#I’m not doing great today but I’m doing my best

[sstan-hoe]

𝐀𝐧 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — congressman!bucky barnes × journalist!fem!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — interviewing congressman James Buchanan Barnes didn't seem like a big deal, if he wasn't known for getting the journalists fired...but with you...he had other ideas...

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — SMUT: p in v, unprotected, fingerings, sir kink, kind dark, kinda not, not aftercare cuz I didn't write it, bucky barnes, yeah that's a warning, did I forget anything?

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — okay, yeah, I jumped in that train, but how could I not? We can all agree I'm fucking rusty, idk what this is, I didn't even know how to end it? Where is my writing talent, like look at this? well, feedback is appreciated but ehh yeah I understand if not haha, also no beta, English is not my first language, yk all that stuff

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the chaos that would follow in the next two hours. It was your first major interview, before all you did was write a few articles and do research. Therefore, you were even more anxious with the task you got from your boss.

Disappointing her was not an option but you knew how difficult today would be, in preparation for this moment you watched many interviews with the congressman. You observed actions of journalists he would criticise or how he would react to certain questions.

This way you were able to tell yourself it would be a great interview. All while hoping your boss was not searching for a reason to fire you and this was her way of getting rid of you.

You had set questions, which couldn’t be changed and some you weren’t even allowed to ask. So, a waterproof plan, right? Well congressman Barnes wasn’t known for his flawless interviews or his friendly answers.

No, he was rude and harsh. Many journalists before you had lost their job or swore to never interview him again – or more like weren’t allowed to come back. His answers were short and often left no room for arguments. If a reporter even messed up a tiny bit, he would immediately call them out on it.

Walking into the tall building felt like you would crumble under the pressure, everything was so massive and intimidating. Well, a place fit for a man like James Buchanan Barnes.

They checked your ID and instructions. Simply what to do and not to do, nothing new. Still, it felt like you committed a crime, after all the secruity never left you alone, which made sense as they wanted to make sure Barnes was safe.

Although, he could protect himself with that metal arm of his – also something you were under no circumstances allowed to ask about. The last one who did, has never surfaced again.

“You can sit there, he will be with you in five minutes,” a man with broad shoulders and blonde hair told you. He looked like the typical American golden boy, he did seem a bit scary, but you would bet he was a true sweetheart.

“Okay,” you answered, though he probably didn’t even hear you as he walked right out of the door again. It gave you a chance to take in the room, it wasn’t like the usual interview rooms you saw on TV, no it seemed more private and secured.

In hopes to be perfect, you set everything up. Everything had to align, the papers, the pen and water of course. You could not give him any reason to snap at you.

Just as you finished, the man of the hour stepped in with five secruity men. Barnes entrance came with an unstoppable aura, like everyone would cower under his presence and most of the time they did.

He glared at you, as if you had just called him an asshole – which you didn’t. You tried your best not to show him how much it bothered you, so you just smiled brightly at him.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes, I’m really honoured that you agreed to this interview,” you politely said once he sat down. “You’re welcome,” he answered, voice a lot deeper than you thought and awfully sexy. How could he be single? Also, a question no one was allowed to ask, but it was unusual for a congressman to have no partner…right?

He nodded at his men, and instantly they cleared out which confused you. “Aren’t they supposed to protect you?” you questioned, already regretting it.

“Yes, they are right in front of the door and the room has cameras everywhere,” he explained, voice monotone. Lightly he tilted his head, he gave every reporter three strikes – not telling them of course – and once they hit them, he would make them leave.

After knowing who would interview him, he did his research, and you were the first one he barley found any information on. You weren’t known yet, which was probably the reason they send you.

However it made him curious, the articles you had written so far were good – some even better than the ones of his previous reporters. Besides you were a lot prettier than them.

“Oh, yeah…that makes sense,” you nodded in agreement, trying to hide the fact that you still found it weird. “Okay, then we should start. I will ask you questions, and you answer them however you want, and-,” “I know how to answer questions doll,” he cut you off in a sharp tone, eyes quite dark.

Great, this was going fucking great, you told yourself, “I know, of course, I just…I’m used to doing it this way,” you tried your best to explain, keeping a smile on your lips. In response Barnes lifted his eyebrow, “you’re used to making the person oppisite of you look stupid?”

Couldn’t there be a fire, or an attack or anything? Anything that would make you end this interview, “no, no I’m not. We will just start, first question: not everyone is happy that you won the election, is there a way you want to proof yourself to them?”

“No, I won’t do anything. Everyone has their opinion, and they should keep it, I proofed myself enough, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here,” he answered, leaning back against his chair. You knew he had good answers but damn.

“Sounds good, I mean there was never a congressman everyone liked,” you agreed, writing his answer down. “Yes, thank you,” he said with sarcasm and only then you realised what you had actually said, with wide eyes you began apologizing, “I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just you know slang,” that what bullshit, it wasn’t slang you only needed an explanation.

“Slang?” he repeated, he knew you were nervous – everyone was – but he didn’t expect to enjoy it this much. You pressed your lips together, nodding along, “yes.”

“Next question,” you put a bright smile back on your face, “your term is rather young, but in this time, you already accomplished a lot, what are you most proud of?” For a moment there was a silence, it gave you a chance to take a closer look at Barnes.

Suddenly he had a small smirk on his lips instead of the normal stoic expression, you’d never seen him act any different in recent interviews. Maybe it was a good sign, maybe he wouldn’t end your carrier right after today.

“That every woman has the right of an abortion without fear,” he stated, crossing his fingers on his lap. You had no arguments there, it was truly remarkable.

Quickly you scribbled his answer down and checking the question off your list. “The other journalist had a recorder, are you not professional enough for that?” And there he was again, the friendly congressman everyone knew. It sounded almost as if he was taunting you.

“I am, just because I don’t fit your standard does not mean I’m unprofessional,” you snapped, then instantly clamping a hand over your mouth as you realised how you just spoke to the congressman.

Said person didn’t care, now he fully smirked with satisfaction, “so you actually can speak louder than a little mouse.” Oh, he looked so proud of himself for say that.

His words came unexpected, from your research you knew that he had a sharp tongue, but this was entirely new. From his answer you gathered he did it on purpose, but why would he want you to be rude? You could be reaching, but maybe your boss did want to get rid of you and asked him for help…okay that was crazy.

“Moving on,” you ignored his words, shaking your head a little as an idea popped in your head, if he could be an asshole so could you. “Many people wonder what happened with your arm, were you in the army or maybe an accident?”

“Come again?” he almost growled, features becoming dark and almost scary. Body moving a little forward, even though a small part of you was scared, you were extremely turned on.

You didn’t know what to say, should you really repeat it? Fuck it, yes. “What happened to your arm?” eyes staying on his, noticing how he flexed said arm.

“Becoming quite bold, are we? I remember this being a question you’re not allowed to ask,” he lifted his chin as if challenging you. This was exactly what he wanted, to see if you were really as shy as he read and he was positively surprised.

“I told you I’m not like the others,” suddenly you forgot who you were talking to, forgot how he was one of the most important and powerful people in the world.

Then he stood up, his huge body towering over you. Bucky rested his hands on either side of your chair, face dangerously close to yours. It was as if he could feel how nervous you became.

“No, you’re not…,” he whispered, hands taking yours and guiding you to stand up. As if in trance you followed him, looking up at him with big eyes.

“You’re far more beautiful,” he continued, letting his hands glide up your body to your face. Was this actually happening? No, you had to be dreaming, there was no other explanation.

You had no words, you were speechless, and your mind was running wild. Is that why he chose you? Because he wanted a quick fuck? As if he couldn’t get anyone, he wanted but you would surely not cave and lose your job – wait would you lose it if you did not sleep with him?

“This is unprofessional,” you stated, trying to move your chair a little further away from him. However, your words only made the man smirk with a devilish glint in his eyes.

“Who is to say we should not do this? There is no one with more power than me doll,” he whispered, closer than he was before. He would be lying if he said he didn’t do his research on you and if he would deny how captive, you held him.

Your work stood out, you really seemed to care the people you interviewed and wanted to give the audience a look behind the curtains. Every other reporter he had before was full of themselves, proud to be interviewing the congressman and only getting what was necessary.

His agenda may or may not have been unprofessional. But who could blame him? You were the prettiest girl he had ever seen, it was remarkable, and he wanted you.

“I’m not sleeping with you, I’m not some girl you can use to get off,” you continued, trying to stand up but Bucky gripped your waist instead. Was this truly your life? Of course, James Barnes was a walking god, but this felt like a situation right out of a romance book.

He chuckled at that, he loved how you played hard to get. “Sure,” he nodded before pulling you flush against his hard chest, reflexively your hands flew against his broad shoulders.

“Prove me wrong,” he challenged you, then pressed his lips against yours, tongue gliding along your upper lip. Caught up in the moment you accepted his tongue into your mouth, his kiss was hot and filled with hunger.

It felt like he was swallowing you and you hated to admit how damn good he felt. Not only his aura was screaming dominance but also actions did as he lightly bit into your bottom lip to keep your mouth open.

You moved into him, hands wrapping around his neck. With a heavy breath Bucky broke the kiss, wearing a satisfied smirk, “you seem to quite enjoy this doll.”

In response you rolled your eyes, “it is highly unprofessional, you should know this,” you tried to keep your voice hard, in order to convince yourself to not fall further into his schemes.

Again, he didn’t take you seriously instead he placed hot kisses along your collarbone, and you couldn’t help but let out a whine by the way his slight stubble was rubbing against your skin. It was rough yet set you on fire.

“Does that normaly work for you?” he questioned in between kisses, suddenly you sensed pressure just above your pulse. The congressman was marking you up, like you were his possession.

“What?” you asked confused, eyes fighting to stay open as you gripped onto his hair. In response he shook his head, continuing his way down your cleavage. Meanwhile he let his hand slide up to the collar of your blouse and without hesitation ripped it open.

His actions pulled you from your bliss, gasping loudly, “I just bought this one!” “Please, I will buy you a new one if you’re so attached,” he rolled his eyes, slipping your blouse off and revealing your black lace bra.

God, you looked amazing, if Bucky wasn’t on a time limit, he would take the time to worship your tits properly.

“No, no, no, I told you this is wrong!” you let go of him and put your hands on his chest to keep a distance. You couldn’t let this go any further than it already had, but the man in front of you was so hard to resist.

“Doll, if it’s wrong than why does it feel like the right thing to do?” he whispered against the shell of your ear, resting his hands once again on your waist, however now you felt the contrast of his warm flesh hand and cold metal hand.

Letting his metal hand move down to your thigh, he lifted your leg to pull you closer to him. The way he manoeuvred your body made you feel his hard erection.

You whimpered in order to supress a moan slipping from your lips, “Mr. Barnes,” you argued. He knew exactly what he was doing, “I like the way you say my name, so be honest…if you’re so against this, then why are you reacting this way, mhm?”

“Come on doll, tell me,” his lips ghosted over yours before he hosted you up completely. “Sir…please,” you tried again, voice cracking as you tried to stabilize yourself.

He chuckled walking towards his desk, laying you down on the hard wood. “That’s what I thought,” he grinned, kissing down your stomach to your heated core. You thought you would explode, the congressman was about to pleasure you, the same man who you were scared would fire you.

“Let’s see if I really don’t have any effect on you doll,” you got goosebumps from the way his hot breath hit your skin. Bucky opened your trousers, pulling them down your legs.

He hooked his fingers around your panties, revealing how right he was. “Look at that, you’re fucking wet for the congressman,” he sounded taunting, but you would bet he was satisfied with himself.

However, his words only made this moment feel even dirtier than it already was. You propped yourself up on your elbows and suddenly realised you were completely naked yet the man in front of you wasn’t.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit unfair how you’re still fully dressed?” you questioned with raised brows, not knowing you could muster up this much confidence at the moment.

“Do you think this is any way to speak to me?” his tone became dark, throwing your panties across the room. With one sentence he destroyed your confidence, “I’m sorry sir,” you instantly apologized which played right into Bucky’s cards.

Smirking he shrugged of his blazer, loosened his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt a little. It gave you a view onto his god-like chest.

“That’s a good girl,” he told you, pulling his tie over his head and stuffed it into your mouth. While it was extremely hot you felt a slight disappointment, “aww, don’t worry doll, you’ll get the chance to scream as loud as you need but not today.”

“Sadly, we’re on a tight schedule, so I will have to eat you out another time,” he said it like it was the most casual thing there was while you almost choked, there would be a second time?

His fingers traced along your cunt, spreading your juice over your skin, “feel how wet you are for me? And here you were saying that you didn’t want this,” he tsked, pushing his middle and pointer finger into your pulsing core.

You bit down on his tie, suppressing a moan and muffling his last name. Even in this situation you were too scared to say his first name.

“Squeezing my fingers huh, doll?” Bucky pulled his fingers from you and smeared his cock with your wetness. Then he undid his pants, letting his hard member free. Your gaze fell down to his cock, his leaking tip hitting his stomach.

You’d never thought you would say this, but he looked too pretty, and thicker than anyone you had before. “You’re so pretty,” you mumbled, your mind wasn’t function properly, so it didn’t even surprise you as those words left your mouth.

Bucky could barley make out what you were saying, he had an idea though and turned him on even more. With no warning he thrusted his cock inside your aching pussy, not caring if it hurt.

This time you couldn’t contain any sounds, you screamed loudly, clawing onto the wooden desk. “Feel me stretching you doll?” he smirked, pulling out but leaving his tip inside, just barley to tease you. Then he pushed in, with a hard pace he pummelled in and out of you.

You couldn’t help but clench around him, wrapping your lags around his hips which made him grin, “don’t want me leaving ya?”

Shaking your head you tried to keep the grip as tight as possible, he felt like heaven, he filled you perfectly and hit your sweet, sensitive spot in all the right ways.

His metal hand came down to rub circles on your clit, putting pressure on the sensitive bundle of nerves to drive you closer to your high. Given the fact he was still stronger than you, he had no problems moving with you pressing your legs against him.

In fact, it only made him enjoy it more. Your eyes rolled in the back I’d your head as you felt a shot if ecstasy crash through your nerves. Bucky was admiring how fucked out you looked, trying to hold onto one single though; him.

“I can feel you getting tighter doll, be a good girl and come...then you can milk my cock of every last drop,” he leaned down, whispering into your ear, flesh hand coming up to your throat to keep you in position.

“I can’t-“ you whimpered, it was too much, never before had you felt this much pleasure, never before was anyone able to make you come with his cock.

“You will, slut,” the congressman growled, demanded. This was exactly the man you feared just moments ago. Now you felt different, now you wanted to make him proud.

“Yes, sir,” you caved, letting everything happen, let the tight knot in your stomach explode. You tried holding onto his wrist, but your grip slipped.

With satisfaction Bucky fucked you through your orgasm, know it would push you even further into submission. He bit his lip, trying not to let out a strangled groan at the way you gripped him like a vice.

Seeing you have you climax made him sure to follow you suit, roads of white cum painted your swollen walls. It took everything in him to keep moving, to make you would get every last drop of him. “I could get used to being interviewed by you, doll,” he grunted, slightly tighting his hold on your throat.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, too overwhelmed with the situation. What had he done to you? Why did he give you an amazing orgasm ? What would happen now?

It was too much running through your brain, you just needed a nap, just for five minutes.... “Oh, doll, this was just the beginning.”

told ya, shit ending

[mangooes]

Baking 101 : How to train your Husband

(Name) should have known this was a bad idea.

“Alright, husband,” she clapped her hands, standing proudly in their spacious kitchen. “Today, you’re going to learn how to bake.”

Sylus, standing beside her in a black apron that said ‘Kiss the Cook’ (which she forced him to wear) with his shirtless bare chest shown, crossed his arms, unimpressed. “I don’t see why I have to learn this when I have you to do it for me.”

She rolled her eyes. “And what happens if one day I’m busy and you desperately crave sweets? Are you going to call me in the middle of an important meeting just to demand cookies?”

Sylus did not answer.

“…Oh my god, you would.”

Sylus smirked, shrugging. “Sweetie, I get what I want.”

She groaned before pushing a bowl of ingredients in front of him. “Not today, mister. Now, first step—crack two eggs into the bowl.”

Sylus took an egg and, with all the grace of a man who had never done this before in his life, smashed it against the bowl with unnecessary force.

The egg exploded—yolk dripping down his fingers, shell fragments everywhere.

She wheezed.

“SYLUS—”

Sylus, completely unbothered, simply grabbed another egg and did the exact same thing.

“Stop! Stop! Oh my god—” She snatched the eggs away from him before he could cause more destruction. “Do you think you’re cracking skulls or something?! Who cracks eggs like that?!”

Sylus, deadpan, wiped his hands on a kitchen towel. “I thought it was supposed to break.”

“Not violently!” She dramatically wiped fake tears. “My poor eggs. They didn’t deserve this.”

Sylus rolled his eyes, but there was an amused glint in his crimson gaze. “Alright, oh great maste chef. How do I crack eggs properly?”

She demonstrated, gently tapping the egg against the edge of the bowl before smoothly breaking it open.

She handed him another. “Now, try again, but gently this time.”

Sylus sighed, mimicking her movements—this time, he did it right.

She clapped proudly, ruffling his hair. “See? Good boy.”

His eye twitched. “(Name)”

“What?” she smirked. “Are you gonna bite me?”

Sylus did exactly that—leaning down and nipping her neck, making her squeal and slap his arm.

“SYLUS!”

“You provoked me, kitten.” He smirked, satisfied at her flustered expression.

She shoved him. “Shut up and mix the batter.”

Sylus obeyed, grabbing the whisk. However, instead of stirring, he just poked the batter with it.

She stared. “…Are you serious?”

“What?”

“Stir it.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re… oh my god, Sylus, you are not supposed to stab the batter like an enemy.”

Sylus, expression blank, continued poking it aggressively.

She facepalmed.

She walked up behind him, placing her hands over his to guide him. “Like this,” she murmured, moving his hands in slow, circular motions.

Sylus, for once, actually followed her lead, though his smirk returned when she didn’t move away.

“…You just wanted an excuse to hold my hands, didn’t you?”

(Name) immediately let go. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Shut up and mix the batter!”

Sylus chuckled, finally stirring it properly.

After a while, they managed to put everything together—somehow, despite the chaos. The cookies were in the oven, and the kitchen was only half a disaster.

(Name) sighed in relief, wiping flour off her forehead. “Well, congratulations. You have officially survived your first baking lesson.”

Sylus leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Hmm. I suppose I should reward myself.”

“Oh yeah?” (Name) arched a brow. “With what?”

Sylus smirked. “A kiss from my lovely wife.”

She snorted. “That’s not how this works.”

But before she could protest further, Sylus snatched her by the waist and kissed her anyway—flour-covered hands and all.

She yelped, trying to push him off. “Ew! Sylus, your hands are all messy—”

Sylus, grinning, only kissed her again.

“Now you’re messy too, sweetie.”

Not my best work but i promise i have an interesting chapter for tmrw! :)) DDKSNDKJ SORRY FOR THE SHORT ONEE

[terraswallows]

Had an encounter today with a transphobic asshole.

So, this guy—big neckbeard looking dude, reeked of sweat and cheap deodorant. Like i mean full neckbeard, beer belly, sunglasses, the works—walks into the store where I work wearing a "Make America Great Again" hat while waiting for his family to buy a chess set. I know the family; they’re super chill, but apparently, this guy is their uncle or something.

While I’m ringing up the chess set, the mom compliments my nails and asks where I got them done. We’re chatting when this guy walks over and, with zero hesitation, says, "Real men don’t get their nails done. You one of them faggit types?"

I was so caught off guard that I barely had time to react before the mom nervously tried to brush it off, telling me to excuse him for being rude.

After taking a moment to collect myself, I just smiled and said, "It’s fine, these things happen. And you’re right—real men don’t get their nails done. But I’m not a real man. Well… not really. I’m actually transfemme."

His face twisted in confusion until his eyes landed on my trans flag belt. That’s when his expression shifted.

Before he could say anything, the mom smiled at me and said I looked wonderful. But then the guy grunted and muttered, "Ugh, it’s one of them. No wonder… I’m glad he’s doing what he’s doing. You people need to be stopped."

I was still processing that garbage when the mom apologized again, quickly packing up the chess set in a bag she’d brought. She said they’d be leaving now since they didn’t want to cause a scene.

But of course, the guy wasn’t done. He kept going: "You know, he’s right. Your kind really is a problem. We can’t have you corrupting our kids."

Through clenched teeth, I gave him my best customer service smile and said, "Everyone’s entitled to their opinion. However, I’m going to have to ask you to leave." Then I turned to the woman and said, "I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I hope you have a wonderful day."

The guy tried to keep ranting, but the mom snatched his hat off his head and dragged him out of the store, muttering under her breath about how he just had to do this here, on her kid’s birthday, of all days.

Later, my boss came over and asked if everything was okay. I nodded, but honestly? It’s infuriating. The same hate is spreading here, too (for context I live in South Africa). The bullshit happening in America is bleeding into everything and everywhere.

[abbyslovergirlxo]

Glute Day

GymRat!Abby x ChubbyFem!Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Synopsis: You’ve been going to the gym with Abby for a few weeks and you swear your ass is getting fatter! Abby thinks so too but she needs a closer look to make sure :)

Warnings: mdni, wlw, masochism (sorta), sadism (sorta), strap usage, crying, hair pulling, lotsss of pet names (r!recieving)

Wrote this on my break, hope yall like it!💕 I figured I’d finally write for Abby since she’s my username 😂 also I’m currently working on Same Damn Time pt2 🫶

Working out with Abby always left you weak and wobbly. She was the biggest girl at the gym after all, she knew how to do a workout. For months prior she’d casually ask you if you’d like to join her. You’d never thought much of it, she loved your body (a little too much). Abby truly would find any reason to spend time with you so you figured she simply wanted your company.

“ Leaving out soon baby, think you wanna come?”

“ You feeling the gym today cookie? I’m doing arms. Your favorite.”

Although enticing at times, it seemed she always caught you when working out was the last thing you wanted to do. So for awhile she stopped asking, opting to giving you a quick kiss on the forehead and heading out with her green gym bag and black compression shirt.

And then finally one day she heard those magic words.

“ Abs…do you think I could go with you today?”

The grin that spread on her face was so full that it spread to you, your cheek burning. She was quick to give you a kiss on the forehead, her arms wrapping around you and squeezing in just the right position that her bicep dug into your arm.

“ Abso-fucking-lutely babe, you can come with me whenever. I don’t have a split for you yet but you can shadow me and do some beginner workouts. That sound good?”

You nodded, but honestly in that moment the only thing you were thinking about was how good she smelled. Besides, you thought, it can’t be that hard. You’d just trail along, lift a few weights and watch your hot girlfriend bench twice your weight. Sounded like a win-win to you.

Wrong.

Fast forward a few weeks later and you were slightly regretting your decision.

Well, undoubtedly watching Abby proved to be as good as you thought. Her face would scrunch as she groaned through each set. Straight up fucking porn if anyone had asked you. But then came the actual working out. A few sets with Abby was enough for you to know that this was going to be hell. Your arms would throb, even with the five pound weights! And she was effortlessly lifting 60 pound dumbbells, what the hell! But you just couldn’t pass on the words she spoke to you. Abby talked you through it like no other.

“ Great job babe, right there. You feel it right here, right?”

“ Justtt a little more, you’ve got it.”

“ It’s okay baby, I started off with those too.”

“ Spread your feet a little more…yeah just like that. Look at that, a natural.”

“ Best spotter in the whole word sweetheart.”

Then came leg day and every glute workout was somehow just crucifying your back. You’d complained to Abby so many times and sometimes she’d be able to get you engaging your glutes but it was just never consistent. But seemingly one day your body got on board, your form improved and you were feeling it in every part of your ass. By week three you even could’ve sworn that you’d seen a little difference! Swear!

Your first mistake though, was telling Abby this because suddenly she too swore she saw a difference. You should’ve known by the way she was staring at you, eyes fixated and smile wicked. But you were far too fixated on the mirror in front you, constantly shuffling your legs and switching positions to see as much as you could.

“ You sure Abby? I mean I feel like I can see it but now I’m second guessing. Maybe it’s just the glute pump.”

You had worked your glutes just the day before and they were as sore as ever. Abby didn’t bother to tell you that glute pumps don’t last that long, she didn’t care to. She was too focused on the way your leggings clung to the pudge of your stomach and ass.

“ Now that you mention it, I’m not sure. How about you come over here so I can see a little better honey.”

Oblivious to the way her hand was just itching for you to waltz over to her sitting on the bed, you frowned at the mirror for just a second. Without thinking you walked over to her.

Terrible idea.

“ C’mon baby…hahh— keep the arch f’me.”

You whined, the feeling of her thrust sending you into a drooling frenzy. But your body almost involuntarily dropped lower just at the simple command of her voice, earning you a harsh slap to your ass. She smiled at the red print that her hand left, now adding to all the other marks she’d given you.

“ n-nghh! abbyyy…”

She hummed, tracing the bite mark on your left cheek gently. It was quite a contrast to how mean her hips were being to you. You were so sure you could feel her right in your stomach. But every time you’d tell her that she’d just give you faux sympathy and tell you how good you’re taking her.

Abby was sure she could look at this image of you forever. She couldn’t find a single reason why it wasn’t the most beautiful thing in the world. Your arch was like heaven to her, the rolls of your back and fat of your ass rippling. It reminded her of art. Except nothing about the way you sounded or looked was left to interpretation.

Every whimper and cry was so telling. Every tug at her wrist, dragged whine of please please pleaseee and toe clench made it pretty obvious what she was doing to you. And Abby saw it to be no less than a fucking honor to be the one in between your legs.

“ o..god— hurtss…”

She groaned, watching as you tried to slow her hips with your hands. Pathetically you pushed at the black harness but it only made her smile. Gently, she grabbed your hands with one hand, pressing them into the curve of your back making you cry her name again. Abby nearly keeled over at the way you grew louder.

Like the secret sadist she was, she found it to be so addicting knowing your ass was burning with every thrust. Knowing that everytime you were crying was because of the workout regimen she made just for you.

She leaned down suddenly, the pace of her hips inhumanly thrusting at the same speed. Only now it sunk deeper from this angle making a choked sob leave your throat and reach her ears like a melody.

She trailed kisses from your neck, the sweat only making her want to kiss you more. She trailed around till she was right next to your face.

So pretty, she thought. So loud.

“ h—hu…”

She kissed the side of your cheek, causing your stomach to somehow do more flips. Her braid was undone by now, the waves of her blonde hair colliding with yours, small strands ever so slightly tickling your back.

“ shh I know cookie…hurts so good right?”

Two more iridescent tears fell down your face, your breath caught in your throat. Your mascara painted your eyes, cheeks flushed and hair messy. But to Abby, this was the prettiest you’ve ever looked.

“ yess…so good!”

“ yeah?”

Suddenly she was back upright, secretly missing the view of your ass hitting her skin. You immediately clung to the sheets the moment you felt her hands release your arms. Besides, Abby found something way better to mess with. She used both of her hands to squeeze your ass making your eyes roll back at the sharp pain.

“ yeah baby, it’s definitely fatter.”

She used hand to wrap around and draw sticky circles on your clit.

“ my sweet girl, always taking me so well.”

Spoken too soon because not even a second later you were pulling at the sheets, crawling towards the other end. She clicked her tongue at you.

“ aww, now that’s not sweet of you. come back mama.”

Without even waiting for you to listen she decided to move you herself. You mewled when she gripped your hair, the evidence of all those 60 pound weights showing in your scalp. Instantly you were dragged back, more tears cascading down your face. White spots started to blur your vision. That feeling in your tummy was growing so intense that you thought you might pass out.

But Abby was right there behind you, gripping your beautiful hair, ready to get you where you needed. You tried to speak, to say anything, to warn her. But she already knew. She always did.

“ shh it’s ok, you’re gonna cum soon babe. be sweet again and make a mess for me.”

She smiled as you did exactly that, your body shaking like a leaf. The sounds you made were so damn filthy but it didn’t compare to the filthy scene of you leaking onto the strap. She whispered “my filthy girl” over and over as she fucked you through it until she let go of your hair and let you collapse on the bed.

She slowed her thrust until she simply sat inside of you. You struggled to breath as she left kisses all along your back before she remembered how pretty your breast were. She flipped you over with her still inside, leaving dark marks all over your breast and chest. She trailed down to the fat of your stomach, leaving a bite mark near your belly button.

“ Think you can give me one more? Really gotta make sure we work those muscles.” She murmured into your skin.

You looked down at her.

“ just o-one?”

She hummed.

“ Just one cookie.”

She was lying.

After that day you never missed leg day. And ever since that day Abby made sure to fuck you the day after

[bookuce]

CHANGE MY MIND

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it. 

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, and Alina is Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 4.2K

PART THIRTEEN

PART FOURTEEN

  After twelve hours of touring house after house, Alina was thrilled to be back in the comforts of her home. When Josh and Alina stepped off that red-eye flight to Atlanta, they were preoccupied with finding Josh’s next home. They saw five houses today, the only ones Alina seemed interested in the most. It shouldn’t have taken so long to do, but with Atlanta traffic, what should have been a four-hour outing turned into more. 

They’d enter the quiet house, dragging their feet across the hardwood floor. They’d drop their suitcases at the front door, leaving them to be tomorrow’s problem. Alina plops onto the couch, kicking her shoes off in the process. A small groan would leave her lips as she relaxed into the cushions beneath her. She wouldn’t make it up the stairs–at least not willingly. Through half-open eyes, Josh watched Alina sprawl out on the couch, shifting his weight onto each foot as he removed his shoes.

“You don’t want to get in bed?” He asks, moving towards the couch. Alina opens her eyes at the question, turning her head to watch her boyfriend.

“I’m not going to make it.” She confesses, getting a half-grin from him. 

“Move over, then.” He says, laying his entire weight on top of her. A small, muffled squeal would come from the woman at the action as she turned her head to the left to get his curls out of her mouth. Her melodic laugh echoes through the room, her left hand covering her mouth immediately. Josh would wedge his thick leg between her own, spreading hers so that he could get comfortable. He adjusts his body more, letting his right arm lay at her side. Once he settled, she’d turn her head to look at him, a grin on her lips. His eyes are shut, dancing behind fluttering eyelids. 

“If you don’t move off me,” she says.

“Mm-mm,” He hums, shaking his head at her. “This the best spot in the house.” His voice was low and raspy, vibrating her small frame as he spoke. His body is a comforting warmth on her, acting almost like a weighted blanket. She giggles at his answer. “Forreal.” He added before plunging the pair back into silence. Alina took this moment to study her man’s features, much like she usually did when he was sleeping near her. She’d lift her free hand, placing her thumb on his right brow. She brushed the fine hairs of his brow before fully laying her hand on his cheek. She moves her head to press two kisses to his lips. “Whatchu doing?” He asks.

“Nothing,” she answers, letting her thumb caress his cheekbone. Her eyes skim his face before her hand continues on its travels. Her index finger lightly drags down the bridge of his nose, causing his face to twitch at the sensation. “What did you think of the houses we looked at today?” She asks. 

He hums at her question, informing her he is still with her in the land of the conscious. “They were nice.” He answers, his hand latching onto her hip. Slowly, his thumb began caressing the skin beneath the t-shirt she had on. She’d shrink away from his touch, a single breathy laugh escaping. He wasn’t trying to tickle the woman, but his touch was doing that. “The one at…” He takes a moment to think about the house. “Ridgecrest was nice.” He answers finally.

“Oh, that one was nice.” She chimes in.

“Which one did you like?” He asks. Alina’s hand moves to his beard, her fingers opening and closing. He had trimmed it low recently, wanting to not have so much on his face. She was still on the fence about how low it was. She enjoys the fullness of his beard and the greys that shine through. It complemented him well.  

“For you?” She asks.

“For us.” He corrects. “Quit playing with me.” He mutters, making her giggle at his words. 

“The one at Ridgecrest was very pretty.” She answers, agreeing with his choice. “The one at Madison was too–They all were, really.” After all, she was the one that chose the houses. Josh’s thumb would pause on her warm skin at the answer.

“So you like the Madison one?” He asked.

“I liked all of them.” She replies, trying to avoid choosing a house for him.

“But can you see yourself in any of ‘em?” He asks, opening his eyes finally. Alina watches him for a moment before shifting her eyes to the right. She purses her lips at the question. She’d emit a small hum before shrugging slightly. 

“Can you?” She asks. “With me aside.” She adds, knowing he’ll say something that includes her in the answer. She lifts her hand, her index finger trailing his hairline. The tiny curls would wrap around her finger as it passed by. 

“Mm-mm,” He shakes his head, making her pause.

“No?”

“Nope.” He answers. Alina quirks an eyebrow at him. “Put that eyebrow down.” He says, removing his hand from her side and placing it directly on her face. Her hand leaves his face, wrapping around his wrist.

“Boy–!” She exclaims, pulling his hand from her face. Josh lets out a chuckle, full sets of teeth on display. “You got one more time!” She repeats. 

“You ain’t going to do shit.” He tells her, tilting his head up at her. A smile spreads across Alina’s face at the sight of him, forcing her to look away. That’s what I thought.” He mutters, closing his eyes again. As soon as he settled on her again, the doorbell rang, causing Josh to sigh softly. Alina laughs at his sigh, tapping the back of his shoulder for him to get up. For another second, he doesn’t move, remaining in his spot.

The doorbell will ring again, urging the couple to answer it. “Go get the door.” She says, making the man get off of her. Josh lets out a loud, heavy sigh, making Alina laugh at his dramatics. He rises off the couch, slowly making his way to the door. “You’ll be okay.” She assures him.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” His hand wraps around the deadbolt, twisting it to unlock it before unlocking the doorknob. He pulls the door open, his eyes landing on the people on the other side. Josh’s eyes shift from the man down to the woman, his lip slightly curling at the sight of them. “Lina.” He calls, not taking his eyes off the people before him.

With furrowed brows, Alina rises from the couch, quickly making her way over to the door. “Who is it?” She asks. Josh would step back, letting the door open wider for her to see. Her eyes would spot Michael first, stopping her briefly in her tracks. Her steps slowed as she moved by her boyfriend, and her eyes finally landed on Tasha. Words would catch in her throat at the sight of her friend whom she hadn’t spoken to or seen in over a month. 

Tasha’s lips part slightly at Alina, a small breath leaving her lips at the sight of her friend. Alina glances away from her, her eyes shifting to the floor. “Can we come in?” She asks finally, gaining Alina’s attention again.

“Yeah,” she answers. “Yeah.” Alina steps back from the door, allowing the couple the space to enter the house. She turns to face Josh, who’s watching her face intently. He takes a few steps back, opening the door wider. The couple enters the house, walking over to the couch Alina and Josh previously laid upon. “Sorry for the mess,” Alina apologizes suddenly, glancing around the room embarrassingly. “We just got home a few moments ago.” She explains.

Tasha’s timing was impeccable…and somewhat questionable. Did someone tell her they were home? Why wasn’t she at least given a heads-up if they did? An even better question would be why the woman sitting in her living room was doing a pop-up. Josh closes the door behind everyone, sealing them off in the privacy of their home once more. He shortly joins Alina, who stands in the middle of the room. Her arms are folded across her chest, a sure sign that she is uncomfortable. He places his hand on her back, causing her absentmindedly to lean into his thick frame.

“It’s okay,” Tasha answers, offering Alina a slight grin. Michael remained standing, his hands tucked into his pant pockets. He takes a few steps forward, his eyes locking with Josh’s.

“You want to give the girls some privacy, brother?” He asks.

“Nah,” Josh interjects, shaking his head. “I’m part of the reason why she was mad at her, to begin with,” he says. Michael would grow silent at the response, taking a step back. He sits by his wife, taking her hand into his own to comfort her.“You want to sit down?” He whispers to Lina, letting his fingers travel up and down her spine. Without a word, she’ll move over to the second couch, sitting at the edge of the second cushion. Josh moves to sit behind her, tapping her to sit back against him. Instinctively, she scoots back, her back hitting his side. She pulls her legs up onto the couch, curling them beneath her body. 

“So, how’ve you been?” Alina asks, offering her guests a friendly smile.

“Good,” She answers. “We’ve been good. You?”

“Same,” Alina replies with a nod. The room would become quiet as the two old friends watched each other, wondering who would speak up first. Alina half-expected Tasha to speak up, considering she showed up unannounced on her doorstep, but it didn’t look like that would happen. Their significant others glanced at each other before gazing at their women. Neither man wanted to force the conversation, but they’d be here all night at this rate. That won’t work for Josh—he was trying to go to bed soon. Two weeks on the road, living out of a suitcase and a hotel room, and twelve hours outside today had Josh hoping this meeting was short.

Though he trusted Alina could handle herself, he didn’t want her to have to do something like this alone. She didn’t like what was happening, and they’ll talk about it later. “Tash–.” Alina starts.

“Lina–.” Tasha begins with a shake of her head. “Why didn’t you tell them about each other?” She asks.

It would take Alina several seconds to answer the question. Josh’s eyes were fixated on the back of her head as he patiently waited for her reason. They never dove into what happened at the wedding. They just wanted to move past it, which they did. He knew this conversation would happen whenever Tasha was ready, but he couldn’t imagine how it would go down. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” She answers quietly. “Theo and I haven’t been together in ten years–We don’t talk, you know this.”

“But if you know how Theo–.”

“No,” Alina cuts her off, lifting her hand to silence her. “He has never acted like that before.” Theo’s jealous behavior that day made him unrecognizable to her. “I don’t know who that was.” She finishes.

Tasha would avert her eyes to the floor, sucking in a slow breath as she did so. “I feel like a conversation should have been had whether you talk to him or not.” She says.

“After ten years, Tasha? I don’t owe him anything.”

“That’s your ex.”

“And that’s your friend,” Alina says, her voice raising slightly. She points at Michael. “That’s your boy; you should have told him what was up long before your wedding day. Josh has been here, whether we were together or not, he has been here.” She says, placing her hand on Josh’s knee. The room falls into silence, the tension growing by the second. Alina’seyes flickered between the pair before settling on Tasha’s again. “Have you talked to him?” She asks, now curious. “Because it sounds like you are trying to pin this all on me, and if that’s what’s happening…” Her words catch in her throat behind a rapidly forming lump. Surely, that wasn’t what was happening. Tasha wouldn’t do that to her best friend, right? Right?

“We just feel–.”

“Oh, so you haven’t.” Alina laughs in disbelief. “Okay.”

“Lina,” Michael calls her attention to him. “We just feel like this could have all been avoided–.”

“If I would have said something. Right, right.” She nods. “So, it’s my fault, is what you’re trying to say. You have talked to Theo, or maybe you have, and this is your way of letting me know you’re siding with him instead of the person you’ve known since you were little.”

“Now, that’s not fair, Alina.”

“And this is!?” She exclaims. “Why are we acting like it’s new information that Theo and I don’t talk? You both knew this. You’ve known this! When have I ever willingly talked to that man after he cheated on me, hm?” She asks, leaning forward. “The fuck I look like being in that man’s face after he got a bitch pregnant, Tasha?”

“Lina,” Josh says, his fingers grazing the back of her arm. She pulls her arm away from him, ignoring his attempts to calm her down.

“I’m only cordial with that man because he is your friend. He is nothing to me. I don’t talk to him unless I have to, and last time I checked, who I’m fucking is none of his concern. He got mad because I told him I didn’t want him, so he picked a fight.” She says. Alina’s ears gradually warmed at the conversation happening. She was baffled at what she was hearing. One month of silence and ignoring her, and this is what they come to her with? 

“Got that ass whooped too,” Josh mutters. 

“That’s whose face you need to be in, not mine.” She adds. Tasha scoffs at Alina’s words, leaning back slightly. She shakes her head at the woman, her brows furrowing in disbelief.

“Of course, you don’t think you did anything wrong.” She says. “Very typical of you, Alina.”

“Because I didn’t!” Alina exclaims, once again defending herself.

“Girl, stop!” She says, standing to her feet. “All the shit that happened was because of you!” She says, pointing her index finger at her friend. “Who was they fighting over? You. Why were they fighting to begin with? Because of you, and why was that? Because you thought it wasn’t necessary to let your ex-fiancé and boyfriend know the other exists and put them in a fucking room together. How did you think that was going to pan out, hm?”

“Tasha, you going to get your hand out my face,” Alina warns, gently moving Tasha’s hand as she stands up. This prompts Michael to stand, his arm snaking around Tasha’s waist to hold her back. On the other hand, Josh remained seated, his legs crossed at the ankles. The moment Alina rose from her seat, his hand was on the back of her hoodie, ready to yank her back down if things went left. 

“Can y’all calm down?” Michael asks, pulling Tasha back a few steps. He then glances down to Josh who is calmly sitting on the couch, his brows furrowed at him. “Ay, man, you don’t want to help?”

“Nope,” Josh replies simply. He was doing a great job staying out of this. It’s mostly because Josh was tired and ready for bed, but here he was at almost… He reaches into his pocket to grab his phone, his eyes reading the time. Eight o’clock. They got him spectating a shouting match at eight o’clock at night. His top lip curls in disgust at the time as he tosses the phone onto the cushion next to him. He ought to let Alina go on Tasha and wrap this up. The sooner, the better, amirite? 

They know they could have done this shit tomorrow, Josh thought, watching the scene unfolding in front of him with an exhausted look of annoyance. They done came off in his house, messing up the vibes. Now, he has to deal with Alina being upset the rest of the week. He closes his eyes for a moment, sighing deeply. They’re lucky he’s too tired to be pissed off. Irked? A little bit. Ready to kick them out? Most definitely. 

“I don’t know why I even bothered coming over here.” She mutters.

“Hell, I’m trying to figure out how the fuck you knew I was home!” Alina says. “You ain’t spoke to me in over a month, and then you show up on my doorstep unannounced, trying to point fingers at me instead of telling your husband to get his stupid ass friend in check,” Alina says, pointing at Mike. “That’s your brother, ain’t he? Y’all go to the Country Club every Sunday and puff your cigars, and not once did it cross your mind when he brought me up to say that I was in a relationship?” She asks. “Because now, I know he talks about me, and y’all entertain it. Which means y’all don’t respect me, Josh, or our relationship.” Theo should have never felt comfortable enough to approach her at that wedding. He should have never been confident enough to toy with Josh, pushing him to fight. None of this would have happened if he would have stayed in his lane. 

“Man, I’m deading this.” She laughs softly to herself. With a shake of her head, Alina turned over her shoulder, pulling Josh’s hand from the hoodie she wore. Lastly, she glares at the couple before marching around them towards the door. She opens it, gesturing to the outside. “Get the fuck out of my house.” 

Those seven words tasted bitter on Alina’s tongue, making her stomach churn as they left her lips. But they needed to be said. She had reached her limit with the couple, done allowing herself to be crucified for the wrongdoings of an ex she hadn’t been associated with in over a decade. She could understand Mike standing by his boy, but Tasha standing with Theo, as well, was something she thought she would never see a day in her life. After all the late-night calls of her sobbing over this man and the depressive spiral he sent her in, forcing her to hardly eat or leave her house, her best friend should have easily been on her side, but today, that was not the case. 

To Alina, that was the greatest betrayal a friend could cause her and was grounds for a friendship breakup. She wasn’t interested in hearing anything else that could come from the couple’s mouths. What was said was said, and she was ready to have them out of her house. Tasha and Mike pivot to face her but don’t move from their spots. There was a mix of shock and confusion on their faces–dark brows knitted in unison at the sight of the exasperated woman across the room. She was really kicking them out. 

Mike peers down at his wife, whose wide gaze hasn’t left her friend. Tasha's eyes–like Alina’s, swelled with tears they wouldn’t allow to drop. Her lips trembled as she fought back words she wanted to say but couldn’t because the damage was already done. This was the beginning of the end of a friendship. “C’mon, y’all don’t want to do this,” Mike says, looking at Alina. “Y’all have been friends for twenty years, attached at the hip.” He reminds them. “I understand emotions are high right now. We can revisit this later, but don’t do this.” He pleads. 

Behind the couple, Josh smacks his lips, giving them a glance and a shake of his head. “Too late for all that.” He mumbles. Mike turns over his shoulder to look at Josh, who pauses at the sudden spin to face him.

“You can be quiet if you not finna help. You’re only making things worse.” He tells him. Josh’s large brown eyes shifted from him to Alina, who was now watching them.

“He ain’t talking to me, is he?” He asks with a point of his hand. “Shit, I’mma pretend he’s not.” He says, grabbing his phone from the couch. “Because if I gotta get up–.” He laughs to himself. “we going to have a problem.” He finishes. Josh was trying to let Alina handle it, which she was doing a great job at, but if Mike snapped at him one more time, she wouldn’t have to worry about them leaving on their own. 

“Y’all letting the air out my house,” Alina says sharply, calling everyone’s attention back to her. “Out.” She points at the exit again.

“Lina–.” Tasha starts.

“Now!” She shouts, causing her friend to flinch at the sudden outburst. Tasha's tongue pushes into the wet flesh of her chin, gliding along to her cheek. She peers at the floor, her left eye twitching as a tear falls. Her hand shoots to her face, quickly wiping away the glistening streams of salty tears. 

"Okay," She whispers, slowly moving towards the door. Alina averted her gaze from the woman, unable to watch as Tasha exited her house. Two gusts of wind would pass her, alerting her that they had exited her home. Quickly, she closed the door behind them, hurrying to lock it as if they’d come barging back in. Tasha wasn’t the type to do that, this Alina knew. She had too much pride. They both did. Twenty years of friendship died in forty minutes, all behind Alina’s ex. 

It was weird hearing them choose him without saying his name, but then again, of course they did. Why wouldn’t they? She spent so much time putting distance between herself and Theo that she put distance between her and their friends as well. That wasn’t her intention, but she had to protect her peace. It was clear he wasn’t going anywhere, and no one was going to force him to. She tried to avoid making them choose between her and him only to make it easier for them to choose him in the end. 

The tension that once filled the house had gone with Tasha and Michael, their absence cooling the air around her and Josh. As the air cooled, it became harder to breathe. The lump in Alina’s throat had grown in size, making her shake with each breath she tried to take. Her heart thumped vigorously in her chest, the sound filling her ears like large drums. Her chest was tight, causing her great discomfort. She leans her head against the door, her hand still wrapped tightly around the doorknob. A familiar heaviness came over her, one that she’d only felt twice in her life. Once when her Grandaddy passed, and the other time when Theo revealed he cheated. That was a feeling she hoped to never feel again, but here she goes, reacquainting herself with grief for the third time.  

Josh had only seen Alina cry a handful of times. It was something she preferred to do behind closed doors when no one else was around. His mother used to do that when he and his brothers were kids. Talisua was always wanting to be strong for them despite them telling her she didn’t need to. Alina was the same way.

He tosses his phone to the side, rising from the couch. Slowly, Josh would make his way over to his girlfriend, his arms outstretched to comfort her. “Baby,” He calls, hoping she’d turn to come to him. Instead, she remained against the door, paralyzed by her emotions. His large hand wrapped around her forearm, carefully peeling the hand that gripped the doorknob off first. “Come here.” He says, pulling her towards him. His other arm wrapped around her right shoulder, turning her to face him as he wrapped her in his embrace.

The moment she was in his arms, the sobs she was trying so desperately to suppress broke through. She’d bury her face in Josh’s chest, her tears soaking the black tee he had on. Though her cries were muffled, they still filled the room they stood in. “You did what you had to, you hear me?” He whispers into her hair. His hand traveled up and down her back, trying to soothe her. “I’m proud of you.” He informs her.

Josh knew it took a lot of courage to send Tasha away and that doing it hurt more than it should have. She was important to Alina, existing within a huge portion of her life. Now, she had to figure out how to continue without her. “I got you forever, you hear me?” He promises. “I got you.” He’d press his lips to her head before laying his own upon hers. They’ll stand here for as long as she needs to. Josh didn’t care–he just wanted to make sure his woman was okay. 

She was going to feel this in the morning, as she always did when she had a good cry like this one. She was already dreading the headache this would bring, the feeling of swelling in her eyelids from all the crying she’d do tonight and tomorrow. Mourning a person who had died was one thing. Eventually, you’ll heal with time. Mourning a person who was still on the Earth was a whole other pain. It was a wound that desperately wanted to heal, only to reopen at the randomest of times. She now had two wounds: one for Theo and one for Tasha. 

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

A/N: a little late-night update. I hope you all don't mind. IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME TASHA SILLY ASS BROUGHT HER ASS AROUND TO THE MCLEMORE-FATU RESIDENCE. What do we think about how everything went down? Leave a comment down below, and let's talk about it.

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[yvesssssssss]

HIII hope you’re doing great ^^ i have a request with nagumo shin natsuki and heisuke dating a kind and cute girl AND their families (idk like sakamoto, mafuyu etcetc) want to meet her and they are testing her even if she’s really kind

I love this idea so much!! I had a lot of fun writing it, but honestly, I wasn’t completely satisfied with how it turned out—so I really hope you like it! Let me know if you want any changes!

You knew dating an assassin came with challenges, but apparently, the real test was dealing with their protective families.

And today? Today, you were being evaluated.

Nagumo yoichi

I sat beside Yoichi, hands neatly folded in my lap, smiling politely despite the heavy tension in the air. Across from us, Rion Akao paced back and forth, eyes sharp as she studied me like I was a suspect in a murder case.

Taro Sakamoto sat beside her, arms crossed, unreadable as ever.

“So,” Rion finally spoke, stopping in front of me, “you’re really dating this guy?” She jabbed a finger at Yoichi, who waved lazily, grinning.

I nodded. “Mhm! Yoichi is really sweet, you know?”

Rion scoffed so hard it was almost a laugh. She turned to Sakamoto. “Did she just say something insane?”

Sakamoto let out a deep sigh.

“I mean it!” I said earnestly. “He always remembers my favorite snacks, holds my hand when I’m nervous, and—oh! One time, I was feeling down, and he spent hours making me a really cute origami bouquet!”

Nagumo smirked. “You see? I’m a romantic.”

Rion narrowed her eyes. “You’re a liar.”

I blinked. “No, he really did that.”

“He did that to mess with your head.”

I tilted my head. “But… it worked. I felt better.”

Rion groaned, rubbing her temples. “You’re too nice.”

Sakamoto finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. “Nagumo’s dangerous. If you’re with him, you’ll be in danger too.”

I met his gaze and nodded. “I know.”

Rion’s pacing stopped.

“Okay then,” she said slowly. “Prove it.”

Nagumo sighed. “Oh my god, you guys.”

Rion ignored him. “Let’s say Nagumo gets captured and tortured for intel. What do you do?”

I tilted my head. “Oh, I trust him. I’m sure he wouldn’t get captured.”

The room went silent.

Rion blinked at me. “…What?”

I smiled. “It’s Yoichi. If someone tried to capture him, he’d either talk his way out of it, escape before it even happened, or trick them into thinking they were the ones caught.”

Nagumo grinned. “See? She gets me.”

Rion groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “Oh my god, you’re delusional.”

Sakamoto, however, nodded slightly, as if he actually agreed with me.

“But,” I continued, “if by some impossible chance he did get captured, I’d find him and take him back.”

Rion squinted. “And if I was the one who took him?”

I smiled sweetly. “Then I’d negotiate first… and if that didn’t work, I’d take him back by force.”

Nagumo let out a low whistle. “See? Perfect.”

Rion muttered something under her breath. “…Alright, maybe you’re not as helpless as I thought.”

She crossed her arms, eyeing me up and down. “Next question. What’s the worst thing about Nagumo?”

I thought for a moment. “…Oh, that’s easy! He’s always teasing people.”

Rion huffed. “That’s the best thing you could come up with?”

“Well, I like everything else about him.”

Nagumo placed a hand over his heart. “I might cry.”

“Shut up,” Rion and Sakamoto said in unison.

Rion sighed. “Alright. Final test.”

Sakamoto pulled out a knife and slid it across the table. “If Nagumo ever betrays you, would you be able to kill him?”

The air shifted.

I picked up the knife, holding it delicately.

Nagumo watched me, relaxed as always. I met his gaze.

Then I smiled. “I trust Yoichi. If he betrayed me, he’d have a very good reason.”

Something flickered in his eyes.

Rion scoffed. “So you wouldn’t kill him?”

I tilted my head. “If he truly betrayed me… then yes, I could.”

Nagumo smirked. “She is perfect.”

Sakamoto nodded approvingly. Rion still looked suspicious, but she finally leaned back in her chair, arms crossed.

“…Fine. I still think you could do better,” she muttered. “But you’re not an idiot. I respect that.”

I beamed. “Thank you!”

Rion sighed, rubbing her temples. “Whatever. You’re stuck with him now, so good luck.”

Nagumo grabbed my hand. “See? Told you they’d love you.”

Rion threw a knife at his head.

Nagumo dodged, still smirking. “Ah, classic Rion.”

Shin Asakura

Shin was nervous. Very nervous.

“Are you okay?” you asked, holding his hand as you both stood in front of the Sakamoto household.

“No,” Shin said immediately. “Lu’s involved in this, which means chaos. Hana’s unpredictable. And Sakamoto—” He inhaled. “He knows everything I’m thinking.”

The door swung open before he could knock.

Lu grinned. “You’re late.”

“We weren’t given a time—” Shin tried, but she pulled you inside.

The first test was immediate.

Hana stood in front of you, holding up a picture she very clearly drew herself. “If you don’t say my art is amazing, I’m kicking you out.”

You beamed. “This is beautiful, Hana-chan! The colors are so lively, and I can tell you put a lot of effort into it!”

Hana squinted at you. Then turned to Shin. “She’s either really nice or a liar.”

Lu leaned in. “Would you fight someone for Shin?”

You smiled softly. “I don’t like violence. But if someone tried to hurt him, I’d protect him with everything I have.”

Lu whistled. “Oh, she’s dangerous. I like her.”

Finally, Sakamoto sat across from you, silently watching.

Shin tensed. “Boss, please don’t make this scary—”

Sakamoto leaned back, satisfied. “You’re good. Shin’s lucky.”

Shin groaned. “I hate this family.”

You giggled. “I love them.”

Shin turned to you in horror.

Lu clapped his back. “Oh, you’re so doomed.”

Natsuki Seba

Natsuki underestimated how insane this was going to be.

Mafuyu, his younger brother, had immediately dragged you away the second you entered the Seba household.

“I need to test if you’re worthy of my brother,” Mafuyu said seriously. “If you fail, I’ll make him break up with you.”

Natsuki groaned. “Mafuyu, seriously—”

“Silence, loser,” Mafuyu said, then turned back to you. “First question. If you were a fish, what fish would you be?”

You blinked. “Oh! A clownfish, maybe? They seem friendly.”

Mafuyu hummed. “Acceptable. Next. You’re in the middle of a battle. You have one weapon. What do you choose?”

“I… don’t like fighting,” you admitted.

Mafuyu narrowed his eyes. “Trick question. The correct answer is ‘Natsuki.’”

Natsuki pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re so weird.”

Mafuyu ignored him. “Final question. Do you think my brother is cool?”

You smiled. “Of course.”

Mafuyu gasped dramatically. “Oh my god. She’s delusional.”

Natsuki groaned. “That’s enough, Mafuyu—”

Mafuyu crossed his arms. “Fine. You pass.”

Natsuki blinked. “Wait, what?”

Mafuyu shrugged. “She’s obviously nice, and she likes you even though you’re lame. That means she’s loyal.”

Natsuki narrowed his eyes. “I feel very insulted, but I’ll take it.”

Mafuyu nodded. “You have my blessing.”

Natsuki sighed. “Great. Now never talk to my girlfriend again.”

Mafuyu smirked. “Absolutely not.”

Heisuke Mashimo

Heisuke’s “family” was basically just Sakamoto, Shin, Lu, and Hana, and they immediately went feral with their tests.

Sakamoto just stared at you for a while, then nodded. “Alright. You pass.”

Shin and Lu immediately protested.

“No,” Shin said. “She has to prove she can handle Heisuke’s stupidity.”

You blinked. “He’s not stupid, though.”

Silence.

Lu slowly turned to Heisuke. “You brainwashed her.”

Heisuke pouted. “I did not.”

Shin crossed his arms. “Alright. If Heisuke had to snipe something and missed, what would you do?”

You smiled sweetly. “I’d tell him he did his best and that I believe in him.”

Shin and Lu exchanged horrified glances.

“Oh god,” Lu whispered. “She’s an enabler.”

Heisuke grinned. “I love her.”

Sakamoto sighed. “She’s fine. Let them be.”

Lu groaned. “Fine. But if they end up married, I want a separate house far away from the secondhand embarrassment.”

Heisuke just hugged you, grinning. “I knew they’d love you!”

Shin put his head in his hands. “I need a drink.”

Gaku

Gaku didn’t even try to stop Kumanomi.

“I mean, if she can’t survive you, she probably can’t survive me either,” he reasoned, hands in his pockets.

You just tilted your head, smiling sweetly at Kumanomi. “It’s nice to meet you!”

Kumanomi smirked. “We’ll see about that. Sit.”

You obediently took a seat. Gaku leaned against the wall, watching like this was a free show.

Kumanomi pulled out a piece of paper. “Alright, sweetheart. First question: If Gaku loses a fight, what do you do?”

You blinked. “Oh! I’d help him up and tell him he did great.”

Gaku snorted. “Baby. I don’t lose.”

Kumanomi ignored him. “Second question: If you had to fight Gaku, what’s your strategy?”

You thought for a moment. “Um… Distract him with a video game and then run?”

Gaku threw his head back laughing. “That’s actually so smart—”

Kumanomi narrowed her eyes. “Interesting. Third question: Do you think Gaku is intelligent?”

You nodded earnestly. “Of course!”

Kumanomi stared at you like you’d grown three heads. “Oh my god. You’re delusional.”

Gaku burst out laughing. “She likes me, Kumanomi. Of course she’s a little insane.”

Kumanomi sighed. “Final question. If someone flirts with Gaku, what do you do?”

You blinked, then smiled. “I’d probably just hold his hand and remind them he’s taken.”

Gaku grinned. “Aww, babe—”

Kumanomi smirked. “Wrong answer. You fight them.”

Your smile wavered. “But I don’t like fighting…”

Kumanomi nodded solemnly. “That’s okay. I’ll teach you.”

Gaku grinned. “Wait. This means she passes, right?”

Kumanomi rolled her eyes. “She’s too nice for you, but whatever. She’s cute. I’ll allow it.”

Gaku whooped, throwing an arm around you. “Hell yeah, my girl’s approved!”

Kumanomi sighed. “Just don’t get her arrested.”

Gaku smirked. “No promises.”

[maskedcrawford]

Hidden Secrets

G-Dragon x Reader

Summary: You tell Jiyong about your pregnancy and things are great, till they aren't.

Warnings: ANGST my friends. Loss of a baby and delivery of it. Not a lot of comfort in this chapter. Please read at your own risk.

A/n: I'm so sorry y'all. However, I do have a plan, don't give up on it yet. I'm so sorry though. I'm happy to give a summary if anyone need's it. Take care of yourselves! <3

Chapter 8

Hidden Secrets Masterlist

Chapter 9- Still Life

Jiyong is a nervous wreck all day.

“Why wouldn’t she just tell me though, why would she go to the doctor?”

“Maybe she just wants to be absolutely sure before she tells you, that way she doesn’t get your hopes up or she doesn’t scare you,” Daesung explains to his friend.

“Just give it time, Ji. It can take a few days to get the results back.” Taeyang says calmly.

“Do you know how hard it is trying to act like I don’t know a thing,” he asks his friends. They all give him sympathetic smiles.

“You’ll know soon enough and then it won’t be a secret anymore,” Seunghyun mentions.

-

That night Jiyong decides to give you a call. You’re making dinner when the phone rings.

“Hey, baby,” you coo and Jiyong’s palms are sweaty and nervous. He’s walking back to his hotel room.

“Hey, have you heard from the doctor today?” You take your bottom lip between your teeth. You’ve barely had time to process, still unsure of your future.

“Not, not yet. It should be in the next couple days though,” you lie. You give him a plastic smile, one that doesn’t reach your eyes. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks as he shuts the door to his room.

“Anything,” you smile as you continue making your dinner, now for 2.

“I think it’d be amazing if you are,” he mumbles.

“If I’m,” you pause and take a deep breath, “Pregnant?” you look at the phone and he nods.

“Yeah, I mean a mini you or me running around,” you can hear the joy in his voice at the thought of a baby. You shut your eyes for a minute.

“Well, at least I know you wouldn’t freak out if I am.” You try to laugh off.

“Listen, I don’t want to sway you, but if you are, just know we can do it. We can figure it all out.” He almost sounds as if he’s pleading.

“What if we can’t?” you ask turning off the stove.

“Why wouldn’t we?”

“Ji, IF we have a baby, I mean, I’d be here by myself with it all day everyday if you’re on tour, you’d be gone most of the pregnancy, I don-wouldn’t,” you quickly correct, “want to do this alone. And yet even if you’re here, I’m still the one carrying it.” You sigh and his face briefly looks fearful before he covers it with a look of understanding.

“You just tell me what you want and we’ll figure it out. But please, either way. Just tell me.” You nod at his request.

“Well I still haven’t heard anything so I may not be,” you feign a smile and he purses his lips, doing his best not to let it slip that he knows.

“Listen, I’m kind of tired, I’m gonna lay down. Goodluck at your show tonight,” you say before ending the call before he can say anything else. You sigh and feel a few frustrated tears fall from your eyes. You walk to the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror, your hands placing around your stomach.

“What are we gonna do? I mean, I’m not ready for you,” you talk to it.

“I know your Appa,” the words leave your mouth before you can stop them and you feel a tug in your emotions. The weight of the situation is finally sinking in. You were actually pregnant with Jiyong’s baby.

“Your Appa says we can do it,” you whisper as you look down at your tummy.

“But I don’t know if I can be the Eomma you need,” you cradle your stomach. You suddenly feel another tug at your heart strings as tears well up in your eyes. There really is a small growing human inside of your body, one that while small, you slightly feel connected to.

-

The following morning you make an appointment with your obgyn and luckily she has an appointment available that same day. You get yourself ready and show up to the appointment. You go in and she informs you that you’re now 4 weeks along. You see the ultrasound monitor and what looks like a tiny little bean on the screen.

You take a deep breath as reality slaps you in the face. Everytime you think you’ve dealt with it, reality keeps making it more and more real.

“Do you want to talk about your options,” she asks carefully.

“So you mean to tell me that, that’s in here?” you ask in disbelief as you point to your stomach, your eyes never leaving the monitor. She nods with an understanding smile.

“Yep.”

“Mine and his dna,” you whisper to yourself.

“Wait, options, what options?”

“Well, if you want to terminate, the options is still there. Or you could look at adoption if you aren't sure you want to keep it,” you feel a nauseous feeling in your stomach at her words. You shake your head.

“N-no I don’t need to know about that. What I do need to know is how the heck do I take care of it while it’s growing and when would I be due?”

“Well, you’ll need to listen to your body, rest, don’t over exert yourself, take your prenatal vitamins. And if you choose to keep it we’ll need to see you once each month until your 28 weeks.” She informs you. You nod your head.

“And by the looks of it, it’d be around Nov. 8th of this year,” your heart skips a beat and you smirk to yourself. 8. Of course his child would be due on the 8th.

“Thank you,” you say as she stands up.

“You can find vitamins at your local shop,” she mentions before leaving out the door.

You sit there for a moment, waiting for the pictures. The nurse comes back in and hands them to you. You smile and thank her before staring at them.

“Oh, wait,” you call out just before the door shuts. The woman walks back in.

“Am I ok to travel? My boyfriend’s out of town and I want to go see him. Give him the news in person.” You smile a little.

“Yeah, as long as you take breaks, listen to your body and get what you need before you leave you should be fine,” the woman informs you. You nod your head and smile. For a moment, the world doesn’t feel so heavy, I mean you all ready knew Jiyong was going to be accepting of the news.

You go to the store, getting the necessary things you need for the little bundle in your stomach and then you decide you should figure out a way to break the news. You examine the baby aisle and notice cute little shoes, your heart melts at how tiny they are.

“You’ll be in these running before we know it,” you giggle to yourself as you reach for you non showing stomach. You pick up a pair of the tiny shoes and that’s when the idea hits you. You get another test. You find a cute wood plaque and a box to put the three things in. You rush home to take the test and sure enough 2 pink lines show up like they’re supposed to. You can’t help but feel a little excited to give him the box.

The next two days pass by painfully slow, but it’s finally the night before you leave and you get a call from your boyfriend like every night.

“Please tell me you heard something today,” he whines.

“I did, and I’ll tell you about in person,” you say nonchalantly.

“Jagiya,” he whines.

“Just tell me what’s going on. I’ve been freaking out,” he runs a hand through his hair.

“Wait, why?” you look at him dead in his face over the phone.

“Because I just want to know what you know. It’s important to me."

“You’ll know soon enough. I fly out around 2 am tomorrow morning. I’ll be L.A before you know it.” You can’t help the little giggle that escapes your throat.

“Yeah, all right,” he says giving up.

“At least let me see my baby.”

“I’m right here, Ji.” You cock your head to the side.

“My other baby, ya know, Zoa,” he smirks. You roll your eyes playfully as you find her and show her the phone.

“Look Zoa, it’s your Appa,” your heart flutters at the name slightly as you get more used to the idea. Unbeknownst to you, his heart does the same. He baby talks the cat who sits there purring. You two hang up for the night and you get some much-needed sleep.

-

Jiyong is an anxious mess the whole day.

“Dude, quit pacing!” Taeyang stops him dead in his tracks placing his hands on his shoulders.

“I can’t help it,” he sighs.

“She’ll be here soon and my whole life is really going to change. I just don’t know how, yet.”

“It’s going to be fine, man. We have a couple of days to rest and with her flying in it sounds like that’s what y’all need. Just some time together.” Jiyong would never deny that he missed you. Heck the man would let the whole world burn down if it meant you were safe in his arms, he’s crazy about you. But seeing you also meant you finally telling him that life as he knows it right now is possibly over.

The day passes painfully slow, Jiyong mainly staying stuck in his hotel room, just trying to mentally prepare.

There’s a knock on his door late that night and he opens it to see your smiling face!

“Jagi!” he shouts and pulls you into the tightest hug he can, careful with your stomach. His lips find yours instantly as soon as he pulls you into the room. You giggle against his lips.

“I missed you too,” you say on his lips as they continue to devour you. He pulls back and rests his forehead on yours.

“Oh, baby, you have no idea how I’ve missed you,” your heart warms at his words.

“So,” he says after a beat of silence.

“Can you tell me now?”

You chuckle and walk him over to bed. You grab the gift-wrapped box from the suitcase you packed and hand it to him.

“A present?” He looks at you genuinely confused.

“Just something I picked up; it made me think of you.” You smile as you get down on your knees in front of him, desperate to see his reaction.

His hands carefully pick up the delicate shoes as he inspects them, tears in his eyes.

“Fuck, we’re having a baby,” he says quietly, voice cracking slightly. You nod with a grin on your face. He looks into your eyes and pulls you in for another passionate kiss, but this time he takes his time, savoring the moment of pure bliss.

“We’re having a baby,” he chuckles to himself and you smile at his reaction as you run your hand through his hair.

“Like, its actually real now,” he breathes.

“Now?” you ask with a tilt of your head as you gaze at him lovingly.

“Oh, yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck, “I sorta found the positive pregnancy test in the trash before I left.”

“What? There was no positive test, Ji.” You pull back confused.

“Yeah, it was faint, but there was a line.” He says as he stands up to get the test from his bag. Sure enough, as you hold the test in your hands there was a little, faint, pink line.

“How did I miss that?” you ask yourself feeling a tinge of guilt.

“Hey, hey, you know now.” He comes over and holds you.

“Everything’s going to be ok” he kisses your forehead.

“I’m not going to lie, I’m still freaked out,” you say quietly.

“I mean, this means everything changes. Everything,” you say with tears pricking your eyes. He gently rocks you back and forth.

“It’s going to be ok.” He whispers in your ear with a smile on his face.

“I also have a surprise for the guys,” you inform him as the two of you lay on the hotel bed. He can’t stop staring at the sign.

“They all ready kind of know. I mean they seen how stressed I was at the airport.” He says sheepishly.

“Dang it, I wanted to surprise them too.” You pout.

“You still can,” you brings you close, “How do you want to do it?”

“I actually called ahead to your favorite place here and made a dinner reservation for 6.” He smirks.

“That’s cute.” He smirks at you with pride in his heart.

“I thought so. The waiter will bring out a desert and it’ll say “Congratulations,” on the plate in little bean’s place.”

“Which reminds me,” you say as you hop off the bed.

“Here’s this from the doctor’s office.” You show him the sonogram pictures and a tear slips from his eye straight down his cheek.

“Our baby,” he whispers as he brings you closer to place a hand on your stomach. He gives it soft kiss and looks up you. You have the biggest grin on your face as he gazes up at you, completely and totally in love.

“I wonder who’s eyes she'll have. Who she’ll look more like,” he begins to dream about your baby.

“She?”

“Of course, it’s a girl. I can feel it.” He says assuredly. You giggle and roll your eyes.

“We’ll find out soon enough if you’re right.” You say as you lay down next to him. You lay on your back, Jiyong goes down to talk to your stomach.

“Don’t worry, jagiya, I’ll make sure you have everything you need. Clothes, shoes, the best of the best and your eomma is going to be so taken care of she’ll barely notice you’re there.” He winks at you.

“Hey, tell him or her,”

“Her,” he smiles to himself and you shake your head.

“Tell her to quit making me so sick every day then I won’t hardly notice,” you tease. He chuckles as he lightly rubs your belly and is already smitten with your unborn child.

-

The next night you’re out to dinner with the gang and you and Jiyong keep sharing knowing glances.

“All right, what’s going on you two?” Daesung teases.

“Yeah, why are you treating us to dinner and you both have shit eating grins on your faces?” Seunghyun asks with a quirked brow.

“And why is there an extra seat at the table?” Taeyang asks, his smile knowing as he points at the empty spot beside you. That’s when the waiter brings out everyone’s desert, including a plate of chocolate syrup spelling out Congratulations! They all break out into fits of joyful laughter as everyone hugs each other.

“Group hug!” Daesung calls out and suddenly you’re all up out of your seats being smushed together.

“She’s going to have the best uncles,” Jiyong says with a kiss to your forehead.

“She? You already know it’s a girl?” Seunghyun asks quite surprised.

“No, but he’s dead set that it is,” you explain and he nods.

“You’d be a good girl dad,” Taeyang compliments.

“She’d definitely have no shortage of clothing,” Daesung teases and you can’t help but giggle.

“Leave me and my daughter alone,” he defends playfully. Your heart is full while you take in the memory of everyone being so excited and happy for you.  

-

He flipps when he feels your little bean kick for the first time.

“Can the guys feel?” his eyes light up like a Christmas tree. You giggle and nod your head yeah.

“Guys you have to feel this!” All the guys tentatively put their hands on your stomach and it happened, the baby kicked and you braced yourself for the new feeling.

“Is it amazing?” he sighs as looks at you.

“It feels weird,” you giggle. He's constantly talking to the baby about tour and music and how he was going to teach ‘her’ everything he knows. Always making sure to slip in little comments about how well you were doing taking care of ‘her’. He would find himself absentmindedly rubbing your stomach whenever he could, feeling her little feet kick his hand every now and again.

“She’s going to be football star, someday,” he jokes.

“You’re loving this,” you mention, “The whole thing. You can’t for him or her to call you Appa for the first time.” He flushes at your words, hiding his face from you as he laughs.

“Sue me, I’m excited,” he says as he peeks at you.

He basically became obsessed with the two of you. Constantly talking to your little one, making sure you’re comfortable and making sure you get home to Seoul for any appointments, going to the few that he can, and being on the phone with you the whole time when he can't. Even talking to the doctor to be sure you can fly back out and make sure he’s doing everything he can to help it go smoothly.

“I swear, the minute you can’t fly I’m coming home,” he says as you get in the car to drive back to house you two share.

“Baby, I’m fine.” You smile at him before looking down at your bump.

“Its literally fine. She said I can fly out to see you so I’ll be leaving tomorrow just like we planned. Make sure Taeyang get’s the email from the doctor. We were able to get good pictures today and we’ll be finding out the sex as soon you guys come back on break!” you squeal and his smile stretches from ear to ear.

-

Taeyang is at yours and Jiyong’s house setting everything up with Seunghyun and Daesung.

“Come on, man, what’s she having.” Daesung asks for the thousandth time.

“I’m not telling you. They wanted it to be secret so I’m keeping it a secret.”

“It’s not like we’ll tell them,” Seunghyun chastises.

“I don’t care, I’m doing my job,” Taeyang says as he hangs up the final blue balloon. The guys groan in response but help finish setting up. The gender reveal set up is close to being done and you two arrive back home.

“I’m so excited,” you squeal as you look at yourself in your dress. Your dress hugs the bump that’s forming on your tummy and Jiyong comes up in behind you wrapping his arms around the two of you, resting his head on your shoulder. You lean back against him and stare at your reflection in the mirror.

“You’re going to be the best mommy ever,” he whispers and kisses your cheek.

“You think?” you grin at him and peck his lips.

“I know,” he says before leading you outside. All the guests including friends and family for both of you are arriving and they each congratulate you. There’s a mix of guesses as to if it’s a boy or a girl, you guess it’s a boy while Jiyong is going from what he firmly believed from day 1, that it’s a girl.

After a while of mingling and playing some games it’s finally time.

“On the count of 3,” Taeyang announces and you and Jiyong share a quick look.

“Here we go,” he says as he leans down to peck your lips. Your bounce on the balls of your feet with slight excitement as the crowd starts counting.

“1… 2… 3…” the explosion goes off behind you.

You squeal as you hug Jiyong and he picks you up twirling you around.

“I told you!” he says excited. You smile and give him a passionate kiss as the confetti falls and smoke clears.

“Holy crap we’re having a girl,” you say to yourself. Your head begins to feel a little dizzy as you put a hand on your forehead.

“You ok? Hey, come here sit down,” he motions you to a chair.

“What’s wrong?” Seunghyun asks as he see’s you sitting down and rushes over to check it out.

“I’m just overwhelmed with emotion.” You giggle as tears are falling down your cheeks and Jiyong grabs a tissue.

“This is just like when you cried at that cat food commercial,” he teases.

“Hey, those kitties were cute and with every purchase of food part of the money goes to help shelter cats!” you defend, “It was beautiful.” He chuckles.

“Yes, it was, it was a totally rational response.” He says and you roll your eyes playfully.

That night the two of you sit in bed going over a list of girl names.

“What about, Abigail?” you both look at each other and shake your head.

“Too plain,” Jiyong says.

“Nova?” he suggests.

“What is she, a golden retriever?” you joke and he chuckles.

“Bo-min?” you consider it for a moment.

“It’s not horrible, but not my favorite.” You sit in silence for a moment before you gasp.

“What about Chae min,” his smile is huge at your name.

“It’s perfect,” he grins and kisses you.  

-

It’s a month after the gender reveal and you hit the 28-week mark. You’re at home resting while Jiyong is back out somewhere in Europe touring. You were fixing up the nursery, putting the rocking chair in the corner when you felt a sharp pain in your stomach.

“Easy girl, I’m not made of steel,” you say as you chuckle and rub your flesh. You continue on and you feel it again, this time the pain is more sharp and intense.

“Baby girl,” you breathe out a laugh, feeling nervous. You finish putting some things away before using the bathroom. That’s when you notice the spotting.

“Oh shit,” you curse in disbelief as you stare at your underwear for a moment. You call your ob’s office and ask to speak to the doctor immediately.

“Yeah, I’m having sharp pain and I’m spotting,” you say your nerves a total wreck. Your body feels shaky and your breathing is rapid.

“What about movement, have you felt any less movement than usual?” You had been so consumed by trying to get the nursery together, what you could of it, that you honestly weren’t sure.

“I-I don’t know, I just know I’m bleeding and,” you suck in a sharp breath, “Fuck,” you say under you breath.

“Come on in, we’ll get you in today,” the doctor says and you immediately grab your keys.

Upon arrival to your doctor you don’t have a chance to sit down to wait before they’re rushing you back.

“What’s going on?” You ask nervously.

“Just wait, we’ll know soon enough,” one of the nurses informs you.

“Is she ok?” your voice is frantic but no one will answer you.

“Lay back for us,” you do as the doctor says and she puts the monitor on your stomach, the room is dead silent, and you can see the look on the doctors face is concerned as she moves against your stomach. You listen to the monitor, hearing nothing.

“What’s happening,” your tears are falling from your cheeks now onto the table as your fear is being realized.

“We can’t find the heartbeat,” she says solemnly. She continues for another few minutes as your own heart is beating so fast you fear you might pass out.

She pushes down slightly harder on our stomach, the baby doesn’t move.

“Have you noticed any less movement the last 24 hours?” the doctor asks as she wipes off our stomach. The stress of the situation clouds your memory.

"I-I don't really know," you sob.

“We’ll have to induce you,” she stands beside you giving you a sad look.

“But if she’s born now she won’t make it,” your denial kicks in along with the anxiety.

“Ms. Y/l/n,” the doctor says gently, “She’s gone, we need to deliver her,” your heart breaks in that moment and you let out a blood curdling scream as you sob uncontrollably in the doctor’s office.

“No, no, no check her again, do something, do anything, please I’m begging you!” Your voice is desperate and broken. Yet still in disbelief that this is now your reality.

The doctor sits with you for a minute, doing her best to console you.

“We’ll get you scheduled,” she says as you’re still shaking on the table.

“What did I do wrong?” you ask desperate for answers.

“We don’t know the cause, yet. So as far as we know, it wasn’t anything you did or didn’t do.” She tries to reassure you before leaving. You shakily stand up and get yourself to the parking lot, everyone around you stares but you don’t care. You sit in your car and sob once again. You drive yourself home once you can compose yourself and lay on the couch. You had to tell Jiyong.

You give him a call that night.

“Hey, bab- what’s wrong!” He asks frantic once he see’s the puffiness of your eyes and the redness to your face.

“Baby I-I need you to come home right away,” you whimper with a weak voice.

“What happened, y/n,” his voice is terrified, but stern.

“I-I’m so sorry, I swear I did everything I could,” the tears begin once more and Jiyong is helpless just staring at you. Behind him the guys hear the commotion and while not crowding him, they step up to listen.

“Baby she’s gone,” you say through your sobs and he stands there, motionless, taking in the information you relayed to him.

“I’ll be home as soon as I can be,” he hangs up and immediately starts looking at flights.

“Ji,” he hears Taeyang say.

“Man, I’m,” he holds his hands up.

“Thank you but I can’t right now. She needs me,” his voice cracks and he sniffles as tears fall from his face. He gets the next flight home and it’s the longest few hours of his life. He sits on the plane, shaking his leg the whole time. Finally the plane lands and he’s dashing out of it racing home to you. He walks in the door to find a deserted living room. You're in your shared bed in his room.

He sets his stuff down and climbs in behind you. The fear of how he feels creeps in as you turn to face him.

“Baby I swear I thought I did everything right, I’m so s-sorry,” your eyes are filling with more tears as he shushes you and pulls you into him.

“It’s ok, it’s all going to be ok,” is all he can say as he lets a few of his own tears slip out.

“Jiyong I swear I,” you keep trying to defend yourself, voice weak and defeated.

“Shh, stop it. I’m not mad at you,” he says.

“I killed,” you begin

“Y/n, stop,” he warns, “No you didn’t, stop blaming yourself right now.” He kisses the top of your head and holds you. You aren’t sure how long you lay like that, but by the time you two separate it’s dark outside.

“They want to induce me in two days,” you say as your hands fall to your stomach, as if cradling her will somehow bring her back and keep her safe. Jiyong takes a long deep breath and sighs.

“I’ll be right here with you, the whole time.”

-

It’s the day of the induction and your nerves are a mess.

“I can’t do this,” you tremble.

“Baby you have to, it could hurt you if we don’t,” you see his eyes gloss over, like he’s dissociating as bad as you want to. The doctor takes you back into a room and gives you the drugs necessary for delivery.

“All right, give me a push,” she says as you hold Jiyong’s hand give her a big push. After about half an hour you’re done, and you don't hear her cry like a healthy baby and your heart breaks into a million pieces.

You see the tiny lifeless body in her hands. You also see the umbilical cord in a knot as the doctors cut it. You realize she suffocated. You’re forced to push out the placenta, and the whole time your tears are flowing.

“Wait, let me hold her!” you cry once you’re finished with the process. They hand you the precious baby girl’s body. Jiyong takes a minute before he can look at her. She has his nose and mouth, your chin and eye shape.

“I’m so sorry baby girl,” you sob as you rock her and Jiyong can be heard sniffling. He wipes his tears away and you let him hold the tiny body.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers as he kisses her forehead and sobs full on now. You can’t help but put your hand on his arm. The two of you sit on the bed with your daughter’s body, trying to process and say goodbye.

“We need to take the body,” a nurse gently interrupts.

“Chea Min” you correct coldly.

“Her name is Chae Min,”

“I’m sorry,” is all she can say and you reluctantly hand over your precious baby girl.

If you enjoyed and would like to support me, buy me a coffee

Tags: @loveesiren @mashtatosworld @natalicss @multifanxtvshows

Chapter 10

[lila-lou]

✨The smarter choice - 5/8✨

Summary: The pull was undeniable—every glance, every touch, a spark. Dean was everything you shouldn’t want, yet resistance was futile.

Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, Angst

Word Count: 8859

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

Dean froze, his coffee mug halfway to his lips as he stared at his brother. Sam wasn’t looking at him, instead focusing on the coffee like it might keep him grounded. But what struck Dean the most wasn’t the words—it was the lack of emotion in Sam’s voice. He didn’t sound devastated. He didn’t even sound surprised.

“Wasn’t working?”, Dean echoed, setting his mug down with a clink. “And you’re… okay with that?”.

Sam shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling in a way that felt more resigned than sad. “I… yeah… kinda”, he admitted after a moment. “I mean, I saw it coming. Things have been… off for a while now”.

Dean frowned, his chest tightening as he watched Sam’s calm demeanor. “Off? How?”.

Sam finally looked up, meeting Dean’s gaze. “I don’t know”, he said, shaking his head. “She was sweet, you know? Great to talk to, really kind. But I think maybe…”. He hesitated, biting his lip before continuing. “Maybe we just didn’t fit the way I thought we would. It always felt like something was missing”.

Dean’s jaw clenched, his hands gripping the counter behind him as he tried to process what Sam was saying. “And you didn’t say anything?”, he asked, his voice quieter now.

“What was I supposed to say?”, Sam replied, his tone practical, not defensive. “It’s not like I didn’t try. But I think she realized it too. She deserves someone who makes her feel… complete. And I don’t think I was that guy”.

Dean’s chest tightened, a mix of emotions swirling inside him—relief, guilt and frustration all at once. He wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, he just nodded, picking up his coffee and taking another sip to buy himself time. “Guess it’s for the best, then”, he muttered, his voice even.

Sam nodded too, his lips quirking into a small, almost rueful smile. “Yeah. I think it is”.

Dean didn’t say anything more, but as he stood there, the weight of what had happened hit him all at once. You’d left. You’d broken things off with Sam.

Dean sat there, the bitterness of his coffee doing little to distract him from the storm raging in his mind.

“Sam’s the smarter choice”.

Why? Why had you said that, pushed him away so cruelly, when you’d already decided to leave Sam? It didn’t make sense. None of it did. Dean’s hands tightened around the mug, his knuckles whitening as frustration bubbled up inside him. If you’d already planned on breaking up with Sam today, why the hell would you say something like that to him? Why tear him apart when you didn’t have to?

“Dean?”, Sam’s voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the moment. His brother was watching him now, concern flickering across his face. “You good?”.

Dean blinked, realizing his grip on the mug was so tight it was starting to shake. He forced himself to relax, to put on the easy, casual mask he’d worn a thousand times before. “Yeah”, he said, his voice rough. “Just… surprised, I guess”.

Sam nodded slowly, clearly not entirely convinced, but he let it go. “I think it really is for the best”. he said again, more to himself than to Dean. “I mean, I care about her, but… I think we both knew it wasn’t going anywhere”.

Dean swallowed hard, his chest tightening at the words. He nodded, giving Sam a noncommittal grunt before grabbing his coffee and turning toward the hallway. “I’m gonna get cleaned up”, he muttered, not waiting for a response as he headed for his room.

Dean stepped into his room, setting the mug down on the dresser before shrugging out of his flannel. The motion pulled at the tender, bandaged wounds on his back and torso, a sharp reminder of the night before. He hissed softly, glancing at himself in the mirror on the opposite wall.

The reflection wasn’t pretty. His torso was a patchwork of bruises and bandages, the deep cuts still healing beneath the layers of gauze. He traced a hand over the edge of one bandage, his jaw tightening as his mind betrayed him, pulling him back to the memory of your hands on his skin.

Your touch had been gentle, careful, but there had been something else in the way your fingers moved—a quiet intimacy, a tenderness that lingered long after you’d finished patching him up. Dean could still feel the ghost of your touch, the warmth of your palms against his back, the way you’d whispered his name when you thought he was in too much pain.

He clenched his fist, resting it against the edge of the dresser as he looked away from the mirror. “Dammit”, he muttered under his breath, the frustration boiling over.

He couldn’t shake you, couldn’t forget the way you’d looked at him last night, even as you’d pushed him away. It wasn’t just about the words you’d said—it was the way your voice had trembled, the way your eyes had shimmered with unshed tears. You’d been trying to convince yourself just as much as you were trying to convince him.

Dean turned back to the mirror, running a hand through his hair as he took a steadying breath. He didn’t know what the hell to do with this, with any of it. But as much as he wanted to shove it all down, to bury it the way he always did, he couldn’t. Not this time. Not with you.

His fingers brushed the edge of the bandages again, and he closed his eyes, letting himself linger in the memory of your touch for just a moment longer. Then he straightened, shaking his head as if to clear it.

Dean reached for a clean shirt, carefully pulling it over his head and adjusting it to avoid pulling at the bandages.

A few days later, the bunker was quiet as the evening settled in. Dean sat in the war room, a beer in hand. He was trying to focus on anything other than the ache in his chest that hadn’t let up since you left.

The sound of his phone buzzing on the table snapped him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen: it was Sam.

“Hey”, Dean answered, his tone casual, though his brows furrowed slightly. “What’s up?”.

“I’m out with Jodie”, Sam said, his voice slightly muffled by the sound of background chatter. “But just a heads-up—Y/N said she’s stopping by the bunker tonight to grab her stuff”.

Dean froze, his grip tightening around the beer bottle. “She’s coming here?”, he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

“Yeah”, Sam confirmed, though there was a faint hesitation in his tone. “She didn’t want to bother me about it, so I told her to go ahead. Figured you’d be around, so it shouldn’t be a problem”.

Dean forced a grunt of acknowledgment, his chest tightening at the thought of seeing you again. “Yeah, no problem”, he said, though the words felt hollow.

“Thanks”, Sam said, clearly relieved. “She’ll probably just be in and out. I doubt she’ll hang around”.

Dean nodded to himself, his jaw clenching. “Yeah. Got it”.

“Alright, I’ll see you later”, Sam said, before hanging up.

Dean sat there for a moment, staring at the phone in his hand. He took a long swig of his beer. He wasn’t ready for this—not after everything that had happened—but there was no getting around it now.

A part of him hoped you’d just grab your things and leave without saying much, but another part of him—the part he was trying to bury—was desperate to see you, to find some kind of closure or clarity.

With a heavy sigh, Dean stood and made his way to the kitchen, grabbing another beer to steel himself. It wasn’t long before he heard the faint echo of the bunker’s heavy door creaking open, followed by the soft sound of footsteps descending the stairs.

You were here.

You stepped into the bunker quietly, the familiar hum of its lights and the faint smell of leather and gun oil wrapping around you like a memory you weren’t ready to revisit. Sam had said he’d be out with Jodie for the evening, so you assumed the place would be empty. That was the plan: grab your stuff, leave the key on the table, and go. No lingering, no messy goodbyes.

You moved quietly through the bunker, making your way toward Sam’s room. It wasn’t easy being back, but you told yourself this was the last time.

Your hands moved quickly as you gathered the last of your belongings from Sam’s room, folding clothes and tucking small items into a bag. The room felt cold, impersonal now, like it had already started erasing the traces of you. It made your chest tighten, but you pushed the feeling aside. This was for the best.

Once your bag was packed, you slung it over your shoulder and made your way toward the map room. The plan was to leave the key on the table and go without a second thought. But as you stepped into the room, your breath caught in your throat.

Dean was there.

He stood near the table, his broad shoulders slightly hunched, his posture more tense than usual. His bandaged torso was partially visible beneath his shirt, the edges of the gauze peeking out as a reminder of the injuries you’d patched up just a few nights ago. The sight made your stomach twist, a mix of guilt and something you couldn’t quite name.

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence between you was deafening, charged with the weight of everything left unsaid. You could see the strain in his posture, the way he leaned ever so slightly against the table for support. He looked tired—worn down in a way that went beyond the physical pain.

Dean’s voice broke the silence, rough and low. “Didn’t think I’d see you again”, he said, his tone carrying a mix of bitterness and something softer, something almost vulnerable.

You froze, your grip tightening on the strap of your bag. “I didn’t think anyone was here”, you said softly, your voice barely audible.

Dean let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well. Here I am”..

Dean’s gaze locked on you, his eyes narrowing slightly, a mix of frustration and curiosity flickering behind them. He shifted his weight, leaning more heavily on the table as he crossed his arms. The movement made him wince slightly, but he didn’t seem to care—or maybe he didn’t want you to notice.

“So”, he started, his voice low and sharp, the bitterness cutting through the heavy silence. “Why’d you break up with Sammy?”.

You blinked, caught off guard by the directness of his question. “I… Dean, I don’t think—”.

“No, no”, he interrupted, holding up a hand, his tone edging toward sarcasm. “Don’t pull that. You walk in here, grab your stuff, act like everything’s fine, but you break it off with Sam just hours after telling me he’s the ‘smarter choice’”. His lips curled into a faint, humorless smirk. “Care to explain how that works?”.

Your stomach twisted, guilt and frustration bubbling to the surface as you looked away, unable to hold his gaze. “It’s complicated”, you said quietly, your voice faltering.

“Complicated”, Dean repeated, his voice dripping with disbelief. “You told me he was the right call, shoved it in my face like I was some… mistake you didn’t want to make, and then you dumped him. That doesn’t sound complicated—it sounds like bullshit”.

You flinched at his words, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag as you tried to keep your composure. “It wasn’t like that”, you said, your voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt either of you”.

Dean let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Well, congrats, sweetheart. Mission failed”.

The sharpness of his tone stung, but what hurt more was the look in his eyes—raw and wounded, like he was holding himself together by a thread. “I broke up with Sam because it wasn’t fair to him”, you said, your voice firmer now as you met his gaze. “I realized I couldn’t be what he needed”.

“And what about me?”, Dean shot back, his voice rising slightly. “You couldn’t even look me in the eye when you told me he was the ‘smarter choice’. Was that for my benefit? To make sure I knew I wasn’t good enough?”.

“That’s not what I meant”, you said quickly, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “I was trying to protect—”.

“Protect who?”, Dean interrupted, his jaw tightening. “Me? Sam? Or yourself?”.

The question hung in the air, heavy and damning, and you felt your chest tighten as you struggled to find an answer. The truth was, you didn’t know anymore. You’d convinced yourself you were doing the right thing, but now, standing here in front of Dean, everything felt like it was unraveling.

Your voice trembled as you finally whispered the truth, the words you’d been holding back for too long. “I didn’t want to break you and Sam apart”.

Dean froze, his jaw clenching as your words sank in. He stared at you, his eyes searching your face, his emotions flashing like a storm—anger, frustration, surprise, and something softer, something he wasn’t ready to name.

“Break us apart?”, he repeated, his voice quieter now, the sharp edge fading just slightly. “That’s what you thought this was about?”.

You looked down, unable to hold his gaze. “What else could it be about, Dean?”, you said softly. “You and Sam… You’ve been through everything together. The last thing I wanted was to come between you. I thought it would be best if none of you wanted me anymore”.

Dean let out a shaky exhale. He didn’t say anything at first, and the silence was deafening.

Finally, he turned back, his expression unreadable. “You really think me and Sammy would let this—”, he gestured vaguely between you and himself, his voice faltering—“tear us apart?”.

You blinked, startled by the sudden vulnerability in his tone. “Wouldn’t it?”, you asked, your voice barely audible.

Dean shook his head, letting out a humorless laugh as he leaned back against the table, his arms crossed over his chest. “You don’t get it, do you?”, he said, his voice rough but steadier now. “Me and Sam—we’ve been through hell. Literally. You think something like this would be enough to break us?”.

You didn’t know how to respond. The way he said it—so certain, so resolute—made your chest ache.

Dean’s eyes softened, though the frustration in his voice remained. “I’m not saying it wouldn’t have been messy. Hell, it already is. But you’re wrong if you think Sam and I can’t handle this”.

He let out another laugh, quieter this time, as he dropped his gaze to the floor. “You know what’s funny? I didn’t even realize how close I was to crossing that line. Taking something I had no right to take. And you’re standing here acting like it’s all on you”.

Dean’s eyes locked on yours again, sharp and unrelenting, but your quiet words cut through the space between you.

“Cheating on your boyfriend with his big brother? It’s not my style”, you whispered, your voice trembling but firm. “Breaking up with my boyfriend to be with his brother either”.

Dean flinched at your words, his jaw tightening as if they physically hit him, but he didn’t interrupt. He just stood there, his hands gripping the edge of the table, his knuckles white as he listened.

“So just leaving seems like the best option, doesn’t it?”, you mumbled, your eyes dropping to the floor. You hugged your arms around yourself, trying to protect against the vulnerability that came with speaking the truth. “Clean break, no mess, no… fallout”.

Dean’s laugh was bitter, a sharp contrast to the rawness in your tone. “Yeah, that’s a hell of a plan”, he said, his voice rough and biting. “Except it’s a little late for no fallout, don’t you think?”.

You winced, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen”, you said softly, looking up at him again. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone”.

Dean shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “You didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did”, he said, his voice quieter now, though no less intense. “And now you’re running. Because what? You’re scared? You think this is the only way to fix it?”.

You stared at him, your breath hitching as his words hit closer to home than you wanted to admit. “What else am I supposed to do, Dean?”, you asked, your voice breaking slightly. “Tell me. What’s the right answer here?”.

Dean’s gaze softened, the frustration in his expression fading as he exhaled deeply. He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours, and for a moment, the intensity between you was almost unbearable.

“I don’t know”, he admitted, his voice low and raw. “But I know this? You leaving? Acting like this didn’t happen? That’s not the answer. It’s just you running from it”.

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning, and for the first time, you saw the depth of his own struggle. Dean wasn’t just angry or hurt—he was just as lost as you were, and maybe even more afraid of what came next.

But what could you do? The path forward still felt impossible, no matter how much you wanted to believe otherwise. You looked away, biting your lip as you tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

Dean’s voice dropped lower, rough with frustration and something that felt dangerously close to desperation. “Look at me”, he demanded, his tone steady but insistent. “Tell me you don’t want this”.

You couldn’t. Your throat tightened as your chest ached with guilt and shame. You shook your head, refusing to meet his gaze. Your eyes were glassy, tears threatening to spill as you clutched your arms around yourself, like holding on to something solid might keep you from breaking apart completely.

“Y/N”, Dean said again, his voice harder this time, the edge in it cutting through the air like a blade. “Look at me”.

But you couldn’t. You shook your head again, a tear slipping down your cheek as you quickly brushed it away with trembling fingers. “Don’t”, you whispered, your voice breaking. “Please don’t”.

Dean’s jaw clenched, his frustration palpable, but he didn’t step back. Instead, he closed the distance between you, his presence overwhelming. He stood just inches away, his eyes boring into you as he tried to force you to meet his gaze.

“I need to hear you say it”, he said, his tone quieter now, but no less intense. “Say you don’t want this. Don´t want me. Say it so I can walk away”.

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest as the tears continued to fall. “I can’t”, you admitted, your voice trembling, barely above a whisper. “I can’t say it”.

Dean’s breath hitched, his shoulders sagging slightly as your words hung in the air. He reached out as if to touch you, but stopped himself, his hand falling back to his side. “Then why?”, he asked, his voice raw, breaking. “Why are you doing this to yourself? To me?”.

Your hands covered your face as a sob escaped you, your emotions spilling over. “Because it’s wrong”, you cried, your voice muffled and shaky. “Because I shouldn’t feel this way. I shouldn’t have let it happen”.

Dean took a step closer, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “You think I wanted this?”, he asked, his tone heavy with his own guilt. “You think I woke up one day and decided to fall for my brother’s girl?”.

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, raw and unfiltered, and they only made the ache in your chest worse. You let out a shaky breath, your hands falling from your face as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. The pain in his eyes was almost unbearable, a reflection of everything you were feeling but couldn’t bring yourself to say.

“Dean”, you whispered, your voice trembling, “I don’t know what to do”.

Dean shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips as he let out a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, join the club”, he said, his voice rough but quiet. “You think I’ve got this figured out? I’ve been trying like hell to stay away from you, to do the right thing. But every time I see you, every time you walk in the room… it’s like I can’t breathe”.

Your heart broke at his confession, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through all the defenses you’d built up. “I never wanted to hurt you”, you said, the tears streaming down your face freely now. “Or Sam. I just… I didn’t mean for this to happen”.

Dean stepped closer, his hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t dare. “Neither did I”, he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it did. And now we’re here”.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and charged, every second feeling like an eternity. Dean’s jaw tightened, his emotions warring visibly on his face, before he finally reached out. His rough, calloused fingers slid under your chin, tilting your face up toward his with a gentle but firm insistence.

“Look at me”, he demanded again, his voice low and rough, the edge of frustration tempered by something softer—something desperate.

You hesitated, the tears still clinging to your lashes, but you couldn’t resist. Slowly, you let your eyes meet his, and the intensity in his green gaze nearly stole the breath from your lungs. He was so close now, the heat of him radiating into the space between you. If he wasn’t so much taller, his breath would’ve mingled with yours, but the height difference only made him feel more overwhelming, more commanding.

“Do you feel this?”, he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, raw and unsteady. His thumb brushed against your jawline, sending a shiver down your spine. “Tell me I’m crazy. Tell me I’m the only one losing my mind here”.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. You wanted to deny it, to push him away for his own sake—for your own—but the truth was right there, plain and undeniable, written in the way your body leaned ever so slightly toward his, drawn to him like a magnet.

“Dean…”, you whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to find something, anything, to say.

“No”, he cut you off, his tone rough but laced with something pleading. His hand stayed firm on your chin, holding your gaze captive. “No excuses. No running. Just… tell me. Do you feel it?”.

Your chest heaved with the weight of your emotions, your tears spilling over as you nodded, the motion small but enough to shatter whatever resolve was left in him. “Yes”, you whispered, the word barely audible.

Dean exhaled sharply, his eyes closing briefly as if the confession had hit him like a physical blow. When he opened them again, they were darker, more intense. His other hand came up to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.

Dean’s eyes darkened, his gaze flicking to your lips for the briefest moment before he moved. His hands, strong and calloused, gripped your waist suddenly, completely enveloping you as if you weighed nothing. With an effortless motion, he lifted you off your feet and placed you on the edge of the table, the thud of your bag hitting the ground echoing faintly in the background.

You barely had a second to react before his lips crashed onto yours.

The kiss was anything but gentle—it was desperate, heated, full of all the tension and longing that had been building for so long. Dean’s hands stayed firmly on your waist, his fingers digging in slightly, grounding both of you in the moment. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that left you breathless, stealing every coherent thought from your mind.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer, feeling the solid warmth of his body against yours. Dean groaned softly, the sound vibrating through you as his hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing against your ribs in a way that made your pulse race even faster.

Your body moved instinctively, your legs wrapping around Dean’s waist as if to pull him even closer. The movement brought you flush against him, and the unmistakable hardness pressing against your core sent a shockwave through you.

Dean froze for a moment, his breath hitching against your lips as his grip on your waist tightened. Then a deep, guttural groan rumbled from his chest, the sound reverberating into your mouth as he kissed you harder, his restraint crumbling under the weight of his desire.

Dean’s hands trembled slightly as they moved up your sides, and with one swift motion, he tugged your shirt upward. His lips left yours just long enough to pull it over your head, tossing it to the floor without a second thought. When his eyes returned to you, they darkened, his gaze lingering on your bare chest.

“Damn it”, he muttered, his voice low and gravelly, filled with awe and hunger as he drank in the sight of you. “You really don’t believe in wearing a damn bra, do you?”.

Your cheeks flushed, heat creeping up your neck at his words, but before you could respond, Dean’s hands were on you again. With one swift motion, he lifted you from the table, pulling you against him as if you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist again, and you grabbed onto his shoulders for support, your fingers brushing over the bandages on his back.

Dean let out a quiet grunt, his jaw tightening as he tried not to wince. “Careful”, he muttered, though there was no real irritation in his voice—just a reminder of the wounds he carried.

“Sorry”, you murmured, your voice soft and breathless as your hands adjusted their grip, trying to avoid pressing into his injuries. But the way his chest was pressed against yours, the heat of his body seeping into you, made your heart race uncontrollably.

Dean’s lips brushed against your ear, his breath warm as he whispered, “Don’t apologize. Just hold on”.

Dean moved with purpose, his hands firm but careful as he guided you back, laying you gently onto his bed. The mattress dipped under your weight, and you felt the coolness of the sheets against your heated skin as your chest heaved, matching his labored breaths.

His hazel eyes locked onto yours for a moment, his expression dark and filled with unspoken promises. Then his gaze dropped lower, drinking in the sight of you, every inch of your body laid out for him. His hands slid down your sides, hooking into the waistband of your jeans. With a deliberate slowness that made your breath hitch, he began tugging them down, taking your panties with them in one smooth motion.

The room felt impossibly still as Dean straightened slightly, his eyes falling to the exposed skin between your thighs. He exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching as his hands tightened slightly on your hips.

The weight of his eyes, the heat radiating from his body, only made the ache between your thighs grow stronger. Every second of the last few months—every glance, every teasing smirk, every low, rumbling word from his lips—flashed through your mind, amplifying the raw, electric need coursing through you.

You had spent so long denying yourself this, so long pretending the tension between you didn’t exist, and now, with Dean’s hands on your skin and his body so close, it felt like the dam had finally broken. Your body trembled under his touch, every nerve alight with anticipation.

Dean let out a low groan, the sound deep and primal, as he slid his hands down to your thighs, his fingers tracing the soft skin there with an almost reverent care. “You’re soaked”, he muttered, his voice rough and thick with desire. “I haven’t even started, and you’re already—”. He cut himself off, shaking his head slightly as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Your cheeks flushed, but the heat in his voice sent another wave of arousal through you, making you gasp softly. “Dean”, you whispered, your voice trembling as you reached out, your fingers brushing against his forearm. “Please”.

The single word seemed to snap something in him. His hands tightened on your thighs, spreading them slightly as he leaned down, his breath ghosting over your skin. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me”, he murmured, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Every time I looked at you, every time I heard your voice… I wanted this. Wanted you”.

You shivered beneath him, your heart racing as his words sank in, the truth in them only fueling the fire in your core. “Then take me”, you whispered, your voice breaking with need. “Please, Dean”.

Dean didn’t hesitate for a second. His green eyes flicked up to meet yours, and as he held your gaze, a slow, predatory smirk spread across his lips. The intensity in his eyes was magnetic, and you couldn’t look away, even as your cheeks flushed and your breath hitched in anticipation.

He licked his lips, his hands sliding further up your thighs as he spread your legs wide for him. The cool air hit your heated skin, making you shiver, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating from him as he lowered himself between your legs. The rough scruff of his jaw brushed against your inner thigh, sending a ripple of sensation through you, and then his mouth was on you.

Dean’s tongue pressed flat against your slit, but he didn’t move. He held you there, his eyes locked on yours, his grip on your thighs firm and grounding. The look on his face—like he was savoring you, consuming every part of this moment—was the most intoxicating thing you’d ever seen. You gasped softly, your hips instinctively arching toward him, but his hands tightened, holding you in place.

“Stay still”, he murmured against you, the vibration of his voice sending a shockwave through your core. His lips curled into a smirk as he inhaled deeply, his nose brushing against your sensitive skin. “You smell so fucking good”.

Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as his tongue finally began to move, slow and deliberate. He traced a line from your entrance to your clit, his movements precise and teasing, like he was testing how far he could push you before you fell apart. When his tongue finally circled your clit, your back arched involuntarily, a broken moan escaping your lips.

Dean groaned in response, the sound low and guttural, vibrating against you. His eyes never left yours, the connection between you so raw, so electric, it left you breathless. He worked you with a confidence that was almost maddening, his tongue and lips exploring every inch of you, coaxing sounds from you that you didn’t even know you were capable of making.

“You’re so damn sweet”, he muttered, his voice thick with desire as he kissed your swollen clit. “I could stay here all night”.

You were a shivering, moaning mess under Dean’s relentless attention, every flick of his tongue and press of his lips sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. Your fingers tangled in the sheets, your back arching as his mouth worked you over with an intensity that left you breathless. Each sound you made only seemed to spur him on more, his groans of approval vibrating against your sensitive skin.

Dean lapped at your juices like a man starved, his tongue dragging along your folds before circling your clit again and again. His grip on your thighs was firm, his fingers digging in almost painfully as he held you open for him. The contrast between the pressure of his hands and the soft, wet heat of his mouth only heightened your arousal, making you cry out louder.

He pulled back for the briefest moment, his lips glistening as he looked up at you, his green eyes dark with lust. But then his mouth was on you again, his tongue plunging into your entrance, and all coherent thought disappeared.

Your hips bucked against his face, and he groaned against you. His hands tightened their grip on your thighs, holding you firmly in place as he devoured you, his tongue and lips working together to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck”, he growled against you, his breath hot as he pulled back just long enough to kiss your inner thigh, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect”.

His words, his touch, his voice—all of it overwhelmed you, your body trembling uncontrollably as the coil in your stomach tightened. You were close, so close, and he knew it. Dean’s mouth returned to your clit, his tongue circling with a deliberate precision that had you crying out his name, your hands reaching down to grip his hair as your body begged for release.

He knew exactly what he was doing, reading your every gasp, moan, and twitch like a map leading him to exactly where you needed him to be. His lips sealed around your clit, and he sucked gently before flicking his tongue against it again, the sensation so intense that it sent shudders racing up your spine.

“Dean—”, you choked out, your voice trembling, your body straining as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your core.

“That’s it”, he muttered against you, his breath hot and ragged as he spoke between licks. “Let go for me, sweetheart. I’ve got you”.

His words, low and commanding, tipped you over the edge. The coil in your stomach snapped, and pleasure exploded through you, a tidal wave of sensation so intense it left you shaking. Your back arched off the bed as a loud, broken moan tore from your throat, your entire body trembling uncontrollably as you came harder than you ever had before.

Dean didn’t let up, his tongue continuing to work you through your climax, slower now but still firm and deliberate, drawing out every last wave of pleasure. His hands held your thighs steady, even as they quivered under his grip, his strength grounding you in the overwhelming intensity of the moment.

Your vision blurred, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you gasped for breath, your body completely at his mercy. Dean finally slowed, his lips placing soft, lingering kisses along your inner thighs as your trembling began to subside.

When you opened your eyes, he was watching you, his gaze filled with a mix of satisfaction and hunger as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “That”, he murmured, his voice low and rough, “was the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen”.

You couldn’t respond, still catching your breath as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you. Your heart raced as he leaned up, his face hovering just above yours, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that tasted and smelled so much like you.

Dean’s lips moved against yours with an urgency that matched the heat coursing through your veins. As his tongue traced the seam of your lips, his hands worked quickly, tugging at his shirt. He broke the kiss only long enough to yank it over his head, revealing the bruises and bandages that covered his torso—the work you had meticulously done just a few days ago.

Your eyes roamed over him, the rough edges of his body, the scars, the muscles. He was raw and unpolished, but it only made him more captivating. Dean caught the way you looked at him, a flicker of a smirk crossing his lips even as his breathing remained heavy.

“Gotta be a bit easy on me, sweetheart”, he murmured against your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. His lips pressed gently along the curve of your throat, a soft contrast to the heat building between you. Even as he spoke, his hips pressed closer, guiding his hard, swollen length against your slick folds.

The sound of him groaning softly into your ear as his tip slipped through your wetness made your mind spiral into mush. He moved slowly, deliberately, dragging his cock up and down through your folds, the friction making you gasp. Your body trembled at the sensation, your hips instinctively tilting up to meet him.

Your breath hitched as he teased your entrance, the tip of his cock sliding just far enough to stretch you before slipping away again. He was toying with you, building the tension back up even though you were still coming down from the high of your climax.

“Dean”, you gasped, your voice breathy and desperate as you clutched at his shoulders. Your fingers grazed the bandages, but he didn’t flinch, too focused on the feel of you beneath him.

He chuckled softly, his voice low and gravelly as he tilted his head to capture your lips again. “Patience, sweetheart”, he murmured, though the strain in his voice betrayed just how close he was to losing control. “Just wan´t to feel you for a sec. Don’t want to rush this”.

But you couldn’t wait. Your body was already on fire, your thighs trembling as you shifted beneath him, trying to get more of him where you needed him most. Your breath was labored, and all you could do was nod, your brain too foggy to form coherent words.

Dean’s lips curved into a small smile against your neck as he finally lined himself up, the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance with just enough pressure to make you whimper.

Dean’s brow furrowed as he felt you shift beneath him, your hips tilting up just enough to make his tip sink barely an inch deeper into your slick, inviting heat. The sensation pulled a low, guttural groan from him, his jaw clenching as he gripped your hips tighter.

“Nah-uh”, he murmured, his voice a strained mix of authority and desire. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, as he tried to regain control. “You keep that up, and this is gonna be over before it even starts”.

Your breath hitched, the rasp in his voice and the weight of his gaze making your heart race. Another soft whimper escaped you, and you felt his cock twitch against your entrance, thick and hot, teasing but not yet giving you what you so desperately needed.

“Dean, please”, you whispered, your voice trembling with need. Your hands slid up his shoulders, brushing against the bandages as your fingers curled into his hair. “I need—”.

“I know”, he cut you off, his voice low and gravelly, but his movements didn’t change. His hips rocked forward just slightly, his tip slipping through your wetness but stopping before he pushed inside. “Trust me, I know”.

The tension in his body was palpable, every muscle coiled tight as he tried to hold himself back. You could see it in the way his arms trembled slightly, in the sharp exhale through his nose as he fought against the overwhelming urge to take you fully.

“You feel so damn good”, he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear as he pressed a kiss to your neck, his stubble grazing your skin. “Better than I ever let myself imagine”.

You gasped softly, your body arching into his as the heat between you grew unbearable. Your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him closer, and this time, his restraint faltered. He pushed forward, the thick head of his cock slipping past your entrance, stretching you just enough to make you cry out softly.

Dean stilled, his breath ragged. “That okay?”, he asked, his voice softer now, though his need was still evident in every strained word.

You nodded quickly, your hands clutching at his shoulders. “Yes”, you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation. “Don’t stop”.

His jaw tightened, his gaze burning into yours as he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. Slowly, carefully, he pushed deeper, each inch sending a wave of pleasure through your body until he was fully seated inside you, his hips flush against yours.

The stretch was overwhelming, but the way he filled you was perfect, the heat of him grounding you as you both struggled to catch your breath. Dean’s forehead dropped to yours, his hand sliding up to cradle the side of your face as he held himself still, giving you a moment to adjust.

“Fuck Baby”, he muttered, his voice rough and filled with awe. “You’re gonna ruin me”.

Dean froze at your whispered words, his breath hitching as your confession sliced through the haze of pleasure. “You already ruined me”. The vulnerability in your voice, so quiet yet so raw, hit him like a punch to the chest.

He stared at you for a beat, his eyes dark with emotion. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your flushed skin as though trying to memorize the moment. Then, without a word, he lowered his head to your neck, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below your jaw. He kissed you there, slow and deliberate.

The next second, Dean pulled out completely, the sudden emptiness making you gasp. But before you could even form a protest, he thrust back into you in one deep, powerful motion. The force of it sent your body sliding up the bed slightly, your head pressing against the headboard as a cry tore from your lips.

“Dean!”, you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as pleasure surged through you.

“That’s it”, Dean groaned against your neck, his voice deep and guttural, the sound vibrating through your skin. “Say my name like that again”.

He pulled back and slammed into you again, his movements deliberate and intense, each thrust sending you higher. Your legs tightened around his waist, your body arching to meet him as the bed creaked beneath the rhythm he set. Every movement, every press of his hips against yours, hit a spot so deep inside you that you couldn’t hold back the cries and whimpers spilling from your lips.

“You feel so good”, Dean muttered, his lips dragging along your neck before capturing your earlobe between his teeth. “So damn tight—like you were made for me”.

His words sent another wave of heat crashing over you, your nails raking down his back as your head tilted back, exposing more of your neck to him. Dean took full advantage, his lips and tongue trailing along your skin as his hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he drove into you with relentless precision.

Dean didn’t care about the searing pain in his back or the sting of his wounds reopening. None of it mattered. The only thing he cared about was you—your body arching beneath him, your breathless cries filling the room, and the way his name spilled from your lips.

“Dean”, you gasped, your voice breaking as his thrusts became deeper, harder, each one hitting a spot that made your vision blur. Your nails scraped against his shoulders, your legs trembling as they tightened around his waist, desperate to pull him even closer.

“That’s it”, Dean growled, his voice rough and low, thick with desire. “Say it again. Let me hear you”.

He angled his hips, driving into you with a precision that made your entire body quake. The rhythm was relentless, each thrust sending a shockwave of pleasure through you so intense that you didn’t know whether you were sobbing or moaning. Your chest heaved, the air leaving your lungs in shallow gasps as your hands clung to him for dear life.

“Dean!”, you cried out again, your voice raw with need, and the sound spurred him on even more. His hands gripped your hips tighter, almost bruising, as he pulled you against him with every thrust, as if he wanted to make sure you felt every inch of him, every ounce of his strength.

“Shit”, he muttered, his breath hot against your ear as he dipped his head to press open-mouthed kisses along your neck. “You’re perfect. Fucking perfect”. His voice broke slightly, the strain in it revealing just how much he was holding back. “You’re mine, sweetheart. Mine”.

Your body arched beneath him at his words, the possessiveness in his tone sending a fresh wave of heat through you. You didn’t fight it, couldn’t even think of denying it. Every thrust, every touch, every look in his eyes told you this was where you belonged.

“Dean”, you sobbed, your voice trembling as the coil in your stomach tightened to an unbearable degree. “I—I can’t—”.

“Yes, you can”, he growled, his lips brushing against yours as his pace quickened, his movements more erratic now, driven by pure instinct.

Dean’s lips brushed against your ear, his breath hot and heavy as his voice dropped into a commanding growl. “Come for me”, he ordered, his tone low and rough, each word sending a shiver through your entire body. “Now”.

The intensity in his voice, the raw power of his demand, pushed you over the edge. The coil in your core snapped violently, sending a wave of pleasure crashing over you so overwhelming that your entire body trembled. A broken cry tore from your throat, your voice raw and hoarse as his name spilled from your lips again and again.

“Dean!”, you sobbed, your nails digging into his shoulders as your body arched against him. The world blurred, every nerve alight as the waves of your orgasm surged through you, leaving you completely at his mercy. Your thighs clenched around his waist, your hips bucking as he continued to thrust into you, each movement prolonging your climax until you felt like you might shatter.

Dean groaned deeply, his grip on your hips tightening as he watched you fall apart beneath him. “That’s my girl”, he muttered, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction.

His words only made the pleasure burn hotter, the aftershocks rippling through you as you struggled to catch your breath.

Dean’s movements slowed, his thrusts becoming deeper, more deliberate, as his breathing grew heavier and more ragged. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes locked on you as his grip on your hips tightened. His body trembled above you, the tension coiling in him evident in every line of his frame.

“You’re so fucking beautiful”, he groaned, his voice low and strained, filled with awe and raw need.

And then you felt it—Dean’s body stiffening as he let out a guttural moan, his hips pressing flush against yours. He spilled deep inside you, the warmth of him filling you completely, and the sensation made your breath hitch. His name fell from your lips in a whisper, the intimacy of the moment making your chest ache.

Dean’s hands slid up your sides, his touch softer now as he tried to steady himself. His lips brushed against your temple, the gentleness of the gesture a stark contrast to the passion that had just consumed you both. His forehead rested against yours again as his breathing slowed, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. The only sounds were your mingled breaths, the quiet hum of the bunker around you, and the steady thrum of your heartbeat in your ears. Dean stayed close, his arms wrapping around you as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

Your hands slid up to his back, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles as you held him close, your body still trembling slightly from the aftermath of everything you’d just shared. You didn’t say anything—words felt unnecessary in the face of the connection between you, raw and undeniable.

Dean finally pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to commit every detail of your face to memory. His thumb brushed against your cheek, a small, tender smile tugging at his lips.

And in that moment, it was as if nothing else in the world mattered but the two of you.

But the peaceful silence was shattered by the sound of Sam’s voice echoing through the bunker, calling your name.

“Y/N?”, he shouted, his voice closer than either of you expected. “What’s going on? Why’s your stuff out here?”.

Your eyes widened in panic, the sound jolting you out of the intimacy of the moment. Dean was still buried inside you, his warmth and the evidence of what had just happened making your cheeks flush. You opened your mouth to say something, but Dean’s hand quickly covered it, his green eyes locked on yours as he motioned with his other hand for you to keep quiet.

“Shh”, he mouthed, his lips curving into the faintest, almost mischievous grin.

“Dean?”, Sam’s voice came again, closer now, accompanied by the sound of his footsteps. “You seen (Y/N)?”.

Dean groaned softly, his head tilting back as if the interruption had physically pained him. He pulled his hand away from your mouth, gave you a look that practically begged for your cooperation, and then called out, “I’m in the middle of something, Sammy! Can it wait?”.

You stared at him, your eyes wide with disbelief as he casually spoke while still inside you, his body pressed flush against yours. He caught your look and winked, his smirk growing as he shifted his hips ever so slightly, drawing a sharp gasp from you that you barely managed to stifle.

Sam hesitated, clearly trying to process the situation. “In the middle of what?”, he asked, his tone suspicious.

Dean groaned again, this time louder, as if he were exasperated. “Come on, man”, he called, his voice carrying a rough, teasing edge. “Let’s just say I’m having a little ‘me time’ and leave it at that”.

The silence that followed was deafening, but after a beat, Sam let out an awkward grunt. “Damn it, Dean. A little warning next time”, he muttered, his footsteps retreating. “I’ll figure it out myself”.

You slapped Dean’s shoulder lightly, your face burning as you tried not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “Seriously?”, you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Dean grinned, leaning down to brush a kiss against your temple. “Worked, didn’t it?”, he murmured, his hands sliding back to your hips as he shifted slightly, reminding you exactly where he still was.

“Dean”, you said, your voice a mix of exasperation and breathless amusement.

His grin widened, and he kissed you again, his lips soft but filled with a mischievous hunger that promised he wasn’t done with you yet. “Now, where were we?”, he asked, his voice dropping to that gravelly tone that made your breath hitch all over again.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

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[eclipixels]

Signature Dish

Kakashi Hatake x Reader

Content: History seems to repeat itself…

[1,086 words]

      You had no missions for the next two weeks, thank lord fourth for that. With nothing major on your plate, you spent the day running simple errands. After returning from the grocery store, an idea struck you—why not surprise the kids with a homemade lunch?

      Well, not your kids, obviously. But you treated them like they were. Especially Sasuke. Out of all the adults in Sasuke’s life, he just seemed to click with you. And also because he needed all the emotional support he could get. The last thing you wanted was for him to end up like Orochimaru, Nagato, or Madara. The Uchiha clan really had a history of issues… yikes.

      You couldn’t help but chuckle, remembering the time Naruto broke into your house, with Sasuke and Sakura trailing behind, desperately trying to stop him. Of course, he didn’t listen. He somehow found this dish you had been perfecting, and before you knew it, all three of them were on the kitchen floor, faces stuffed. The noises they made were so chaotic that you and Kakashi had genuinely thought a tailed beast had invaded.

      For lunch today, you decided to make that same dish. You packed everything neatly into a golden woven basket, along with some cups, a teapot, and green tea leaves.

      As you left the house and made your way toward the training field, you recalled Kakashi mentioning that today’s session was in the forest nearby. Great. More walking. Why did your husband have to drag these kids out to the middle of nowhere for training?

      Once inside the forest, you spotted their distinct hair colors from afar. As you got closer, you could see they were still training. Kakashi noticed you first, offering a subtle smile before calling for a break.

      “Finally! I thought we were never gonna stop," Naruto groaned, plopping onto a rock under the shade.

      ”Sensei!" Sakura was the first to call out as soon as she spotted you.

      "Huh? Y/n Sensei? What’re you doing here?" Naruto ran toward you while Sakura threw herself into a tight hug.

      "I made you guys lunch! It’s Y/n’s special. You know, the one you broke into our house for," you teased, placing the basket on a nearby log.

      "Yes! I love the food you make, it’s always the best!" Naruto cheered.

      "Way better than anything from a restaurant!" Sakura added, practically glowing with excitement.

      "Tch." Sasuke, as expected, sat a little farther away from the group, arms crossed.

      Leaning in close, you whispered to Kakashi, "Hey, why don’t you set up the food? I’ll be right back."

      You made your way over to Sasuke, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I made lunch for everyone. Come eat with us?"

      "I’m gonna keep practicing. You guys go ahead. I’m not even that hungry," he muttered.

      "Really? I made my signature dish. I thought that was your favorite," you said, frowning slightly.

      "Whatever. I don’t even like it that much—" His words were cut off by the loud growl of his stomach.

      You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

      Sasuke scowled but said nothing as you grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward the others.

      Lunch was lively. Naruto and Sakura showered you with praise, while Kakashi casually enjoyed his food, lost in thought. You noticed the team had gotten stronger, and you couldn’t wait to see them take on higher-ranked missions.

      "Oh, by the way," Kakashi chimed in between bites, "your advice about Naruto and Sasuke combining their jutsus actually worked."

      "Wait, seriously? What did you guys create?" You perked up, feeling a rush of pride.

      "Rasengan Chidori!" Naruto blurted out, his mouth still full.

      "It’s Chidori Rasengan, you idiot," Sasuke huffed.

      "I think Rasengan Chidori rolls off the tongue better, don’t ya think?" Naruto argued.

      You laughed. "Are you two really fighting over whose jutsu name comes first? Why not come up with a completely new one together?"

      "The lightning thunderball of doom…gan!" Naruto exclaimed, thrusting his fist into the air, looking way too proud of himself.

      Everyone just stared.

      "What? Whatever, we’ll figure it out later," Sasuke grumbled, sipping his tea.

      “It’s a work in progress.” Naruto shrugged.

      Kakashi, meanwhile, remained deep in thought, his gaze distant. You wondered what was on his mind.

      That evening, far from the training grounds, Minato and Kushina sat together after a long day.

      "Why hasn’t Naruto come home yet?" Kushina asked, settling beside her husband.

      "Oh, there he is." Minato nodded toward the door as Naruto walked in. Speak of the devil.

      "Hey, what took you so long?" Kushina asked.

      "Sorry! Y/N-sensei brought us lunch and then stuck around to watch us train. We got carried away," Naruto explained, rubbing the back of his head.

      Minato’s nose twitched. "You smell like… wait. Did you eat Y/n’s signature dish?"

      Naruto blinked. "Yeah? How’d you know?"

      Kushina chuckled. "Everyone knows about it, it’s delicious."

      Minato shook his head with a small laugh. "I remember when you used to bring lunch for my team, Kushina. You always brought ‘Kushina’s Special.’"

      "Well, well, history repeats itself. But I think Y/N’s might be my new competition," Kushina teased.

      —

      Later that night, as the cool summer breeze drifted through the open windows, Kakashi lay on your lap, his head resting against your thigh while the glow of the TV flickered across the room.

      "Y’know," he murmured, "you bringing lunch today felt really nostalgic."

      You absentmindedly ran your fingers through his silver hair. "Really? How so?"

      "Kushina used to do the same for us—me, Obito, and Rin. Watching you with Sasuke today reminded me a lot of how she was with Obito. Almost exactly the same."

      Your eyes widened. "Wait. There was a Kushina’s Special?!" You gasped, suddenly panicking. "Oh my God, what’s wrong with me?! I have to change the name of my recipe! No—no, I have to erase it from existence! Ah—"

      Kakashi grabbed your face, cutting off your meltdown. "Calm down, Y/N. You’re going to wake the entire village."

      "B-but—"

      "She wouldn’t even care that much," he assured you, rolling his eyes.

      You squinted. "You sure?"

      "Positive."

      Letting out a deep sigh, you finally relaxed. "Phew! Almost lost my mind there." You laughed.

      Kakashi just stared at you.

      "Why are you looking at me like that?" you deadpanned before casually shoving him off the couch.

      "H-hey!" He tried to grab onto something—anything—but ultimately failed, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

      He really just tried to grab air. You couldn’t stop laughing.

[brinksnow]

stage fright 12/03/25 spoilers :]

here are my little observations of the night :]

- the audience was so rowdy tonight and you could just tell that they both LOVED that.

- reece started genuinely laughing during the puppet sketch, especially after the whole “where does your colon go? up your bum!” bit.

- all 3 times a kidnapped celebrity has been unmasked while i’m there, reece has absolutely died of laughter

- david walliams! certainly played into the whole “posh twat” thing very much so. started out by practically listing his whole entire imdb page, then the “i’ve sold 60 million copies of my childrens books, and that’s just today!” len and tommy then went on to make fun of him for being in the pudsey dog movie, which i did completely forget happened ??? jesus what a memory

- len kept getting britain’s got talent wrong. “brian’s got talent” and “kitten’s got talent” were two of a few.

- david was surprisingly very into the flamenco dancing, and even did practically a whole verse of the improvised song. he was also the best trumpet player out of all 3 celeb guests i’ve seen, but that’s not saying much

- his accent work was not great tho. they practically dropped the whole joke because he went “but guys i don’t do accents” so reece just went “alright alright just do it in your voice then”

- when len went to go off into the kitchen, david went “no don’t leave me on stage by myself!”, to which len goes “why?? what do you think is going to happen to you?? i’ll only be in the kitchen??”

- at the sardines gag, david turned to the audience after he closed the full wardrobe and went “i didn’t watch the show so i didn’t understand that reference”

- after len got the name wrong a final time, david came out of the wardrobe screaming “IT’S BRITAIN’S GOT CUNTING TALENT”, to which reece started laughing and went “are you done?”

- as david went up the stairs, he turned to tommy and len and shouted “i liked you guys better when you worked with mark gatiss!” turned to walk back up the stairs again, and then went “AND JEREMY DYSON!!”

- reece was going nuts with hugo tonight. the ollie plimsolls bunny hops™️ were in FULL force. and when it got a laugh the first time, he just kept on doing it.

- steve getting emotional and hugging reece-as-toby made me very sad tonight. he was realllyyy into it and the whole theatre was silent

some extra bits: i brought along my mother! who i was also making watch tlog if you remember. here were her thoughts throughout the show

- she found the theatre sketch very funny, particularly when reece put nuts in the sushi

- she then said “was he supposed to sound like edward there?”

- she also thought kidnapper len was a lot like tubbs

- she’s not a massive fan of bernie clifton’s dressing room (she doesn’t understand a lot of the jokes as she obviously didn’t grow up in the UK, let alone during the 70s/80s), but she did find it funnier on stage.

- she loved the finale

- “they’re warped individuals”

and then she waited with me at the stage door and took videos and photos for me !! steve was very friendly and was happy i had my book open ready for him to sign already 😭😭 and reece thanked me for coming and was also ever so sweet !!

[aleksa-sims]

RL Story

I had an appointment at Annabelle’s Daycare today (with P.). I was looking for a free childcare place for my son. For children under 2 years, it's really difficult to get a place. But I had no other options. My parents were both still working full-time and Nico, well! What should I say? He was never there for us anyway. Everything that had to do with our little one was stuck on me. Anyway, back to the actual topic. Philip! 🤨

After my appointment, P. and I went to his place. My little one was at my Mom's. She had the day off, so I had some time to myself. To be honest, I wanted to talk to Philip about Bianca. Their separation came quite.... unexpectedly? I have often seen the two together and rather had the impression everything would be fine. Just like B., Philip didn’t really want to talk about the breakup. Instead, he changed the subject and started talking about N..

Philip: Why is this thing between B. & me so important to you?

Me: She fell in love with you and Annabelle also liked her. 😕🤷‍♀️

Philip: So??... Listen! I’ve tried, but B. and I are way too different. Sometimes it’s better to go separate ways... But what about you? Why are you still so sad about Nico? I told you he wasn’t cheating! And as it turns out, I was right! 🤨

Me: Still, he doesn’t give a shit about me! Besides, I’ve been really fucked up the last few months. All those pills, I-.... I had to struggle not to relapse. I was alone with our Baby. He didn’t care about any of it, and even when I was in the hospital, he never called me! 😒

Philip: He called your Mom, and me! I talked to him about you. You slept for almost 3 days. You were so sick that you didn’t notice.

Me: Why are you defending him? He was at a fucking party in France, while his son and I missed him here at home.

Philip: I'm not taking his side. But I know the pressure he’s under. You have to understand, it's not just playing soccer - money is also involved. They expect performance from him! Success! If he doesn’t make it, it’s.... over for him.

Me: Ya, ya.. It's ok! I got it! You guys all stick up for each other.😒

Me: You nuts?...... What’s gotten into you? 😮

Philip: 😄😄😄 C'mon! I didn’t really kiss you. I haven’t even opened my mouth. 😄

Me: Excuse me?

Philip: I just... pressed my lips against yours. 😆

Philip: I just wanted to show- or prove, that I’m not only on N’s side! You’re also my best friend, honestly, I care about you. 

Me: Why do you keep embarrassing me? 🫣... This wasn't your first time! It almost killed you last time. Just saying: Stair railings!!

Philip: No, no, no! That was a completely different situation at the time! I wanted to prevent you from marrying Daniel! 🤨

Me: Yk what? I’m curious how you will explain this to N.?🤨

Philip: Chill okay! I had no bad intentions and Nico knows it! But ok, fine! I will tell him! And you’ll be also there when I tell him!

Well, tomorrow N. comes home. Great timing, I’d say.

Previous/Next

[redsrooftopprincess]

*comes skidding into your inbox with a pant*

Speak of the devil girl because I was literally stalking your blog just today with a thought that’s been bouncing around in my head for a bit about our favorite big boy Red and wanted to ask your thoughts about it when I saw that your asks were open! So here me out on this (and if this isn’t something you don’t feel comfortable no worries at ALL I’m just in a chatty mood and thought I’d swing my shot) but how do you think Raph would handle being in a relationship or being interested with someone who is demisexual? AKA someone who doesn’t feel sexual attraction until after a deep emotional connection? I know I know at first thought that wouldn’t make sense at all because like look at him…that man must be a late library book because he is FIIIIIIINE and the best/worst part? He knows it. Or at least, knows his body and is confident in it. I just think it would be so interesting for Raph to meet with someone who thinks like “hey yeah cool I can tell you work and you look great but like has anybody recently told you that your soul is beautiful?” Because Raph never really gets that chance to explore that emotional vulnerable side of himself? I know a lot of folks expound on these moments in sexual light and we all know how good those parts of the story can be *eyebrow wiggle* but I am curious on how Raph would handle exposing that part of himself and having to like work his way into more physical moments by first being emotional upfront with someone.

Again, ramblings of an insane person that you are MORE than free to do whatever you’d like. I just think you’re cool and I’m curious to see/ hear your thoughts on the matter if you’re up for sharing.

AnYhOo, you’re cool. You deserve good things and I hope all the good things you do come back to you this week. Kay love ya BYEEEEE!

When it comes to humans, I, myself am Demi (though, if Red ever shows up in the flesh, my partner knows where they stand), and many of us know the pain of "too late," well.

...

Demi

Raphaelxgn!Reader

No warnings

It was disappointing at first. Mike had introduced you at one of his parties. Raphael had only been to a few, and they had all been fun as hell. Honestly, being the center of attention in a large group of people and it's not a bad thing? Sign him the fuck up.

It did have it's drawbacks. It could be exhausting. He never thought he'd be sick of beautiful people fawning all over him, but some nights he didn't have it in him to "perform."

The second he walked in, the usual throng of enamoured humans flocked to him, and to his credit, he was prepared to do his best. He'd been in a low lately, and Mike had basically dragged him out in hope that it might keep him out of his own head for a while. Raph didn't want to disappoint him, but he *didn't* want to be there. He'd stay for an hour and then slip out once the party was in full swing, and Mike would be too busy hosting to notice.

But if Hamato Michaelangelo excels at anything, it's knowing people, and he knows his brothers better than anyone.

The adrenaline barely had time to hit his system as the crowd descended, before his brother had him by the elbow and was steering him through a crowd of disappointed whines toward the back of the club.

He patted Raph's shell, comfortingly, as they moved beyond the throngs of the thirsty, to a secluded booth in the back decked out in white, purple, black, and grey. You smile up at them from your gaming laptop as they approach, and Raphael is a little worried that his brother is trying to set him up with someone again.

"Hey Mike!" you chirp, as he pushes his brother into the booth, sitting beside him and trapping him inside. You raise an eyebrow.

"Big bro needs a breather," Mike says, Raphael gives him an annoyed look and you suppress a smile. "Raphael, this is Y/N, Y/N, this is Raphael."

You smile politely, "Pleased to meet you. I've heard wonderful things from your adoring fans!"

Raphael smirks, half chuckling, a little intimated. Out on the floor he had swagger and he could play the part, even if he wasn't entirely up to it. He could hide in the crowd. Pretend that he was like everyone else. He didn't have to do much to show off, people wanted him. Even those that weren't directly turned on were at least a little curious. But you're beautiful, alone, and while your not being rude or anything, you don't seem all that impressed. It was nice. And terrifying.

"Welp, I'm needed elsewhere," Mike says smoothly, sliding out of the booth. Raphael's head snaps to look at his brother. No. He wasn't just going to drop him here with this gorgeous person and leave. Mike shoots him a wink and disappears in a crowd of passing patrons.

It takes you a few minutes to get through the initial awkwardness of introduction, but after a while, Raph starts to relax and despite the low he's currently slogging through, he actually has a really good time. You're funny, and smart, and gorgeous, and you don't look at him like a piece of meat or a monster.

For the next few days he's quiet, contemplative. The day before another party he catches Mike in his room.

"Hey, you got a second?"

Mike pauses his third playthrough of Assassin's Creed 2 [aka, the best one, fight me] and looks up from his pillow pile, "Sure! Sup?"

"So, uh, you know Y/N?"

Mike raises a brow, "Yeah...?"

"Are they, uh," he clears his throat, fidgeting uncomfortably, "are they... seeing anybody?"

Mike sighs, looking at his brother almost apologetically, of course you're the first person he'd *actually* be interested in. "Dude, they're Demi."

Raphael looks confused.

Mike sighs, "Okay, crash course in the ace/aro spectrum. Most people hear ace and they think no sex ever. Which is only true for some people."

Raph looks more confused.

"Just, stay with me," Mike encourages, "asexuality and aromanticism is a spectrum like anything else. While yes, people that are totally ace don't really get turned on by anything, you also have grey ace, demi, and other fun combo ones where sex drive and romance isn't necessarily a 'no' it's more of an 'only under certain circumstances,' situation. Demisexuals can't get turned on until they're already really close with someone. Most people, you turn on their body and their heart will follow, Demi's are the opposite. The only thing that gets them going with someone is a strong emotional bond. Your heart has to turn them on before your body even has a chance. They pretty much wrote the book on friends to lovers."

"...oh, okay," Raph nods, before furrowing his brow, "so..."

"So," Mike continues, "if you want to pursue something with them, it'll take time for them to be anywhere near ready for a relationship. And a hookup is fully off the table."

Raph thanks his brother for the clarity, and thinks about that for a while. You're beautiful, and he had a lot of fun just hanging out with you, but realistically, if your going to end up close to and attracted to anyone, it's probably not going to be him. Which was disappointing, sure, but you were still an awesome person, and he was pretty new to this whole "making friends," thing. He decides that even if nothing more was ever going to happen, your still more than worth hanging out with, as long as you feel the same about him. He doesn't need you to like him back as long as you like having him around.

And thus began, honestly, the best friendship either of you have ever had. Without the stress of "do we like each other" on the table, the two of you could just be together. You talked about anything and everything under the sun, and he told you things he would never, could never, tell anyone else.

You were the best wingman anyone could ever ask for, and were able to get him more than a few dates with beautiful, interesting, and fun people. For over a year, you were the closest of friends. It actually ended more than one relationship when Raph's potential partner couldn't handle the fact that you were basically a packaged deal.

Not long after your one year "anniversary," he noticed some changes. The last few people you tried to set him up with, you didn't seem as enthusiastic about. You're usually all about helping him get a date, but lately you've seemed almost... upset?

You tried to hide it. But as time went on, watching him leave the party with someone else was becoming more and more difficult. It took you a few weeks, but when you finally figured it out it hit you like a train.

It happened the third time you watched him leave a party with Sarah. Hand at her lower back, holding open the door like a gentleman, he caught your eye on the way out and you tried your best to make your smile look genuine before hiding behind the glass you'd raised in his direction. He noticed and gave you a quizzical look as you quickly buried your face in your glass, before Sarah called him away and the fire exit door closed.

You'd drained your glass and left right after.

The last time you developed feelings for someone it was a good friend of several years. They began the friendship wanting you, and tried for a long time before giving up. Once they did and you finally had the freedom to get close, you developed feelings, and they accused you of playing games. It ruined your friendship completely. This was before you knew what Demisexuality was, but knowledge is a pretty useless power when you're the only one who gets it.

Mike had let slip over daiquiris one night that you were the first person Raphael ever showed any actual interest in. Until he learned that you were Demi. And of course he didn't push, he probably didn't think there was any way you could ever want him. Despite his swagger he really doesn't think all that much of himself, even less so back then.

But that was a year ago, and while his own insecurities haven't exactly gone away, he's definitely becoming more confident. Sarah is gorgeous, the type of woman he'd never have considered approaching when you met. And you really like her. If you didn't you wouldn't have set them up in the first place.

So you're going to keep your mouth shut where it's safest for you, and everyone else involved. Raphael is the best thing that ever happened to you. You can't lose him.

You've started distancing yourself, hoping some space might help things go back to some kind of normal. You just need time to breathe, to take a step back and collect yourself and pretend like it doesn't kill you that now he's on his sixth date with Sarah and things are going really really well. Why can't you just be happy for your friend?

Eventually, one night, you just don't go. He would be spending all night with her, so it's not like you'd be missed. You would honestly be surprised if he noticed your absence at all. And you aren't bitter, honestly. And you aren't mad at him, how could you be? It just seems a little unfair that you could never feel anything until it was too late.

Surprisingly, he texted you near sunrise,

Red: [Missed you tonight. You okay?]

Y/N:

Y/N: [Yeah, work was just really hard today.]

Red: ...

Red: ...

Red:

Red: ...

Red:

Red:

Red: [Okay.]

You don't work on Wednesdays, but you're pretty sure he doesn't know that. You hope that will be the end of it. He won't press. What you aren't expecting is a certain orange-clad ninja in a seafoam jacket tapping at your window the following night.

"Hey, Mike," you say curiously, opening the window so he can move inside, "what's up?"

"Hey," he says, fixing his lapels, "Raph said your probably not coming to the party tonight. Aaaaaaand that you're lying to him." He gives you a genuine look, "So, what's up, buttercup?"

You know your not getting out of this. He gives you a look that says he already knows, he's just waiting for you to say it. Raph says he gets that from their dad.

Your cheeks burn and you look down and away. He dips his head to recapture your gaze. "The real reason you bailed wouldn't have anything to do with a certain reptile in red and the pretty blond bombshell hanging off his arm... would it?"

You sigh heavily and close your eyes, before turning, and walking over to the couch, "It doesn't matter. It's too late," you sit heavily, defeated. "It's always too late," you mutter to yourself.

"Wow," Mike says, watching you, a small smile working the corner of his mouth, "you know, in all the time I've known you I think this is the first time I've ever seen you actually into anyone."

"Not that it matters," you snap back, gently, the smile annoys you a little, "he's got Sarah. And they're really good together. And I'd be some kind of asshole to say anything at this point. And you don't say anything either," you demand, pointing at him, "He's happy. I'm not going to fuck that up for him."

Begrudgingly, he acquiesces, and not long after unsuccessfully trying one last time to convince you to go to the party, Mike makes his way out, and you put on a movie and curl up on the couch to distract yourself.

A little after two, you hear a quiet tapping on the window before the unmistakable sound of it sliding open in the casement, and a familiar soft landing on carpet.

You stand as he slides the window shut, "I thought you were with Sarah tonight. Everything okay?"

He turns to face you... and you know.

"Fucker ran his mouth," you laugh sardonically, shaking your head. "We don't have to talk about this, " you say, turning around to walk, somewhere, anywhere else.

"Yeah, I think we do," he argues. You stop walking with a sigh.

"Raph, please. Just go back to the party. Back to Sarah, have a-"

"Can't."

You turn and give him a quizzical look. "Wha- Why not?"

"We broke up." He says simply.

Your stomach drops, "You didn't break up with her because of- Raph, that's-"

"Relax," he says, holding up a hand and moving slowly toward you, "I didn't have to. She saw Mike and I talking, and she knew the score. Said to tell you, 'no hard feelings.'"

"But, I-"

He takes your hand before his eyes meet yours once again.

"But, I was too late..." You say softly, confused.

He can't help the smile that blooms across his features, "Not for me," he raises your hand to his lips and kisses the back of it, "Never for me." He looks at you, earnestly, and you can see the trepidation in his eyes. In the last year, the guy has developed one hell of a game, but you know the heart of him. He can't hide from you, and when you look at him, you see everything. He's terrified it isn't real. That he's getting his hopes up. That all that he is isn't enough.

And you want to tell him that he is. You really, really do. That he's more than enough. That he's so damn beautiful there was no way for you *not* to fall deeper the deeper you came to know him. But you don't. Not yet.

You just kiss him.

...

Tag list!

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins @sacred-holy-light @celeste-clearwater-06 @pheradream-15

[iamdkayyyyy]

° „ ★ Not alone 🎀ྀིྀི 

Dis one for my Pookie @kyeomviiees 

Love you, I hope you rested well on your break!

💋👻💋👻💋👻

° „ ★ Not alone 🎀ྀིྀི 🍊

Seungkwan x reader

(reader is referred to as y/n once, comfort, fluff)

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°🍊✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°🍊✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°🍊✮ ⋆

You had a long day, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders as you navigated through the routine of life. 

It was hard;

Wake up, rush out of the house, Get yelled at by your boss

Have your co-workers steal nasty glances at you, it was just a lot. Maybe too much. Coming home to your empty apartment, the silence was deafening, and for a moment, you just wanted to melt into the floor.

Just then, your phone buzzed, and a familiar name lit up the screen—Seungkwan. His cheerful personality always had a way of lifting your spirits, so you didn't hesitate for even a second before picking up.

"Hey, are you home?" His voice was bright, a ray of sunshine breaking through your clouds.

"Yeah, im home…" you replied softly, trying to muster up some enthusiasm.

“Great. I’m on my way!” he chimed, his voice bubbling with excitement. You couldn’t help but smile. You had no idea how he did it, but Seungkwan always seemed to know when you needed him.

A short while later, the doorbell rang, pulling you from your thoughts. You opened the door to find Seungkwan standing there, his arms filled with your favourite snacks and a comforting blanket draped over his shoulder. His eyes sparkled with that contagious energy, and you instantly felt the weight on your heart begin to lighten.

“Surprise! Movie night!” he declared, his smile brightening your mood and your entire day.

You laughed softly, stepping aside to let him in. “Kwan, I love you. You’re the best,” you murmured, feeling your heart warm at the thoughtfulness behind his actions.

He settled on the couch, spreading the blanket over both of you before handing you a bag of chips. “Now, spill. What’s been bothering you? Are you ok?”

You hesitated, but the sincerity in his gaze urged you to open up. “It's just… everything feels so overwhelming sometimes and it's all hitting me at once like a tsunami. I don’t know how to handle it all.”

Seungkwan’s expression softened, his cheerful facade melting into something more serious. “You’re not alone in this, you know? I’m always here for you,” he reassured, reaching out to squeeze your hand.

 “Not alone?” you started singing hitorijanai to try and lighten up the mood. He laughed his gorgeous laugh, making your smile wider than ever.

His warmth was comforting, making it easier to express your feelings. You shared your worries, each word spilling out more easily in the safe space he had created. Through it all, Seungkwan listened intently, nodding along, occasionally offering encouraging words or anecdotes of his own struggles.

“Life is tough, but so are you,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm. “And it’s okay to lean on your friends. Especially me. Please lean on me. I don’t want you to have to carry everything by yourself.”

At that moment, you felt lighter, as if the burdens you had been carrying were being lifted, one by one. Seungkwan was always so good at making you see the brighter side of things. Maybe because HE was the brighter side of things.

As the movie played softly in the background, you both snuggled under the blanket, surrounded by snacks and giggles. It felt like the chaos outside ceased to exist, and the world had narrowed down to this safe bubble created by two people destined for each other. (they just do not know it yet)

“Thank you for being you,” you said quietly, turning to him, your eyes gleaming with tears of everything. Joy that he was here and he cared, sadness because of everything that happened today. Fear of losing your one and only Kwannie.

Seungkwan cocked his head, his eyes sparkling. “You deserve all the love and comfort in the world. And don’t forget, I’m not just here to watch movies; I’m here for everything.”

 “ kwanranghaeeeeee” you sang, once again trying to show him you care about him too. 

“ No, but seriously kwan, im here for you too”

“ Thank you, y/n but don't make this about me, today is about YOU.” he said, making dramatic hand gestures causing you to tug your lips into that large smile he loved.

With that, he leaned against you, resting his head on your shoulder. His warmth felt like a hug that wrapped around your heart. You could feel the tension leave your body, and for the first time in a while, you simply allowed yourself to enjoy the moment, knowing you had someone who genuinely cared by your side.

As the credits rolled, you stayed tucked under the blanket, talking and laughing together. For tonight, at least, everything felt right in the world, and you knew that with Seungkwan around, you could face whatever came your way.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°🍊✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°🍊✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°🍊✮ ⋆

@kyeomviiee I tried I really did, but like I said, im still not very good at writing fics. I do still hope you like this thoooo

❤️👻❤️👻❤️👻

[sandontshengshou]

I’m convinced that even if Jiang Cheng ended up dying and getting brought back as a fierce corpse, OP would just say “hey, pookie bear Wei Wuxian brought him back at least! He’d be rotting in a depression spiral if they didn’t kill him!”

sorry, anon from before, two thoughts and then I'm DONE I promise, one of MY grievances is that antis have weird takes that would be fun if they finished the thought instead of killing it with 'and that's why the protagonist is good and the antagonist is bad' like. be brave! be interesting! like yeah, actually, "JC comes back as a fierce corpse and WWX and wq are so horrified that they go into denial about it like no, this is fine, we can make this work, nobody get upset" would actually be a very fun and fucked up au.

my second, spicier take is that people make fun of 'female-coded male characters' but "family member and doctor make medical decisions for [character] without their knowledge or permission and this is fine -- [character] should be grateful, in fact!" is something you'd hear from the antagonist in like, the yellow wallpaper. I think canon is less misogynistic than that -- I think wwx and wq are implied to understand that they're violating a boundary and it's reasonable to assume that the person they're operating on would be upset -- but it would be fun to see the horror AU where they're completely upfront right after the surgery because they didn't do anything wrong and only a crazy person would be upset.

I am sorry I didn’t see this ask in my notes until today!!!

No but fr even Jiang cheng somehow died horribly during that core transfer, there still would’ve been someone crawling out of the woodwork to say “oh but my baby did his best, it’s not like jc would have amounted to much anyway🥺” and that gets me.

Tbh the golden core thing actually made me like wwx and wq more because that morally grey action really humanised him to me. Wen Qing didn’t do it out of kindness, she did it because she cared about wwx and felt like she owed him a great debt. Another complicated decision!

What makes the transfer interesting in the first place is the moral dilemma and the fact that he was desperate to fix things both because he couldn’t bear to see jc so broken and because he felt crushingly guilty about the fall of lotus pier! It’s that desperation to somehow make things right and save jc that drove him imo, and isn’t that what he says in the book as well? That he couldn’t bear to see jc like that and that he did everything in his power to find a solution?

Like you said, idk why people try so hard to justify their actions when they literally don’t have to? How about we appreciate the character and his not-so-perfect actions instead of moral panicking lol

And the misogyny thing!!! All I hear is “Oh, why would silly Jiang Cheng know what’s good for him, he’s too emotional!” It’s giving 1950s lobotomisation.

” What gets me isn’t even the fact that they did the surgery or that it was bad, it’s the fact that antis say it was a morally correct decision! I cannot believe some people unironically think the concept of basic bodily autonomy is selfish pls-

As for the horror AU, that would honestly be diabolical and I’m currently thinking of all the ways in which Jiang cheng would react to it. The idea of a wwx that’s even more unhinged than in canon frantically explaining what he did to jc like “see! Shidi, I fixed everything for you, I’ve fulfilled my debt and I’ve fixed you and it’s all gonna be okay :DDDDD” and jc just staring at him in absolute horror really is such a concept, I need more of it.

and btw I love when people rant at me, so never say sorry for that!!

[etherealhoneypie]

sry for the lack of being on here and active again these past few days. work has been insane with the transfer. i’ve been having a lot of extra social anxiety with people talking about me so openly because i’m leaving. some are happy and excited for me while others are taking it personal and trying to make me feel guilty. todays my last day at this place and ive been here a little over a year. no job has made me cry like this one. no job has had me more physically and emotionally exhausted as this job has. i don’t care if my actions are seen as selfish. i put other people first almost exclusively, which im working on fixing. i’m putting me first and i’m doing this for me. i deserve to not worry every single morning about how bad the day will be. i’ve done great things here and i will miss my little friends like crazy, but it’s what’s best. wish me luck y’all.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Hɑll Of Fɑme || Nɑɾuto Uzumɑki ||

A/n: My baby boy deserved so much better, this isn't a relationship fic. It's more of a Parent!Reader x Naruto.

The streets of Konoha were bathed in golden hues as the sun dipped behind the Hokage Monument, painting the village in warm tones. You sat on the roof of your home, the cool tiles beneath you grounding your thoughts as a familiar voice called out from below.

“Hey, (Y/N)-nee!”

Naruto’s voice was unmistakable—bright, full of energy, but today, there was a heaviness in it, one you knew all too well.

You turned just in time to see him jump up beside you, plopping down with a sigh that seemed too heavy for someone so young. His usual grin was missing, replaced by a tight frown, brows furrowed in frustration.

You didn’t press him right away. Instead, you both sat in silence, watching the village below, the people moving about their lives. Then, softly, you spoke.

“Rough day, huh?”

Naruto huffed, arms crossed over his chest. “Tch. You could say that. Stupid Sasuke. Stupid Kakashi-sensei. Stupid villagers…” He hesitated before muttering, “Stupid me.”

Your heart clenched at his words. “Naruto…”

“It’s just—” he kicked at the tiles. “No matter what I do, it’s never enough! Sasuke always seems ahead, and Kakashi-sensei barely looks at me. And the villagers still—” He stopped, balling his fists. “They still look at me like I’m nothing. Like I’m just that stupid fox.”

His voice cracked, and you could see the way his body tensed, like he was bracing himself for rejection, for scolding—for the words he’d heard his whole life.

But you wouldn’t give him that. You never had and you couldn't help but feel your heart break knowing that so many people still looked at him with so much distain.

Shaking your head, you reached out and pulled him close, his spiky hair pressing against your shoulder as you rested your chin atop his head. He stiffened at first, but then—slowly—he melted into the warmth.

“Naruto,” you murmured, “do you know what I see when I look at you?”

He shook his head, fingers clutching your shirt tight in his grasp.

“I see someone who’s going to be great.”

He let out a dry laugh. “Pft, yeah right—”

“I’m serious,” you cut him off gently, holding his shoulders so he could look into your eyes. “I see a boy who refuses to give up, no matter how many times the world tries to push him down. I see someone with a heart big enough to carry everyone’s burdens, even when no one sees his own pain. And I see—” You poked his forehead lightly. “—someone who’s going to be Hokage one day, no matter what anyone else says.”

His blue eyes widened, searching your face for any sign of a lie, but he only found sincerity. You smiled.

“Do you know why?”

Naruto gulped, shaking his head. His eyes were already misting with tears.

“Because you’re a fighter. Because you’re the kind of person who doesn’t back down, who stands up even when no one else will. And one day, Naruto—you’re going to be up there, on that mountain, with your face carved next to the others.”

His lower lip trembled, and for a second, he looked like the little boy who had clung to you when the loneliness became too much. Then, slowly, the smallest smile broke through, hesitant but real.

“You really think so?” he whispered.

You ruffled his hair with a chuckle. “I know so.”

Naruto inhaled deeply, then exhaled, sitting up straighter. “Yeah. Yeah! You’re right! I’m not gonna let this stop me! Dattebayo!”

You laughed, watching as that fiery determination sparked back to life in his eyes. Standing up you then gave him a wink holding out your hand. "Now how about I cook you one your favorite dishes. You gotta get your strength."

"Haha yea! You're the best!"

As the stars blinked into existence above,Naruto jumped to his feet taking your hand for help, the two of you slipping into your home. While people may have questioned your actions it didn't matter because you'll be the parent Naruto deserved and Naruto, he'll be the future Hokage already who's shining bright—even if he didn’t see it yet.

And in your mind, you knew one thing for certain:

One day, the world would know the name Naruto Uzumaki.

And it would never forget it.

⸻

“And the world's gonna know your name,'Cause you burn with the brightest flame.And the world's gonna know your name.And you'll be on the walls of the Hall of Fame…”