#really had no idea how to answer at first | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cafelattaes · 19 hours ago

Text

all my heart | geum seongje

summary: a glimpse into what loving geum seongje looks like—messy, soft, deeply yours. and after all these years, he still has all of your heart.

pairing: geum seongje x fem!reader

genre: romance, slice of life

word count: 5.1k

first.

you and seongje had been together for a while now. you'd somehow made it through that rocky stretch hand in hand, and now here you were, college students at different schools, in completely different rhythms of life, but still orbiting each other.

at first, everyone had an opinion. they had plenty to say when you started openly seeing the mad dog of ganghak high. but after a few months, the noise died down. there was simply nothing left to say. you weren't going anywhere, and neither was he.

your parents had been the hardest. not surprised, really. they weren't strict about dating, never hovered too close. but the night they saw him for the first time, walking you home, eyes dark, cheek split, knuckles raw, it was written all over their faces. alarm. disappointment. a hundred questions they didn't want the answers to.

he looked like every bad decision a parent warned their daughter about.

still, they didn't try to tear it apart. maybe because you've never given them a reason not to trust you. you were a good daughter. they hated the idea of him, hated the way he looked at you like the world owed him blood, but they didn't interfere. not yet. not unless they had to. you could feel it hanging in the air though. one day, they'd say they wanted to meet him officially. and when that day came... well. you'd deal with it.

college life came with its quiet perks. one of them being the blessed indifference of your peers. no whispers. no curious stares. no one cornering you to ask what you saw in "that guy". people mostly kept to themselves, and for the most part, you liked it that way. you were finally able to like him without feeling like you owed the world an explanation for it.

which is why it threw you completely off when he showed up. out of nowhere. again.

you had told him you were going out with your friends, just a casual hangout after class. you hadn't bothered to mention where, because you didn't think you needed to. it wasn't like you were hiding anything. but it turned out you didn't even need to tell him. somehow, seongje always found you. like he had a sixth sense for when you were around other guys. or a tracker. you still weren't sure which one it was.

and this time, he didn't just lurk from afar like he sometimes did. he walked straight into the middle of your day and picked a fight. literally.

he didn't like the look of the guys in your group. or maybe it was just the fact that there were guys. you could tell he had already made up a story in his head about who they were and why they were there, and that was enough for him to square up like it was high school all over again. you tried, really tried to pull him aside, to talk him down, to tell him that he was blowing things out of proportion, but he didn't even look at you. like your voice didn't matter once his temper had already started rolling downhill.

and to make things worse, it turned out the guys in your group did have some kind of history with the union. not deep, but enough to make seongje grin like he'd just been handed an excuse on a silver platter.

the tension cracked. words were exchanged. chairs were scraped back. and you stood there, stuck, watching the day spiral while your friends looked at you with wide eyes and quiet apologies.

one of the girls leaned over to whisper, "sorry... the guys shouldn't have egged him on."

but all you could do was shake your head, eyes still fixed on seongje like you were trying to make sense of how quickly things had unraveled.

"no," you muttered, jaw tight. "i should be the one apologizing."

because he came uninvited. he started it.

and it wasn't just the fight, it was the way he completely brushed off your voice when you told him to stop. like your presence wasn't enough to make him pause. like your boundaries came second to whatever score he thought he had to settle. you knew how seongje was, violent, impulsive, always bristling with the urge to break something, but he wasn't supposed to treat you like noise in the background.

he didn't need to protect you from anything today. he just needed to respect you. and right now, he didn't.

the doorbell had been ringing for ten minutes straight.

you'd muted your phone after the fifth message. then came the calls. then knocking. then the doorbell again, rhythmic like he was playing a game. you didn't have to check to know who it was. no one else was that annoyingly persistent. eventually, your patience snapped, and you stormed to the door just to shut him up.

he barely looked relieved when you opened it, like he expected you to slam it in his face instead. his phone was still clutched in one hand, unread messages stacked like unfinished apologies. his hair was a mess, his jacket crooked, but his eyes were locked onto yours.

"...can i come in?"

you didn't answer. just stepped aside.

you didn't say anything as you walked back in either. didn't acknowledge the way he followed you like a puppy that didn't know where to sit. his mouth opened, maybe to try something stupid, but when you shot him a look over your shoulder, he shut up for once.

he settled on the couch. quietly. which was almost suspicious.

you turned, intending to retreat to your room, but the second you passed him, he hooked a lazy finger into your belt loop. the tug was gentle, but it halted your escape. you huffed, glaring down at him, but he didn't even look fazed. he just pulled you in.

you didn't resist, though you did sigh in disbelief as he shifted you onto his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. his arms wrapped loosely around you waist, then his forehead came to rest against your shoulder.

no smirk. no cocky remark. just stillness. he stayed quiet, but it wasn't peace.

it was tension. his arms were around you, but his jaw was clenched. you could feel it, he was holding back, like if he spoke, the wrong words would come out. again.

you sighed and stared straight ahead. "we already talked about this."

his fingers tightened a fraction around your waist. "...i know."

your throat tightened. "i already told you not to pull that shit again, seongje."

"...i know."

you pulled back, just enough to look at him, and he didn't meet your eyes. that alone annoyed you more than the words. it was like he was agreeing just to make it stop. like this whole thing wasn't serious, like he hadn't embarrassed you in front of your new friends, ignored you when you told him to stop, acted like you didn't matter in the middle of it all.

"if you're gonna talk like that," you said, voice sharpening like a blade, "then don't talk to me at all. and don't bother showing up if you're just gonna ignore everything i say."

that landed.

you felt it immediately, the way his arms stiffened around you, the sudden cold edge that cut through his expression. his head lifted slightly, and when he looked at you, his eyes had lost that sheepish desperation.

not angry at you, not quite, but he was frustrated. at the situation. at himself. at the fact that this wasn't going his way. seongje never liked not getting what he wanted. and right now, what he wanted was you to forgive him without making him feel small.

but he wasn't stupid. he knew what would happen if he pushed you again.

you'd gone silent on him before. days of unread messages, no answers, no sightings. it drove him halfway mad.

he'd sworn to himself he wouldn't let that happen again.

"...fine." his tone came sharp, his voice clipped. "i won't do it again."

you narrowed your eyes. that tone—like he was doing you a favor.

you stood up.

he grabbed your wrist before you could walk away, firm but not forceful. he didn't pull, just held.

then, in a voice that barely registered above a breath, he said, "i'm sorry."

you froze. he didn't look at you when he said it. his head was lowered again, gaze locked somewhere near the floor. his grip loosened slightly, as if expecting you to pull away. as if he'd already braced for the worst.

you didn't say anything.

you were still pissed. but still... there was something about the way he said it.

he did not apologize. not to anyone. he didn't believe in it. thought it was dumb. weak. but ever since he met you, he'd been doing a lot of things he never thought he would. giving in. holding back. trying.

and right now, it was written all over him, the struggle, the resentment, the need.

you didn't melt, not entirely, but something in you softened. just a little. because you knew what it took for him to say that word. and how much it killed him to be the one begging to be forgiven.

you stayed still. not because you didn't hear it, but because you did. because it sounded so unlike him that you needed a second just to let it settle in.

then with a quiet motion, his hand slid gently around your wrist, then your waist, coaxing you toward him until you were standing between his knees. he wrapped his arms around your hips, slow and steady, and leaned his head against your stomach.

not a word. just his arms, warm and solid. his forehead pressing into your shirt like he was waiting. not demanding, not begging. just waiting for you to forgive him.

you let out a long sigh, loud enough for him to hear. you weren't ready to let him off easy, not when you had every right to be upset, but you also weren't cruel.

your hand moved slowly to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair, rubbing at his scalp in small, deliberate strokes. that was all he needed.

seongje exhaled deeply, almost in relief, and pulled you into his lap again without a second's hesitation.

his forehead met yours, eyes locked on you with something softer than guilt. apology. maybe even gratitude. you could feel it, the way he was turning soft for you, even if he didn't know how to hold it. his rage never vanished, it just curled its way into something quieter.

your hands came up to cradle his face, fingers pressing gently into his cheeks. "i'm serious." you said, tilting his face toward yours so he couldn't look away. "you don't get to pretend like nothing happened. you have to actually try."

he didn't answer. didn't agree, didn't joke. just leaned in closer, and closer, waiting.

you didn't make him wait long.

the kiss wasn't rushed or hungry, it wasn't sharp like most of what existed between you. it was slow and careful. his mouth brushed yours like he still thought you might pull away. you didn't.

he sighed into your lips like he needed the kiss to steady him. and maybe he did.

when you finally pulled away, the kiss still warm on your lips, you let out a breath. not with frustration this time, but something gentler. something that settled deep in your chest.

you stared at him, eyes tracing every detail like you were trying to memorize him all over again. the dark lashes that curled a little too perfectly, the stubborn cut near his cheekbone, the beauty mark under his eye.

"you've got such a pretty face," you murmured, brushing a thumb across his cheek. "makes it easier to forgive you."

that was all it took. seongje flushed so fast it was almost impressive. his whole face went red, the color kept crawling down his neck and all the way to his ears.

"fuck off," he blurted and shoved you off his lap.

you stumbled backward with a yelp. but he was just as quick to shoot his hand out, fingers curling tight around your wrist to yank you right back in.

"fucking—stay still," he muttered, flustered beyond repair. he crushed you against his chest like a feral cat with its prey. his heart thudding hard against your ear, giving away everything he wouldn't say out loud.

you wriggled a little in protest, not really trying to escape. "you are so infuriating," you muttered, breathing out a laugh despite yourself. "you're lucky i love you."

you felt him stiffened. he didn't respond right away. just slumped forward, pressing his forehead against your shoulder like he couldn't take it. like those words short-circuited something inside him.

every single time you said it, he folded like a paper.

his breath faltered against your skin before he bit you. sharp and sudden, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp. you jerked against him in surprise, only to feel the swipe of his tongue over the spot like an apology.

"fuck," he rasped, voice rough. "stop saying shit like that."

"like what?" you asked, breath catching. you were still reeling from the bite.

he scoffed, but it was weak. almost like he choked on it. "you know what it does to me."

"so you want me to stop?" you tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet your eyes. "really?"

he didn't answer, didn't have to. because the look on his face said everything. the ache in his eyes, the way his mouth pressed into a tight line, the way his hands were still gripping your shirt like he was terrified you'd slip away if he let go.

"we're getting sidetracked. you can't just bite me and hope i'll forget."

he scowled. "worked last time."

"it didn't," you lied.

he narrowed his eyes. "then why aren't you yelling anymore?"

you rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "you are the worst."

eventually, he leaned in again. pressed his forehead to yours like he didn't know how else to be close. like saying sorry with words still felt foreign, but this, this closeness, he could do. you smiled.

"you're so adorable sometimes."

"shut up," he hissed through clenched teeth, burying his face into your neck to hide what little pride he had left. his arms coiled tighter around your waist, every inch of his body pressed close like you were the only thing anchoring him to the moment.

god, he belonged to you in ways even he didn't understand.

you ran your fingers through his hair, rubbing slow circles until his breathing evened out. he melted further, practically boneless in your arms. it would've been funny if it weren't so stupidly endearing.

it was that time of the month again. and like clockwork, seongje was at your beck and call.

it was funny, really, how he responded to your cramps like it was a code red emergency every time. he didn't hover exactly, but he was always there. like a shadow. like a guard dog. like someone who had once made a silent promise to never let you suffer alone, even if the enemy was just your own hormones.

it was during the early months of your relationship, back when everything still felt too new. seongje had texted you one saturday morning, casually demanding your presence like he always did. as usual, he expected you to say yes.

instead, you replied with, 'not in the mood'.

it was short, not your usual way of responding to him. well, unless you were upset.

his call came seconds later.

"what the hell do you mean, not in the mood?" his tone sharp, offended, as if the very idea of you turning him down was a personal attack.

you didn't even flinch. just lay there in bed, clutching your stomach. "i'm on my period. i have bad cramps," you answered, voice flat, tired, unbothered.

then there was silence. total silence.

you pulled the phone away from your ear to check if the call had ended.

"hello? still there?"

"...yeah." his voice was lower now. unsure. "i'm here." he paused. "is there... anything i can do?"

you would've laughed, only if you weren't doubled over from pain. it was obvious he didn't know how to react, probably regretting all his impulsive dramatics from three minutes ago. his brain spiraling now that you dropped a truth too real and too biological for someone like him to handle without mentally imploding.

"no, you don't have to do anything. i'll see you next week once i stop dying."

you had imagined him on the other end, slack-jawed and helpless. no cocky comebacks. no pushback. just stunned silence as he tried to process that there were some things he couldn't fix by throwing fists.

but it turns out he had a way of surprising you.

later that same day, he'd shown up at your doorstep. no warning, no messages. just him, standing there with a plastic bag in one hand, a pint of your favorite ice cream in the other, and the most unconvincing attempt at indifference painted across his face.

you blinked at him, confused. "what are you doing here?"

"well," he muttered, eyes darting away. "didn't say i couldn't show up."

his tone was clipped, almost sulky, but you could see the way his eyes flickered nervously, scanning your face like he was bracing himself for rejection. he stood there stiffly, shifting his weight from foot to foot. ready to bolt if you said the word. instead, you let him in.

you spent the afternoon on the couch. he kept his distance, which was weird, suspiciously well-behaved. seongje didn't like giving you space. physical contact had been his default setting ever since he stopped feeling awkward about it. but that day, he was stiff as a board, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the tv like he was forcing himself to focus on the movie.

you didn't comment. just accepted the ice cream and slowly ate it beside him in silence.

and after a while, once the worst of the cramps dulled, you quietly shifted closer and tucked yourself against his side.

"thanks," you murmured, lips brushing the sleeve of his shirt.

he didn't say anything. just exhaled, and finally let his arm wrap around you. not possessively, not urgently, just enough to keep you close, careful not to press where it hurt.

it was the first time he took care of you like that. the first time he showed that he could. it became a routine ever since.

and now, he was still at it.

seongje was sprawled on the floor in front of you, leaning against the coffee table with a bag of heating pads and snacks. he reached up to hand you a warm bottle wordlessly, brows furrowed like he was the one in pain.

"you look like a kicked dog," you mumbled from your cocoon of blankets.

"i feel like one," he grumbled. "you act like you're dying and i'm just supposed to watch?"

"i am dying."

he rolled his eyes but didn't argue. instead, he sat back and stared at the tv, clearly bored. his leg bounced. his fingers drummed.

"wanna fight?"

you didn't even look at him. "no."

"not even verbally? i could call you something mean."

"you could leave."

"or i could stay and be annoying."

"you already are."

he smirked because you were talking. which meant you weren't mad at him for hovering. slowly, he crawled onto the couch, ignoring your half-hearted attempts to push him off. when he finally wedged himself beside you and laid his head in your lap, you sighed.

"i didn't forget your favorite dessert this time."

"that's called being decent."

"it's called caring, brat."

you snorted. "say that again. i dare you."

he sat up halfway, looking like he might say something bold, but thought better of it and flopped back down.

"don't die. i'll get bored." he muffled.

you laughed quietly. when you leaned down to press a kiss to his temple, his eye twitched, like his brain malfunctioned.

"what now?" he asked suspiciously.

"nothing," you said, lips curving into a soft smile. "i just really like you."

he grunted, annoyed. but the red tint in his ears said everything else.

you both weren't doing anything particularly special. just walking. trees lining the path had turned shades of amber, rust, and gold. seongje walked beside you, hands in his coat pockets, shoulders loose, completely at ease.

it was nice. quiet. comfortable.

and maybe that was why it hit you.

you blinked up at the sky, pale and moody in that late-autumn kind of way, and suddenly felt it settle in your chest—that ache. the one that always came with change.

"we're graduating soon," you murmured without meaning to.

he glanced at you, squinting against the sun. "yeah?"

you hummed. there was no need to elaborate, but your brain wouldn't stop there.

soon you'd walk across that stage. soon you'd be holding a degree in your hands. and what then?

what would you be without exams, without early morning classes, without the label of student tied neatly to your identity like a tag?

what would you do?

what would you be?

would everything change?

you didn't mean to spiral, but—

your eyes flicked toward seongje again. he was half a step ahead now, kicking at a stray pinecone. wind caught the ends of his hair, curling them against his cheek. his profile was all sharp lines and shadows, beautiful in the way he always was, aggressively so.

and just like that, it steadied you.

there was a time you thought you wouldn't make it past the first year. too different. too messy. too much history clinging to his name, and too much doubt hanging in the air.

but now, years later, here he was. still beside you. still loud and reckless and impulsive, but softer. only for you. not always, not overtly, but in the little ways that mattered.

he was still him. but somehow, better.

you didn't notice when your steps slowed. he did.

"you good?" he asked, brow quirking.

"yeah," your voice cracked on the word, embarrassingly emotional. you cleared your throat. "just thinking."

"that's dangerous," you let out a breathless laugh.

"do you ever think about how far we've come?"

he stared at you like you just asked him to solve a math equation. "from where?"

"from where we started."

he rolled his eyes. "you hated me when we met."

"you deserved it."

"no arguments there."

you smiled. "but still. you're here."

something passed over his face then, brief, unreadable. but then he was looking away, jaw shifting like he didn't know what to do with the way your words made his chest feel tight.

you reached out and took his hand.

"thank you," you said.

"for what?"

"for everything."

"you're acting like i'm gonna die tomorrow."

you huffed. "you're impossible."

"and you're sappy."

"only when it comes to you."

he made a face, looked away quickly. you caught the tips of his ears turning pink.

maybe it was the way the sunlight filtered through the orange leaves. or maybe it was just the clarity of a moment where nothing else seemed to matter. but you felt it again.

the weight in your chest. but this time, it wasn't fear. it was peace.

with him, the world felt a little less terrifying. a little more manageable. like no matter what the future threw at you, how uncertain, how intimidating, how vast, he'd still be beside you. loud and annoying and occasionally stupid, but there.

yours.

you linked your arm with his, casual like it meant nothing. then you leaned your head against his shoulder. he didn't say anything. just bumped you gently with his arm.

you two kept walking.

but that was everything you could have asked for.

you were making something simple for the two of you, moving around the kitchen with that quiet ease he'd grown used to. the soft clinks and rustles of your movements, it filled the room like background noise he never wanted to lose.

it was the way your presence still settled into his space like it was meant to be there. even after all these years, it still caught him off guard sometimes. how much of his life had quietly shaped itself around you.

he'd never tell you this, wouldn't even admit it if you pried it out of his skull. but somewhere between the convenience store runs and moments he found you sleeping on his shoulder, something in him had slowed down.

he knew then. fuck, he knew. that this was it for him. that there was no one else, and there wouldn't ever be.

and if he wanted to keep you, if he wanted to deserve that kind of peace, then he couldn't keep living like none of it mattered. something had to give.

not because you asked him to. you didn't, even when he was at his worst. you never looked at him with disappointment, never threw his mess in his face like you could've. you saw him. took him as he was, back when he was still half-feral and too wild to sit still for anything except your voice. that was the thing. you loved him without conditions. and that's what made it worse.

because no one ever asked him to be better. and now he wanted to be. just for you.

so he started small. stopped smoking around you the second he realized you didn't like the smell. you never said anything, but then he noticed the way your nose crinkled slightly when he leaned in too close. you still held his face, kissed him like nothing was wrong. but that was enough. he wanted you to want to be close.

he stopped picking fights for the thrill of it. started actually thinking ahead. he still cracked jaws if someone touched you or looked at you the wrong way, but he wasn't out for blood just to feel alive anymore. not when he had you. not when you made him feel alive more than anything else.

he had something better, something real.

he didn't say anything at first. just watched you from the couch, arms draped across the backrest, hair messy, shirt still wrinkled from sleep.

you were just making breakfast like you sometimes did when you stayed over.

but goddamn, he could barely breathe just watching you move.

there were some moments, fleeting and unpredictable, when the weight of how much he loved you knocked the air straight out of his lungs. when his body didn't know what to do with the feeling, and his heart felt too small to hold it all.

this was one of those moments.

he got up without thinking.

you didn't notice him watching. you were too focused, hands moving with quiet intent, your eyes fixed, lips set in that soft line you always wore when you were busy doing something.

he hovered nearby, restless, pacing, almost like he didn't know where to put himself. until finally, he reached for you, curling his fingers gently around your wrist.

you looked up, and there it was again.

the second your eyes met his, the entire world silenced. your lips parted, breath hitching, because that look in his eyes, it always made you want to cry.

he was looking at you like you were the whole damn world.

and you were.

"something up?" you asked in a quiet voice.

he didn't answer. instead, he gently took your hand, fingers a little clumsy, a little too tight, and interlaced them with his own, like it was the only way he could keep the feelings from spilling out of his chest.

and then, with a quiet breath, he brought your joined hands to his lips.

he kissed your ring finger.

slowly. tenderly. reverently.

not like someone touching skin. but like someone touching a vow.

your breath caught.

he held your gaze. "i don't want anything that doesn't have you in it."

his voice was low. rough. not quite steady. his eyes flickered, not with fear, but something close to desperation. like the feeling was too big, too much, and he didn't know how to bleed it out except through touch.

and you understood.

it was all there. in the way his fingers clung to yours, in the way his lips trembled slightly as they brushed your skin, in the way he looked like he'd shatter if you even thought of letting go.

his face became blurry, but you blinked it away.

you just smiled softly and pressed your forehead against his. "good," you whispered. "you're the only one i want to do this life with."

he exhaled, slow and uneven, like your words reached somewhere deep in him that he didn't let anyone else near.

being with him was never easy. there were days he'd withdraw into himself, frustrated with things he couldn't name. times when you wouldn't understand why he shut down, or lashed out, or made things harder than they had to be.

there were arguments, silence, sometimes it hurt, and it took time to come back from that.

but love like yours and his was never meant to be easy.

it was raw. unforgiving in its honesty. and undeniably real.

you never regretted a second of it. not even the ugliest parts.

and maybe—

maybe he didn't have a ring now. maybe it was still hidden in a drawer, still waiting for the perfect moment.

maybe he'd already gone to your parents, awkward and twitchy and sweating like a fucking idiot, asking for your hand even though the very idea of "asking permission" made his skin itch.

maybe it was the first time in his entire life he had ever felt that afraid.

maybe they'd said yes.

they'd seen it, eventually. what you saw. what he'd become for you. what he would always be.

and maybe, just maybe, he was going to give you that ring on your graduation. when the future is right in front of you, when you'd already proven to the world and each other that you could survive it.

but for now, this was enough.

your forever didn't need a clock.

because he knew that he'd keep loving you like it was still the beginning. like every day was the first time you made his chest hurt just by looking at him.

even when life got dull. even when things slowed down. you'd still have all of him.

always.

#geum seongje x reader #seongje x reader #geum seongje #weak hero x reader #geum seong je #geum seongje imagine #geum seongje scenario #whc2 x reader #weak hero class two #wh2 #wolf keum x reader #geum seong je x reader #weak hero #arinwrites

184 notes · View notes

manmuncher777 · 1 day ago

Text

EVERYTHING YOU DESERVE

ROOMMATE TOJI X READER SMUT MDNI

- A/N - was listening to wine pon you by doja cat on loop while writing this. Enjoy little ones

- what happens when toji starts to enjoy your little housewife role a little too much

Living with Toji Fushiguro was supposed to be a temporary arrangement. Split rent, split chores, simple boundaries. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

You weren’t even sure when it started — when you began acting like his little housewife without even meaning to. Cooking extra portions for dinner because you knew he’d come home starving. Folding his laundry with yours because you were doing it anyway. Picking up his favorite snacks on your grocery runs, pretending it was no big deal.

You didnt know what it was, you just got an urge to take care of him, he worked incredibly hard, almost always coming back exhausted. It was the tiredness you could see on him, that weight that he carried on his shoulders. You wanted to ease that for him, after all he was helpful to you as well, always there when you needed him.

An even despite you guys not always being around each other due to schedules, you got on instantly. Just kind of slotting into this lifestyle without ever really addressing it

And Toji — Toji didn’t make it easier.

If anything, he seemed to love it.

He’d lean in close when you handed him his coffee in the mornings, voice still rough with sleep.

“Thanks, sweetheart. What would I do without you?”

He’d ruffle your hair affectionately when you handed him his folded t-shirts, flashing that lazy, crooked grin that made your stomach flip.

“Gonna make some poor bastard real happy someday.”

You’d always roll your eyes, laugh it off, pretend your heart wasn’t pounding so loud it echoed in your ears.

You got along too well — that was the problem.

The banter, the teasing, the way he’d steal bites from your plate when you weren’t looking, the way he always seemed to find an excuse to touch you — a hand brushing your lower back as he reached past you, a casual tug on the sleeve of your hoodie when he wanted your attention.

It was easy.

Dangerously easy.

But you weren’t dating.

You were just… friends. Roommates. Nothing more.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Even when he walked around the apartment shirtless, towel slung low on his hips after a shower, hair still dripping down his neck.

Even when he shot you little smirks across the kitchen, voice dipping into that low, teasing drawl just to watch you squirm.

Even when he made dumb flirty comments you tried to laugh off, like when he caught you baking cookies one night and said,

“Gonna spoil me rotten if you keep this up, housewife.”

You had no idea if he meant anything by it. But you felt it — the way the tension thrummed low between you two, coiling tighter every day you pretended not to notice.

And honestly?

You weren’t sure how much longer you could pretend.

The door slammed shut behind him with a heavy thud.

The kind of slam that said bad day.

Long, brutal, and bloody.

Toji shrugged out of his jacket with a grunt, running a hand through his hair, tension practically radiating off him in thick, heavy waves. His body ached, his knuckles were raw, his patience was worn thin — and the apartment was too damn quiet.

He called out your name, voice low and rough.

No answer.

A frown pulled at his mouth. He kicked off his boots and padded through the apartment, following the faintest hints of movement — the soft clatter of plates, the distant scent of something warm and delicious cooking.

But first, his bedroom caught his eye. And what he saw made him pause in the doorway.

Laid neatly across his bed were a set of fresh towels and clean clothes — sweats, a t-shirt, boxers, everything he could possibly need — folded with a kind of careful tenderness he hadn’t been on the receiving end of in… fuck, he didn’t even know how long.

And on top of the pile, a little note in your handwriting, simple and sweet:

“Bath’s ready. Dinner’s almost done. Relax a little, yeah?”

He just stood there for a second, staring at it.

A bath. You’d run him a damn bath.

It was stupid — soft shit he didn’t deserve — but the tightness in his chest shifted, loosening into something that felt dangerously close to affection. Without a word, he grabbed the towels and padded down the hall to the bathroom.

The door was already slightly open, warm steam curling into the air.

And when he stepped inside?

Fuck.

You hadn’t just run the water.

You’d gone all out.

The tub was nearly overflowing with bubbles, rich with the smell of whatever expensive bath salts you kept under the sink — lavender and something warm and clean, the kind of scent that immediately eased the tight coil of stress in his gut. The lights were dimmed low, soft and golden, and there was even a goddamn candle flickering on the edge of the sink.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or groan.

It was too much.

Too nice.

Too thoughtful.

He didn’t deserve this.

He didn’t deserve you.

Still, he stripped out of his clothes, sank into the hot water, and let himself have it.

Just for tonight.

Just for you.

He closed his eyes, head tipping back against the porcelain, the heat working its way deep into his battered muscles.

He could almost pretend — for a minute — that he wasn’t what he was.

That he was just a man with a girl who cared enough to make things soft for him when the world outside was so fucking hard.

By the time he hauled himself out of the tub and dried off, the worst of the day’s tension had melted away, leaving him heavy-limbed and a little dazed.

He pulled on the clean clothes you left him — the fabric soft and worn in all the right ways — and padded barefoot back toward the kitchen.

And there you were.

Dressed in your cute little pajamas, tank top and shorts with little hello kitty face printed over them, hair a little messy, standing at the stove like some dream he wasn’t sure he deserved to touch.

The table was already set — two plates, forks, a bottle of that beer he liked.

You were humming softly under your breath, moving around with an ease that made his heart ache. When you turned and caught sight of him, your whole face lit up, a smile so sweet and soft it nearly knocked the air from his lungs.

“Perfect timing,” you said, gesturing for him to sit. “Food’s ready.”

And Toji — this man who had stared down death more times than he could count, who had blood on his hands and scars he didn’t dare show anyone — He stood there, staring at you like you’d hung the goddamn stars.

It hit him all at once, sudden and brutal — how badly he wanted you.

Not just your body (though fuck, that too) — but you.

Your kindness. Your laughter. The way you made a home out of nothing but four shitty walls and a broken man.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he muttered, voice rough, a little thick.

You just shrugged, smiling again, so casually sweet it made his chest ache. “Could tell You had a rough day. I just wanted to help.”

He sat down heavily at the table, hands still damp from the towel, heart pounding far too fast for a man who was supposed to be good at hiding how he felt.

His eyes stayed on you — drinking you in like he was starving — while you fussed around, plating the food, grabbing him an extra napkin, topping off his beer.

Fuck.

You were dangerous.

Way more dangerous than anything he fought on the streets.

And the worst part?

He didn’t even want to resist.

Toji sat down heavily at the table, the chair creaking under his weight as you set a plate in front of him, still warm and steaming.

The smell alone made his stomach growl — rich and hearty, everything he didn’t realize he’d been craving all day.

“You didn’t have to go all out,” he muttered, voice rougher than he meant. But you just smiled at him, a little sheepish, and shrugged like it was nothing.

“You had a rough day. I just wanted to make it better.” You repeated again, trying to get him to understand you never minded doing these things for him, if anything you enjoyed it

Fuck.

The words hit him harder than they should’ve.

Worse, the way you said them — casual, sweet, so unaware of the way you were gutting him alive without even trying — made it even worse.

He picked up his fork, stabbing at the food like it had done something to offend him.

Took a bite.

And immediately stopped breathing.

Holy shit.

It was… good.

No, it was fucking amazing.

Home-cooked. Perfectly seasoned. Comforting in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

Each bite eased something tight inside his chest, like you were fixing parts of him he didn’t even realize were broken.

He watched you flit around the kitchen out of the corner of his eye — opening his beer for him, sitting across the table with your own plate, babbling a little about your day — and he couldn’t help it.

He stared.

You were just… so fucking pretty.

Hair a little messy. A faint smudge of flour on your cheek. Wearing nothing special.

You could’ve been wearing a paper bag and he still would’ve thought you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

He shifted in his seat, feeling the beginnings of a problem he really didn’t want to deal with — not while you were sitting right there, looking at him with those big, bright eyes, like he was something good instead of a monster.

“You’re staring,” you said after a minute, cheeks flushing under the weight of his gaze.

Toji grunted, pretending to focus on his food again.

But it was hopeless.

Every little thing you did — the way you tucked your legs up on the chair, the way you smiled without even realizing it, the way you kept sneaking glances at him like you were worried he wasn’t eating enough —

It was killing him.

Fucking killing him.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken care of him like this.

No expectations. No strings. Just… you, trying to make his night a little easier.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, setting his fork down with a heavy clink.

“You’re gonna kill me, y’know that?” he muttered, voice low and rough.

You blinked at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

Toji just shook his head, sitting back in his chair and dragging a hand through his hair like it could fix the mess you were making of him.

“You have no fuckin’ idea,” he said under his breath, half to himself, half to you.

No idea how goddamn good you are.

No idea how bad he wants you.

He took another slow look at you — sweet, smiling, so damn proud of yourself for making him a nice dinner — and felt something inside him snap.

This was bad.

This was real bad.

Because Toji didn’t just want to fuck you.

He wanted to keep you.

And that was a whole different kind of dangerous.

The second you looked away — just a blink, just a tiny little thing — Toji was up from his chair.

The scrape of it against the floor made you jump, wide-eyed as he stalked around the table toward you like something primal, something starved.

“Toji—?” you started, confused.

You didn’t even get the words out before he was in front of you, hands dropping heavy on your thighs, dragging you forward in your seat like it wasn’t even a question.

You gasped, instinctively grabbing his shoulders, but he was already lowering himself down, kneeling between your legs like you were something sacred.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, voice so deep it barely sounded human, “you’ve got no idea what you do to me, do you?”

Your brain was scrambling, struggling to catch up.

You opened your mouth to say something — to protest, to ask what the hell he was doing — but he just pressed his forehead against your bare thigh, breathing you in like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“I can’t—I can’t fuckin’ stand it,” he said roughly, voice breaking a little at the edges. “You takin’ care of me like that. You bein’ so fuckin’ sweet. Lookin’ at me like you don’t even know how perfect you are.”

His hands slid up, gripping your hips with enough force to leave bruises if he wanted to — and god, he wanted to — and you whimpered, heat flashing through you so fast it made you dizzy.

“Toji—” you whispered again, but softer now, more like a plea than a protest.

He lifted his head, finally meeting your eyes.

And the look on his face — raw, desperate, hungry — knocked the breath right out of your lungs.

“You ruined me, y’know that?” he rasped, voice rough. “You—makin’ me dinner. Leavin’ me notes. Lookin’ at me like that. Bein’ so fuckin’ good.”

His mouth found your inner thigh, kissing you through the thin material of your shorts, his stubble dragging rough against your skin.

You whimpered, fingers twisting in his hair without even meaning to.

“I gotta thank you,” he muttered, voice muffled against your skin. “Gotta make you feel good too. Need you to know—fuck, need you to know what you mean to me.”

His hands slid up further, gripping your waist and lifting you up like it was nothing, setting you down on the table in front of him, plates and cutlery clattering to the side like he couldn’t care less.

Your legs fell open instinctively, breath coming in short, shaky bursts, and Toji just groaned, like the sight of you wrecked him.

“Shiiit, sweetheart,” he breathed, “you’re gonna kill me.”

Then he was on you — mouth dragging hot and desperate over your thighs, hands everywhere, pulling you closer, touching you like he couldn’t get enough — like he would never get enough.

And you — you were still reeling, still trying to understand how you’d gone from sitting at dinner to having Toji, your roommate, on his knees for you —

But god, you didn’t care.

Not when he was looking at you like that. Not when he was touching you like you were something precious. Not when he was whispering things against your skin like thank you and need you and so fucking good for me.

You tangled your fingers tighter in his hair, pulling him closer.

“Toji,” you breathed, voice breaking.

He looked up at you — pupils blown wide, breathing heavy — and grinned, all teeth and wicked promise.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he rasped, mouth brushing your inner thigh again, “I’m gonna take real good care of you now.”

You barely had time to whimper before he was pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thighs, nosing closer, breathing you in like he was memorizing every part of you.

And when he finally got your panties off — a slow drag down your legs, a filthy little groan rumbling low in his chest when he saw you — he just stared for a second, like you were something holy.

“Look at you,” he muttered, voice wrecked, “so fuckin’ pretty for me.” Then his mouth was on you — warm, wet, perfect — and you cried out, back arching off the table. Toji just groaned, like the taste of you was better than anything he’d ever had.

“Goddamn,” he breathed against you, licking a slow stripe up your soaked pussy, “this all for me, sweetheart?”

You whimpered, hips bucking, too overwhelmed to answer — and he loved it. Mind reeling at the sight in front of you, something you wanted burned into your memory forever.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed, big hands sliding under your ass to hold you still, “gonna take care of you. Just let me, baby.”

He worked you open with his mouth, lazy and thorough like he had all the time in the world, like he wanted to savor every sound you made, every twitch and whimper and gasp. And he praised you the whole time — Telling you how good you tasted, how sweet you were, how perfect you felt.

“You’re doin’ so good for me,” he muttered, lips dragging wet over your clit, “so sweet, so fuckin’ sweet—”

Your thighs shook around his head, fingers digging into his messy dark hair, but he just growled low and held you there, mouthing at you like a man possessed. You were close, so close, and he knew it — could feel it in the way your body trembled, the desperate little whines falling from your lips.

“That’s it,” he rasped, voice all wrecked and rough, “come for me, sweetheart. Wanna taste you. Need it, need you.”

The words alone sent you over the edge —

A cry tearing from your throat as you came, thighs squeezing around his head, body shaking apart.

And Toji — fuck, Toji groaned, palming himself through his sweats like he couldn’t even help it, like just getting you off was enough to ruin him.

He kept licking you through it, slow and soft, until you were whimpering, too sensitive, pushing weakly at his head. Finally, finally, he pulled back — face wrecked, mouth shiny with you, eyes dark and wild.

He stood, towering over you, and god, he was hard, straining against his sweats.

But he didn’t reach for himself.

He reached for you.

Scooped you into his arms like you weighed nothing, carried you to his room, dropped you on his bed like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held.

You blinked up at him, dazed, still panting — and he smiled, all soft and wicked.

“C’mere, baby,” he said, voice low and tender, “ain’t done with you yet.”

The look in his eyes taking it out of you, the care in his eyes. Like you were the most precious thing he had ever seen. You rarely got to see him so soft with you. And you werent complaining. To have him so happy to please you was unreal.

He stripped off his sweats with one hand, tossing them aside — and you whimpered when you saw him, thick and hard and dripping for you.

Toji knelt on the bed, settling between your legs, and stroked himself slow, teasing, as he looked at you.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he said, voice gone hoarse, “gonna make you feel even better. Gonna fuck you real nice, sweetheart.”

Huge hands finding your hips once more, flipping you onto your stomach while you just let him. Hands finding comfort in his bed sheets, the scent of him wafting into your senses.

You felt the bed dip under his hulking frame, instinctively arching your hips, begging for him. He had ruined you just as much as you ruined him, and now you needed him inside you like your lungs needed air.

“Toji- please~”

“Shhh, s’okay pretty, im here.” Leaning down, pressing his front against your back as his lips traced over the shell of your ear.

He lined himself up, not pushing in yet, just rubbing the thick head of his cock against your soaked folds — dragging slow, teasing circles around your clit — and you whimpered, hips canting up desperately.

Toji just grinned.

“Such a needy little thing,” he murmured, “got you all worked up, huh? Gotta take care of you.”

And then — finally — he pushed in. A gutteral groan leaving him with every inch he sunk into you

Slow and thick and deep — splitting you open inch by inch, the stretch burning in the best way.

You cried out, hands scrambling in the sheets, but he just shushed you, wrapping one of his thick arms around your neck, pulling your head back for a kiss, keeping you in a gentle headlock.

“You’re doin’ so good, baby,” he whispered, voice ragged with the effort of holding himself back, “so good for me. Takin’ me so fuckin’ well.”

He bottomed out with a shuddering groan, burying himself inside you, so deep you swore you could feel him in your throat.

He stayed there for a second — breathing hard, kissing the back of your head — like he was trying to memorize the feeling of you wrapped around him.

And then he started to move.

Slow, deep thrusts at first, grinding his hips down with every roll of his body, making you feel every inch of him.

And he wouldn’t shut up —Praising you between every thrust, every kiss.

“So good, sweetheart, feel so fuckin’ good—”

“God, you’re perfect, you’re perfect—”

“Never lettin’ you go, you hear me? You’re mine now.”

You could barely answer — barely breathe — but you didn’t have to.

He could feel everything you were giving him in the way your body clung to him, the way you gasped and moaned and writhed under him.

And when you started to tighten around him, clenching so sweet and desperate he could barely see straight, he lost it.

“That’s it,” he rasped, hips stuttering, “c’mon, baby. Come for me again. Wanna feel you, need it—”

His thrusts speeding up now, body moulded to yours. His grip around your neck squeezing lightly, trying to get you there, needing to get you there

You shattered around him with a broken cry, body arching, one hand flying to the forearm wrapped son perfectly around your neck, nails digging into the skin. Needing to touch him in any way you can. Toji groaned, fucking you through it, chasing his own high with reckless, desperate thrusts.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasped, “so fuckin’ good—”

He came with a ragged moan, hips jerking against you, spilling deep inside you, forehead dropping to your shoulder.

You lay there tangled together, both of you panting, sweaty, wrecked.

Toji kissed your neck, your shoulder, every inch of skin he could reach, murmuring low praises between kisses.

“Sweetest thing I ever had,” he whispered against your skin, voice shaking a little, “my sweet girl.”

You shivered, tears pricking your eyes at the tenderness of it.

And when he finally pulled out, groaning at the loss, he just wrapped you up in his arms, pulling you close against his chest like he couldn’t stand the idea of letting you go.

“You’re mine now, sweetheart,” he whispered into your hair, voice rough and raw and true.

“Mine.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #toji fushiguro smut #toji x you #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #toji zenin smut

163 notes · View notes

starryeyed-apple · 2 days ago

Text

everything you need

summary: Due to your period pain, you have to cancel a date with Xavier. He stays by your side and comforts you throughout it.

★pairing: Xavier x Reader ★wc: 2.8k ★content: Reader has menstrual cycles (no mention of gender), description of periods (cramps, nausea, brief mentions of blood, taking medication for pain/nausea). Hurt/comfort, very soft, teeny bit of angst. Xavier takes care of Reader during their period, is generally supportive and the sweetest boyfriend. Xavier calls Reader Starlight, sweetheart, baby. Xavier's phone nickname is bunbun bf. References to Horizon’s Pulse. ★a/n: I finally played Horizon’s Pulse and cried. And then I wanted to write my first Xavier fic as a little follow-up to it, but it turned into a totally self-indulgent period comfort fic? But I love it, and hope it's comforting to others too <3 (I haven't played Feverish Attempts yet, so there's no spoilers for that in here) masterlist ★ read on ao3

Periods had always knocked you the fuck out.

It was something you had to gently make Xavier aware of once your relationship really progressed into something serious. Something that meant nights spent at each other’s place, which could bring with it issues if his apartment wasn't well-stocked for your monthly needs.

He hadn’t even blinked when you first brought it up. He only asked you what types of products you preferred, nodding intently when you listed off your favorite brands along with the other necessities—painkillers (most of his were unopened and expired, as he neglected his occasional injures and “never got sick”) and a heating pad (again, old, as in it's like he’s had the thing for decades old, just like the one Gran had back home).

“I can get bad cramps,” you reply, a bit awkwardly as you notice his brows furrow, light eyelashes fluttering with a look of concern. You weren’t embarrassed—you just didn’t want to worry him. You were used to it, but he wasn’t. “Like, really bad. Back in high school I’d miss classes, or full days. All I could do was lie down in the bathroom until it passed.”

“Does it still get that bad?” His voice is soft, his eyes pained. There’s something that flashes through them too quick, but the only evidence of the fleeting, haunted expression is how he reaches for your hand and holds on tight.

You hesitate. “Sometimes.”

He stares down at your hand in his, tracing his thumb down over your veins. It rubs over your pulse point, and he’s so quiet for a moment, you wonder if he’s counting the beats.

Why, though, you’re not sure.

“I won’t die from cramps, Xavier,” you laugh, and his face pinches again, turning downwards until all you can see is his fluffy hair.

He presses a kiss to where your heart races underneath his lips, then peers up at you through his long, elegant lashes. You stroke your free hand over his cheek, gazing into those pools of serene blue. He nuzzles into your hand, getting as lost in you.

“Promise?” he mumbles quietly, and you fail to stifle a snort at his cuteness.

“Mhm.” You nod, giggling again at his petulant pout towards your noncommittal answer. “Promise.”

He walks to your favorite convenience store a few blocks away that night, picking out all the things you’d listed, and more. There’s electrolyte drinks and little cookies, and three heating pads in the bags he brings back. They all have different cloths and settings, and he insists you try out each to decide which one helps best.

A couple mornings later is when the cramps hit. It’s a lighter period, pain and flow wise, and you’re grateful he doesn’t have to see it so bad that first time.

Xavier wasn’t exactly the type to hover—even if he got clingy, he knew you were capable. But maybe that was the reason why your menstrual cycle always seemed to stress him out a bit. He just didn’t seem to like the idea of your own body taking you out of commission.

Curled around your favorite heating pad on the couch—one with a cute little star pattern on the fabric, you were happy at the coincidence since you liked its heat settings the most—you sip at one of the juice boxes he’d gotten for you, while he gently massages your feet in his lap.

For a moment, he seems to hesitate. Then he asks, softly, the words almost lost in the calm air of the moment, “Do you want me to track it?”

You blink, glancing at him. “Track it?”

“Yeah.” Xavier shifts, pressing his thumb into your heel in pleasant circles before meeting your eyes. “If that would help you be prepared for when it comes. Only if you’re comfortable with it, though.”

You smile, heart swelling with affection for this man who’d stumbled into your life—or maybe you’d stumbled into his.

Or maybe everything had been leading you to each other all along.

You’d agreed, and that was that. Xavier tracked your cycle alongside you with your consent, gently reminding you of its possible effects on you when your emotions were too high, and realization may slip.

Somehow, those moments didn’t frustrate you. Maybe it was just the gentle ease with which Xavier spoke, his boundless patience and genuine grace, especially when it came to you.

So you weren’t really sure how you both managed to miss it this time.

You were glad it had fallen on the weekend, at least, so you didn’t have to either waste a sick day or be forced to tough it out, going into fighting Wanderers while already bleeding. But you were also pissed as hell that your cramps kept you bedridden for both your days off.

Worse, you had to cancel your day trip with Xavier out to a popular new hotpot restaurant on the farther edge of the city.

Even worse than that, he knew right away that something was wrong.

Xavier was never one to be upset over canceled plans. He was just as happy curling up on the couch with you, enjoying some favorite takeout with a cheesy movie on in the background.

You usually weren’t so upset at waylaid plans either. You could be as much a homebody as your cozy boyfriend, especially considering just how cozy he could be when you were all snuggled up.

(Recently, you even had to make a rule to keep him in another room as you were getting ready to go out, so you wouldn’t be pulled into a cuddle session that ended up in missed dinner reservations.)

But this date, you had been looking forward to. You’d set reminders on both your phones, and a heart nestled next to a star on the old-fashioned calendar hanging in his living room.

The food had sounded so good for the week leading up to it, and maybe that strong craving should’ve been a hint to check your own calendar system, in hindsight. But there hadn't been a mark for it on his, either. It had slipped both your minds this time around.

The pinching, throbbing pain in your abdomen waking you up on the Saturday you were set for your date let you know the gravity of your mistake.

“Fuck,” you hissed, clutching at your stomach as you pulled yourself up and into the bathroom, doubled over from the added nausea the pain brought with it.

It was a good thing you were sleeping in your own apartments that morning. Better not to scare Xavier with the potential of blood on his spotless white sheets or, worse, give him a heart attack if he woke up to find you curled up on the bathroom floor.

You don’t know how long your forehead was pressed to the cool tile, until you were able to pull yourself up enough to force down some pain reliever from the medicine cabinet. Stumbling back to bed with a cold washcloth pressed over the back of your neck, you grabbed for your phone to send him a quick text.

You blinked in surprise to find he had already sent two messages about an hour ago.

Morning, Starlight. Can I come over early Can't wait to see U

Your phone pings again, and you rub your eyes.

bunbun bf poked you R U awake

You poise your fingers to type a reply, pondering your excuses, but stop when another message bubble pops up from him.

It says read. U feeling okay

You sigh, rubbing your forehead. How does he already know?

I'm okay. Hey, think we can do our hotpot date another day? Just feeling tired. I think yesterday's mission wore me out more than I realized.

Mid-typing another response, your phone pings again.

Liar I'm coming over now

You groan, wondering if you wanted to push back on this, before tossing your phone to the side.

Maybe he could grab your soda crackers from the kitchen. You were still nauseous, and you didn’t have the strength to go crawling for them right now.

What felt like only a few seconds later had Xavier knocking on your front door, even before he used his thumbprint to let himself in. You wonder if he teleported down here.

“Sweetheart?”

His footprints lead straight to your bedroom, and you hear his breath catch the moment he sees you from the doorway.

Now you really wonder if he teleported, because he’s by your side in an instant, hand pressed to your forehead, gently turning your face so he can see you.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is hushed, sweet and gentle as ever. But you hear the undercurrent of worry that rushes his words just a bit, even quicker with panic the more he talks. “Are you sick? Are you in pain? Did you get injured yesterday? I didn’t notice anything.”

You shake your head, and his assessment scans down your body. He gently nudges away the sheets curled around your sweaty, clammy skin.

“Oh, Starlight,” he whispers, rubbing his warm palms around where you clutch at your abdomen. “I’m sorry, I must’ve forgotten to note it down. Shit.”

You manage to arch an eyebrow. Sure, Xavier could have quite the dirty mouth on him when the mood struck—especially when a certain mood struck—but something about this felt especially frustrated. An irritation turned inwards.

“Hey,” you murmur, nudging his thigh with your knee once you get it free of the sheets. “Don’t be mad at yourself. It must’ve come early. Or late, who knows. It happens.”

He sighs, focusing back in on you. His eyes are big and caring, blond hair shining with a golden sheen in the morning light that peeks through your curtains.

“What can I do for you?”

You just about melt at that, smiling weakly up at him.

“Can you get my crackers?”

He’s nodding, already moving towards the door. “Nauseous? Do you have your—”

“No, I’m out,” you sigh, pinching your nose as you remember you’d put off refilling your anti nausea medication. “Can you check for—”

“Gatorade, yeah, if there isn’t any I’ll order some,” he calls softly from rustling around in the kitchen, a place where you’d usually dread Xavier spending time in.

You don’t need to ask to know he’ll pay for rushed delivery if there isn’t any of your favorite flavor in your fridge. You also don’t need to tell him you’ll pay him back for it, knowing he’ll frown deeper and deeper at you until you relent.

Unfortunately, it’s a period that knocks you out. You’re out of commission for most the day, and that general feeling of malaise lingers into night.

Xavier refuses to leave your side. It lets him see firsthand how much you droop the closer you get to when your dinner reservation was, now canceled. Like a flower without sunlight, curling in on itself to drop all its petals, one by one.

He rubs his hand down your back or massages across your abdomen when you want it, and pulls back to give you space when you don’t. He plays your favorite music on his phone when you sniffle in the silence, and continues to hum the songs when his phone runs out of battery.

Xavier doesn’t comment when you turn over, just silently sets his book aside to hold you when you curl up on his chest. He doesn’t complain when the warmth of the heating pad begins to sear between you, doesn’t pull back when your tears stain his favorite white hoodie.

“Are you sad?” He asks quietly when your crying begins to ease. It may seem a silly question, but you know he wants to hear it from you, if there's anything in particular upsetting you.

You sniff. “No,” you mumble into his chest.

His thumbs massages circles into a tense muscle on your hip, and you sink into him. “Really?” He hums.

You stiffen, then sigh. “No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head. Then, a moment later, you confess anyway, feeling like you'll explode if you don't, “I just…I was looking forward to our date.”

“I know, baby,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We can always go another time.”

You feel the tears brimming again. “I know. But I—I wanted to go today.”

“I know,” he murmurs again, soothing and unbothered by your jumbled feelings.

“I wanted to go so bad and I’m just so mad—I hate when this happens, I hate how it just knocks me out.”

Xavier continues to run his soothing touch along your back in circles, letting you talk until you start to make sense out of your emotions.

“It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not,” you confirm his gentle reassurance, sniffling again. “It still sucks, though.”

“It does,” he reaffirms. “It’s not fair.” Then, quieter, “I hate seeing you unwell.”

You hold him tighter. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He hooks his finger under your chin, lifting your face for a gentle kiss. It’s chaste, a familiar, unhurried gesture of affection. “I just wish I could help more.”

“You do more than enough.”

Xavier just hums again, stroking your back and humming your favorite songs until you fall asleep.

In the morning, you wake to find him gone.

You frown, confused and more than a little sad at the empty side of the bed. At least the cramps have eased enough that you can actually pull yourself out of it.

After changing your product in the bathroom, you stumble out into the living room only to find you weren’t so alone after all.

On the counter sits a little flower pot, and Xavier fusses around it, trimming bits of yellowing leaves and gently drizzling a glass of water over it.

“Xavier?”

The water sloshes a bit at your sleepy voice, and he sets the glass down, turning to you with a smile.

“Hey,” he calls, reaching his hand out to you. “Morning.”

“Morning.” You take his hand, letting him tug you closer, returning his quick kiss of greeting. “What’s this?”

“Oh.” He turns back towards the flower, scratching the back of his head. His hair was still a bit messy with sleep, even if he must have gone out to see Jeremiah for this flower, because you don’t recognize it from his apartment’s collection. “It’s a surprise. So, uh…surprise?”

You smile up at him, curiously stroking at the plant’s leaves. “What kind is it?”

“You.”

You blink at him, tilting your head.

“Well, it looks like you. The flower you were on the planet.”

Oh, you think, turning back toward the flower, now seeing its little closed bud. The exhibition.

“I showed Jeremiah the picture book a little while ago, to try and get an accurate version.” Xavier places his hands on your hips, resting his chin on your shoulder. “It hasn’t bloomed yet, but I wanted to cheer you up.”

His grip on you tightens, and his hands slide forward to hug you fully from behind.

“I don’t like it when you’re sick,” he whispers, and your heart aches. But he's gotten better at openly expressing his emotions to you, and you're so proud of that.

“It’s just—”

“I know,” he murmurs, hiding his face into your neck. “Still, I hate seeing you like that. I hate seeing you in pain. It…”

He falls quiet for a moment, and your hands find his, holding them as tightly as he holds you.

“It scares me,” he whispers, breath shaking.

You turn in his arms, palms cupping his cheeks. Xavier tries to look away, and you gently nudge his face back to you, waiting patiently until he looks into your eyes.

“I just want you to get everything you need to bloom, and be healthy.” His eyes flicker away briefly, then back again. There’s something shy in his gaze, and you get to witness it shifting into a confident determination. “I want to give you everything you need.”

Your eyes begin to water, and you try to blink the emotion away. You remember that planet that never existed, how he had given you his own light to bloom under. How he asked you to come with him when you called for him with all your soul, how his own soul answered.

“Well.” You clear your throat, trying to get rid of the tear-choked knot in there. “Good.”

Your fingers trace his face, and you stare at him with so much adoration until he begins to faintly glow. You keep staring, until his light burns into your retinas. Until you can see him in the dark. Until he's all that you can see.

“It’s good, then,” you say again, smiling at him, and feeling like a flower that's finally blossomed when he smiles back. “That you’re everything I need.”

#xavier x reader #xavier x you #xavier x mc #lads xavier x reader #lads xavier x you #lads xavier #xavier lads #lads x reader #love and deepspace xavier #xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace #lads fanfic #lnds x reader

156 notes · View notes

notarmedandnotdangerous · 1 day ago

Text

+18 mdni! watch your mouth; a fic where bucky's your boss, and you're his secretary. he ends up getting himself into a lot of trouble with you.

cw: dom!->sub!reader, sub!bucky, slight somnophilia, use of 'sir', cockdrunk bucky, overstimulation (like 6 times), subspace, shooting blanks, slightly masochistic reader, reader has a pain kink (?), reader passes out

word count: >3k

taglist: @thigh-o-saur (dm or send ask for tags!)

a/n: running out of ideas for the next parts yikes (drop suggestions i am in dire need)

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

it was the morning of what was supposed to be day 5.

bucky didn’t mean to disobey you, he really didn’t.

when he first woke up with you still asleep beside him, your cock was thick, and twitching faintly under your boxers. it felt like a gift, a reward. he had done well the night before, hadn’t he?

so when he leaned down, peeled your boxers off just enough for your cock to spring out, it felt right. he pressed a kiss to the head of your cock, shivering at the taste of you. it started slow, he mouthed at the tip, letting his tongue flick over the tip gently, willing you to start drip with pre-cum.

when your eyes fluttered open, there was a soft weight of a warm mouth wrapped around your cock. you barely had time to register the sensation before a slow, wet tongue traced the underside of your cock. you involuntarily let out a moan, you had always been sensitive when you were half-asleep, or tired.

“buck..” you blinked sleepily, trying to lift your head.

when you let out that first gasp, signalling that you were awake, bucky was gone. he didn’t answer, he didn’t even pause. he hollowed his cheeks, sucked harder, and moaned like a slut around your cock like it got him off just to feel your cock twitch in his mouth. his hands were gripping onto your thighs, steady, and holding you in place as he took you down his throat. he wasn’t allowed to touch you like this, especially without permission. but his mouth was so soft, so careful, so wet, and warm.

“you- fuck, you’re going to get punished, you know that?”

all he did was hum against you, he wasn’t opposed to it. it was obvious that he couldn’t stop now. he pulled away just enough to take a breath, before sinking his mouth back down on your cock.

your fingers intertwined with his hair, and pulled him back enough just to look up at you, and speak.

“please, sir. you can punish me later.. just let me make you finish.. you deserve it.”

the sweetness in his tone was so desperate, and so real. you should’ve said no, should’ve reminded him about the rules, but with the way he looked up at you, how could you say no? you gave him a slight nod, allowing him to keep going.

bucky’s mouth returned instantly, much more determined now.

“buck..” his tongue dragged along the underside of your cock, and you forced yourself to hold back from whining. “s-slow down..”

but he didn’t hear you, or maybe he did, and he just chose to not obey. it wasn’t because he didn’t want to be good, but because his mind was fogged, full of the way you tasted, and the raw need to satisfy you.

you were pliant underneath him, legs trembling faintly, cock twitching in his mouth, and that just made him more determined than ever.all he wanted was to hear your raw moans, you didn’t seem like the vocal type, and boy were you about to surprise him.

“fuck, you’re going to-”

he hummed at just the right moment, sending vibrations running through your cock. his tongue teased, and stroked that spot under your tip, again, and again. it was getting to be too much.

“oh, god- fuck!.. mmph..” you had tried to pull back, warn him, but you came down his throat with a sharp gasp, hips twitching. it was unsteady, sudden, and intense, considering you were extra sensitive in the mornings. your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to process the overwhelming pleasure.

he swallowed your cum, moaning softly, and letting you jerk your hips into his mouth as he let you ride out your orgasm.

when you opened your eyes again, he was still in between your legs. he didn’t stop, didn’t flinch. if anything, he leaned in closer, trying to take more of you in his mouth. he looked up at you with blown-out pupils.

you were still catching your breath, when he continued his ministrations on you. his tongue teased under the head now, and your hips twitch uncontrollably. he pressed your hips down with his hands, keeping you in place,

“buck- bucky, you can’t.. g-give me a second.. ”

bucky doesn’t hear you, he’s focused. his eyes flutter shut as he flattens his tongue against your cock.

“b-buck.. you need to stop- fuck, too much..” your voice cracked as you will yourself to not moan.

bucky didn’t register it, not really, not through the thick fog in his mind. he moved slower now, less about coaxing, and more about consuming. you tried to lift yourself up, to look down, and meet his eyes, maybe even ask him to stop, but all you saw was his face slack with focus, completely, and blissfully lost. there was absolutely nothing calculated in his head now, he was moving based on pure instinct.

your second orgasm built out of nowhere, forced by his merciless mouth. you whimpered as it wrecked you. it’s messier, frantic. your voice sounded unrecognizable to you, louder, hoarser, as breathless cries tumble from your mouth without permission.

“e-enough, buck.. please..”

bucky didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down. he held you down, drank every last bit of your cum, and sucked you through every twitch, every spasm, not stopping even as you gasped for breath. he was lost in the pleasure of giving, of making you pant, and moan for him. he didn’t care how much he had to make you cum to achieve his goal. two times? three? maybe five?

he let your cock slip from his mouth for a second just to breathe, before dragging his tongue from the base to the tip of your cock once more, all while you, wrecked, and panting, could only sit there and take it.

you didn’t think you could cum again, not so soon, not after two orgasms back to back.

bucky, however, wasn’t stopping. he didn’t even seem aware of what he was doing to you anymore. at this point, it wasn’t skill anymore, it was worship, in its most desperate form.

“b-buck, bucky.. you’re going to.. mm.. break me..”

the sound of your voice barely registered in bucky’s brain. he was locked in that blissed-out haze, his eyes unfocused as his lashes fluttered. he pushed your cock down his throat, just enough for you to feel the tight pulse of it around you. his tongue worked faster now, it was sloppier, but more intense.

“p-please.. i c.. fuck..” you tried your best to hold back, you really did. you had tried everything that you could think of, gripping the sheets, pressing the back of your head into your pillow, tried to breathe as deeply as you could. all your efforts were useless as his mouth was relentless. he sucked with single-minded obsession, tongue flicking at all your sweet spots just right, and it drove you fucking insane.

the overstimulation hit fast. you weren’t used to being wrung out like this, one orgasm after another. you tried to shift, tried to escape, but now his arms have slipped around your thighs, holding you steadily against him. your thighs tremble uncontrollably, either trying to clamp shut or spread wider, because your body doesn’t know if it wants to escape or take more.

it built faster than you expected, a tight coil in your gut. you were oversensitive, overstimulated, yet your cock throbbed.

“fuck, buck- bucky, i..” it was too late. the third orgasm sent vibrations going through your body like lightning, sharp, blinding, and overwhelming. you bucked into his mouth with a gasp you couldn’t contain, and he held you there, the tip of your cock bruising his throat. he swallowed around you.

it hurt, but also felt like heaven.

you were wrecked, mind blank as your cock twitched helplessly in bucky’s throat. he didn’t even pull off of you, just let your cock slowly soften slightly against his tongue.

“t-that’s enough..” you sighed, thinking that you were finally free from this. oh you were so wrong.

he started to mouth at your cock again at your cock with soft, reverent kisses.

your fingers trembled as they tried to reach for his hair, in hopes to push him back. but they barely had any strength, you weren’t in control anymore. you were shaky, and disoriented, it felt as if your limbs were loose. you could barely think anymore. your cock, unbelievably, was still hard, wet from the constant attention, red, and swollen from the relentless use of his mouth.

bucky hadn’t stopped, not even once. he licked, and sucked like it was instinct, like the taste and noises coming from you were the only thing anchoring him to the world.

“buck- bucky.. baby, please.” you reached down again, hand in his hair once more, not to guide, but to try, and pull him off of your overstimulated being. “you have to.. fuck- please, i can’t.. c-can’t..”

as usual, he didn’t hear you. the haze had taken him completely. he was drunk on your cock, lost in the rhythm he had fallen into: swallow, suck, swirl, breathe.

you let out a squeak when he slid you deeper into his throat, it didn’t even sound like you anymore.

“n-no, bucky.. fuck, stop. i mean it! please.. b-buck..” your fingers curled in his hair, tugging with whatever remaining strength you had left. your hips tried to shy away, but he followed your every move. your whole body was trying to retreat from the pleasure, but he was chasing it, chasing you.

his tongue was insistent, he didn’t realise you were at your limit, like your body was something to love until there was nothing left.

it was the fourth that finally broke you. your mouth fell open in a silent cry, eyes squeezed completely shut, legs numb, and trembling on either side of his head, hands gripping onto the sheets like a lifeline. your body slackened all at once. but he was still licking, still sucking softly, and humming around the fading pulse of your cock.

“buck, please..” you tried to reach for him, but he didn’t hear you.

bucky was drunk on it, on your taste, on the sounds that you made, on your cock. he was obsessed with the broken sounds that he could pull out again, and again with his mouth alone. he was so eager to please, but this was him going overboard, he was getting greedy.

your breaths came shallow, and fast. your cock pulsed again. then, with no warning, he swallowed around your cock, tongue pressing hard, and flat, and you came. it wasn’t sharp like before, it was deep.

you felt the world slip. your chest rose, and fell softly. it felt like your arms were too heavy to lift. your voice caught, you were too fucked out to command, to resist. the ache was gone now, swapped out with a humming warmth all throughout your body.

he hadn't even realised you were crying, not until he pulled away, and looked up. and only then does he notice.

your eyes were barely open, pupils blown wide, glassy, and unfocused. your body which was usually tight with control, is now slack.

“sir..?” he whispered, blinking slowly at you. “are you-?”

you were gone, not unconscious, but slipping into subspace. you didn’t answer him.

bucky’s stomach flips, as he finally snapped out of his trance.

“mmh..” you let out a soft noise, which almost sounded like a purr.

“i’m sorry, didn’t mean to- it just- god, you tasted so good, i-i couldn’t help it.. didn’t know you were at your limit.”

you didn’t respond, just gave him a drunken, blissed out smile.

he watched you, examining your body.

you don’t speak for a long time. your breathing evens out first, then the twitch in your fingers fade. the stillness in you was back, but this time different, you were exhausted, fucked out of your mind.

bucky was curled around you now, his hands gentle as he didn’t want to trigger your oversensitivity. he’s been whispering apologies into your ear.

eventually, you stir. there was a low hum in your chest. you blinked slowly, then again. your pupils were still blown, but they’re focused now, trying to remember where he is.

“mmph.. god, what the hell did you do to me..” you spoke, voice hoarse, and slurred from how vocal you were earlier. “d-didn’t.. stop.”

he freezes at the thought of you being conscious enough to punish him.

“i.. i made you cum a lot, too much. i didn’t mean to go that far. you weren’t answering, a-and i thought you were okay- i should’ve noticed- you didn’t stay stop.. i didn’t wanna stop, got lost..”

you cut him off with a quiet, weak huff.

“you’re not.. mad?”

you smiled at him, dazed, crooked, but sweet.

“you trying to ruin me, buck?”

bucky swallows, heat rushing to his face.

“no! i mean- not like that. i just- you were.. you tasted so good, couldn’t help myself.. i was greedy.”

“shh, it’s okay. just.. stay close.. need to feel you..”

he just held you against his chest, heart thudding.

you trembled in his arms, but not from fear. your sobs had quieted, softened into whimpery little exhales that fluttered against his skin. your body sagged in his hold, loose and pliant, boneless from how thoroughly undone you were.

but your hips still moved, just barely. it was a slow, needy grind like your body hadn’t realized it could stop, like it didn’t want to. the tears had dried on your flushed cheeks, but your eyes were still wide and dreamy, glazed with the kind of dazed bliss he had never seen before.

you were floating.

and bucky had put you there.

“still with me?” he whispered.

you made a soft, open-mouthed sound in response. it was something like a moan, something like a yes.

bucky smiled faintly, his heart aching with tenderness. he shifted, just a little, and you shivered when their skin met again.

your cock was flushed dark and spent, but he could feel the twitch of interest there, the stubborn flicker of arousal even after everything.

“god, you’re still hard?” he murmured, half in awe.

“b-buck..” you didn’t blink. your gaze was unfocused.

he leaned in instantly.

“i’m here,” he said softly, brushing sweat-soaked hair from your forehead. “i've got you, you’re okay.”

you blinked up at him, eyes shining, they weren’t just wet, but pleading. a desperate little whimper escaped you.

he thought you were in discomfort, and tried to soothe you.

but you whimpered again. then again, and again, as if something in you refused to be soothed. one of your hands reached down, clumsily, before you dragged your fingers over your own spent cock. it wasn’t to stop the pain, not to soothe it, but to feel it.

bucky froze. “no, no, it’s too much.” he reached for your hand, gently pulling it away. “you’ve already-”

then you sobbed. a full-body, keening cry.

“just… one more,” he whispered. “please.. o-one...”

his breath caught. your thighs were trembling uncontrollably, the tip of your cock flushed an angry red, dripping with more pre-cum. he could still feel the way you twitched with the last orgasm, how your whole body had gone taut. you looked drunk on it. not delirious, not gone, but hungry, masochistic, even.

“what?” his voice cracked with disbelief. “baby, you just came five times. you can’t even see straight.”

you only shook your head, weakly, lips trembling like you couldn’t believe he didn’t understand.

“i don’t care,” you breathed, voice breaking. “it hurts, but it feels so.. good. just.. just one more. I can take it.”

the way you spoke sent a deep, confused ache twisting through his chest.

he swallowed thickly.

he shouldn’t. he shouldn’t.

but you were sobbing, his beautiful, perfect secretary now so ruined you could barely speak, clinging to him with tear-streaked cheeks and shaking legs, as you pleaded with the sweetest desperation. and bucky? he couldn’t bear it. he couldn’t watch you cry and not give you what you needed.

his heart broke and swelled at the same time. he couldn’t say no. how could he? not when you were crying, twitching, helplessly whispering 'please' again, and again like it was the only word you remembered how to say.

his hands hovered over your body, uncertain. he should say no, he knows that you weren’t made for overstimulation, let alone ask for more. you were so far gone, drunk on sensation, hardly yourself.

but then you moaned, soft and keening, hips weakly, and barely rolling up into the air, chasing a touch that wasn’t there. you had resorted to begging with your body now.

"please," you whispered. "please, please-"

it shattered bucky’s resistance.

he slid his tongue down again, barely touching, just enough to feel you shudder and sob. the broken sound that spilled from your lips fueled his ego.

“f-fuck, mmh..” you gasped like the heat of his mouth alone was too much, but didn’t move away. your hands clenched the cushions as his mouth returned, tongue and lips teasing your overstimulated skin.

“yes,” you whimpered, your voice was high-pitched and desperate. “yes, please- i wanna feel it.. make me- fuck, sob on your tongue. want to feel every nerve fry- want it raw, please..” you were rambling now, begging for pain like it was paradise. you sobbed again, the pain laced with pleasure had your body arching despite the twitching, despite how sore you were.

bucky kissed the base of your cock, which was soft, swollen, and aching. even when you moaned from the sting, even when your whole body bucked from the contact, even as you fucking sobbed, he still pushed your cock into his mouth. he sucked gently, taking you in slow, and you broke.

“god, b-buck.. bucky..” your hips were twitching, lips parted on a soundless cry as your head fell back, overwhelmed all over again. you tried to rock, to fuck his mouth in desperate, shallow jerks, while tears streamed down the sides of your face. you were lost in it, totally undone, trembling apart and still trying to feel more.

he swallowed around you, coaxing the pleasure from you like he could give you exactly what you wanted, no matter how close you were to breaking.

“oh my- fuck..” you choked, eyes squeezed shut, wet lashes sticking together. “h-hurts so good.. i love it- buck, i love it, please don’t stop.. just fuck me through it, make it worse- i want it to fucking burn..” you were delirious, lost, while your cock was soft, twitching helplessly, too spent to do anything but leak and ache.

and bucky tried to hold you still, even as you writhed beneath him. he looked absolutely stricken, pulling away just to speak.

“fuck. you’re so gone, look at you.”

you couldn’t look, couldn’t see anything but the bright edges of sensation, couldn’t feel anything but the way he kept giving you exactly what you needed.

“don’t stop- please, please hurt me more- fuck, b-bucky.. it hurts.. don’t you dare fucking stop” even as you sobbed, even as you whimpered and tried to escape, deep down, you didn’t want him to stop.

and bucky didn’t. he couldn’t. he felt the need to give you exactly what you want, to please you.

you were trying to push back into it even as your hips jerked away, body fighting itself in real time. every suck lit your nerves on fire. you were completely undone, but you loved it. you needed it. you were crying like it was torture and grinning through the tears like it was heaven.

“thank you-” you gasped, voice wrecked and face sticky with tears. “thank you, thank you- fuck-” and then the pain hit. you came for the seventh time, with a soft, shattered whine, twitching hard under his hands. you were limp one second, convulsing the next. you shook like a live wire, spasming through it. white-hot. brutal. perfect. it was too much, it was everything. you wailed, fingers clawing at the sheets, body instinctively trying to twist away, bucking, trembling under the weight of it. but you didn’t want to get away, not really.

when you looked down, there was nothing, no cum, just that gut-deep clenching, the flutter of muscles trying to give something that wasn’t there anymore.

“no- no, no..” you choked out, tears spilling harder now. “it’s gone. i-i can’t.. please- please-” you sobbed, not even sure what you were asking for anymore. “more- no, fuck, it hurts. keep going, please..”

bucky held onto you gently as you trembled, the sobs breaking through your chest in soft, shaking gasps.

“it doesn’t feel the same,” you whispered, almost ashamed. “it hurts now. i c-can’t-my body’s too full, but there’s.. mmh, nothing left, it’s not fair…”

he smoothed a hand through your slightly damp hair, pulling you in close as your whole frame shook with overstimulation and the desperate ache of a dry orgasm that didn’t soothe, only teased.

“i know,” he murmured against your temple. “you gave me everything. you did so good, don’t have to take any more.” he kissed your thighs, your hips, your stomach, all while whispering praise in your ear.

you were crying, yes. but you were also blissed-out, and safe.

your breath came in shallow bursts, chest rising and falling even though he hadn’t touched you in minutes. your thighs trembled, splayed open, while your skin flushed a deep pink, a sheen of sweat glistening over your shoulders, and the bridge of your nose. your cock was soft now, finally. just the bare twitch of it against your belly made you shudder, overstimulated to the edge of pain.

still, you tried to move, tried to buck your hips into nothing.

bucky caught you immediately.

your fingers curled into his forearm. “i’m not done,” you slurred, eyes glassy but stubborn. “i can.. can give.. you more..”

“you can’t.”

“i want to,” you snapped, voice hoarse. “i can take it-”

“no.”

you blinked hard, like you were trying to force your eyes to focus.

“just.. just a little more- let me show you.. i swear i can-”

“you’re shaking,” he said, drawing his thumb gently across your jaw. “you’re slurring your words. you’re not even all here right now.”

“i am-” your protest cracked halfway through. your fingers twitched like you were trying to gesture something. maybe to pull his hands, and mouth back to your cock, and then you stilled again.

“if you try to argue again, i’m going to lay you down and hold you still until your brain catches up to your body. do you understand?” bucky pulled you up, letting you lay with your back against his chest.

you were trying to form another word. something needy, maybe even defiant, but your brain can’t keep up. your limbs go slack, trembling. your chest rises like you’re about to sob, or scream, or beg, and then you just slumped into his chest.

your eyes roll halfway back. your head droops backwards onto bucky's shoulder. there was no warning, no dramatics. you were just out. your body isn’t limp like sleep, it’s spent. the kind of collapse where bucky immediately realizes: ‘he’s gone'.

“god damn stubborn." he murmured in an annoyed, but affectionate tone. and in that moment, he knew that he had to be the one to say no, because you wouldn’t stop yourself. he kissed your temple and held you closer, lowering the both of you into the bed.

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

part 7

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x male reader #x male reader #bucky barnes smut #james buchanan barnes #bottom bucky barnes #sub bucky barnes #bottom male reader #sub male reader #top male reader #dom male reader

147 notes · View notes

freakmcnastyy · 1 day ago

Text

Baby, come home

Geum Seongjae x f!reader (Angst)

Summary: The reader has no idea about Seongjae’s secret life—until one day.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood, mentions of murder.

Note: Requestedd!

⸻

Seongjae was always a mystery.

You could never really know what was going on inside him.

He’d smile, but his eyes wouldn’t.

He’d say he loved you, but his voice never warmed with it.

Still—every word that rolled off his lips somehow pulled you deeper.

Being with him felt like walking into a pitch-black tunnel at 3 a.m.

dangerous, disorienting, and weirdly addictive.

Sometimes he’d vanish without a word. One day, two, maybe more.

Your texts? Left on read. Your calls? Straight to voicemail.

And then he’d show up like nothing happened—

like he’d just stepped out for a smoke five minutes ago.

That same smug smirk on his lips. Those eyes colder than steel.

Even when he said “Did you miss me, baby?” it sounded like a game.

You’d be angry, want answers, demand something real—

but then he’d hold your face in his hands,

look straight into your eyes just once,

and kiss you like he hadn’t breathed without you.

And just like that, your fury? Gone. Your fears? Erased.

His mystery wasn’t killing you.

It was numbing you, little by little, every day.

Seongjae was a riddle—

the more you tried to solve him, the more he slipped away.

⸻

It was 3:20 a.m. when the door clicked open.

Everything was quiet.

The street, the house, even your thoughts.

You were already awake—

too wired, too uneasy, too restless.

Maybe from the sleepless nights, maybe from that awful gut feeling.

You didn’t know how many secrets that door had let in by now.

And then… he stepped inside.

His jacket was on but unzipped—

and his white shirt?

Soaked.

Chest, sleeves, even up to his neck—deep red.

Blood.

You squinted, tried to breathe, but your throat felt like it was closing.

“Seongjae…”

Your voice sounded like it belonged to someone else.

He didn’t even look at you.

Shrugged off his jacket, dropped it on the floor.

Shoes off in one move.

Straight to the sink.

You stood there, frozen.

“What… what is this?” you finally whispered.

“Whose blood is that?”

He just shrugged.

Didn’t turn around.

Started scrubbing his hands under the tap.

Red turned pink, turned clear…

but nothing about it felt clean.

All that was left was silence.

Then:

“It doesn’t matter.”

That’s all he gave you.

It doesn’t matter.

No explanation. No apology. No story.

No fear, no guilt, just… blank.

And somehow, you weren’t even surprised.

Because this wasn’t the first time.

“What did you do?” you asked again, louder this time.

You didn’t sound like a scared girl—

you sounded like someone who’d had enough.

And he… laughed.

Quiet. Mocking.

“I told you this world isn’t for you,” he said, finally looking at you.

“If you love me… you stop asking questions.”

Something shattered in you right then.

Stop asking.

Was that what love was?

Going blind?

Going quiet?

Seeing blood and still choosing to stay?

And yet your heart…

it still beat for him.

Still lost everything when he looked at you.

He took a step closer.

His hand—still slightly stained—reached for your face.

Thumb brushing your cheek.

He whispered:

“You’re shaking.”

“Because I’m scared,” you said.

“Of me?”

A pause. Then:

“No. Of myself. Because I’m not leaving.”

⸻

You've felt something for weeks.

Something was off.

He was lying.

Not cheating—you knew he’d never cheat.

But something else.

Another life.

Something darker.

And loving someone didn’t mean silencing yourself over it.

One day, you casually asked around.

Not directly—just dancing around the subject.

No one had answers.

Just one word came up: Union.

No one explained it.

Or maybe no one wanted to.

That made it worse.

So one night, when he left saying he’d be back late,

you followed him.

He had his jacket on again.

Hands in his pockets.

Head low.

And from a distance, he looked like a stranger.

He stopped near a dark alley.

Three other men joined.

You couldn’t hear, but his tone was sharp. Angry.

Then—

he threw the first punch.

No hesitation.

No mercy.

It wasn’t a fight. It was a punishment.

He was on top of a guy, slamming fists like he was erasing a sin.

Blood everywhere.

His eyes? Empty.

Then—

you stepped wrong.

A tiny sound.

He turned.

“Y/N?”

Everything froze.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

His voice wasn’t angry.

It was broken.

You were crying. Without even realizing.

“You need to leave.”

“No! You owe me an explanation, Seongjae!”

He marched up in three steps, grabbed your arm. “I said—leave!”

“Who are you!?” you screamed.

“Do you expect me to just stay quiet? To not ask? To clean up your mess like some ride-or-die doll? What the hell are you hiding!?”

He paused.

His eyes locked on yours.

Then:

“Get in the car.”

You didn’t fight.

He didn’t let go.

Silence all the way.

He never looked at you.

Just clenched his jaw and drove.

⸻

The second you walked into the apartment,

the door slammed shut behind you.

He didn’t even take off his jacket.

He was breathing hard. Eyes blazing.

“What the fuck were you doing there?”

His voice cut through the room.

“Were you following me? Are you insane?”

“You don’t tell me anything! What the fuck else was I supposed to do?”

Your eyes stung, but you held your ground.

“While I wait up every night not knowing if you’re coming back covered in someone else’s—”

“Shut up.”

“No! I won’t shut up, Seongjae! I’m your girlfriend, but I don’t even know who the fuck you are anymore!”

He laughed.

That dry, cruel kind of laugh.

“You don’t know me? Then why the fuck are you still here?

What did you think I was, huh? Prince charming?”

He stepped in, close.

“Didn’t I tell you? Stay out of my shit.

You didn’t listen.

You followed me.

And now what—playing the victim?”

“You’re sick!” you shouted.

His eyes narrowed.

He took another step.

“If you ever talk to me like that again…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

Just got close.

You were shaking.

But you didn’t flinch.

And then—he grabbed your hair.

“Who the fuck do you think you are to judge me?”

He hissed it against your face.

It hurt.

But you didn’t make a sound.

You stared into his eyes.

Yours were wet.

His were… burning.

But there was something behind the rage.

Something broken.

Like a kid hiding a wound with hate.

Seongjae looked at your face for a second.

Something shifted in that cold, hardened gaze.

His jaw clenched.

He exhaled sharply through his nose.

And then—he stepped even closer.

His lips came just near your cheek.

His breath brushed your neck.

His voice came out low, foggy, laced with threat.

“You know what?” he whispered. “I want to kill you.”

“But I won’t.”

He tilted his head slightly.

His eyes still locked on yours.

“I’m not that kind of person… at least not with you,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “But you… you turn me into this.”

You let out a bitter laugh mixed with disbelief.

“You were already like this, Seongjae. I just chose not to see it.”

He smiled, but it was cold. “Pray that I love you too much to handle your absence,” he said.

And then—he let go of you.

Pulled away slowly.

Looked at you like a stranger.

Empty. Dark. Distant.

Just walked to the door.

Right as he reached the threshold, he stopped.

“You better start hating me,” he said.

And then he left.

The door didn’t slam.

It closed softly.

But the echo of it shattered everything inside you.

You sank to the floor.

And it wasn’t just your scalp that ached, your heart was bleeding too.

#weak hero kdrama #weak hero x reader #weak hero class 1 #geum seong je #geum seong je x reader #lee jun young #geum seongje scenario #weak hero class 2 #weak hero class 2 x reader #geum seongjae scenarios #geum seongje #geum seongjae #whc2 x reader #whc2 spoilers #wolf keum #whc2

104 notes · View notes

mrsmnsn · 3 days ago

Text

you are everywhere… e.m

summary: for his birthday you wanted to give something nice to Eddie, but he doesn’t want you to. So you come up with something clever and meaningful.

w: eddie|fem!reader; very fluffy; no use of y/n.

It was Eddie’s birthday, and you hadn’t had a clue of what to give him. Of course he was always talking about his dream guitars and cool instruments or new record and tickets for concerts, but even if you tried to save money you wouldn’t get enough from your shitty (temporary) job. He would give you a lecture if you spent that much money on him anyway.

At first, you try to ask him. Very nonchalant about it. But it doesn’t really work.

“Hey Eds, if you could have anything right now, in the palm of your hand, what would it be?” You ask while he’s busy writing something down on his bed

He looks up to you. “Like anything? Definitely a glass of water, i’m thirsty!”

You look at him with an annoyed and trying not to laugh face. “Eddie no! I mean like… something you don’t have. Is there something different?”

“Hm… Good question.” He puts his notebook down and looks at you with an expression you can’t quite read. “I would love to have you in the palm of my hand, if you know what i mean…” He gets close to you and put your hair behind your ear.

You almost fall into that, almost lean into his lips. “Eddie, come on!”

“I’m dead serious.” He smiles, grabs your chin to give you a peck on the lips. “If that’s a way of trying to buy me a gift, you’re not gonna get it. I don’t want anything else. Only you.”

You just huff and get up. “You’re annoying.” You say not realizing how romantic he was.

“What? Sweetheart why are you mad?” He says and smiles at you. His damn smile that he knows you can’t handle.

You just walk away, preventing yourself from his charm

In the second try, you go straight to the point.

“Eddie, please collaborate with me! I want to give you a nice gift. I don’t want to be the lame girlfriend that gives you a lousy gift!” You grab his hands and look at him in the eyes. “Please. I just want to do something nice for you.”

“Oh I know my love, but i’ve told you, I don’t want you to spend your money on a present! I don’t really care for my birthday and if anything, you already give me the perfect present everyday by being my girlfriend by choice. Thats shocking, believe it or not!” He change the parts, take your hands and put them on his heart. “You are what i asked for… someone to love and someone that loves me the same.”

You give in. You cry and hug him, very sorry for pushing him into choosing a gift. So, in the week of his birthday you come up with an idea. The perfect idea. And (with a little help of Robin) you finished one day before.

You knock on the door and wait for him to answer. He really meant when he said he didn’t cared for his birthday. He insisted on staying home, no surprise party, no going out for drinks, nothing like that. He wanted the same nights he used to have with you. A cosy night in the trailer, with some crappy food and movie, with you by his side.

“I’m coming sweetheart!” You heard him shouting and running to the door. When he opens, he sees you with both hands behind your back. He looks at you very suspicious “Okay, what did i tell you about-“

“Wait wait wait, before you say anything…” you interrupt him and say. “I did something very nice to you and i think you will like it very much, so please just… just let me try.” He looks surprised and just nods, waiting for you to start.

“Ok, well i know you didn’t want me to buy anything for you so i came up with something… let’s say handmade. The first thing i want to give you is this.” You bring your left hand and show it to him. “This is a mixtape i made. I mean, me and Robin because I wasn’t sure how to do it so she helped me. It’s a mix with songs that reminds me of you every time i listen to.”

He takes the tape from your hand and reads it “For my sweetie honey baby i love you” and lots of hearts on i love you. He smiles, his eyes crinkles, and you let out a sigh of relief seeing his reaction.

“We can listen later before bed. It’s very relaxing and comforting songs.”

“Oh… so we can totally make out with it?”

“Eddie! I- You- I didn’t -“ He giggles seeing you blush and stumble with words.

“I’m just teasing you. Go on, what else is there behind your back, hm?”

“Well, I wanted to give you something else along with the tape, so i came out with an idea, also handmade, and it’s actually made just for you. I came up with something you like and turned into very romantic, at least i think.” You brought your right hand up this time and Eddie was not expecting this!

It was a bouquet of flowers, but not regular flowers. You made him a bouquet made of guitar picks. It was as if the picks were the petals forming the flowers. Eddie was speechless. Trying to figure it out how did you came up with that idea, how did you make it and what to say.

“I actually had to buy them cause i only had that one you gave it to me. But i bought them and, with a candle, i managed to mold them and glue them together.” You tried to explain to him your process. “But with this I wanted it to give you a message. That you completely changed my world, even the flowers are not the same. You are everywhere, in every song lyric, in every book i read, in my dreams, you are everything to me.”

You had tears in your eyes as he took the ‘flowers’ from your hands. “Sweetheart, i don’t know what to say. They’re so metal! Thats so… Oh that’s the nicest thing someone ever did to me!” He hugged you as tight as possible. “I’m sorry i don’t think i could say something as beautiful as you did but I love you very much. Thank you for doing that! That’s exactly what i wanted!”

“You don’t have to thank me Eds. I did it because i love you. I’m glad you like it!” You kiss his shoulder and rub his back. “Why don’t we go inside and start that movie. I’ll set everything up and you go get the pizza”

And that’s what you do. By the time the pizza arrives ypu and Eddie are very cosy on the couch ready for the movie marathon he set up.

“What else do you have on your back my lady. Any more magic presents will show?” He says taking a bite of his pizza.

“Unfortunately no. But I do have a third idea. I was thinking about a relaxing massage, maybe on your back but we have to-“

“Yes! You can start now!” He interrupts you and turns his back to you, still eating.

“As i was saying… I think it’s better if we do that on your bedroom, if you’re lying down is easier.”

“You nasty , trying to get me to bed already , calm down.” He adjusted himself again, cozied up onto you, and continued watching the movie. “But i totally want that massage, i’ll wait for it!”

You just caress his hair and smile. His free hand returning your love, caressing your leg.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader

108 notes · View notes

wlwsoccerfics · 1 day ago

Text

Baby News(CaitlinFoordXReader)

Summary: you and Caitlin announce your pregnancy at national Camp.

It was lunch time in the First day of Camp and you had placed a Gift Box with a T-Shirt for everyone that said 'auntie of Baby foord' and for Harley and Harper there were Shirts that said 'cousin of Baby foord' .

You were really excited for them to find out. Holding hands with your wife. Caitlin kissed your cheek softly.

"you look so Happy. It's adorable." Your wife whispered in your ear.

"i am happy. Very Happy actually!" You told her. "What about you?" You asked Caitlin.

"i am so very happy as well. Can't wait for all of them to find out!" Caitlin whispered out. Gently kissing your lips. You kissed back.

It wasn't too long until the Team all sat down. Looking at the boxes.

"you guys can Open the boxes now!" Caitlin stated.

"we thought since we are right before a world cup that we all could use a little Gift." You explained.

"aww that's nice!" You hear Macca say.

"thanks you two, that's very sweet!" Charli said.

"that's so cute." Steph replied.

"yes thank you!" Mini stating. Smiling at you.

They all opened the Box after counting down to three. Cheers interrupted the silence after that. They all were so happy and excited. Walking over to you to hug you.

"congrats. We are so Happy for the two of you!" Mini stated and hugged the two of you. Emily went over and sobbed out.

"don't cry sis or i will!" You let your sister know. Emily was Just three years older then you.

"sorry." She answered and the two of you started crying together. "i can't believe the two of us gonna become moms an few months from one another! Our Kids gonna be besties and Cousins." Your older sister told you. She also pulled Caitlin into the hug. "I am over the Moon for both of you." Emily stated. The three of you eventually ended the hug.

"i am so Happy for you Guys! I know you will be amazing moms!" Charli told the two of you.

"thank you Charli!" Your wife said and the two hugged. While you and Kyra hugged.

"i am excited to become an auntie to this little one. An Ausenal Baby. That's so Special!" Kyra let you know.

"thanks ky, i am looking forward to seeing all of you being aunties to Baby Foord." You answered. Smiling at her. Then Kyra and Charli switched places and you ended Up hugging Charli, while Kyra was hugging Caitlin now. Your best friend Ellie walked over. Her Shirt was actually saying 'godmother of Baby foord' . She hugged you tightly.

"you really want me to be the godmother?" She asked in tears. You nodded your head, smiling through your own tears.

"yes of course, elliebelle!" You stated. She was smiling as well.

"thanks Cait, thanks y/n! Means the world to me!" Your best friend said. Hugging Caitlin as well. Harley and Harper both ran over and hugged your legs.

"auntie y/n, there is a Baby in your Belly?" Harley wanted to know.

"yes i do." You answered and smiled at her.

"we get a new Cousin." Harper happily announced, which made everyone laugh.

"that's right!" Caitlin told them. Smiling from ear to ear. She then leaned over to peck your lips softly. You happily returned the action.

The Rest of Lunch was full of them asking questions about Baby names you had in mind, about any ideas for the nursery and other Baby related stuff. Which you happily did. You also talked about how these two Games during national break would be your last two Games for a while. Cause you didn't want to risk anything happening Go the Baby. So you wouldn't Play a full game. But the Last 15 minutes of the Games.

#woso x reader #woso fic #arsenal women x reader #matildas x reader #Caitlin Foord x reader #emily van egmond x reader #charli grant x reader #kyra cooney crossxreader #steph catley x reader

69 notes · View notes

bloodb3nders · 3 days ago

Text

part two.

| shota aizawa (eraserhead) x fem!reader |

wc: 3.4k

warnings: same as masterlist, use of yn, injuries

a/n: i lowkey put some heart and soul into this

NOW PLAYING: i can do it with a broken heart t. swift

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶

the following weeks after your first interaction with shota were pretty insignificant. turns out you were pretty good at this whole ‘teaching thing.’ your students had enormous potential to be pro heroes, and you made sure to take note of a few to possibly recruit for your own agency once they graduated. you were sad this was only for the one school year, because you were growing to love your old school again, and being able to see the faces of young kids sitting where you once were made your heart inexplicably full.

despite this triumph, there was still a dark cloud darkening your time. despite hizashi’s numerous attempts to get shota to come over and talk to the two of you, he refused. you’d wave and say hi in the hallways, only to be met with a blank stare. it was safe to say that shota really didn’t want to talk to you.

“he’s just being stubborn,” hizashi said, as the two of you sat together in the teacher’s lounge. you supposed on your cup of tea, mulling over shota’s actions in your mind. “hizashi I still have no idea what I did,” you answered after a few moments, your voice soft and unsure.

hizashi sighed, leaning back on the couch, his head resting on the back of it. “it wasn’t anything you did… it’s just what he didn’t do… if that makes any sense,” he responded, and you exhaled deeply. “I just don’t know how that day could’ve affected so many years of friendship! I know I was a little reckless but still, I came out all right!” you said, and hizashi sighed.

“I know, but you have to understand, we were scared shitless when you took that fall,” he said, and you pursed your lips. before you could even think back to that fateful day, the door to the teacher’s lounge opened, and in walked none other than you’re old employer, all-might. he looked exhausted, with a drop of blood at the corner of his mouth.

“all might! shouldn’t you be at the USJ with class 1-a?” hizashi asks the number one pro hero, who sighs deeply.

“yeah, but I got caught up in heroics this morning, can’t go anywhere til I’ve rested for an hour or so,” he says, bitterness seeping into his tone. he slowly pads over to the couches, taking a seat next to you.

“how have you first few weeks been going?” he asks, and you smile at the pro. “they’ve been good, although I keep getting some serious deja vú from being here,” you say with a chuckle, which the pro joins in on. easy conversation soon falls over the three of you as you chat about the students of class 1-a, and even the young izuku midoriya, who was constantly getting injured after using his quirk. however, your mind kept flipping back to your brief and cold interactions with shota, and you found yourself once again racking your brain, trying to come up with an explanation for why he treated you so,

you did this so often that your brain quickly sifted through your memories, conjecturing possible reasons for why your high school friend no longer cared to give you the time of day. how he looked at you with eyes that held no fondness, no sincerity. you’d only ever come to one conclusion: that shota aizawa had simply had enough of you. it pained you to think this way, to think that your shota, your friend who willingly listened to you ramble for hours on end, would grow tired of you. but it was your only answer.

ever since the incident, the two of you had been torn apart. you and hizashi remained the same, but something lingered between you and shota that you couldn’t quite place. something cold and distant, mainly from him. no matter how often you went out of your way, nothing seemed to bring back shota’s old behavior around you.

so, you’d taken matters into your own hands and moved out. you’d received an offer to help build up your own agency from the ground, and looked at the opportunity like a new beginning. a new chance to make new friends, and to put shota out of your mind for good.

it didn’t help that you still constantly saw him around after the fact. and that despite the numerous dates you went on, none of the men measured up to your shaggy black haired friend. the curse of loving your best friend is not for the mighty.

you suddenly snapped out of your thoughts as you heard your name called out.

“lost in thought?” all might asked, and you nodded sheepishly.

“do you want to accompany me to the USJ? now that I’m rested up I’m more than capable of heading over heading over and finally helping aizawa out. I’m sure he’d be happy for some extra help!” all might spoke, and your stomach tumbled at the mention of shota.

“she’d love to! it’d be good for her to talk to the younger students,” hizashi spoke for you, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“well, let’s get going then!” all might said, and as he entered his hero form, you turned back to hizashi as you left the teacher’s lounge.

“you owe me,” you said, and your blond friend only laughed at your peril.

you and all might soon walked out of the school building, and prepared to activate your power in order to zoom over to the school. however, as soon as the two of you made it no more than few feet past the school grounds, a figure came sprinting into the distance, catching you off guard as you squinted your eyes.

you recognized the figure as a boy from class 1-a, and your face scrunched in confusion as you racked your brain, trying to come up with an idea of why the boy would be running to UA from the USJ. you and all might quickly made your way to the boy. upon reaching him, he had a panicked look on his face, as he relayed a message to you.

“all might! blue phantom! thank goodness I’ve run into you! villains attacked us at the USJ we need your help!” tenya iida quickly explained, and your eyes widened, concern flooding over you. “thank you for telling us tenya, go alert the other professors, we’ll head over right away!” all might spoke, and the two of you took off in the direction of the USJ. you activated your blue orbs, quickly tapping your hands to your feet, gluing them to your shoes as you kicked off the ground and the orbs propelled you through the air.

the USJ soon came into view, and you willed yourself to go faster as you and all might neared the building. the two of you touched on the ground next to the school, and you stood to the side as all might quickly blew through the side of the USJ, before he signaled for you to wait a few moments while he made his entrance. you nodded in understanding, quickly transferring your blue orbs back to your and, splitting them into four before slowly sending them into a spin around you.

you heard chaos ensue as all might assumed battle, and you assumed it was time for you to enter. you quickly rushed through the opening all might had made, willing two of the four orbs around you to form a force field in front of you. as you ran in, you were greeted with smoke, as you watched all might take on a weird looking creature with an open brain who was guarding some weird hand villain behind him. your eyes flashed to the nearby students, and you yelled at them to make a dash for the entrance. your heart felt like it was being squished as you saw a severely wounded thirteen, being held up by ochaco uraraka.

your eyes glanced to a few other students, and you feel as if a thousand knives stabbed you as you watched two students struggle to carry a severely wounded shota aizawa. your feet suddenly broke into a frantic sprint, as you quickly avoided the blasts from all might and the creature, lunging for shota.

“I’ve got him, you guys keep going for the exit!” you called out, as you carefully scooped shota up, wincing at his weight. you willed your feet to move, as you called out to others to dash for the exit, silently praying the other teachers would show up, as more villains soon swarmed the area. you looked down to shota, and you heard his soft, jagged breaths. “just give me a minute shota, just hold on, please,” you said softly as you tightened your grip around his bloodied and battered figure. you quickly made it to the entrance of the USJ, safely getting shota, thirteen, and a handful of class 1-a students out of harms way.

you felt tears start to cloud your vision as you carefully set shota down, making sure you didn’t lay him in a way that could injure him any further. “y/n, we’ll be okay here, go back in and get more students,” you heard an injured thirteen say, and you glanced up at her, your face twisting in a phantom pain as you looked at her.

“but—“ you started, only to be cut off by thirteen again.

“aizawa will be okay, recovery girl will be able to heal him,” she added, and you gulped down the bile thag rose in your throat. you looked down once more to the man in front of you, caked in blood, eyes closed shut, chest rising ever so slightly to signify he was still alive. you bit your lip, as your mind raced a million thoughts a minute.

“y/n—“ thirteen started again, but this time you cut her off instead.

“I haven’t done this in ages, but he clearly needs medical attention now,” you said firmly, and some of the students of class 1-a looked at you, curious to see what you were talking about.

you summoned the four orbs to merge into two, and you reached your arms out over shota, as blue light began to emanate from your hands, encompassing his body in a warm, soft, blue glow. you closed your eyes shut, and your brow furrowed as you concentrated harder than you had in ages when using your powers.

“blue phantom— healing light!” you exclaimed, as you felt your power and energy slowly sleeping into shota’s body. the few students around you watched in awe as blue light filled their vision, their teacher’s injuries slowly healing, life slowly coming back into his face. it only lasted a few moments, as your power soon faltered, and you soon felt a wave of nausea and dizziness ensue as you brought your hands both to your sides. you slouched slightly, exhaling heavily as you saw shota sift slightly, and your heart sighed in relief. just as he turned his head towards you ever so slightly, you quickly stood up, head rushing as you told the students to stay put before running into the USJ.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶

“yo! do you think you could heal people with blue orbs?” hizashi asked, and you shrugged.

“I don’t know I’ve never really tried. I don’t even know what I’d need to do in order to try and heal someone with them,” you replied, biting into your chicken sandwich. you, shota, and hizashi sat on a bench outside quietly enjoying your lunch.

“sounds dumb,” is all shota ads, and hizashi groans.

“shotaaaaa, you’re telling me you’re not the least bit interested in seeing what orby here can do?” hizashi said, poking shota’s arm, to which he earned a glare from the shaggy black haired boy.

you noticed that on shota’s hand was a small scratch, and a light bulb went off in your head. “shota! give me your hand!” you spoke, failing to notice the faint blush that spread over his cheeks at your request. he tentatively reach a hand out to you, and you pulled it toward you, resting it on the wooden picnic table.

“y/n, what are you doing?” hizashi asked, and you smiled. “wait and see,” was all you responded with, as you willed the blue orbs to your hands, a blue glow emanating around you. you held out your hands over his own, and the two orbs merged, the blue glow growing as you felt energy rush through your body,

“blue healing light!” you called out, and your hair shot behind you, as a bright blue glow encompassed the picnic table, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt the energy from your body start to leave you, your mind growing dizzy with the passing moments.

as soon as you felt as if you were about to pass out, you let go, and the blue light ceased. however, just as hizashi was about to ask you if you were okay, you passed out, hitting the ground with a thump as your two friends frantically tried to wake you up.

you finally opened your eyes, and you were met with the white ceilings of recovery’s girl room. you groaned slightly, and as you turned to your side, your eyes met with hizashi and shota, who were chatting with recovery girl on the other side of the room. shota’s eyes picked up your movement, and he motioned over to your bed. the three of them made their way over to you, and you pushed yourself up, back to the pillow on the bed.

“ms. l/n, while I praise your valiant efforts to heal your fellow students, I must warn you against it next time!” she chided, and you gave her a guilty smile.

“despite the fact that you were successful, the fact that you passed out after healing a small cut means that it takes a significant toll from your energy, so unless you plan to go down the healing track, please stick to your hero studies!” she added on, and you nodded feverishly.

“yes ma’am I promise I won’t do it again!” you said, before you quickly joined hizashi and shota, who were waiting in the entrance to the recovery room.

“sorry about that guys,” you said softly, and the two expressions on your friends’ faces differed wildly. hizashi looked at you with a smile of approval, and shota looked like a disappointed dad.

“buuuuuutttt, recovery girl did say that I did heal you! show me your hand pleaseeee shota!” you spoke, not even allowing shota to give you his hand, opting to grab it instead, pulling his warm hand close to your face as you inspected where the scratch had previously, now completely gone.

“woah, i did it!” you exclaimed, and you beamed up at shota, who rolled his eyes.

“don’t do it again,” was all he said, and you sighed.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶

you sighed in exhaustion as you wrapped up your statement for the police. the fight had been taxing on your body, and you were sure a majority of your energy had been used up when you tried to heal shota. you hadn’t don’t that in what? over a decade? and last time that was only a tiny scratch. but now that you think about it, you could feel some dizziness start to set in, vision getting a little blurry as you saw hizashi nearing you.

“you really are the number eight hero, aren’t you orby?” hizashi said, offering you an arm, which you gladly took, stumbling into him slightly. “gosh, I feel so so dizzy,” you mumbled, and hizashi flicked your forehead, and on groaned.

“was that necessary?” you said, and your blonde friend chuckled, much to your chagrin.

“heard some kids talking about you using blue orbs to heal shota or something. you know what happens to you when you use that dumbass,” hizashi said, and you shrugged.

“I couldn’t just let him die out,” you began, and hizashi cut you off in an instant.

“from what thirteen told me, he was gonna be okay, but why don’t we see what recovery girl has to say,” hizashi said, and you nodded, feeling too weak to fight back as you and hizashi hitched a ride with a cop over to UA.

the two of you made your way to the hospital ward, passing by thirteen’s room as well as izuku midoriya’s, before you finally found shota’s room, recovery girl studying his vitals. hizashi cleared his throat, and recovery girl’s head turned toward the two of you. she narrowed her eyes at you, and you offered her a timid wave.

“I should be scolding you right now for pulling the stunt that you did,” recovery girl spoke, and you squeezed hizashi’s arm, leaning into him for support, your dizzy spell still holding you.

“but, if you hadn’t stepped in, the damage would’ve been worse to his body and quirk. and I have to say, I am impressed you didn’t faint on the spot. you’ve grown, ms l/n,” recovery girl said, offering you an encouraging smile.

“so he’ll be okay?” you asked shyly, and recovery girl nodded.

“he’ll be just fine. he may not be able to use his quirk for as long, but he’ll heal up just find, no need to worry any longer,” she responded, and you smiled. a sudden shift from shota startled you, and you found yourself peeling away from hizashi, who gave you a weird look.

“you know he won’t want to see me, i should go,” you said quietly, despite your heart telling you to stay. but, you knew better than to force yourself on him, no matter how much you craved to see him, to speak to him, to know that he truly was okay.

hizashi didn’t fight you, simply watched as you slipped out of the room. you began to take a step or two, before your previous dizziness took over, and you sunk against the wall, hand against your temple as you slowly lowered yourself to the ground. a once dull ache in your head slowly turned into a throbbing, no doubt the work of using your quirk so much, all your energy was zapped from your body.

suddenly, you heard his voice ring out, cutting through the air, and you inhaled sharply. you tried to block out the voices of shota, hizashi, and recovery girl, but it was no use. you felt bad eavesdropping but at the same time, this was the most you'd heard shota talk in ages. "if it hadn't been for ms l/n, the damage would have been far more severe," recovery girl spoke, as she went over the damages shota had endured. she listed off some recovery things he needed to note, before she seemingly went through a different door in the room. as the door closed shut, shota's voice interrupted the silence recovery girl had left.

"still doesn't change anything," shota spoke, his voice firm.

"you really can't be saying that at a time like this dude. she literally risked herself to heal you up," hizashi interceded, his voice strained slightly.

"i didn't ask her to do that," was all shota responded, and you felt your heart twing in pain. he really was just tired of you. done with your antics, personality, done with you.

"what happens when she actually gets hurt one day? are you gonna ignore it and just act like being detached from her is going to somehow make it easier to deal with the pain when she's hurt? i mean i pray to whoever's out there she'll never see death, but is this really how you want her to remember you?" hizashi spoke, voice laced with annoyance and frustration at his friend.

"you forget i did watch her die. this doesn't change anything hizashi, we've had this conversation a million times!" shota responded, voice cracking with exhaustion. you could feel your heart racing, as a whirlwind of emotions overtook you. you willed yourself to stand, but you felt so weak. you were suddenly paranoid about making any noise and suddenly getting caught by the pair.

"she survived! look, we all promised each other we'd stick together, and obviously you've ignored that. but still, at least show her a little kindness!" hizashi spoke exasperatedly. you silently put a hand over your mouth to stop the quiet sobs that had started to form in your throat.

why was it that the incident had changed everything?

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶

as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated!

taglist (7/50): @pixelcafe-network @mjuhgydxf @mirophobic @khaylin27 @l0ckedtomb @jxisnwaol @vynn01 @jinnyart06

#bnha #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha aizawa #shota aizawa x reader #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #shota aizawa #aizawa #bnha aizawa

83 notes · View notes

yoiisa · 3 days ago

Note

HEEELLAURRR

can I request headcanon bllk boys anyone of your choice including sae 🙏🏻 with wifey reader during post pantrum depression since no one writes about it 😔 and it’s the boys just helping her out here and there??

ofc!!, I’ll do sae, bachira, isagi, and kunigami

all characters aged up (20+)! Tags: TW for depression, anxiety, self-loathing language, and feelings of inadequacy. Reader is struggling w depression in this fic, so proceed with caution for sure! major angst (argument between couple in Isagi's) with tiny doses of fluff throughout, hurt with only a tiny bit of comfort (except for kuni and maybe isagi)

if you ever find yourself struggling with ppd please call 1-800-944-4773 or visit postpartum.net i have so much respect for mothers out there, but please remember that the best mothers take care of themselves as well as their babies!! you got this babe, and with that let's get on to the fic

➜ at first, having a baby with sae itoshi was fine. everything was going smoothly- well, as smoothly as having a newborn could ➜ still, there was always that nagging feeling in the back of your mind that festered in you. it was dark and cold and rose like bile in your throat that you had to swallow down ➜ the monotony of every day settling in on you was only feeding the dread inside of you. waking at the ass crack of dawn for a diaper change or to feed, and then running around all day caring for your daughter's every whim and desire ➜ sae helped where he could, but obviously there were some tasks only you could accomplish, and it was driving you to a brink ➜ eventually, he had to leave to go to Spain for some work, and you swore up and down that you could handle him being gone for a couple weeks. he was reluctant to leave you alone, but duty called after all, so he left ➜ and suddenly, that darkness consumed all of you and it was too much. you just . . . snapped

Sae knew leaving you alone was a bad idea. He'd seen the ways you'd been tiring yourself out, running after Yuki, and without him around, he worried seriously for your health. Nonetheless, you'd insisted that he go to Spain for his work, instead of just trying to handle it all from Japan itself. "I'll be fine, you don't need to worry," you insist, you're head on his chest. "She's been at home for 4 months now, I've gotten our routine down to a science by now." Sae played with your hair, twirling the locks around his fingers as he hummed, "Okay. I'll go then." As he was leaving, he made sure you promised him that if anything happened, anything at all, that you would immediately call him and tell him. You'd just waved him off, which did absolutely nothing to quell the dread in his stomach about leaving. He knows you don't notice how attentive he really is to you, but he notices everything about you. He worships the smallest details that make you who you are, that make you his wife. With that in mind, it's so incredibly frustrating when you think he doesn't notice how your smile doesn't reach your eyes anymore, or how your skin has become dry because you haven't been drinking enough water. It's 2:41 A.M. when he gets the call. It's been a week since he'd left for Spain. He peels his mask off and blinks blearily at his phone, which vibrates along his hotel's night stand. It should be around 9 where you are right now, which is pretty early for you to be calling him . . . unless something happened. Sae instantly sits up alert, his heart racing as he answers and puts his phone to his ear, "Hello? Y/N, what's wrong?" You're silent for a moment, which allows him to hear Yuki screaming her lungs out in the background of the call. Finally, you croak, "Help. Please, she won't stop crying. She's been up since 1 in the morning, and I . . . I don't know what to do." Sae's breath hitches. "I'm coming home." He can tell the guilt is eating you alive as you whisper his name, but he doesn't care. He cuts off any protests you might have with a, "My girls need me. I'm coming home. I'll get on the next available flight. I'll see you soon. I love you." His heart shatters as you don't return the affection, instead just sobbing into the microphone, "I'm sorry."

➜ part of the reason bachira meguru fell for you was because of your smile ➜ you exuded happiness and joy with every step you took and he was drawn to that aura like a moth to a flame ➜ but after having your baby, bachira noticed that the glow you had once was drained from you like a sponge. you traded in your glowing eyes for dark circles and your frown seemed perpetual ➜ worse yet, he noticed how rarely you smiled at your son ➜ at the beginning, when things weren't as bad, you would offer up the occasionally tiny smile, but you'd become so distant from the boy as of late. you'd become distant from him as well ➜ and he hates it. he did what he could to try and pull you back to his side, to get him to tell him what's wrong, but nothing was working, and it was starting to make him feel in over his head as well ➜ he cracks eventually and calls his mom, completely lost on how to help you navigate your depression

It all happens in a blur. One minute, Bachira is walking into your son's nursery to put some laundry away and the next minute, his entire world tilts as you whisper, "I don't love him." You're standing over Kaede's crib, just staring down at the little swaddled thing. Your husband is at your side in an instant, his hands squeezing your arms as he's begging for an explanation. You practically fall into his chest, your legs weak as you fall to the floor. You're not crying or anything, it's like your body's too weak for even that. All you can manage is the quietest, "I don't . . . feel how I'm supposed to when I look at him. I don't know what's happening." Bachira and you stay curled up together on the floor for a while, until Kaede starts crying. You tense in his arms as the shrill sound pierces your ears. Bachira shoots up from the floor and tends to your son, leaving you lying there as helplessness washes over him. Once you've gone to bed later that night, he instantly is on the phone with his mom. "I don't know, is something wrong with her? Should I be scared for Kaede? I don't want him to get hurt," Bachira sighs, rubbing his forehead. "I don't think Y/N will hurt him," Yu sighs on the other end of the line. "She's probably just overwhelmed right now. A lot of women go through this when they first have their kids. We get told a lot that motherhood is this wonderful thing, but a lot of times, the amount of work it takes is exhausting and is completely glossed over. The stress of it all can cause new moms to get really bad depression. It can make you want to give up on everything sometimes." Bachira bites at the skin around his nails before asking meekly, "Did you want to give up on me?" "No," Yu replies fondly, recalling the days of Bachira's infancy. "Believe it or not, you weren't a fussy baby at all. It made being a single mother easier at first, but when you got older, well, you know." Bachira nods as Yu continues, "Why don't I come over for the next week or so? I can help Y/N take care of Kaede, and the two of you can also get some alone time, if I take Kaede off your hands for a while." "Seriously? You don't mind?" Yu shakes her head, her smile widening. "It'd be my pleasure. I'll also talk with Y/N as well. Hopefully she'll feel a bit better. I knew someone who had post partum depression . . . I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."

➜ isagi yoichi hates feeling powerless more than anything in the world ➜ it's part of the reason he was able to adapt so well in the world of soccer after all. he encounters all kinds of players on the field, and he needs to be flexible with himself in order to make sure he doesn't sink underneath all the talent ➜ but babies are different. they don't operate on logic or patterns or anything like that. they feel everything in excruciating levels and the same can be said for depression ➜ when isagi notices that something's up with you too, in addition to the learning curve of having a newborn son around, he also gets thrown in way in over his head ➜ the two of you begin to have arguments a lot as a result. he is upset because the entire pregnancy, you'd been raving about how you couldn't wait to have a kid, and now? now all of that was gone ➜ after a particularly explosive fight, he finally sees the pain you're going through as well, best believe he'll do whatever he can to make sure you get the help you need ➜ after all, he can't do this by himself

"Yoichi please-" "I just don't understand," Isagi groans, kneeling in front of you. His hands are on your knees and his face is bowed. "I . . . I thought we agreed that this is what we wanted? Why are you backing out now that Ryuji's already here?!" "Who said I was backing out?" you ask incredulously. "Haven't I been doing everything I can? I've been feeding him, changing him, comforting him when he cries. I haven't showered in a week for fucks sake!" "And you look a million miles away throughout it all! You have this face- this horrible distant expression! I just don't understand, didn't you want this?" You slip up and shout, "Who would want this?!" and Isagi flinches back. The two of you stare at one another in horror, before your husband's face contorts to something between grief and anger. "The hell does that mean?" he growls and you lose it. You start bawling and screaming, "Who wants a life confined to just this?! To sore breasts and shit stains and hair pulling and the crying- he won't stop fucking crying! I can't make him stop, you can't make him stop! I don't know what to do!" You fall onto the floor, your hands stabilizing yourself on Isagi's shoulders as you continue to wail. "I want to be there with him! I want to hold my son and be happy to be a mother, but I just can't. Everything feels so big when I hold him, and I feel so small. I hate myself for it! I see other mother's and feel horrible, like why can't I just be them?! It . . . I hate myself so much. I'm horrible. I'm so horrible." Isagi's heart shatters as you cry and he instantly wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. You tuck your face into his neck and inhale, breathing him in in a way you haven't done since long before Ryuji was born. You stay like that for a while before you croak, "You need to leave me." "What?" Isagi blanches. "I'm not cut out for this whole motherhood thing. I'm so scared one day, I'll do something terrible to Ryu. Something that'll hurt him. I'm not safe to be around. You need to leave me." Isagi stills, his heart pounding a mile a minute. Finally he manages, "I'm taking you to a doctor tomorrow. A psychiatrist at the hospital hopefully. Ryuji will go to my parent's house for a while until we can figure out what to do next." Before you can protest anything, he kisses your forehead. "And that step will not be to leave you. Not in a million years, so you can just forget about that."

➜ kunigami rensuke would quite frankly be the best person at helping you deal with your depression ➜ he knows the intensity of depression, and what it can do to people, especially when they are feeling isolated and alone. he did go through the wild card program after all ➜ he thinks back to how he was during his wild card training and the nel, and to know you're experiencing that kinda intense depression right now pains him beyond the telling ➜ ultimately, he just stays by your side no matter what. if you need space from your daughter, he's quick to help you get some quiet. if you need a shoulder to cry on, he'll hold you for as long as he can, letting your tears soak his shirt without a word of complaint ➜ after all, you've given him the gift of your daughter, so the least he can do is take care of her mother, and his wife, as well

You're sitting up in bed, your eyes closed and a cup of tea in your hands. It's only half drunk and starting to cool, but the cup is still warm enough to keep your hands from freezing, so you hold tight. Eventually, Kunigami steps into the bedroom, a soft smile on his face as he sees you. He walks up to you and sits beside you, his head resting on your lap. "Is Sakura asleep?" You ask, petting his orange hair. He hums in confirmation and peeks up at you through his lashes. You take note of the dark circles under his eyes and you look away, guilt eating at you. "I'm sorry," you whisper, and he tilts his head. "For what?" You purse your lips before sighing. You set the tea off to the side and close your eyes. "For making you do all the work. I wish I . . . I was a better mom and wife." He shoots up, immediately his hands going to your cheeks, brushing away imaginary tears. "Hey, hey none of that. You're an excellent mother, and a wonderful wife. Why on earth would you think otherwise?" "Because you've taken all the hard jobs like putting her to sleep and changing her-" "Because you've already done more than enough for her and for me. You keep her alive- hell you gave her life- and you continue to do other things around the house, like cooking amazing food for me. I couldn't ask for anything more, truly." You lean into his hands. A tear leaks from your eyes as you ask, "Really, Ren?" Kunigami nods and presses his forehead against yours. "Just keep doing what you're doing. If I need help, I'll ask, and if you need help, ask. I don't ever want you to feel like you're not doing enough or that you're alone. You're not, you never will be, not while I'm here." You sob, and he kisses you through it, his lips soft against yours. For the first time in months, you feel like you can properly relax.

a/n: this is prob gonna get a tad bit personal, but i just wanna reiterate how much love and respect I hold for mothers out there. all of the women in my fam have problems with their reproductive health, and it's likely that I will too when I'm older. Despite this, they've never been anything but incredibly mothers and role models and I love my mom, my aunts, and my grandma dearly

i also want to be a mom when I'm older and I encourage everyone who also wants this to do some serious research into what pregnancy/motherhood entails. it's rough out here for us girls and no one is gonna support us the way we will ourselves, and part of that means being educated on our bodies, despite the lack of proper research done with them a lot of times

anyways, rant over. love y'all and stay safe to all the mamas out there!

136 notes · View notes

gohyemi · 1 day ago

Text

the first snow

pairing: wonwoo x reader

warnings: heavy angst

a/n: it's a long one..

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ "Damn it, why now?" Y/N groaned, kicking the flat tire in frustration. “I have a wedding to go to, and you decide today’s the best day to go flat?”

It was snowing steadily, the cold seeping through her coat as she stood at the side of a quiet street. Her breath fogged in the air, and all she could think about was how this day was turning into a disaster. She trudged to the trunk, yanking it open to reveal the spare tire and a set of tools. The problem was—she had no idea how to use them.

Crouching beside the car, she squinted at the flat tire, trying to figure out what to do. Her fingers were already going numb from the cold. As she stared blankly at the wheel, completely zoned out, a sudden shadow loomed behind her.

The snow stopped falling on her head and shoulders.

Confused, she looked up and found a man standing beside her, holding an umbrella over both of them. He was tall, with soft dark hair and a sharp jawline, dressed in a white shirt under a black blazer and matching trousers. Handsome. Maybe a little older than her.

“Need help, miss?” he asked with a kind smile.

She blinked, slightly stunned, then quickly coughed and nodded. “Yes, please. That would be... amazing.”

Without hesitation, he set the umbrella handle between his shoulder and cheek and crouched down beside her.

“I think I can manage this”, he handed the umbrella to y/n

He got to work on the tire, explaining each step as he went. Y/N mostly stayed quiet, watching his confident movements, silently grateful that someone like him had appeared out of nowhere.

He looked like he had somewhere important to be—maybe a business meeting or a formal event. His sleeves were dusted with snow, and yet he didn't seem to care.

“I’m really sorry for taking your time,” Y/N said, guilt creeping in. “You must have plans or something.”

“It’s fine,” he said casually, flashing her a small smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

A few minutes later, he tightened the last bolt and stood up, brushing his hands off. “And... done! You’re all good to go.”

Y/N stood up quickly, brushing snow off her coat. “Thank you so much, really. I don’t know what I would’ve done without—”

Her phone rang, cutting her off. She fumbled it out of her pocket, checking the screen. It was her cousin.

She answered. “Hello?”

“Y/N, where are you?!” her cousin half-shouted. “The ceremony’s about to start!”

“Shoot,” Y/N whispered, glancing up at her savior. “I’ve got to go—thank you again!”

She gave him a quick bow of gratitude, then took off running.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Y/N dashed into the wedding venue, her heels clicking loudly on the tiled floor. The warm air hit her as she entered, a stark contrast to the snowy chill outside. She paused to catch her breath, her eyes scanning the room.

Guests were already digging into their meals, chatting happily. She felt a wave of guilt crash over her—she had missed the ceremony.

Spotting her cousin in a gorgeous white gown talking to guests near the front, Y/N made her way through the tables.

“Y/N! You came!” her cousin beamed, pulling her into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry I missed the ceremony,” Y/N said breathlessly. “There was... a tire emergency. My car gave up on me.”

Her cousin laughed, brushing it off. “It’s okay, girl. I’m just happy you made it.”

After a few words with the groom and some light teasing from relatives about her dramatic entrance, the bride gave her a gentle nudge.

“Go enjoy the food first,” she said. “You look like you need some energy.”

“Trust me, I do,” Y/N said with a laugh, placing a hand over her stomach as it growled softly.

As Y/N made her way toward the buffet, her thoughts drifted back to the man who had helped her earlier. The snow, his quiet confidence, that warm smile under the umbrella... She hadn’t even asked for his name.

Shaking the memory from her mind, she picked up a plate and began piling it with food. The scent alone was enough to make her stomach growl. She took a bite of roasted chicken and practically moaned.

“This is so good!” she said to herself, savoring the flavors as she quickly dug in.

Just then, a familiar voice chimed in from beside her.

“Oh? We meet again, tire girl.”

She almost choked on her food.

Her eyes widened in shock as she turned to see him—the man from earlier—casually taking a seat next to her. He looked just as effortlessly cool,

“Hey, hey, careful,” he said, reaching over to gently pat her back. “Didn’t mean to give you a heart attack.”

Y/N finally caught her breath, blinking at him. “You—you're here too?”

“Apparently,” he said, flashing a soft grin. “Turns out this is my friend’s wedding.”

Before she could respond, the groom suddenly appeared beside them, looking delighted.

“Ahhh, Wonwoo!” he exclaimed, clapping the man on the back. “I see you’ve already met Y/N!”

Y/N blinked in surprise. Wonwoo...?

“Let me introduce you two properly,” the groom continued. “Y/N, this is my good friend Wonwoo. Wonwoo, this is Y/N—my wife cousin.”

“I was hoping you guys would meet, and I’m really glad you did.”

Wonwoo let out a small chuckle. “We actually did meet—on the way here, believe it or not.” He turned to her, a bit sheepish. “Sorry for not introducing myself properly earlier.”

He extended his hand. “I’m Jeon Wonwoo.”

Y/N reached out and shook it with a soft smile. “And I’m Y/N. Sorry, too, for being all... informal earlier.”

Now that she was seeing him under warm lights instead of falling snow, she could properly take in his features. His hair was slicked back, giving him that cool, slightly bad-boy vibe. The glint of his chrome heart glasses added a stylish edge. His face was sharp—high cheekbones, defined jaw—but his eyes... his eyes looked at her softly, like she was the only one in the room.

She swallowed, this time not from choking. Wow.

“Small world, huh?” he said, gently nudging his glasses up.

“Very,” Y/N replied, smiling wider than she meant to

“Enjoy the food! Feel free to take more,” the groom said with a grin before walking off to greet more guests.

Y/N smiled after him, still feeling the warmth of the moment. Just as she was about to dig into her second bite, Wonwoo leaned a little closer, lowering his voice.

“If I knew you were coming here too, I would've just picked you up.”

She let out a soft laugh. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably still be freezing on the side of the road... with an empty stomach.”

Wonwoo chuckled. “Like I said, it’s fine.” Then, with a playful smirk, he added, “Besides, it was worth it.”

He winked.

Y/N froze for half a second, her cheeks turning an instant shade of pink. She glanced away, trying to hide her blush behind a sip of her drink.

“Well... I hope I can repay your kindness somehow,” she said quietly.

Wonwoo tilted his head, thinking for a moment. Then his eyes lit up with a soft glimmer of charm. “Well... may I have forty minutes of your time? Just enough to take you out for coffee and conversation?”

Before Y/N could answer, a voice from the speakers boomed across the hall.

“Ladies, gather around! It’s time for the bouquet toss!”

Wonwoo gestured toward the crowd with a smile. “Go ahead. I’ll be right here.”

Y/N laughed and made her way into the growing circle of women while he slowly followed behind, hanging back at the edge of the crowd.

The bride stood in the center, bouquet in hand, hyping up the guests with cheers and teasing threats to throw it far.

“Ready?” she called.

The girls tensed, everyone eager, some half-pretending not to be. The bouquet soared through the air—and just like a scene straight out of a cliché romance, it bounced off two outstretched hands, flew up again, and landed squarely into Y/N’s arms.

The entire hall erupted in cheers.

“MY COUSIN, Y’ALL!” the bride screamed from the front. “I knew she’d be the next one!”

Y/N’s eyes went wide, bouquet in hand, laughter bubbling from her chest as the attention turned to her.

Then came the groom’s voice from across the room: “AND LOOK AT THE GUY BESIDE HER—THEY LOOK LIKE A MATCH!”

The spotlight shifted.

Wonwoo, who had just stepped beside Y/N again, froze for a beat—then smiled sheepishly as all eyes turned to them. The crowd clapped louder, a few people whistling playfully.

Both Y/N and Wonwoo stood there in the middle of the celebration, caught between laughter and shyness, cheeks flushed and hearts pounding.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Y/N rushed toward the coffee shop, her steps quick and uneven. It wasn’t just because she was late—it was because her heart skipped a beat the moment she saw him through the glass window.

There he was, sitting by the window with a book in hand, completely at ease, sunlight catching the side of his face. Calm, composed, and somehow still the very person who made her heart race.

She opened the door and stepped inside.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! Did you wait long?” she asked breathlessly, standing beside him with an apologetic look.

Wonwoo looked up and smiled, sliding the bookmark into place. “Nah, I just got here five minutes ago. Come sit.”

It had been a few months since that snowy road encounter. Since then, they’d met again at the wedding... and then again. A few coffee meetups turned into casual dinners, and every time felt a little more like a date—even if neither of them had officially said it. At least, that’s what Y/N told herself. But deep down, she was sure he felt the same way.

She had never fallen so hard, so fast. It was strange—how someone who was once a complete stranger could become such a vital part of her life. Now, just the thought of not seeing him left a hollow feeling inside her. And little did she know, Wonwoo felt exactly the same.

After grabbing takeaway coffee, they strolled to a nearby park. Spring had just begun. Trees were beginning to bloom with soft pink flowers, and a light breeze carried the scent of fresh petals. Sunshine filtered through the branches, warm but not overwhelming.

They wandered toward a small bridge that arched over a slow, peaceful river. The sound of water flowing beneath them and the sight of the blossoms created the perfect scene.

“Such a nice day, right?” Y/N said, taking a deep breath, eyes closed for a moment as she felt the wind kiss her skin.

She noticed the silence beside her and turned to find Wonwoo staring out at the river, lost in thought.

“Wonwoo-shi? Is everything alright?” she asked gently.

He blinked out of his daze, looking at her with a slightly confused expression before smiling. “Oh—yeah. Everything’s fine, don’t worry.”

Then his eyes flicked to her hair. “Wait—hold still,” he said, reaching up.

He plucked a soft pink petal from her hair and gently blew it toward her face, making her flinch and laugh.

“You cheeky—” Y/N narrowed her eyes in mock annoyance and started to walk away dramatically.

But before she could take two steps, Wonwoo chuckled and gently grabbed her hand, stopping her. She turned back around, barely suppressing a smile, and found him just looking at her.

“You know,” Wonwoo began, his voice softer now, “it fascinates me how we met during the first snowfall... and now here we are, sharing our first spring together.”

He glanced down, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

“It feels like... a new beginning.”

“Our new beginning,” he added, looking up and meeting her eyes.

There was something in his gaze. Something that couldn’t quite be described with words—but she felt it in the air, in the way her heart fluttered, in the way his pupils softened even with those sharp eyes of his.

Y/N tilted her head, a little confused but intrigued. “I’m not following…”

Wonwoo took a breath, steadying himself.

“I have feelings for you, Y/N.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“Heck… I think I’m in love with you,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “It was so easy to fall for you, but so hard for me to admit it—even to myself. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been holding it in. And now, I’m finally taking the courage to say it.”

He paused, swallowing hard.

“Will you… will you be my girlfriend?”

Y/N stood frozen for a heartbeat—too stunned to speak. Her heart was pounding in her chest like it was trying to burst out.

Then, suddenly, a wide grin spread across her face. She didn’t even say anything—she just launched herself into his arms, giggling as she hugged him tightly.

Wonwoo laughed softly, arms wrapping around her waist as he held her close.

“Is that a yes?” he asked into her hair.

“Yes,” she whispered, still smiling. “A hundred times yes.”

Wonwoo pulled her into another hug, arms wrapping around her as if he never wanted to let go. Y/N snuggled into his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming every part of her that had been anxious just moments ago.

His frame was broad and warm, and yet the way he held her—so careful, so gentle—felt like he was afraid she might disappear if he wasn’t careful enough. And at the same time, his embrace was firm, grounding her in a way that made the world seem to stop spinning.

“I love you too,” she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

Her voice was tender, almost trembling with emotion, and it made Wonwoo's breath hitch. He felt his heart swell at her words—like everything in the world had aligned just for this moment.

He slowly pulled away, just enough to look at her, arms remained wrapped around her waist. Their eyes met, and for a second, they simply smiled at each other—no need for anything else.

Wonwoo leaned forward, brushing a gentle kiss to her forehead. It was soft, reverent, full of emotion he couldn’t quite put into words.

And under the cherry blossoms, with the wind playing around them like a blessing, their new beginning truly began.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Being a couple came with its fair share of ups and downs. There were moments of laughter, comfort, and joy—but also arguments, misunderstandings, and learning curves. It took time—longer than either of them expected—to understand each other's boundaries, triggers, and ways of coping.

But through it all, love remained their anchor. Love, and the growing sense of responsibility they felt toward each other as partners.

“Let’s not fight anymore… I’m sorry, love. I regret shouting at you,” Y/N whispered as she slowly wrapped her arms around Wonwoo’s waist from behind.

He had been standing in the kitchen, facing the counter, trying to calm himself—trying to ease the tension that lingered heavy in the air like storm clouds. But the sound of her soft voice, muffled slightly by the fabric of his shirt, reached something deep inside him.

His shoulders relaxed almost instantly.

He turned around, gently pulling her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. “Me too,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m sorry. I let my emotions get the best of me.”

They stood there in silence, the hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the background. It wasn’t perfect, but neither of them needed it to be. What mattered was that they always found their way back to each other.

Y/N nodded against him, her cheek pressed to his chest. “We’ll be okay, right?”

Wonwoo pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing her hair out of her face with a tenderness that made her eyes sting with emotion. “Yeah,” he said, a small smile curving his lips. “We’ll be okay. As long as we keep choosing each other—even on the hard days.”

And just like that, the storm passed. Not forgotten, but forgiven. And love—quiet, steady, and real—remained.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Wonwoo hummed along softly to the tune playing on his car’s radio, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel. The late afternoon sun painted golden streaks across his dashboard when a call notification popped up on the screen.

He smiled the moment he saw her name. Pressing the button, he greeted her with a warmth that could melt the whole city.

“Hello, sweetheart. How’s your day?”

He heard a bit of shuffling on the other end before her voice came through, tired but lighthearted.

“Just finished the longest surgery of my life,” Y/N sighed, collapsing onto the top bunk in the small staff room at her workplace. She put the phone on speaker and rested it beside her on the pillow, both hands lying on her stomach as she stared up at the ceiling. “Thank God that man’s alive…”

Wonwoo’s expression softened instantly. “Please rest well. You work too hard.”

“I will… but only when you’re next to me~” she giggled, her voice drowsy yet playful.

His chest tightened at the sound. Two weeks. That’s how long it had been since he last saw her.

“How’s your work there?” she asked, her voice a little softer now. “When are you coming back?”

“Maybe next week?” he replied, though he already knew the truth. The meeting had gone better than expected, and he was already on his way back—speeding gently down the highway toward the city, toward her.

Y/N pouted slightly on the other end. “Please don’t forget to eat, Mr. Jeon. Take care of yourself, since I’m not there to nag you.”

Wonwoo chuckled, eyes briefly flickering to the red velvet box sitting in the passenger seat beside him. He reached over and opened it, revealing a simple yet elegant diamond ring that shimmered subtly under the sunlight.

It was minimalist—just like her taste—and he could already picture how perfectly it would fit on her finger.

“Will do, Doc,” he said with a smile, his voice holding a hidden excitement. “I’m in good hands.”

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Y/N had just finished her shift for the day. She slipped on her coat, eager to finally head home and rest. But just as she stepped out of the staff room, a nurse came running toward her, eyes wide with panic.

“Doctor Y/N! I know your shift’s over, but we really need your help—now!”

Without hesitation, Y/N tossed her coat onto the counter and grabbed a fresh pair of gloves and her emergency tools. Her exhaustion vanished, replaced with pure instinct.

“What’s the case?” she asked as they ran side by side down the hallway toward the emergency entrance.

“Male, 28 years old,” the nurse reported breathlessly. “Got into a car accident around 9:40 PM. He has minor injuries to his body, but it looks like there may be severe trauma to his head and spine.”

Y/N’s chest tightened. A strange uneasiness washed over her like a cold wave, her heart suddenly pounding faster—harder. It was an ache she couldn’t quite explain.

And then she saw it.

The ambulance pulled up. The doors flung open.

Her breath caught in her throat.

There, lying lifelessly on the stretcher, was Wonwoo—his body battered, blood staining the white sheets and trailing from a gash near his forehead, bruised and broken.

“No—no, no…” Y/N whispered, frozen in place.

A sharp voice snapped her out of it. “The last thing I need from you right now is getting distracted, Dr. Y/N. Move!” barked her senior doctor.

Swallowing her sobs, Y/N forced her legs to move, her instincts taking over. The team wheeled Wonwoo toward the surgery room, and she rushed alongside them, but her mind was spinning. She couldn’t think straight. All she could see was him.

The man she loved.

The man she just talked to earlier tonight.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Inside the operating room, everything was prepared—the lights, the tools, the team. But as Y/N stepped up to the table, her gaze locked on Wonwoo. His face was barely recognizable beneath the bruises and dried blood. The sight of him like this shattered something deep inside her.

Tears welled behind her surgical goggles, blurring her vision.

“Y/N, get out if you can’t handle this,” her senior warned sharply, tone cold but necessary.

“I can,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry. I can do this.”

“Then focus. There’s a life in our hands.”

Y/N took a deep breath and steadied her trembling hands. The buzzing of the machines, the beeping of his vitals, and the sound of instruments clinking filled the room. She couldn’t afford to break now.

Not when his life hung in the balance.

Throughout the surgery, she repeated one silent mantra in her mind like a prayer, over and over again:

Please live. Please be okay. Please come back to me.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

The surgery was over.

Y/N stepped out of the operating room, her hands still trembling, her breath uneven. The weight of the last few hours crushed her chest with every step. The moment she was out of sight, her legs gave out. She slumped against the cold corridor wall and slowly pulled off her scrub cap, her fingers barely functioning.

Tears streamed down her face, but no sound came out. The sobs were caught in her throat, choking her, too heavy to release. She buried her face in her hands, her body shaking with silent cries. The kind of pain that didn’t need words. The kind that made your soul ache.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N…” a fellow doctor crouched beside her and gently rubbed her back. But no words could console her—not when the only person who could calm her was the one she had just fought to save.

The doctor pulled her into a hug, and that was all it took. The dam broke.

A guttural sob tore from Y/N’s chest, loud and raw, echoing down the empty hallway. Her cries were full of grief and desperation, like something had been ripped from inside her.

“I-I can’t lose him,” she whispered through trembling lips, her voice barely holding together.

“We did everything we could, Y/N,” the doctor said softly, still holding her.

But that didn’t soothe her. Nothing could. Not when the love of her life lay unconscious, fighting for breath, for life.

And then—like a cruel wave—memories crashed over her.

His laugh. His warmth. The way he held her. The way he looked at her like she was his whole world.

All of it replayed in her mind—and all of it felt like it was slipping away.

“Dr. Y/N,” a nurse appeared gently, “the patient has been transferred to the Intensive Care Unit.”

Y/N slowly broke from the hug and wiped her face with trembling hands. Her eyes were swollen, but her expression held a quiet, fierce resolve. She stood up, steadying herself.

“You know you can see him later…”

“No,” Y/N said firmly, her voice low but unwavering. “I won’t waste a single second. I’m afraid there won’t be another chance to.”

And with that, she walked toward the ICU—toward him.

Y/N’s POV

I take a deep breath, the kind that hurts your chest more than it soothes it, and press the button to open the door.

The soft mechanical sound fills the silence, and then—there he is.

Lying there. Still. Pale. Surrounded by wires and machines keeping him stable.

My feet feel like they're weighed down with lead, but I move toward him anyway, slowly, as if any sudden movement might shatter what little hope I have left.

I reach out and gently take his hand, cold but still his. Still Wonwoo.

“You made a promise…” I whisper, barely able to get the words out.

The tears are quick this time. They blur my vision, fall to our joined hands, and I don’t bother wiping them away. My throat tightens painfully.

“You can’t just break it,” I say, voice cracking, trembling under the weight of fear. “You told me we had forever.”

I try to swallow the sob building inside me, but it escapes anyway.

“Please… we still have so many things to do together. You haven’t even met my parents properly. You haven’t taken me on that road trip you always talked about.”

My grip on his hand tightens, as if holding him hard enough could pull him back.

“Please, Wonwoo-ah… come back to me. I’m not ready to lose you.”

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

4 Years Later

The cold had returned, as it always did. The trees stood bare, their branches reaching out like quiet silhouettes against the grey sky. Winter was settling in.

Y/N crouched down slowly, the crunch of frost beneath her boots the only sound. She gently placed a bouquet of white lilies and baby's breath in front of the gravestone, her gloved fingers brushing away a stray leaf.

“How have you been up there?” she asked with a soft, melancholic smile, eyes focused on his name etched into the stone.

She sat on the cold ground beside the grave, tucking her coat tighter around herself as the breeze blew past. “Mine’s been tiring, as usual. Non-stop surgeries, meetings, back and forth every day. But I can’t really complain. My patients are the real fighters. They push through so much pain just to make it home.”

She let out a deep sigh, her voice quieter now.

“I miss you so much, love…”

Four years. Four winters without him. Yet the ache hadn’t dulled — if anything, it had simply settled into the spaces of her life, present in every quiet moment.

Every little joy carried a sting. The smell of coffee in the morning. The warmth of coming home after a long shift. The sound of laughter — not his, but close enough to stir her heart.

He should be there. He should be waiting at home. He should be beside her.

Her tears slipped out, uninvited, and she quickly wiped them with her sleeve. The wind picked up again, and she pressed a kiss to her gloved fingers, then placed them on the stone.

“I have to go, Wonwoo-ah. But I’ll come back next week, and for Christmas too,” she whispered. She stood up, slowly, taking one last look at the stone before turning toward the cemetery gate.

She made a quiet detour on her way home, one she hadn’t taken in a while. The park looked the same — quiet, dusted with snow, the pond partially frozen. Her steps led her to the bridge, the one that held so many memories. The very spot where he had first held her hand with trembling courage, where he had whispered his feelings into the cool spring air.

Y/N stood in the middle of the bridge and looked ahead. A soft smile formed on her lips.

She used to hate winter — its loneliness, its grey skies. But now, it was her favorite season. Winter brought her peace, a strange kind of comfort. After all, it was where it all began — the snow, the broken-down car, the stranger who would become her everything.

She tucked her hands into her coat pockets to shield them from the cold… and felt something.

Her fingers curled around it.

She pulled it out. The diamond ring.

And that when she remembered her last promise to him

4 Years Ago

“Y/N…”

A hoarse voice broke the silence, barely a whisper. Y/N flinched, eyes wide as she saw his slowly flutter open. Her heart stopped.

“Wonwoo…” she gasped, quickly standing and rushing to his side. Her hands reached for his, trembling as she held it gently.

“H-hey, it’s me,” she said softly, her voice cracking as her fingers caressed his bruised face.

“I’m so sorry, love,” he murmured weakly.

She shook her head quickly, tears already falling. “No… no, everything is fine. I should be the one apologizing.” Her voice trembled as sobs began to rise from her chest. “I’m sorry, Wonwoo-ah…”

She lowered her head, burying her guilt deep inside herself. She blamed herself — for not being there, for not stopping this.

“No, love…” His voice was fragile, but he forced his hand to lift. Shaking slightly, he touched her cheek, wiping away her tears with trembling fingers wrapped in wires.

“You crying… is the last thing I ever want to see.” He smiled faintly. “I’m glad… I can see you one last time.”

“No,” she shook her head, tears flowing faster. “Don’t say that… please.”

She pressed her lips to his palm, the warmth of her breath mixing with the tears soaking his hand. The lump in her throat made it nearly impossible to breathe.

“We both know the truth, Y/N…” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Don’t give us false hope. If you do… it’ll be harder for me to let go.”

Even as his eyelids drooped, he stared at her — as if trying to memorize every detail of her face for the last time.

“Make me a promise,” he whispered.

“Anything,” she replied without hesitation.

“Please be happy,” he said, eyes searching hers. “Live a beautiful life. Move on. That’s my last wish for you… I want you to smile again. I want you to find your happiness — so I can be at peace too.”

Her sobs grew louder, but he held her hand tightly.

“I was going to propose to you,” he continued with a faint chuckle. “But maybe… someone else will be the one to stand by your side. And that’s okay. Just… be happy. The way you used to be when you were with me.”

“Wonwoo-ah…” she cried, her whole body trembling.

“Please… for me,” he pleaded, a single tear slipping from the corner of his eye.

Y/N nodded slowly, her lips trembling as she forced a small, broken smile.

“If I have to,” he said with a weak laugh, “I’ll send someone down to love you for me.”

His breathing slowed. The monitor beside him kept its steady beat. He looked peaceful — even through the pain.

“I never regretted stopping to change your tire that day,” he whispered. “Because that was the day I found you — under the first snow. The day I fell for you, completely.”

Y/N leaned in, tears falling freely. She pressed a long kiss to his forehead, then met his gaze. For a moment, time froze.

Then she leaned closer, and their lips met — gentle, trembling, soaked in shared tears. A kiss that held every memory, every promise, every goodbye.

“I love you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible against his lips.

And just like that… She knew this moment would live forever — not just in her memory, But in her soul.

She stood still on the bridge, staring out at the quietly flowing river below. The soft wind kissed her cheeks, and her eyes reflected the gray sky above — distant, yet calm.

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at her lips.

Even now… even after all these years, she hadn’t found anyone else. Not because she hadn’t tried, but because no one could quite fill the space he left behind. And despite the promise she had made that night by his hospital bed, her heart still clung tightly to his memory.

She looked down at the ring she held in her gloved palm — the same minimalist diamond ring he had chosen, the one that suited her perfectly.

He always knew her taste.

Suddenly, a snowflake landed gently on the center of the ring. She looked up. Snow.

The first snow of the season had begun to fall, covering the town in a soft white hush. A cold breeze whispered past her ears, and she closed her eyes to let the silence settle in. It was the same kind of snow that had fallen on the day they met.

And just like that, the memories returned in a flood. His smile, his voice, his laugh. The way he’d call her “love” when she was stressed. How he always tucked her scarf in for her when it was too cold.

A light chuckle escaped her lips, followed by a soft exhale. She adjusted her scarf, wrapping it tighter around her neck, trying to shake off the chill seeping through the air… and maybe through her heart, too.

Just then, a shadow fell over her.

An umbrella appeared above her head, shielding her from the snowfall.

Surprised, Y/N blinked and turned around. Her brows furrowed slightly until her eyes landed on a tall man standing behind her — warm eyes, soft smile, dressed in a long coat. The snow clung lightly to his shoulders.

“You’ll catch a cold standing out here like that,” he said gently, his voice kind.

Y/N bowed slightly, a little taken aback. “Thank you…”

“Oh—wait, you’ve got some snow on you.” He leaned in carefully, brushing a few flakes from her hair and shoulder with a light touch.

“There. That’s better,” he said, then extended his hand with a friendly smile.

“By the way, I’m Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. Nice to meet you.”

the end

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

thank you for scrolling until the end!

taglist: @ateez-atiny380 @lilydaisylily @dreamingofpcy join my list of taglist

76 notes · View notes

band--psycho · 2 days ago

Text

Caleb x Reader - Pinky Promise

Part five of my 'They find out you got hurt on a mission' series. This will include Zayne, Sylus, Xavier and Rafayel!

This is also my first Caleb story so please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Warnings: Wound/cut on arm, mentions of blood and bandages

L&DS Masterlsit / Caleb Masterlist / Join My Taglsit

You knew that you probably should’ve gone to the hospital to get the gash on your arm seen to… but you were just so exhausted and the idea of waiting at the hospital for hours just filled you with more dread than you cared to admit.

Realistically, there was nothing that the hospital could do to help you that you couldn’t do yourself; you just needed to clean the wound and wrap a bandage around your arm to cover the area.

You felt like you’d just be wasting the hospital staff's time by going.

All you wanted to do was go home; sort out your injury and collapse in bed; and that is exactly what you did.

You wrapped the covers around your body and let the warmth and comfort of your bed lull you to sleep, a sleep which you so clearly needed.

You were in such a deep sleep, that you didn’t hear Caleb come home; that was until you felt yourself being shaken awake, frantically.

“What?” You grumbled grumpily, snuggling into the stuffed bear Caleb had won you from the arcade not too long ago.

“Are you okay?”

The worry in Caleb’s tone was clear.

It took you a few moments to understand why that was, until you remembered the injury you’d obtained earlier in the day.

You opened your eyes, feeling the bed dip slightly as Caleb sat next to you, his eyes darting between your own eyes and the bandage on your arm, where some blood had leaked through a little.

“It’s fine,” you assured him softly, trying not to wince as you moved your arm in an attempt to prove a point, to yourself more so than Caleb.

Given the frown tugging on Caleb's lips though, he knew that you were lying.

Of course he did.

He knew you better than anyone ever could.

“Don’t lie to me, baby,” he scolded softly, delicately lifting your arm up, slowly unwrapping the bandage from your wound so that he could properly assess the severity of your injury.

“Okay, it hurts a bit,” you admitted quietly, hating how easily the man in front of you could read you.

“But it’s nothing serious,” you added, knowing that in the grand scheme of things, your injuries could’ve been much, much worse.

“Why do you always downplay your injuries?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he unwrapped the penultimate layer of your bandage.

You didn’t mean to downplay your injuries, you really didn’t.

You just didn’t like worrying people…you especially didn’t like worrying Caleb.

But Caleb always worried about you, he had done since you were kids and that certainly wasn’t going to change now that you two were together, if anything it just made the worry he felt more intense.

“Y/n,” he began, the use of your name instead of baby, pipsqueak or sweetheart, instantly signifying to you how unhappy he was.

“This” he continued, his thumb gently tracing up your arm alongside the wound, “is serious”

“You’ve had worse injuries than this before,” you pointed out, knowing that this injury was nothing compared to the ones he’d gotten over the years; but Caleb simply shrugged off your words, you were trying to change the subject.

He was aware of that; and he wasn't going to let you do it, this was about you, not him.

“Why didn't you call me?”

Confusion and hurt filled not only his voice but his eyes as well.

“You were at work,” you replied softly, but your answer just made Caleb shake his head, his other hand moving to your face, caressing your cheek softly.

“You know I would’ve dropped everything if I’d have known?”

You nodded.

Of course you did.

But you just felt like calling him over something like this was just silly.

You were a hunter.

Being hurt on a mission was always a risk, no matter how skilled you or your team were, occasionally things like this happened.

“This is part of my job,” you reminded him, moving your head slightly, your lips pressing a small kiss onto Caleb’s palm.

He knew that it was a part of your job, it was a part that he deeply despised because it put you at risk…but he knew how happy it made you and that you weren’t going to stop.

“Next time, if you get any injury, you call me straight away, I don't care if you think it’s not serious, you tell me, understand?”

“I will,” you agreed, leaning into the warmth of his touch with a small smile on your face.

“Pinky promise?” He asked, his lips curling upwards into a little smile, as he gently released your wounded arm allowing him to extend his pinky finger on that hand towards you.

“Pinky promise,” you said, raising your hand up and linking your pinky finger with his.

Did the promise the two of you made make Caleb feel any less worried about you?

No.

He wanted to know how you even managed to get an injury like this in the first place…he had so many questions.

But they could wait until later; for now he just wanted to help you clean and rebandage the wound.

One this was for certain though, he was going to be checking up on you a lot more now; and if you were out on a mission, then he’d want to know where it was and who with.

Where, so that he could get to you easily if you needed him.

Who with, so that he knew who to hold accountable for allowing any type of injury to come to you.

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @solongluci @deathkat657 @book-dragon03 @fangirlsfandomsss @hao-ming-8 @worm-in-a-bug @babygirl-panda19 @popcorn-mochi01 @cheesemachine44 @thegalaxysedge22 @chubby-bun-bun @whimsiecat @callme-amaya @rivwritesiguess @lilyalone @sylus-crow @eternallyvenus @inlovewithsylus

#caleb x reader #caleb x you #love and deepspace caleb #lads x reader #lads imagine #lads imagines #lads caleb #caleb lads #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace #love and deepspace imagines #love and deepspace imagine #love and deepspace x reader #lnds caleb #lnds x reader #lnds x you

66 notes · View notes

toxicrelief · 1 day ago

Text

Crawling Back to You

Chapter fifteen

Synopsis: Rex doesn’t seem to mind your company much, and you don’t mind giving it, at first.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Chapter: 15/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW: None

Note: Reader is the festering final boss. I also realized I haven’t really been offering for people to join the taglist, so let me know if you want me to add you!

Rejection was starting to get easier. Maybe it was because you had real-world experience now that you didn’t have before. Or maybe it was because you had more important things to worry about than whether a patient was going to let you heal them or not.

“I did it!” You said, almost ecstatic. You panted out a few breaths, putting your hands on your knees to try to regain your loss of oxygen.

“Did you just run here?” Cecil said dryly, handing some kind of booklet to a worker standing nearby.

“Yes!” You straightened up, still not having caught your breath. “I did it!” You repeated again, giddiness overtaking your composure.

“Don’t waste my time, kid. Did what?”

You open your mouth to answer then realize it might not be the best idea to blurt this out with everyone else around. “Oh… uh… The thing-”

He blinked at you a few times before sighing and rolling his eyes. “Alright, everyone out.” Without missing a beat the different agents and workers around the room hastily made their exit. To hold that much respect, so much immediate power. You were almost jealous; you couldn’t seem to ever get anything done without everyone around you questioning you or being suspicious. “Now, what are you talking about?”

“Viltrumite blood.” Your excitement hadn’t ebbed. “I just tested it out in the room, it’s easy- like ridiculously easy-”

“Christ, have you slept at all?”

“Yes.” You tightened your brow a bit, feeling mildly offended. “Am I allowed to be excited about something we have been working on for months or-?”

He nodded quietly, taking in the information while putting a hand over his mouth in thought. “How do you know?”

“I-” You were starting to feel a little deflated. “Well, I mean I just said, I tested it out in the training room…on the blood bag?” You wrapped your arms around you in a defensive stance. “And I felt it, yesterday I saw Mark- or Invincible or whatever. We shook hands, and I felt it. It was like he was just another person, but still, I don’t know- different.”

“Different?”

You thought carefully for a moment. “I suppose you could think about it like getting water somewhere on a trip, or just in a new place in general. The water at home you are used to, it tastes like home and you’re comfortable drinking it. Then you go somewhere new, and in other places it can taste weird, or bad even, I guess. It tastes like water, you know it’s water. But you’d rather the stuff from home.”

Cecil hummed softly, still thinking. Although you doubted he ever stopped even when he was off duty. If he ever was. “Very good, Killdeer.”

“Yeah?” You felt your excitement return a little from the direct praise.

“Yes, this is good. I want you integrated back in with the Guardians.”

“Wait, what? Already?” Your grip around your arms loosened a little, this was not at all the direction you had expected this to go.

“Yes, already. We are down three Guardians.”

“Won’t there be some resistance?” You responded quietly.

“I have spoken with the Immortal and Robot. I explained that the fainting spells are from overexertion and they took it well enough. It should get them off your back, but honestly, I’m sure it’ll still be tense.” He shifts slightly as if he isn’t sure what to say next. “Donald told me about your discussion.”

You nodded, swallowing roughly at the mention of the topic you had been avoiding thinking about since your conversation with Donald. Maybe you should be angrier with Cecil, furious that he hid it from you. You had been unhappy at the idea of it, but after talking to Donald you had received almost a type of closure. Last night you hadn’t been plagued by your repetitive nightmare. It wasn’t gone, you knew you would be seeing that grotesque imagery for a long while still to come. But now, you knew what it was. Why it happened. A part of you still blamed yourself. You should have swept the perimeter, asked Cecil if there would likely be anyone else on the premises. At the end of the day though, it had happened. You didn’t have control over it, you weren’t even conscious while doing it. But it had still happened.

Cecil had done a lot for you, at least it felt that way. He found you and encouraged your abilities. He trained you, got you a specialized room in the training facility and in the hospital. You had grown fond of him. A small voice chirped in the back of your head, was it possible you were making excuses for him? Not properly holding him accountable for anything he has done?

As if you’re the one to be holding anyone accountable.

“I am glad to see you’re…shit, I don’t know, taking it well?” He was never amazing at being sentimental or comforting. He could do it, but it seemed like he only had it in limited quantities. Saving it for widows and orphans.

You gave him a tight smile. “I manage.” After a moment of loaded silence, you spoke up again. “When should I check in with the Guardians?”

“Soon. Within the next few days is preferred.”

“Where did you even find this?”

“Oh, don’t get started with me, I never buy this shit.” You dropped two magazines on his lap, you had seen it for free in a random kiosk while walking outside the hospital. It was about two times smaller than the magazines Eve had brought.

“You paid money for this?” He held them up, his mouth drawn together in an almost too-intentional frown. The way his lips were slightly quivering told you that he was struggling not to laugh.

“You gonna pay me back?” You asked, sitting at the end of his bed like you had the last visit.

He opens his mouth to respond with indignation, but his words are delayed slightly as he watches you. Maybe you should have just sat in the recliner rather than right against his leg. You hadn’t even considered he might not want you to. “Well…fuck, how much were these?”

“Twenty bucks.” You lied, a small smile spreading across your face as you looked down at the booklets you had given him. They were so obviously not worth that much that it tickled you.

“Twenty- what the fuck?” He itched the section of his head that was available to him outside of the helmet contraption. “You got scammed.”

“Not my problem, is it?” You held your hand out, knowing full well he most assuredly did not have his wallet anywhere nearby.

“Just add it to my tab.” He sighs, leaning back again in his bed.

You had seen him when you first arrived this morning. Tension filling your body as you peeked through the curtains. His whole demeanor had changed at the sight of you, that same shit-eating grin that you had seen the night before spreading across his face. If he was going to be nice you were not complaining. You even found him…enjoyable? Now that he wasn’t giving you that telltale look of disgust, and spitting accusations against you, you were actually getting to know him a little. So far the conversation had mostly revolved around furniture and home décor. But this morning he even talked a little about Mark. Which you listened to with bated breath.

“Are you even listening?”

You nodded a little too quickly, with a little too much enthusiasm.

“Aw shit. You’ve got some schoolgirl crush on him, don’t you?”

“Oh, brother.” You rolled your eyes. “Have you never had a favorite hero, Rex?”

“Yes, and you’re looking at him.” He had said, looking a little bitter for the rest of your visit.

Eventually, you left to go run rounds, but now you had come back. The doctor you had been working with had shooed you away after practically tripping over you for the fifth time. Why not see just how new and improved Rex seemed to be?

You pulled your phone out in an exaggerated manner, opening your notes.

Rex’s head snapped up to watch you. “You’re not.” He uttered in disbelief

“I am.” You said, your smile grew more by the second as you typed ‘Rex: $20’ and showed the screen to him.

“Ugh. More stingy than a hooker.”

“With much less of the fun.” You laughed, putting your phone away.

“Those didn’t even cost you twenty bucks, did they?” He gave you a nasty look, but it wasn’t the same as any he had given you before. This one didn’t have the load of intention behind it. He was enjoying your company, even with all your uncertainties you knew this for sure.

You simply shrugged at him, until he let it go scoffing to himself.

“Do you want me to…” You paused, knowing it was best not to get too comfortable. Against the warning buzzers going off in your head, you decided to offer it anyway. “Do you want me to help you at all?” It was vague, you knew it was. But you also knew he would understand what you were implying.

He blinked at you, his residual smile fading slightly. “Well…”

“It’s fine really, don’t feel bad for saying no. If you ever feel bad for anything-” Fuck.

“What?” He brow drew together slightly but he didn’t say anything else, waiting for you to clarify.

“Sorry, that was- really rude, actually, shit.” Yeah, you were not making this any better. “This is just a little jarring for me.” You held your hand out at him.

“Did you just gesture to all of me?”

“Yes?” You winced, a shade of embarrassment dusting your cheeks.

He sighed, but his disposition towards you didn’t close. “I guess that makes sense.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He almost snapped, a semblance of the Rex you had known poking through. “Sorry.” He said without wasting a single breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

So, it was a conscious choice. He was choosing to be nicer. The realization of this overtook any hurt your ego might have obtained from his retort. Was this his way of apologizing for being a dirtbag to you for so long? Rather than saying it directly he just intended to pretend it never happened? You weren’t sure how the prospect of this sat with you.

“Almost broke your cover there.” You said softly, hoping your response would be well received rather than egging him on further.

He was still pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed. But his lips perked up in an unmissable smile.

You felt a little more comfortable after seeing that, so you poked his leg to get his attention. His eyes opened, his gaze landing where your hand had touched then slowly traveled up to your face.

“So, what about it?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes drilled into you until you felt the need to look away. That unfamiliar feeling from yesterday returned briefly.

“Fine.” He rasped out with feigned reluctance. “But you’re not going to accidentally fuse this thing to my head, are you? ‘Cause I’ve already got accelerated healing and shit; I don’t have to risk it.” He pointed up to the metal contraption with his metal-enclosed stub.

You pretend to consider the possibility, then shrug. “I actually don’t know.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Who said I was trying to make you feel better?” You met his eyes again as you chuckled. For that moment you wondered if he was remembering the first time you had almost this exact same interaction. Back in his room after you had accidentally injured him. That felt like a lifetime ago now.

“Fine, let’s get it over with, Nurse Joy.” He sat up, shaking his hand out a few times before holding it out to you.

“Okay, what is that all about?”

“You don’t know who Nurse Joy is?” He looked genuinely surprised.

“Should I?”

“Did you even have a childhood?”

You just gave him an incredulous look.

“Ugh.” He pulled his hand back as you stood up to move to the recliner. Since it had wheels it was much easier to pull up to the bedside and comfortably sit next to him rather than pulling him towards the other end of the bed. “Pokémon?”

“Pokémon?” You repeated, he had to be joking.

“Yeah, fucking Pokémon, get over it.” He grumbled quietly.

“The kid’s show?”

“As I said, did you even have a childhood?”

You laughed, he seemed surprisingly embarrassed for having been the one to give you the nickname in the first place.

“I watched some SpongeBob.” You said intentionally, knowing it would irritate him. Whether it was true or not was another story. For you to know, not for him.

“Figures.” He gives you a sideways glance which you pointedly ignore. You hold out your hand, waiting for him to willingly give you his forearm, after a second’s hesitation he gives it to you. He feels warm, you’re almost concerned he has a fever, but from how lucid he is you doubt it. You brush your thumb lightly over his skin as your fingers grasp the underside of his forearm. You could swear you felt him jerk slightly. It was possible your hands were cold to him. If he felt this warm to you, they had to be.

“You good?” Rex hadn’t breathed in since you grabbed his arm. “I know it feels uncomfortable at first, but are you really not used to it yet?”

“Are you seriously asking me if I am used to feeling my skin stitch together on its own?” You nodded curtly. “Jesus Christ.” He sat back against his bed as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

You snickered before closing your eyes to concentrate.

“You’re back?” Bulletproof froze at the door of the training room just as he was about to enter.

You glanced back at him, internally sighing. “Yep. Surprise!”

He nodded before continuing into the room, taking residence at a machine next to you. “You enjoy your break?”

You tried and failed to hold back a scoff. “Break? What break?”

He lifted several plates onto the metal bar before settling his back against the bench. “About the best you’re going to get around here.”

“How was the whole mars thing?” Small talk didn’t bother you much, it was better than tense silence. And at least he was being amicable.

“Shitty. After all of that, I’m surprised Shapesmith is staying on the team, but I ain’t leading it so-”

The conversation lulled briefly. Shapesmith was not someone you harbored poor feelings for, but it would be a lie to say you weren’t at least mildly bitter that everything came so easy to the guy. Even worse, you didn’t think he even realized just how easy he was having it.

With everything that had been happening, and all of it happening so quickly you hadn’t sat and thought about how miserable you had been. Shit, it was hard to imagine that at one point you had been attending missions with the Guardians without resistance. You were been going on missions solo too, with zero failures so far. Well…one failure. They didn’t even know about that and still, you never felt welcome. Rae was lovely, Bulletproof was cordial. Shapesmith did whatever he does, and Amanda didn’t seem to mind you. But the people who disliked you made it known, more than the people who liked you or felt neutral did.

Immortal demanding your submission hadn’t only occurred the one time. Every mission you had with him felt like a humiliation ritual. He would pause briefings to call you out specifically, asking you to repeat what he had just said. Like a fucking schoolteacher. Kate would either glance at you out of the corner of her eye, or she’d snicker quietly. Rudy let you be, but even he would question you in briefings, asking you what exactly you were planning to do. It made sense at first, to them you were just a healer. They have no clue what else you were capable of. Even still, they knew you had enhanced strength and durability as much as the next person. The first few missions should have been proof enough.

You felt yourself starting to get worked up at the unpleasant memories. Black Sampson, although he never paid you much mind, had taken it upon himself to scold you after a stakeout. Cecil and Donald lied to you to your face. And Rex… God, Rex took up enough space in your subconscious to write a fucking book. And now he got to act a little nice and it was like it never even happened? You had played into it, been glad for the lack of hostility after so long with it. Now as you were letting it fully sink in though, you realized that you needed something. You need an apology. Even if you felt that you were responsible for what happened to him and Rae, it didn’t erase everything he had done.

Still stewing in your own corner of regrets and grudges a voice sounded off that drew you out of it. At least, for the time being.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back.”

You gave Bulletproof a genuine smile. “Me too.”

You had been avoiding his room all day. It was like there was a detector in your head that sent off sirens every time you neared it. You thought sleeping on it would make it easier to manage but you had simply just festered. Rex was getting better. Today they were removing the headgear after you had rendered it useless with one session. As much as you hate to admit it, your return to hospital work has had extreme benefits. All of the work you did on Rex hadn’t even left you with a residual twinge. In the moment it hurt a little, but the second you removed your hand, it was over.

‘You don’t deserve to be in the Guardians’ How many times had he used that stale line with you? You weren’t worth it.

When a break finally made its way into your schedule you decided to sit in Rae’s room. Picking at something you put together haphazardly at the cafeteria earlier. “He’s so annoying.” You continued a small rant you had started up; every added sentiment just fueled the fire. Rae was not conscious to hear any of your ramblings. However, once she finally woke up you were sure she would be happy for that.

You dropped your food back onto your tray. “Do I even have the right to still be mad?” You looked her over with a sigh, before pulling her blanket up a bit higher. She was no longer in the incubator. After a brief discussion with her doctor, he told you that she was healing at a quick rate, her body was just keeping her in a comma-like state until she was healed up better. For a moment, you considered it, it would be so easy to reach forward and press your fingertips to her arm, speed it up. Cecil had told you specifically not to accelerate her healing. He probably had his reasons, not that he ever told you them.

“I miss you.” You said it softly, a whisper. “I’m sorry I didn’t go with Rex. I don’t know if I could have stopped this, but I wish I had been able to try.” Her face showed no signs of change. The beeping on the monitor remains the same. What else had you expected?

“Sorry, I thought I heard your voice in here.” A nurse poked her head through the door, you had seen her a lot over the several days you’d been spending almost all your time at the hospital. Her name was…Stephanie? Or Stacy? Hannah?

“Yep, I’m here. Do you need me?”

“Oh, it’s no rush, Rex was just asking about you.”

“Oh, really?” You scoffed, looking back at Rae as if she could see the irony of the situation.

“…yep.” She thought you were quite odd.

“I’ll check on him in a bit, thank you.” You sighed the moment the nurse left, leaning further back into the recliner as if you could shrink out of existence. Eventually, you had to face him, you were just wasting time. “Don’t go anywhere, yeah?” Again, no response. “Tough crowd.” Hopefully, if she had been conscious, she would laugh at that rather than leave you in the awkward silence you had made for yourself.

The short walk to Rex’s room felt even shorter today, as you stood outside of it you wondered what you would say. Would you play nice? That is what you seemed to do best. You’d done it this far at least. Confrontation scared you. Eventually he would leave this room and the two of you would be on the same team again. Then again, the chance of things being awkward never had deterred him before. If it had, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

“Hello, Rex-” You started as you walked in, but you stopped as soon as you saw him. He was asleep. A hand still gripped around one of the pathetic magazines you had gotten for him. You had never seen him look so relaxed, almost peaceful.

God, you were becoming soft, you should wake him up and demand an apology, something. But you didn’t. You stepped past the curtain, took the magazine out of his hand, and placed it quietly on the pile. The hospital blankets always felt scratchy to you, maybe you should offer to bring his duvet from his room at the Headquarters. You straighten it out gently, your hand brushing over his in the gesture.

If the circumstances had been different, you wonder if the two of you could have ever been friends.

Groundhog Day. That’s a movie, right? The one where Bill Murray lives the same day over and over until he learns to fall in love or something like that. It’d been a while since you saw it, but it didn’t seem to matter. As far as you knew you were living it. Wake up, hospital, Guardians, hospital, Rae, apartment, sleep. Over and over. You had stopped by Rex’s room a few times since the last time, but it was oddly quiet, he would just read or asked you about your day. It wasn’t unpleasant, but you were positive he could sense your shift in demeanor. Maybe he was worried that if he talked too much you would remember that you were upset with him. Rae still wasn’t awake yet, but the doctor assured you it would be any day now.

“Check this shit out.” Rex flexed his left hand for you to admire.

“Oh, wow.” It was like a toddler showing you a bark chip at the park that was bigger than the rest.

“Oh, come on, you don’t think it’s at least a little cool?”

“It’s cool, Rex. But I can’t credit you for any of that, you literally had no hand in making it or installing it or-”

“Did you just make a pun?”

“Have you ever looked into getting diagnosed with ADHD or, I don’t know, literally anything that is wrong with you?”

He laughed, rubbing his new hand absentmindedly. “What’s got you so pissed off, hm?”

“Should I go grab a mirror?” You said it like it was a joke, but honestly, you weren’t sure why you were feeling so sour. You were suspicious it was probably because of the Groundhog Day thing though.

He’s quiet for a beat, looking down at his hand as if waiting for it to move on his own. “Fuck, I’m- well, you know.” He gestured at you helplessly.

“What?” You laugh, confusion clear in your inflection.

“You know.” He reiterates, his mouth opening and closing while he tries to formulate the words.

“I’m not good at riddles.” You raise an eyebrow at him, squinting slightly.

“Christ, well you know-”

“You already said that.”

“Hold on!” He would have been wringing his hands through his hair if it wasn’t about two centimeters long. “Well, I’m sorry.”

You sat for a second waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t. “Oh, that’s it? That’s all you were trying to say?”

“Baby steps, okay?” He puts his hands over his face like he’s being physically pained.

“…Okay?” Should you push him to see what exactly he was sorry for? Or just hope he meant for everything and let it go?

“I was an ass.”

“Was is a loose term-”

“Okay, first of all, can you let me get this out or are you just going to keep interjecting?”

You tilted your head to each side as if deciding, but you didn’t say anything else.

“I was an ass, and I still am.” He glanced over at you. “But I was really fucking shitty to you. And maybe it took a bullet to the head to fully see it, which is not amazing.”

You hummed in agreement, which earned you a scathing look.

“But either way, I regret it. You have always…carried your weight with the team. I just don’t like new things.” Once again you think he’s going to continue but he doesn’t.

“Oh, uh-” He’s almost wincing waiting for your response. “You don’t do this a lot do you?”

“Are you telling me I’m bad at apologizing?”

“I’d never dream of it.” You rolled your eyes, but you gave him a subtle smile. “I appreciate it.”

He nods at you, the edges of his mouth downturned trying to hide his own grin.

“Let me see.” You hold your hand out, gesturing for him to let you see his new hand.

“Hm?” He doesn’t move, holding his hand in the other direction further away from you.

“God, what do you think I’m going to do? Rip it off? Let me see. You were the one talking all high and mighty about it.”

“Be careful.” He apprehensively holds it out to you.

“Are you kidding me?” You blink a few times at him.

“I don’t know!” He says defensively. “It’s all new to me too.”

You shake your head at him, taking your nondominant hand and placing it under his wrist, then you use your dominant hand to trace lines over the faux skin. “It feels real, did they tell you what it’s made of?”

Rex didn’t respond with haste, his eyes focused on your hands. “Uh, I think they said something but I kind of wasn’t listening.”

“I don’t know what else I expected.” You sighed, placing your palm against his knuckles. You couldn’t feel…anything. Whatever this was there was no blood in it. It was entirely mechanical. “It feels so real.” You murmured softly, more to yourself than to Rex. “Lemme see the other one.” He held out his other hand without hesitation, flexing it slightly before you touched it. Now you had a hand on either of his. It was interesting, how much you could feel in his right versus his left. You were so focused on it that you got carried away for a moment, your fingers brushing lightly over his real hand.

“Does it feel the same?” Your voice came out in a hushed whisper, you were trailing your index fingers over the two separate hands. After a pause you looked up at Rex, who looked down at his hands as soon as you made eye contact.

“Uh…Yeah pretty- I’d say pretty similar.” He swallowed roughly.

You should let go, this was going on for longer than it should, you were going to make him uncomfortable. His hands were soft though, and when you brushed your touch over his knuckles on either hand, he flexed them, as if it was a reflex. It fascinated you. But it did something else too, it brought back that feeling. The one you’d been ignoring. You liked that the smallest touch caused his body to react in some way. In any way. You would have to put that away to think about later.

“Hello!” A chipper voice forced its way through your thoughts. Causing you to immediately draw back your hands from Rex. Shit, now it looked even worse because you had jumped so hard. The heat that was quickly manifesting on your face probably was also not doing you any extra favors.

“Hey, Eve.” Rex straightened up, clenching his fists against the hospital bed. “You bring any more magazines?”

“I don’t know how often you think that they release more of those, but it is not that often.” She sits down at the end of his bed, her gaze landing on you. “Hello again.”

“Hi.” You responded. You needed out. NOW.

“We didn’t get to properly meet, my name’s Eve, or, well it’s Samantha but everyone calls me Eve.”

You say your name in return, giving a mildly awkward nod of your head. God you were making it worse.

“I thought your name was Joy?” Eve gives Rex a quizzical look, and he doesn’t return it, suddenly very interested in the seam of his shirt.

“So, how did you and Rex meet?” You really didn’t want to open that can of worms again.

“We were on the Teen Team together. That was a lifetime ago though.” She smiled at him.

Now, you had no reason to feel at all jealous. You didn’t even like Rex. Eve seemed really nice, and you were actually interested in learning more about her. But something about the way she sat down without hesitation, and the smiles she kept giving him were making you feel mildly queasy. You should really get more sleep. “The Teen Team?”

“You never heard of the Teen Team?” Rex spoke this time, surprise clear in his voice.

“I don’t really keep up with…well anything I guess.” You shrugged, you hadn’t really cared to keep posted until the Guardians were massacred.

“They were the best team ever!” Rex exclaimed loudly.

“No, they weren’t.” Eve rolled her eyes. “We weren’t even the number one teenager-centric team.”

“In my eyes we were.” He held his hands to his chest, fingers intertwined, as if reminiscing.

“Who else was on it?” You asked, gazing jumping between the two of them.

“It was me, Rex, Kate, and Robot.” Eve answered.

“Just the four of you?”

“Hey, that’s all we needed!”

You sat for a few more minutes listening to them reminisce. After one particular story about Rex staying at her house for a year straight you realized where you had recognized her. She had been in one of the pictures on his wall in his room. You weren’t sure exactly what their history was but, you were glad he was able to keep one friend off the team. It still made you feel oddly upset, but you were determined to be mature. There was genuinely no reason for you to feel like this anyway. It was stupid.

“Well, this has been lovely, truly, but I should really-”

“You should stay.” You glanced to the side to see Rex staring at you. His brow was creased slightly, his eyes slightly unsure. You wished he wouldn’t look at you like that.

“I’m sorry-” You were interrupted by a doctor peeking into the room.

“She’s awake.” Is all he said before passing on by.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. But it was so nice learning more about you, Eve.” You stood up.

“Likewise.” She smiled back.

You turned to Rex, who was still staring at you. As you made eye contact his jaw clenched. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here.”

You wanted to hug her, but you didn’t. Instead, you walked in and stood awkwardly by the curtain as a doctor and nurse duo filled her in on what had happened. She glanced over at you a few times, but in all mostly paid attention to the two who were talking. While you waited, your mind drifted back to Rex, replaying the feel of his hand against yours. Entirely normal and definitely not indicative of anything else.

“We’ll be in first thing tomorrow morning to run some tests, m’kay?” The doctor said to Rae, which she nodded back politely to. “She’s been in here almost every day to share lunch with you. Hell of a friend.” The doctor pointed at you. You could curl up and die.

Rae’s attention focused on you as the two of them left. “Every day, huh?”

“I think they overdramatized it a day or two.” You gave her a smile.

“Did you at least save me some chips?”

“I tried, but you never seemed to want to take them from my hand.”

Rae gave a soft chuckle, wincing after the exertion.

“Can I help?” You plopped down in the recliner, wheeling it over to the bed.

Rae laughed again, holding her hands out to stop you as you eagerly moved forward. “Hold on, let me catch my breath.”

“Sorry.” You responded quickly.

“Don’t be.” She laid back, closing her eyes for a short period before opening them again. “I appreciate the offer, but I must decline.”

You open your mouth to argue. You wanted to help her, needed to.

“It has nothing to do with you.” She says before you can interject. “I don’t want to be healed yet.”

“What? Why?” You tried not to sound like you thought she was crazy.

“I need to remember this. Remember all I have had to go through as a hero, as a Guardian. Whatever.”

You nodded even though you didn’t really understand.

“It’s exhausting, isn’t it? You win one battle, but eventually, you will lose the next. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But it’ll happen. There’s no other way for this all to end.”

You blinked a few times. “It is exhausting. But doesn’t it help to know you’re making a difference?”

“What difference?” Rae’s voice still came out soft even though her words carried bite. “I have been in this business a long time and I don’t think I have ever seen it.”

“The Headquarters is too high up. Too far.” You start, leaning forward on your knees. “I have been in this hospital for months on and off, and more recently I have been here all day every day. I can see the difference in every single patient who tells me about how a superhero saved them. It can feel like every day is exactly the same, but to them-” You gesture to the rest of the hospital. “It means everything.”

Rae nods, but she still looks exhausted.

“You don’t have to continue, Rae. You can quit.”

“Like you did?” She gives you a cheeky grin, obviously having been waiting to say something to this point.

“Well…” You sucked on your teeth trying to bide your time. “Quit is such a strong word, isn’t it?”

“I knew it!” She said triumphantly. “I told Rex that you’d be back.”

“Ugh, I’m so glad you both were so worried.” You rubbed your face tiredly.

“I wasn’t worried, I knew you’d be back. You wouldn’t leave me.” Her eyes shined. “Misses-spends-every-lunch-in-my-room-while-I’m-in-a-comma.”

“Is that going to become a whole thing now?”

“Only until I forget.” She pokes you. “How is Rex doing by the way?”

“Rex?” You pretended to have to think about it. “Yeah, I think I heard he’s doing okay.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“He’s good. I swear.” You laugh. “He seems to be trying to turn a new leaf.”

“Well, that’s good.” She smirked before opening her mouth, ��Must have found someone worth being better for.”

“Oh my god, Rae are you still on about this?”

“He asked me for your number and address so he could apologize, there’s no way that means nothing!”

“It could mean nothing!” You respond with a layer of exasperation.

“Sure.” She lengthens the word as long as she can in a tease. You chuckle in response, covering your face with both hands.

“You could always stay with me you know.” You say it after she has gotten the teasing out of her system. “If you need a break from the Guardian’s. I have a spare room.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She reaches out, placing a hand on yours. “Thank you.”

You stood in a breakroom area at the hospital, taking a quick break between patients. A soft click told you that someone had entered the room with you. One glance back revealed that it was Rex, freshly healed up, flexing his new hand in front of his face. He looked good, healthy. He wasn’t wearing the hospital garbs anymore, they had been replaced by street clothes. You didn’t pay much attention to them though; your eyes were drawn immediately to Rex himself. He had his hair tied up again in the trademark look you had become accustomed to.

“Wow, you healed quickly.” You titled your head at him, hoping your voice reflected that you were happy for him, rather than sounding condescending.

“I told you, accelerated healing.” He rolled his shoulders, taking a few steps forward.

“Even still.” You closed the distance, looking him over. Accelerated healing sure, but accelerated hair growth? That really did shock you. “Well, you look good.” It slipped out, instantly making you press your eyes closed. Embarrassment hot against your face.

“Do I?” He cocked his head to the side with a smug smile.

“Don’t push it, hotshot.” Hotshot? God, when did you get so overconfident?

He stepped closer, you had to crane your neck slightly to continue looking at his face. He was standing awfully close, but you didn’t back away. Why did you never back away?

“Why do you keep visiting me? Hm?” His voice comes out in a hushed tone, ghosting over you.

“It’s good for comradery, in the team.” You stammer out, your eyes drifting down to his lips as he speaks.

“Bullshit. Maybe that first visit was just for that, but you kept coming back. You could have just come the once. But you didn’t.”

You swallowed dryly, he was leaning in slightly at this, his sage eyes searching over your face. “I needed to make sure I didn’t make a mistake. I- I mended your bullet wound.” You admitted it quietly as if you were scared for him to know. “I wanted to be sure I didn’t actually cause lasting damage.”

He sighed and stepped away from you, running a hand through his hair up to the elastic before dropping his hand to his side. “I wouldn’t have even been here if you had just come with me.”

Silence enveloped both of you. You knew that he was right, but you also hadn’t expected him to voice your exact thoughts after whatever was just happening. “I…I know.” You whispered.

“But you can make up for it, can’t you?” You looked up, feeling mildly confused, just in time to see him cross the distance he had walked away back to you. “Make it up to me.” In what felt like a millisecond his mouth was on yours. His hand travels up the back of your neck into your hair. He felt greedy, his hand closing tightly over as large of a cluster as he could grasp. He deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping over your lips to gain entry-

You snapped your eyes open, quickly adjusting to the dark. Soft rays from the streetlights far below sifted in over your curtains leaving a soft yellow glow on your ceiling. Your breath was coming out in swift heaves. It felt uncomfortably hot in your room, so you threw off your duvet, still panting in an attempt to regain your lost breath. You could still feel his hands in your hair.

Shit.

Author's Note: Guys be honest am I moving too fast? Like I know were almost at 70k words but it’s finally starting to be less one sided and I feel like I’m waterboarding you guys. Also hopefully you guys have seen or heard of groundhog day or I just mischaracterized you so bad 💔

divider credit: @/ saradika

taglist: @kittymeowmrow @sketchlove @jewelwayne101 @0ut0fsweets @sugaramped request to be tagged for new parts!

#rex splode x reader #enemies to lovers #slow burn #rex sloan #invincible #invincible season 3 #rex splode #invincible rex splode #rex sloan x reader #no beta we die like rex splode apparently #invincible fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #crawling back to you rexfic

66 notes · View notes