#why did i let my friends push me into this

[sonotpattismith]

gee willikers, batman!

pairing: boxer!choso x nurse!reader word count: 11k content: fluff, always a lil angsty w/ me, commitment issues, mentions of toxic relationship dynamics, for my girlies w/ a fearful-avoidant attachment style, big brother choso, mentions of abuse and domestic violence, smut, 18+ a/n: not sure if I like how this turned out but alas we shall persevere :')

You desperately needed to develop a better taste in men. Or a therapist. Whichever came to you faster would be best. 

In reality, it should have been a sign early on into your career when you were so drawn toward the Emergency Department specifically that perhaps you had a certain… affinity for the more chaotic things in life. It was evident in your job, and it was evident in your disaster ex-boyfriend who you’d just broken up with a mere week shy of your one year anniversary. 

He, like the many other men you’ve let waltz into your life, might as well have had ‘RED FLAG’ tattooed across his forehead, but it seemed you were never satisfied unless you were on the brink of a complete crash out— at least that was how you’d always felt until now. Maybe you were getting too old for it, all the bad boy types who had you clinging onto your phone in a furious rage most nights arguing over god knows what. It was never simple, but you seemed to enjoy the thrill of the ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ types of attitudes. 

Again, at least until your latest wannabe edge lord candidate had had you so fed up with his overbearing possessiveness that you were sure your nervous system was completely fried. It wasn’t until that last fight though, that ended with your phone screen shattered after he’d tossed it across the room in a child-like tantrum that was just so like him— the one after which you found yourself having to practice the very same fucking grounding techniques you’d show your patients when experiencing panic attacks prior to procedures— you thought perhaps it was time for a change. 

Which was precisely why you couldn’t for the life of you understand why your coworker insisted on taking you here of all places. Ierie had been working with you for a few years now, so she had already heard about every argument, block, and makeup between you and that disaster of an ex-boyfriend of yours. Though she tried (not very hard but tried nonetheless) to conceal her unbridled excitement when you told you that you had ended things, she was practically bursting at the seams. 

After the poorly concealed praise to a higher being she performed following the news, she did still want to be there for you. That was why she insisted on hanging out tonight so you wouldn’t have to be alone on what was supposed to be your one year anniversary. The catch was though, she seemed to have forgotten that she had already promised one of her long time friends from highschool that she’d be at his fight that same night. 

Which led you to the very predicament you were in now, damn near overstimulated by the hollering and sweaty bodies pushing against you in the overcrowded, modestly sized arena that looked like it hadn’t been maintenanced in at least ten years. Ierie’s cold hand was dragging you by the wrist to assure you didn’t get swallowed up by the crowd, claiming that her friend had already reserved two spots toward the front. 

“I know I came here to support him, but I don’t think Suguru is winning this thing.” She shouted over the crowd once you two found your spots, watching as a burly man stalked around the area taking bets for the fight. 

“Geez, some friend you are.” You snorted with an amused shake of your head. “Does he suck or something?”

Truthfully, you knew nothing about boxing. It was never really your thing, even though you seemed to have quite a few mutual friends involved in the local boxing scene. You weren’t sure of the big names that everyone threw around, who was good and who was mediocre. Despite the fact that you’d much rather be rotting in bed, wallowing in your own self-pity right about now, you figured you should at least try to enjoy yourself and understand what you were watching. 

“No, it’s not that.” She shook her head, her neck craning up to watch as the boxers began making their way out. “The guy he’s going up against is like a fucking machine. He never loses— at least I’ve never seen it.”

“Crazy strong?” You assumed, watching as the man you recognized as her friend hopped into the ring, his long hair pulled back into a neat bun out of his face. Shoko hummed unconvincingly. 

“Nah, I heard he’s got a kid or something. So, I think he’s just crazy determined is all.” 

You hummed, suddenly intrigued to see someone going against Geto— who was already scarily large in your book— with nothing but pure motivation to provide under his belt. As they announced his name— Choso— and he ducked into the ring across from his opponent, you realized that he definitely had more on his side than Shoko let on. 

“Holy shit.” You muttered under your breath, lips parting as you watched him shed his jacket. He looked fairly young for a father, but the dark circles under his eyes surely fit the bill. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so shocked given his line of work, but the man was built like a tank, insanely broad shoulders to carry around those down right dangerous biceps of his.

“Eh? Didn’t I say this would take your mind off of what’s his face?” Your friend grinned knowingly with a teasing nudge of her elbow. She jutted her chin toward the ring. “Think his kid needs a step-mom?”

“Ierie,” You flushed with a breathless laugh. Suguru and Choso met in the middle of the ring, touching their gloved fists together as they awaited the match to begin. “Did you not hear me when I said I need a little bit of peace in my life for once?”

She didn’t respond to your rhetorical question though, because the opening bell was ringing and the boxers began dancing around the ring faster than you could process, administering and dodging blows so fluidly it almost looked choreographed. You noticed how Choso protected his face the majority of the match, ducking and dodging far more than actually swinging. When he did swing though, he swung hard. You wondered with your limited knowledge of the sport if his strategy was just tiring his opponent out. 

A few minutes in, you found yourself flinching back with each punch that was thrown his way, but Geto rarely landed one on his opponent. 

“I knew you’d go gaga for this!” Shoko shouted with a delighted laugh. “You love the dangerous ones!” 

“Shut up!” You grumbled back at her, chewing at the side of your thumb anxiously as the two grew closer to the side of the ring you and Shoko were stationed at. 

Of course, they likely knew what they were doing, but you couldn’t help but think of worst case scenario where these two two-hundred plus pound fighters toppled over the ring and onto your unsuspecting and unprepared body. You abruptly stood from your seat as Geto was cornered against the ring, his back facing you just a mere couple feet away. 

From up close as Choso was landing calculated blows on his trapped opponent, you were able to see that subtle pout in his lips that contrasted against the big and scary vibe every other part of him emanated. The mark across his nose scrunched up in sheer focus, stray bangs from his haphazard bun falling across his forehead. 

It only took a second, your abrupt movement shifting in his peripheral. His dark eyes drifted up just over Geto’s shoulder and met yours. The gloved fists that had been raised and shielding his face for nearly the entire match slowly faltered, drifting down in hopes of getting a better look at your wide eyed expression. 

Those glossy eyes were locked on him, and perhaps he was too awestruck to note that— yeah, everyone was looking at him right now— because it truly did feel as though you were the only one in the room for even just a moment. The whiplash hit him straight in the ribs harder than any opponent could land, knocking the air from his lungs as he watched your face morph in horror. It was just milliseconds following the abrupt change that Geto’s glove was hitting him smack-dab in the center of his face. 

You yelled out in surprise as Choso was instantly knocked back, falling onto the unforgiving ground below him while the arena erupted in hollers, because shit, everyone had bet on him. Even Suguru looked taken aback by how quickly his opponent dropped, because he’d fought with him before and definitely knew that he usually kept his stance stiff enough so that blows like that didn’t take him down so easily— and they certainly never kept him down.

The referee had knelt down beside him to count him down, but you were more concerned by the way blood had begun to trickle out of his nose and even the corner of his mouth. His eyes were barely open, squinting blearily at the blinding lights above him. 

“He’s gonna aspirate if they don’t move him off his back.” You shouted desperately at Shoko, clutching anxiously onto her elbow. 

“They have to count him down— rules are rules.” She stated absentmindedly, getting on her tiptoes to get a better look. “You’re off the clock.”

Ten seconds. He could get through it, you tried to convince yourself as you bounced on your heels. Time was moving too slow though, and you watched in dread as his chest heaved with a cough, the blood that had gathered in his mouth sputtering up to paint his chin and cheeks. 

“They’re gonna kill him.” Your frantic declaration had barely processed in your friend's mind before you were hopping through the ropes and hoisting yourself into the ring. She was yelling out to you, and one of the boxer’s cornermen shot forward to stop you, but you had already slid onto your knees beside the referee, who was also trying to push you back. “He’s choking on his blood!” 

They paused at your sudden, furied response, too startled to do anything as you grabbed his shoulder and mustered all your strength to roll him onto his side. Finally on his side, you reached over to pull the guard from his mouth. At once, Choso began sputtering up and coughing, coating the floor with the blood that he had been drowning in.

As he continued clearing his airway, your fingers carefully dug into the back of his head, threading through his hair to check for blood. With the sudden movements, he was slowly beginning to come to, though all he could hear through the ringing in his ears was the muffled uproar from the crowd. Blinking back his delirium, he lazily shifted onto his back once again, eyes drifting back shut.

“No, no, no— sit up for me.” Your voice instructed him through the haze of his attempted slumber. 

Even Geto had shed his gloves and was kneeling down to help you get him upright. 

“I didn’t even hit him that hard.” He explained in bafflement, the most subtle layer of guilt twinging his tone. “It’s like he completely ragdolled for a second.”

It took all the energy Choso had remaining to blink up at you. The sight of you— the same girl who had thrown him out of his zone for likely the first time ever in his career— his consciousness seemed to come flooding back to him. Sitting up quickly with your’s and Geto’s urging hands under his back, he looked around frantically in an attempt to grasp what had happened. 

“Do you feel nauseous?” You asked him as he watched your lips form in a frenzy around the words. 

Blood was beginning to pour from his quickly bruising nose into his lips, and the thus far useless cornermen bounded over with a small towel. Bunching it up, you carefully placed it onto his nose before tilting his head forward to allow it to flow out. 

“I-I don’t—” Choso was stammering, as was so very common for him, but never in the ring, and he was coming to the mortifying revelation that the insanely gorgeous girl just watched him get the lights knocked out of him with a single blow. 

Your brows furrowed as you tried to make sense of his words. You moved the towel aside to hear him better. 

“I don’t usually, uh—” He gulped, face flushing embarrassingly dark for someone who was on the brink of a possible concussion. You tilted your head at him. “Y’know, lose that easy— hah.” 

His attempted nonchalant laughter sounded more like a nervous sigh, but his slurred explanation had an amused smile curling through the concerned pout of your lips. He found himself smiling along with you, blood coating his teeth. 

“So I’ve heard, hot-shot.” You quipped with a shake of your head, pressing the towel back into his nose just as the medic finally hopped into the ring. Your eyes remained on his dopey expression as you tilted your head to the side to address them in a hushed tone. “Check him for a concussion, he’s looking crazy.”

Choso did not, in fact, have a concussion. At least that’s what the medic deduced in the back after having assessed him. Given that there, for some god forsaken reason, only seemed to be one medic present, you aided in transporting him to the back where you stuck around for support. Shoko was rolling her eyes in exasperation, mumbling something incoherent about your never taking a day off. She was however thoroughly entertained by the notion that the Choso Kamo got knocked onto his ass for the first time solely because he got a glimpse of you. Despite the evidence that was pointing there, you vehemently continued to disagree with her on what caused his little hiccup in the ring. 

The medic was packing his things up as you were not-so-subtly re-checking his pupil reactions, because you seriously were questioning the credentials of the supposed medical professional that was about to let the man aspirate right in the ring. Choso didn’t question your insistence on double-checking, his wide, chocolate eyes following your pen light obediently— any excuse to be at the center of your attention for a little longer, right?

“So you’re, um—” His gaze fluttered as you clicked the light off before switching it to your other hand and turning it back on. “You’re a doctor?” 

You smiled fondly and shook your head. 

“An ER nurse— my friend over there’s a doctor though.” You explained, nodding your head back to where Shoko was speaking to Geto. She shouted something about being off the clock before continuing her conversation. 

Choso hummed, blinking away the spots in his eyes left behind by the light. Upon closer inspection, you noted that the mark running jaggedly across his nose and cheeks was a scar, and not an oddly placed tattoo as you had assumed when first seeing it. If he noticed you staring, he made no indication of it— not with the puppy-dog like gaze he still had on you, a small smile on his blood-stained lips. 

His attention was pulled away from you as a ping rang from his dufflebag. Tearing his eyes from yours, he quickly fumbled through his clothes before procuring his cellphone. In a last-ditch effort to make it seem like you weren’t just staring at the man, you busied yourself with cleaning up the blood-soaked towels and tissues that had begun surrounding him. 

“Is everything okay?” Choso had barely glanced at the screen before quickly taking the call. “He’s still not asleep?”

You watched his brows furrow from your peripheral, and you desperately tried to mind your own business. In the louder corners of your mind though, Shoko’s words rang in your mind about his having a child. Despite only having spoken a few words to him, you just couldn’t see how this young, gentle-giant of a man was a father. 

“Yeah,” His voice had become lighter suddenly, an amused smile painting his face so affectionately it damn near gave you baby fever. “Tell him I’m fine— I should be home in a little bit.”

You quickly averted your sidelong glance once he hung up the phone, moving to wash your blood stained hands in the dingy sink that sat in the corner. From the mirror, you could see him digging through his bag to grab a shirt. 

“Sorry— my babysitter called.” He explained as he tugged a baggy, graphic tee over his head. As if it took him a moment to realize how that sounded, his frantic face was quickly popping out the neck of the shirt to clarify. “I take care of my little brother, I mean. I’m not um— y’know, his… dad.”

With a soft hum of acknowledgement, you could have cursed yourself for the subtle excitement brewing in your stomach at the fact that this man was likely single—  and he wanted you to know it, too. Reaching down to grab your bag from the bench, you slung it over your shoulder.  Jumping into action, Choso was quickly picking up his own bag to walk beside you. 

“Big brother’s a boxer, huh? He must think you’re a god.” 

“Oh, he doesn’t know, actually.” He corrected with a subtle flush, his hand fiddling with the strap of his bag. Noting the way your brows rose in surprise, he offered a meek smile. “I just don’t want him getting caught up in all this.”

“And how does he suppose you get all those bruises then?” You teased, but you were quickly putting two and two together that keeping his job a secret from his little brother was likely the reason for his oddly calculated boxing approach. He never seemed to make risky moves, always preferring to protect himself above all else and only striking when he was sure to land it. 

Suddenly, a bashful expression overtook his face, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly as his eyes darted away from you. It was undeniably endearing to see such a tall and muscular man so easily flustered, especially considering how solemnly terrifying he appeared in the ring. 

“Well, he…” He scratched at his head before huffing out a chuckle. “He kind of thinks I’m Batman.”

A choked laugh attempted to hide itself within your throat, but it, of course, failed miserably. Choso turned away from you in hopes that you wouldn’t see the maroon color that painted his neck and cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. That’s just really cute.” You explained through uncontrolled giggles, not missing the way Shoko rose a knowing brow at you as the two of you drew closer. “Well, uh… good luck with that bruise then, Batman.”

“Y-You should let me grab you dinner— y’know to… thank you for not letting me choke.” You turned as Choso chuckled nervously, the hand you had placed on your friend’s arm to head out with her falling. 

 Your gaze fluttered as you looked back at his hopeful expression, but all you could think about was the fact that you’d just broken up with your boyfriend just a week prior because he was no good for you. Staring back at the crusted blood at the corner of his mouth, along with the way his nose was blossoming with a vibrant black and blue hue, you shook your head with an apologetic smile. 

“I’ve got a shift in the morning.” You explained, having to turn away lest your heart break at the way his face seemed to fall ever-so-slightly. “But I hope you feel better!”

As you and Shoko left, she was whisper-shouting over her shoulder an apology to him about your only liking assholes with a feigned subtlety. It was the subdued goodnight that he still called out to you even in the midst of his rejection that had you staring up at your ceiling that night wondering if you’d always be hard-wired to make things difficult for yourself. 

You wished you had had the opportunity to forget about the interaction altogether the following morning at the start of your shift. Typically, working in the ER meant fast-paced, constantly needing to be on edge, and certainly not having the time to think about anything else other than what might be walking through those doors at any moment. As fate would have it though, today was one of the rare instances that your shift was absolutely dragging. 

It was already nearly a quarter of the way into your shift, and all you had triaged so far was an elderly woman with a mild cough, a kid trying to get out of his school’s testing day with a feigned stomach ache, and a hungover college student in desperate need of IV fluids. Needless to say, you were beginning to grow restless. 

You were a mere ten minutes away from throwing in the towel and taking your lunch break early, a luxury you were almost never privileged to, when your pager pinged alerting a new patient. Sitting up with a start, you quickly clicked at your computer to wake it up and check the chart. 

Possible head injury; rule out TBI

Maybe if you hadn’t been so eager to just get up and do something, you would have read into their chart more. For now though, you were avidly collecting your things to check in the first patient you’ve had in the last two hours. Lugging the vitals machine behind you, you offered a soft knock on the wall as you glanced over the chart one more time and slid the curtain open. Your mouth popped open as your eyes finally landed on the name. 

“Choso?” You muttered under your breath, brows furrowing as you looked up from the chart to see the very man you suspected perched upon the sterile bed. 

He almost looked surprised to see you at first, those dewey eyes of his widening ever-so-slightly at the sight of you before a smile spread across his lips. Upon first glance, he looked to be the picture of health (save for the now diabolical bruise spread across the center of his face), smiling and bright eyed with no visible reason for why he’d be complaining of a head injury. As if noting the way your eyes began to narrow doubtfully at him, he quickly attempted to wipe the smile from his face. 

“Um— I was… I was starting to feel symptoms of a concussion.” The burly man stammered out as though rehearsed. 

Barely able to bite back your own amused grin, you tucked the chart under your arm before leaning against the wall expectantly. You made a go on motion with a wave of your hand, but Choso hadn’t expected to be so distracted by the sight of you in your scrubs. Rolling his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger, he gulped nervously. 

“Y’know, like a… headache a-and uh…” An anxious smile graced his face as you raised a skeptical brow at him. He couldn’t help it though— not with the way your jogger-style scrub bottoms hugged at your curves so tantalizingly, and you looked so cute with your stethoscope hanging around your neck, the one that would surely catch the way his traitorous heart was racing against his rib cage. 

“How did you know which hospital I worked at, Choso?” You finally interrogated once he’d been stammering a little too long to come up with other relevant symptoms. 

He cast his eyes to the side as you moved to pull the sleeve of his t-shirt up to wrap the blood pressure cuff around his bulging bicep. Though you had already deduced that he was likely fine, he had still been registered as a patient, and now you needed to go through the typical procedures. You wondered if he was even aware of how attractive he was, because the way he remained oblivious to the manner in which you ran a hand unnecessarily down his arm on your way to the pump told you that he had no clue.

“Lucky guess.” He tried to come off as cool, hoping you wouldn’t see through the fact that this was the third emergency room he’d been to today. It wouldn’t let him rest though— the memory of you hovering above him as he came to, the thought that you had jumped into a boxing ring for a stranger and essentially saved his life. “You didn’t let me thank you yesterday. You saved my life.”

“Don’t you have a kid to be taking care of?” You quipped teasingly, a bit flustered at his gratitude as you undid the cuff from his arm. This time around, he did notice the way you rubbed soothingly at the mark left behind by the cuff, and whether conscious or not, he found himself flexing his arm ever-so-slightly just for you.

“Yuji? He’s at school.” Choso explained dismissively before quickly veering back on topic. “I wanted to make sure you were coming to the rematch, but I didn’t have your number.”

He opened his mouth obediently as you nudged the thermometer against his lips, lifting his tongue for you to rest it underneath. The way his pretty, pink lips wrapped around the thermometer made your breath hitch, and you forced yourself to tear your eyes from his as they bore intently into you. You hummed once it beeped, shedding the sterile cover into the bin by the bed. 

“Rematch, huh?” He nodded, fervent eyes following each of your movements as you turned to confirm his vitals into the machine before turning back to face him once again. “I hate to disappoint, but I’m not actually into boxing.”

“You were front row at the match last night.” He rationalized, and his shoulders were slowly falling in disappointment. After a moment, he shook his head before continuing his pursuit. “Then let me take you to dinner at least.”

“Listen, I’m just not really—”

Your excuse was cut off when, after barely a moment of contemplation, Choso grabbed the chart from your hand and tossed it to the floor. A few owlish blinks were sent his way.   

“Your friend said you like assholes.” The man explained simply, but it was clearly eating him alive, evident in the way his determined eyes darted between you and the clipboard that had just got done clattering on the floor. A couple, painfully silent seconds passed before he kissed his teeth quietly, sliding off the bed to pick it back up for you anyway.

Fortunately for him, and unfortunately for your sanity, that little failed stunt worked on you, and Choso bounded out of the ER that afternoon with your contact in his phone. Still, you made it clear to him that you’d reach out to him when you were ready. He nodded along intently as you explained that you had only just gotten out of a relationship, and you didn’t exactly feel that you trusted your ability to pick a man right now. 

It didn’t matter to him though, because you had saved his number under Batman on your phone, and he had never been so proud of the silly persona his baby brother had assigned to him. So, he assured you not to worry, that there was no rush, and that he owed you a dinner whenever it was that you felt like having him.  Sure, the next few days may have been spent glued to his phone in hopes that you’d get over your idiot of an ex-boyfriend sooner rather than later, but he could be patient, right?

It wasn’t until nearly a month later that he began to worry that perhaps you had only taken his number with the hopes that he’d leave you alone. Perhaps you were just letting him down easy. After all, he had shown up to your job after already having gotten a no from you. Choso had never been great with women​​— he’d never had the opportunity to, what with his taking over care for Yuji so early on into what were supposed to be his prime bachelor days. 

Up until now though, it didn’t matter that he hadn’t had the chance to grow out of his awkward, teenage boy cadence, he’d never thought much of it. Sure, he was a man, and he had needs too, but there were always more important things to worry about— like putting food on the table and keeping a roof over the head of his baby brother. His job certainly didn’t require him to be a smooth talker, or a talker at all for that matter. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t read the body language or social cues that women threw at him— not until it was you that he couldn’t get a read on. 

What he didn’t know was that you had spent the month waging war on yourself. The battle consisted of the you that wanted to remain in the familiar arms of men who your commitment fearing heart was sure to see no future with and the you that wondered if taking the hot, kind-eyed boxer’s offer of taking you to dinner and treating you like an adult human being was such a bad thing. 

The decision was proving to be more difficult than you could have ever anticipated, because it was as if your man-child of an ex-boyfriend could smell that you were contemplating doing better for yourself once, and he had been texting you for weeks now. There were apologies, paragraphs sent about how your constant arguments only meant that you two were passionate about one another— ones that had you rolling your eyes while simultaneously thinking that this was the safe option. 

You had come to a fork in the road though, as you stared down at his text asking if you’d meet him at the place you two met— some dingy arcade where you always had to hold your breath in because it seemed none of the men in attendance knew what soap or deodorant were. It was the same place where you remember finding it charming how heated he’d get over losing a game— it was quirky and hot and you couldn’t possibly see how that short-temper might pose a challenge to your relationship. 

Chewing on your bottom lip, your thumbs hovered over the cracked screen that had lain witness to just how un-charming that temper could get. Glancing up at your carefully placed makeup in the mirror, you realized that you had missed getting all done up— missed going out instead of sulking in your apartment and contemplating where your abysmal attachment style could have possibly manifested from. With a shake of your head, you decided that you had put far too much effort into yourself to end up in that cesspool of a joint by the end of the night. 

The cool wind nipped at your cheeks as you tried to borrow yourself deeper into the collar of your coat. You thought that perhaps you should have just waited in the car, but, then again, you weren’t exactly familiar with the protocol for proper dates. The dim lighting offered by the awning outside of the quietly buzzing restaurant cast a soft glow onto the wooden bench you were sitting on as you anxiously peered at the parking lot. 

Just as you were on the brink of losing a toe to hyperthermia, an older looking, black cat peeled into the parking lot, barely coming to a stop before the driver’s door was swinging open. Choso’s frantic gaze caught yours almost instantly, and he almost appeared relieved that you hadn’t left.

“I’m so sorry, I know I’m late.” He babbled, shutting his door firmly before glancing into the back of his car. “Look, I um… I understand if you’re not cool with this, but my babysitter canceled on me last minute.”

In the midst of his hesitant explanation, he was tugging the backseat open, offering you one last apprehensive glance before ducking his head in. When he emerged once again, it was with a pink-haired, bright-eyed toddler in his arms. You stood up as Choso walked your way, whispering something that, by the look of the softly stern expression on his face, looked to be a warning to behave to his little brother before setting him down.

“I’m really sorry about this. If you want to go I—”

“Aren’t you gonna introduce me to my date, Choso?” Your mockingly stern tone halted his mortified rambling. 

The boy, barely reaching his brother’s mid-thigh, was looking up at you with that fiercely curious expression that only a toddler assessing your danger level could pull off. His small, gloved hand was clutching onto Choso’s pointer and middle finger as the fake fur on his tiger beanie swayed with the gust of wind that whipped his way. 

It certainly wasn’t how you had expected to spend your night off, but something about that exasperated guilt in Choso’s tone made your heart clench. All these years you had spent worrying about which douchebag you’d be picking yourself back up over, and this man, who couldn’t have been much older than you at all, had never had that stupid privilege. Such a miniscule act as not raising a fuss over his bringing his baby brother to dinner with him had him staring at you as though you’d hung the stars in the sky, and you suddenly decided that you had made the right decision that night. 

A small, delighted smile tugged at his lips, and he quickly looked down to nudge the boy forward.

“This is Yuji, and he promised he was going to be on his best behavior for our friend tonight, right?” Choso urged with a subtle desperation hidden in his eyes. Your heart nearly melted as he nodded ardently with a soft sneeze.

“Niichan never has girl friends—” 

“Okay, Yuji! Why don’t you show her how you open the door like a gentleman?” He eagerly cut off his brother’s innocent confession with a rapidly flushing face, scooping him up so that he could reach the handle. You offered a knowing, sidelong glance at the flustered man, unable to bite back your tickled smile as you nodded to Yuji in thanks as he held the door open for you with a prideful beam.

Choso had just about jumped out of his skin when your name randomly popped onto his phone. He must have re-read your text twenty times to assure he was understanding correctly, because the girl who had been radio silent for nearly a month was asking if tonight was a good night for her to cash in on the dinner he owed her. 

Truthfully, it wasn’t a good night. He had been expecting to stay home with Yuji tonight given he didn’t have a match, and his brother didn’t have school the next morning. Because of that, he really didn’t have anyone lined up to babysit tonight. He frantically called his usual babysitter, practically begging her to come on such short notice, and he nearly did a backflip when she agreed. 

Yuji was following him around the house with that lighthearted laugh, the kind that made Choso think that maybe he wasn’t doing such a bad job at taking care of him after all, asking him why he was practically bouncing around the house as he rushed to shower and dug recklessly through his closet for something decent to wear. 

It had all come crashing down on him just ten minutes before he was supposed to leave, already having explained to his little brother that his babysitter would be coming tonight, when the woman in question called to let him know that her shift at her full-time job had gone over schedule. He sat hunched over his phone on the couch for what seemed like eternity as he contemplated what to do.

It had taken you an entire month to finally agree to a date with him. Would you change your mind if he canceled on you with such short notice? Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he noted that he was already going to be late, and the thought of leaving you waiting for him at the restaurant had him making the executive decision to bundle his little brother up in his winter clothes and pack him in the car with him. 

Halfway to the restaurant was when it hit him that perhaps this wasn’t the best idea, but it was too late now. He wasn’t sure anything could have prepared him for how quickly you’d let it slide off your shoulders, and certainly not for how easily you’d work Yuji into what was meant to be a date with just you two. 

Here he was though, lips parted stupidly as he watched you allow the boy to steal bites off of your plate (despite how many times he’d already swatted his hand away in mortification) and follow along with all the longwinded stories that toddlers were so good at telling with no real conclusion in sight. It seemed impossible for him to have found you anymore beautiful than he already did, but you were proving him wrong with every affectionate smile sent his way each time Yuji would innocently reveal another humiliating detail about his older brother to you.

“If I had known he was going to woo you so hard I would have left him in the car.” Choso joked with a timid smile, already having had his fill of embarrassment for one night following Yuji’s announcement that he cried everytime he watched Brother Bear with him.

You thought having the five-year-old around helped lessen what typically would have been a painfully awkward first date. Additionally, the seemingly tight-knit relationship they had made you wonder how Choso had found himself with such a responsibility so young in the first place. Of course, with Yuji around, it was hard to veer onto the topic. 

“And how else would I have found out so much about the big, bad Choso Kamo?” You teased as Yuji busied himself with a coloring page the waitress had brought over (much to his brother’s relief). “Brother Bear, huh? Can’t blame you, that one used to get me too.”

“I don’t cry everytime.” 

“Mhmm,” With an unconvinced hum, you peered up at him through the rim of your cup as you took a sip. “So, what turned you into a bear then, hm?”

The fond smile on his face slowly dissipated, leading you to believe that what you thought was a harmlessly joking question held more depth than you gave it credit for. Soon, your smile was quickly falling too as you sat up a little straighter.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” He reassured, attempting to bring that same lighthearted nature back around, but his eyes were heavier as he regarded you kindly. “I just… had to be.”

It was the only explanation he offered you, and somehow it was enough for you to understand the gravity of whatever their situation must have been— at least for now.

“So,” Your gaze fluttered about his chiseled face as you tried to rectify the now solemn energy at the table. Glancing toward Yuji, you noted that he was still concentrated on his coloring, a crayon clutched in one hand and a fry in the other. Still, you lowered your voice a bit as you leaned in closer to Choso. “How did your rematch go?”

“Thought you said you weren’t into it.” 

“Didn’t say I wasn’t into you.”

This caught him off guard, whatever fleeting confidence he had to banter back and forth with you flying out the window just as your own words processed back to you. For a fleeting moment, you almost allowed yourself to be embarrassed by your own forwardness. Something about how easily he could be rendered speechless made it worth it though. After a moment, his lips twitched up nervously as he tried to reign in control of the conversation once again. 

“Thought you liked assholes.” Choso whispered, praying his little brother wasn’t going to absorb that word into his subconscious to spring on him later. 

Pursing your lips, you looked down at the cracked phone screen that had pulled you out of your stupor just hours prior. The man followed your eyes, taking note of the way you ran your finger absentmindedly down the shattered glass. You didn’t say anything, but he seemed to have heard it all, his face falling in quiet recognition. He had seen it before— that look of silent defeat in your eyes fighting against a cycle all too familiar to him.

“The rematch was good.” He offered with a soft, knowing smile, hoping to pull you from wherever your thoughts had wandered to. You peered back up at him. “Kicked his ass. I can be an asshole too— just… not to you, yeah?”

Choso couldn’t have known how deep his words burrowed themselves into your mind, replaying on repeat that entire drive home as your heart pounded against your chest. He had walked you to your car after dinner, Yuji clinging onto his back as he drifted off into what looked to be a nasty food coma. The look on his face said that he wasn’t sure what to do next, but you could certainly guess what was on his mind. 

So, you were grateful when his little brother stirred away and tugged at his hair, pouting about it being too cold and wanting to go home. The man’s shoulder’s deflated ever-so-slightly, and he offered an apologetic smile and a promise that he’d text you.

You weren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. 

Choso Kamo scared you unlike any other raging hot-head had ever managed to in the past. At least with your past… distasteful selections, you could predict their moves, you knew it would only go so far. With him though, you could feel yourself wanting more, because he was sweet and genuine, and he was the type of guy that would make a nest in your heart so as not to disturb your peace rather than shatter it with an attempt to mold it to accommodate the jagged edges he refused to file down.

Without the expected downfalls of the disasters you set yourself up for, how could you prepare yourself if he disappointed you in a way you hadn’t already premeditated? Other men filtered in and out of your life, never leaving an impact heavier than a break of routine in their wake— but Choso? If you allowed him to stay, you knew it would ache in ways you’d never known if Choso left. 

Despite your fear of falling, you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore him when he texted you later that night asking if you'd made it home, or even the next morning when he wished you a good shift. With each affectionate-smiled reply, you could feel your stomach twisting in fear as you hoped you’d snap out of this haze before the shoe dropped. 

It was the very reason that you hesitated when your phone rang just two days later, his name lighting up your phone at an hour far too late at night to be considered friendly. Blinking back the tired haze in your eyes from staring at your television for too long, you felt that familiar anxiety swimming in your throat. Your thumb trembled nervously as it hovered over the button to accept the call. Shaking off your nerves, you swiped to answer the call. 

“Hey, Cho—”

“Hello?” His voice was panicked on the other line, making you sit up from where you had been vegetating on your couch. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know it’s late— I need your help.”

Muffled in the background, you could hear the distinct wailing of a child you assumed to be his little brother. The sound made you kick the blanket off your lap, already breaking out into a nervous cold-sweat. 

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Yuji— he’s sick, and his fever won’t go down, and he’s not keeping down any of his medicine, and—”

“Okay, calm down.” You cut off his nervous rambling as you shoved your boots on under your fleece pajama pants. “How high is his fever? You should take him to urgent care.”

“I’m trying, h-he has a thing with hospitals.” The man sounded as though he was on the brink of tears, panting subtly in a manner that had you wondering how long he had been wrestling with the boy in order to get him to an urgent care before he gave up and called you. “Please, I don’t know what to do.”

Choso could barely hear your knocking over his brother’s incessant crying, and had he been more alert of his surroundings he would have wondered how in the hell his neighbors hadn’t sent in a noise complaint yet. After nearly a minute with no response, you knocked again, more forcefully this time. 

When he finally opened the door, you would have assumed that he was the one battling a flu— what with his flushed face, disheveled locks, and red waterline. Having to endure his brother’s suffering alone was killing him, and he’d never felt more useless than he did tonight. 

“Choso…” You sighed regretfully, nearly reaching up to pull him into a hug, but he was quickly latching onto your wrist to pull you into the living room where Yuji was bundled up on the couch, his little face flaming with a mix of the exertion from his pained wails and the fever that was still ravaging his system. 

Kneeling down beside the couch, you touched your hand against his forehead. Even with the frigidness that still nipped at your hands from the chill outside, it was clear that he was practically scorching.

“He’s burning up, Choso.” You muttered frantically, making quick work to pull the countless blankets off of him. He was kicking out in protest with each layer you removed, and his brother was quickly moving to push his legs down lest you get kicked in the face. “You need to cool him down.”

“He— he kept shivering…” The man was gulping down tears of frustration, because all he was trying to do was to get him to stop crying. It was breaking his heart with each octave he reached, and he was sure that he’d find a way to make the sun rise early if it meant he could have stopped whatever it was that was making Yuji so uncomfortable. 

“It’s okay,” You reassured, taking note of the fragile emotional state this situation had put him in. It was becoming clearer by the minute that Choso was new to doing this on his own. “We need to put him in a cold bath.”

The man nodded in a haze, reaching down to scoop the flailing boy into his arms as he cried out in protest. You followed closely behind him as he made his way to the bathroom and flipped the light on. 

“I’m cold!” Yuji choked out, only making his brother feel that much more guilty as he pried his clothes off of him. You stepped around him to fill the tub with cool water. 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Choso mumbled despondently, dodging each of his kicks with stunning precision. “We’re trying to help you, buddy, okay?”

“What have you given him?” You questioned, finally shedding your puffer jacket you began to sweat with the frantic movements. 

“Nothing, he’s spitting everything out.” Choso’s voice raised in exasperation, though you knew better than to think it was directed at you. 

You paced out the restroom as he lowered Yuji into the frigid water, and you thought surely his throat would start to bleed soon from the way his screams were scratching it raw. It didn’t take long for you to find the medicine cabinet after rummaging through the kitchen, and you made quick work to toss a fever reducer into a plastic bag to begin crushing it. Peeking your head into the refrigerator, you grabbed the carton of apple juice that was sitting on the shelf. Once your child-proof cocktail was thoroughly mixed, you made your way back down the hall.

“Please, Yuji, just sit still.” You heard Choso pleading desperately, followed by the frantic splashes of the attempted escapee. 

“Let me go!”

“It’ll make you feel better—”

“I want Mom!” 

You paused in the doorway at Yuji’s sobbed request, unsure whether or not to intrude. Clutching the cup to your constricting chest, you leaned against the wall just beside the bathroom door as you heard Choso sigh despairingly.

“Mom’s not here, Yuji. We’ve talked about this, please. Don’t do this to me.” His tone wavered notably, and it was clear that the dam holding up the strongest parts of him was weakening by the second, but his younger brother only repeated his request. 

“Yuji,” You called out, finally stepping in to kneel beside Choso. He quickly cast his gaze down, but not before you caught the tears slipping down his face. Brushing back the pink hair that clung to the boy’s forehead as he panted up at you through choked cries, you showed him the cup. “Look, if you drink all your juice then we’ll get your bed nice and ready for you, okay?” 

He sniffled messily as his blubbering slowed, eyeing you skeptically. 

“It’s apple juice, see?” You tilted the cup closer toward him so he could see the familiar yellow color. Noting his apprehension, you leaned in closer to whisper to him in feigned secrecy. “Niichan can’t protect the city if you don’t get better.”

Through dewy hiccups, he slowly released the grip his little hands had on Choso’s wrists to take the cup from you. Beside you, his brother heaved out a sigh of relief watching as he quickly downed the cup, eager to get into his bed and under the covers as promised. The both of you held your breaths until the last drop was sucked up. 

After running a few more handfuls of cold water over his head for good measure, you nodded at Choso to take him out once his skin was finally a bit cooler to the touch. As he dried and dressed his brother back up to prepare him for bed, you busied yourself with cleaning up the puddles of water Yuji’s thrashing had created on the floor of the bathroom. A good couple of minutes had passed before apprehensive footsteps finally made their way back to the bathroom where you remained kneeled on the floor. 

“I’m sorry.” Choso whispered, slowly lowering himself down beside you. 

You peered over at him as he buried his head into his hands. The t-shirt he wore was clinging to his chest as it still dripped with leftover bath water along with the ends of his loose, tousled hair. His shoulders shook every so often with the sniffles he was trying so desperately to conceal, but it had all been too much for him. 

“I know the last thing you wanted to be doing on your day off was working.” He continued as he finally looked up at you, tears of frustration swimming in his dark, tired eyes. “I just— I didn’t know—”

“Choso?” You whispered, resting a careful hand on his raised knee. He blinked at you in question, swiping furiously at the tear that raced down his flushed cheek at the motion. “How… how did you end up with Yuji?”

His eyes quickly fell, observing the way his knuckles whitened as he clenched and unclenched his hands pensively. 

“He’s my half-brother.” He began quietly. A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he looked back up at you. “Wanna talk assholes? My step-dad— Yuji’s dad— was just…”

You gulped, watching the way his jaw seemed to clench unconsciously at the memory of him. A gradual sense of dread twisted in your stomach as you began to guess where his story would go. 

“We fought all the time. Our mom hated it, but I couldn’t stand the way he treated her, and it—” Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the ceiling to calm the way his tears seemed to continue to betray him. “It killed me that she let him.”

Your gaze fluttered with their own misty haze as his words sunk in, an unnecessary guilt clawing at your chest. Shuddering away the tremble in his tone, he finally looked back down at you. Swiping at his nose with a quick sniffle, he continued. 

“We got into a huge fight a while after I finished school. He was mad about— god, I can’t even remember what had him so heated, but h-he threw a bottle at our mom.”

“Choso…” You sighed shakily, shifting forward to grasp at his hand. Though he made no attempt to halt his story, he accepted your hand, fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly as another tear raced down his face. 

“I told him that if he wanted to throw shit to throw it at me.” With red-splotched eyes, he offered a humorless laugh and gestured toward the jagged scar that ran across his face. It was now you who was failing to hold back stinging tears. “I thought after— I don’t know, twenty stitches that she’d leave, but she didn’t. So, I did.”

His head dropped down toward his chest, shaking side to side regretfully. 

“I left. I wasn’t there for her when she died— I wasn’t there for Yuji.” You quickly climbed over to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his face into your chest as you allowed yourself to cry silently along with him. “I left him. He was only three. I left him, I—”

“You came back for him, Choso.” You quickly interjected. 

“I should’ve never left in the first place.” His fingers drifted up to dig into your back as you settled onto his lap. “I thought if I learned how to fight— y’know, got bigger and stronger that he couldn’t hurt me anymore, he couldn’t hurt my mom anymore cause I would finally be able to do something about it, but I was just scared. I was scared, and I left.”

“You were just a kid.” You clarified, sliding your hands down to grip his face and force him to look at you. “And you’re here now.”

The grip you had on his cheeks forced his lips into a smushed pout, his wet lashes emphasizing the dark circles that surrounded his irises. Your thumb grazed gently over the scar on his face, and it broke your heart even more as you pictured it on a smaller, more defenseless version of him. You could see that Choso still ever-present in the fear that lingered in his eyes, in the doubt that clung to his frown that told him that nothing he could do for Yuji would ever be enough. 

“And I’d like to see someone try to lay a finger on Yuji now.” You encouraged with a soft laugh. The tiniest of smiles cracked through his solemn gaze, but he was still searching your eyes with an intensity that nearly knocked you on your ass. 

“Why do you do it?” He questioned, his voice barely above a whisper. You tilted your head at him curiously. “I mean, you have a good job, you’re smart, and pretty, and you’re kind— why give it to people who don’t deserve you?”

His hands dug firmly into your waist as you attempted to lean away from his raw stare. You felt naked— humiliatingly exposed as though you had just been the one to air your dirty laundry out. The hands on your sides drew you in closer and closer with each pathetic open and close of your stammering lips.

“I think I came to terms a long time ago with the fact that I’d never get to understand why my mom stayed. I had to be okay with it.” Choso’s brows were furrowing as his gaze drifted down your face before meeting yours once again. “Then I met you, and… I feel that same frustration I felt when I was a teenager.” 

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” The scarred bridge of his nose grazed against yours as the two of you drew closer. With a strained gulp, you shook your head. “Do you—” He paused as his face flushed, but he fought to push past his timid nature. “Do you want someone to be mean to you? Is that what it is?”

“Choso—”

“Because if that’s the case then let it be me, okay?” His plea had you biting back a wanton whine, because his lips were brushing against yours with all the anticipation of a building promise. Your fingers tangled into the drying hair on his nape. “I’ll be rough with you, and I’ll make you want to cry.”

Leaning forward, he slotted his mouth around your pouted bottom lip, pressing you closer against him as you two pulled at one another despairingly. 

“I’ll be an asshole, but I’ll never hurt you— it’ll always be for you. Is that what you want?”

You could only nod hazily, too lost in the desperation in his tone and the craving he’d instilled in you for the lips you’d only come to know just minutes prior. Without so much as a grunt of effort, he was lifting himself off the ground with you in tow, stumbling toward the hallway in a craven pursuit of his bedroom. The hand holding you up against him squeezed vigorously at your ass, pinching at it until you yelped out into his lips.

“Shh, Yuji’s sleeping.” He still had the nerve to chastise you lowly, using your back to press the door shut. 

With you squeezed between him and the door behind you, he allowed his hand to dance up and grip your jaw, hooking his thumb into the corner of it as his forefinger dug into your bottom lip and pried your mouth ajar. You panted against him, eyes half-lidded as you awaited his next move with baited breath, but as he’d promised, it felt as though he wanted you to cry for him, his lips exploring your neck and jaw at an agonizing pace.

“Choso—” Your plea was cut short by your gasp as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder that had been left exposed in the flimsy tank you had been wearing to bed prior to his call. He moaned against your skin, digging his canines ever-so-slightly deeper into the flesh to feel the way you jolted at the sting. “Ah— ahh!”

The man only hummed contentedly, arm hooking under your thighs once again to pry you from the wall and drop you onto the disheveled covers of his bed and pull the damp shirt from his back. He surveyed the way your eyes ran down his body, your reddened lips parted and your brows drawn softly together, and he deduced that he couldn’t possibly look at you if he was to ravage you like he hated you. 

Dipping down, he flipped you easily onto your stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants. Pausing for a moment, he leaned down, and you shuddered at the feeling of his warm chest pressing you against the bed.

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispered into your ear, knowing it would only take a shake of your head for his resolve to crumble. 

Your ribcage expanded and deflated beneath him in tandem with your anticipatory panting, and you could only nod through your flushed face, too embarrassed to confirm your desires aloud, yet your senses too lit ablaze by every inch of muscle you could feel on him to deny yourself the pleasure. There was a longing kiss pressed against your temple— an unspoken promise that he meant it when he said he wouldn’t hurt you— before he slowly pulled away from you to yank your bottoms down. 

Choso bit down on his bottom lip, rough enough to draw blood as he fought to maintain his composure. Running his hands up your thighs until they met the swell of your ass, he raised a knee to rest beside your hip before hiking your ass up. 

“Make me understand it.” He pleaded, a subtle growl laced into his tone as he drew teasingly close to where you were throbbing for him. 

“I don’t know, Choso—” Your voice had raised to an embarrassing pitch as you fisted his sheets between your fingers. They smelled just like him, and it was by no means aiding in your coherent thought process.

“Do you need someone to tell you you’re worth more?” At once, his fingers plunged into your incandescent center, twisting mercilessly as he continued to ration with you. “Because I’ll do it, I’ll remind you every fucking day if I have to.”

But his words were quickly becoming background noise that harmonized sweetly with each of your slack-jawed moans. Reaching back, your fingers barely grazed his wrist in an attempt to gain any semblance of control over his pace, but he quickly collected both your hands in his free one to pin them at the small of your back.

“Is that what you need?” He asked again, and his fingers curled up with a striking precision, drawing a pathetically pitched squeak from the depths of your throat. 

You buried your face into the sheets to conceal the way your eyes began to water at the growing warmth pooling overwhelmingly fast in your stomach. After a moment of your whimpering silence, his fingers abandoned you in favor of a resounding smack against your sensitive core. Your legs seemed to snap shut involuntarily, but it didn’t last long before he pried them open once again. 

“Answer me.” Choso demanded. His tone was barely stern— the fervent desperation to understand more present than anything. He threaded his fingers into your hair to pull your head to the side and reveal your face. “I said is this what you needed?”

“Yes!” You gasped, your hearing feeling as though it had increased tenfold as you listened to his sweatpants rusting while they hit the ground. “Please, please, Choso.” 

Despite his insistence that he’d be rough with you as you so pleased, he couldn’t bring himself to stop the gentle way in which he eased into you, savoring each hitch in your breath. Hooking his arm under your neck, he pulled you up to press flush against his perspiring chest, the slow descent up aiding in burying the last few inches of him into you. 

There was a crack in his resolve, evident in the broken moan that his lips pressed right against your flushed ear. The tears that he had promised you finally slipped down your cheeks. His eyes tracked it with a sharp vigilance, the sight making him pull you in that much closer. With a hand gentler than what he had planned for you, he swiped at the salty stream before allowing his fingers to settle around the column of your throat. 

“Keep crying for me.” 

And he made sure you did, his pace relentless as his sculpted hips slapped against your ass. For each overwhelmed tear of pleasure that escaped you, Choso chased it with a kiss; to your cheek and your jaw, to your helplessly parted lips and temple until there wasn’t an inch of you within his reach that his lips hadn’t become acquainted with. You thought your back would snap in two as you arched against him through your high, yet his furious pace didn’t slow until you slumped back against him, only held up by the hand at your throat and his will. 

The man watched as your head fell back onto his shoulders, eyes half-lidded as they stared at the way his gaze never seemed to falter. Only then did he pause, carefully lowering you to lay on your back against his cool pillows. Crawling over you, it was clear that his intent had shifted with the fulfillment of his goal. 

His hair tickled your cheeks as he leaned down to capture your lips tenderly. Reaching down, he caressed the side of your neck with the same hand he had used to restrain it as he entered you once again, this time with the intent of proving that it didn’t always have to be so merciless. With each purposeful roll of his hips into you he proved that you too were worthy of being handled with all the gentleness he had never been on the receiving end of. 

Choso clung onto you as he finished, and he didn’t leave when you allowed yourself to wrap your arms under his shoulders and press your cheek against his heaving chest. Instead, he pulled the covers up and assured they reached your shoulders that had since broken out into goosebumps— though you weren’t sure you could blame them on the cold. 

He brought your hands up to kiss the parts of your wrists that had been locked in his fierce grip. For the first time in years you weren’t itching to leave before he had the chance to leave you, because all the weight and muscle he’d worked so hard for in order to protect that scared, teenage boy in him were enveloping you with a crushing safety while his faint snores into your ear lulled you to sleep. 

Perhaps Yuji wasn’t so naive in believing his big brother was a superhero.

masterlist | requests | talk to me ❤︎

I love hearing everyone's thoughts! ◝⠀(ᵔᵕᵔ)⠀◜

[redeemingvillains]

of magic & mayhem - mattheo riddle

summary: the strongest wizard of your age also happens to be hogwarts' playboy, and when he sets his sights on you, you realize neither of you have a choice in the matter.

word count: 3k

a/n: this is like nine of my concepts all mashed into one! heavily influenced by my re-read of fourth wing in preparation for onyx storm coming out, anyone who wants to scream about that in my inbox, please do <3

The Great Hall echoed with the excited chatter of friends and classmates and the general cacophony of breakfast; the sounds of scraping cutlery and the clink of dishes and goblets. You and Pansy sat in genial silence as you read your book and she eyed the gossip column of the Daily Prophet.

You were so totally transfixed on your book that you didn't see the looming figure in front of you until he placed his hands on the oak table and leaned casually across it into your airspace.

"Good morning" he drawled smoothly in a deep voice that caused you to glace up only to see Mattheo Riddle's large amber eyes twinkling at you, matched with a smirk that made you feel like you had pixies in your stomach.

You could smell his cologne from this distance, an undeniable mix of woodsmoke, evergreen and cinnamon that made you feel heady.

"Pansy" he acknowledged, nodding at her as she glanced up at him with a surprise that matched your own.

"Mrs. Riddle" he said, acknowledging you as his electric gaze found yours. You felt a deep blush on your cheeks, even as your face scrunched in confusion and your eyes searched his face for a hint of a joke, finding none.

"What did you just call me?" you asked, cocking your head. As much as you tried to supress it, a small smile graced your lips, which didn't go unnoticed.

"What?" he said in mock surprise. "You don't like it? I think it's perfect."

A pause.

"It suits you" he said confidently. He winked at you as your eyebrows shot up and he turned and walked away without another word.

You turned to look at Pansy who was open-mouthed gaping after him before turning to look at you.

"What was that!?" she exclaimed, excited, like you knew something she didn't.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes despite the hammering of your heart in your chest.

"He's a complete flirt, Pans, I'm not putting a lot of weight in whatever he's woken up and decided to say today."

But even as the words came out of your mouth, you couldn't help but feel excited that you'd caught his attention, even if you knew how delicately dangerous it could be.

"But Mrs. Riddle?! Please. I am dying oh my gods!" she said.

"No, we're not even thinking about this. Not unless you want to listen to me cry myself to sleep in three weeks when I've completely fallen for him and he's moved on to someone else. We all know how this goes and I'm not stupid enough to fall for it."

Pansy pursed her lips as she bounced in her seat with excitement, like she was going to explode.

"Okay, but maybe, just hear me out—" she started.

"—No" you said emphatically, as much to her as to yourself.

She stuck her tongue out at you and you returned the gesture.

It was no secret you were sought after; you had your fair share of dates and suitors. And it was no secret that Mattheo Riddle took the concept of incredibly hot fuckboy to another level, which is why, despite his comment and increasingly insistent stares you kept your distance.

Try as you might to forget what he said, or the way his dark eyes had twinkled mischievously as they drank you in, you found your thoughts drifting to him more times than you'd care to admit, and he had no intention of making it any easier for you, because now every time he saw you, he made a point of using your new nickname.

"Good morning, Mrs. Riddle" he said as he passed you in the Great Hall the next day.

"Have a good day, Mrs. Riddle!" he shouted from the opposite side of the common room, which garnered a significant amount of attention and whispers.

"Let me get the door for you, Mrs. Riddle" he said, pushing your classmates out of the way to do so.

"Mmm, gorgeous as ever, Mrs. Riddle" he whispered walking by you in the library in a way that felt like the words themselves danced over every inch of your body.

Pansy was nearly inconsolable over the situation, egging it on eagerly and even picking it up herself.

"Good night, Mrs. Riddle" she said to you as you crawled into bed in your shared dormitory.

"Lay off it, Pansy! Gods" you replied, even as you grinned like an idiot to yourself.

But then she wasn't the only one.

After less than a week of it, the rumor spread like fiendfyre and now Mattheo's friends were smirking at you in the corridor, waving teasingly to you in the common room and offering you every ounce of preferential treatment befitting of the name: knocking Potter off his chair when he took your seat in Potions, forcing a first-year to stand outside your dormitory holding your favorite latte every morning, and ensuring you had a coveted first row seat at their quidditch matches, including the House Cup, which you were excitedly getting ready for when Pansy burst into your room.

"You will never guess what I just heard" she said, grabbing you by the shoulders.

"What's that?" you asked, humoring her frenetic energy.

"Astoria Greengrass having a sob in the girls lav. You know how she and Mattheo have hooked up a few times?—"

You didn't, in fact, know that and couldn't help the pang of jealousy that gripped your chest.

"—Well I heard her telling Penelope Clearwater that he says he doesn't want to anymore and he told Harmony Norman and Maria Warner the same thing!"

Your face tangled in disgust.

"How many girls is he hooking up with? And why do you look so happy about it? What a mess…" you said, sighing as you turned to resume your makeup.

"Why, all of a sudden is he breaking all of them off, hmm?" she said, cocking an eyebrow at you in your mirror.

"I don't know" you said shiftily. "Maybe he's trying to be a better person?!—"

"—Or maybe he has his eyes set on someone else?!" she said insistently. "You know, someone he's given a special nickname to, his name to?"

You opened your mouth to argue with her but you couldn't deny the logic of her statement.

The boys pulled it off, sweeping Gryffindor in the House Cup for the first time in years and the ensuing celebration was electric.

The music in the common room was loud enough to sway the chandeliers in the ceiling, to feel the bass vibrating in your body.

Every Slytherin you knew and quite a few friends from other houses were there, the normally cavernous room filled in a way that made it feel like some sort of night club, bodies covering every inch of space, melding and weaving between each other and raising the temperature of the normally dank dungeon air.

You couldn't help but search the flashing lights and otherwise utter chaos for Mattheo and you didn't have to look for long the way he stood a head taller than almost everyone in the room, even surrounded by his large teammates; not to mention the way they were walking around like kings, taking turns chugging champagne out of their trophy, raucous, rowdy and loud as people cheered around them.

Mattheo himself was in rare form, his handsome curls were slightly askew and his cheeks were rosy from the alcohol and general liveliness of the night. He was dressed in a fitted black tshirt and dark pants and was exuding an energy that was magnetic, even from where you were standing; undeniably, your heart thumped in your chest at the sight of him.

Had you gotten a little dressed up? Of course. It was a celebration, an occasion, why wouldn't you? But as you wound through the sea of bodies, fingers twined in Pansy's, you garnered enough stares and double-takes that had you thinking you may have slightly overdone it.

"Oh, okay queen!" Pansy had said the minute she'd seen your outfit, the way you'd done your makeup and styled your hair, knowing, perhaps, exactly what or who had been on your mind.

You stopped to grab a drink and your cup had barely touched your lips before two guys came up to you that you recognized vaguely from the year below you. They were admittedly cute and you smiled as they compliment you and chatted with you. You leaned in closer to hear them over the music and the crowd and the one closest to you ducked his head toward you when you felt a tingle run from the base of your neck down your spine and a large, warm hand wound its way around your waist, pulling you firmly backwards into what felt like a pliable brick wall. You were startled for only a moment until you caught the undeniable scent of evergreen, of cinnamon.

"Brian is it? Blake? Blaire? Why don't you go get a drink, buddy?" his voice rumbled near your ear, more of a command than a suggestion as Bradley's eyes shot up over your shoulder to the shadow looming there and nodded quickly, retreating.

"Aww" you pouted sarcastically as you turned around. "He was nice, we were having fun!"

You met Mattheo's eyes which were so dark they looked nearly jet black as they glared at you. Had he been jealous?

And like he could read your mind his lip twitched and he rolled his eyes.

"Even if he had a chance with you, which, let's be very clear, he doesn't, he wouldn't know what to do with it."

"And, let me guess, you would?" you asked teasingly.

"Care to find out?" he asked matter-of-factly.

You felt a wave wash over you from your head to your toes, your body tingling with his proximity, with the way his eyes met yours directly, unfaltering despite the myriad distractions around him.

Gods yes you thought, even as you bit your bottom lip, teetering on the edge of a decision you knew you couldn't come back from.

His eyes shamelessly fell to your lips and you suddenly realized that his hands had never left you as they flexed at your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin like he was holding onto you for purchase.

"C'mon" he said, not waiting for a coherent reply from you, which you may never have been able to form had he kept looking at you that way.

His hands left your body only long enough to tangle his fingers in yours and hold them tightly, pulling you behind him as he headed into the sea of bodies on the dance floor, weaving between some as others offered him a wide berth and a congratulations when they realized who he was.

Then, like he was moving in slow motion, he turned to face you, twining your fingers further in his as he pulled you into him, guiding your hand over his shoulder so you were flush to his chest, and his other hand found your waist again, his grip firm and unyielding as he held you to him as if you would argue or try to be anywhere but right here.

You could feel every dip and curve of his body against yours as you moved against each other in a way that felt perfect and also not nearly enough, even though you couldn't get any closer.

You let the hand on his shoulder wander to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling into the curls there and even though the music was loud enough that you could barely hear yourself think, you could feel as much as hear the growl that released in his chest as his hands tightened on you in a way you were certain would leave a bruise.

The lights flickered for just a second, and a few people stopped dancing and shouted but his eyes never left yours, the only acknowledgement he offered, a small grimace on his face, which made you want to kiss his lips back into his irritatingly perfect smirk.

He leaned in, pressing his cheek to yours as his lips hovered to your ear.

"You look stunning, Mrs. Riddle."

He leaned back and you could see his signature smirk gracing his lips again. You opened your mouth to reply as your eyes met his, but your head was swimming at this point. Everything was him all at once, his body against yours, taught and warm to your touch, his breath on you that smelled like cinnamon gum, his cologne, you felt yourself melting into him at his words, closing the only remaining inches between your hips as your hands came to his face and your noses brushed — and then the lights went out in earnest, drowning you in complete darkness.

"Fuck" you heard him mutter strongly before grasping your hand in his as he started to pull you through the imperceptible forms of people who were yelling and shouting, blazing a path through them, pushing people aside brusquely where necessary. He was on a war path and your feet moved quicky to follow him as he cleared most of the crowd and headed directly for the boys dormitory.

He pulled you into a maze of adjoining corridors before swiping his hand causing an approaching door to fly open as he pulled you in behind him. You were barely through it before he swiped his hand again and it slammed closed behind you, forcefully, the energy pouring off of him in a way that reminded you just how strong of a wizard he was, and exactly why absolutely nobody fucked with him.

He turned to you finally, his chest rising and falling as he gripped your waist and pushed you gently against the closed door with a thud. He let his other hand rest beside your head, caging you in. The look of lust on his face was still there, tangled with the same grimace from before, like he was angry, like he was holding something in.

"Mattheo...?" you whispered and he ducked his head away from you, his eyes squeezing shut as the hand at your waist squeezed again, the touch sending an electric tingle up your side that made you gasp.

His gaze came back to you and then he was leaning in, his nose brushing yours again and your hands came to wind around his neck. You caught a glimpse of a smile on his lips as they hovered over yours, barely grazing them, and you could feel static electricity there between you, the air itself alight with energy, vibrating. The temptation was driving you mad, your chest visibly rising and falling against his own and then his lips fell to yours, warm, soft and urgent.

He took your face in his hands and pressed you into the door and you hummed against him. The lights in the room flickered once, then twice, and then rapidly like you were in a horror film before they went out completely, drenching you both in a velvet darkness that was somehow welcoming, like you could feel the shadows themselves dancing over your body, caressing you, enveloping you.

You felt his tongue against your bottom lip and you opened up to him. Your tongued flicked against his and a freezing gust of wind blew papers, books and quills off his desk, hurling them to the ground with a clatter and bang. Mattheo never stopped, his tongue continued to glide over yours and he kissed you like it was the last godsdamn thing he'd ever do.

He hoisted you up so your legs wrapped around his waist and he pressed you back into the door before releasing your lips just long enough to trail kisses down your jaw to your neck that he lavished in a way you were certain there would be a violet bruise in the morning.

Your eyes fluttered in pleasure, lost in him for a moment until you caught sight of the room around you and you froze.

It was midnight black but for the moonlight coming through the window which cast everything in a ghostly shade of white, but what caught your eye was that every object in the room was floating, adrift in the air, the bed, the desk, the bookshelf, all hovering feet off the ground. Lightweight objects like clothing, quills and his books floated higher and higher and then you realized that it was cold enough to see your breath in front of you.

"Mattheo" you breathed, trying to get his attention. Your hand carded through his curls and the chair in the corner took flight.

Wait. Was this him?

"Mrs. Riddle?" he murmured in your neck.

"Mattheo" you said again, a stronger urgency in your voice causing him to relent and look up at you with a puff of air of his own.

"Fuck" he said. "It's – yeah. That's me. Well, that's you actually."

"What?"

"S'no secret that my magic is ... strong. And I'm well practiced at controlling it. With... one exception."

He took your hand and placed it over his chest where you could feel his heart hammering.

You searched his eyes and his eyebrow quirked until he gestured to his room. As if to say 'see?'

This boy had quite literally lost his control at your touch.

"Wait, the lights? The music?" you asked, a small smile on your lips at the realization.

"When you touched me, I just—" he shook his head, exhaling another puff of cold air. "—See what you do to me, Mrs. Riddle?" he said.

"Gods, when are you going to stop calling me that?" you laughed, even as you looked at him and traced a finger over his lips.

"When it's true" he said simply.

You looked confused for a moment until he leaned into you again, his magic radiating off of him.

"What?" you breathed.

"When you're mine, and it's official and I won't have to spend all of my free time reminding everyone you're mine, they'll know. Until then, I'll hedge my bets."

He kissed you.

"Mmpf, but what if I didn't want you to stop?" you murmured against him.

He pulled back to look at you, scanning your face for any sign of a joke, and finding none as your eyes connected with his and his lip quirked in a smile.

"Well, princess,” he whispered against your lips, ghosting them with his, teasing you before biting your bottom lip gently in a way that sent a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the freezing air.

“Whatever Mrs. Riddle wants—” he murmured, kissing you fully, luxuriously, “—Mrs. Riddle gets.”

ˋ°•*⁀➷ I have the tiniest little epilogue that I'll post soon, let me know if you want to be tagged!

taglist: @kenjikishimotoswifey @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @darlingshecried @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @chelawrites @loverliner

[4linos]

you don’t want to get married/have kids.

3racha x fem!reader

warnings: angst. hurt/comfort.

wc: 5044

bang chan

You both left your best friend's home with the scent of new baby powder still clinging on your clothes. The happiness that came from the visit was palpable; after all, you'd just met their newborn, a small miracle that everyone couldn't stop adoring. Chan couldn't stop smiling as you strolled down the sidewalk together, his voice light as he pondered on your visit.

"You were so adorable with him," he continued, almost teasingly but with a sensitive undertone. "The way you held him, the way you shushed him when he started to whine... It was like you were made to be a mom."

You laughed nervously, the compliment resting on your chest like a weight. He didn't notice how the mood shifted; he was still smiling, oblivious to the sudden tightening in your throat. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach, one that had been growing for a while but had never been as visible as today. His words were like a knife, a gentle reminder of something you'd always kept buried. Something you were afraid to admit, even to yourself.

Chan's voice became quieter as you did not react immediately. His fingers brushed over yours, and you stiffened, trying to push away the discomfort that felt like a cold, invisible barrier between you. "What's wrong?" he asked softly, his worry visible. "You okay?"

The question hit you harder than you expected, sending a wave of panic through your chest. You tried to ignore it and play it off, but the words spilled out before you could stop them.

"I... I don't know," you said quietly, your gaze fixated on the sidewalk. "It just makes me anxious, thinking about... all of that." You paused, unsure whether to continue, but his quiet pushed you on. "I've never actually considered having kids. I mean, I've considered it, but the thought of being bound to one person or having the duty of raising a child for the rest of my life is overwhelming." Your voice cracked at the end of the phrase, revealing the rawness of your feelings.

Chan’s steps faltered. You could feel him beside you, the air between you heavy with unspoken words. He didn’t say anything right away, but his silence felt more deafening than anything. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice softer, careful.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" His words were not accusatory, but they were sad and cut deep. He wasn't angry, but there was an evident hurt in his voice, a type of sadness you hadn't expected. "I didn't know you felt this way."

You swallowed and tried to keep your voice calm. "I wasn't sure how to say it. It's just not something I'm prepared for, Chan. The thought of it scares me. I've always been afraid of commitment. I'm terrified of the responsibilities. Of being everything to someone, of being tied down indefinitely."

You could feel his eyes pressing into you. His hand came out and softly touched your arm, but you still felt detached, as if you were miles off.

"Do you mean that?" His voice was soft and weak. "That you wouldn't want to have kids at all?"

You did not react immediately away, the question reverberating in your head. How would he react if you said yes? Will he be disappointed? Will he question everything between you? Your heart pounded in your chest as you finally nodded, though part of you despised the way it sounded. "I don't think I've ever imagined it for myself. Not in the way you seem to."

He exhaled softly, like he was letting go of something heavy. But you could tell it wasn't easy; the weight of your words had lodged someplace deep within him. "I've always thought about a future with you, you know?" He whispered it quietly, his hand slipping down to his side as if he didn't know what to do with it. "I suppose I expected you to want the same things eventually. The family, kids. Maybe I'm just being naive."

You felt your chest tighten as he spoke. It wasn't that you didn't love him; you did, more than you could ever express, but the future he was anticipating felt like one you weren't prepared for. A life that you weren't sure you wanted. "I'm sorry," you said softly, unable to meet his eyes, your voice barely above a breath. "I just... I'm not sure if I am made out for that. I'm not sure if I'm cut out to be that kind of person."

Chan fell silent, and for a long while, neither of you moved. You had no idea what to say, and the weight of his disappointment felt like an unseen hand pushing down on you. It wasn't the anger you feared it was the quiet sadness, the unspoken realization that maybe you weren’t on the same page after all.

“I guess I was hoping you’d be ready, or that we’d grow into it together,” he finally said, his voice distant, as if he were talking to himself rather than to you. “But if you’re not, I... I don’t know what that means for us.”

His words struck a chord deep inside you. You didn’t want to lose him, but you also couldn’t pretend that you felt ready for the things he seemed so certain about. You reached out, touching his arm gently, not sure if your touch would bring comfort or just make things worse. “I never meant to hurt you,” you said, your voice shaking. “I just... I’m scared, Chan. And I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to be the person you need me to be.”

His eyes met yours for a brief moment, and there was no judgment or anger. Just a quiet understanding. "I don't need you to be anyone else," he stated softly. "I just... I just need you to be honest with me." You nodded, tears welling in your eyes, and for the first time, you realized how much of yourself you'd been hiding.

The dread and doubt were not only about commitment. It was about losing yourself in the attempt of meeting someone else's expectations.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for any of this,” you admitted, your voice raw. “But I don’t want to lose you, either.”

Chan gave you a sad smile, a hint of the warmth he always showed, even in moments like this. “We don’t have to figure it all out right now,” he said gently. “But I think we owe it to ourselves to keep talking about it. No matter how hard it gets.”

You both stood there for a while, the silence wrapping around you like a blanket. It wasn’t the resolution you’d both hoped for, but in a strange way, it felt like the beginning of a deeper conversation one that you would have to continue, one step at a time.

changbin

It's a quiet evening, and everything feels soft and cozy. Changbin and you are lying in bed, wrapped up in one other, the comfort of his presence relieving the stress of the day. You're both cuddling close, tangled under the blanket, and the room is faintly lighted by the soft glow of a lamp in the corner. It's the type of intimate moment in which everything feels natural and the day's talk slips into oblivion.

He's just returned after a lengthy practice, his body still warm from the exercise, but his mind is at ease, happy to be home with you. You, on the other hand, have that familiar peace whenever you're near him, as if you could just stay in this moment forever. But then, as if his thoughts are drifting, Changbin turns to face you. His voice, which is normally loud and confident, is softer tonight, with a touch of something unspoken.

"You know, I've been thinking a lot about the future," he says, his fingers carelessly skimming through your hair. "About us."

You nod, your eyes tracing the lines of his jaw, the subtle play of light over his face. It’s easy to get lost in him, easy to imagine that everything will always be this simple, this perfect. But you can feel the tension creeping into his tone, something deeper behind his words.

“What about it?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light, though a small part of you starts to brace for something that feels important.

He exhales softly, and you can hear him shifting in bed, turning his body just slightly to face you more fully. “You know… we’ve been together for so long now. And there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Something I’ve been wondering.”

You swallow, the slight nervousness in his voice making you instantly alert. You already know where this is going, but you can’t quite prepare yourself for what’s to come.

"Why do you avoid talking about marriage and kids?" he says, his voice calm but with a softness that you rarely hear from him. "I mean... I want to share all of that with you. I want to marry you and have a large wedding with our families, members, and friends present to celebrate us. I hope to have a family with you. Maybe one girl and one boy," he continues, his words gushing out with a calm eagerness that contrasts sharply with your regular lively banter.

As he speaks, his eyes light up with optimism, and you can tell how much he wants to share this future, this dream with you. And that's when you realize how heavy everything is. He’s been picturing a future together, full of love, marriage, children, and everything that comes with it. And for a moment, you’re caught in the warmth of his vision.

But as you lie there, something tightens in your chest. You don’t share that vision. You don’t want the same things.

Your gut twists, causing your heart to skip a beat. His words, so genuine and full of love, linger in the air, and you can feel the truth swelling up inside you, a truth you've tried to ignore. You can't avoid this subject forever, no matter how much you want to.

"Changbin," you say, wobbly but resolute. "I don't want any of that."

The room becomes silent, and his hand freezes on your hair. You look up at him, and his expression has changed to one of shock, confusion, and even disbelief.

“Wait, what?” he asks, his voice catching for a moment. “You… you don’t want to get married? Or kids?”

You shake your head, trying to find the right words, the ones that will explain the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “I don’t,” you say softly. “I love you, Changbin. I do. But those things… marriage, kids… I don’t see them in my future.”

He sits up a little, his eyes now wide, searching your face as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. “Are you serious?” The words come out like a gasp, disbelief settling into his voice. “You’re telling me you don’t want any of that? After everything we’ve talked about?”

You sit up too, your chest tightening as the distance between you widens, even if only physically. His confusion, the hurt in his eyes, it makes your heart ache. You reach for him, but the words that follow are harder than you expected.

"I'm sorry," you say softly, your throat tight. "I never meant to hurt you. I genuinely love you. But I never imagined myself getting married or having children. It's not that I don't want to have a future with you, but... "I don't think I'll ever be prepared for that kind of life."

He looks at you for a long time, attempting to make sense of what you've just said. The stillness between you feels heavier than any dispute. His eyes are clouded with pain and uncertainty, and you can see reality sinking in. He's always pictured you staying by his side forever. And the future he dreams of does not appear to encompass the one you envision for yourself.

“Why?” His voice cracks, and it cuts through you, deeper than you thought possible. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner? Why let me think we were on the same page?”

“I was afraid,” you admit, your voice trembling. “Afraid of losing you. I thought maybe I could come around to the idea, maybe I could force myself to want that with you. But I can’t, Changbin. I can’t lie to you about something this big. I can’t give you the future you want when I know it’s not what I want.”

He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated and hurt, the tension radiating off him in waves. “So what does that mean for us, then? If we don’t want the same things, if we can’t even agree on something as big as marriage or kids… What does that mean for us?”

The question hangs in the air, sharp and painful. You want to say something, anything that might ease the hurt between you two, but you don’t know how. You’ve always loved him, deeply, completely. But you’re realizing that love alone can’t make you want the things he envisions.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I wish I could give you what you want. But I don’t think I can. I don’t think I’ll ever want that life.”

The silence stretches on, a cold chasm between you now, and the warmth that once filled the room feels like it’s slipping away. He doesn’t say anything right away, and the quiet becomes unbearable. The hurt in his eyes is undeniable, and you can see the weight of his dreams crashing down around him.

After a long moment, he exhales, a shaky breath escaping him. “I don’t know if I can do this if we want completely different futures,” he says, his voice low, almost broken.

“I understand,” you whisper, your heart sinking at the realization. “I’m so sorry.”

The words seem hollow, too light for the weight of the room. You've just told him that the future he envisioned with you is not the one you see. And for a moment, you both simply sit there, silently digesting the weight of everything that has happened in that conversation.

In the stillness, you understand that love doesn't always mean sharing the same dreams. And sometimes, even if you love someone wholeheartedly, it is insufficient to bridge the gap between two very different ideas of the future.

The coldness of the morning is suffocating, and you can feel it weighing heavily on your chest. Since the conversation with Changbin the night before, things have felt distant like a shadow hanging over you both, and he hasn’t said a word to you since. He’s been giving you the silent treatment, and it hurts more than you care to admit.

You wake up earlier than usual, still processing the conversation and regretting how things turned out. You go through your morning routine slowly, making breakfast, setting up the table, and preparing Changbin's lunch as usual. It feels odd, though, as if something is missing. There is no lighthearted conversation in the kitchen, no teasing or sweet kisses, and no peaceful moments where you can both linger before the day begins. When you offer him his lunch as he walks out the door, you watch as he takes it without saying anything, his eyes avoiding yours. It's as if he's a stranger and your heart sinks. "Have a good day," you say quietly, but he doesn't look up. Instead, he simply nods, his face unreadable, before slipping out the door. Your stomach churns with the sudden, overwhelming sense of loss.

-

At practice, Changbin is a shell of himself. The members immediately notice, exchanging worried glances as they watch him sit in silence, his usual bright energy completely absent. He’s quieter than ever, not offering his usual teasing or joking with the others. The playful, sarcastic remarks that he usually spews effortlessly are nowhere to be found. He’s distant, almost like he’s not even there.

It doesn’t take long for the rest of the members to gather around him once the break starts. They’re used to Changbin being the one to lift the mood, to crack jokes and keep things light. But today, he’s utterly detached. The silence in the room is thick, and it’s clear something is wrong.

“Bin, what’s going on?” Hyunjin asks, his tone soft but filled with concern. The others chime in too, eyes full of worry.

Changbin shrugs, his hand running through his hair, frustration written all over his face. He doesn’t even look up as he answers. “It’s nothing, really.”

But his voice betrays him. There’s pain in his words, and the members can sense it immediately. They press him again, refusing to let it slide. It’s rare to see him like this.

“You sure? You’re off today, man,” Felix comments, eyeing him. “You usually can’t sit still. What happened?”

Finally, Changbin’s walls begin to crack, and his voice breaks as he mutters, “She doesn’t want to get married or have kids. That’s what we talked about last night. She doesn’t see a future with me like I thought she did.” His words spill out, raw and unfiltered. The hurt is evident, but so is the confusion. “I don’t know if I can get past that. It might be a dealbreaker for me.”

The silence in the room is deafening. The members exchange uneasy glances, taking in the weight of what he just said.

“But,” Seungmin begins, his voice steady, “you’ve been with her through so much, right? And she’s stood by you, too. You love each other, don’t you?”

Changbin nods, the pain in his eyes palpable. “Of course. I love her more than anything. But... we’re not on the same page when it comes to the future.”

Jisung leans forward, his brow furrowed in thought. “But is it really worth throwing everything away? I mean, you’ve been through so much together, and you’ve always said how in love you are with her. You’ve both built something really special. Is it really about not wanting kids or getting married, or is there more to it?”

Changbin doesn't respond right away. He only stares at the ground, repeating the words in his thoughts. They're right. He's been so focused on his future vision, which includes marriage, children, and a life together, that he hasn't considered the possibility that she doesn't want the same things. But it was not all about it. He'd always imagined growing old with her, and a future without those things felt empty. Or did it?

"Are you really going to let something like that end everything?" Hyunjin contributes gently. "I know it hurts. But love isn't about forcing someone to fit into a particular mold. If you love her, it may be worth working out a way forward, even if it isn't exactly what you hoped for."

The words hit Changbin hard. The members are right, and for the first time since the conversation with you, he starts to realize how much he’s been holding onto an idealized version of the future. Maybe he needed to let go of the idea of what it should look like and focus on what they had together. Maybe there was another way forward.

When Changbin arrives home later that night, the silence between you feels more suffocating than before. The house feels colder than usual, and he can't shake the weight of what he's been carrying about all day.

When he walks in, he expects to see you with a smile and maybe a joke to break the tension, but instead he finds you curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, staring blankly at the TV. You don't even look up when he walks in. The absence of your usual greeting hits him like a punch to the stomach. This was not how things were meant to be. You weren't supposed to feel like strangers in your own home.

He stands in the doorway for a moment, the guilt gnawing at him. He knows he’s been distant, that his silence has been like a wall between you two, and it’s been tearing him apart inside. He can’t keep doing this. He needs to fix things, to bridge the gap that’s formed between you both.

Without saying anything else, he crosses the room and kneels down in front of you, pulling the blanket away gently. You look up at him, your eyes tired, filled with a sadness he hates seeing. He feels a pang in his chest as he reaches for you, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ve been an idiot. I should’ve never given you the silent treatment, especially not when you needed me to listen. I let my own hurt cloud my judgment, and I’m sorry for that.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, just let yourself melt into his embrace, the warmth of his arms providing a sense of comfort you didn’t know you needed. You feel his breath against your neck, and despite the lingering tension, you realize you don’t want to be apart from him either.

“I was so scared, Changbin,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I love you, but I didn’t know how to say that I wasn’t ready for the future you imagined. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know,” he replies softly, tightening his hold on you. “I was scared too. I thought… I thought I needed everything to be exactly how I imagined. But I don’t. I just need you. I love you, and that’s enough. Whatever we choose, whatever that looks like… I want it with you.”

You draw back slightly, catching his gaze, and you can see the sincerity in them. The tension in your chest relaxes slightly, but you know that nothing is magically fixed. There's still a lot to work out, a lot of talking to be done, but this moment, this apology, is a positive beginning.

And for the first time in the day, you feel the warmth between you two return, a reminder that love isn't about having everything sorted out. It is about being willing to try, learn, and meet each other halfway.

HAN

The evening at Jisung’s parents’ house had started off so well. The warm scent of sizzling barbecue wafted through the air, mingling with the sounds of laughter as you sat around the table, enjoying the food and easy conversation. Jisung’s parents were warm and inviting, and his older brother had just arrived with his toddler daughter, a little girl with bright eyes and an infectious laugh.

The toddler immediately took a liking to you, toddling over with a grin that could melt anyone’s heart. You couldn’t help but smile as she clung to your legs, tugging on your arm to be picked up. She had so much energy, so much sweetness, and it was impossible not to feel a little soft as she snuggled against you, pressing her cheek to yours.

Jisung watched with a soft chuckle, his eyes warm as he watched you with his niece. His mom, sitting across the table, couldn’t hold back her excitement. “Look at you!” she exclaimed, beaming. “You’re a natural with her! You look so comfortable holding a little one. Jisung, I can definitely see you two having kids of your own someday.”

Jisung laughed along with her, clearly enjoying the moment, but you felt a sudden tension tighten in your chest. You smiled at his mom, trying to keep it light, but you felt a knot forming in your stomach. This wasn’t a conversation you were prepared for, not now, not here.

Before you could react, his mom added, “You should think about it soon, you know. The clock is ticking. It would be so lovely to see you both start a family. When are you planning on getting married and having kids of your own?”

The words felt like a punch to the gut, so casual, so matter-of-fact. You felt yourself freeze, your hand instinctively tightening around the little girl in your arms, who was still smiling and oblivious to the change in your mood. You forced yourself to smile, but it felt thin, fragile, like a mask you were desperately trying to hold in place.

Jisung didn’t notice the shift at first. He looked at you, then back at his mom with a playful grin. “Soon, I guess,” he said with a shrug, his voice light, almost too light. “We’ve been talking about it. Right?”

You nodded, trying to sound casual. “Yeah, yeah, soon.”

But something didn't feel right. The words felt hurried, too easy, and... uncharacteristic of you. You could feel your heart beating and your chest constricting as his mother went on about how adorable it would be to see you both with children. Meanwhile, Jisung was still smiling, obviously happy with the thought. But you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, and you hadn't told him yet. You couldn't breathe through this conversation.

Excusing yourself silently, you stood up quickly and returned the toddler to her seat with a little smile. "I'll just—uh, I'll be right back," you murmured, wanting time to gather yourself. You didn't wait for anyone to say anything before heading inside and into the nearest bathroom.

Jisung’s voice trailed behind you, soft but insistent. “Wait, are you okay?”

You closed the bathroom door behind you, trying to calm your racing thoughts. You leaned against the sink, closing your eyes for a moment, the world spinning slightly. You could hear Jisung’s footsteps approach outside the door before it opened quietly.

“I know something’s wrong,” he said, his voice low, tentative. “What is it?”

You swallowed hard, biting your lip. Your stomach churned as the words you had been avoiding for so long bubbled to the surface. You turned to face him, your chest tight with the weight of your emotions. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I just... I don’t know. I don’t think I’m ready for this. Marriage. Kids. It’s just not something I’ve really thought about, not in the way you do. It’s not that I don’t love you, Jisung, but...” You trailed off, unable to fully articulate the swirl of anxiety and fear that had settled in your gut.

Jisung’s face shifted, confusion mixing with concern. “What do you mean? What’s going on? You seemed fine earlier.”

You exhaled sharply, running your hands through your hair. “Marriage and kids... they require sacrifices. And I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I like my life the way it is. I like my freedom, my autonomy. I don’t want to feel like I’m constantly tied to one person or one responsibility. I’m scared that it’ll limit my space, my choices, my me time. I just... I don’t know if I’m the type of person who can handle all that, all at once.”

Jisung stood still for a moment, his eyes searching yours, his expression soft but serious. “So, you’re saying you don’t want kids? Or that you don’t want to get married?”

You took a shaky breath. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it that way before. I guess... I’ve just always been scared of what comes with those things. It’s not just about the good stuff, it’s the responsibility, the change, the giving up parts of yourself, the constant giving. It feels like a lot, Jisung. Like too much.”

His expression shifted again, not in anger, but in a kind of quiet sadness. He stepped closer, though you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him fully, your gaze fixed on the floor. “I understand being scared,” he said quietly, his voice low. “But I never thought you felt this way. I thought we were on the same page about... well, about our future.”

You shook your head, biting your lip. “I didn’t want to disappoint you,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t know how to say it. I don’t want to disappoint you. I just... I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of future. At least, not now. And maybe not ever.”

Jisung stayed silent for a while. The silence was thick, and you could feel his presence beside you, a reassuring warmth that made the space between you seem even greater. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but with a hint of hurt.

"I don't want to push you into something you're not ready for," he added, his hand tentatively brushing over yours, as if he didn't know where you stood anymore. "But I had always pictured us together, you know? In the future. I don't want to lose that dream, but I also don't want to force you to pursue it. If you're not ready, I can't force you to be."

You squeezed his hand, a lump in your throat. “I don’t want to lose you either,” you said, voice thick. “But I need time, Jisung. I need time to figure this out. I need to understand myself before I can think about a future like that.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes distant. “Okay. I’ll give you time. But I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this. Whatever you decide... I’m here. I just need you to be honest with me, and we’ll figure it out.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, looking up at him, trying to smile through the heaviness in your chest. “Thank you. I promise I’ll try to figure it out. But I need to do it on my own time. Please don’t rush me.”

Jisung squeezed your hand back, his expression softening. “I won’t. But we’ll talk more, okay? We’ll keep talking.”

You nodded, trying to calm your breathing. This wasn't an easy conversation, and it wasn't an easy feeling, but having him standing there, allowing you space to breathe and think, made you feel less lost. Maybe things weren't clear right now, but you knew you could work them out one step at a time.

//

masterlist.

[isaisliterallyhim]

"what the hell were we? tell me weren't just friends!"

ft. michael kaiser . asshole! kaiser . ooc! kaiser ? . fem! reader . reader going thru a bum situationship . kaiser doesnt help lol . toxic fwb situation . breeding ? . seeeex . unreliable narrator . smut . smut after the cut bware!

synopsis: being extremely pissed off with this one guy you're talking with — you complained to a close friend of yours, kaiser. pushing your luck with the relationship you two had, you asked him to come over. y'know maybe for comfort or something, right? the night for sure took a shift in direction. have you forgotten? you n kaiser had a friends with benefits complex.

wc: 1.3k

"uuugh, this guys so confusing!" you whined. kaiser listened carefully as you continued to whine on call. "does he like me or is he just tryna get pussy? what the fuuuuck!" you continued to complain.

he smirked, "seems like he's a hassle." he was shut up immediately as you yelled, "because he is one!" calming down, you asked sweetly. "mihyaa.. can you come over?" how could he say no?

you were wearing nothing but his t-shirt. kneeling in front of him, he took out his member. fuck you forget how big this guy is. the pretty rosewood tip was leaking with precum.

you pressed your lips onto his tip, placing a small kiss. licking your lips and savouring the slightly sweet and salty taste. forming your lips into an "o" you got down at it. your warm and moist mouth sucked this guy offff.

"s-scheiße..[name] ouuh, god." kaiser moaned. "your mouth feels so good.." he gripped you by the hair and forced you to swallow him a little deeper. your nose grazed slightly against his pubes. balls deep. you gagged a little. then, you bobbed your head as you kept sucking. and sucking. aaand more sucking.

his grip on your hair got tighter. he didn't even give you a chance to react as he finished in your mouth. his crazy strength kept your mouth on his cock. it hurt your knees. you also didn't want to swallow but this guy GAVE YOU NO CHOICE. you swallowed. slowly, he let go of your hair. there was an erotic pop as you gently peeled your lips off his member.

"mihya.!" you frowned. kaiser chuckled at your expression. those gorgeous lips formed into a frown as a bit of his cum was somewhat dripping from your mouth despite you swallowing. "sorry, meine liebe. not my fault your mouth feels extraordinary," he smiles. fuck. he knew how to use his words.

"i dunno why you're so upset though, [name]," the emperor smirked. he pulled you by the arm, to the position in which you're now standing. he got on his knees, (the emperor on his knees?! girl you got him over you! even if ur j fwb jesus!!) to face the level of your pussy. he traced his finger along the wet spot of your panties. a little squelch could be heard.

" 'cause she certainly not mad," he smiled in that dumbass smug way again. god you wanted to slap his stupidly attractive face. you were hit immediately with a flushed feeling. "s-shut the hell up!" you stammered. "jus' natural after i do something intimate. not that you have a toll on me or something," you muttered.

in one swift movement, he pushed you onto the bed. you laid on your back as he towered over you. your panties were slipped to the side as he slipped into you. you let out a high-pitched yelp. "y-yer so shallow, mihya..!" you moaned out. all so suddenly, this fucking guy just put it in? no foreplay no nothing? there's no way you were THAT wet.. okay to be fair he did get it in without hurting so...

as he kept thrusting, the shirt slowly rode up. the wet plapping sound of your bodies colliding was beginning to drive you crazy. "haa, calling me shallow but i'm just gettin' deeper.." kaiser groaned out. your walls were clenching onto his shaft for dear damn life.

you bit your lower lip til it bled. fuck the sensation. was crazy. "i fuckin' haaaate! you-!" you moaned out, voice going a few pitches higher as he hit that gummy spot within you. you grit your teeth as your back arched. shit. that arch was craaazy. "y-you, ooh! keep leadin' me on!" you gasped out. "ya different from those other guys or you jus' the same!?" you continued. (how do you eve have the energy to say that...?) "cause you keep fuckin' leading me into yer room. how's that my fault?" the prodigy grunted, his accent running through. you kept moaning and creaming over his dick. it was getting hard for him to not cum in you right there n then. your walls were sucking him in. he could cry. your nails began scratching and digging into his skin. "mihyaaa!" you cried as you came. the ecstasy filling your veins as he thrusted in you a few more times for you to ride your high. "how many times now?" his accent a lil' rougher than before. "forgot.." you muttered out a reply, catching your breath. you had that fucked out facial expression. seeing your expression, his once slightly limp cock was hard again. this guy is not softening up anytime soon..

prone-bone, doggy, mating press, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl. seashell, valedictorian, lotus position. everything was going on. while you were riding him, he made you do all the work. "tell me, meine liebe." he began. "confess to me, what's the worst?"

you fucking yourself dumb on his maaassive cock, you couldn't reply. the hell? he thinks you can form an answer after all that?! his annoying ahh voice chuckled, "that bad? your eyes are rollin' to the back of your head. can you formulate a single word? dumb dumb girl. why do ya think yer always gettin' played?" kaiser smirked. despite teasing or just making fun of you, there was a twinge of emotion. jealousy was it? envy..? anger..? who cared. you were getting your BRAINS fucked out man. "you're so smart... what happened now hm?" he sighed contently, switching positions as he kept thrusting. the gloss in your eyes matched the gloss on your lips.

"mihya- michael fuucking kaiser-" you were able to scream out. "finish in me plea- please..!" you sobbed. your eyes widened as he shut you the hell up with a passionate kiss.

tears were pooling. hands intertwining. ew. it was kinda gross. you couldn't breathe at all. your lips parted, giving his tongue an invitation to slide in. kaiser was actually losing his shit at this point. wild? this guy was going feral. genuinely feral.

the slight aftertaste of his semen (salty ahh) lingering in your mouth... the flavour of your mouth n his semen mixed drove him once again, insane. could there be a girl more perfect than you? nah. kaiser's ego was too big to admit that.

one more sloppy thrust and he relaxed his body. he came in you. your legs loosened around his waist as you came undone as well. kaiser stayed a little longer, not letting a single ounce of his seed drip out of you.

your soaked n warm cunt took all of that semen (oh yea girl!) he pulled out, running his hand thru his rigid ahh hair (no srsly wtf is that rattail hair oh gawd..) you were still dazed. blinking a few times you got up.

"mihya?! you're jus' gonna leave like that?!" you exclaimed as you sat up. he was already putting on his clothes. "mhm. i am, schatz." he replied.

"wait- but t-that's unfair!" you frowned. he didn't bat a single eye or did he dare to look in your direction. "what the hell are we?! please don't tell me we're just friends!" you sobbed. you were an emotional outbreak.

despite being the arrogant man he is, kaiser felt a pang of hurt. for himself and you. if he told you the truth on how he felt, he'd injure his fat ego. but if he didn't, he'd hurt you. kaiser's ego was very dear to him. it's what kept him alive to this point.

"come to my game tomorrow if you wanna see me, [name]." he sighed, buckling his pants. "you dick! not even aftercare!? fuck you kaiser!" you whined out. shit. you knew he hated being called by his last name. you were kinda annoying. did he care? na, not really he was all for it.

kaiser knew you'd come to his game either way. he just wanted to taunt you. before leaving, he uttered words you never expected to hear. "[name], y'know you're my dream girl right?"

michael kaiser damaged his ego that night. all he ever wanted to was to be able to express his affection for you. if only you knew how heavenly perfect you were in his eyes.

a/n: can u tell i lost motivation and the plot half way lol... exams punched the hell out of me oh fawk why am i still recovering.. once again i suck at writing smut, like i suck in general but smut is not my cup of tea.. (i say as i continue writing HAHA) hopefully ygs enjoyed T_T this unironically made me so mad ? i got so lost while writing so er.. if its actually unreadable and confusing im sorry. i tried ok 😓once again, english isn't my first language n i don't have any prior experience... kaiser's so hot tho if he was my situationshup id get on my knees oh fawkkk... 0 to no proof reading btw this has been stuck in my drafts since the starf of conception! work was heavily based off of church.. and friends ig. also writing this sparked me how bad my love ife is, heavens... ya this is all yap hope ygs devoured this (isagi ref?!) im flopping omg...

[luvleyshif4]

A LITTLE KISS WONT RUIN OUR FRIENDSHIP RIGHT?

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summery~ I think this reel sums up the whole thing

Content~ friend group including Kelce and Topper, reader and Rafe (yikes) livestreaming on YouTube, Reader is allegedly a known influencer, eating, semi SMAU, kissing, neck grabbing, shy Rafe, flustered reader, yelling (in a good way) Topper and Kelce being chaotic

Author’s Note~ Okay, so I KNOW I SAID I was like definitely gonna go MIA, I literally just said that two days ago, but I couldn’t help myself😝😝. I came across this reel, and it was SO insane, like you guys NEED to see the video, it made me act up 🤯. I had to write this drabble, like I couldn’t just let it slide. But fr I’m going MIA after this, I swear, like I’m promising myself that 🙃. PLS LEMME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS ON HOW I WROTE IT!!!

The familiar glow of your phone’s screen illuminated the car as you set it up on the dashboard, adjusting it just enough so that everyone could be seen. The chat on your livestream was already blowing up, the comments flooding in as they always did when you went live with your friends.

The four of you were in your usual spots: you in the passenger seat, Rafe in the driver’s seat, and Topper and Kelce lounging in the back. It was late, but that only added to the chaotic energy that always fueled these live sessions.

“Alright, we’re live,” you said, glancing at the screen. “What’s up, guys! Welcome back to another livestream. You already know the drill—Kelce..” you say turning the camera to him.

“Hi, internet,” Kelce said through a mouthful of fries, holding the carton up like it was a trophy.

“Kelce, at least try to look alive, man.” Topper teased, nudging him with his elbow.

“Don’t make me expose you, bro,” Kelce shot back, earning a laugh from all of you.

You turned the camera toward Rafe, who was leaning back in his seat, one hand casually draped over the steering wheel. He gave a small wave, his smirk still in place.

“And here we have Rafe, who, as usual, looks like he doesn’t want to be here,” you teased.

“Maybe I don’t,” he shot back, but the sparkle in his blue eyes said otherwise.

You chuckle as you look towards Kelce and topper. “Kelce,” you groaned, pretending to grab the fries from him. “Do you have to eat on live every time?”

“It’s my brand,” he retorted, leaning back smugly.

“What are we even doing tonight?” you asked.

You looked around the car for suggestions, your brows raised expectantly. “Anyone?”

Kelce suddenly perked up and slapped Topper’s arm. “We should do ASMR. I mean, we’re already eating, right?”

The chat immediately erupted with laughing emojis, and you read out a few: “ASMR? Oh my god, someone said ‘Kelce, the ASMR king.’”

Rafe groaned, leaning back in his seat. “Oh my god, no. Please, no.”

The comments exploded with laughter, hearts, and emojis, and you couldn’t help but laugh along.

“Why not, Rafe? You’ve got the perfect ASMR voice,” you teased.

Rafe gave you a side-eye, lips twitching into a smirk. “I’d rather eat glass.”

“HEY that’s very ASMR-friendly,” you shot back, earning laughs from Kelce and Topper.

Kelce dramatically leaned into the camera, chewing obnoxiously. “Fine, I’ll carry the ASMR segment. You’re welcome, internet.”

“See? This is quality content. I’m practically carrying this livestream.” He said basically invading everyone’s personal space.

“Carrying it straight to cringe-ville,” Topper retorted, shaking his head and trying to push Kelce back.

You reached forward and muted Kelce with an exaggerated press of your hand in the air. “Alright, ASMR is off the table. Moving on. What else do we have?”

“Drama,” someone commented, and you read it aloud, laughing. “Drama? Oh, don’t worry. There’s always drama in this car.”

Rafe glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a smirk playing on his lips. “Yeah, and it’s usually your fault.”

Your jaw dropped as the chat flooded with laughing emojis. “Me? You’re the most dramatic one here, Rafe!”

“Debatable,” Kelce chimed in, leaning back smugly.

The stream went on as usual—chaotic, hilarious, and full of playful banter. But tonight, something felt different. Your focus kept drifting to Rafe, the way his fingers drummed against the steering wheel or how his gaze would flick to you whenever you said something. You couldn’t deny the tension that had been building between you two lately, but you weren’t sure if it was all in your head.

The chat, of course, was relentless.

“Rafe looks at her like she hung the moon.”

“The tension is INSANE.”

“Just kiss already!”

You shook your head, laughing nervously.

“Hey, Rafe,” you said, a sly smile creeping onto your lips. “Do you remember this?”

Before he could answer, you reached for his right hand, guiding it to your neck. His brows furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let his hand settle there, his thumb brushing your skin lightly.

Topper and Kelce immediately exploded in the backseat.

“OH MY GOD, THEY’RE DOING IT AGAIN!” Kelce shouted, shaking Topper’s shoulder dramatically.

“They’re gonna fake us out, aren’t they?” Topper groaned, though he was grinning ear to ear.

The chat was a flurry of all caps, hearts, and exclamation points. Everyone was expecting another playful tease.

The chat was going insane, hearts and all-caps messages flooding the screen.

But this time, it wasn’t a tease.

Rafe didn’t pull back. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath hitching audibly just before his lips met yours. It was soft, tentative at first, but as you responded, his grip on your neck tightened slightly, pulling you closer.

The world seemed to blur, the only thing grounding you being the feel of his lips on yours and the warmth of his hand against your skin.

“NO WAY,” Kelce screamed from the backseat.

“They ACTUALLY DID IT!” Topper yelled, slapping Kelce repeatedly in disbelief.

The chat exploded.

“I TOLD YOU!!!”

“THIS IS NOT A DRILL.”

“THE SOUND HE MADE BEFORE THE KISS IM DYING—”

When you and Rafe finally pulled apart, the reality of what just happened hit you like a wave. Your face burned as you buried it in your arm, letting out a loud, dramatic yell.

Rafe’s face wasn’t much better. His cheeks were flushed, and he turned to look out the window, the faintest of smiles tugging at his lips. He stayed quiet, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other remained on the back of your neck.

Kelce and Topper, meanwhile, were absolutely losing it in the backseat.

“THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE,” Topper declared, throwing his hands up.

“PEAK CONTENT. PEAK CONTENT!” Kelce yelled, leaning forward to practically scream at the camera.

Topper nodded furiously. “The shippers are gonna lose their minds. This is legendary.”

The chat was moving too fast to read, but you could still catch glimpses of comments like “HIS FACE AFTER THE KISS AHHH” and “I KNEW IT! THEY LIKE EACH OTHER!”

You peeked out from behind your arm, still feeling the heat in your cheeks. “Okay, um, I think we’re done here.”

“DONE?” Kelce shouted. “YOU CAN’T JUST END THE STREAM AFTER THAT!”

“Yeah, we need a recap, a breakdown, an—” Topper started, but you reached forward and hit the end stream button before he could finish.

As soon as the screen went dark, the car was filled with silence. Well, except for the sound of Kelce and Topper losing their minds.

You stayed where you were, your hand still on Rafe’s arm, your head spinning. His thumb grazed your skin one last time before he let go, settling his hand back on the wheel.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low, his gaze still out the window. “I remember that.”

And that was it. No teasing, Just a quiet confirmation that left your heart racing all over again.

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 36/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap, Angst

Word Count: 8075

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

Jensen’s panic quickly shifted to anger, sharp and hot as it coursed through him. He stared at the photo again, his jaw tightening. He recognized the moment immediately—it had been just before Christmas, during one of the most exhausting days he’d had with the kids and Danneel. He’d wanted nothing more than a break, a few quiet moments to himself, and the hot tub had seemed like the perfect escape.

He remembered it vividly: he��d been leaning back, arms stretched out on the edge, eyes closed, a few drinks already in his system. The steam rising around him had been a small comfort, a rare moment of peace in a storm of tension. And then Danneel had appeared, catching him off guard as she joined him—completely naked.

“What the fuck are you doing, Danneel?”, he’d barked, sitting up straight as she slid into the water.

“I just want to talk”, she’d said smoothly, her tone too calm, too practiced. She’d waded closer, her movements deliberate, and before he could react, she’d climbed onto his lap.

The memory made his blood boil. He’d pushed her away immediately, his voice sharp and full of disbelief. “Get off me! What the fuck is wrong with you?”,

But none of that was in the photo. Whoever had taken it—probably Danneel herself—had captured only the moment before, when she was laughing, leaning against him, making it look far more intimate than it had been. The scratch on his bicep from hanging the Christmas picture was like a mocking timestamp, proof of how recent the photo was.

“She planned this”, Jensen muttered to himself, his anger growing with each passing second. “She fucking planned it”.

He clenched his phone tightly, his mind racing. This was exactly the kind of manipulation Danneel was capable of—trying to undermine his relationship with you, to keep him tethered to her for appearances, or simply out of spite. It was infuriating, and it made him feel sick knowing that you’d been hurt because of it.

Jensen paced the room, running a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out what to do. He needed to fix this. He needed to talk to you, to explain everything. But first, he had to make sure this didn’t happen again.

He grabbed his phone and called Danneel. She answered after a few rings, her voice casual, as if she hadn’t just sent a wrecking ball into his life.

“Jensen”, she greeted, her tone almost sweet. “What’s up?”.

“You know exactly what’s up”, he snapped, his voice low and angry. “That photo. The one you sent to her. The fuck are you trying to do?”.

There was a pause, then a feigned laugh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about”.

“Don’t play games with me, Danneel”, he said, his tone sharp. “You set me up. You took that picture knowing exactly how it would look, and then you sent it to her to mess with us. Why?”.

Jensen’s voice was rising, raw and filled with fury. “How the hell did you even get her fucking number?”, he demanded, pacing back and forth, the tension radiating off him in waves. His hand tightened around his phone as though he could physically shake the truth out of her.

Danneel’s pause on the other end of the line was brief but telling. “It wasn’t hard”, she said casually, her tone dripping with smug satisfaction. “You know, Jensen. Your phone always laying around”.

Jensen let out a sharp, bitter laugh, his disbelief bubbling over. “You signed the fucking papers, Danneel! It’s already over. Why the fuck would you try to destroy that for me? Why can’t you just let me be happy?”.

Her voice was calm, too calm, and it only made him angrier. “Because, Jensen, you don’t just get to walk away like this never happened. You don’t get to move on and play house with someone else while everything we built gets left in the dust”.

“Everything we built?”, Jensen snapped, his voice nearly breaking. “You mean the marriage you’ve been emotionally checked out of for years? The marriage that was dead long before I met her? Don’t give me that bullshit, Danneel”.

His words hit a nerve, and her tone turned icy. “Watch yourself, Jensen. I still have plenty of things I could say. Things that could make your little fairy tale crumble”.

Jensen stopped pacing, his body rigid as he pressed the phone closer to his ear. “You think threatening me is going to change anything?”, he growled. “You’re only proving why I had to leave in the first place. I’m done playing these games, Danneel. Done”.

She didn’t respond right away, but he could almost hear her smirk through the silence. “If you were really done, Jensen, you wouldn’t be calling me now, would you?”.

His grip on the phone tightened. “The only reason I’m calling is because you crossed a line. You had no right to send her that picture. None”.

“And yet”, Danneel said smoothly, “it seems to have gotten your attention. Funny how that works”.

Jensen clenched his jaw, the anger simmering in him reaching a boiling point. “You think this is a fucking game, don’t you?”, he said, his voice deadly quiet now. “Well, congratulations. You won this round. But this stops here. Do you hear me? I won’t let you come between us”.

Danneel’s laughter came through the phone, low and cold, the sound sending a fresh wave of frustration through Jensen. “Looks like it’s already working”, she mused, her voice tinged with triumph. “You’re losing your temper, Jensen. I don’t think I’ve heard you this rattled in years”.

He clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around the phone. “You think this is funny? You’re playing with people’s lives, Danneel. Real people. This isn’t just some power move to make you feel better”.

She ignored his words entirely, her tone dripping with mock concern. “So, how bad was it? Did she already dump you? You don’t call me like this unless you’re desperate. Guess I hit a nerve”.

Jensen’s chest tightened at her question, his mind flashing to you. The guilt was suffocating, but he wasn’t about to give Danneel the satisfaction of knowing she’d hit her mark.

“You’re unbelievable”, he said, his voice low and dangerous. “This isn’t about me. This isn’t about her. It’s about you not knowing when to let go. You signed the papers, Danneel. What the hell do you even want from me?”.

“Maybe I just wanted to remind you who you’re dealing with”, she said smoothly. “You don’t get to rewrite history, Jensen. I was there first, and I’ll always be part of your story, whether you like it or not”.

Jensen let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head even though she couldn’t see him. “You really don’t get it, do you? Being ‘first’ doesn’t mean a damn thing when you treat someone like they’re last. Whatever hold you think you have on me, it’s gone. And if you ever try something like this again, you’ll regret it. Trust me”.

Danneel’s silence stretched for a moment, her smirk almost audible when she finally spoke again. “We’ll see about that”, she said simply, her tone calm and calculating.

Jensen ended the call without another word, throwing his phone onto the couch as he dragged a hand through his hair. His chest felt tight, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on him.

The sun was already high in the sky by the time you stirred awake, your body feeling heavy from a restless night. As you rubbed your eyes and reached for your phone, the missed calls and messages from Jensen were the first thing you noticed. Your chest tightened as you scrolled through, rereading his words:

“This isn’t what it looks like. Please, call me as soon as you wake up. I swear, there’s nothing between us. I love you. I’ll explain everything”.

Despite his reassurances, doubt gnawed at the edges of your mind. How could he explain a picture like that? No matter how much you trusted him, seeing him and Danneel together—naked in a hot tub, no less—felt like a punch to the gut. You needed to hear his voice, needed him to tell you this was some cruel misunderstanding.

You quickly dialed his number, the ringing in your ear feeling like a countdown to answers you weren’t sure you were ready for. But instead of Jensen’s familiar voice, you were met with his voicemail. You tried again, your anxiety climbing higher with each unanswered call.

By the third attempt, you sat back on the couch, your phone still clutched in your hand. Jensen wasn’t picking up, and the hollow ache in your chest grew stronger. Little did you know, he had finally succumbed to the exhaustion that had been dragging at him, having stayed up for hours after his night shoot, waiting for your call. His phone was sitting untouched on the nightstand beside him as he slept deeply.

You stared at your phone, debating whether to leave a message. The weight of your emotions made it hard to think clearly. A part of you wanted to lash out, to demand answers, but another part of you just wanted to cry. Instead, you put the phone down, wrapping your arms around your knees as you tried to steady your breathing.

The room felt too quiet, the silence amplifying every doubt and fear in your mind. Jensen’s reassurances in his message had sounded so genuine, but the image of him and Danneel wouldn’t leave your mind. You hated feeling like this—unsure, insecure, questioning the foundation of a relationship that had always felt so solid.

You curled up on the couch, pulling the blanket over you as you tried to gather your thoughts. You knew you needed to talk to him, but the uncertainty of what you’d hear when you finally connected weighed heavily on you.

The day felt like an endless tug-of-war, each missed connection with Jensen adding to the gnawing anxiety in your chest. Every time he called, you missed it—whether you were in the shower, in the bathroom, or distracted with mundane tasks. Each time you tried to call him back, he was on set, his phone tucked away as he filmed.

It was frustrating, the space between you growing wider with every missed opportunity to connect. But what truly broke you was the message from the unknown number—one that cut through your fragile resolve like a knife:

“You think he’s faithful to you when he wasn’t with me? Don’t fool yourself. Stop being a stupid little girl”.

The words stared back at you from the screen, venomous and cruel. Your stomach twisted, and your hands trembled as you reread the message. It was the same number that had sent the photo, and while you didn’t know who it belonged to, the implication was clear: someone wanted to hurt you. And worse, a part of you couldn’t ignore the nagging fear that it might be true.

The nausea returned with a vengeance, twisting your stomach into knots as the cruel message replayed in your mind. No matter how hard you tried to push it away, it lingered, poisoning your thoughts with doubt and insecurity. By the evening, you found yourself hunched over the toilet, your body trembling as you emptied your stomach yet again. The violent retching left you gasping for breath, your hands clutching the cool porcelain for support.

Tears streamed down your face, a mix of physical exhaustion and emotional turmoil. You hated how deeply it affected you, hated how a few words from an anonymous number could unravel your sense of security. The image of the photo—the hot tub, the laughter, the closeness—was seared into your mind, feeding your worst fears.

By the time the sickness subsided, you were shaking, your body weak and your mind heavy with despair. You leaned back against the bathroom wall, your knees pulled to your chest as you tried to steady your breathing. The house felt too quiet, too empty, amplifying the ache in your chest.

Your phone buzzed from the counter, the sound startling in the silence. You hesitated, reaching for it with trembling hands. The screen lit up with Jensen’s name, and your heart skipped a beat. He was trying again.

You stared at it for a moment, torn between answering and letting it go to voicemail. Eventually, you pressed the green button, your voice hoarse as you whispered, “Yeah?”.

“Baby”, Jensen’s voice came through, filled with relief and urgency. “Finally. I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Are you okay?”.

The sound of his voice sent a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, and your throat tightened. “No”, you admitted, your voice breaking. “I’m not okay, Jensen. I don’t know how to be okay right now”.

His sigh was heavy, his frustration with himself clear.

"I swear, that picture isn’t real”, Jensen said urgently, his voice tinged with panic. “Well, I mean—it is, but it’s not what it looks like. It’s not what you think, baby. You have to believe me”.

You closed your eyes tightly, tears slipping down your cheeks as you shook your head even though he couldn’t see you. “Jensen, I don’t even know what to believe anymore”, you sobbed, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “It hurts. It hurts so much”.

The sound of your crying broke something in him, and his voice softened, though the desperation was still there. “Don’t say that”, he murmured. “Please don’t say that. I love you. I love you so much, and I would never hurt you like this—not on purpose”.

Your grip on the phone tightened as another wave of tears overcame you. “Then why does it feel like you did?”, you choked out, the pain in your chest almost unbearable. “Why do I feel like I’m just… some stupid little girl, like that message said?”.

Jensen let out a string of curses under his breath, his frustration clear. “That message? That’s not me. That’s not us. That’s Danneel trying to mess with your head. She sent that picture, and I know she sent that message too. She’s trying to ruin what we have because she’s bitter, but it’s not true, baby. None of it is true”.

His words were rushed, almost frantic, and you could hear how much this was tearing him apart. But your mind was a storm of doubt, the image of that photo and the cruel words from the message replaying over and over.

“Then why were you even in that situation?”, you demanded, your voice shaky but laced with a flicker of anger. “Why did it happen in the first place? Do you know what it’s like, sitting here, alone, missing you, and then seeing that? Do you?”.

Jensen’s silence was deafening, and for a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then his voice came through, raw and filled with regret. “No, I don’t”, he admitted quietly. “I don’t know what it’s like. But I know that I messed up. I let myself get caught in her bullshit, and it’s hurting you, and I hate it. I hate myself for it”.

Your sobs quieted slightly, your heart aching at the pain in his voice. “Jensen…”, you whispered, unsure of what to say.

“I’m coming home”, he said firmly, cutting you off. “I’ll get on the next flight, and I’ll explain everything to you in person. I need you to see my face when I tell you the truth, baby. Please let me come home and fix this”.

Your heart was racing, torn between the desire to believe Jensen and the lingering doubt clawing at your mind. Just as you were about to respond, you heard a voice in the background, faint but clear enough to interrupt the moment.

“Jensen!”, It was Antony, one of his co-stars. “They need you on set. Now”.

Jensen cursed under his breath, his frustration palpable even through the phone. “Shit”, he muttered, his voice strained. “Baby, I don’t want to hang up, but they’re calling me. I—”.

You cut him off, your voice raw and unsteady. “Go. Just go, Jensen. Do your job”.

He hesitated, clearly torn. “I don’t want to leave you like this”.

“You don’t have a choice, do you?”, you said bitterly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You immediately regretted the sharpness in your tone but didn’t correct yourself. “Just… do what you have to do”.

“Baby, please”, he pleaded, his voice softening. “Don’t let this fester. I’ll call you back as soon as I’m done. Or better yet, I’ll get on a plane tonight. I swear”.

The line went quiet for a moment as he waited for your response, but all you could manage was a quiet, “Okay”.

“I love you”, he said, the words carrying an almost desperate sincerity.

But you couldn’t say it back, not right now. The silence stretched, and before he could push further, Antony called his name again, more insistent this time.

“I have to go”, Jensen said reluctantly. “Please, just… hold on for me”.

You didn’t respond, and after a beat, the line went dead. The sound of the call ending left an emptiness that felt even heavier than before. You stared at your phone, the quiet around you amplifying every ache in your chest.

For the rest of the day, you felt trapped in limbo, unable to focus on anything. Every time your phone buzzed, your heart jumped, only to sink again when it wasn’t Jensen. The mix of anger, sadness, and doubt churned in you, making it impossible to find peace.

You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to. But the picture, the message—it was too much. And now, with him gone again, all you could do was wait.

The next morning, the nausea clung to you like a persistent shadow, leaving you drained and barely able to move. Each step to the bathroom felt like a marathon, and the cycle of weakness, tiredness, and hurt seemed unending. Your emotions were already raw, and the physical toll only made everything feel heavier.

Every moment, you expected to hear the door open, to see Jensen standing there with an apology and an explanation. But the house remained quiet, save for the occasional hum of your phone vibrating with notifications that weren’t from him.

When you finally managed to drag yourself back to bed, curling up under the covers in a futile attempt to find comfort, your phone buzzed again. It was from Jensen, and the brief flicker of hope in your chest vanished as you opened the message:

“I’ve tried everything, but I can’t come. They need me in Toronto for two more weeks. I’ll call you tonight—I promise”.

The words blurred in your vision as tears welled up again. Two more weeks. It felt like a lifetime, especially after the emotional storm of the past few days. The hurt twisted in your chest, mingling with a sense of defeat. He wasn’t coming, and the hollow ache of his absence felt unbearable.

You threw your phone onto the bedside table, burying your face into the pillow as your body shook with silent sobs. His promise to call that night was little solace. The distance between you wasn’t just physical anymore—it felt emotional, a canyon growing wider with every unanswered question and missed reassurance.

Hours passed in a haze, the nausea keeping you pinned to the bed as the weight of everything pressed down on you. The day dragged on endlessly, the hours punctuated only by your occasional trips to the bathroom. Each time you returned to bed, the ache in your chest seemed heavier.

When night fell, you stared at your phone, waiting for it to ring. You wanted answers, explanations, anything that could ease the turmoil inside you. But as the minutes stretched into hours, the phone remained silent.

You were too tired to cry anymore. Curling up under the covers, you closed your eyes, your heart heavy as sleep finally claimed you, though it offered no escape from the pain.

Even though Jensen rarely left voice messages, you woke up around midnight to see a notification: a voicemail from him. Your heart raced as you played it, his familiar, exhausted voice filling the quiet room.

“Hey, baby”, he began, his tone heavy with fatigue. “I’m so sorry, but things are absolutely crazy here on set. We’ve had delays all day, and I can’t call tonight. I know you’re upset with me, and I promise we’ll talk soon. I just need you to hang on a little longer. I love you”.

It was the kind of message that would’ve reassured you once—but not now. Not after the past few days of being pushed aside, ignored, and left in the dark. First, the lack of calls or texts. Then the picture and message that shattered your trust. And now, this—another excuse, another delay.

Your emotions surged, the hurt and frustration boiling over into something you could no longer suppress. Gripping your phone tightly, you opened your messages and typed out the words before you could second-guess yourself:

“It’s alright, Jensen. Maybe a little break is what we need right now. See you in two weeks”.

Your thumb hovered over the send button for a moment, doubt creeping in. But the anger and exhaustion won out, and you pressed it, the message sending in an instant.

As the seconds ticked by, the weight of your decision began to settle in. You set the phone down on the nightstand, staring up at the ceiling as your chest tightened. For now, this felt like the only way to protect yourself from the rollercoaster of emotions he’d put you through. You needed space—space to think, to breathe, and maybe even to figure out if this relationship was truly as solid as you’d believed.

Curling up under the covers, you willed yourself to sleep, though your mind refused to quiet. You didn’t know how Jensen would react, or if he’d even respond, but for now, the ball was in his court.

The next few days passed in a blur of unanswered calls and unread messages from Jensen. His texts ranged from concerned to apologetic, to downright pleading, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Every time your phone buzzed, it only added to the weight in your chest.

It wasn’t just the unrelenting nausea that kept you from answering—though that was bad enough. It was the fear of hearing yet another excuse or promise that would inevitably fall short. You felt raw, drained, and utterly unprepared to face his voice or explanations. And then, another fear began creeping in: you couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten a proper meal. Over the past week, everything you tried to eat came right back up. You were weak, shaky, and desperate for answers.

So today, you dragged yourself to the doctor’s office, clutching the straps of your bag tightly as you sat in the waiting room. You’d convinced yourself that the stress had finally caught up with you, wreaking havoc on your stomach. Maybe some pills could calm it down. Maybe you just needed something to numb everything you were feeling.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)?”, the nurse called out, her voice drawing your attention. You stood slowly, your legs unsteady beneath you as you followed her into the exam room.

The doctor entered shortly after, a kind, older man who listened intently as you explained your symptoms. He nodded along, jotting down notes on his clipboard.

“Well”, he said, closing the file and looking up at you with a calm expression, “it sounds like there could be a few things going on here. But before we jump to conclusions, let’s run some tests to rule out anything serious”.

You nodded, your hands clasped tightly in your lap as they drew blood and asked for a urine sample.

The doctor’s words were calm and reassuring as he handed you a small pamphlet about managing stress-related nausea, though his advice to rest and eat light foods felt almost impossible to follow. He mentioned the test results would be ready in two days, and you could return to discuss them. You nodded along, thanking him softly before leaving the office with heavy steps.

When you reached your car, you slid into the driver’s seat and pulled out your phone to set a reminder for the follow-up appointment. As you scrolled through your calendar to select the date, something stopped you cold: little red dots marking the weeks of your cycle—or rather, the lack of them. Your heart stuttered as the realization hit you.

You hadn’t marked your last period.

Not this month.

Not even the month before.

Your mind raced as you counted backward, piecing together the timeline. Stress, nausea, exhaustion - it all clicked into place like a puzzle you hadn’t even realized you were solving.

You stared at your phone screen, the glaring absence of those little red dots sending your mind spinning. For a moment, you just sat there, frozen, as the weight of the realization settled over you. Then, to your own surprise, a laugh bubbled up from your chest—sharp, bitter, and disbelieving.

“This has to be a fucking joke”, you muttered to yourself, shaking your head as the laugh turned into something closer to hysteria. Your life already felt like a bad movie, but this? This was beyond absurd.

Pregnant? No. Absolutely not. That wasn’t even possible.

Jensen had told you about his vasectomy years ago. He’d said it with a shrug, explaining how he’d made the decision after his third child. “Snipped and done”.

So what the hell was this?

Your stomach churned, and for once, you weren’t sure if it was the nausea or the panic clawing at you. You gripped the steering wheel tightly, your knuckles turning white as you tried to rationalize what was happening. Maybe you’d miscounted your cycles. Maybe the stress had thrown off your hormones. Maybe the nausea was some weird lingering bug that had nothing to do with this.

You bit your lip, your mind racing as you tried to shake the persistent thought of pregnancy. It wasn’t logical. It couldn’t be true. And yet, the idea clung to you like a bad dream, refusing to let go. Every rational argument you came up with was met with that same nagging doubt.

“Against all odds”, you muttered to yourself bitterly. “Just my fucking luck”.

In a trance-like state, you started the car and drove to the nearest pharmacy. The familiar streets blurred around you as your thoughts spiraled, replaying every moment that could have brought you to this point. By the time you pulled into the parking lot, your hands were trembling on the wheel.

You didn’t get out right away. Instead, you sat there, staring at the bright pharmacy sign glowing in the distance. Your stomach churned with nerves, a fresh wave of nausea rolling over you as you considered the possibility. It was ridiculous. Impossible. And yet, here you were.

As you leaned your head back against the seat, your phone buzzed next to you. The screen lit up with Jensen’s name, and your heart clenched. He was trying again. Another call, another chance to hear his voice, to let him explain, to maybe find some comfort in the chaos.

But instead of answering, you let it ring. The sound seemed to echo in the confined space of the car, each buzz pulling at your already raw emotions. You couldn’t do it. Not right now. Not until you had answers for yourself.

When the call ended, you stared at the phone for a long moment before finally stepping out of the car. The cold air hit you, jolting you slightly as you headed inside. You moved through the store quickly, avoiding eye contact as you grabbed a couple of pregnancy tests and made your way to the register. The cashier barely looked at you, and you were grateful for their indifference.

Back in the car, the bag felt heavy in your lap as you sat in silence. Your chest felt tight, your breath shaky as you realized there was no turning back now. Whatever the result, you needed to know.

You gripped the steering wheel tightly, your knuckles pale as you took a deep, shaky breath. It’s just the stress, you told yourself. Jensen can’t make babies. He had a vasectomy, for fuck´s sake. This is all in my head.

Repeating those words like a mantra, you started the car and began the drive home.

The drive felt longer than usual, your thoughts spinning with every mile. You thought of Jensen, his laughter, the way he’d always reassured you when you were overthinking. But now, it felt like there was a wall between you, built by the distance, the missed calls, the photo, and now this unbearable uncertainty.

It’s just stress, you repeated silently. It has to be.

By the time you pulled into your driveway, your nerves were frayed, but you felt a faint flicker of determination. You gathered the bag, clutching it tightly as you made your way inside. You dropped your purse near the door and headed straight to the bathroom, closing the door behind you and locking it with a resolute click.

You placed the boxes on the counter, staring at them for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. “Let’s just get this over with”, you muttered to yourself, opening one packaging and reading the instructions. Despite your shaky hands, you managed to follow the steps, setting the test down on the counter as you sat back on the edge of the bathtub, waiting.

The seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity. You tried to calm your racing heart, reminding yourself again and again that the odds were impossible. Jensen couldn’t make babies. You were just overwhelmed, and dealing with too much at once.

But even as you told yourself that, you couldn’t shake the weight of doubt pressing down on your chest.

Finally, the timer on your phone buzzed softly, jolting you out of your thoughts. You stared at the test lying face down on the counter, your heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. For a long moment, you couldn’t move, your hands gripping the edge of the counter to steady yourself.

It’s impossible. It’s just the stress, you repeated in your mind, but the words felt hollow now. Every second you hesitated made the tension in your chest grow tighter, the air in the bathroom feeling impossibly thick.

Finally, with trembling fingers, you reached for the test, the plastic cool against your skin as you turned it over. The small screen blinked back at you, and for a moment, your brain refused to process what you were seeing.

Two lines.

The world tilted for a moment, your breath catching as you stared at the unmistakable result. Two lines. Pregnant.

“No”, you whispered, shaking your head as if that could change the outcome. “No, that’s not… that’s not possible”.

But the test didn’t waver. The reality of it stared back at you, unflinching and undeniable.

Your hands trembled as you reached for the other tests, ripping open the packages with shaky fingers. It has to be wrong, you thought desperately, your mind racing. It’s just stress, or a faulty test. It has to be.

One by one, you followed the instructions, your breath shallow and your pulse pounding in your ears. You lined up the tests on the counter, each of them a small, silent judge waiting to deliver their verdict.

Time dragged as you waited, staring at the row of tests like they held the power to decide your future. Finally, the seconds ticked down, and you turned the first test over. Then the second. The third.

By the time all five were turned, you were staring at ten lines total, their meaning unmistakable. Pregnant. Every single one.

You bit your lip, still frozen in place, unable to process what you were seeing. A hollow laugh bubbled up in your throat, escaping despite yourself. “This can’t be real”, you whispered, shaking your head as you gripped the edge of the counter for support. “It’s… it’s not possible”.

But the lines staring back at you didn’t waver. The room felt too quiet, the weight of the truth pressing down on you like a lead blanket.

Your stomach churned, the nausea threatening to rise again, but you pushed it down, focusing on the tests in front of you. Ten lines. Five tests. There was no escaping it now.

You’re pregnant.

And you had no idea what to do next.

The silence in the room grew heavier as another thought crept into your mind, one you didn’t want to entertain but couldn’t shake.

Maybe Jensen lied about the vasectomy.

You frowned, staring at the tests again as if they might suddenly change their verdict.

And while you were sure Jensen loved his kids more than anything, he’d always been so adamant about not wanting more. That was part of the reason you’d never really worried about this happening. He was certain. He was done. Wasn’t he?

Your mind spiraled, each question leading to another. Had he lied? It didn’t seem like him to do that.

You shook your head, cutting off the whirlwind of thoughts. No. Jensen wasn’t the kind of man to lie about something like that. He was too honest, sometimes to a fault. But then what?

Your stomach twisted again, not just from the nausea but from the fear and uncertainty clawing at you. The picture, the message, the distance between you and Jensen lately—it all felt like it was piling on top of this new revelation, threatening to crush you.

You needed answers, but the thought of calling Jensen felt impossible right now. If he had lied, what then? If he hadn’t, how did this happen?

What the hell are you going to do?

You sank onto the bathroom floor, your back against the wall, staring at the line of positive tests on the counter. For the first time in days, the tears didn’t come. You were too overwhelmed, too numb to cry. You didn’t know what to feel—only that your world had just shifted in a way you never could have expected.

On set, Jensen was a shadow of his usual self. He’d always been the kind of actor who could compartmentalize—focus entirely on the work, leaving whatever was going on in his personal life at the door. But today, it was like that ability had completely deserted him.

He fumbled his lines repeatedly, missing his cues and breaking character in ways that were completely uncharacteristic of him. Every mistake earned him a concerned look from the director, but he brushed off the quiet questions with a muttered, “Sorry, long night”, or a vague excuse about being under the weather.

Inside, though, he was spiraling.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you—not just your silence, but the fear that had settled deep in his chest. Jensen had never felt panic like this before. You weren’t just upset; you were shutting him out completely. No matter how many times he called or texted, there was no response. And after the message he’d left last night, he thought he’d hear from you by now.

He wasn’t used to this kind of uncertainty, and it terrified him. The possibility of losing you—of pushing you so far away that he couldn’t fix it—felt unbearable.

“Jensen”, the assistant director, called gently, bringing him back to the moment. “Let’s take it from the top. Just take a breath, man”.

Jensen nodded stiffly, running a hand through his hair as he forced himself to focus. He tried to shake it off, to dig into the professionalism he’d relied on for so many years, but the second the scene started again, his mind wandered.

Are you okay? Are you still upset? Are you—

“Cut!”, the director called, exasperated but still trying to be patient. “Jensen, man, what’s going on? This isn’t like you”.

Jensen exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of his neck as he struggled to come up with an answer. He couldn’t tell them the truth—that he was one text away from completely unraveling.

“I just—”, he started, but the words wouldn’t come. He shook his head and muttered, “Give me five”.

Without waiting for permission, he walked off set, grabbing his jacket and pulling his phone out of the pocket. He stared at the screen, willing it to light up with a message from you, something—anything—to break the silence. But there was nothing.

He hovered over your name in his contacts, his thumb brushing over the call button, but he hesitated. If you weren’t answering, it was because you didn’t want to talk to him. And the thought of that hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Damn it”, he muttered, leaning heavily against the wall. He wasn’t used to feeling this helpless, and it was driving him to the brink.

As the afternoon crept on, your phone buzzed persistently with calls. Each time Jensen’s name lit up the screen, it was like another weight pressing against your chest. You’d ignored him for days, but his relentless attempts to reach you began to chip away at your resolve. By the fifth call in a row, you sighed heavily, your fingers trembling as you finally answered.

“Hey”, your voice came out quieter and shakier than you’d intended, but it was all you could manage.

There was a beat of silence on the other end, followed by the sound of Jensen’s breath hitching. “Baby”, he said, his voice full of relief but also thick with worry. “Thank God. I’ve been losing my mind. Why haven’t you been answering? Are you okay?”.

The sound of his voice, so familiar yet distant, sent a pang through your chest. For the first time, it felt foreign to you—like the voice of someone you no longer knew. The days of silence, the picture, the cruel message, the endless nausea, and now the impossible test results… it was all too much.

“I’m fine”, you said flatly, the words automatic. But they weren’t true, and you knew he could tell.

“Fine?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “I know you´re not.Talk to me”.

You hesitated, gripping the phone tighter as your emotions warred within you. Part of you wanted to tell him everything—to lay it all out and demand answers. But another part of you felt so detached, so unsure of where you even stood, that the thought of opening up to him felt impossible.

“I’m just… tired”, you said finally, your voice cracking slightly. “It’s been a lot, Jensen. I don’t know…”.

He cut you off, his voice tinged with desperation. “Don’t do this. Don’t shut me out. Please, baby. I know I’ve messed up. I know I haven’t been there the way I should’ve been, but I swear to you, I’m trying to fix it”.

His words should have soothed you, but they only made the ache in your chest worse. “It feels like all you do is promise things”, you said softly, your tone bitter despite your attempt to keep it neutral. “But nothing ever changes".

“That’s not true”, he argued, his voice raising slightly in frustration. “I’ve been trying, trying to come home, but the timing’s been—”.

“Terrible?”, you interjected. “Yeah, Jensen. It’s been terrible. For me. For us. And I don’t even know if there’s an ‘us’ anymore”.

The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of your words hanging in the air. When Jensen finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “What are you saying?”, he asked, his tone raw and broken.

Your grip on the phone tightened as you struggled to hold back tears. “I don’t know”, you admitted, your voice trembling. “I don’t know what I’m saying, Jensen. I just… I don’t know how to feel right now”.

The vulnerability in your voice seemed to knock the wind out of him. “(Y/N)”, he whispered, his voice full of pain, “whatever this is, we can figure it out. Please, don’t give up on me. On us”.

Hearing his voice crack sent fresh tears streaming down your face, but you stayed silent, unsure of what to say. For the first time, you weren’t sure if there was anything left to say.

Jensen’s voice broke through the heavy silence, softer now, laced with raw emotion. “You know it’s been Danneel”, he whispered, his tone pleading but also tinged with hurt. “She’s trying to destroy us. She’s done it before, and now she’s doing it again. Why would you doubt me so easily?”.

His words hit you like a weight, and you felt your chest tighten further. You closed your eyes, leaning against the wall as your grip on the phone tightened. You wanted to believe him—you really did. But everything about the past few days had left you feeling fragile, unmoored, and unsure of what to trust.

“It’s not that easy”, you murmured, your voice barely audible. “I saw the picture, Jensen. I read the message. And you weren’t here to explain. It’s been days. How was I supposed to feel?”.

Jensen exhaled sharply on the other end, his frustration barely contained. “You were supposed to trust me”, he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve never lied to you. Not about us, not about anything. Why would I start now? Why would I risk everything we have for… for her?”.

“I don’t know”, you whispered, the tears in your throat making it hard to speak. “I don’t know what to believe anymore”.

“Believe me”, he said firmly, his voice cracking with desperation. “Please, baby. You’re all I care about. Danneel’s just trying to get in your head. You can’t let her win. Don’t let her take this away from us”.

Your tears spilled over again, your heart aching at the raw pain in his voice. You knew Jensen wasn’t someone who let his emotions show easily, and hearing him like this only added to the storm inside you.

“I want to”, you admitted, your voice trembling. “I want to believe you so badly. But I feel so… lost, Jensen. Everything feels like it’s falling apart”.

“It’s not”, he whispered, his voice steadying slightly. “We’re not falling apart. I’m here, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you. Please”.

“I don’t know what to do”, you said softly, almost to yourself.

Jensen’s voice came through the line, gentle but resolute. “You don’t have to do anything. Just… let me come home and fix this. Let me prove to you that I’m telling the truth”.

Jensen's voice softened, his tone pleading yet firm. "I’ll be home tomorrow. And we’ll talk, alright? I’ll explain everything—what happened in that picture, why it looked like that, and why the fuck I would never cheat on you. Especially not after buying a fucking house for us”.

As his words grew sharper toward the end, his voice cracked slightly, frustration and anger bleeding through. Before you could respond, he hung up abruptly, leaving you staring at your phone in stunned silence.

The sound of the call ending felt like a slap in the quiet room, and the weight of his last words lingered in the air. You could hear the raw emotion in his voice—his anger wasn’t just about the accusations but the sheer pain of hearing you doubt the foundation of your relationship.

You sank onto the couch in the living room, your head spinning. The way he’d hung up so quickly stung, but the guilt gnawed at you too. You hadn’t meant to say the words that hurt him so much. I don’t even know if there’s an us left. The second they’d slipped from your mouth, you’d wanted to take them back, but the damage was done. And it had clearly hit him harder than either of you had anticipated.

Now, all you could do was wait for tomorrow to come and hope that somehow, this conversation would bring clarity instead of tearing you apart further.

Meanwhile, on Jensen’s end, he slammed his phone onto the bed with more force than he intended. His chest heaved as he paced the room, running his hands through his hair in frustration. Your words replayed in his mind, cutting deeper every time. I don’t even know if there’s an us left.

“Fuck”, he muttered, his voice barely audible as he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. His hands cradled his face as he tried to steady his breathing. The idea of losing you—of everything you’d built together slipping away—was unbearable.

The next day couldn’t come fast enough for him. For now, all he could do was cling to the hope that he’d be able to fix this when he saw you. And that you’d still be willing to let him try.

The next day began the same way the last few had: with your stomach rebelling against you. You knelt over the toilet, weak and exhausted, your body trembling from the effort. By the time the nausea passed, you were too drained to do anything but sit on the bathroom floor for a few moments, letting the cool tiles press against your skin.

Eventually, you made your way to the kitchen. The clock on the wall read just past noon, and you realized you hadn’t eaten anything substantial in days. You poured yourself a small bowl of oats, hoping something plain and gentle might stay down. You managed two spoonfuls before your stomach churned violently again, the sensation threatening but not enough to send you rushing back to the bathroom.

You pushed the bowl aside, leaning back in your chair with a hand resting on your stomach. The restlessness gnawed at you, a mix of nerves and the undeniable physical discomfort that had become your new normal. You glanced at the clock again, the minutes dragging impossibly slow as you waited for Jensen’s arrival.

The thought of facing him made your chest tighten. There were so many things to say, questions to ask, but you weren’t sure where to start. Could you even bring yourself to tell him about the tests? About what those two lines meant? Would he even believe you, after the accusations and the growing distance?

———————————

A/N: Well, there we go, lol. Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Taglist: @cheynovak @chriszgirl92 @jenniferr0323 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @muhahaha303 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @viviandarkbloom06 @jassackles @evasmlp @acklesaddict67 @mostlymarvelgirl @emma1998sblog @mishaesque @headinthemoon87 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @impala67rollingthroughtown @manicjk @kr804573 @zaratahir @djs8891 @winchesterwild78 @jamerlynn @whimsyfinny @libby99hb @deansimpalababy @deans-queen @kawaii-arfid-memes @faephoria @stoneyggirl2 @fitxgrld @luvr4miya @yikeschoices @lyssalvus @soab1967 @luvr4miya @didi0666 @impala67rollingthroughtown @cheekygirl2309 @kamisobsessed @deansimpalababy @magnificientgirl

[weregonnaneedabiggerboat]

That Stupid Rabbit!

Lee!You x Ler!Jax

CW: Some baby talk, lots of teasing, Jax is a mean ler, and obvs tickling so scroll if that's not your thing!

A/N: Your persona is a squeaky toy plush here! This fic is sort of an addition to this drawing of Jax that I did. Also, this is my first tickling fic so let me know if you enjoyed!!

∘₊✧─────────✧₊∘

Stumbling back into your room after a long and tedious adventure, you collapse in your bed and heave a huge sigh. You were mentally and emotionally exhausted, and also a little bit annoyed.

What made Caine think that doing a dangerous labyrinth would be a fun adventure!? Why can't it just be an easter egg hunt or something!

You grunted loudly and covered your head with a pillow, hoping to get some shut eye soon so you could forget about today. It wasn't just the adventure that bothered you, but also the troubling transition into a whole other reality. You loved all your new friends, but sometimes their cynical attitudes towards everything was discouraging to deal with.

Not that you could blame them, being stuck here for a long time must have done something to their minds, evidenced by the fact Pomni understood you the most.

You just sighed and turned over in your bed, trying to brush all these thoughts away. Your arm extended to reach out for the lamp next to your bed, when all of a sudden you saw a shadow standing at the doorway.

You yelped, a brief look of surprise crossing your face, but your expression fell flat in annoyance when you realized who came knocking.

Course you left your door unlocked, because how could this day get any worse?

The stupid purple bunny man, Jack or whatever his name was, grinned at you as he leaned on the frame of the doorway.

“Hey there, Squeaky,” he teased, tilting his head, feigning innocence.

Yeah. Squeaky. That's what he called you. So original.

“Someone's happy to see me~"

“@#$& off, Jax,” you grunted, collapsing on your bed again and covering your face with the pillow. “I'm not in the mood for another stupid prank of yours, leave me alone.”

Jax always looked for excuses to make your plush body squeak, either by dropping you from a small height or by pushing you against something. You only figured he came here for some cheap entertainment, since the others were all ganged up and you were alone.

“What? Can't a guy check on his best buddy in the whole world without it bein a crime?" he taunted, raising his arms as if he was being accused.

You heard him welcome himself into your bedroom, and he stopped right before you. From the limited vision you had looking at the bottom of your pillow, you could see his looming figure standing before you.

“I'm serious, you cottontail jerk, get out of my— H-Hey!!”

You jolted when you felt him poke your belly, making your stuffed body squeak again. Only this time, you squeaked too.

“J-Jax!!” you exclaimed, immediately flipping the pillow to cover your belly instead of your face. However, you quickly realized how awful of an idea that was, evidenced by your slight sinking into your shoulders, since Jax could now fully see just how much that move made you blush.

Betraying you, your face heated up the more his grin widened. If it got any longer it could probably wrap around his face, you thought, and that idea almost made you smile if it wasn't for your situation right now.

“This is new, Squeaky,” he teased, poking your side from below the pillow. Jax laughed as your hand swiftly came to the rescue, smacking his wrist out of the way. “What’s the matter, Squeaky? You're awfully squirmy today~"

“Jax enough!!” you growled defensively, though it came off way less threatening than you would've liked, especially with how much your face was blushing.

However, in typical Jax fashion, he totally ignored you and poked your side again, and again, and again. And each time you tried to cover it he'd just switch his hand to poking the other side.

You started to giggle and kick your legs, squirming even more to get away from his fingers. This reaction seemed to entice him even more, as the more giggly you got, the more he poked you in different places.

“Aww is the little squeaky toy ticklish~?” he cooed with a mocking voice, grinning smugly when you returned his tease with an embarrassed glare.

The t-word!? Seriously!?

How does he always find such effective ways of bullying you?

Also, the way he said it so confidently made you sink into yourself even more, using the pillow as some sort of shield to protect you so you can hide away and never come out.

And of COURSE your reaction to that word didn't go unnoticed by him, because his ears flicked straight up in curiosity once he saw you look away. He almost looked intrigued at this new vulnerability he discovered, lidding his eyes and raising his eyebrows.

"Sh-Shut up,” you murmured.

“What? Why?” he chuckled, wiggling his fingers in the air and snickering at your embarrassed reaction. “Are ya ticklish, Squeaky~?”

You let out a whine and tried to hit him with the pillow, pleading for him to get off. Which didn't help at all by the way, since he just grabbed it from your hands and tossed it aside.

“I said shut up!!” you scolded.

“Haha, there is no way you get flustered from the word tickle!” He was laughing at you at this point, and it was starting to make you feel embarrassed and a little belittled.

You looked away and pouted sadly, which he noticed, and his expression calmed down slightly as a result.

Of course he was just mocking you, what did you expect? There was no way he was ever going to—

“There's no need to be so ashamed, Squeaky,” he chuckled with a less taunting tone than before, interrupting your invasive thoughts. Jax didn't stoop as low as to make fun of something so vulnerable. Then he added, “Buuut, don't think this is going to save you from anything~”

He cracked his knuckles and grinned down at you, and your eyes widened in response, because now he climbed on top of your bed and sat on your legs, limiting your movement.

No. No, he wouldn't, he can't! You'd probably explode into a million pieces or something!! What the hell did he think he was doing!?

"What the heck are you—"

“Get ready, Squeaky, because I'm... going to…” He watched your expression with narrowed, amused eyes, looking down at you with maybe the most evil look you've ever seen come from his face. He then raised his hands and slowly made a clawing motion with his fingers.

“Tickle you~”

Before you could respond, he quickly descended his wiggling fingers into your ribs, and you squealed out in a fit of giggles, trying to kick your feet or push him or something! But his weight on top of you prevented you from squirming too far, and your arms uselessly wrapped around your chest.

“Tickle, tickle~” he cooed, and every time you squealed, it just encouraged him even more. “Yeah? That make you blush?" he taunted, moving his fingers into every corner that made you giggle.

"Hmm, what about... Coochicoochicoo~” he cooed, his fingers scrambling into your ribs, as he poked and prodded around in there.

“JAHAHAX!!” you shrieked through your laughter, feeling like you were about to have a heart attack from all this out of nowhere teasing coming from him. Your face felt hot with embarrassment, and you closed your eyes tightly to avoid eye contact. “STOHOHOP!! IHIHI’M SERIOUHUHUS!!”

“No way! This is way too good!!” He laughed along with you, experimenting with different spots, his fingers squirming and poking anywhere your arms failed to block, almost as if he was searching for something.

“Where's your tickle spot, Squeaky? I know you have one~” he sang. “Is it here? Or here? Or maybe here?”

You felt his fingers wriggle at your ribs, then your belly, then your neck. Each touch tickled even more than the last, and it didn't just feel like tickling, it felt like tickling that he was very much enjoying.

You swiped your arms up and down your body helplessly. Every time you blocked your sides, he tickled your ribs, and every time you blocked your ribs, he tickled your sides. There was no winning!

And then, you made a big mistake.

You lifted your arms to grab at his wrists and finally pull them off of you, but before you could catch them—

“Oh I know, HERE!!” he declared, pushing his index fingers under your arms and making you scream even more with embarrassed laughter. He laughed at his own victory, and you just couldn't seem to catch a break.

“NOHOHO!! NO JAHAX STOHOHOP PLEHEASE!!” you pleaded with the rabbit, clamping your arms down on his hands and trying your best to arch your back. It was no use, you just trapped his hands under your arms, and you couldn't find the strength to lift them.

“You're just making this easier and easier for me, Squeaky,” he chuckled, grinning down at you and continuing to wriggle his fingers under your clamped down arms. “Tickle, tickle~”

You couldn't even get any more words out now, not that it mattered because he wasn't going to stop anyway. Your indecipherable pleads for him to stop fell on deaf ears, and it seemed like he really was never going to stop until he was satisfied.

“Say it, Squeaky~ Say you're ticklish~” he teased, moving his fingers to that sweet spot right between your ribs and armpits.

“NOHOHO!!” you cackled, hugging yourself so tightly that you might as well be tying yourself up with your arms. You really wanted him to give you a breathing break, but the catch being that you had to SAY it? Out loud? To him of all people!?

“Say you're ticklish and I'll stop~” his voice cooed playfully to you, even with your eyes shut tightly you can still hear the grin in his words. His hand moved to your belly, and he scribbled his fingers all over your midsection, keeping his other hand poking your ribs.

“FIHINE I'M—” you whined through your laughter, trying force the word out through resistive lips. “I-I’m!! I- Hihi— I-I'm—!! @#&$!! I'm NOHOT saying ihihit!!"

“Oh well," he chuckled at your adorable reaction, humming in disappointment. "Looks like I'm not stopping any time soon, then, Squeaky~” he shrugged nonchalantly, as if he could go all day with this.

“F-FIHINE I'm—" you giggled with a tiny voice, squealing as you felt both his hands scribble all around your belly and sides."Ihi'm ticklihish—!!"

Jax grinned at that, feeling quite victorious in doing his job properly. He pulled his hands away and sat up, resting them next to you.

You heaved a giant gulp of air, panting strongly from that entire episode. He was such an evil, evil ler. And way to jinx it, too.

“Say it again, but this time look at me,” he decided to add with a smug look, then wiggled his fingers again. “Or else…~”

You squeaked as he gave you a warning poke at your sides. No way he was really going to do all that again, right…?

You just stared at him with wide eyes, frozen in place as you decided between enduring that again or actually having to say the t-word out loud. Both options sounded just as anxiety inducing as the other.

“Come on, Squeaky, we don't have all night~”

You yelped as you felt him poke you again, and quickly blurted the words out loud. “F-Fine I'm ticklish!! I-I am!!” you stammered, your voice high pitched and embarrassed.

Satisfied, Jax finally got off of you, stretching out his back, then poking your nose playfully.

“See ya around, Squeaky~” he chuckled with a wave, turning to walk away.

“Jax—"

His ears flicked curiously, and he looked back at you, hands in his pockets.

Your eyes flicked between his hidden hands and his eyes, but this time you caught yourself quickly before he could notice. Still panting a bit from the adrenaline rush, you managed to compose yourself enough to sit up and hug your pillow.

“...Please, don't tell anyone,” you pleaded with a small and timid voice, anxious at the idea of everyone knowing about this secret of yours. Maybe there wasn't anything wrong with it, but it was way too vulnerable of a subject for just anyone to know about.

Jax raised his eyebrows with a smug smirk, he definitely noticed you looking at his hands. Part of him wanted to tell all your friends just to make you mad, but seeing your genuine expression made him reconsider. Making you feel unsafe was beyond his interest, and besides, having this just be between you two would make for some way more fun teasing.

Still, not wanting to give in so easily, he just gave you a vague answer and a shrug.

“Hmm... We'll see, Squeaky," he hummed, turning and walking out of your room, that ever smug expression on his face.

You saw his shadow disappear from your doorway. What did he even mean by that?? Was he going to tell them or no!?

You swallowed nervously, and got up to go and silently lock your door closed for the rest of the night, not wanting to face the others whilst being such a flustered mess.

Slumping back into your bed, you sighed heavily, trying your best to process what just happened. Your stomach flared up in butterflies as your mind played the past 10 minutes over and over in vivid detail.

Knowing Jax, there was absolutely no way he was going to let go of this so easily. And as much as you wanted to deny it for your own peace of mind, you knew he was going to tease you about this forever.

Still…

You curled up around your pillow, laying on your side and staring at the clock tick on the wall. As anxious as that thought made you, you still smiled a bit. And you couldn't help but feel a little excited at the same time.

Ugh… That stupid rabbit.

[stvrnioloslvt]

❛❛ ⛸️ + 🏒 ❞

hockey game

✎ in collab with @sturnslutz > read me!

a few days had passed from your last - and definitely awkward - meeting with matt, and there wasn’t one moment in which your mind didn’t replay the event of the showers on loop, leaving you to overthink what had happened: what was all that? was it the heat of the moment that had you both acting out, or was it genuine attraction? he was attractive, sure, but were you actually that attracted to him?

lost in your thoughts you started to zone out, momentarily forgetting that next to you sat the devil’s advocate, also known as chris. “hellooo,” he called out, waving a hand in front of your eyes, “earth calls baby, do you copy?”

you scoffed, swatting his hand away while muttering a soft “get your filthy hand out of my face” under your breath. “dude, you were fucking gone,” he commented in an exaggerated tone, before a weird glint began sparkling in his eyes. you leaned back a little, perplexity written all over your face as your friend’s face leaned closer to yours. “did you fuck him?”

“what?” you almost screamed, pushing him off of you. “what on earth are you talking about, chris?”

you watched as a smirk took place on chris’ lips slowly. he tried to hide it by biting his lip, before words spilled uncontrolled by his mouth. “your little rendez-vous in the shower. so, did you have sex?”

your cheeks broke out in a crimson red blush furiously burning you whole, panic almost settling in before a little light switched on in your brain. you two were alone in the locker, so how did he…

“did you push me there on purpose?” you finally screamed incredulous, attracting a few puzzled looks from college kids moving around on campus. you didn’t care though, not when you came to the realization that chris had purposefully told you that the water wasn’t running knowing that you would have checked it for yourself, effectively bumping into his brother half naked fresh out of the shower. 

chris’ smirk widened as he saw the gears in your mind turning, putting the missing pieces of the story together. “bingo,” he whispered, leaning back against the tree trunk you were sitting under. “don’t thank me, by the way. oh, and i told him you’re coming to our home for those little study sessions of yours. don’t worry though, me and nick won’t be there.”

you watched wide-eyed as your friend brought both arms behind his head, closing his eyes and resting there as if he was sunbathing on the beach. you tried to talk numerous times, your mouth opening and closing like a fish in a miserable attempt to scold him, to tell him that he couldn’t just toy with you however he pleased and act like he was doing you a favour. in the end, you finally snapped back to your senses and smacked him across his face, earning a pained grunt from the boy who was now holding his cheek, the soft, pale skin slowly turning redder by the second.

“are you actually crazy?” you exclaimed, sitting up on your knees to look at him better. chris groaned once again, glancing at his hand that was once on his cheek almost as if he was scared there would be blood on there. how dramatic. 

“oh c’mon,” he whined, sitting up straight, “you could really use this time. and also…” he began, eyeing you up and down, fixing his gaze on your tensed features. “...you really need to get laid. you’re too stressed.” once again, you were at a loss of words from his bluntness. it wasn’t something new, but usually you were the blunt one, so to see the tables reverse it was a weird and unexpected experience.  

“chris- i fucking hate you,” you groaned, burying your head in your hands as despair came clawing at your insides. you could not let the meeting happen, not after what had happened just a few days prior. “why, what happened?” asked the boy curiously. you glanced at him between your fingers, realizing too late that you had spoken out loud. you sighed, shaking your head while you gathered your belongings and threw them in your bag. “nothing,” you said while getting up, shaking the grass from your pants, keen on running from your friend as soon as possible. “listen, i’ll see you later, yeah?”

“i’ll send you the location! and i want you as near as possible to the rink at the game!” 

“yeah, yeah, sure,” you whispered, heading towards your room. yeah, you were fucked. 

some hours later…

“what do you think?” you asked, holding a baby blue shirt to your torso. honey turned around, nodding in approval as she slipped her own shirt on. she looked around the room, sitting down on cherry’s bed as she tied her shoelaces. “by the way, where’s your roommate?”

“already at the rink,” you replied, grabbing the phone from the desk. you quickly skimmed over the countless messages cherry sent you, announcing mindlessly to honey that apparently they were holding two spots for you two and that the arena was filling more and more by the second.

quickly, you made your way to the rink, meeting nate and his crew right at the front. you observed as he immediately pulled honey into a hug, your nose scrunching from the obnoxious smell of alcohol reeking from his breath. your eyebrows shot up in surprise as his eyes lingered on your friend more than necessary, basically stripping her with his eyes. fucking disgusting. honey shot you a quick glance, to which you could only reply with a shrug and a confused laugh. as a look of unease made its way on honey’s face, you decided to step in and save her from the drunken state of your friend. “c’mon, we’ll see you later guys,” you said, interlocking arms with honey and nodding to nate and his friends, before pulling her out of that rather awkward interaction. 

you made way to cherry and other girls from your figure skating lessons, sitting down next to them. “can you not-” you began, showing to cherry your phone overflowing with messages, “fucking bombard me with messages? everytime i think something urgent has happened and it’s always something stupid.”

“what do you mean stupid? the choice of a new leotard is pretty much fundamental, what if i choose a color that makes me look like shit?” you look back at the girl who’s 100% serious about the matter before bursting out in laughter, absolutely incredulous. soon after, cherry’s scold turned into a soft smile, then she, too, bursted into a fit of laughter. 

too caught up into your conversation with your roommate, you failed to notice nate plopping down next to honey until you feel her knee nudge against yours, your head turning immediately and landing on the drunk man sitting too close to you for your own liking. you nodded in her way, asking a silent question: are you okay? honey shook her head, not really wanting to talk about it as her eyes fixed on a spot on the rink. you turned your gaze back to nate, scoffing and rolling your eyes as he continued to blabber drunkenly.  

the loud horn blew through the speakers, lights dancing around the arena as the players entered the rink, the speaker screaming something in the microphone that got muffled by the loud cheering of college students all around you. you got up, pulling honey so she could see the team of our college entering. your eyes quickly inspected the rink, landing immediately on matt’s back. and, as if between you two were pieces of a magnet, he turned to face your way, his icy eyes immediately finding yours. you couldn’t help the flashback from days before replaying in your mind, but you decided to distract yourself. tearing your gaze away from matt’s, you spotted chris. “look,” you leaned over honey’s shoulder, yelling over the noise, “there’s matt and there’s chris.” 

honey didn’t respond, but by the way she was looking at the boy you knew she had heard you loud and clear. deciding that teasing her might ease some of her nervousness, you laugh, “you’re drooling,” watching then how the girl tried to defend herself. 

you watched as the brothers talked to each other seemingly focused on the game that was going to begin soon, but you couldn’t help but notice the sneaky glances matt threw your way more than once. fuck, this wasn’t good. 

from your right side, cherry nudged you lightly. “have you talked to him?” she asked, nodding in his way. you shook your head, slumping against your seat. cherry knew what had happened in the showers since that day you had blasted through your dorm door with a rather shocked face, immediately rambling about the little encounter you had with the triplet. to cite her words, you had been “stupid for having let this opportunity slip from your hands”, so since then each time you two met she would always ask you the same question in hope things had changed. they had not. in fact, it seemed like you and matt had reached a common pact of avoiding each other as much as possible, not wanting to deal with the consequences of your slip up. 

finally, the game started, pulling you away from your own thoughts. minutes flew by and the crowd got more and more agitated by the second. you glanced to the clock, gnawing nervously at your lip: 40 seconds to intermission and neither team managed to throw the pluck in. suddenly, a collective gasp rose from the crowd: at first you almost missed the way a member of your team stole the puck from the other team, which then ended in chris’ grasp as he glided skillfully towards the net of the enemy, fast yet controlled. 10 seconds left. two members of the opposite team blocked chris’ path, almost managing to retrieve back the puck if it weren’t for chris’ leap of faith towards matt, the little black disk sliding between one of the boys’ legs and ending right in front of the other sturniolo who was waiting exactly for this moment to almost throw himself towards the net, hitting the puck with his stick and making it land inside just as the intermission bell rang, the crowd exploding in screams and yells as the +1 point appeared on the score screen.  

matt threw a victory fist up in the air, shoving the helmet off his head as the team flew his way, crushing him in a joyous hug. you jumped up with the rest of the audience, clapping your hands and cheering while on the other side of the arena the students from the other college booed at you. you didn’t care though, not when the air was sizzling with electricity.

“look!” yelled cherry, pointing to the boys hugging in the rink. there, right at the center of the hug stood matt, his eyes fixed on you. even when chris elbowed him playfully he didn’t tear his gaze from you. he smiled at you softly and you reciprocated, nodding in approval as you kept clapping for him.

eventually, the boys headed towards the benches to recharge, dragging matt with them.

you turned towards honey, chuckling as you noticed that her eyes hadn’t ripped once from the rink. “having fun?” you asked her, to which she nodded. “i can tell, you haven’t taken your eyes off the rink the whole time, let’s make sure your eyes don’t get stuck now.” you laughed as you saw her annoyed expression, leaving her to be while you toyed with your phone. suddenly, a message from chris came through:

❛❛ chris🏒 ❞

⤷ we have a problem

you furrowed your brows at the single message, quickly glancing back to the rink as the bell rang again, the boys gliding in again. you analyzed chris, trying to understand if he was sick or hurt, but he looked neither. with a last glance at your phone you put it back in your pocket, trying to enjoy the second part of the game.

that was, until a player shoved chris on the ground, and said boy got back up and charged towards him like a fury, ripping the helmet from the guy’s head and punching him multiple times. you couldn’t help but scoot to the edge of the seat, your back straight and tense as you waited for the ref to separate them. he didn’t, though, and you watched with horror as matt tried to intervene before things got out of hand, effectively ending with chris pushing him out of the way. finally, the refs managed to separate the two boys, sending chris to the penalty box where his coach started yelling at him. 

what none of you expected, though, was for a girl to run to the box, pounding on it until chris opened it and welcomed her in a hug. suddenly, the mysterious message made sense. trouble wasn’t a sickness, or an ache, or even this little stunt he had just pulled, trouble was this girl he had just kissed in front of two colleges. “no fucking way,” you muttered, your heart beating incredibly fast in your ribcage as adrenaline came back running through your veins. 

you turned towards honey who seemed to be in a trance, calling her name over and over before she bolted out of there, heading towards the penalty box. “shit,” you exclaimed, running after your friend who had never moved faster before. as you reached the box, you couldn’t help but notice matt moving towards you, resting his free hand on the glass that separated the players from the crowd right where yours was, in a <hidden> attempt to be closer to you. you would have lied if you said that the gesture didn’t make your stomach erupt in butterflies, but you had to snap back to reality when <chris’ girlfriend> spoke to you in a rather bitchy tone. 

“nu-uh girl, you’re not talking to your reflection, i’m not the bitch here.” you spat back, watching delighted as her features morphed into horror, your little remark hitting a nail in her ego. how pathetic. you heard matt stifling back a chuckle, his fingers tapping mindlessly on the glass. Fuck, you wanted to touch him so bad. but as tempted as you were in the moment, you knew you had bigger problems to take care of, and that’s how you ran to honey again who was leaving the stadium, after flipping that addison girl off. you slipped your hand in honey’s, dragging her out of there while muttering angrily under your breath. 

“she’s ugly as fuck, too. he downgraded,” you muttered more loudly as honey sobbed into your shoulder, stroking her hair and back comfortingly. you looked around, noticing people giving you weird looks on the street as if they’ve never seen a person cry. you rolled your eyes, clearly annoyed before pulling honey with you, heading towards her apartment building.

“baby, look” murmured honey softly, handing you his phone. you read chris’ messages, your expression laced with disgust as a new wave of anger washed over you. you scoffed angrily, switching then to nate’s messages and cringing from the clearly altered state he was in. “chris is a fucking weirdo, the switch up was crazy,” you said, shaking your head. “at least nate was nice,” you commented. but was he? or was he only drunk speaking? “i guess,” you added lastly.

finally back to honey’s apartment, you follow her to her bedroom, throwing her some pjs and looking for a spare to wear. “i’m staying here tonight, okay? i’m not letting you be alone.”

and as you and your friend spent the rest of the night watching movies and giggling to little dumb remarks you made about your life, you didn’t notice your phone vibrating with new messages.

❛❛ unknown ❞

⤷ hey, it's matt

⤷ i asked chris for your number, i just wanted to check up on you

© stvrnioloslvt

ও a.n: AAAA IT'S FINALLY HERE EVERYBODY, FUCKIN FINALLY.

ও go read @sturnslutz part, too, she's the fucking queen of angst and honey's pov is absolutely amazing!

ও as always, let me know if you liked this little thingy, and remember that you're always welcome to pop by in my inbox🩷

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

You’re like the best writer of smut here ☺️☺️☺️

Please I’m begging 90s James (can be any era) taking reader’s virginity? But he didn’t know she’s innocent and she thinks after all the groupies he fucked he’d be disappointed in her? But he’s actually super turned on, cause no one touched her and now he gets to ruin her??? So I guess corruption kink, purity kink, dirty talk, size kink (he’s big, we all know that)???

A/n: I've had this conversation with a friend a few times, my idea is that -going off of the picture of James on the record, we all know the one- he's roughly 5-7 inches (8 being a generous amount) because he's holding himself in his hand and there's still some poking out, plus he looks flaccid SO by my calculations I've come up with said lengths, let me know if you want to hear more of my thoughts on sixty year old mens dicks🫠

Warnings: Smut, size kink, dirty talk, fingering (f receiving), idk about corruption and purity kinks but I tried lol, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You straddled his lap, arms around his neck with your fingers laced in his hair. James's arms were around you, holding you close while he attacked your lips with your own, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You'd been dating for two months, getting closer to three, and you still hadn't told him he would be your first. You'd gone on a few dates, some highschool romances but those didn't mean anything really.

You were quiet and kept to yourself, you didn't go out, you didn't get dates, how you managed to get him was beyond you but here you were, in his bed, in his lap, in his arms with his hard on pressed firmly against your ass.

Honestly, you didn't think you'd make it this far with him. James was a rocker, the lead singer of a big band, he'd been with so many women it was hard to believe that he went cold turkey just because he met you.

"Sweetheart," he spoke, getting your attention, "what's wrong?" He asked, bringing a hand up to your face and thumbing your cheek in a soothing motion.

"What's wrong..?" You repeated softly, letting him move your face further away so he could look at you. "Nothing's wrong, why?"

"You were thinking about something." He said with a warm smile. "You stopped kissing me."

You gave a small nod, understanding why he was stopping now. "Right, sorry." You leaned closer to kiss him again but you only got a quick peck before he pushed you away again.

"What were you thinking about, sweetheart?" He asked, eyes flicking down to your red lips.

"Nothing." You assured.

James rolled his eyes. "It's not nothing, tell me." He said sternly, looking you in the eye. You chewed your cheek, he knew just what eyes to give to make your knees weak.

"I'm sorry." You finally said. "I know you're used to a lot of women, you're used to groupies, and I'm not them and I don't think it'll be good enough but I want to try, I just literally don't know how..?" You explained.

James blinked at you, expression blank. "Sweetheart, I mean this politely, what the fuck do you mean?" He couldn't hold back a small chuckle. "Are-are you saying you're scared you're not good enough at sex for me?"

Your mouth opened before the words came out. "Well, yeah but that's not exactly what I meant." You mumbled. "I mean... I-I might be lacking in the, um, sex...ual... intimacy? With, you know... others?"

James inhaled deeply, he gave a nod and rested his forehead on your shoulder. "Sweetheart, are you trying -and failing miserably, might I add- that you're a virgin?" You huffed at his comment but you had to nod.

"Yes." You mumbled, fingers curling in his hair to scratch his scalp. He gave a small hum and pulled away from you again, planting a soft kiss on your cheek as he did.

"Right, and I'd be upset because?" You thought for a while but whatever train of thought you were on was cutoff when you felt him twitching against your ass. "Sweetheart, we can take it slow, you just gotta talk to me."

You inhaled deeply, nodding along as he spoke. "Jamie," you started, "I-I want you to take me... my virginity..." Your voice fell to a mumble, embarrassed at actually saying it out loud, so bluntly as well. Straight to his face.

James smiled up at you. "Alright then." He said, hand going to undo your shorts.

Your face flushed as he did so. "What-what are you doing?" You asked, slight panic slipping into your voice.

"Don't worry, I told you we can take it slow." He assured, closing the gap between you for a moment as he helped you out of your shorts. "But that means I have to get you ready for me, sweetheart, it's not gonna be easy fitting me into you if you're not ready." While it made sense you didn't want to think too much about it.

James continued to pepper your face with kisses as he pushed your panties to the side. He ran a finger through your folds, giving a small hum of approval at how wet you were already. He pushed a finger into you, enjoying the soft gasp that left you when he did.

"Tell me, sweetheart, and be honest." He spoke. "You have touched yourself before, haven't you?" He asked, combing his free hand through your hair.

You hesitated before answering, cheeks already dusted a candy red colour. "Um, I-I have toys..." You mumbled, unable to look him in the eyes as you said it.

James's smile widened. "You do, do you?" He asked. "And when you use them, you think of me don't you?" He questioned further, started to pump his finger in and out of you.

Your breaths grew heavy, eyelids fluttering as his finger moved. "I think of you, Jamie." You said, but it wasn't enough, you were already going this far, you had more to get off your chest. "I-I think of you on top of me, I think of the faces you make and I think of what you sound like... I think of you naked, I think of-of what you'd look like with my-my hand around you... your cock... I think about what it-it looks like when you cum." Once you started you couldn't stop, all the filthy things you'd been thinking about coming out like dirty commandments.

James listened in slight shock, he hadn't known you to be so needy. "Filthy slut." He said with a smile, adding a second digit. "Keep talking." He urged. "I want to hear what else you think of when you're getting yourself off."

The addition of another finger made you whine but he slowed down to let you get used to the stretch. You swallowed thickly and nodded, mentally preparing yourself to continue.

You closed your eyes, letting his fingers resume the same motion, in and out, slow and curling to find what made you tick. "I think ah-about riding you, my-my hands on your chest while you tell me wh-ah- what to do, how-how good I'm doing."

"What kind of toys do you have, sweetheart?" He asked, pulling you from your thoughts. You bit your lip, he wasn't even supposed to know you touched yourself, now he was supposed to know what you're using to do it with? "C'mon, I won't judge." He said, kissing the tip of your nose as his fingers curled in you, making your eyes roll and he knew to hit that spot again.

"They-they're vibrators."

"They?" He repeated. "As in multiple?" Your eyes widened as the realization of what you'd admitted to. "Naughty girl." He curled his fingers again, bringing you closer to your already nearing release.

James added another finger, moving his hand faster now as he scissored your hole in an attempt to prep you for his cock. "When you're alone in bed with your toys, that's how you do it, isn't it?" He asked for confirmation.

You gave it willingly, nodding your head as more moans started falling from your lips.

"You're thinking about me." He continued. "What kind of vibrators?" He asked again. "You've never had anything inside you, sweetheart, right? I'll be the first?" You nodded, his fingers making it hard to focus on anything else. He chuckled as he saw how close you were. "That's it, that's my good girl, cum on my fingers."

Your gut tightened before bursting, your eyes rolled back. Your hands resting on his shoulder clutched his shirt in your fists as you came, a string of curses leaving you.

James groaned lowly at the sight, his fingers still moving in you and letting you ride out your high on them.

As you came down from it, though, he let you melt into him, slowly and carefully shifting you to lay on your back on the mattress. Your head fell back onto his pillow, his scent filling your nose, completely taking you over.

James hovered over you a moment, propping himself between your legs and holding himself up with his hands firmly planted on either side of your head. "Is this what you fantasize about, sweetheart?" You could only nod and let him undress you before following shortly after.

"I'll go slow, so just relax." He said, brushing some of your hair out of your face. "And if, for any reason, you want to stop, tell me. I want to know- I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything for whatever reason, am I understood?" He asked firmly, cupping your cheek in the palm of his hand.

You nodded, staring right back at him as he used his other hand to line himself up with your cunt before pushing in. He did just what he said he would, moving slowly.

He stopped to pepper kisses all over your face and tell you how good you were doing. "That feels good, doesn't it? Feels good when I stretch you out like this." You nodded, arms wrapped around him, hands splayed out on his back.

"You-you're so big." You mumbled, looking down at him in hopes of catching a glimpse of where you both connected. Only, what you saw was a few more inches still needing to be pushed in.

James let out hearty laugh when he saw your eyes widen. "Only halfway, sweetheart, you'll know when I'm balls deep, don't worry."

You slowly relaxed back into the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, mind full. "You're gonna tear me in two." You muttered to no one in particular, James was the only one there to hear and it made him laugh.

"Damn right I am." He agreed. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else, sweetheart, no ones gonna stretch you out like this, no ones gonna make you theirs." His eyes flickered over your face, taking in your expression of wide eyes and the small pout on your lips. "No one else gets to be your first."

In a quick motion he pushed the rest of himself into you, burying his cock deep in your cunt. Your eyes rolled back, hands clawing at his back and making him groan. He looked down, grin only getting bigger as he saw the bulge he made in your stomach.

"No one else gets to do that." He purred, reaching a hand down to press on your stomach. A whine left you as he did, your legs tried to close but he was in the way. "Not so fast, sweetheart, we haven't even gotten started yet."

[crowsofdarkness]

Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Twenty Three

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066 @nameless-ken @minami97

I let out a deep breath while pulling my jacket closer to my chest as I continued the walk down the busy streets of New York City. It was after six in the evening and everyone was rushing to get home to enjoy the rest of their evening while I was trying to make it to the office in time, before he left. 

This wasn’t an easy decision I made, knowing the consequences that could follow. But I didn’t have any other choice. He was the only one that could help me with this.  

The thought of if he would even want to help me did cross my mind a few times, especially with how things ended, but there was a small part of me that hoped his feelings for me were still strong. Strictly to help me with my problem, nothing else. 

I hadn't talked to any of the three men I used to work with, deciding to stay off of social media because I couldn’t bother to see what happened with Bucky and Natasha. By now, he had to have realized that I was right; Natasha was faking the entire pregnancy. 

Yet, I hadn’t heard from him so maybe he still decided to stay with her. 

You told him to stay away. Eight months ago.

Shaking away the thought, I turned the corner and the all too familiar building came into view as with one last deep breath, I pushed through the door and my eyes landed on the person sitting at what used to be my desk. My heart hammered in my chest as his scent filled my senses. 

“Well, it seems like the job isn’t available anymore, huh?” 

He turned around in a haste in the chair, eyes grazing over every inch of me to make sure I had been standing in front of him. 

The last time we talked was a few months ago and we actually hadn’t seen each other since before I quit. He looked the same, hair and beard a bit longer. 

“Hi Steve,” I smiled. 

“Y/N?” 

Steve was quick on his feet to wrap his arms around me and lifted my body off of the ground a few inches. I closed my eyes at the warmth, silently missing him just as much. 

“How have you been?” Steve asked while setting me back onto solid ground. 

I nodded. “Good, I guess. How have things been here?” 

Steve hesitated, his shoulders going stiff. “Have you talked to him at all?” 

This time I shook my head so Steve gently led me to the couch in the main area of the office and we sat next to each other. He scratched at his beard, trying to find the right way to say this. 

“He’s gone rogue the last couple of months. He doesn't need mine or Sam’s help for anything, he takes care of the problems himself.” 

I pointed towards his office. “Is he here?” 

Steve shook his head. “I haven't seen him all day. He called me earlier to say he’s got something to take care of so he’s going to be at Power Brokers tonight.” 

My eyes narrowed. “He hates that club. Why would he go there?” 

“I don’t know,” Steve sighed. “He doesn’t tell Sam or I anything anymore. We only show up here now in case he needs us.” 

“Are he and Nat-?” 

He placed a hand on my knee, stopping the words. “That’s something Bucky has to talk to you about.” 

With a slow nod, I contemplated my next move because I knew that if I went to Power Broker tonight, it would be a disaster from the start. That club was highly known as a black market, people trying to sell you things that you couldn’t buy anywhere else. But if you didn’t agree to it it would be highly unlikely that you would make it back out alive. 

“Are you going to tell me why you showed up tonight?” 

I gave Steve my attention now and shrugged. “Trust me, I would rather go to anyone else with this but Bucky is the only one that can help me.” 

He cupped my cheek. “Please be careful.” 

“Always,” I covered his hand with my own. 

The music of the club vibrated against my bones as I maneuvered my way through the seas of people, who did their best to either dance with me or sell me on their latest project they had hiding in their pocket. I ignored all of them, keeping my focus on finding the one person that I needed. 

When I asked the bouncers outside if they had seen Bucky, they were quick to give him up. 

“He’s been causing problems here all night but refuses to leave. The men we have here isn’t nearly as strong as he is to kick him out.”

I was on high alert, skin tingling with my senses, as I observed the giant open dance floor of the club until some commotion at the bar piqued my interest. I watched as a guy was thrown onto the glass bar top, black and gold fingers wrapped around his throat. 

“Where is she?!” 

The voice was deep, angry, and wanted to know the answers. 

My heart beat intensified as I marveled at how different he looked yet looking exactly the same. The brown leather vest that covered his broad chest was missing a sleeve, his entire vibranium arm on full display.  He didn’t look like a mob boss any longer but more so a soldier. 

The heat pooled between my legs but I squeezed them shut, knowing that now wasn't the time to think about that. 

“I swear, I don’t know where she is! Last I heard, they were in Budapest!” The man struggled for his life under the tight grip around his throat. 

“They were together?” 

The man on the bar nodded, as best he could. “That’s what my guys tell me.” 

As I saw a glimmer of sharp metal emerge from the pocket of the other man's vest, I finally decided to speak up. 

“Bucky.” 

My voice might have been hushed with the background noise of the club but I knew he heard because Bucky looked away from the man he had pinned, his once blue iris now dark stared back at me. The firmness in his body faded with his face softing, as he dropped the man to the floor below. 

“Doll?” 

I swallowed thickly at the old pet name because I couldn't get distracted, I needed to finish what I came for. 

“I need your help,” I admitted with a sigh. 

[secret-moonstruck]

STUCK ON ME | Y.JW | PART 2

— Pairing: Jungwon x fem!reader | Part 01 | (Masterlist)

— Synopsis: When Y/N was with her friend, Jungwon became jealous and possessive. He decided to show who Y/N belonged to. .

— Genre: smut, Horror, bloody

— Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, praising, cum inside, making out, clit play, begging, hickeys, cum eating, overstimulation, gore, death, blood, torture, kidnapping, more. .

Warning: The content may be dangerous. Read at your own discretion.

— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories.

A few weeks have passed since Y/N met Jungwon, at first it was a bit difficult, but now she was getting used to the situation.

She had gone out for drinks with some people from the publishing house to celebrate the sales of her book, among them was Hyun, he was the cute guy who worked there and he always showed interest in Y/N, whenever she went to the publishing house he tried to please her.

When they left the bar, they decided to walk a bit. He was a little drunk and started confessing to Y/N again.

- Why don't you go out with me? - He said, stopping suddenly and turning her towards him.

Before Y/N could say anything, he disappeared. She saw him a short distance away in the alley next door, pinned against the wall with a furious Jungwon choking him.

- What the hell is this? What the hell are you doing? - She ran towards them. - Let him go now, Jungwon.

She ordered, she knew he couldn't disobey an order from her, she had already witnessed how it caused some kind of horrible pain.

However, he didn't let him go; he suffocated him until his body fell to the ground unconscious.

Y/N thought he had killed him, and out of fear, she ended up fainting.

Upon waking up, she still felt a bit dazed, looked around, and saw that she was in some kind of abandoned warehouse. She saw Jungwon sitting on a table reading a book calmly, but when he lowered the book and smiled at her, his face and clothes were covered in blood.

She looked around desperately and saw Hyun unconscious, bloodied, and tied up in a corner of the room.

- Did you kill him? - She asked in despair.

Jungwon rolled his eyes before putting down the book and getting off the table.

- Not yet, my dear. Maybe, if you are very nice, I'll let him live.

He approached Hyun and kicked him to wake him up.

- Where is Y/N? Please, let us go. - Hyun said as soon as he woke up, further irritating Jungwon.

- Who or what do you think you are to try to steal something that is mine? - He lifted him up before throwing him back to the ground.

- Please stop. He is innocent, he didn't do anything. I am yours, okay, you know, you always remind me of that. He has nothing to do with us, let him go. - Y/N pleaded.

A horrible pain coursed through Jungwon's entire body for disobeying her, but it only enraged him even more; she was causing him pain to protect that worm.

Jungwon approached her, lowering himself to her level with a smile that frightened her.

- I know you are mine, but it seems he doesn't know yet, and you seem to have forgotten. - He squeezed her neck, making her stand up. - Maybe I should remind you who you belong to, and show this nothing that you only have one owner.

Still with his hands on her neck, he pulled her face for a kiss full of anger.

- Now, how about you being a good girl? - He pushed her away, and as if it were nothing, dragged the table to where she was.

- Don't touch her, or I'll kill you. - Hyun shouted.

Jungwon went up to him and gagged him, he wanted to kill him, but not before displaying her, not before showing who she belongs to.

Leaning against the table, he ordered her to come closer, she obeyed out of fear.

- Suck me, like the good slut you are, show him what he'll never have.

Trembling, Y/N did as he commanded, kneeling in front of him. She tried to open his pants, but she was trembling too much. He got irritated and took off his clothes by himself, his cock already hard, waiting to be sucked.

Y/N looked at Hyun, who was struggling to break free, before turning their attention back to Jungwon.

With tears in her eyes, she touched him, pumping it before running her tongue over the tip covered with pre-cum, eliciting a moan from him. She licked his length a few times before putting it in her mouth, starting to suck it, but he needed more, he pushed everything in, making her gag.

Jungwon held her by the hair while pushing deep into her throat. The sight of her crying, choking on his cock, excited him even more; he pulled out of her lips and came all over her face.

- Come here dear. - He said, helping her to stand up and bringing her closer to Hyun. He pushed her in front of him, holding her face firmly to confront Hyun.

- Isn't she beautiful covered in my cum? - He smiled frighteningly as he said that.

- Do you know how she becomes more beautiful? When she's moaning desperately for me to fuck her. - Upon saying this, he bit Y/N's neck.

Y/N shuddered at the initial pain of the bite, but soon it was exactly as he wanted, moans escaping her lips mixed with her heavy breathing. Her legs tightening as she began to feel aroused.

Hyun looked horrified as Jungwon drank Y/N's blood. Jungwon easily tore her dress, and did the same with her underwear, before running his fingers over Y/N's pussy.

- You really are a slut, how can you already be so wet? You really get turned on by having your blood sucked, don't you?

Desperate moans escaped Y/N's lips as Jungwon's fingers worked on her pussy. She no longer cared about anything else, she just wanted more.

- Yes, yes, please, Jungwon, I love this, more, please.

Despite being scared, Hyun was starting to get excited seeing Y/N in that state. It was wrong, everything there was wrong, but he couldn't help it.

- Look Y/N, he likes what he sees. - Jungwon continued his movements while rubbing her clitoris with his other hand. - Come on, darling, cum for me already, let's go.

She shuddered, Jungwon's voice both sweet and venomous pushing her to orgasm, she came on his fingers, just as he wanted.

He raised his hand, displaying it with a smile before licking his fingers, while moaning in pleasure.

Y/N knew it wasn't over yet, Jungwon picked her up, she was still trembling when he set her down on the table.

He saw her tired face, her eyes red from crying. He wiped her face, which was still covered in his cum.

- You don't know how beautiful you look like this, all messed up. - He said, caressing her face. His fingers running over her face and neck. - It just makes me want you even more.

He said before biting her again, while pushing his painful cock into her wet pussy.

Y/N gasped in surprise when she felt him enter her so suddenly. If it weren't for him holding her, she would have already collapsed on the table while he mercilessly pounded inside her, the sound echoing through the room.

- J... Jungwon, please! I want, I need. - Y/N was begging for their liberation.

Hearing Y/N's pleas, Jungwon couldn't hold back and came, painting the inside of Y/N, who not long after also reached their orgasm.

Jungwon pulled away from Y/N, watched for a few seconds as her pussy leaked before starting to lick it, holding her thighs firmly. While sucking every drop, his claws tore into Y/N's thighs, who screamed with a mix of pain and pleasure, still very sensitive from the previous orgasm. She buckled, trembling, when she came again, this time more intensely than the others, covering Jungwon's face, who savored every drop before releasing her with an arrogant smile, while Y/N collapsed on the table, her breath still uneven.

She had already forgotten about Hyun, but when she remembered and looked in his direction, her eyes widened in panic.

Jungwon, already dressed, was holding Hyun by the neck with his hand inside his chest.

- No! - Y/N shouted, a desperate scream, a scream that caused an unbearable pain in Jungwon, he had already endured too much pain disobeying her that night.

With a quick movement, Jungwon pulled his hand back, covered in blood, with Hyun's heart in it. Blood splattering across his face, while the most terrifying smile Y/N could imagine was on his face.

He threw Hyun's body to the ground and went to Y/N. The pain of disobedience was torturous, but the anger was greater.

- This is so you never forget that you belong solely to me. - He held her by the shoulders. - And remember that I will never allow you to get close to any man again. I am the only one for whom you should exist. You are mine, and you must never forget that.

The panic that was etched on Y/N's face was replaced by a dark smile, which left Jungwon confused.

- What? Why are you smiling? - He said, releasing her.

Y/N pulled Jungwon close, tilting their head while still smiling.

- You look so sexy like this. - She pushed him away while assessing how he was covered in blood, eyes shining, his expression full of rage. She loved it.

- Y/N said while getting dressed. - Just thinking about having to put up with him every time I entered that building. Aaaah, so annoying.

Jungwon was confused, why was she acting like this when just a moment ago she was crying for him to spare Hyun?

- You know, Jungwon, I was kind of missing the feeling from when we first met, how you seemed so cruel that night. I wanted to see that side of you again, so I decided to combine two useful things. I could have fun and also get rid of something annoying.

- You are a psychopath. - Jungwon didn't know if he found her scary or amazing.

- Oh, no, of course not. I'm just a defenseless woman trapped by a sadistic vampire. - She said with a false fear on her face before approaching him with a smile and kissing him.

— Note2: Sorry if it's not good, I'll try to improve it.

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Easier

Player 001 x reader [Fluff]

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

“Gi-Hun” you groaned as he took your bottle of water, holding it above your head.

“Come on, just grab it” he chuckled. “Or are you too short?” He faked the pensive thought before smiling again.

“Big brother” you drawled. “When I get out of here, I swear, I’m kicking your ass.” You say, putting your hands on your hips.

“Well, if we play one more game, you might end up dumber than you already are.” He chuckled, poking your ribs.

“No stupider than you” you stuck your tongue out. Gi-hun was your older brother, you honestly hadn’t spoken to him in a while, since you went off to university. He was still annoying.

“Well, dummy, you ended up here due to your poor money choices” he countered. The grim scenario now a joke as you fought. Young il, coming up behind you, reaching over your head for that bottle.

“Thanks Young-“ you reached for it before he threw it up to Gi-Hun engaging you in a game of Monkey in the Middle. “Come on guys!” You pouted.

“What, bunny? You gonna cry?” Young il teased.

“No, stupid head.” You spit back.

“Me? A stupid head? No way” he poked you as you reached for your water bottle, jumping as high as you could but not being able to reach.

“Hey, look at that stupid girl!” The purple haired guy snickered from behind you with his idiot friend. “Can’t even reach her water bottle” he walked closer to you.

“Leave me alone moron” you say before turning back to Gi-Hun for your water bottle. Thanos grabbed your arm, spinning you around.

“What did you say? Bitch?” He asked, his breath dusting your face. You cringed.

“I called you a moron.” You say as you reach for your nose. “Also, your breath smells so awful, back up like, 10 feet so i can actually breathe” you say, sass lacing your voice. He cocked his arm back, Gi-Hun and Young il stepping to be in front of you. You stuck your tongue out at Thanos from behind the two men in front of him.

“What’s up, freaks?” Thanos laughs as the two men looked at him with stoic expressions.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Putting your hands on her like that” Gi-hun asks.

“I’m just messing with her” he tries to play off.

“Didn’t look like playing to me” Young il says calmly.

“Well- i just- i mean “ Thanos stuttered over his words.

“Let me make this easy for you, since you seem to not have a brain” Gi-Hun begins. “If you put your hands on her again`, i swear, you’ll have a worse punishment than being shot” Gi-Hun threatened in a low voice. Before anyone had a chance to say another word, Young il punched him in the face.

“Get the fuck out of here” Young il shouted heatedly, kicking him in the stomach making him fall.

“Yeah get the fuck out” Gi-Hun pointed past him as he scooted backwards before standing and running off. You ran to the aid of Young il, grabbing his hand and inspecting it.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? How’s your hand?” You ask rapidly. You ripped off your jacket, wrapping it around his fist. He smiled softly. He removed it, handing your jacket back to you.

“Yes, I’m okay. No, I’m not hurt” he chuckles lightly at your pressing concern.

“(Y/n), you know he’s a grown man right-“ you slapped Gi-Huns chest shutting him up.

“I didn’t see you punch him, Big brother” you rolled your eyes. You led Young il back to your bed.

You guys were beginning to barricade your side, predicting that they were going to start a fight in the middle of the night. Without some push back, Young il agreed to let Gi-Hun take the first shift.

“You know, you’re so beautiful (y/n)” Young il said as he brushed hair from your face. You giggled. “Why are you laughing? I’m serious” he gave a smile.

“Because, I dunno, I just like hearing you say my name” you giggled shyly.

“(Y/n), (y/n), (y/n)” he said quickly, tickling you gently making you burst out in laughter. He shushed you gently, laughing himself. “Shhhh, you’re gonna wake people up, and Gi-Huns gonna come over here worrying, and get mad that we’re all cuddled up together.”

“Oh shut up, he’s just my brother.” You say, lightly pushing him.

“I dont knowww” he trailed. “He did tell a guy he’d kill him if he touched you again”

“Well, that only applies to that one guy” you say looking at his lips. “You’re an exception.”

“Oh am i?” He says grinning as he pulled you closer to him. His lips just inches from yours.

“Yeah, you are” you tell him before he gently attached him lips to yours. You smile into the kiss as you feel his hand sneak itself under your shirt and around to your back to rub your it. You copied his motion as you rubbed his chest. He didn’t look fit in that baggy sweat suit, but you were tracing his abs gently. He smiled as your hand laced in his hair as he shifted to get more on top of you. Your light moans as you kissed were setting him on fire. He got off of you.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just… getting excited” he says shyly. You laughed, cupping his face.

“It’s okay, pretty boy.” You say. “ I think it’s supposed to get easier to get excited when you’re kissing a girl you really like.” You kiss him.

“Mmm like?”

“Yeah?” You reply confused.

“I was thinking love” he shrugs.

“Love is perfect.” You cut him off. Kissing him one last time before curling into his chest to sleep. His wrapped his arms around you, sighing with content.

“I love you” he declares aloud.

“I love you” you return.

“Too?” He inquires.

“No, the word ‘too’ means in addition, or also. I love you.” You tell him with a yawn. He opened his mouth making a quiet ‘oh’ motion.

“Well then, love is love. I love you.” He repeated.

“I love you more” you return, grinning. He smiled as he laid down. Letting sleep overcome him.

Tag list

@christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21

[cyberhughes]

— 𝓣𝓸𝓸 𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ quinn hughes

🌊 chapter: feeling scandalous

last chapter | next chapter

*:･✧* 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: quinn hughes x fem!oc

*:･✧* 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: swearing, luke and jack are flirty but it’s all platonic, suggestive content(nothing too spicy yet🌚)

𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: hey guys omfg…i’m so sorry this took so long I’ve been so busy😭😭uni is stressing me out so bad beyond belief but we ball!! this chapter is so shit cause lowkey its a filler just to build up more tension before we start getting *actually* juicy. this was also lowkey not rlly proofread LMAO. ALSO ALSO ALSO… we are almost at 200 followers?? wtf?? i didn’t even realize i had hit 100 im sorry i love you all so much and i appreciate all the love and support you’ve given me <3 perhaps i will plan a little surprise for you all later 😛

series masterlist + character intros

“WAKEY WAKEY!” the curtains were ripped open by jack, causing luke and aurora to shield themselves under the covers from the abrupt sunlight.

“what the fuck! close it!” luke complained, snuggling himself further into the warmth of the bedsheets. meanwhile, jack tiptoed to the foot of their bed, before mischievously yanking their blankets of off them.

“up and at em, let’s not waste a good boat day!” he stood there proudly, hands on his hips with a shit eating grin plastered across his face, not caring that he had just ruined their chance of a peaceful morning.

“later.” luke groaned, moving to pull aurora close to him, seeking at least the warmth from her body. “oh my god get off of me, i’m up.” she wiggled herself out of his arms and he whined.

she pushed past jack, him snorting at her hair being messy as well as her shirt hanging off one shoulder. “good morning to you too sleeping beauty.” he laughed—a bit too hard—at his own joke, while she stuck her tongue out at him before continuing her way the the washroom to freshen up.

as she stood there brushing her teeth, she couldn’t help but think back to her interactions with quinn yesterday. he had told her she didn’t do anything wrong, but she knew something was off with him. she knew that everyone else felt the tension too, she just couldn’t figure out why it was there in the first place.

she didn’t want to let this sour her trip, she was here for her brother after all. she’d just have to find a way for quinn to warm up to her again.

she creeped back into her and luke’s shared room, suppressing a laugh when she found him fast asleep again.

from her suitcase, she grabbed a bathing suit—that she didn’t remember packing? she held up the pieces straight, trying to remember when she had bought it. she dug through her luggage some more, looking for the one she knew she packed but it wasn’t anywhere to be seen. she sat back on her heels, puzzled.

then it clicked. she had remembered her best friend from california—kaylee—peeking through her suitcase a few days before they had left for their trip. she let out a groan, making a mental note to scold her friend later.

she examined the fabric once again and placed it against her body.

this wasn’t going to cover anything.

“wow, that’s tiny.” she heard luke mumble from the bed and her eyes widened, face going red.

“go back to sleep, idiot.”

“i look like a prostitute.” aurora said nodding with her lips pressed into a thin line as she rested her phone on the bathroom counter. she was currently on facetime with kaylee, the one who had put her in this situation.

“no, you look hot. you have to let quinn see that you got hot.” kaylee said with a fat grin on her face as she watched her bestfriend adjust and pull at the fabric of the bikini in a failed attempt to get some more coverage.

“it was so awkward yesterday kaylee.” aurora whined and grabbed her phone to position her face in frame. “he barely talked to me, and the one time he did, it felt like he would’ve rather been anywhere else.”

“then don’t let it be awkward the fuck? just, be flirty or something.” kaylee spoke nonchalantly.

“yeah no, i think he still sees me as a kid.”

“so then show him that you’re a hot woman now, i’m really struggling to see the problem here rory. just flash him your tits or something.” aurora’s cheeks went red at her friends words. “oh my god, stop it.” she mumbled as the girl on the other side of the phone cackled.

“i gotta go now, we’re going on the lake in a bit.” she took one last look in the mirror before throwing on her t-shirt and shorts. “okay bye rory. but seriously just flash a ti—“ aurora hung up before she could finish the sentence.

she couldn’t help but think that maybe kaylee was right, not about needing to flash her boobs, but about trying to make quinn see that she wasn’t a kid anymore. maybe it wasn’t the fact that she still had a crush on him, but rather that she felt the need to prove herself. although yes, she did still have a little big crush on him.

she felt slight twinge of guilt as she thought, it was her brother’s wedding weekend and here she was plotting on his best man. it was wrong.

but that’s what made it kind of exciting.

aurora stepped out onto the patio, breathing in the summer air and taking in the view of lake. the view was stunning, the backyard almost fully set up with decorations for the wedding. to put it shortly, it felt magical. in the distance, she saw everyone, asides from the parents who were out golfing, settling onto the boat.

“hurry up slowpoke!” luke cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling out. aurora rolled her eyes, adjusted the strap of her tote bag which was chronically falling down, and headed towards the boat.

“good morning.” she smiled as she passed quinn who was carrying a cooler of drinks. she paused her stride to notice the veins that popped out of his arms, and wow the way his hands looked as he gripped the handle and—

“morning, rory.” he said with a soft smile and she felt her stomach drop like she was on a rollercoaster, did he notice her checking him out?

“did you sleep okay last night?” he didn’t look up as he stepped into the boat, setting the cooler down and then offering his hand out to help her in.

she felt like she was having whiplash, he was acting normal now? she took his hand and stepped in, “yeah it was great. lukey’s a snorer though.” she laughed and he nodded. she had to hide a frown as he let go of her hand.

“are you shit talking me right now?” luke walked over with his arms crossed, looking down at aurora through his sunglasses. “yeah, we’re shit talking you severely, i hate you so much.” she gave a sarcastic smile and scooted past him to greet melissa.

luke scoffed, “pft, she loves me. couldn’t keep her hands off me last night.” he said jokingly as he rested his hands on the back of his head, not noticing how quinn didn’t laugh, only pressing his lips into an awkward smile.

“oh gross, luke.” ashton smacked the top of his head, luke pouting as he fixed his cap.

“that was you who couldn’t keep your hands off!” aurora protested as melissa giggled beside her. she rolled her eyes then turned to fully face her soon to be sister in law. “so, are you starting to get nervous or anything?” aurora questioned and she shrugged.

“i don’t think i’m really that nervous,” she began, flipping her sunglasses up to rest on the top of her head. “am i nervous that it could rain or i could trip and fall walking? yeah of course, but I’ve never once felt nervous about marrying your brother, i actually can’t wait.” she blushed and aurora could feel her heart melting, she admired their relationship so much. it was something about they way they spoke about each other, like it was always meant to be.

“alright guys, we ready to go?” quinn asked and everyone cheered, excited to spend the day in the sun before the chaos of the wedding began.

“COWABUNGA!” jack launched himself off the edge of the boat, earning complaints from the group as he splashed water everywhere.

“idiot…” aurora chuckled as she stared down at her clothes which were now soaked, it was to be expected, they were having a lake day afterall.

she whipped her head at the sound of stomping coming towards her and melissa, to which she found her brother getting a running start to jump in, luke following not far behind.

“wow so much for curling my hair.” melissa joked, stepping out of her sundress and heading over to the side, letting ashton help her down.

“come on you two!” ashton exclaimed from the water, waiting on aurora and quinn.

aurora bit her lip, here goes nothing. she first took off her shorts, throwing them on top her her tote, then peeled off her shirt, revealing the bikini kaylee had planted. it was honestly a really nice bikini, the lack of coverage was where the problem lied.

from behind her, quinn could be seen with his jaw clenched, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he took in the sight. to most, his expression could be mistaken for annoyance or anger, but that wasn’t quite what was happening here.

she looked back over her shoulder, offering quinn a small smile as her cheeks turned a soft pink, “coming, quinn?”

her smile faltered when she noticed his expression. shit- was he mad? maybe he was mad that she was practically naked, after all they weren’t the only group out on the lake. there were other families boating and swimming around.

she snapped out of her thoughts when she heard jack whistle, “damn, looking good rory!” he cackled, before ashton splashed him in the face. “i’m serious you guys, that’s my baby sister, stop being fucking creeps.” he scoffed.

aurora jumped in and lingered under the water, wanting to hide the way her cheeks burned in embarrassment, not from jack’s comment, but rather at the fact that she had upset quinn.

for the rest of the day, they had spent their time swimming around, wakeboarding, munching on the delicious charcuterie board melissa had prepared, and playing some card games. it had been the perfect way for the soon to be married couple to relax before becoming fully preoccupied with their wedding, not forgetting to express their gratitude to quinn every chance they got.

they were now headed back to the house, in time to meet their parents for a nice dinner. aurora had her head rested on luke’s shoulder as she was being lulled to sleep from the soft rocking of the boat, as well as being exhausted from the day’s activities.

after a rather silent but calm ride, they had made it back to the dock, their parents being seen lounging on the patio enjoying a few drinks.

the group had gathered their things and headed towards the house, not noticing the way aurora stalled to gather her things as she watched quinn bustle around.

“you ready to go?” he asked, expression blank as he stood on the dock, reaching his hand out. the sight reminiscent of the interaction they had shared that morning.

she nodded, placing her hand in his, and it seemed to fit perfectly. she stepped over but didn’t notice the small puddle of water on the step and her eyes went wide as she slipped into him, for the second time in the past two days.

she gulped as they stood chest to chest, her hands rested on his shoulders as his own resting on her arms to stabilize her. she didn’t pull away, instead looking up at him with her mouth slightly agape in shock. her heart thumped in her chest and she was sure he could feel it as she gazed into his eyes, being met with that unrecognizable look she had seen yesterday.

he stared into her eyes, also at a loss for words. his eyes flickered down at the contact between them, the way her chest had been pressed onto him for longer than it should have. abruptly he let go of her arms, letting her stand on her own.

“quinn, i’m sorry-“

“you’re good.” he mumbled before grabbing his things and practically booking it away and back to the house.

she ran her hands through her hair. great, not only did she embarrass him in front of everyone with her bikini, but now she had fallen onto him a second time.

way to seduce him, aurora.

the soft breeze blowing through bedroom curtains was all that could be heard throughout the night, before it was abruptly interrupted by knocking on wood. quinn’s eyes slowly peeled open when he heard the noise at his door. he peeked over at his phone that rested on his bedside table.

2:17 am.

the knocking continued and he sighed, getting up from the warmth of his bed and shuffling over to open the door. assuming it was one of his brothers, he immediately let out a sharp “what do you want?”

but to his surprise, it was aurora standing on the other side of his door.

“‘m sorry.” she whispered softly and he shook his head “no, i thought you were jack or luke. what’s up?” he gazed down at her and his eyebrows furrowed. why the hell she still wearing her bikini?

“couldn’t sleep.” she stepped into his room, closing the door behind her, leaning back on it as she look up at him with hooded eyes. his eyes widened as he stood frozen, watching her begin to creep toward him like a cat getting ready to pounce on a mouse.

“can you help me sleep, quinny?” she whispered, rising onto her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck.

his breath hitched when he felt her lips graze against his ear. “need you to help me, quinny.”

he felt chills run down his spine, what the fuck was happening? this was so wrong. he should have told her to back off, he shouldn’t have let her get that close, but god the way her cold fingers felt as she grazed them back down his shoulders, down to his chest, stomach, the waistband of his shorts—

“WAKE UP, QUINTIN! WE HAVE A LOT TO DO!” ashton’s voice boomed on the other side of his door as he shot up, hairline slightly drenched with sweat, breathing heavy as he looked around his room. he ran a hand over his face and groaned before peeking down at the tent in his shorts.

no fucking way.

[sexhaver]

if your reaction to Musk pushing for more H1B visas is "wow the hitler salute guy accidentally did something good, this will be good for immigrants who get these visas" and not "hm, the richest guy on earth wants to expand a program that lets companies like his (and also literally his company in particular) hire immigrants in a way that gives the companies all the leverage and effectively stops those workers from exercising any of their labor rights (or even just switching to a better job) under threat of deportation, and he's also part of a White House that has been super vocally anti-immigration. perhaps there is some ulterior motive to this announcement and his proposed changes to the program that will result in these H1B immigrants getting taken advantage of" then you need to, idk, read the news more? stop taking fascists at face value? think about why fascists would support immigration specifically in the labor sector while physically blocking it everywhere else?

my issue with Musk proposing an expansion of the H1B program has not, and has never been, "competition" from immigrants. this job market is already horrendous, H1Bs are a drop in the bucket in that regard and anyone seriously mad that an immigrant "stole their job" is either racist or falling for racist propaganda. my issue is the opposite: if i and an H1B holder both get hired for the exact same job, they will be making a fraction of my salary (because of their immigrant status) with none of the protections against labor violations or even the ability to just walk away and work somewhere else (again, because of their immigrant status). they're doing the same work as me (better, actually, to qualify for a green card) and yet they're getting paid less and treated worse because they're an immigrant.

and in theory you can counter this with "okay but it's worth it for them to put up with that because after a few years they'll be a citizen and able to make the big bucks with labor protections too", but here's the thing: a fascist White House talking out one side of their mouth about issuing more H1Bs and making them cheaper, while simultaneously ranting about "closing the border" and sending Fox News teams out on ICE raids the day after inauguration, is not a White House that has any intention of letting these visa holders become citizens. big companies are overwhelmingly going to use these new H1Bs as a way to hire people, string them along for a while while underpaying and overworking them, and then find some reason to not give them a green card at the end of the process. formerly the incentive for companies not to do that was all the overhead fees associated with the H1B itself, but oh look, Musk wants to reduce those too.

like, yeah, i get it, the process of becoming a US citizen is a nightmare designed to be hostile and let in as few people as possible. the solution to that is absolutely not to let ELON FUCKING MUSK, the RICHEST MAN ON EARTH, rework + expand H1Bs. do you really trust him to handle that in a way that results in anyone but him and his friends winning. do you expect the average H1B holder experience to end in citizenship under Trump's administration. do you really.

[atangledfate]

She tried her best to get to known Duo, learning about his past and why he came to them in the first place. It didn't help that the lad was pretty jumpy and a bit timid. But in training he seemed to catch on real fast and, was always on point when she needed him. It had been a rough that first day but she'd come to rely on him somewhat. He was calmer then tangle and more personable then Whisper. Lanolin had really sort of taken to the kid, though she always felt he was hiding something. Everyone had there secrets right?

Walking through the library it really was a grand place. It reminded her so much of the archive at restoration only less work and more a place of learning. She could probably have gotten lost here for hours and not even realized. Though she was happy to find whisper in a corner with a stack of books she'd picked out. Though the two nearly missed her the way she could blend in even here was earie at times. The wolf watched the two pass by with an eye peeking open though didn't interrupt the two in there task.

" Well... whisper is where she said she'd be... not to surprising. Looks like she's found something of interest... let's check on Tangle... Honestly more worried about her then i am anyone else... "

================================================

Back in the Magic section Tangle gripped the big lizards hand Gentle knowing her Tail could easily CRUSH steel and bend titanium! The last thing she wanted to do was accidently hurt somebody! She was pretty good about controlling her strength though! her bright smile and up beat demeanor had always led her to easily making friends, and being a jot to be around. Like a ray of sunshine, people did seem to flock to her.

" Oh WoW second big royal type i've met! What are the odds..."

She rubbed the back of her neck a little surprised he'd wanna see her in action! though she guessed they were as curious about them as the other way around.

" Heh, You'd be the second Sensei i'd picked up in as many weeks! I'm sure Mighty wouldn't mind, he's always saying i should keep pushing my limits! But i wouldn't mind... Long as the boss sheep is ok with it..."

" Oh my tail? Eh well its pretty special! not even my brother can do what i can with mine! We mobians are sometimes born with gifts. Sonic got his speed, Lani can control sound! and i got a super stretchy tail! in retrospect... guess i got the weird power! "

============================================

Lanolin crossed her arms from here they could see Sedan and Tangle talking and, they seemed just fine. Though she did wonder who they were exactly. But by Tangle's body language she was enjoying the conversation. Which only left Duo missing, and that kind of worried her. Her hand on her chin as she looked across the magic section and back across the rest of the library. Yet before she could get to worried a gentle tap on her back made the sheep let out a cute BAA! in shock! causing both her hands to clamp over her mouth! well that was embarassing!

" AH! "

She whirled around to find Duo reeled back as if he'd done something wrong! clutching a book in front of him! how he managed to sneak up on them was a mystery, and yet there he was a history book on application of magic in every day life.

" ah---umm Ma'am... sorry you walked right past me, an i heard my name an--- ah are you ok? "

Reyna could see that, Duo seemed to have a steady head on his shoulders. Plus, there was the fact hopefully Whisper could help them as well.

"Hopefully he'll be alright then. I'll trust your stance on him." She says nodding. She doesn't see Tangle in fiction, but it's pretty close to magic. So she leads Lanolin down that way, figuring that the Lemur might have tried to head there instead. They would pass through the sections Whisper and Duo were in too, so it was a win win.

Sadan is impressed by the dexterity with the tail. Very few people have such skill, even if it's clear this isn't a normal tail by any means. He shakes it happily, very interested in this Lemur already.

"Sadan, Emperor of the Ancient Empire. A pleasure to make your acquaintance Tangle. If you seek a teacher, I'm sure I could find time to give you a lesson or two. I, for one, would like to see your own skill in action. Very few can use their tails with such dexterity after all." He introduces himself, admitting his admiration.

As they don't see Duo, Reyna feels confused. She was expecting Tangle to move, especially since fiction wouldn't offer as much insight as magic. However, she wasn't thinking Duo would be somewhere else.

"Huh. Where do you think Duo went?" She asks Lanolin. The sheep would know the cat better than her, so it'd be wise to ask.

[the-overanalyst]

with my post-ena5 understanding of mizuki's character, i've tried reexamining her key moments through that lens. that's what led me to the questions i'll try to answer here: what was mizuki feeling during the rooftop scene (the original one) and did ena's declaration there actually do her more harm than good?

the reason the rooftop scene is so important is because it changes mizuki's motivation. she infamously says "i lied to her," but it doesn't end up being a lie. all the way through this event, her goal was still to keep her secret under wraps. but from this point forward, her goal is to find the courage to share her secret.

it's comparable to how ena's motivations switches from seeking validation to seeking self improvement thanks to kanade's kind gesture in insatiable pale color. in that case, it's clearly a good thing: one need was met so she could focus on another further up maslow's hierarchy. mizuki's situation, unfortunately, is more complicated.

to explain why, we need to address mizuki's defining internal conflict. her desire for meaningful lasting connection is at war with her self-loathing and guilt. so when ena says she'll wait forever, part of mizuki is elated. as she almost admitted out loud, she wants to keep seeing the cherry blossoms together with n25.

at the end of secret distance, having accepted that n25 is important to her, mizuki was faced with a choice. she could either have genuine friendship, or she could keep her secret. once we get to footprints, it's clear she's chosen the latter. that's why her first shock in the scene comes when ena calls her a "friend." whether or not she thinks she deserves it, and despite her best attempts to sabotage its formation, the friendship exists. and the others are trying to make it last.

but mizuki pushes back. she insists ena can't really mean forever, she warns her it could be a really long time. implicitly, she's trying to tell her "i'm not worth it." this is the ugly side of the rooftop scene. because now that ena has made her dedication so clear, there's no way for mizuki to escape her guilt.

so what's the point? aside from making us all cry, what did this scene accomplish?

well, i've hinted at it already, but this the scene that makes mizuki realize, "i want to tell her. i have to tell her." sure, for a moment, it crosses her mind that ena would stay her friend forever if she simply didn't tell her, but even the thought makes her feel like an awful person. continuing on like that was never really an option. even if she doesn't know it by the end of the scene, she now has the motivation and will someday have the courage to move forward.

before this, she saw ena more the way mafuyu sees shizuku or others from school: she'll never really know me because i don't let the mask slip in front of her. afterwards, she sees her the way mafuyu sees kanade: she's trying for me, so i have to try too.

of course, she's still delaying and deflecting out of a desire to keep things the same, but one way or another, the "distance" arc is over. it's a gradual process from here, but as we see in world link and in mafu5, she really is trying.

in the grand scheme of things, i have to argue that ena's declaration had a net positive effect. mizuki's chronic nemesis is stagnation. painful or not, the rooftop scene forces her to make an effort to change. without it, she never would have found the genuine, trusting connections and unconditional love she now knows she has.