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khaoala · 2 days ago

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Hi, sorry for making my problem your problem, but I'm feeling a little low for a variety of reasons, including the fact that, despite my best blocking skills, I still haven't been able to fully avoid the ppl throwing shade at KB/FK's impact (or lack thereof according to them) in THK (seriously, feels like I'm unwillingly stuck in an endless game of whac-a-mole just with bad takes/poor fandom etiquette!). So I thought I'd try and take my mind off it by sending you an extremely self-indulgent ask! As an FK fan extraordinaire (and one of my fave giffers btw), what are your:

favourite scenes from each of their shows?

favourite FK moments from real life?

hopes and dreams for THK finale?

hopes and dreams for the Holy Grail of FK shows? E.g. ideal plot or genre, relationship dynamic, supporting cast, director, etc.

And now for the harder questions! Your mission, should you choose to accept, is to convert an unbeliever into an FK stan (of them as both separate actors and as a pairing). You can only pick ONE scene from their entire repertoire for each category. Go!

best acting from First

best acting from Khao

best acting from FK as a pairing

best demonstration of FK's chemistry

best kiss (aesthetics+characterisation+emotion+context+whatever other criteria you choose!)

I eagerly await your answers! (but obvs you're under no obligation to respond - tbh, even just forming the ask has helped lighten my mood! Feel free to ignore or to throw it over to someone else if you'd rather, or even if there's anyone else you think would be interested in contributing - I just enjoy hearing other ppl's 'FK as Acteurs' highlights! Someone gushing about my faves = instant serotonin boost!)

In return (and as tribute to your new handle), I offer you this, imo, grossly overlooked example of Khao pulling his signature Khaoala move: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/GhSzVQvX0AAm7mh?format=jpg&name=900x900 ...😉

i'm sorry about that, anon. curating your online bubble can be a lot of work and it's not always 100% and i'm sorry you're getting stressed bc of that. i'm not sure if you're going to the tags on either twitter or tumblr, but i'd recommend you stay away of those. twitter is a bit more difficult, but once you get your little bubble things get better but for tumblr, if you're just looking for pretty edits like the ones fandom provides, i'd recommend checking only the thkedit tag. it's a lot better than dealing with the trolls with poor fandom etiquette. i hope you find a space you feel more comfortable and welcomed, anon, i know i say this often, but fandom spaces are supposed to give you relief and not headaches.

you didn't even ask for advice and i'm already rambling, i'm so sorry, but to your questions which were such a delight to receive (you have no idea how happy i felt for being called a fk fan extraordinaire and to know i'm one of your favorite giffers. i love to know people like the things i do, it does wonders to my self-esteem).

ATTENTION!

this is a nearly 2000 word-vomit reply where i talk in length about my favorite topic of the last couple of years, firstkhaotung. i'm sorry for not being able to be concise. pls have the picture the anon sent as their favorite khaoala moment which i must agree, is extremely underrated, as a form of apology.

1.favourite scenes from each of their shows? (i'll just pick the ones they were paired together bc you know, there's a lot)

the eclipse - akkayan's first kiss in akk's room. that scene is so important to them, and also to me. the way ayan was so careful with akk, he took his time, gave akk room to assess the situation, back away if he wanted to. how softly he spoke to akk and how scared akk was of all of that. that scene was beautiful beautiful beautiful and so well acted, too.

moonlight chicken - listen, i know they only have three scenes, but they are all very important to me, alright? with that being said, the scene in alan's office. alan is smiling like gaipa hung the stars in the sky with his bare hands and it's full sunshine mode, and first's smile is so beautiful, and he's flirty, gaipa is oblivious, it's just so sweet. they are healing and that's amazing.

only friends - the fight in sand's apartment. though the therapy scene is just as amazing, i feel like the apartment fight has so much impact. the way sand was collected the whole time and only allowed himself to break down once ray was out of earshot. and how ray was so distraught by the idea of the one person he thought he could trust betraying him, it was awful. it makes me teary to this day.

the heart killers - the scene at the beach in ep. 8. thank you first for adding a whole monologue to this scene. i can totally understand why that's his favorite. the tiredness, the desolation, they are both so exhausted and bison doesn't want to fight anymore and he's angry, but he loves kant, and kant doesn't want to lie to bison and wants him to know that. it's beautifully acted. i stayed on that scene for days. it made my heart hurt so good.

2. favourite FK moments from real life?

i have too many that i suddenly forgot as soon as i read this question, so at some point i might even add to this when i remember. but the one i can think about right now was when they were on arm's share for first's birthday and khaotung's wish for first in the upcoming year was: "as you grow, you might find more people, but if you do, let them go, stay only with me instead."

3. hopes and dreams for THK finale?

i do hope for a wedding. i didn't want a double wedding bc i find them so tacky, but with the recent talks with fadelstyle + style's dad, that might be where they are going IF they are even going to have one. as you might have noticed, i'm not stressed about the finale. i think they'll have time enough to access the most urgent matters (gay sex in prison) and with fadelbison spending their time locked up, they'll have all the room to live normal lives like they wished. bison talked about assassins not being able to have a home, family and a lover so i hope they get all of that and more.

4. hopes and dreams for the Holy Grail of FK shows? E.g. ideal plot or genre, relationship dynamic, supporting cast, director, etc.

oh man, i'd love for them to work with the women in gmm, first of all. and i know i had a talk about gl people hating men (with reason in some cases) but gmm loves to experiment with them, so pls let them act with namtanfilm (these four in a show would make my brain stupid happy). sarah pitched an idea that was very similar to the one i had in my head, though hers have first and film as siblings, but the premise would be the same. one trying to help the other approach their crushes. it's silly, slice of life, light comedy stuff which i know they can pull off just as well as the heavy drama stuff.

i'd also love to see them in a show a la sammon with the thriller and investigation vibes. but i'm no fanfic writer and i'm happy with most plots i'm given and if it's them, i know it'll be well-acted.

as for directors, p'aof is the pick for most bl stans, and i agree, i hope they get the chance to work with him again, and have fk as the mains this time. i'd love to see them work with p'nuchy as well, from not me, or the director of be my favorite and who's going to direct joongdunk's and skynani's shows this year. he's amazing, i loved what he did with be my favorite, and while i'm not sure if i'll tune in for either of these new shows, i know he'll do great.

(i love that you deemed this first questions as easy and these one as harder, because let me tell you, i had a hard time with both sets!

1.best acting from First

i can only talk about what i've seen, and despite hearing all the praises for his portrayal of a girl stuck in boy's body in the shipper, i didn't have the guts to watch it yet. i was debating between the "break-up" scene in front of yolo and this one, but i need to praise first as akk. while gmm was going their reprise of the eclipse last year, i took that chance to rewatch the show as well, and i can't believe first didn't get a nomination for his portrayal of akk. he's spectacular in his scenes as this hard-working, perfectionist, in-the-closet, slightly homicidal and self-destructive student prefect. the one scene that makes me stop for like five minutes every time is the one where thua exposes him as the curse and he cries in the stairs. and i know there are people who aren't fan of scenes that are heavy on the dramatics, but that scene alone is so sad and first manages to express that masterfully bc it's terrifying yes, but it also feels cathartic in a way bc there's no weight of that lie on him anymore, so he cries ans sobs and leans on aye for support. idk, it just stuck with me for such a long time.

2. best acting from Khao

ray was khao's best performance in my opinion, and while i agree with everyone who mentions his therapist scene (which was a masterpiece honestly, no one and i mean no one would be able to deliver that one other than him the way he did), i'll go with mew's birthday party. i remember watching the bts of that scene and force was speechless and said that was his favorite scene they had shot until then, and man, there's a reason for that. he ate that up! the pure anger and control of the scene he had. the room was full of people but everyone's eyes were on him, and ray was terrifying in that one. that's what i mean when i say khaotung might be shorter than most of his co-stars but he knows when to use his presence to appear actually menacing. ray on mew's birthday party was scary.

3. best acting from FK as a pairing

you said i have to convince a non believer to stan fk, so i'll use the scene where they reconcile in only friends, ep. 10, if i'm not mistaken bc when you have a scene that was a page or two long, and direction shortened shortened shortened it until it was only an "i'm sorry" and they acted so well that it was convincing enough to make you, the audience, fully believe in the sincerity of the apology and the love and regret that laced their hug, that's a skill. they acted their asses off in that scene and the only line of dialogue was an apology.

4. best demonstration of FK's chemistry

okay so for this one, i'll say every time they showed casual intimacy. i feel like it's so easy for them to ignore casual intimacy in shows, but especially as kantbison, fk showed so much of their chemistry in the little touches. they are a very physical couple and they are comfortable being in each other's embrace and it's beautiful to see that being portrayed. holding hands, worshiping each other's bodies, sniffing their hair, kissing their knuckles, just feeling each other close, that's when you felt they are actually each other's person, they are actually so into each other that even crawling under each other's skin wouldn't be enough.

5. best kiss (aesthetics + characterisation + emotion + context + whatever other criteria you choose!)

most beautiful kiss i always think about the smoke kiss in only friends just because the aesthetic of it was amazing. the build up to it was amazing, and hot and heavy with tension and it was so delicious. i scream every time they kiss for the first time in shows, but the smoke kiss left me with my jaw in the ground for several minutes.

alternatively, in thk, the beach kiss for how meaningful it was since it was their first kiss with no lies between them, and the swing kiss that was perfect, they were so into that kiss and it felt so earned, too. fk really knows how to kiss.

also, akkayan's bridge kiss in our skyy 2, never forget that kiss. they were into it and delivering like no one else. absolutely gorgeous.

and let's remember all the pecks, too, because i have a soft spot for all of them. kantbison, yet again, carrying it in the pecks department (did you guys notice that kantbison kissed every ep? it was amazing to see).

and i think this is it? i finally managed to answer everything. ngl, i answered your ask first before a couple others that are sitting on my inbox bc i feel you needed the pick me up and i love talking about firstkhao. this was very fun. thank you for sending me this, and i hope you feel better.

#bibs ask #Anonymous #bibi shut up challenge #failed #but this was incredibly fun ngl i enjoy talking about them way too much #firstkhao #firstkhaotung #first kanaphan #khaotung thanawat

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w1w2 · 7 hours ago

Text

Drinks or Coffee

Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 9k

Req by Anon

Notes: It's rushed af, and I'm not proud of it, BUT I couldn't do anything better with the time I had.. SORRY HBD to my number one girl 🫶🏻

Rosé - drinks or coffee "We're just friends, it's okay Kinda weird how my night changed"

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The party was nothing but noise and flashing lights. A swirl of expensive perfume, designer outfits, and clinking glasses filled the air, creating an atmosphere that was both dazzling and exhausting. Conversations overlapped, a constant murmur of pleasantries, forced laughter, and industry talk that held no real weight. Music pulsed through the venue, too loud to ignore but not quite loud enough to drown out the superficial exchanges happening around her.

Y/N shifted her weight from one foot to the other, balancing a half-empty glass of champagne between her fingers, pretending to be engaged in the conversation happening in front of her. A senior executive was speaking, something about an upcoming collaboration, or maybe a tour, but Y/N wasn’t really listening. She had perfected the art of nodding at the right moments, offering small smiles, and laughing politely even when she didn’t fully register the joke.

It wasn’t that she hated these events. She understood their importance, knew they were a necessary part of the industry, but tonight felt particularly draining. There was nothing here for her, no real excitement, no real connection. Just people trying to impress other people.

Her gaze flickered toward the exit. If she left now, she doubted anyone would notice. She could slip away, maybe go home and curl up with a book, or even just sit in the quiet of her dorm, free from the noise. It wasn’t like she was adding anything to the energy of the room.

She sighed, fingers tightening around the stem of her glass. “One more hour,” she told herself. Just one more.

And then—

A laugh. Warm. Familiar. Effortless.

It cut through the noise like a melody she had memorized by heart.

Y/N’s body reacted before her mind even processed it. Her head turned instinctively, eyes scanning the crowd, drawn toward the sound as if it had called her by name.

And then, there she was.

Rosé.

Standing beneath the golden glow of the chandeliers, her head tilted back in laughter, eyes crinkling at something Jennie had just said. She was radiant in a way that made the rest of the room fade into the background. Y/N barely noticed the people around her anymore. It was just Rosé, effortlessly captivating, pulling her attention without even trying.

"Standing in the corner of a crowded place, this is boring 'til I heard your name."

Y/N exhaled, the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding slipping past her lips.

The party no longer felt so unbearable.

Rosé stood across the room, deep in conversation with Jennie, her expression alight with amusement. The golden glow of the chandeliers softened her features, casting a delicate shimmer along her cheekbones. Even in the dim, ambient lighting of the venue, she seemed to glow, as if the world had conspired to make her the brightest thing in the room.

Her hair cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders, framing her face in a way that made her look effortlessly elegant. A few strands had slipped out of place, yet instead of looking messy, they only added to her charm. She was dressed in something sleek and understated, nothing overly extravagant, but still stunning in the way it fit her, hugging her form in all the right ways. The fabric caught the light with every small movement, making it impossible not to notice her.

She wasn’t even trying.

She wasn’t standing under a spotlight, wasn’t performing, wasn’t singing with that breathtaking voice of hers. She was just… being herself. Laughing at something Jennie had said, head tilted back slightly, her eyes crinkling in delight.

And yet, Y/N couldn’t look away.

For a moment, she felt ridiculous. She had known Rosé for years. They had spent so many hours together, backstage at award shows, waiting in green rooms, sharing snacks in the hotel after long schedules. They had been each other’s company on quiet nights, texting about everything and nothing until one of them inevitably fell asleep mid-conversation.

Rosé had always been beautiful. That wasn’t new.

So why did it feel like Y/N was seeing her for the first time?

"Is it just me startin’ to see you in a different light?"

Y/N swallowed, a strange warmth creeping up her neck. She blinked, willing the thought away.

And then, as if drawn by some invisible thread, Rosé’s gaze drifted through the sea of people and landed on her.

For a second, Y/N forgot how to breathe.

There was something in Rosé’s eyes, surprise, maybe or something quieter, something unspoken. The conversation she had been having with Jennie momentarily faded into the background. Y/N swore she saw the tiniest flicker of hesitation, as if Rosé wasn’t just looking at her but seeing her, in a way that mirrored exactly what Y/N was feeling.

Then, slowly, Rosé’s lips curled into a smile.

Soft. Familiar. The kind of smile Y/N had seen a thousand times, yet suddenly, it felt different.

Y/N’s heart stumbled over itself.

Rosé lifted a hand and waved, a small motion that somehow carried the weight of the entire evening.

She tilted her head slightly, an unspoken invitation in her gaze, and just like that, leaving was no longer an option.

Y/N found herself moving before she even decided to. It was as if her body knew something she hadn’t quite admitted to herself yet, an invisible pull, a force guiding her straight to Rosé without hesitation. The music and the crowd faded into the background, becoming nothing more than a blur of movement and sound.

The moment she stepped closer, Rosé turned to her with an easy smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Finally,” she said, crossing her arms. “I was wondering how long you were gonna sulk in the corner.”

Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I wasn’t sulking.”

“Sure,” Rosé teased, tilting her head slightly, her blonde hair slipping over one shoulder. “You looked like you were planning your escape.”

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but.. well, she had been planning her escape. So instead, she just shrugged. “The party’s boring.”

Rosé smirked, leaning in just a fraction closer. “Not anymore, right?”

There was something in her voice, light, playful, but beneath it, something else. Something expectant. The way she looked at Y/N made her stomach flip, like she was waiting for an answer to a question she hadn’t asked out loud.

Before Y/N could analyze it too much, Jennie, who had been casually observing their interaction, cut in smoothly. “You two should just stick together. You’re the only people I’ve seen tonight who don’t look like they want something from someone.”

Rosé let out a soft laugh, the sound effortless and familiar. “Sounds like a plan.”

Jennie’s eyes flicked between them, like she was noticing something neither of them were ready to admit yet. But she just smirked knowingly before stepping away, leaving them in their own little space amidst the chaos of the party.

The conversation flowed easily after that, as it always did between them.

They talked about everything and nothing, complaining about their exhausting schedules, reminiscing about the funniest behind the scenes moments, making quiet jokes about the over the top fashion choices at the party. But underneath all of it, there was something different.

The space between them was less than it should have been.

Every time one of them shifted, the warmth of Rosé’s arm brushed against Y/N’s, sending tiny sparks of awareness up her skin. It wasn’t intentional, at least, Y/N didn’t think so, but neither of them moved away.

Then, without thinking, Y/N reached for a drink from a passing tray.

Her fingers unintentionally brushed against Rosé’s. It was barely a touch. A fleeting moment. But it was there.

Neither of them pulled away immediately.

Y/N swallowed, her pulse thrumming in her ears. She told herself it was nothing. Just a touch. Just a moment.

But then Rosé looked at her. Really looked at her.

And for the first time, Y/N wasn’t so sure it was nothing at all.

The warmth of Rosé’s fingers against Y/N’s lingered, even as the moment passed, even as they both slowly withdrew their hands and pretended like it hadn’t happened. The touch had been brief, fleeting, barely more than a brush of skin against skin. And yet, Y/N could still feel it, like an imprint left behind, delicate but all-consuming.

The air between them had changed.

The conversation continued, but Y/N found herself barely paying attention. She nodded at the right moments, let out small hums of acknowledgment when necessary, but her focus was elsewhere.

Because something was different now.

Rosé, standing impossibly close, her presence overwhelming in the best way. Rosé, whose perfume, light and floral with a hint of vanilla, was something Y/N could recognize anywhere. Rosé, who was quiet now, no longer filling the space with playful words, but instead watching Y/N in a way that sent something warm curling in her chest.

It wasn’t just her imagination.

She could feel it, this pull, this tension simmering just beneath the surface.

Rosé leaned in slightly, her voice just above a whisper, intimate despite the crowd around them. "Wanna get out of here?"

Y/N blinked, caught off guard.

Before she could respond, Rosé tilted her head, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"We could get drinks, or we could get coffee."

Rosé’s tone was casual, too casual, like she wasn’t fully acknowledging what she was asking. Like she was testing something, waiting for a reaction.

Y/N arched an eyebrow, smirking slightly, an attempt to keep her voice steady. “Since when do you drink this much, Rosie?”

Rosé shrugged, effortlessly cool, but Y/N caught the tiny flicker in her expression, the way her lips twitched like she was holding back something more. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to take you somewhere else.”

Y/N’s breath hitched.

A second passed. Then another.

Neither of them moved.

Rosé was still looking at her, the same way she had been all night, like she was seeing something new, something she hadn’t fully allowed herself to acknowledge before.

And maybe Y/N was looking at her the same way. The weight of the moment balanced on a knife’s edge.

Then, as if making an unspoken agreement, Rosé reached for her clutch, her movements smooth, deliberate. Y/N followed suit, setting her barely touched drink on the nearest table.

They didn’t say anything else, there was no need to.

Without another word, they slipped through the crowd together, leaving the noise of the party behind.

The city air was crisp when they stepped outside, a welcome contrast to the stifling heat of the party. The cool breeze nipped at Y/N’s skin, carrying with it the distant scent of rain on pavement and something floral from a nearby storefront. She inhaled deeply, letting the quiet settle over her like a balm.

Neon lights flickered against the wet pavement, stretching into long, fractured reflections with each passing car. The city was still alive but softer now, distant laughter from groups of night owls mingling with the low hum of traffic. It was the kind of night that felt endless, like anything could happen.

Rosé didn’t say where they were going, and Y/N didn’t ask.

She simply fell into step beside her, their shoulders brushing with every few strides. Neither of them moved away.

A comfortable silence stretched between them as they wandered through the quieter streets of Seoul, where the flashing signs and bustling crowds gave way to cozier alleyways and familiar corners. It wasn’t the first time they had done this, sneaking away after long events, walking without a real destination, enjoying the rare moments of peace their schedules didn’t often allow. But tonight felt… different.

Eventually, they turned down a quieter street, and Rosé led them toward a small, tucked-away café. The warm glow from inside spilled onto the sidewalk, the golden light inviting against the cool blue of the night.

Y/N smiled as recognition dawned. They’d been here before.

Hidden from the prying eyes of cameras and fans, this place had become something of an unspoken sanctuary, a little slice of normalcy in a life where normal didn’t exist.

But somehow, tonight, it felt different.

As Rosé pulled open the door, Y/N hesitated. "Are we really doing coffee at this hour?"

Rosé smirked, tilting her head slightly. “Since when do you care about time?”

Y/N huffed out a quiet laugh, stepping inside after her.

The café was warm, the rich scent of roasted beans and vanilla hanging in the air. Soft music played from an old speaker near the counter, blending into the occasional clinking of ceramic cups and the quiet murmur of the few other late-night customers. It was nothing like the party, no flashing lights, no suffocating expectations, no noise that drowned out the thoughts in her head.

Just them.

As they settled into a corner booth, Rosé ran a hand through her hair, shaking off the slight chill from outside. Y/N watched as she glanced at the menu with mild disinterest before resting her chin on her hand, eyes flickering up to meet Y/N’s.

“You’re stalling,” Y/N teased, placing her own menu down.

Rosé hummed, tapping her fingers against the table. “Maybe.” Then, after a beat, “What do you feel like?”

“Tea,” Y/N answered easily, lifting an eyebrow. “And I know you’re not about to order coffee. You hate drinking it late.”

Rosé’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Maybe I just like the company.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her heart betrayed her, skipping a beat at the effortless way Rosé said it.

They placed their orders, tea for Y/N, something herbal for Rosé, before settling into the quiet lull of the café.

The dim lighting cast soft shadows over Rosé’s face, highlighting the curve of her cheekbone, the slight downturn of her lips as she stared into her cup, stirring absentmindedly. Her fingers wrapped around the ceramic as if grounding herself, but there was a thoughtfulness in her expression, something unsaid resting at the tip of her tongue.

Y/N didn’t speak. She simply watched, taking in the way Rosé’s brows knitted together slightly, how the flickering candle on the table reflected in her eyes.

The café was quiet, not an empty kind of quiet, but the kind that felt safe. Unlike the party, there was no pressure to be anything but themselves here.

And yet, the air between them still carried a charge, an unspoken tension, something lingering just beneath the surface.

Y/N traced the rim of her cup absentmindedly, watching Rosé over the rising steam of her drink.

There was something mesmerizing about the way she carried herself, the effortless way she curled her fingers around the handle of her mug, the way her thumb absentmindedly smoothed over the ceramic surface as if lost in thought. She wasn’t fidgeting, not exactly, but there was a quiet kind of movement to her, a rhythm in the way she tapped a delicate pattern against the side of the cup, her mind seemingly elsewhere.

Y/N had seen Rosé like this before, deep in thought, lost in the quiet corners of her mind. But tonight, something about it felt different.

Maybe it was the lighting, casting warm shadows over the soft contours of her face.

Maybe it was the way her eyes flickered up to meet Y/N’s every so often, as if making sure she was still there.

Maybe it was the silence, charged, heavy with things unsaid, lingering between them like a question neither of them had dared to ask.

And then, before she could stop herself, the words slipped out. "This night felt pointless until I saw you."

Rosé stilled.

Her fingers tightened slightly around her cup, her posture shifting just the smallest fraction. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but Y/N noticed.

Because Rosé always moved with a certain grace, always carried herself with an effortless fluidity, and yet… something about the way she froze in that moment told Y/N that she had caught her off guard.

The words hung between them, suspended in the air like something fragile, something that could shatter if handled too carelessly.

For a moment, Rosé didn’t respond. She just sat there, her lips parted slightly, eyes searching Y/N’s as if trying to find the meaning hidden beneath them.

Because they both knew those words meant more than they should.

"I know we can't say what we mean, but I'm happy that you're here tonight."

Rosé opened her mouth, as if to say something. Y/N could see it, the hesitation, the thoughts racing behind her eyes, the weight of a response she was unsure if she could give.

She stopped herself, instead, she simply smiled.

Not her usual bright, camera-ready smile. Not the charming, practiced expression she wore for flashing lights and adoring fans.

This was something else. Something smaller. Something softer. Something private.

As if Y/N’s words were something she wanted to keep.

After that night, something changes.

It isn’t sudden, there’s no grand moment of realization, no spoken confession that shifts the world around them. But it’s there. Subtle and persistent. A slow unraveling, threading itself into the fabric of their everyday lives, too quiet to name but impossible to ignore.

They start spending more time together.

More than before. More than what could be written off as coincidence or simple friendship.

It starts small.

Rosé starts texting first.

Not because she has a reason, not because there’s anything urgent to say, but just because. Because she wants to, because something about Y/N’s name lighting up her screen makes the dullest parts of her day feel lighter.

And Y/N texts back, always. Sometimes with teasing responses, sometimes with sleepy voice notes at ungodly hours, her voice groggy but affectionate.

And then there are the calls, ones that start as quick check-ins but stretch into hours, their voices growing softer, quieter, like neither of them want to be the one to say goodbye.

Then come the meet-ups, slipping away between schedules, finding hidden places where no one will bother them. There’s something different about those moments. The way Rosé’s fingers toy with the rim of her cup, the way Y/N’s gaze lingers just a little too long. The way neither of them rush to leave.

The nights stretch longer.

More late-night conversations, more laughter, more stolen moments in places that feel like they exist outside of time. Y/N finds herself memorizing the way Rosé’s eyes flicker when she’s talking about something she loves, how she bites her lip when she’s deep in thought, how her voice softens when she says her name.

And then there are the touches. Small at first.

Brushed fingers when reaching for something at the same time. Rosé’s hand on the small of Y/N’s back when guiding her through a crowd. The way Y/N’s fingers linger on Rosé’s wrist when she tugs her closer, like she’s waiting for something.

It’s brief. Fleeting, but it’s enough.

Enough to make Y/N’s breath hitch. Enough to make Rosé’s heart stutter.

Rosé tells herself it’s nothing. Except… It’s always something.

She catches herself staring when she shouldn’t.

During rehearsals, during interviews, in moments where she should be focused, but instead, she’s watching her. Watching the way Y/N moves, the way she laughs, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear absentmindedly.

And every single time Y/N looks back at her, catches her in the act, Rosé’s pulse races.

It’s fine, she tells herself. Completely normal.

But if that’s true… Then why does it feel like something she’s not ready to admit?

Why does she find herself searching for Y/N, even when she’s supposed to be focused on something else? Why does her chest tighten when Y/N walks into a room, why does the absence of her presence feel palpable in a way it never used to?

It follows her everywhere.

During rehearsals, during interviews, in moments where she should be fully present but instead finds her thoughts drifting, always back to her.

And now? Now they’re here again, another schedule, another long day in the industry’s endless cycle. But this time, Rosé doesn’t just feel Y/N’s presence.

She sees her.

The backstage room hummed with the familiar chaos of a live broadcast, producers adjusting earpieces, stylists making last-minute fixes, camera operators calling out to one another. The low murmur of voices, the shuffle of footsteps, the faint whir of a curling iron in the background, it all blended into a steady, predictable noise.

But Rosé barely noticed any of it.

She was seated on the worn leather couch, waiting for the next segment to begin, her body angled slightly toward Y/N without realizing it. The space between them was negligible, their legs nearly touching. Too close to be accidental. Too familiar to be deliberate.

Y/N was speaking, her voice low and warm, her words laced with something teasing. Rosé wasn’t entirely sure what she was saying anymore, something about the interview, or maybe a joke about how long the day had been, but all Rosé could focus on was the way her voice curled around the words. The way her lips twitched in amusement before she even finished speaking, like she already knew Rosé would laugh.

She should move. She should.

But she didn’t.

A staff member passed by, flipping through a clipboard, their voice cutting through the air with an amused lilt.

"You two are always together." The words landed too heavily.

It was casual, offhanded, thrown into the conversation without a second thought. A passing comment meant to fill the silence.

But Rosé felt it like a spark.

Y/N, as always, was quick to respond. She let out an easy laugh, one of those effortlessly charming ones, leaning back against the couch as if the statement meant nothing at all. "Guess she’s stuck with me."

The staff member chuckled and walked off, the moment already forgotten.

Rosé should have laughed, too. It was a joke. Just a joke, but her face burned.

It shouldn’t have meant anything. It shouldn’t have sent a sudden, unsteady rush of heat creeping up her neck, shouldn’t have left her fingers curling subtly against her lap, pressing into the fabric of her dress as if grounding herself.

But the thing about the joke was that it wasn’t really a joke at all.

They were always together.

She could feel Y/N’s gaze on her now, lingering in that way that made Rosé feel seen in a way she wasn’t sure she was ready for. It was subtle, a flicker of attention, a silent question in the way her eyes softened at the corners.

Rosé kept her own gaze forward, pretending to be focused on the ongoing conversation happening across the room. If she laughed too much, it would be obvious. If she didn’t laugh at all, it would be worse.

So she settled for something in between.

A quiet exhale. A half-smile. A sip of water that did nothing to cool the warmth still spreading through her chest.

The conversation moved on. The moment passed, but the thought stayed.

Later, after the interview was over, after the cameras had been turned off and the crew had started packing up, Rosé found herself walking down an empty hallway beside Y/N. The distant hum of voices and laughter from the other rooms faded as they stepped further away from the noise.

It was just them now.

No cameras. No audience. No need to pretend.

Rosé spoke without fully thinking, the words slipping out before she had the chance to swallow them down.

"Maybe they have a point."

Y/N, who had been mid-step, paused.

She turned slightly, just enough for Rosé to see the shift in her expression, the way her amusement dimmed into something quieter, something unreadable. She didn’t speak right away, didn’t offer another easy, teasing response. Instead, she just looked at Rosé, really looked at her, like she was searching for something in her face, waiting to see if Rosé would take the words back.

She didn’t.

Y/N tilted her head, considering. Her voice was softer when she finally spoke. "Do they?"

It wasn’t playful, it wasn’t teasing. It was a real question.

Rosé swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of her own words.

She could still hear the echo of the joke from earlier. Could still feel the heat of Y/N’s gaze lingering on her, waiting for an answer.

And she could lie. She could laugh it off like she always did, could throw back a simple of course not and pretend like her pulse wasn’t hammering in her throat.

But she didn’t.

She just stood there, staring at Y/N, feeling everything and saying nothing.

Because maybe... Maybe she already knew the answer, and that’s what scared her the most.

And yet, the weight of that unspoken truth didn’t fade with time. It followed her in the quiet moments, in the spaces between conversations, in the way Y/N’s absence felt too loud even when the world around her was filled with noise.

Days passed, then weeks, and still, Rosé found herself caught in the same loop—avoiding, pretending, wanting, running.

She told herself that the tension would dissolve, that if she kept her distance, whatever this thing between them would fade into something manageable. But the distance only made it worse.

So when the invitation arrived, just another industry gathering, just another night of routine smiles and polite small talk, Rosé didn’t expect anything different.

She certainly didn’t expect her.

A private gathering, tucked away from flashing cameras and the ever-watchful eyes of the public. The kind of night where the air is thick with laughter, where drinks are passed between friends, and where time feels just a little more forgiving. Music hums softly from a speaker in the corner, blending into the low murmur of voices and the occasional clink of glasses.

Rosé isn’t drunk, not even close, but there’s a lightness in her limbs, a warmth curling in her chest that has nothing to do with the wine she’s been sipping. It’s the kind of night where everything feels easier, where reality seems softer at the edges, where thoughts she normally keeps locked away start to slip through the cracks.

Somewhere between conversation and quiet, between the flickering candlelight on the table and the sound of her own heartbeat, she feels her.

Y/N is close. Too close.

Rosé hadn’t even noticed when it happened, when the space between them had disappeared, but now?

Now, she’s hyper-aware of everything. The warmth of Y/N’s body beside her, the way their legs brush beneath the table, the faint scent of her perfume mingling with the evening air.

And then Y/N shifts, just slightly, and Rosé barely has time to react before she’s right there.

Her breath, soft, warm, ghosts against Rosé’s skin, impossibly near, and a shiver runs down her spine before she can stop it.

Her mind goes blank.

The conversation around them, the music, the laughter, it all fades into static, into something distant and insignificant.

There is only this. Only her.

Y/N’s voice, when she speaks, is barely more than a whisper. "If I kissed you right now, would it ruin everything?"

The words ignite something in Rosé, like a spark catching dry kindling, like something waiting to burn.

A slow inhale. A heartbeat too loud in her ears. A heat creeping up her throat that she doesn’t know what to do with.

She should say something. Do something, but she doesn’t.

She can’t.

Panic grips her chest before she even realizes it. A second stretches too long between them, thick with the weight of what’s been left unspoken for too long.

And Rosé? Rosé laughs.

Too quick. Too forced. As if that will erase the weight of what was just said.

"You’re just tipsy." It comes out light, dismissive, as if she can brush this off like nothing, like it’s not the most real thing she’s ever heard.

She shakes her head slightly, as if that will make it not real.

But Y/N isn’t tipsy. She isn’t swaying, isn’t slurring her words, isn’t drunk on anything except whatever this is between them.

And Rosé knows it. She knows it in the way Y/N’s expression flickers, just for a second. The way something flashes across her face, too quick to catch before she masks it.

But Rosé saw. She felt it.

The sharp sting of disappointment. The flicker of something wounded, something Y/N won’t let herself hold on to.

And Rosé’s chest tightens in a way that feels unbearable.

Because for the first time, she realizes that she doesn’t want Y/N to stop asking.

The morning after that night, Rosé wakes up with a sinking feeling in her chest.

For a moment, in the hazy stillness of her bedroom, she lets herself pretend everything is fine.

That nothing has changed. That her heart isn’t tangled in something she doesn’t know how to name.

But reality settles in too quickly.

She blinks up at the ceiling, the remnants of last night flickering behind her eyelids, the warmth of Y/N too close, the whisper of her breath against Rosé’s skin, the question that still lingers in the air between them like an unfinished song.

"If I kissed you right now, would it ruin everything?"

Rosé exhales sharply, pressing the heel of her palm against her forehead.

She tells herself it’s exhaustion, that the weight pressing down on her chest is just from too many late nights and back-to-back schedules.

But she knows better.

She knows it has everything to do with the way Y/N had looked at her. The quiet expectation in her eyes, the way her voice had softened, like she was offering Rosé something fragile, something she had been holding onto for too long.

And the way Rosé had run.

From her, from the truth, from whatever this thing between them was turning into.

So she does the only thing she knows how to do. She avoids.

The first message comes in before noon.

She sees it, her screen lighting up with Y/N’s name, but she doesn’t open it.

An hour later, a second message follows.

Rosé glances at it briefly, long enough to see the words "Are we okay?" before she locks her phone and shoves it face-down onto the nightstand.

The third message arrives sometime in the afternoon.

It sits unread in her notifications for hours, a quiet reminder that Y/N is still waiting for something Rosé isn’t sure she can give.

When her phone vibrates with an incoming call, she doesn’t even let herself hesitate, she just lets it ring.

Following days she tells herself she’s busy. That their schedules don’t align, that she’s tired, that it’s better this way.

But when Jennie corners her in the practice room later one day, arms crossed, her gaze sharp in a way that says she already knows the answer, Rosé falters.

“You’ve been weird,” Jennie says, not bothering with subtlety. “What’s going on?”

Rosé doesn’t look up from where she’s absently scrolling through her playlist, pretending to search for a song she isn’t really paying attention to.

“Nothing.”

Jennie scoffs. “Right. So nothing is why you’ve barely said two words all day?”

Rosé forces a laugh, but even she can hear how hollow it sounds. “I’m just tired.”

Jennie studies her for a moment, expression unreadable. “Does this have anything to do with Y/N?”

The name alone is enough to make Rosé’s breath hitch, to make her fingers clench around her phone before she forces them to relax.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, too quickly, too stiffly.

Jennie doesn’t press. She just sighs, shaking her head slightly. “Whatever it is, you’re not handling it well.”

And Rosé knows that.

She knows it every time she catches herself opening Y/N’s chat in the dead of night, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, over the words "Are you okay?", over the words "I'm sorry."

But she never types them. Never sends them.

Because that would mean admitting that this, whatever this is, means something, and she’s not sure she’s ready for that.

So she keeps running.

And Y/N? Y/N pretends not to notice, because if Rosé is going to run, she won’t chase.

But ignoring something doesn’t make it disappear. Rosé learns that the hard way.

No matter how much distance she tries to put between them, no matter how many unanswered texts or avoided glances, she still feels Y/N, like gravity, like a pull she can’t escape.

So when another event comes around, another event with the same people in a different venue, another night of rehearsed smiles and carefully curated interactions, Rosé tells herself that this will be just like any other.

That this time, she won’t let herself look for her.

But the moment she steps inside, the moment the lights and laughter and music blur into the background, she does.

The room is a blur of movement, a dazzling display of expensive gowns and crisp suits, of practiced smiles and meaningless conversations spoken over the hum of music. Laughter rises and falls, champagne flutes clink together in rehearsed toasts, and somewhere in the distance, cameras flash, capturing moments that will be dissected by the media in the morning.

Rosé stands near the edge of the crowd, her fingers curled loosely around the delicate stem of a wine glass, the cool press of glass grounding her.

She tells herself she isn’t looking for Y/N. She tries not to, but it doesn’t matter, her eyes find her anyway.

Like they always do. Like they always will.

And when they do, something sharp twists in her stomach.

Y/N is across the room, wrapped in conversation, her body angled toward someone Rosé doesn’t recognize. She’s smiling, bright and effortless, the kind of smile that makes people lean in, makes them stay. She laughs at something they say, head tilting back slightly, the sound clear even over the noise of the party.

She’s good at this. She always has been. She knows exactly how to make someone feel like they’re the only person in the room, and Rosé hates it.

Because tonight, that person isn’t her.

A bitter taste lingers at the back of her throat, something that has nothing to do with the wine she hasn’t touched in minutes.

She grips the glass a little tighter, eyes locked on the way Y/N leans in just slightly, the way her fingers graze against the sleeve of the stranger's suit, light, fleeting, but there.

It’s nothing. It’s probably nothing, but it doesn’t feel like nothing.

Then, as if sensing something, Y/N’s gaze shifts.

Just for a moment. Just long enough for their eyes to meet across the room. Long enough for Rosé to wonder if it was intentional.

But before she can figure it out, before she can read whatever might be hidden in Y/N’s expression, Y/N looks away.

And Rosé feels something crack inside her.

"Feelin’ so good at a bad party."

She exhales, turning away sharply, lifting her glass to her lips in an attempt to distract herself. The wine is smooth, expensive, but it does nothing to ease the tightness in her chest.

Jennie’s voice, dry and amused. “You look like you’re about to shatter that glass.”

Rosé stiffens. She barely has time to fix her expression before Jennie steps beside her, moving slowly, deliberately, sipping her drink as she watches her carefully.

Rosé forces a small laugh, one that feels unnatural even to her. “I’m fine.”

Jennie hums, unimpressed. “Right. And I’m the newest member of TWICE.”

Rosé exhales through her nose, loosening her grip on the glass. “It’s nothing.”

Jennie doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she follows Rosé’s gaze across the room, to her.

Y/N, still laughing, still talking, still not looking at Rosé.

Something shifts in Jennie’s expression.

Then, without missing a beat, she turns back, raising an eyebrow. “If you don’t want her to move on,” she says, voice softer now, words deliberate, “do something about it.”

Rosé swallows. Her throat is dry. She doesn’t respond.

Because she doesn’t know how.

The party is still alive beyond the walls of the bathroom, laughter spilling over the bass-heavy music, muffled conversations buzzing like static. The distant hum of it all presses against the thick wooden door, but in here, there is nothing but silence.

And them.

Rosé barely has time to react before the door swings shut with a soft click. She grips the edge of the marble sink, fingers tightening until her knuckles turn white.

She doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t have to.

She knows who it is.

The energy in the room shifts, the air thick with something suffocating, something heavy, something inevitable. The bathroom lights cast a dim glow against the mirror, reflecting back the face of someone who looks far too composed for how fast her heart is beating.

Behind her, Y/N stands motionless, but Rosé can feel the weight of her gaze, pressing against her back like a question waiting to be answered.

"Why are you acting like I don’t exist?" The words are quiet, but they land like a punch, knocking the air from Rosé’s lungs.

She inhales sharply, but it doesn’t steady her. She wasn’t ready for this.

She thought she had been avoiding a conversation, but the truth is, she was delaying it, and now, there’s nowhere left to run.

Her stomach twists violently. For a fleeting second, she thinks about lying. Thinks about brushing past Y/N, making up an excuse, slipping back into the party like none of this is happening.

But she can’t.

Slowly, she turns to face her.

Y/N is standing a few feet away, arms crossed, not in defiance, but in frustration, in hurt. She looks exhausted, like she’s been carrying the weight of this conversation for far too long.

Rosé swallows, her throat dry. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Y/N scoffs. Not in amusement. Not in mockery. It’s a sound of disbelief.

Of disappointment.

“Don’t do that,” Y/N murmurs, shaking her head. Her voice is softer now, but it’s laced with something tired. “Don’t stand there and pretend like you haven’t been ignoring me.”

Rosé looks away, but it doesn’t help.

Because the silence that follows confirms it.

She has been ignoring her. She’s been avoiding her, dodging texts, letting calls ring unanswered, keeping her distance like it would somehow fix this, like it would make everything that happened between them disappear.

But it hasn’t.

And now, the distance feels more suffocating than the closeness ever did.

The silence stretches, growing heavier.

"We can’t be like this." The words slip out before she can stop them.

They hang in the air, raw and exposed, before Rosé even fully understands what she’s just said.

Y/N flinches.

It’s slight, barely noticeable, the way her lips part slightly, like she wasn’t expecting it, like, even after everything, some small, stubborn part of her still hoped Rosé wouldn’t say it.

She exhales, running a hand through her hair, letting out a quiet, bitter laugh.

“Right,” she murmurs, shaking her head. “Of course we can’t.”

Rosé clenches her fists, nails digging into the skin of her palm, hating the way her chest aches at the sound of Y/N’s voice.

She should say something else, something softer, something that doesn’t sound so final.

But she doesn’t.

Y/N looks at her, and suddenly, Rosé feels like she’s standing at the edge of something dangerous.

A precipice she isn’t sure she wants to step away from.

"Then stop looking at me like you want me." The words come out sharp, cutting through the thick silence between them like a blade.

Rosé flinches. Because Y/N isn’t wrong.

And the worst part? She doesn’t even try to deny it.

She just stands there, silent, frozen, drowning in the weight of everything she hasn’t said.

And that, Y/N realizes, is answer enough.

The silence stretches between them, heavier than anything Rosé has ever carried. She watches as Y/N exhales, her expression shifting—not angry, not bitter, just... tired. Like she’s finally reached the end of something she never wanted to let go of.

And Rosé hates it.

She wants to reach out, to say something, to fix whatever this is before it slips through her fingers completely. But no words come, and when Y/N finally steps back, putting space between them, Rosé doesn’t move.

She watches as Y/N walks away, disappearing into the noise of the party.

And Rosé doesn’t chase her.

They stop talking, not gradually, not in the way friendships sometimes fade over time.

No, this is different. It’s sharp and immediate, like a door slammed shut, like something breaking just beneath the surface but never making a sound. Like a final breath before drowning.

Y/N tells herself she’s done waiting. She tells herself that if Rosé wants to pretend nothing happened, if she wants to ignore her, to act like Y/N doesn’t exist, then fine.

She won’t chase her. She won’t sit around hoping Rosé will finally stop running.

But it still hurts. More than she thought it would.

It hurts when she catches herself glancing at her phone, expecting a message that never comes. The stupid reflex of checking her notifications first thing in the morning, only to be met with silence.

It hurts when she hears Rosé’s voice in an interview, that familiar, melodic tone, speaking casually, laughing like nothing is wrong. Like she isn’t tearing Y/N apart in the quiet spaces between moments.

It hurts when she sees her across a room, standing with the same effortless grace, her fingers curled around a glass, her posture poised and unreadable.

Like they never meant anything at all.

Y/N tells herself she doesn’t care.

She throws herself into her work. Rehearsals, performances, interviews. She smiles when she’s supposed to. Laughs at the right moments. Flirts just enough to keep up the illusion that she’s fine.

That she isn’t falling apart. And for a while, it works.

Because when she’s on stage, when the lights are bright, when the music is loud, she can forget.

She can ignore the quiet ache in her chest, the way her thoughts always seem to drift back to Rosé when she isn’t paying attention.

But then the nights come.

And suddenly, there’s nothing to distract her. No flashing lights, no cameras, no endless noise to drown out the thoughts she doesn’t want to have.

She comes home to an empty room, kicks off her shoes, stares at the ceiling, and wonders if Rosé is doing the same thing. If she’s lying in bed somewhere, wide awake, thinking about Y/N the way Y/N is thinking about her.

She should let it go. She should.

She wants to.

But then, on a night where the loneliness is unbearable, when the silence feels too loud, when the weight in her chest feels too heavy, she reaches for her phone.

Her fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitation settling in her bones.

She shouldn’t. She knows, but before she can stop herself, before she can talk herself out of it. She types out a message.

"Drinks or coffee?"

The words stare back at her, small and simple, but somehow carrying everything.

She doesn’t expect an answer.

She tells herself she’s just doing it for closure, for something final. A message sent into the void, never to be answered.

She leaves the screen on anyway.

Watching.

Waiting.

Rosé is half-asleep when the message comes in.

Her phone vibrates softly on the nightstand, barely enough to stir her from the fog of sleep, but somehow, somehow, she feels it before she even registers the sound.

With a sigh, she shifts under the covers, eyes fluttering open just enough to see the dim glow of the screen casting a faint light across the room. The brightness stings, blurring her vision as she squints at the notification.

She almost ignores it. Until she sees the name.

Y/N.

Her breath catches, sleep vanishing instantly.

Fingers trembling slightly, she swipes at the screen, blinking hard as the words come into focus.

Her stomach drops.

For a long, paralyzing moment, all she can do is stare.

Y/N’s name on her screen feels like a ghost, like something she hasn’t let herself think about in weeks, like something she’s spent too much time trying to bury.

She thought she was doing the right thing. She thought if she pulled away, if she ignored the way her heart ached every time she saw Y/N, it would go away. That the distance would make it easier.

But it didn’t. It never did.

Every single day without her felt like walking through a world that had lost its color.

She felt it in the quiet moments, the ones where she reached for her phone, fingers hovering over Y/N’s contact, only to talk herself out of it at the last second.

She felt it in the laughter that didn’t reach her eyes anymore, in the way the world seemed too quiet without Y/N’s voice filling the spaces in between.

She felt it in every song she sang, in every lyric that hit too close, in every interview where she forced a smile and pretended like she hadn’t been unraveling piece by piece.

She missed her.

More than she wanted to admit, more than she could admit.

And now, here Y/N was.

Reaching out. Giving her a choice.

Drinks or coffee? It wasn’t just a question. It was an offering. A last chance. A lifeline.

A way of saying, "Are you going to keep running, or are you finally going to face this?"

Her heart slams against her ribs.

She could ignore it, she could keep pretending, she could let the silence stretch on forever, let the distance between them turn permanent.

And maybe Y/N would finally get tired of waiting. Maybe she would move on. Maybe, one day, Rosé would see her across a room, laughing with someone else, looking at them the way she used to look at Rosé.

The thought makes her stomach twist violently.

The air in the room feels suffocating, thick with the weight of everything she’s refused to say.

Her fingers tighten around her phone.

And then, before she can stop herself, before she can talk herself out of it.

She moves.

Rosé throws off her blankets, the chill of the room hitting her skin, but she barely feels it. Her body moves on instinct, faster than her thoughts can keep up, like some part of her already knows what she has to do.

Her hands shake as she grabs a jacket, as she shoves her feet into her shoes, as she pushes open the door and steps into the night.

The cold air bites at her, sharp against her skin, but it doesn’t matter.

Because all she knows is this.

The rush in her chest, the certainty settling into her bones, the desperate, aching need to move.

Suddenly, the thought of losing Y/N feels unbearable.

The café is nearly empty when Rosé arrives, its golden glow spilling onto the dark, rain-slicked pavement, a quiet sanctuary tucked away from the noise of the world outside. The soft chime of the bell above the door rings out into the stillness as she steps inside, breathless from the cold, her lungs burning as if she’s been running for miles instead of the short, frantic sprint from the station.

Her pulse is hammering, each beat echoing in her ears, but she forces herself to move forward, to look.

And then, she sees her.

Y/N is exactly where Rosé knew she would be, sitting in the farthest corner of the café, curled into the same spot she always claims whenever they come here. The table in front of her holds a half-empty cup, long forgotten, her fingers wrapped loosely around the ceramic as if the warmth of it is the only thing keeping her tethered to the moment. Her gaze is unfocused, staring out of the window into nothing, lost in thoughts Rosé can’t begin to guess.

There is something different about her.

Something about the way her shoulders are set, the way the usual spark in her eyes is missing, the way her lips are pressed into something softer, something unsure.

She looks lost, and the sight of it nearly destroys Rosé.

She swallows against the tightness in her throat, her steps hesitant as she moves toward the table. Her entire body feels too warm, too unsteady, as if the moment she speaks, the fragile thing between them will shatter completely.

Y/N doesn’t look up right away.

She only notices when Rosé finally slides into the seat across from her, exhaling shakily, the weight of weeks of silence settling between them like something heavy, something unspoken.

For a long, stretched moment, neither of them say a word.

The quiet hum of the café surrounds them, the occasional clink of porcelain, the low murmur of an old jazz song playing through the speakers, the hushed voices of the only other patrons lingering near the entrance.

But at their table, there is only silence.

Rosé stares down at her hands, clenched into fists against her lap, trying to steady herself, trying to gather the courage to say what she knows she needs to say.

"It’s not just you," she whispers, the words tumbling from her lips before she can stop them, before she can convince herself to stay silent for just a little longer.

Y/N’s brow furrows slightly, the smallest crease forming between them, as if she isn’t sure she heard her correctly. Her fingers twitch around her cup, but she doesn’t speak.

Rosé inhales sharply, then exhales just as quickly, feeling the rise and fall of her chest, the way her heart seems to ache with the weight of what she is about to admit.

"I’ve been thinking about you every day." Her voice is quiet but steady, and once the words start, she doesn’t want to stop. She can’t stop. "Yesterday, today, and tomorrow."

She forces herself to meet Y/N’s gaze, forces herself to let the words exist, no longer hidden in the safety of silence.

"Is it so wrong I’ve been thinking ‘bout you all day?"

The air between them shifts.

A moment ago, it had been heavy with uncertainty, thick with all the things they had been too afraid to say, but now? Now, it feels different.

Y/N stills, her fingers flexing around the ceramic mug, her breath catching ever so slightly, her lips parting like she wants to say something but can’t quite bring herself to speak yet.

For a second, a terrible, agonizing second, Rosé wonders if she’s too late.

If she’s already ruined this beyond repair. If Y/N has moved on.

But unexpectedly, Y/N smiles.

Soft. Knowing. Like she understands, like she’s been waiting for this, like she’s been waiting for her.

She leans forward just slightly, her eyes searching Rosé’s, voice gentle but firm when she finally speaks. "Then stop running from me."

The breath Rosé has been holding finally escapes, her chest rising and falling as something inside her, something that has been knotted up for so long, finally breaks loose.

And this time? She won’t run.

The morning light spills through the sheer curtains, casting golden ribbons of warmth across the duvet, illuminating the soft folds of fabric as Rosé stirs beneath it. The world feels quieter in this moment, gentler, as if the universe itself has shifted ever so slightly overnight, tilting into something softer, something lighter. The weight she hadn’t even realized she’d been carrying feels a little less suffocating, her breaths a little deeper, her chest no longer as tight.

She stretches lazily, the warmth of sleep still clinging to her limbs, fingers curling against the pillow as she blinks away the last remnants of dreams she can’t quite remember. There’s a peaceful stillness in the air, the kind that only exists in the early hours of the morning before reality fully settles in, before the demands of the day creep in to steal away these fleeting moments of tranquility.

Then, her phone buzzes against the nightstand.

The sound is quiet, almost insignificant against the hushed hum of the waking world, but it reaches her all the same, cutting through the fog of sleep.

With slow, clumsy movements, she reaches for it, fingers swiping blindly across the screen, still sluggish from sleep. The brightness of the display stings her eyes, and she squints against the glare as she reads the notification.

Y/N.

"Drinks or coffee? Just call me"

For a moment, Rosé just stares.

The words blur slightly in her vision, not because she’s still waking up, but because something inside her stirs, something deep and aching that she hasn’t fully allowed herself to feel until now.

A slow smile tugs at the corners of her lips before she even realizes it, the kind of smile that starts small but spreads, blooming into something uncontrollable, something real.

She reads the message once.

Then again.

And suddenly, she’s wide awake.

There’s no hesitation this time. No doubt creeping in to make her second-guess herself. No fear holding her back, telling her to stop, to run, to pretend like this doesn’t mean everything.

Just certainty. A kind of clarity she hasn’t felt in weeks.

She doesn’t waste time typing out a reply, doesn’t sit there searching for something witty or teasing to send back. Words aren’t enough. They never have been.

Instead, she presses the call button, the movement instinctive, as if her body already knows what her heart has only just allowed itself to accept.

The line rings once.

Twice.

"Morning, sleepyhead."

Y/N’s voice comes through the receiver, warm and familiar, laced with the soft amusement of someone who already knows Rosé too well, who can probably picture her sitting there, tangled in her sheets, phone clutched tightly in her hands.

Rosé exhales, her smile widening, the last remnants of sleep disappearing entirely.

"Morning." Her voice is still hushed, still laced with the gentle rasp of sleep, but there’s something lighter there now, something unburdened.

Y/N hums on the other end, the sound threading through the quiet like a melody Rosé didn’t know she’d been waiting to hear. "So? Drinks or coffee?"

Rosé laughs softly, the warmth in her chest spilling over, impossible to contain. She’s already sitting up, already reaching for the first jacket she can find, already moving before she’s even fully aware of it.

"Neither."

There’s a pause, and she can almost hear the curiosity in Y/N’s silence before the response comes."Oh?"

"I just want to see you."

There’s another pause, longer this time. The kind that stretches, that means something. Rosé can hear Y/N shift slightly on the other end, can imagine the small smile forming on her lips, the tilt of her head, the way she’s probably biting back some teasing remark, drawing out the anticipation just to make Rosé wait.

"Then hurry up, Chipmunk."

Rosé laughs again, this time louder, freer. And for the first time in a long time, she knows exactly where she’s meant to be.

#kpop imagines #girl group imagines #gg x reader #kpop x reader #blackpink x reader #blackpink rosé #rose x fem reader #rosé x reader #rose x reader #roseanne park x reader #park chaeyoung x reader

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pfhwrittes · 6 months ago

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Thank you so much! I knew quite a few of the artists you listed but there were still some that are new to me, so I'm excited to check them out!!

I really appreciate how thorough your answers are and providing the links for the specific accents and slang. I feel like that will help me out a lot! I tried to do as much research as I could before I started writing, but there's only so far you can go when you don't know exactly what you're looking for in the first place.

I think Price was the only one that I couldn't exactly find out where he was supposed to be from and what that accent is supposed to be like. I really like the way he sounds in the games, but I might give Scouse!Price a try in one of my oneshots and see how that turns out. I really enjoy writing for things that are underrepresented in fandom so this might turn into my new favorite thing :) (I don't really follow any behind the scenes stuff or the actors themselves but my favorite video I ever came across was the one where Barry was showing off the 'coke and a water' he got after asking for a coconut water)

And I guess with Gaz it's not that his accent isn't as noticeable, so maybe pronounced wasn't quite the right word. I guess I'm just more familiar with the sound of a London accent. I feel like that's the stereotypical 'British' accent that is represented over here in the States, so it feels a little more basic? less embellished? not as hard to understand? Idk I feel like I'm still not quite finding the right word for it. I guess I'm more worried about using the right slang for him whereas with the rest of them it's finding the right slang AND figuring out the right way to write out the accent itself like you explained with the manc 'ya' and 'meh'

But anyways- Thank you again! I'm going to be doing a deep dive into all the links and hopefully come out on the other side a little more confident in my writing :)

Mr Blobanon 🤡

p.s. I don't mind being the Mr Blobby anon 😂 if they had an emoji for him I'd be using it right now lol but the clown will have to do for now.

mr blobanon 🤡! you're back!

i just had a thought, i know my darling @syoddeye is feeling a little under the weather at the moment BUT they have some fantastic music recs if you're looking for general vibes that might fit the characters. i fully recommend listening to the playlist they put together for their fic "For the Record", it's good stuff.

i'd love to see your take on scouse!price when you get round to it if you ever feel like sharing!

most non-uk people are more familiar with london/southern england/home counties/RP accents as that's what you see the most of in british media (booo!) so it makes sense that (for you) gaz's accent is the "default". don't worry about phrasing, i know what you mean and i'm not offended. the only time i get my hackles up is when people take the mick when it comes to regional/working class accents OR when they start up with the whole "scouse/brummie/northern accents are horrible" bullshit.

i'm trying to think of the best way i can help when it comes to solidifying gaz's slang/speech patterns but i'm drawing a bit of a blank. if there's a bit of gaz's dialogue that you're not sure sounds right i can give it a scan for you.

oh and some quick tips for making sure your british characters (specifically english) sound authentic:

it's shops, not store

traffic lights, not stop light

stop sign, not yield sign

boot (of a car), not trunk

bonnet (of a car), not hood

windscreen, not windshield

indicator, not blinker or turn signal

pavement, not sidewalk

road, not pavement

tarmac, not asphalt

bag, not purse

purse (for feminine characters), not wallet or coin purse

wallet (for masculine characters), not billfold

£50 notes are pink (and usually refused in most shops because they're fairly rare when it comes to circulation), £20s are purple, £10s are orange/yellow, £5s are blue

twenty quid note, tenner and fiver are all used commonly when referring to money (i haven't heard of a colloquial term for a £50 because i never have any 😅)

when writing out money write it as £1.20/£5.99 - not £1.20p/£5.99p unless it's less than a pound

when writing out money that's under a pound write it as 99p/20p not £0.99/£0.20

we use a blend of imperial and metric measurements just to be confusing

humans get weighed in stones and lbs AND kgs. height (in humans) gets measured as both feet and inches AND metres and centimetres

distances travelled are measured in miles not kilometres

distances measured can be in metres, feet, inches, centimetres, millimetres

volume can and will be measured in pints, gallons, litres and millilitres

that's all i can think of right now but i'm sure there's more! good luck!

#pfh answers #mr blobanon 🤡#<- that's your name now anon i'm so sorry #pfh talks about england #also i know the blend of imperial and metric measurements is weird #and unfortunately it can be confusing when to use each measurement so do poke me if you want me to ever check that over for you!

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rouge-fauna · 5 months ago

Text

I think you’re talking about these posts [here & here], I don’t know if there have been others.

I'm not gonna say what I did was right, you are correct I should probably just not respond to asks getting me to talk about other people. I will say for these two posts those people had already blocked me I’m pretty sure, so it’s kinda hard to talk directly to them in that case. And I was not doing so anonymously and had not blocked them so I wasn’t hiding what I was saying. I did not follow them, I am not part of the innitor community, and not that that makes it right but I do think it is kinda different. Though you make a good point, perhaps we should stop this pattern of responding to asks about other blogs and such.

Still, the biggest thing to me I realized, back in elementary school when I first dealt with this, was that honestly all the time we talk about people behind their back. Talking about people when they aren’t always in the room is kinda just inevitable and part of socializing, however I think the important part is how you are talking about other people. It’s when you are insulting them, talking negatively about them to people they know, spreading false information and so on that it becomes not okay. Hopefully that makes sense.

In these cases I merely focused on the lore. I didn’t insult them or talk shit about them, as a person, as a blog or say their takes were stupid or they are stupid or speculate about their trauma or mental history. I just talked about reasons why I disagreed, or saw things differently and why we might see things differently. They were also not the only ones I saw to say similar things so I think in my mind I was making more of a general discussion, not trying to target them specifically. I didn’t post beyond that about them. But you are right, regardless it was probably not the right way to go about things.

But just to be clear, if I am a hypocrite it is not my intention. I haven’t vague blogged anyone or meant to vague reblog anyone. I think this week is pretty much the first time I’ve ever been not naming, passive aggressively talking about blogs, and even then I’m not trying to insult them, trying to cancel them. I’m just expressing that before you go off about how I’m stupid and unable to have a discussion about it, the very least you could’ve done was give me an opportunity to try.

#I’m not going to say I’ve handled everything like I should. I feel like usually I try to tag people and include context and pictures so I’m #not trying to be passive aggressive or talk about people behind their back.#I’m not hiding. I haven’t even used the Tommy neg tag and I feel like I always leave things open and - here is my opinion it is not the onl #one or maybe even the right one or - here are my thoughts at the moment of 1am or here is the lore…#I made my alt name and image very clearly still me. I’m not trying to be sneaky or backhanded or insult You for an opinion or call You dumb #and if I have insulted or hurt someone I’m genuinely sorry and didn’t mean to. Something I try to reiterate #as my tone can come across as aggressive #crumbs #hello there #but see how we can have a discussion of -hey flora maybe you shouldn’t be talking about other people without tagging them or going directly #to them and I can be like - yea you have a good point. your right that’s not being respectful to them.#clarifications #thats what I'm really asking for. the respect to see if I am going to be as bad as you assume. give me the benefit of the doubt #I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know all the internet etiquette or slang. this is my first time participating in a fandom #my first time on tumblr. on ao3. the first time I've gotten actual like interactions on things beside like graduation pics #not to plead ignorance as innocence #but I know I don't know everything & am not claiming to thats why I try to leave safe space for people to come respectfully to me #after feeling aggressive backlash and seeing it happen I have since tried to make sure I try to respect other people's opinions #now that doesnt mean that if you just leave an anon in my inbox Im going to respond to it if I have already talked about it.#- okay you disagree. I stated my opinion you've stated yours and if there is no further point to discuss then I might not respond #though I did make this blog to perhaps respond more to things like that since you did take the time to say it the least I can do it respond #(and I cant just send you a direct message if you go anon <3)#uh... anyways didn't mean to leave an essay here oops... hope im making sense to someone :)

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ruelpsen · 2 months ago

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If I had to choose between cutting off my hand and redoing grad school apps, I'd seriously consider the hand. Be gentle with yourself, it's a fucking slog. What kind of program are you looking into?

Thank you for the reminder to be gentle. This shit has been stressful, and having for various reasons only about a month and a half to actually do focused work on applying has SUCKED. Not looking forward to potentially having to do this again in the future (it's complicated but I'll explain why in a sec), but I am SO looking forward to two weeks from now when these applications are in and it's out of my hands, as much as the waiting game itself sucks in its own way.

As for programs, I don't want to get too specific. I was a double major in undergrad, and I'm not exaggerating when I say I've literally never met anyone else with those two specific majors. (Ftr one is a STEM field and the other in the humanities.) I want to keep studying both in some capacity in the future, but to make a long story short I'm stuck in a position where I have to hold off on applying to the program in the humanities for now.

As annoyed as I am about the 'long story' part of that, I'm totally fine with prioritizing the program in STEM for now. Hell, in some ways that's a good thing given the limited amount of time I have to work on applications. But at the same time, I've greatly limited the number of schools I'm applying to so I can focus on creating well-tailored applications for their specific programs and faculty, and that means each potential rejection would leave me with a far smaller share of options. It's a bit of a risk, but damn it I'm trying my best to show how strong of a student I've been and that I would work well with their specific people. Hopefully things work out in the end.

I hope your own efforts have paid off too, wherever life has taken you.

#it's hitting me now too how badly my undergrad school prepared me for this process #besides a couple of conversations with professors about grad school and jokes about selling your soul to unethical corporations-#- we didn't get told SHIT #i've said it before and i'll say it again but do not go to a rich kid school if you are not a rich kid (this is coming from a non-rich kid)#or at the very least be prepared for people to assume you know the ins and outs of networking and stuff you've never been taught about #i'm not joking when i say the school i went to brags about how many students get job placements soon after graduation #but has next to no actual resources to help students continue their education (esp for minority students) (like myself)#it's so frustrating seeing peers of mine get cushy jobs based on who they know when i'm out here busting my ass bc idk the right people #and god forbid you want to learn more but don't have similar connections in academia! it sucks!#i know my applications' success heavily relies upon letters i'm not allowed to read written for me by professors who can vouch for me #because their names might mean something to someone who might otherwise disregard me despite how ridiculously experienced i am #knowing you're good enough but might get rejected for something that goes beyond you has to be one of the worst feelings #i already have the sneaking suspicion that i won't get accepted to one of my top three schools based on that #and i haven't even submitted my app for them yet #there's so much i hate about higher ed but dammit i still want to learn. that might be the worst part of it all.#i want to keep learning but at the end of the day it's not about what i want. it's what an institution wants FOR me.#but that will not stop me from trying or from fighting for what i want. at least i have that.#anyway sorry for the long-ass ramble and for the delay but hopefully that answers your question sufficiently enough #and hopefully what i've said is useful to someone somewhere who might be in a weird spot like this #ask #answered #anon

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azurityarts · 2 years ago

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hello! i was wondering if you knew of any other pokemon blogs? youre the only one i follow and i would like to have more

thank you and have a good day

Yeah! Depends on if you're looking for art blogs or general Pokemon blogs, but either way I know a mix of both. But honestly though, there are so many amazing blogs out here on Tumblr, you don't need to look far to find incredibly creative and talented people who share your interests, especially when it comes to Pokemon!

But here are some snazzy folks I know/know of:

AND DISCLAIMER: Not all of these blogs are 100% Pokemon oriented; remember that people can like different things and if they aren't to your taste, don't follow. (if you'd like your name removed from this list then please let me know ^^;)

@aimer-arts

@iixy

@theconfusedanimal

@mandymiriana

@inukkiarts

@cyber-wildcat

@elliikuma

@briarbramble

@for-a-new-life

@albadex

@newtbug-archives

@maple-and-pie

@honrupi-art

@rusty-eevee

@spriteveon

@kitsuakari

@jazzy-art-time

@polygonsword

@plutosoda

@ildahl

@amphibioticdescent

@snoofins

@calyx-arts

@alba-tross

@randomcyndaquil

@energyscarf

@maple-cloak

@teeterarting

@advosart

@pikabata

@djmuffintops

@teshamerkel

@min-play

@retrogamingblog2

@gotchibam

@rondo-grazioso

@moonpaw

@apolozorua

I can't do justice for all the Pokeblogs out there, so if there are any recommendations anyone would like to add, feel free to tag each other!

#azuritalks #long post #ask #anon #none of these blogs are ranked in any particular way #i really hope it doesn't seem that way abskdjfhdjf #i'm sorry if i forgot any of yall asjkdfhkajsdf #i've been digging and scrolling for a solid hour now and i still feel like i've forgotten so many cool people shndfhndshnf #also another disclaimer in the sense that i would definitely know more PMD blogs as opposed to mainline Pokemon blogs #and again; if you'd like your name off this random list then PLEASE please let me know #...i feel like i just @everyone'd oh god

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todayisafridaynight · 2 years ago

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huh...wuh..accidentally hit daigo with the bpd beam (unintended projection is scary) in sumn im writing but now im thinking daigo could totally have it chairman daigo is better at managing it but 2006 daigo is already doing bad whats another thing on the pile hes got the risky behaviour he's got the impulsiveness maybe the unstable relationships (im reaching i think)..maybe im just smarter than everyone and right and awesome wow..

(i rambled sorry) (my bad) (headcanons are so fun for me sorry)

you come into my house and proclaim yourself smarter than me when it comes to daigo dojima i will make your execution quick and painless

unfortunately you're right in this one instance cause i dont know a licka anything about BPD so i'll SIMPLY have to take your word on it. whats another trouble for the boy yk

#snap chats #'but snap i thought you were a psychologist' so did i but im only now realizing i know absolutely nothing about BPD #i mean as the name suggests 'bipolar disorder' it's about heavy and frequent mood swings but thats all i could tell you about it #which i cant say isnt all that far fro Y2 -> early Y3 daigo but its hard for me to say its because of BPD #the psychology of daigo dojima is one of my favorite things to think about he's such A Guy but A Troubled Guy #like to me daigo's behavior can be more attributed to depression #his Y2 behavior anyway- which makes sense as to why he calms down more by Y3 #he's at peace with what happened to his father and kiryu- it's not a smooth transition #of course he lashes out in that RGGO but his behavior gets corrected p quick #idk i wont go on this tangent too long you did say this was a projection kinda beat and yk what #who am i to wanna dunk on someone trying to see themselves in another chara id be a hypocrite if i did #if anythin this ask's just reminded me i should probably look more into BPD at some point since i hear bout it so much #from my vague understanding of BPD tho ik my bitch ass kept sayin masato had it #mostly cause there's a lung disease ALSO abbreviated BPD and yk. 'oh which bpd' Yeah. It's Both.#but no one wanna relate to masato he's crusty im so sorry anon these tags are getting worse and worse #i hope your writing goes well i'm sure you're doing a killer job

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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

Text

the secret wife

- nanami kento x reader

follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!

genre/warnings: crack, fluff, the first years are simply chaotic, an attempt at humor, gojo cameo (he’s so insufferable), mentions of pregnancy, nanami being the best husband there is

note: based on an anon's suggestion, this is a spin-off to love entries' wife (so gojo is married to love entries reader naturally!) this is full chaos and crack omg so sorry and isn't proofread bc i’m kinda tired so pls forgive any mistakes and my dry humor :')

general masterlist

On one fine, sunny day, which was supposed to be a calm and relaxing afternoon...

“Hello? Yuji—”

Megumi could've sworn, they weren't usually this nosy.

“Gojo-sensei! It's urgent!”

Call it indulgence, because Nobara's curiosity just got the better of her.

“Oh? What's—”

“Does Nanamin have a wife!?”

And Yuji... well, he just needed answers, because the three of them were now in the ‘Mom and Baby’ section of department store, having just witnessed a monumental sight of their esteemed mentor, Nanami Kento—

—with a remarkably stunning woman hanging onto his arm.

“Huh?” Gojo's confusion was evident from the other line. Oh, yeah. Yuji had decided to cut to the chase and call him too, hoping for a swift clarification.

Okay, so why were the trio—plus Gojo on the speakerphone—hiding behind a pillar just to spy on Nanami and his very possible wife? Let us rewind 30 minutes before...

Yuji considers himself to have an exceptional eye and taste for women.

And 30 minutes ago, when he fell on his butt on the rough, hard asphalt in the jammed Shibuya crossing after accidentally getting shoved by the crowd, and encountered a kind, vivacious older woman—you, who extended a hand to help him up, he was even more convinced of that.

“Are you alright, Itadori-kun?” your soft voice entered his ears, catching him off-guard, and Yuji was certain of two things then.

One, that you were just like a literal angel descended from skies above, all dolled up and pretty with your flowy sundress.

“Ah, uh—” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere and anywhere at once as his palm started sweating after clasping your hand. “I-I am…”

And two, for the life of him, he had no idea who you were.

But it registered late in his mind to ask as he was busy controlling his ragged breathing and instant crush, and before Yuji knew it, you graced him with another kind smile and went on your way.

And did he feel so miserable afterwards.

. . .

“She’s sooo hella pretty, Fushiguro! And she knows me! Me!”

Megumi sighed, eyeing his friend in disgust. Truthfully, all he wanted was to return to the dorms and collapse onto his bed, and not listen to his friend’s incoherent ramblings.

"You sure you weren't imagining things?" Nobara questioned with slight irritation. "After you embarrassed us in front of Gojo-sensei's wife a while back, please think more before you act."

"I'm not, I swear! She said my name!"

"Itadori, can you please just not?" Megumi grumbled, having enough of this ruckus. "I want to walk back in peace."

And so tucking away his pout, Yuji walked in silence just as his best friend asked, and he was really going to leave it at that when suddenly he caught the sight of a familiar pristine coat and the sundress from earlier. “Oh?”

"Isn't that Nanami-san?" Nobara also spotted him, her eyes widening when she saw you, who was happily beaming as well as Nanami's light chuckle. "And wait, who is—?"

"That's her!" Yuji burst out, pointing decisively in your direction. "That's who I was talking about!"

Oh, no. Megumi dreaded it already. He could already see the utter catastrophe—

"I'm going after them!"

"Wait, Itadori! Me too!"

Too late. Before he could stop them, Nobara and Yuji had followed the pair. Reluctantly, Megumi trailed behind them too, albeit wearing a vexed scowl. Yet despite his misgivings, he couldn't deny that the things he saw over the next 30 minutes were genuinely unexpected.

Nanami consistently led you to a quieter spot away from the bustling crowd, his hand holding yours firmly. He would occasionally throw you a smile, or when you didn’t hold hands, then he’d wrap an arm around your waist. And to the trio's bewilderment, they also saw him tenderly brushing his lips against your head while on the escalator.

Soft and gentle. It was a side of Nanami Kento they had never witnessed—either with anyone else or even himself.

The two of you ventured through home appliances, visited food stalls, and eventually... the ‘Mom and Baby’ section.

"Do you want to rest for a bit?" Nanami's voice held a touch of concern as his hand settled on the small of your back, and seeing that, Nobara positively swooned.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," you responded with a reassuring smile. "Let's head over there. I'd like to see that next!"

Watching you and Nanami meticulously going through strollers and cribs like a pair of would-be parents was apparently too mind-blowing for Yuji and Nobara, leading to the decision to call Gojo right then and there. And, as they say, the rest was history.

"Last I heard, Nanami wasn't married," Gojo answered resolutely. "If he is, then it's the ultimate betrayal because he never told me!"

"But we see him with a woman! At mother and baby care section!"

Gojo hummed in thoughtful manner. "Okay, students. Now I'm tasking you to see this to the very end! Keep me on the line!"

With that, Operation: Uncover Nanami's Wife was officially underway, and frankly, the way the three of them were clumsily tailing the 7:3 sorcerer made Megumi want to facepalm. How was it that Nanami hadn't noticed their rather conspicuous attempts at all?

Now you were fawning over baby clothes, cutely trying not to squeal as you picked a little blue and yellow overalls. "Kento! Kento! Look, how cute!"

And all of them were floored once again when the expression on his face softened, as a warm smile adorned his lips. "Yeah, they are."

"Is she pregnant? She doesn't look it..." Nobara remarked, squinting and frowning, still watching the two of you like a hawk.

"Or maybe they're shopping for someone else?" Megumi suggested, earning teasing grins from Yuji and Nobara, to which he quickly rolled his eyes, as they chorused, "Looks like you're curious too!"

After a while, you moved from the clothes to sections stocked with mother's necessities. Yuji leaned against one of the racks, pressing his ear against it, with Nobara and Megumi crowding behind him, attempting to catch a snippet of your conversation with Nanami.

"I think we should get some heat packs and these pillows—"

"Oh, Kento! You're such a worrywart, I still won't need them for a few more months—"

"Wait, what?" Yuji whipped his head around in surprise, causing Nobara, who was leaning on him, to stumble and inadvertently collide with the racks.

"Eh? Huh!?"

Unfortunately, the racks weren't sturdy enough, and the force caused them to sway dangerously. Nobara, sensing her imminent fall, instinctively grabbed Yuji's arm to steady herself. However, he got tugged instead and their combined weight exacerbated the situation, leading to the racks quickly toppling over and a deafening commotion ensued—

Crash!

"Careful!" Nanami immediately pulled you behind him, a protective arm around your shoulder, sensing your shock from the sudden crash. He was on high alert, expecting some sort of attack of cursed spirits, but instead, he was met with the most astounding sight of the bickering culprits amidst the fallen racks.

"Kugisaki! What are you doing!"

"You dumbass! Why didn't you stop me from falling?!"

"Itadori-kun...?" Nanami called out in utter disbelief, his mind couldn't fathom as to why the first years were here. However, his attention quickly shifted to Megumi, who was seething and sending his friends a glare so hard it could drill a hole into them.

Then, the boy swiftly fixed himself into a low bow in front of him, ashamed, disregarding Yuji and Nobara's groans altogether. "Nanami-san, I'm very, very sorry on their behalf."

"What are the three of you doing here?" he inquired, and poor Megumi seemed at a loss, huffing as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start.

Meanwhile you were full of worry for the fallen kids. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"

For the second time today, you tried to help Yuji to stand on his feet, and this time, he really had a good look over you.

It wasn't exactly noticeable due to how loose your dress was, but now he could see that under it, your belly was slightly rounded—an unmistakable baby bump.

Amidst his shock and pain, Yuji couldn't bring himself to take your hand as he inadvertently let this slip, "N-Nanamin! You knocked her up!"

Nanami blinked. You gaped. Megumi and Nobara went pale in sheer horror, ready to murder their friend on the spot for his extreme height of rudeness.

“Itadori-kun,” Nanami cleared his throat then, and if he was offended, then he chose not to show it. “First of all, I’m sorry for not introducing you sooner. This is Y/N, my wife, and yes,” his tone hardened slightly, “She’s carrying our first child.”

“S-so you are married!”

“Yes, that was what I—”

“What the hell?! NANAMIIII!”

Oh, the freaking phone. After his fall, Yuji’s phone ended up on the floor, and of course, Gojo did hear all of the entire madness, evident from how his voice blared from the phone.

Nanami frowned, unwittingly reaching out towards the phone. “Who—?”

“NA-NA-MI!" Gojo screeched in righteous exasperation, and the former immediately pulled away from the phone with a cringe. “How could you?! I invited you to my wedding! Are you a hermit or something—how could not tell anyone!? Didn’t you say I can officiate—”

“I said no such thing. Please refrain from saying outrageous things, it’s both annoying and misleading,” Nanami stressed, growing more irritated by the mere sound of Gojo's whining voice and feeling his patience waning rapidly.

"Aren't we friends?! How—!"

"Should I find you instigate one more of this... shenanigans with the kids, I won't hesitate to report you to Yaga and your wife," he interjected then with clear irritation, and right that second, Gojo shut himself up.

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi couldn't help drawing that one conclusion in wonder: So, that's what Gojo-sensei is afraid of.

Nanami swiftly ended the call with a flick of his finger, returning the phone to the still mystified Yuji. Turning back to the trio, Nanami's irritation simmered as he glanced at the mess of broken goods on the floor, as well as noticing the approaching clerks.

"You three..." Nanami started, his voice rising slightly, unfaltering even as the three of them flinched. "Do you realize what you've done? Are you so idle that you can ditch your assignments?"

"Kento, don't be too harsh," you rebuked, placing a hand on his arm with a frown on your face. Nanami sighed, looking over the situation once again. It was a whole rack of baby necessities destroyed; plates, glasses, and whatnot scattered across the floor.

Nobara bit her lip in anxiety. “Oh my god, who's going to pay for all this damage?” She could already imagine the staggering amount this mess would cost. This is worth millions, anyone can go bankrupt.

There was only one person who can and will. Immediately, both Nanami and Megumi turned to her with a shared resolve.

"Gojo," Megumi blurted.

"He will be charged for everything," Nanami added with spite.

Epilogue

"You just love those kids, don't you, Kento?"

That night, when both of you were ready for sleep, Nanami had one hand caressing your still growing belly, and you teased him with a chuckle.

"Huh?" your husband looked at you in mild confusion as he stopped stroking you. "What do you mean?"

You giggled again. "You said to put it on Gojo's name, but in the end, you were the one who covered the damages first."

Nanami huffed lightly. "That's because I can't get the kids in trouble. But mark my words, I'll make sure Gojo pays up later, by force if I need to." He made a face when he remembered just what a massive bill it was. "That's too much money to be spent carelessly. We have our child and our future to consider."

"You're always like that," you sighed fondly, taking his hand and placing it back to the swell of your belly. "Always on the first line of defense for the students." Your smile widened. "It makes me think... just how lucky our kid will be with you as their father."

"On the contrary, I'm counting my blessings that they'll have someone as soft as you for their mother," your husband retorted with a smile, kissing your temple. And your heart melted into a puddle by his affectionate gesture.

"That's too sweet... ah, yeah," suddenly, you were reminded of a critical thing. “Kento, have you ever considered telling everyone else that we're married? At least to people at school?”

Nanami always wanted privacy for safety reasons most of the time, and you understood that, but seeing that Gojo and the first years knew already, you thought it might be the best time to let everyone know.

"I honestly don’t see the need to, why?"

"People like Gojo are confused—"

Your husband rolled his eyes then. "Don’t worry, dear. People like Gojo exist to spread the word so we don't have to."

#nanami kento x reader #jjk fluff #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento #jjk x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami x you #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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minty-bubblegum · 1 year ago

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Boo. You've attracted this anon!

Ahh!

O_o

Be careful I am easily spooked anyways hi pookie anon :3

#Pookie anon 💕#Sorry that's your name now 😔#Ahh you're so silly #Said 5 words in two sentences that's enough for me to like you now :3 #See I'm very amiable and easy to interact with..say a few words and we'll be bestie bears :3

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jinxvex · 2 months ago

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HIII!!! girl your sevika x reader bartender fic was so hot her talking them through it omg 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 if you take request could you do sevika x reader established relationship nsfw head canons or sfw head canons anything that make you comfy :333

♱ gf!sevika (established relationship) headcanons!! ♱

omg!! first request!! thank you anon, i'm so geeked rn omg 😆

i'll do both sfw & nsfw because i'm seated 4 both 🤭🤭...

cw: smutty shit, dirty talk, pet names, that shimmastrap, roughness, daddy kink (DON'T BE AFRAID IT'S NUN WEIRD), vulgar language, just plain smut LOL

SFW:

♱ she loves taking care of you! she loves when you can’t reach for something and you have to ask her to get it for you (it’s canon that she’s tall asf). she definitely has a smirk on her face when you’re struggling to open something for a while and she comes over and opens it in on the first try… + trust, you wouldn’t even have to ask her to carry your bags/things because she does it unprovoked (ahhh!! 🫠).

♱ to stem off of that, she loves buying you shit with her poker money + providing you with anything you need.

♱ you always catch her staring at you! it makes you so flustered that you always look away + she turns your chin towards her so that you’re looking into her eyes and goes “don’t be shy, baby, it’s just me.” and “what? i can’t look at you?” with a cocky smile on her face (cuz why u playinggg LMAO).

♱ loves to train with you and humble you by pinning you on the floor after your attempt to take her down.

♱ calls you all kinds of sweet nicknames (even early on in the relationship, she doesn’t gaf.) “baby,” “babe,” “princess,” “angel,” “sweetheart,” “mama,” “doll,” “love,” “darling,” “beautiful,” everything you could possibly think of!

♱ oh she’s not even looking at other women and she gets hella possessive/jealous if anyone looks your way as well (literally just wrote about this lol).

♱ sevika is very protective of you in public and always has an arm resting on your shoulder and waist! (also so people know you’re hers).

♱ when you both go out to eat this woman always has to sit by you and rest her hand on your thigh because she’s literally OBSESSED with you. she would rest her hand on your thigh in the car as well! (she’s driving WBK).

♱ she’s hesitant at first! but she eventually lets you craft her a skin and body care routine. she’s very set in her old ways and has the whole “use what works” attitude when it comes to skincare/shower routines. BUT! she does love watching you get excited when you talk about what ingredients in skincare will help with what.

♱ like i mentioned above, she’s more of a listener and prefers to listen to you talk.

♱ sevika feels SO guilty when she makes you upset. she will literally get down on her knees and look up at you, eyes asking, NO, BEGGING for forgiveness. “i'm sorry, princess. forgive me, please?”

♱ she loves doing arts and crafts with you IDC!! she may try and act like she hates it but she loves it deep down! she’s the same way when you ask to do her makeup. the only way she’ll tolerate you doing it is if you sit on her lap while you do while her hands rest on your waist/ass. (what if i said she would be feeling herself in the mirror after you’re done)

♱ as much as she loves solitude, she gets more clingy as the days go by! every single day she falls deeper and deeper in love with you and would do anything if it meant making you happy. don’t get it twisted though, she hates rollercoasters/amusement parks full of people so if you wanted to go, go with some friends girl…

now... *mariah carey voice* it's timmmmee 😫😫😜

NSFW:

♱ to start strong, DARE I SAY, sevika has a thing for titles during sex. *ahem* daddy kink (don’t kill me!!). i headcanon she didn’t bring it up first though! you may or may not have let it slip out while she was fucking you hard into the mattress. a single “f-fuck, daddy! right there!” and she’s pressing you deeper into the mattress as she slowly (but ROUGHLY) strokes her cock inside you. be prepared to repeat yourself when she asks, “huh? what did you say, baby?” + “what did you just call me?”. she calls you a “dirty fuckin’ slut” for wanting to call her daddy (she loves it).

♱ also, be prepared for the “who’s your daddy?” jokes because she thinks they’re HILARIOUS + refers to herself as “daddy” in the third person.

♱ eating you out is her favorite pastime! + loves the way you taste and cannot get enough.

♱ SHE 👏🏽 IS 👏🏽 AN 👏🏽 ASS 👏🏽 WOMAN. not to say she doesn’t love the rest of you but you’re always catching her staring at your ass and she is not ashamed! she will have that same “can’t look at my woman?” attitude. she will also come up behind you when you’re doing the dishes or laundry and will grope your ass and bury her head into your shoulder to inhale your scent.

♱ a giver!! she prefers to give instead of receive because she’s giving dom!top but… who said she would refuse you giving her pleasure? never that. sevika loves it when you ask to touch her! she pushes your head down when you’re eating her out like she’s throatfucking you. “fuck, baby, this mouth feels so fuckin’ good.” + “love this slutty fuckin’ mouth”

♱ makes you suck the strap before you take it… nothing further…

♱ she loves seeing you in lingerie and tells you to give her a “show” (stripping your clothes until you’re in your lingerie and giving her a lil dance 😵). she’s all like “this all for me?” + “bend over.” when you show her your little outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination.

♱ eye contact is important to her! she will force you to make eye contact with her as she’s fucking you and if you don’t…. “gonna stop if you don’t look at me, dollface.” + “look at me when i fuck you.”

♱ the dirtiest dirty talker of all dirty talkers OMG. it’s insane how nasty she can get with you but it makes you so needy for her! ↓

♱ “fuuuck this pussy’s so good to me, baby.”, “shits so fuckin’ wet, you’re dripping all over me.”, + “look how i’m stretching this fuckin’ pussy out”… and the list goes on.

♱ the dirty talk gets even more vulgar when you ask her to cum in you. breeding kink goes CRAY TO THE Z. ↓

♱ you’re all like, “yes! yes! c-cum in me, please, daddy!” + she’s like, “gonna fill you up, baby. gonna give you all this cum.” and “you gonna let me put a baby in you, angel?”

♱ she LOVES it when you’re rough with her. scratch your nails down her back! pull her hair! mark up her neck!

♱ sevika does love soft sex as well. she is a softie at heart DO NOT FORGET! as much as she loves to degrade you and throw you around, she loves to worship your body and kiss you all over! she loves to praise and tell you how gorgeous you are. “you’re so beautiful, baby, you know that?” + “you’re always so good for me, my good fuckin' girl."

hope you like anon!! thank you for the request! had fun writing this 😘

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hannyoontify · 4 months ago

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the way you said hello - kim mingyu

member | executive chef!mingyu x reader (ft. jeonghan & seungkwan)

genre | (implied) soulmates!au, meet cute, strangers to lovers au, fluff, (angst if you rlly rlly rlly squint)

word count | 2.8k

synopsis | after a disastrous blind date, the night takes an unexpected turn when the restaurant’s handsome owner, mingyu, steps in. what starts as an act of kindness quickly becomes something more as sparks fly over a chance meeting

warnings | cursing, lowk kinda suggestive if you squint, kissing, one (1) mention of a knife, mentions of mingyu having previous injuries sustained from his occupation, there is a SIGNIFICANT time skip at the end but i don't specify how much LMAO that's up to ygs discretion

notes | requested by anon! i'm so sorry if this wasn't the direction you wanted it to go in 😭 i swear i tried my best! lowk don't know if i like this or not but i really liked the bickering between oc n seunghan NOT PROOFREAD

this can be read as a stand-alone or as a sequel to this mingyu fic!

You anxiously bounced your leg under the table, gently gnawing on your bottom lip as you glanced around the fancy restaurant. Across from you, the chair in front of you had now been empty for an awfully long time now and something told you that your blind date had ditched, leaving you with the incredibly overwhelming and taxing bill.

Fuck.

You rested your head in your hands and let out a tired sigh. There was no way this was happening.

As you reached for your wallet, you flagged down a nearby waiter to ask for the bill. He nodded at your request and you let out what seemed to the umpteenth sigh of that night. While waiting for the bill to reach your table, you began rearranging the leftover peas on your porcelain plate.

“Didn’t know we had a Picasso in the house.” An unfamiliar voice remarked next to you.

You yelped in surprise and whipped around to see a tall, handsome young man peering over your shoulder with an amused smile. He was in a black button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his prominent forearm muscles, tucked into a pair of dark trousers. “That’s very impressive… is that a self-portrait?”

You snorted in disbelief, your shoulders shaking as you let out a quiet laugh. “No, it’s supposed to be my date. Too bad they left before I could remember what they looked like.”

The mysterious man scrunched up his handsome face, as if to say ‘Ouch’. “Do you mind if I—?” He gestured towards the empty seat in front of you and you nodded.

“Go ahead. That seat’s going to be empty for the rest of the night anyways.” You let out a bitter laugh. He gave you a sympathetic smile and situated himself in front of you with an arm outstretched reaching over the table.

“Kim Mingyu. I’m the owner and executive chef of this restaurant. I received a report that there was an attractive young person who was left on their lonesome after their date mysteriously disappeared.” The man, Mingyu, tilted his head. “Didn’t think said person was going to be this attractive though.”

You blushed at his compliment as you shook his hand. “[Name]. Not sure who snitched on me, though I’m glad to have new company.”

“Are you… on your way out now? Since your date is gone?”

“Yes, I’m just waiting for the bill.”

Mingyu waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

After spilling coffee on your blouse this morning and running 30 minutes late for work, you were more than positive that the day was going to end in disaster. The disappearance of your blind date following a very long, tiring day at work only confirmed those suspicions. However, it seemed like that the goddess of luck was no longer hellbent on making your life a living disaster with the way the stranger sitting across from you managed to douse out the fire that had been burning within you for the past few hours with a single smile.

“I’m afraid I’m not. But if you feel pressured or aren’t comfortable with it, no worries!” Mingyu said lightheartedly.

“Oh my God,” You ran a tired hand through your face and let out a dry, incredulous laugh. “You literally just saved me from having the worst day ever. I was preparing myself to break down into tears once I received the check. Thank you, I really appreciate that.”

He smiled at your words. “Of course, just doing my daily random act of kindness for a stranger. Although…” He trailed off and you quirked an inquisitive brow at him.

“Although?” You asked.

“Although… would it appall you if I said it was my way of shooting my shot?” Mingyu rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. His eyes nervously darted back and forth between your face and the half-eaten plate in front of him, left by your crappy blind date who was honestly, no longer in your realm of attention. Not when Mingyu was in front of you.

Shooting his shot? You felt your cheeks burn at a temperature similar to the candle perched on a candelabra on your table at his words and you coughed before fumbling to find the right words.

“I mean… I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Since you’re my savior tonight and all…” Your voice faltered and Mingyu beamed.

“That’s great! Here’s my business card, if you ever want to contact me.” He pulled out a crisp card and handed it to you as he got up from the chair. “Well, I must be getting on my way now. I’d love to stay and chat but I have big boss duties to do.”

Mingyu tipped an imaginary top hat towards your direction. You smiled. “It was nice meeting you, [Name].”

“It was nice meeting you too, Mingyu. I’ll contact you,” You waved his business card and he nodded.

“I’ll be looking forward to it. Bye, [Name].”

And with that he was gone, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his perfume and the fluttering of your heart.

“Just call him!!” Your best friend urged you. He was sitting on the other end of the sofa, munching on a bag of chips as he watched you metaphorically rip your hair out over the business card you received from Mingyu a week ago.

“It’s not that simple, Seungkwan! What if he hates me now because it took me so long to contact him? I bet he’s forgotten about me at this point.” You pouted and continued to stare at the worn, but still elaborate cardstock in your hands.

Seungkwan rolled his eyes. “Dude, you’re overthinking this entire thing. Listen to me,” He paused to fix his posture to face you. “He gave you the business card, right?”

You nodded.

“Did he ask for your number?”

You shook your head.

“Did he receive any kind of contact information from you?”

You shook your head again.

“But he gave you his business card? [Name], he literally served you the ball on a silver platter. He’s interested in you but won’t make any moves unless you do. The ball is in your court. Take that damn ball and BOUNCE IT!”

Seungkwan let out a frustrated yell and shoved another handful of chips into his mouth. “I swear, you have the IQ of Jeonghan’s pet rock sometimes.”

“Hey! Doljjong is very intelligent!” Your other best friend yelled from the kitchen. “He has really good hearing too, so don’t insult him like that or else you’ll be dealing with me.”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes and you laughed as Jeonghan came out into the living room to give his own two cents.

“But Seungkwan’s right. The entire fate of a whole new possible relationship with this mythical Kim Mingyu—”

“HE’S REAL. I SHOOK HIS HAND.”

“—is in your hands. Don’t blow it. Or else me and Seungkwan—”

“Seungkwan and I.” You corrected him.

“—will be—Okay, fuck you, grammar police—Will be taking this matter into our own hands so we no longer have to hear your bitching and whining.”

You let out a frustrated groan and threw down the business card that’s been putting you through pain and misery through the past week.

“God, he was literally perfect. I don’t wanna blow it and—”

“That’s what they said.”

“Jeonghan, I’m going to literally throw Doljjong into the bottom of Han River and you’re going to be joining him soon after if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

Seungkwan burst into laughter and watched you and Jeonghan continue to argue back and forth.

“Forget it, it’s useless talking to a person who believes that a rock can be a pet.” You got up from your spot on the couch and reached for your phone. “I’m stepping out for some air. Lock the door if you leave before I come back.”

“See ya, don’t wanna be ya!” Jeonghan yelled from the living room as you left the house and you loudly groaned.

You loved both your best friends but they sometimes drove you absolutely insane.

The sky was dark but the countless lights from the skyscrapers and streetlights illuminated the Han River, making the surface twinkle and shine under the pale moonlight.

You were sitting on a lone bench, facing the river as you mindlessly fidgeted with Mingyu’s business card. The edges were fraying from the countless amount of times you’ve handled it between your fingertips, and you traced the black lettering of Mingyu’s name with your index finger as you silently sounded out every vowel and consonant of his name.

Seungkwan’s words rang in your head. ‘He literally served you the ball on a silver platter. He’s interested in you but won’t make any moves unless you do. The ball is in your court. Take that damn ball and BOUNCE IT!’

Like a switch was suddenly flipped inside you, you reached for your phone. The screen lit up and you pulled up a new message to type in the phone number that was written on the card in your hand.

Without a single thought, you sent,

hey! it’s [name]!

Before you could even type the first letter of your follow-up text, the status of your message changed from ‘Delivered’ to ‘Read 21:24’ and you let out a gasp.

And then the loud, shrill ringing of your ringtone cut through the peaceful night air.

You gasped louder than before after seeing the caller ID, reaching to frantically turn off the ringer before answering the phone.

“He–hello?”

“Took you long enough,” Mingyu’s voice sounded crisp and clear on the other end of the line. You couldn’t see him, but you could almost hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. “You almost had me thinking that you were ghosting me or something.”

You let out an apologetic groan. “I’m so sorry, Mingyu. I got in my head and kept putting it off. I swear it wasn’t personal…”

Mingyu’s laugh was bright. “No worries! I assumed you had your hands full. Although, I did jump a little every time I received a text from anyone from the past week.”

“Oh, man… I feel horrible. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m telling you, don’t worry about it! Better late than never, right?” There was an awkward moment of silence before he spoke again. “What are you up to right now?”

You hummed and looked out at the tranquil water of the Han River reflecting the bright lights of the city. “Nothing much. I stepped out for a minute for some air. What about you?”

“Oh, really? I’m actually out for a walk too.” You swore you heard a second voice near you, echoing the words Mingyu was saying in your phone. “Turn around for me?”

You whipped around with the phone still pressed to your ear to see Mingyu standing behind the bench, a small smile playing on his lips. You ended the phone call.

“Mingyu?”

“‘Morning, sunshine,” He slid into the empty spot next to you and you scooched over to make more room for him. “What a way to run into the guy you’ve been ghosting, huh?”

You snorted at his greeting, ignoring the slight burn you felt in your cheeks from the nickname he had addressed you by. “I told you, it wasn’t intentional.”

Mingyu grinned. “I know. Just felt like teasing you.”

“What are- what are you doing here though? Do you live in this area?” You asked. He nodded.

“Yeah. I moved into that apartment complex not too long ago,” He pointed to a tall building on the other side of the river. “Has a killer night view. You should come over to check it out sometime.”

You choked on your spit, resulting in you barking out a short, panicked laugh. “Do you—-do you usually say these… these things to people?”

“No, not really. I’m not usually like this,” Mingyu looked over at you with a slight tilt in his head. The night breeze brushed his bangs across his forehead and you felt your breath falter at the way the closest streetlight illuminated his honey-like, gorgeous skin.There was a particular glint in his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak again. “Pardon me if this is too brazen, but I’m only like this when I feel like I’ve met the one. My soulmate.”

Your breath was caught in your throat.

“Does it… usually work?” You choked out. Your face felt incredibly hot and your clammy hands were sticking to the bench.

Mingyu turned back to face the river and your stomach did an odd flip. “I’m not sure. You tell me.”

Oh God. You thought you were melting on the spot with the way he was looking at you. Mingyu was holding eye contact with such intensity, you physically couldn’t look away. Your heart hammered wildly against your ribcage and you decided you were going to sign yourself up for the upcoming Olympics, with the way your stomach was doing flips like an Olympic gymnast. Simone Biles had nothing on whatever routine was going on inside you right now.

“… I’d give it a solid 8 out of 10.” You gave him the most nonchalant shrug you could afford, knowing that there were enough butterflies in your stomach to start a butterfly conservatory. Mingyu looked at you as if he was surprised by the score.

“Really? What would I have to do to win back the last two points?”

You gave him a pointed look, and the next words to leave your mouth almost sent you into cardiac arrest. “Hmm… live up to your words? I guess?”

And the smile Mingyu gave you in that moment was the brightest one of all. His entire being seemed to glow in ecstasy, glowing brighter than the streetlights as he looked at you with a suggestive glint in his eyes. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Mingyu?” You called from the living room. Mingyu didn’t respond and the only thing you heard from the kitchen was the clattering of plates and silverware. “Babe?”

Pushing yourself off the couch with a quiet groan, you padded over to the kitchen where your fiancé was busying himself with preparing dinner. He was hunched over the counter, his hands and trusty knife busy at work as he chopped away on his chopping block. Careful not to startle him when he had a knife in his hand, you snuck your arms around Mingyu’s torso and peered over his shoulder to watch him work his magic.

“Watcha doing?” You asked sweetly. Mingyu acknowledged your presence with a short peck on your forehead.

“Hi, baby.” His voice was rough and the sound sent shivers down your spine. “Preparing to feed you. Why?”

You hummed and nuzzled your face into Mingyu’s back. He smelled like a mix of spices, sweat, and his faint woody cologne permeated your senses. “Do you think we’re soulmates?”

Mingyu set down his knife and turned around to face you, his back resting against the marble counter with his hands resting comfortably at your waist.

“What’s with the sudden question?” He quirked a well-groomed brow at you and you smiled.

“Nothing… I just read a blog about soulmates and I was curious about whether you thought they were real,” Your fingers danced along Mingyu’s strong, muscular forearms, your fingertips lightly tracing all the old scars and burn marks that signified his experience and years spent working to master his craft. You repeated your original question again. “So… do you think we’re soulmates?”

Mingyu leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I don’t think so, love. I know so.”

“Really?” Your eyes brightened at his words and he nodded.

“Mhm. I knew from the moment I saw you playing with those leftover peas on your plate that I was going to marry you,” Mingyu leaned in again, nuzzling his nose against yours. You giggled. “Sometimes, I have dreams where I knew you in another life. But those dreams felt so… real. Like they’re fragments of memories from a past I can’t recall.”

“Are we married in those dreams too?”

“Mhm. We were happily married, just like we’re going to be.” Mingyu captured your lips with his, sighing gently as your fingers combed through his dark hair.

“I love you, Mingyu.” You whispered against his lips, like a secret only meant for the two of you to know. Something to be taken and hidden away, kept a secret in the deepest depths of the earth. A secret so sacred, it can only be cherished in the deepest, darkest places so that no one else can know.

“I love you too, [Name],” Mingyu’s love confession was more bold. Something he uttered with purpose and intention. He wanted the entire universe to know that he was yours. His heart belonged to you. He was going to love you loudly and boldly. “I’ll love you in every universe. Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow.”

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

a/n: this is a big personal FUCK YOU to writer's block AHGJSJD i somehow managed to push through and finish this 😭 (it was at 300 words when i started today) albeit it was on my phone, in the dark, at 1 in the morning BUT I FINISHED IT. n now my insomnia's back LMAOO

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vanteguccir · 6 months ago

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── ୨୧ !　SAFEWORD

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt comes home angry after a stressful day and takes it out on Y/N, making her use her safeword.

WARNING: SMUT ‼️ explicit language, p in v, Mean!Matt, rough sex, slight dumbification/degradation, pet names, hair pulling, use of safeword, crying.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Matt- please, I can't-" Y/N's body trembled under Matt's relentless touch, her breath hitching in her throat as waves of pleasure and pain intertwined in a cruel dance that had been going on for hours.

Matt had been different tonight; more intense, more demanding, more relentless. But beneath the surface, Y/N could sense the weight of something darker, something that had driven him to this edge.

He had returned from his day full of meetings with tension radiating from every pore, his usual warmth replaced with an icy determination that made Y/N’s heart race with equal parts fear and excitement.

She couldn't lie and say that she didn't loved how he pushed her, how he could make her body sing in ways no one else ever had, but tonight, he was pushing her beyond her limits. His hands were rougher, his words sharper, filled with a biting edge of degradation that made her cheeks flush with shame and arousal.

"Fuck, you’re such a dirty little slut." Matt growled, his voice rough, almost feral as he pressed her face into the mattress, his grip on her hips tight enough to bruise. "Look at you, so fucking needy. Is this all you’re good for? Spreading your legs and taking my cock?"

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, the sting of his words cutting deep. They had always enjoyed playing on the edge of roughness, pushing each other to the brink, but at that moment there was an edge to Matt’s tone that was darker, more vicious, and it scared her as much as it turned her on.

"Matt-" She gasped loudly, feeling his tip brushing against her most sensitive spot.

"Yeah, baby? You like being used like this, don’t you?" Matt continued, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. "Such a fucking whore, taking everything I give you, begging for more."

Tears pricked at the corners of Y/N’s eyes, her body barely keeping up with the intensity of his thrusts, each one sending shockwaves through her body, pushing her further and further into a headspace where all she could feel was him; his roughness, his anger, his need.

Her mind was a chaotic mess of conflicting emotions. She adored the way Matt had the power to dominate her, the way he could take control and make her feel small, vulnerable, but safe.

But now, there was no safety net, no gentle undertone to his words, no soft looks, or tender touches to remind her that this was just play. It felt real - too real - and it terrified her. She was on the verge of tears, her body betraying her as it responded to his cruel words and rough touch with mindless, desperate arousal.

"Answer me." Matt snarled, his hand fisting in her hair and yanking her head back, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, burning with an intensity that made her stomach twist with a mixture of fear and need. "Tell me what you are. Tell me how much you fucking love this."

"I-I love it." Y/N stammered, her voice shaky, barely audible as she tried to keep up with the relentless pace he had set, shuddering. "I love being your s-slut, Matt. Please..."

"Please, what?" He demanded, interrupting her, his lips curling into a cruel smirk as he watched her struggle beneath him. "Please fuck you harder? Is this not enough?"

Her mind was spinning, her thoughts tangled in the web of humiliation and desire he had woven around her. She had always trusted Matt, trusted that he knew her limits. But in that moment, she could see no sign of the man who held her after, who whispered sweet words of love and reassurance.

"You’re so fucking pathetic, doll." Matt muttered in a mockery tone, his hand traveling around her stomach, feeling a small bulge below his palm. A smirk stretched acros his lips before he pressed his hand down on her lower abdomen, making her gasp as the sensation of his cock filling her completely overwhelmed her. "Look at that, dove. You’re so fucking full of me, you can see it, yeah?"

Y/N couldn’t stop the tears that slipped down her cheeks, a whimper escaping from her throat and her body trembling with a mixture of pleasure and pain, her mind reeling from the intensity of it all. She could feel herself breaking, her mind teetering on the edge of something dark and terrifying. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

Her lower body tried to react for itself, moving relentlessly while trying to move away from his hands, away from his touch. But Matt didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He was lost in his own world, driven by something darker than either of them had ever encountered in their time together.

"Hmm, making me feel s'good, 'were only made for that... you’re not even good for anything else, are you? Just a tight little cunt for me to fuck until I’m so satisfied and-"

"Red." She gasped out, interrupting his sentence abruptly, her voice breaking as the safe word slipped past her lips. "Red, Matt. Please... stop. Please-"

As Y/N's shout registered inside his mind, Matt’s entire world ground to a halt. The haze of anger and lust that had clouded his mind evaporated in an instant, leaving him feeling cold and hollow. He stilled immediately, his breath catching in his throat as he processed what she had just said. The safeword; the one word they had agreed upon to stop everything if it ever became too much. And she had used it.

A wave of dread washed over him as he realized what he had done. He had pushed her too far, been too rough, and now she was lying beneath him, trembling, with tears streaming down her angel face. The guilt was immediate and overwhelming, threatening to choke him as he remained still inside her, his body frozen in place.

"Fuck." Matt whispered, his voice shaking with a mixture of fear and remorse.

He wanted to pull out immediately, to give her the space she needed, but he knew that would only cause her more pain. Instead, he took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him, and began to gently caress her body, his hands trembling as they moved over her tense and sore muscles.

"Shh, baby, I’m here." He murmured, his voice cracking as he started to stroke her back and shoulders, feeling the tight knots of tension beneath his fingertips.

He could see how red and irritated her skin was, the marks left by his rough hands and relentless pace, and it made him feel like the worst kind of monster. He wanted to cry, the weight of what he had done crushing him, but he held it together for her. She needed him to be strong now, to take care of her, and that was the least he could do after everything.

"I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N." Matt whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he continued to gently rub her sides, his hands gliding over her warm, tender skin. He pressed soft, apologetic kisses to her shoulder, feeling the salt of her sweat mingling with his lips. "I didn’t mean to hurt you, dove. I never wanted to push you this far. Please forgive me. I’m so, so sorry."

Y/N’s body was still trembling, her breath coming in shaky gasps as she tried to come down from the intense high he had forced her into. The feel of his hands on her, so gentle now, so careful, was a stark contrast to the brutal pace he had set before, and it was both soothing and heartbreaking at the same time. She could hear the pain in his voice, the guilt that was eating away at him, and despite everything, she wanted to reassure him that she was okay, that they were okay.

Matt’s hands continued their slow, tender exploration of her body, trying to soothe the aches and pains he had caused. He traced the lines of her muscles, feeling the tension slowly start to ebb away as she relaxed under his touch, though her body still quivered with the aftershocks. His heart ached as he observed her state, and he couldn’t stop the endless stream of apologies that flowed from his lips nonstop.

"I’m gonna slip out now, okay?" He whispered, his voice trembling as he pressed another soft kiss to her temple. He waited for her response, needing her to give him the okay before he made a move.

When she finally nodded, her eyes still closed, he took a deep breath and began to withdraw from her, moving as slowly and gently as possible. Despite his care, Y/N hissed in pain as he pulled out, her body still too sensitive, too raw from the hours of overstimulation. The sound made his heart shatter all over again, and he felt a fresh wave of guilt crash over him, his stomach twisting with self-loathing.

"Shit, I know, I know... I’m sorry, dove." He choked out, his voice barely above a whisper as he finally freed himself from her body, feeling the absence of her warmth immediately. "I’m so fucking sorry."

"It's alright. Just... Can you hold me? Please?" Her voice sounded so vulnerable, so small.

"Of course! Of course, sweetheart." Matt rushed his answer, laying by her side. He reached for her, pulling her into his arms and holding her close, his heart breaking at the way she winced as she shifted against him.

Y/N nestled into his chest, her body still trembling but beginning to calm as she felt his arms around her, his strong embrace a comfort after the storm. She could hear his heartbeat, fast and erratic beneath her ear, and she knew he was just as shaken as she was. Her own tears had slowed, though her eyes still burned with the remnants of the emotions he had dragged out of her.

"It’s okay." She whispered, her voice hoarse from the intensity of their session. "It’s okay, Matt."

But it wasn’t okay, not for Matt. He didn't know how she could say that when he, himself, couldn’t forgive himself for pushing her to the point where she had to use their safe word, where he had hurt her so badly that she had to stop him. The guilt gnawed at him, and he held her even tighter, as if he could somehow make up for the damage he had done by never letting go.

"I don't deserve you." He whispered again, his voice breaking as he buried his face in her hair, his body shaking with the force of his feelings. "I never wanted to hurt you, baby. Please, please, can you forgive me, angel?"

Y/N could feel the weight of his guilt pressing down on him, the way his body trembled with the effort to hold back his own tears, and it broke her heart. She knew he hadn’t meant to hurt her, knew that he had lost control in the heat of the moment, but she also knew that she needed to help him understand that she didn’t hate him for it; that she still loved him, and that they could get through this together.

"I forgive you." She whispered, her voice soft but firm as she lifted her head to look at him, her hand coming up to cup his cheek as if he was her most precious thing. "I know you didn’t mean it, Matt. We are okay. I’m okay. I promise."

Matt looked down at her, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, and he could see the truth in her gaze. She wasn’t angry with him, wasn’t pulling away from him. She was still here, still in his arms, and that was enough to start mending the cracks that had formed in his heart.

"Thank you." He whispered, his voice full of gratitude and love as he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, his hands stroking her hair, her back, anything he could touch to reassure himself that she was still with him. "I love you so fucking much, Y/N. I’ll never let it get like that again, I promise."

"I know you won’t." Y/N whispered back, her voice full of conviction as she curled into him, seeking the comfort and safety of his embrace. "I trust you, Matt. With my life."

He held her like that for what felt like hours, the two of them wrapped up in each other as the intensity of the night slowly began to fade, leaving only the love they shared.

Matt continued to murmur soft apologies and words of love, his hands never stopping their soothing motions as he tried to make up for the pain he had caused. And gradually, as the night wore on and the exhaustion of their emotional and physical ordeal set in, Y/N’s eyes began to drift closed, her body finally relaxing completely in his arms.

Matt felt her breathing even out, her body going limp against him as sleep claimed her, and only then did he allow himself to relax, the tension he had been holding onto finally slipping away. He pressed a final, tender kiss to her forehead, his heart swelling with love for the woman in his arms, and whispered one last apology before he too succumbed to the pull of sleep, his arms wrapped protectively around her as they drifted off together.

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godmadeaterribleerror · 1 month ago

Text

Still You Want Me

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, pregnancy, a little angst if you squint, pre-established relationship.

Summary/Warnings: Dean's fought the worst evil in the world, but only one thing has really managed to scare him. His pregnant wife.

Author's Note: Request from an anon!! I got emotional with it, and I'm very sorry about that but I couldn't help myself. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.9k

“We got three hours left.” Dean returned to the parked Impala, sorting through the bags in his hands. “But we can make it back in two if I-“

Sam shook his head, taking his bag of bird feed—trail mix, but the pointless kind without any M&Ms—from Dean with a frown. “Two’s a bit stretch, don’t you think? I mean even for you, Dean, and it’s not like we’re in a rush-“

“You’re not in a rush, Sammy.” Dean muttered, dumping the rest of the snacks in the backseat. “I got a pregnant wife who’s left me three voicemails about how she’s either gonna castrate me or give me head, and-“

“Gross, dude.” Sam walked around the car, making a scrunched bitch-face of disgusting. “All you needed to say was that’s she’s got mood swings-“

“Don’t call them mood swings.” Dean dropped behind Baby’s wheel, saying Her name with a sigh. “She hates that. And you can’t charm your way out of like I can.”

“I think I could.” Sam shrugged. “She likes me more.”

“She’s my freakin’ wife-“

“She loves you.” Sam grabbed his phone as they pulled out of the lot. “She likes me. I’ve never been threatened with castration-“

“Yet.” Dean muttered. “Cas thought he was safe until he got a shade of yellow that was too red for the nursery. I mean, yellow is yellow, Sammy, but she threatened to cut off his wings-“

Sam frowned. “I don’t think she could do that-“

“Trust me, man.” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “She’d find a way.”

Sam just nodded, because they both knew Dean was right. He was pretty goddamn sure that, if She wanted—or if Dean pissed Her off enough—She’d figure out how to send him somewhere worse than the Empty, bring him back, then start sobbing and apologizing on Her knees all within a ten-minute span. Then She’d probably give him a blowjob, he’d saying the exact wrong dirty talk, and she’d bite off Little Dean. Shit, he’d only been gone four days for the hunt, but half that time had been spent on the phone, reassuring Her he was being safe, the hunt wasn’t a part of any world-ending scheme from a new big bad, and he’d be home soon. The time that Dean wasn’t on the phone, Sam was, promising he wouldn’t let anything happen, that Dean was sleeping well and looking at the baby names list She’d sent, and that he’d called Eileen so she wouldn’t worry either.

Annoyingly, Sam had been keeping his promises to Her. Dean read the baby names list because Sam wouldn’t let him leave the table until he did, Eileen had gotten two calls, and Dean was being safer than he��d ever been in his freaking life. At this point, he was pretty sure the pregnancy was just one long scam to make him take care of himself. He was drinking and hunting less after Her breakdown that she’d lose him, driving a little slower—just a little, he wasn’t a blind old lady—after the ice incident got him the silent treatment for three days, and he’d even tried some of Sam’s rabbit food. He’d spat it out, but he’d tried it. For Her, for the baby, and because he was terrified for his life.

Dean loved Her more than every pie in the freaking universe, but She was freaking terrifying right now. She might be the only thing he’d ever really been afraid of. Planes he could avoid. Ghosts and monster he could kill. Hell, even Lucifer had been better. At least the son of a bitch hadn’t begged to give Dean a hand job, then started sobbing because Dean tried to move it to sex and they didn’t feel pretty enough for sex. And if Lucifer had done that, Dean wouldn’t have cared. He didn’t give a shit about Lucifer.

But he gave a shit about Her. Every time She cried it felt like someone was stabbing him, but he had less and less of a damn clue for how to help her the more pregnant She got. She’d said she felt ugly, he’d told Her she was beautiful, and that her tits looked better than ever, and She’d started accusing him of not loving her tits before. He’d missed one phone call and She’d sent Cas to teleport him home. He’d gotten the wrong candy bar and She’d had a breakdown about him not loving her enough to get the right one.

That last one was why the gas station had taken so long. Dean had triple checked every single snack he’d bought, and added a few extras just in case she changed Her mind. He’d even had Cas text him a second list after She’d told him all her requests over the phone, out of fear that he’d missed even a single one. Even now, on the road, he was running through everything one last time, because he’d gotten five different Gatorade colors, but maybe She’d want a sixth, or two of the same color, or only one color and he’d get yelled at because She didn’t even like orange-

“Hey!” Sam pulled Dean out of his thoughts with a shout. “Phone!”

“Wha-“

Sam said Her name, holding Dean’s phone in front of his face. “She’s calling you-“

“I got that.” Dean snatched the phone, shooting Sam a glare. “And that’s not safe, Sammy. Gonna get us fuckin’ killed-“

“Yeah, sure, Dean.” Sam just shrugged—even though Dean was right, that was dangerous—and nodded to the phone. “I’d pick up if I were you-“

“Shut up.” Dean muttered, ignoring Sam’s laugh as he answered the call. “Hey, baby, we’re-“

“Dean!” Her voice was a half-shriek through the phone, and Dean winced. “Holy shit, you’re alive, that’s good-“

“Course I’m alive, I promised I would be-“

“But it’s not up to you!” She was pacing. Her voice had grown frantic and high, so She was pacing. “Monsters don’t ask before they kill you, and they’d defiantly want to kill you, and Sam told me he’d take that bullet but I don’t want him to die either, and you’re both amazing hunters but if you die now, you can’t come back, and I’d miss you, I miss you now, why aren’t you home, you dick, I fucking hate you-“

Dean swallowed, saying Her name slowly as Sam snickered at his side. Asshole. “Take a breath-“

“Don’t tell me how to breathe, Winchester, I’ve been breathing my whole fucking life-“

“I know, sweetheart, I have too-“

“You’ve never had to breathe while pregnant-“

“And I’m not planning to, ever, but- just listen-“

“We should get you pregnant, it’s only fair-“

Sam started to cackle, Her voice loud enough he could obviously hear every word. It wasn’t really helpful.

“That’s not gonna happen,” Dean muttered, giving Sam a death glare that just made him laugh more. “Sweetheart, we’ll be there soon. I promise.“

“Okay, but don’t go too fast, if you’re far, because you promised me you’d drive carefully, and you need to be safer. I don’t want to lose you.” She started to sniffle. Shit. “I can’t lose you, De, I need you, the baby needs you, and Sam and Cas are cool but they’re not you and I want you and the baby wants you. It wants you more, it hates when your gone, it just keeps kicking me and if you die I’ll be a terrible mother with a baby who hates me-“

Dean snapped Her name, pressing the Impala’s pedal to the floor. He needed to be home soon. “Listen to me. I’m not gonna do anything stupid like die, and you’re never gonna lose me. Plus, our baby won’t hate you. It’s half me. It can’t.”

There was a slightly static hum from the other side, and Dean sighed.

“I know you miss me, baby, and we can get you whatever you’re craving, but-“

“I do miss you, De.” Her voice was soft and pleading through the phone.

But it wasn’t Her crying voice. That was her-

“I miss your cock, too. I miss touching you, and why is your bed so stupid and big-“

Dean chuckled, shaking off the whiplash. “Because I’m stupid and big-“

He could hear Her pout through the phone. “Don’t say that. You’re not stupid, and our baby’s gonna be a genius-“

“Because they’ll get their brains from you, pretty girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean leaned slightly forward, checking a highway sign. “Hour and a half, okay? Then I’ll be home.”

“Fine.” She mumbled. “I love you. Be careful.”

“I love you too, baby. And I’m always safe.” Dean waited for Her sigh, letting her hang up first. He’d learned to do that the hard way. “Not a word, Sammy, or I’ll shoot you.”

Sam raised his hands, palms up. “I didn’t even open my- got it.”

Dean turned his scowl back to the road, and he could be safe and get home in an hour. Both could be possible, and She’d never have to know that he’d been going 15 over the speed limit. And if She started to catch on, Dean could distract Her with his hands and dick and mouth, because—as hot as she was when she was pissed—Sam said stress wasn’t good for the baby.

They made it forty-five minutes of mostly safe driving—Dean’s hands gripping the wheel and listening to the music at a deafening volume, Sam texting Eileen and pretending he wasn’t bothered by the deafening music—before another incident.

Cas appeared in the back seat, said Her name instead of hello, Dean—already a bad sign—and looked almost genuinely scared. Dean had never seen his face do that before—red and sheepish like a child being scolded by a dinosaur—and it was a little off-putting.

He was used to Cas doing this enough to not swerve off the road, but he was still pissed. “Fucking hell, Cas, a warning would be nice-“

Cas frowned, then leaned forward, turning down the music. “Did you not hear what I said.”

“No, the music was on, I know you said-“

Cas said Her name again with Dean. “It was her message. I would, ah, prefer not to repeat it.”

Sam blinked, turning in his seat. “Why, is she-“

“She is well.” Cas’ eyes stayed on Dean in the rearview mirror. “She is feeling some very… confusing emotions. Towards Dean.”

Sam frowned. “Confusing? How-“

“She told me to relay to Dean that she hates him, and she hates hunting, and if he’s not home in forty-five minutes she’ll leave him, but she can’t leave him because she loves him more than life and she cannot live without him. Specifically his smile, voice, hands, stupid flirting that did this in the first place, and,” Cas swallowed, his voice dropping slightly as his face grew red. “Big cock.”

Dean smirked slightly—she was a menace, but damn it if he didn’t love his girl—as Sam paled next to him.

“By this,” Cas mumbled. “I assume she was referring to the baby. Which is in good health. I checked this morning.”

“Good. Thanks, Cas, but,” Dean sighed. “This could’ve been a phone call-“

“I was instructed to deliver it in person. To make sure you were safe, and driving carefully.” Cas leaned forward with a frown. “The speed limit on this highway is meant to be-“

“I know what the speed limit is.” Dean grumbled, refusing to ease his foot off the gas. “I’m tryin’ to get home, Cas.”

“I believe she would prefer you get home slower, rather than sacrificing your safety.” Cas let out a long sigh. “Although, I will admit I’d prefer you return quickly. I am not equipped to handle a pregnant woman alone, despite reading all of the books on the subject I could find. And, uh,” Cas said Her name with a red face. “Is frightening in this state.”

Dean sighed. “Thirty minutes, dude, can you hold down the fort-“

“He could take you now?” Sam cut in with a small frown. “Cas could zap you back to the bunker, and I could drive Baby home.”

“Sammy-“

Cas nodded. “I agree with Sam’s plan. If you could pull over, Dean-“

“I’m not gonna pull over!” Dean snapped. “I can get back just fine myself!”

“But I could-“

“You won’t always be there, Cas.” Dean grunted through his teeth. “I gotta be able to take care of my family by myself. Shit, I’m doing all the safety bullcrap for it, and I’m hunting less.” He said Her name, his grip on the wheel painful. “She’s gotta know I can take care of her, and the baby. I said I’d drive home, so-“

Sam cut Dean off a sigh. “Dude, she’s gonna care way more that you’re home with her.”

“Sam is correct.” Cas said, and Dean could feel his gaze through the mirror. “I attempted to make her breakfast this morning, and she started crying. When asked, she told me that you make it better.” Cas frowned. “It was cereal.”

“C’mon, man. Let Cas take you home.”

Dean glanced over to find Sam giving him puppy eyes—the bitch—and groaned. “Fine. But if I see one scratch on Baby-“

“You’ll kill me, yeah, I know.” Sam unbuckled as Dean pulled over, not sounding nearly threatened enough. “Let’s move.”

It took a minute for Dean to get all the snacks, but the moment the last bag was in his arms Cas grabbed him by the shoulder, the world because a spinning rush, and he was home.”

“Dean!”

He was barely on steady legs when She slammed into him, sending him stumbling slightly back as his arms wrapped around her, careful not to push too far into the baby bump.

“Hey, Sweetheart. I heard you missed me-“

“Of course I missed you, you asshole!” She pushed off of him, shoving his chest slightly. “Do you have any idea how many pies are just rotting in the fridge for you! You said the hunt would be fast, Dean, but I was stuck alone for four fucking days-“

Dean frowned. “Wasn’t Cas-“

“Cas doesn’t count!” She screamed, and over her shoulder, Cas didn’t look that offended. He’d probably gotten this outburst—and the following, tearful apology—at least twice already. “Cas isn’t you! He didn’t knock me up and then leave me-“

Dean thought about pointing out that he had not left Her, but thought better of it and let her keep shouting. She usually calmed herself down.

Usually.

“And Cas is an angel, and he’s been okay, and I feel so bad because I was such a bitch to him, but he deserved it! He wasn’t you! And I missed you and I hate you, Dean, I fucking hate you, why weren’t you home-“

Dean caught Her hands in his, pressing a gentle kiss to Her knuckles. “I’m home now, baby-“

“I know.” She whispered, crumbling in half a second into Dean, clinging to him like a koala. “And I missed you so much, De. I can’t do the laundry with this stupid bump, I can’t do anything, I’m useless and I’m a bitch and I think made Cas cry-“

“I’d pay to see you make Cas cry,” Dean muttered Her name, running a slow hand through her hair. “And you’re not useless. You’re growing a person, that freaking awesome and insane-“

She tilted her head back, pretty eyes glossy and wide on Dean’s. “But what if I mess it up? What if I fuck the baby up and you leave me-“

“I’m never gonna leave you.”

“But I’ve been mean-“

“You’re always mean, baby.” Dean grinned at her, letting his affection show in his voice. “And it’s always pretty freakin’ hot. And you aren’t gonna fuck up the baby, and I’m not gonna leave you, but,” he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “If you wanna make Sammy cry a little more, I think he’ll deserve it.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I’m not making Sam cry-“

“He said you had mood swings.”

She gasped, hitting Dean’s chest. “You’re a snitch-“

“Gotta spread the love somehow.” Dean shrugged, squeezing his hands on Her as he dropped his voice down. “But I can think of a few other ways, just you and me, to spread some better love.”

She flushed—already putty in Dean’s arms—and almost dragged him back to their room.

And this made it worth it. All the screaming and flying objects and threats, all the living in cautious fear in his own damn home, was more than worth it for this. Not just the awesome sex—sex was always awesome, sex with Her was better than almost anything, and sex with pregnant Her was what Dean imagined crack was like—but the way that, in the end, She smiled at him no matter what. She smiled and giggled and moaned, proving to Dean in a million ways both between the sheets and after that she didn’t really hate him, and he got to rest his head on her stomach and feel a small kick near his brow. Her fingers combed through his hair peacefully, all her noises made of content, and everything was more than worth it.

Worth pushing through the worst of the screaming and moods—just like She’d pushed through all of his world-saving bullshit—to see Her peaceful face as she slept by his side. Worth letting Sam drive the Impala just once, so Dean could get home faster.

Worth the family he was finally getting to have, and being here with them.

End Note: Sam Winchester once again being a true trooper in my stories.

Title from Next to Me by Imagine Dragons

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