dressed like that?” Y/N asked, her voice tinged with confusion and mild annoyance. “We’re leaving for London. You need to change.”

One of the twins crossed his arms, a smug smile playing on his face. “Here’s the thing, Mom. We’ve been talking, and we think we’re being fooled.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Fooled? By who?”

The other twin stepped forward, matching his brother’s stance. “By you and mom. You promised us summer camp. We want to go… together.”

Y/N exchanged a baffled glance with Carlos. “What camp?” Carlos finally asked.

“The one we always go to before school starts,” the first twin clarified, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Y/N took a deep breath, her patience already wearing thin. “Mattia, this is ridiculous. Go upstairs and change. We’re leaving.”

“Are you sure I’m Mattia?” the boy countered, tilting his head innocently.

Y/N shot him a sharp look. “Of course, I’m sure.”

The other twin piped up, a mischievous glint in his eye. “But it’s hard to be 100% sure, isn’t it?”

Both boys grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos they were causing.

Carlos pinched the bridge of his nose. “Kids, this isn’t funny. You’re going to make your mom miss her plane.”

Y/N’s frustration bubbled over. “Mattia!” she snapped.

“Yes?” both boys answered in perfect unison.

Carlos squatted slightly to their eye level, seeing them carefully. After a moment, he pointed to the boy on his right. “You’re Matheo. I’m not mistaken.”

The boy smirked. “Are you sure, Dad? Because it wouldn’t be a good idea to send the wrong child to London again.”

Carlos hesitated, his confidence faltering. He stepped back with a resigned sigh. Y/N threw him an exasperated look, silently pleading for backup, but Carlos simply shrugged, powerless against their twins’ well-executed plan.

“Alright, I have a proposal,” one of the twins declared, stepping forward as if he were brokering a business deal. “Let’s go to Dad’s house, pack everything, and the four of us will go camping together.”

Y/N blinked, completely thrown off. “The four of us?”

“Exactly,” the other twin chimed in. “And when we get back, we’ll tell you who’s Mattia and who’s Matheo.”

Y/N crossed her arms, his patience hanging by a thread. “You’ll do as you’re told. One of you is coming back to London with me, whether you like it or not.” Her voice warned them in an angry mother tone, but the twins were unfazed.

Both boys grinned again, clearly enjoying the chaos they had unleashed. Y/N turned to Carlos, desperate. “You’re their dad! Do something!”

Carlos scratched the back of his neck, suppressing a laugh. “To be fair, this is kind of genius.”

Y/N groaned. “Not helping.”

prev chap

#carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fluff #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #cs55 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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