#i have to stop here i have to make another post.

[wardensantoineandevka]

There's been a lot of talk about feeling like Campaign 3 fails to carry through consequences, and that is often met with criticisms framing this talk as just wanting Bells Hells or other characters to die or be punished. In return, the response to that is that "consequences" is not necessarily negative — it simply means a narrative follow through and events positive, neutral, or yes even negative happening as a consequence of what came prior.

I posted prior about what I and many meant by consequences, but generally, "a lack of consequence" means that it feels like events happen without clear connective tissue to previous events or it feels like things happen and don't feel like they're feeding properly into what comes next, that following events aren't properly carrying that weight of consequence.

But, just to further illustrate the discussion, the following is a non-exhaustive list of things I personally wish had consequences (that I could be probably better articulating):

Prism, Deanna, and FRIDA going off to do research at the Cobalt Soul, explicitly intending to try to help Bells Hells. This yielded nothing. Even a written letter to the Hells giving any information would have been great to have as a nod to that decision being made and the effort put into cultivating those friendships. (Given the reveal in the Fireside Chat that a Luxon beacon could've destroyed Predathos should research have been done, this feels even more of a missed follow through.)

The Unseelie Court not reinforcing the Malleus Key having clearer consequences. Obviously, there was a benefit to this, but it's hard to FEEL the consequences of disrupting that message because it is not clear what exactly the Unseelie Court would have provided.

Liliana chose not to broadcast the Downfall memory and what that meant to the sociopolitical scale. There is a clear consequence for her on a personal level, but this information being potentially broadcast was set up as a big looming threat, but it was difficult to really feel what would have happened, like, meaningfully, in terms of the material narrative as it affects Bells Hells, if it was broadcast, so as a result it's difficult to feel that stopping the broadcast was meaningful on a broader level.

Talking about Liliana, it feels strange that she exists within Vasselheim as a top leader of the Ruby Vanguard for, like, days without any comment. There is more (and properly delivered) tension over Opal's presence in the city. I don't think Liliana necessarily should've been arrested, I felt something like a small beat that may have required Imogen vouching for her was missing. The consequences of Liliana's position among the antagonists felt absent.

Ashton getting Shady Sally to agree to get the Nobodies back together to help save Exandria, then they'd all be free of Ashton for good. Nothing comes of this! An appearance at the forward camp in the Hellcatch when they came back from Ruidus or in Vasselheim, after the camp is evacuated there, with another opportunity to settle it with the others in the group would have been a nice consequence.

The Grim Verity, especially outside of Ryn, continued to meaningfully exist and the theft of the texts from Vasselheim mattered past the Predathos, Vordo, and Ethedok reveal exposition. It was a team of three people who stole the texts, and one of them, Arnold, was captured and presumed still held at the Platinum Sanctuary and another, Janina, was keeping tabs on the excavation site in the Hellcatch to keep everyone updated on what the Vanguard was doing. It would have been nice to see the Grim Verity more involved in this campaign, because they're the initial hook into the campaign itself! Learning about them and making contact with them stopped yielding any sort of narrative results. (The thing about research in the first point applies here too.)

Judicators. They are introduced, and then nothing is done with them at all. They factor in so minutely, and we understand so little about them, that it's hard to even talk about them as thematic pieces without engaging in a lot of speculative thinking.

I am known to be frustrated with Ashton philosophically, but I am baffled that the conversation they had in their vision in the earth titan in 110 did not come up again at all in any of their subsequent argumentations about the world changing. I am certain that it would've driven me nuts, but I have liked to see that carried forward. It would've contributed a lot to feeling like perspectives were being built upon as a consequence of interactions.

Generally, the Titans are barely mentioned after that episode, btw. There was a lot of time spent on pursuing the idea of the Titans, even sometimes outright brushing past NPCs who repeatedly said that the Titans were dead, only for it to get dropped so suddenly. It feels especially strange when one of the major points of contention Ashton and Laudna brought up was the war against the Titans. Not even a final note about what this means in the tapestry of history or an acknowledgement that they indeed cannot be restored as they were or what? We spent a lot of time on this discussion, but fail to carry it through into the final thematic and philosophical decisions.

On that note, it's established that there is a destiny in which Ashton is to bestow the spark onto another, and there is a sense of fate then for Fearne in it. Since they both struggle with being locked into a path, I did feel missing an exploration of what it then MEANT for them to pursue this. As soon as these abilities are unlocked, there isn't a meaningfully thorough exploration of what they mean as narrative devices and their implications for Fearne and Ashton, at a personally transformative level.

The anti-resurrection toxin and its antidote. I know that it is used against Keyleth and there is a payoff in that the Hells successfully help her, but I don't understand why this toxin didn't continue to be used, especially given the campaign was supposed to be deadlier. Why wouldn't the Ruby Vanguard, but especially someone as vicious and ruthless as Otohan, continue to use it? It had such a prominent presence in the campaign and then vanished from it. We don't even have a sense of how it locked away divine magic and what connection it has to Ruidians or Predathos, which have similar divine dampening ability. Having it continue to be used in the campaign would've also made it continually rewarding that Bells Hells did that work to help Keyleth because the Air Ashari would have available antidote.

Stopping there not because I ran out of examples, but because this list is getting incredibly long — thought I reserve the right to add more later should I think of really good ones. But this is just some of the plot points and threads and conversations that I wish I felt led somewhere or had consequences, and you can see that not all of them are about punishing characters at all, just a desire for things to feel like they were going somewhere and were properly tied off.

[ducktoo]

Again

IVE’s Jang Wonyoung x M!Reader

Note: I have resorted to the sacred prompt list by Anon again….this helped me so much frrr. Hope you will post your first ever fic here so I can tagged you!!

This concludes the unofficial (or official ig) IZ*ONE marathon. @hyeyulenjoyer hope this was a fun ride for you. And thank you everyone for enjoying these fics as well! Also appreciate IVE for paying respect to the recent tragedy. All the dumb haters who find ways to hate them again....just touch grass pls.

(this was the perfect picture for this fic lol)

The tickets sit on your desk, undisturbed, their glossy surface catching the dim glow of your bedside lamp. You don’t even need to read the text printed on them anymore. The details are already burned into your brain.

A fan sign.

It was supposed to be special. The kind of thing you looked forward to for weeks, marked on your calendar with a little star. You were supposed to show up, tease her about messing up choreography, make her laugh in the middle of a serious performance, see that look in her eyes that was just for you.

Now, the tickets feel like a joke.

Your phone is face-down beside them, dark screen hiding the messages you haven't opened yet—the well-meaning texts from friends, the casual work notifications. All messages except from her.

Wonyoung.

You close your eyes, but it doesn't help. The memory of your last call with her is still fresh, the words playing over and over like a song stuck on repeat.

"I just don’t have time for this anymore."

"For us, you mean?"

"Mhm."

The way she said it—calm, measured, like it was just another item to tick off on her to-do list—had made something inside you crack. There had been no anger in her voice. No hesitation.

That…hurt more than anything.

You had wanted to say something, anything to make her stop. To remind her of the nights spent whispering over the phone until she fell asleep, of the rare moments when she let herself be vulnerable with you, of the way she would light up the second she saw you waiting for her backstage to take her to eat a whole cow together.

But you couldn't mutter a voice.

You had just sat there, phone pressed to your ear, fingers gripping the fabric of your hoodie so tightly it threatened to tear.

And then, just like that, she was gone.

It was three days ago.

Three days of checking your phone too often. Three days of convincing yourself you were fine. Three days of staring at these damn tickets on the desk and trying to figure out why you hadn’t just thrown them away. You should sell them. Give them to someone who’d actually enjoy them.

But something stops you.

Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s stubbornness. Maybe it’s the stupid, lingering part of you that refuses to admit that she’s really gone. Whatever the reason, you find yourself gripping them tighter instead of throwing them away.

You decided that you will go.

Not for her. Not to see her.

Just so you don’t have to sit in this room, drowning in thoughts of what used to be.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

-

The venue is packed.

Fans shuffle forward in line, their chatter buzzing in the air like static. Excited whispers, rustling light sticks, the occasional squeal when a favourite member’s name is mentioned.

Your fingers tighten around the album in your hands. (Ironically you still hold onto her album)

This is normal for them. For the fans around you, this is just another fan sign. A chance to meet their idols, to share fleeting moments, to walk away with a signature and a memory they’ll cherish for years.

You should feel the same. Instead, you’re just… tired. Who could blame you, you’re about to come face-to-face with your ex-girlfriend.

And she has no idea you’re here.

Your grip on the album tightens as the line inches forward. The first few members greet you with polite smiles, their voices light and bubbly. You do your best to respond normally, but your mind is elsewhere, trapped in the inevitable moment that keeps creeping closer and closer.

You don’t need to look up to know she’s at the end of the table. You can feel her presence.

And then, suddenly, there’s no more time left.

Your album slides across the table. Long, slender fingers stop it in place.

There’s a small pause—so brief that no one else seems to notice—but you do. You feel it in the slight delay before she looks up, in the way her fingers tighten just a fraction around the album’s edge.

And then her eyes meet yours.

She looks the same. Flawless, as always. Every strand of hair perfectly in place, makeup soft and ethereal under the bright overhead lights. And those sparkly eyes that you often got lost in.

But…she’s not yours anymore. Not at all.

There was a flicker of something—recognition, surprise, something deeper—crosses her face. But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by a carefully neutral expression.

Her lips part slightly, but no words come out at first. Then…

“Hey.”

It’s awkward. Too awkward. You can feel the tension hanging between you, thick and suffocating.

You swallow, trying to ignore the way your chest tightens. “Hey.”

For a split second, she looks like she wants to say something else. Like she wants to break the script, ignore the rehearsed greetings and practiced smiles.

But then—

She doesn’t.

Instead, she picks up her pen, the mask slipping back into place. Her expression evens out, and in a voice so perfectly professional it almost stings, she says,

“Thanks for coming.”

Just like she would to any other fan. That made your stomach twists.

You should’ve known. Of course, she wouldn't acknowledge it. Not here. Not in front of all these people.

Still, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “Yeah. Would’ve been a waste of money if I didn’t.”

Something flickers across her face, but it’s gone before you can catch it. She presses her lips together, nodding slightly. “Right. Can’t have that.”

She signs her name, her handwriting as neat and practiced as always. But there’s a hesitance in the way she moves, a slight delay before she lifts the pen from the page.

When she finally pushes the album back toward you, her fingers linger just a second longer than necessary.

Then, in a voice so quiet that only you can hear…

“Take care, okay?”

She’s looking at you now. Really looking at you.

And for a moment, just one fleeting moment, she’s not the Jang Wonyoung, the IT girl, the global superstar.

She’s just…Wonyoung.

The girl who used to call you late at night just to hear your voice.

The girl who used to lace her fingers through yours under the table when no one was looking.

The girl who told you she didn’t have time for you anymore.

You stare at her.

The words stick to your throat. You genuinely don’t trust yourself to say anything.

So you just…don’t.

You just take the album, stand up, and walk away. And even as you disappear into the crowd, you can still feel her eyes on you.

-

You’ve been doing fine.

Or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

It’s been a few days since the fan sign, and you’ve buried yourself in anything that keeps your mind occupied—work, games, mindless scrolling through your phone. Anything to keep yourself from replaying the look on Wonyoung’s face at the fansign. From remembering the way she hesitated before handing your album back. From thinking about the way her gaze kept flickering toward you as you walk away, as if she was looking for something.

Or someone.

But that’s not your problem anymore. You told yourself that the moment you left the venue.

Which is why, when your phone starts ringing at an ungodly hour, you almost don’t check the caller ID. Almost.

The second you see her name flashing on the screen, your stomach twists.

Jang Wonyoung.

The ringing continues, each second stretching unbearably. You should let it go. Turn off your phone. Pretend you never saw it.

But you don’t. Because deep down, you know you still want to hear her voice. So you answer.

“...Hello?”

There’s silence on the other end for a moment, followed by a soft giggle—breathy and drawn out, the kind that used to slip past her lips whenever she was feeling particularly affectionate.

"Dummmyy!" she hums, stretching your nickname like it’s some sweet, familiar melody.

“Wonyo. Are you drunk?” You sigh, ignoring the way your nickname for her easily rolled out of your tongue.

She giggles again, the sound loose and unguarded. "Mmm… maybe."

"Goddamn it." You rub your temples. "Where are you?"

A rustling noise filters through the receiver, followed by the distant hum of traffic. "Somewhere," she mumbles. "Some bar, I think. The girls took me out."

Figures.

You shift in bed, propping yourself up against the headboard. “It’s late.”

“I know,” she says, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “But I wanted to call you.”

You close your eyes, exhaling through your nose. “Why?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, there’s a soft exhale, the kind she lets out when she’s gathering her thoughts. Then, quieter…

“Because I miss you.”

Your fingers tighten around the phone.

"Don’t do that," you say quietly.

"Do what?"

"Say things you don’t mean."

Another pause. When she speaks again, her voice is steadier. "But I do mean it. I do miss you."

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. "Well, that’s not my problem anymore, is it?"

She goes quiet.

For a moment, all you hear is the faint sound of music in the background, the distant chatter of people. She’s probably in the back of some high-end bar or a private lounge that someone of her status often went. You can picture it too easily—her long hair falling over her shoulders, her lips painted red, the glow of the city lights reflecting in her eyes.

Your heart beat rapidly at the image.

"You came to the fansign," she says suddenly, cutting into your thoughts.

You rub at your temple. "Mhm."

"Why?"

"You already know why."

"Say it anyway."

You sigh. "Because I had the tickets. It would’ve been a waste."

She lets out a humourless laugh. "Right. Can’t have that."

Something about the way she repeats your words from that day makes your stomach twist.

There’s another long pause. Then, almost hesitantly.

"Did you feel anything?"

Your eyes widened. "Feel what?"

"When you saw me again." Her voice is quieter now. "Did you feel anything?"

Your jaw clenches. You want to lie. Want to say no, not at all. That it didn’t matter. That she doesn’t matter. But you can’t.

Because the truth is, you felt everything.

The way your heart clenched when she looked at you. The way your stomach twisted when her fingers hesitated over your name. The way your mind screamed at you to move on, to stop letting her affect you, to stop caring.

But you don’t tell her any of that.

Instead, you settle for, "Who cares anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because we’re done, Jang Wonyoung."

She sucks in a sharp breath, and for a second, you wonder if she’s about to cry.

"You-" She stops, swallows. When she speaks again, her voice is unsteady. "You didn’t even try to fight for me."

Your grip tightens around the phone, knuckles turning white. "You were the one who ended things. On the phone, may I remind you."

"I know," she whispers. "And I thought it was the right choice. But now I just—" She breaks off, voice cracking slightly. "I don’t know anymore."

You shut your eyes.

It would be so easy to give in. To tell her that you don’t know either, that you still think about her, that you still wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t supposed to end like this.

But what’s the point?

She made her choice.

And you’re tired of being the one left picking up the pieces.

"You’re drunk, Jang Wonyoung," you say, voice carefully even. "Go home and go to sleep."

"Wait—"

"Goodnight."

And then, before she can say another word, you hang up.

The silence that follows is deafening.

And yet, for the first time in days, you finally let yourself breathe.

-

Or at least, it should be.

You did the right thing, you tell yourself—cut it off before it could spiral any further. Before you let yourself believe, even for a second, that anything has changed.

But still, the weight in your chest lingers.

The room feels too quiet now, the kind of silence that presses in from all sides, making it impossible to ignore the thoughts creeping into your head. You lie back down, throwing an arm over your eyes, willing yourself to sleep.

You don’t know how much time passes before you hear it.

A knock.

You freeze.

At first, you think you’re imagining it. Sleep-deprived, emotionally drained, and still reeling from that damn phone call, your brain must be conjuring things that aren’t real. But then, the knocking got more insistent. Erratic, yet insistent.

Your brows furrow. You sit up, straining your ears.

"Who the hell…?"

It’s almost 3 AM. No one in their right mind would be visiting you at this hour. Then again, you just got a call from a drunk girl not in their right mind.

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s louder this time, clumsy and uncoordinated, like whoever’s on the other side can barely keep their balance. A sinking feeling settles in your stomach.

You begrudingly throw off your blankets and push yourself up, padding toward the door. Your hand hovers over the handle for a second before you sigh and pull it open.

And there she is.

Wonyoung.

She’s standing there in the dim, flickering hallway light, wrapped in a thin coat that does nothing to protect her from the cold. Her long hair is slightly tousled, the glossy perfection from the concert gone, strands falling loosely over her shoulders. She sways just the slightest, a delicate wobble on unsteady feet. Her lips are slightly parted, eyes glassy—not just from the alcohol but from something else. Something unreadable.

You blink.

She blinks back, like she’s just now processing that you’re standing in front of her.

Then, with absolutely no warning, she wobbles forward, collapsing against your chest.

You barely manage to catch her. “Jesus—Wonyo.” You gently hold her arms, steadying her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

"Surprise," she breathes, half-laughing, half-sniffling.

You let out a sharp breath. “Surprise? You’re seriously—” You stop yourself, jaw clenching. “How did you even get here?”

"I took a taxi," she announces, like that explains anything. Like that justifies her showing up at your door past midnight after breaking up with you.

You stare at her. “Alone?”

“Mmhmm.”

Your stomach twists. “Wonyoung, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

She just hums, leaning more of her weight onto you. Her forehead presses against your shoulder, and you can feel the slight tremble in her body.

You sigh, tightening your grip. “You’re freezing.”

“I was walking.”

“Walking where?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she tilts her head back to look at you properly. Her lips part slightly, like she’s about to say something—something serious, something she’s probably been holding in for too long. But then, she hiccups.

You close your eyes, exhaling sharply through your nose. “You’re unbelievable.”

She smiles lazily, like she didn’t just show up at your door dead drunk in the middle of the night after breaking up with you.

"You hung up on me," she murmurs.

You pull back slightly, just enough to see her properly. “Yeah. I did.”

"That was mean," she says, pouting. "I was talking."

"You were drunk."

"Still talking."

You shake your head, adjusting your grip on her. “Come on. You need water. And sleep.”

She hums, letting you guide her inside. “Only if you let me stay.”

You pause.

For a brief second, something in her voice sounds painfully sober.

But then she giggles again, burying her face in your chest, and you decide that you’ll deal with that in the morning.

For now, you just hold her close.

You sigh, pressing your lips into a thin line as you shift your grip on her. She’s barely standing at this point, practically melting into you like she has no bones in her body.

"Alright, come on," you mutter, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her inside.

She stumbles slightly, her fingers gripping at your shirt as she giggles under her breath. "You smell nice," she mumbles.

You ignore that.

You close the door behind you with your foot, guiding her toward the couch. She flops onto it with zero resistance, her coat slipping off her shoulders. The moment she’s down, she tilts her head back, blinking up at you like she’s expecting something.

She doesn’t hesitate. Stumble inside like she belongs here.

And maybe that’s the problem. She did belong here.

And now? Now you don’t know.

Her eyes lazily drift across the apartment, lingering on the things she still remembers—the half-empty cup of coffee on your desk, the hoodie she used to steal draped over the chair, the faint indent in the couch where she used to curl up next to you.

Then she noticed your desk, the same desk where the fansign ticket sat just days ago. The same one she saw in your hands at the fansign days ago.

"You really came," she murmurs, not looking at you. "I didn’t think you actually would."

You shrug. "Like I said. Would’ve been a waste."

She flinches. Just the tiniest bit. But you catch it.

She exhales slowly, arms wrapping around herself. "It was weird."

"What was?"

"Seeing you there. But not... There, you know?" She fully looks at you now, and there's something raw in her expression. Something you’re not sure you’re ready to face. "You didn’t smile. You didn’t tease me like you usually do. You barely even looked at me."

"What did you expect?" you ask quietly. "You dumped me, Wonyoung. You can’t just expect me to act like nothing happened."

She presses her lips together, fingers gripping the hem of her sleeve. "I know."

You wait. Give her the space to say what she came here to say.

But she doesn’t. Not right away.

She defeatedly sighed, tucking her knees under her chin, looking smaller than she ever has before. She stares at her hands for a long moment before mumbling, "I don’t know why I came here."

You scoff. "Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you drunk-called your ex, then showed up at his apartment in the middle of the night without a plan."

She frowns. "I do have a plan."

You raise an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

She huffs. "Step one: get inside. Step two..." She falters, looking away. "...I didn’t think that far."

You shake your head. "Unbelievable."

Silence stretches between you, heavy and unspoken.

Then, barely above a whisper, "Do you hate me?"

You freeze.

Your first instinct is to say no. Because of course you don’t hate her. You never could.

But that’s not the right answer, is it?

So instead, you tell the truth.

"I don’t know," you admit. "I want to. But I can't."

She looks up at you then, eyes searching. Hopeful and afraid all at once. "I messed up, didn’t I?"

You let out a hollow laugh. "Yea. Big time."

She swallows. Lowers her gaze again. "I thought breaking up would make things easier. For you…for both of us."

"Did it?"

She shakes her head. "No."

You run a hand through your hair, exhaling. "Then why did you do it?"

"I was scared," she says, and her voice is so small, so unlike the confident idol the world knows, that it almost hurts to hear. "I thought I was being selfish, holding onto you when I barely had time to see you. I thought you deserved more than stolen moments and rushed phone calls."

Your jaw clenches. "You didn’t even ask me what I wanted."

"I know," she whispers. "I thought I was making the right choice."

You sit down across from her, legs spread, elbows on your knees. "And now?"

She meets your gaze, vulnerability laid bare. "Now... I just miss you."

Your heart leaped a mile. This was the Wonyoung you always see. Not the glamorous and model-esque Jang Wonyoung everyone always see on TV. Not the well-spoken and powerful public figure everyone knows. Just…a gentle yet bubbly girl who snuggled up next to you on the couch at the end of the day.

But your brain should tell her to leave. To sleep it off, to sober up and think about this when her mind is clearer.

Then she reaches out—just the slightest, her fingers brushing against yours on the couch. And you don’t pull away.

"You’re drunk," you remind her, though your voice lacks conviction.

She smiles faintly. "Thanks…Mr. Obvious."

Silence. Then, tentatively, "Can I sleep here tonight?"

Another hesitation.

But just like before, you already know your answer.

You sigh. Your hand intertwined with hers.

"Go get a blanket. Wonyo."

She doesn’t move right away. Just watches you, like she’s memorizing you all over again.

Then, with a small, almost relieved nod, she gets up and stumbled into your bedroom as she dragged you along—the same bedroom she used to slip into after long schedules, the same one she used to call hers.

And just like that, the distance you tried so hard to create crumbles.

Again.

[haihoneys]

Pool Party Fun Times

Summary: San is getting really tired of this cat-and-mouse game he’s been playing with Y/N. Little does he know, she’s fed up too. What’s going to happen when they each decide they’re going to make a move at their mutual friend’s pool party?

Word Count: 3,763

Pairing: Choi San x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut - reader is a ✨screamer✨, mention of blood (bitten lip), barely proofread (im defs high editing this oops), unprotected sex (pls be smart)

A/N: this is set in the same universe as If The Heavens Ever Did Speak and Afternoon Delight. you don’t have to read those to read this, though!! just thought i would mention it hehe. if you wanna get really specific… it actually happens the same day as Afternoon Delight… its the same party 👀

——

The first time they met, San found himself drawn to her. She just had this magnetism about her that seemed to always keep him in her orbit. From the second Yeosang, a long-time friend of her’s apparently, introduced them to one another at a listening party San was just…enamored. She was all twinkling eyes and bright smiles, fluttering lashes and breathy laughs. 

Since then, she’d been popping up randomly in his world.

Two days after the listening party, they ran into each other at a cafe. A week after that, he was picking up some takeout from his favorite chicken place and all but ran into her as she was leaving the same restaurant. The very next day, as he was leaving the dance practice, he saw her from across the street as she was exiting a cab. 

San smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughed and called her name. Y/N whipped around, shock coloring her features as she searched for the stranger calling for her. He jogged across the street, huffing another chuckle as he stopped before her. 

“We really need to stop running into each other like this.”

She laughed and nodded her agreement, reaching out a hand to rest on his bicep.  

The gentle touch had him biting down on the inside of his cheeks to keep from sighing and leaning closer to her.

“Yeah, we definitely do,” she smiled up at him, and to his horror, she pulled her hand away to hoist her bag up higher on her shoulder. “I actually have a meeting I need to get to. But, here, let me see your phone?”

San immediately started fumbling for his phone, patting at his pockets until he found the device. He unlocked it before placing it in her waiting palm. Y/n pulled out her own phone, swiping until she open… Snapchat… of all things and opened up her profile to show the qr code. She found the same app on his phone and opened it up, scanning the code to add her as a ‘friend.’ 

She made a satisfied little hmph sound as she locked his phone and handed it back to him. “Ooh, the request came through! Let me accept it before I head to my meeting.”

And they had been dancing around each other ever since, skirting just on the edge of flirting.

A shirtless, post-workout gym selfie from San. A shot of her legs in a bubble bath in response. 

A reply to his story complimenting his new haircut. A little video showing off said haircut as he thanked her.

Nothing too overt, but at the same time… it wasn’t just nothing.

They were both aware of the mutual attraction, of the suggestiveness of some of their photos and messages. But neither of them were making any real moves towards the other.

That is, until they were thrown into a group chat together with all their friends and invited to a pool party to celebrate the start of the summer.

Their phones pinged at the same time from opposite sides of the city: Y/N tucked into her cozy apartment and San in the back of an SUV on his way back to the dorms from the studio.

That was it. That was the opportunity they needed. This party would be the perfect time to make a move.

Of course, both of them choked when the day came. Offering up only shy hellos and timid waves when they saw each other.

In San’s defense though, she just looked too fucking good. When he saw her in the low-cut summer dress, nipples poking through the thin fabric, he had to excuse himself to the bathroom to adjust his semi-hard cock in his jeans.

He spent the rest of the afternoon making eyes at her from across the pool deck, not bothering to hide the fact or even deny it when Wooyoung giggled about it.

And she was sending those looks right back to him! He swore she was fluttering her long eyelashes at him, too. And maybe he started to think about how she would look up at him when she was on her knees for him… about how she’d take him down her throat and - 

A beach ball came soaring across the deck and smacked him on the forehead. He stood there, a bit dazed, as he snapped out of his thoughts.

Wooyoung was doubled over, laughing so hard he was near tears, trying to choke out an apology. San huffed and rolled his eyes, picking the pool toy up and hurling it back at Wooyoung.

San smiled at the dull thwack! as it made contact with the side of his head.

“Ow!” Wooyoung gasped, hand flying to rub at his head. “No way it hit you that hard!” 

“Serves you right, brat,” San shrugged. Honestly, it was probably for the best with the way his thoughts were spiraling just seconds ago. 

San eventually found himself behind the outdoor bar, playing bartender much to the delight of his friends. Yunho and Mingi’s cheering for him caught Y/N’s attention from across the deck, her focus pulling away from the boys’ makeup artist to land on the rowdy trio. 

She excused herself at the first lull in the conversation, claiming she needed another drink despite the nearly full seltzer she was nursing, and seated herself at the far end of the bar. 

San turned toward her, leaning back against the counter behind him as he tossed the towel he was using to dry his hands over his shoulder. He crosses his thick arms and Y/N’s eyes locked in on the corded muscles and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t thinking about him pinning her down and - 

“What can I getcha miss?”

His question brought her back to reality, her cheeks and ears heating as he stared her down.

‘He knows’ she thought ‘he absolutely, 100% knows that I was just thinking about him pinning me to the bed upstairs.’ 

“Um,” she stuttered, suddenly nervous under the weight of his intense gaze. “Surprise me.” 

The left corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk as he uncrossed his arms and turned away from her. He began pouring various mixers and liquors into a shaker before slapping the top on and shaking the concoction. Y/N watched him and nearly moaned at the way the toned muscles in his shoulders and back flexed and moved under his white t-shirt as he went about the task. 

Yeosang just so happened to pass behind her and reached up to tug on a lock of her hair to get her attention. Y/N hummed, barely acknowledging her friend, and Yeosang chuckled under his breath.

“Close your mouth. You’re starting to drool,” he teased before walking off again. 

Y/N swatted at him as he went, mumbling for him to hush because she was busy watching a ‘show.’ 

San scooped some ice into a glass and poured the mixture over it, making a show of licking the fingers of his right hand as he slid her the drink with his left. He leaned forward onto the bar, and the muscles of his arms shifted again. He noted Y/N’s eyes following his movements, and he smirked.

“Let me know what you think.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great.” She reached for the glass, making sure to just barely brush the tips of her fingers against his forearm as she did. She kept her eyes locked on his as she brought the glass to her lips and took a sip.

“I bet it’ll be the best you’ve ever had.” 

Y/N choked and spluttered on her drink, the heat returning to her cheeks. She looked up at him when she finally caught her breath, ready to spew something about how the drink had just gone down the wrong way. But when her eyes locked on his face again he was giving her the biggest shit eating grin and something clicked into place.

She realized he had been torturing her on purpose. Well, two could play at that game, she supposed. 

She leaned forward onto the bar, purposefully crossing her arms under her tits so they were pushed up practically in his face. She gave herself an extra point in their little game when she noticed his eyes dip down to her cleavage. He flicked his eyes back up to meet hers, his mouth opening to say something clever, to try to fluster her again. So she beat him to the punch.

“Hmm.. I bet I could top it.”

San cocked an eyebrow and grinned at her. “Is that so?” 

Y/N hummed in affirmation and took another sip of her drink. This time, she had to bite back her cringe as the alcohol actually made contact with her taste buds. It was atrocious; nail polish remover probably would have gone down smoother than the literal poison he had given her.

But she smiled, her best attempt at coy, and slid off the bar stool without another word, making sure to put a little emphasis in the sway of her hips as she made her way to the sliding door that led directly into the sunroom of the house. 

It was one of those cliche-as-fuck moments where San thought “damn I hate to see her go, but I love to watch her leave”. 

He was still leaned over the bar, trying to give her at least a few minutes of a head start so everyone still gathered around the pool and bar wouldn't immediately know what they were about to get up to.

The last shred of his willpower flew out the window, though, when she made it to the door and looked over her shoulder at him. She grinned like she knew she had him in the palm of her hand.

And to be fair, she did. 

San pushed off the bar and, as casually as he could, walked towards the door she’d just disappeared through. He found her in the sunroom leaning against the sideboard that was pressed directly under the window, back to the door as she played on her phone.

He stepped behind her and wrapped an arm around her from behind, one hand splaying across her lower tummy as she discarded her phone. San leaned in and moved the hair from her neck and shoulder before leaning in and pressing a kiss just beneath her ear. 

“You thought you were cute out there, huh?”

She could feel the smirk he pressed into the skin of her neck, and then all of the bravado she had worked up was suddenly gone as she practically melted into his touch.

“Bet you thought you had the upper hand all day…Just flouncing around in this flimsy little dress.”

His hands started to wander, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they slid from her hips, up her abdomen to cup and squeeze at her tits. “Not wearing a fucking bra… bet you aren’t wearing panties either, are you?” San laughs, and it’s a sardonic, almost cruel sound.

He pinched at one of her nipples and involuntarily bucked into her when she whimpered and arched into his touch. He slid a hand up further so he could grasp her neck, turning her head towards him just a bit so he could see her pretty face. 

“What if I’m not?” She was breathless as she said it, the anticipation, the want, evident in her tone.

She was clenching her thighs together, trying for any sort of friction, for any sort of relief. San laughed again and dropped the hand that was still on her chest back to her hip. He started to grab and bunch the fabric there, hiking her dress up just enough to slip his hand under the hem.

Y/N whimpered as his fingers brushed over her thighs, tracing shapes and patterns so close yet so far from where she truly wanted him. She was ready to beg for it, the plea on the tip of her tongue when he finally, blessedly moved his hand between her thighs and slid his fingers through her folds. 

He pulled his hand away and held it up in front of their faces, the setting sun shining through the window and reflecting off the sticky wetness on his fingers. 

“You’re being a tease,” she breathed out, chest heaving. 

San laughed and Y/N was beginning to hate the sound and how it made her pussy clench and ache for him. She turned in his grip and watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean.

He groaned at the taste of her. He was going to spend a long, long time between her thighs. He wanted to fucking drink her and all she had to give him. 

Then he was kissing her, hands in the hair at the base of her skull and pulling just hard enough to guide her where he wanted her. She could still taste herself on his tongue and it was driving her fucking insane, her head swimming.

The primal urge to tear into each other was palpable. The kiss was all clashing teeth and bitten lips, wet and sticky with spit and a bit of blood from a bite that was just a bit too hard. San pulled away a fraction, his pupils blown wide as he stared her down. 

Y/N zoned in on the drop of blood on his lip and gasped. “Fuck! I’m so sorry…oh my god… I didn’t realize I was going that crazy.”

She was speaking a mile a minute, rambling and apologizing profusely, and San cut her off with another searing kiss. 

“What’s pleasure without a bit of pain?” He walked them backwards as he said it, his hands still tangled in her hair.

He eased them down onto the daybed at the back of the room, pulling her into his lap and rucking her dress back up around her hips so she could straddle him.

“You okay?” He asked, wanting to keep her comfort at the top of his priorities. 

“God, yes,” she breathed out and went back in for another kiss, licking into his mouth like she wanted to imprint the taste of him in her own mouth. Y/N started grinding down onto him, the fly of his jeans and the hardness of his cock providing the most delicious friction against her clit.

He moaned into her mouth, strong hands on her hips, dragging her back and forth over his lap until she was whimpering and whining for him. San kissed at the corner of her mouth and murmured to her, “You gonna cum for me? Gonna cum just from humping me like this, baby?” 

She whined and nodded her head frantically, her voice fully gone, the pressure building and building in her lower belly until her toes were curling and stars were bursting behind her eyelids. San hummed below her, hands still pushing and pulling at her as she started to writhe above him, riding out her high.

San watched her, in rapture, as she lost herself to the pleasure. He wanted to burn the sight into the backs of his eyelids so he could conjure it up the next time he found himself alone and wanting.

“I need you inside me right now or I might fucking die.”

That might be the hottest thing he’d ever heard. 

She lifted herself onto her knees - there was just enough space between them to allow her to fumble with his pants and help him shimmy them down his thick thighs. She almost started salivating at the sight of his cock slapping up against his abdomen, heavy and swollen and already leaking precum. 

“Can’t have that now, can we?” He tried to joke, but his laugh was cut off by a guttural groan as she sank down onto him. The wet, molten heat of her might just be heaven, his own personal nirvana. He honestly thought he could live there, buried to the hilt in her pretty little cunt.

Then she started rocking against him and moaning his name, and San nearly came undone at the sound. He gripped at her hips, fingers pressing marks that would surely turn to bruises, and picked her up just enough to give him room to fuck up into her.

The angle was damn near perfect, she could feel every ridge and vein of him, could feel the tip of his cock kissing against her cervix. Her head fell back as she moaned at a particularly well-placed thrust, leaving her throat exposed to him. And San took full advantage of it.

He leaned forward and attached his lips to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Biting down until she whined - he was starting to think that high-pitched, needy little noise was going to become one of his favorite sounds - before he laved over the quickly reddening mark with his tongue to soothe the sting of pain. 

She was clawing at his arms and shoulders, nails raking down his skin, and he hissed at the sharp bite of it. But he loved it. Loved that she was marking him up, putting her claim on him in such a visible way. Just as he had done to her. 

Suddenly, he was flipping them, and she squealed, arms flying up to wrap around his neck. San never lost his momentum though, fucking into her with even more force thanks to the new angle and leverage. He buried his face in her neck, kissing and sucking new marks onto the column of her throat.

“Fuckkkk,” he groaned into her, pressing the curse into her skin between the kisses, “you feel so fucking good.” 

Words were lost to her at that point; her eyes rolled back in her head as he slammed into her over and over again. She was whimpering and keening beneath him, her hands tangled in and tugging at his hair as he kept pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

San slipped his own hand between them, effortlessly finding her swollen clit. It was a bit clumsy at first, but he steadied himself quickly, drawing tight little circles over her. He sped up his thrusts, and the force of it had them sliding over the edge of the bed.

He was somehow clear-headed enough to thank god that the daybed was low. Practically just cushions on the floor already, so neither of them ended up hurt when they fully slid to the floor.

Y/N didn’t even seem to notice the shift, pupils blown wide, and cheeks flushed. She looked so fucked out that he thought he might could cum just from the look on her face. From knowing that it was him that put that look there. He set back to rubbing at her clit, determined to make her cum again.

“Can you cum for me again, baby? I need you to cum for me… c’mon and give it to me, yeah?

She didn’t need words to answer him, her body taking over and doing it for her as her pussy clamped down so tight around him that he couldn’t fucking move.

The blinding ecstasy ripped through her, and she screamed his name as her vision fully whited out. She was clinging to him like she might slip away from the earth if he wasn’t there tethering her to it, arms thrown around his shoulders and legs hooked over his hips.

San slapped a hand over her mouth, torn between relishing in the fact that he was the one making her scream like that and being worried about everyone just on the other side of the window being able to hear them. 

He swore to himself that next time, he would make sure they were fully alone. That they had all the privacy they needed so she could be as loud as she wanted. So he would be able to hear all those pretty sounds at full volume.

San knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, the fluttering of her cunt around him and the muffled whines she was making from behind his hand were sending him barreling towards his own climax.

He quickly pulled out, sitting back on his calves, his hand flew over his cock as he gave himself a few pumps. San moaned as he came, hot ropes of cum spilling onto her lower belly. 

She was still trembling through her aftershocks as she hummed and brought her fingers to the mess, swirled them around before bringing them to her lips and licking them clean. The menace made sure to keep her gaze locked on his as she did it, moaning at the taste of him as he watched her slack-jawed.

“Didn’t think it was fair that you got to taste me and I didn’t get to taste you.”

San snorted as he rolled to the side of her, flinging his arm over his face. “Keep looking at me like that and saying shit like that and you’ll definitely be tasting me soon.”

Y/N laughed, and it had him giggling in turn. San wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side, pressing soft kisses to her temple. They gave themselves a few moments to fully catch their breaths before they decided they should clean up and head back out to the party before their friends came looking for them.

He needed to find her something clean to wear and offer to have her dress dry cleaned. He told her as much, but she waved him off, telling him not to worry about it. 

San leaned against the doorframe and watched as she tried her best to tame her hair into something remotely presentable. 

“By the way,” he started, “You’re really loud. I was sure someone was going to come in here thinking I was killing you or something.”

Y/N flushed and looked away from him, embarrassed that he had brought it up after the fact. “Sorry… I get so caught up I can’t really help it…”

San paused, head tilting to the side and grinning softly at her.

“I never said it was a bad thing. Or that I didn’t like it. In fact,” He took a step forward, just close enough to be able to settle a hand on her hip, the other cupping her cheek. “I plan on hearing those sounds again. And seeing just how loud you can get."

——

Tag List:

 @life-is-a-game-of-thrones

[muqingslover]

[ Caleb canonically doing MC's laundry has set something off in my brain so here I am. Also, happy Valentine's day ! here's a longer one as a treat from me ;) I've been posting kinda of non-stop haha ] if you saw me post this before no you didn't

This has happened before. In fact, it had happened a few too many times for his sanity's sake. Whenever Caleb offered to do your laundry to be helpful he always had to deal with the strain in his pants that he pretended wasn't there by covering his lap with a magazine and thinking about literally anything else besides that tantalizing piece of fabric. He's been a good man, or at least he's always tried to be one for you. But was it really his fault if the situation was presented to him with a quite literally adorable little red bow?

Still, he has an admiring amount of self-restraint and for days he told himself he should give them back to you. Every time you two met he kept waiting for the moment to return it, clutching the fabric in his pocket, but all he received were reasons not to. Or perhaps, he just saw what he wanted to see. That's how a week turned into months and then the tortuous years without contact that drove him to the brink of insanity. Fighting back the urge to find you again and do everything his mind has fantasized about countless times was one of the hardest battles he ever faced, and that was saying something.

"Fuck..." He exhaled shakily. His head hit the wall behind him and he spread his legs further on the chair of his private quarters, keeping a firm hand wrapped around the base of his cock. It started after he found the old pair of panties that he had so carefully stored away and now all his mind had to offer were twisted fantasies. Caleb was in biiig trouble— He had to leave in less than fifteen minutes for a meeting and there were security officers constantly passing by his door, but he was past the stage that a simple cold shower and mental math equations would make the issue go away. The images of how the fabric would've adorned your curves in all the right places were soon followed by the memories of how sometimes he'd get a sneak peek when you bent over in front of him and gods that was the sexiest thing he's ever seen.

His metallic hand clutched the delicate fabric tighter as he trapped the lace between his teeth to force down another low groan when his palm began moving up and down again and the faint smell of your soap made his mind feel fuzzy. He was so sensitive that it ached to be touched— He was sure if this was your hand he'd have come on the spot the second your fingers brushed against him. Hell, if you breathed a bit too closely to his cock he'd fall apart like the pathetic man he is and he can only picture how your beautiful face would look covered with his cum. Can you blame him though? He's never even considered doing this with anyone else, nor will he ever do that, and his busy military life didn't leave much space for his own...moments.

He released the lace from his teeth and pressed the red fabric against his swollen tip, accidentally letting out a strained moan that was a bit too loud as his eyes rolled back into his head. He decided to quickly shut himself up by pushing his dog tag into his mouth to bite down on the metal, otherwise everyone outside his room would know just what the colonel was doing. Caleb imagined that the wet line his precum had made was because of your arousal for him instead. The way it would seep through the thin fabric and mark your pussy for him in such a filthy way. The way he'd lick along the damp spot and enjoy each and every sound that he'd surely drag out of your throat while he had your thighs around his head.

His hips jerked as he thrusted himself into his hand, into your panties, into you. The room filled with his barely contained ragged breathing as he hoped your pussy would be as much of a slippery mess as his cock was right now when he pushed past your slit, stretching you open so good yet so agonizingly slow. His grasp around his length was tight when the friction of the thin fabric against his dripping cock sent him over the edge and he came so hard his body twitched non-stop. His dog tag slipped from his lips, dangling around his neck again as he slumped back against the chair after his strength left his body momentarily.

His eyes landed on the red panties that were now coated in his thick, white cum and Caleb raised his hand to bring the messy cloth to his lips. He pushed his tongue out and licked along right at the middle where your soaked cunt would be, tasting his own release and wishing it was yours. It was a shame he had gotten such a pretty and precious thing dirty but, not to worry, he's always been good at cleaning up.

[waynes-multiverse]

Alex, this was amazing!! I absolutely loved this! I think I laughed throughout without pausing. Like, I was cackling vividly 😂😂

Dean:

He’s not sick. Because he doesn’t get sick. Dean claims he has the constitution of a horse, but you still take the beer out of his hand before he can take a sip at 10:00 a.m.

That already took me out. First two lines. Bravo. You've done it 🤣

I'm guessing this is post Chuck lmao

“I’m find,” he insists, even as he begrudgingly accepts the gentle pressure of your hand on his back and shoulder, pushing him down to the bed.

You know why I picked it 😝 (👏👏👏) And not the flannel and the runny nose, yikes. Loved this exchange (and callback) lol

He knows that you care about him. That you love him. But this is one of those moments where it hits him, just how much.

Took a brief second from laughing, so I could push tears out of my eyes 😭

But absolutely agree, you'd have to wear Dean down and force him into it lmao

Beau:

His coughing sneeze makes you grimace. You didn’t even know someone could sneeze and cough at the same time.

Back to laughing. My God, that was the sneeze of the century 😂😂

“Nah, can’t be sick. Gotta lot of work to do today,” he says.

Mutually exclusive, obviously 🤷‍♀️

“How long until I’m allowed out, warden?” he asks.

Seems like the man flu hasn't swallowed the charm either 🥰

He stops you by grabbing your wrist. “Hey, uh…can I have some chicken noodle soup later?” “Of course, baby. I’ll swing by the store now and get some stuff for you.” “And some saltines?”

And that's the moment I realized Beau's like my husband when he's sick 😂 (🙄)

It's like you were in my house and wrote a transcript of the last man flu epidemic of 2024 😆🤌

(PS: Real proud for finding that gif 😂)

A good add-on for Beau would be talking about his symptoms and aches... constantly loll. ("Babe, my throat is still dry and very weird right here. I googled and it says it could be laryngitis, cancer or the Marburg virus." 😂)

Ben:

Oh and then, Ben. Ben, Ben, Ben, Ben... I thought for sure he'd be the worst, like this virus is a personal attack on his virility 🤣 But I was pleasantly surprised when you brought in memories of his mother 🥹😭

“Fuck,” he groans, dragging a hand over his face before he turns onto his back.

That immediate fuck got me so hard 🤣🤣

He’s a sourpatch grumbly patient who only begrudgingly stays put in bed when you ask him to.

Ah, yes, gramps 😂🫶 (And he honestly shares that with a lot of old man in hospitals and nursing homes who have to be repeatedly told to stay in bed lol)

“Hey, sweetheart,” he calls to you from the bedroom, his voice croaking all the while. “I’m getting you a yacht for Valentine’s Day. You want it all white, or throw in a bit of gold? Actually, check out this one with the navy trim.”

*snorts* Of course the brat's online shopping for yachts 😆

“Why can’t you put some fucking steak in it or something?” he grouses. He tries and fails to hide another wet cough. “Why can’t you just eat what I lovingly made, just for you,” you snipped back.

Oh God, all their bickering was amazing! It's honestly always one of the most fun things when writing SB – the sheer frustration of the reader 😭😂🙈

And I loved the addition of Priestly!! 😍💚💙🤘 (I've been thinking of finally writing that one-shot for him lol)

“Aw, that’s still good,” he argues.

Great idea, man. Add a stomach bug to that man flu lmao

“Know what would really make me feel better?” he hedges. He tries to guide you down to him by tugging on your hand, but you resist him.

I could also totally see him turning into a Monica there 😂

“When you’re feeling better, you can ask me that question properly.”

Oh, oh, thank God! The relief I felt 😂 I mean, it's so, so sweet, but also you're very sick, dude, and germy... like, it's a lot 😆

(And I also sincerly hope there will be a proposal follow-up one-shot/drabble... maybe? 👀)

I loved this so much! You were spilling nothing but truths here! 😂💯🩵

HEADCANON: Man Flu

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader || Beau Arlen x Reader || Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader || Boaz Priestly x Reader

HC: When Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Boaz Priestly get sick, how would they act when you (try to) take care of them?

AN: After reading I Got You by @bettystonewell (Dean x Reader) and The Best Kind of Medicine by @lamentationsofalonelypotato (Soldier Boy x Reader), I realized that I've never actually written a sick-fic before. Here it is in headcanon form, since you guys seem to like these! lol 💜

Also adding Priestly to this lineup for the first time because some of you have been requesting more of him recently. 😉

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, hurt/comfort, sick-fic, some needy affection-starved men who don't want to admit they're needy, lots of fluff.~

Dean Winchester

He's not sick. Because he doesn't get sick.

Dean claims he has the constitution of a horse, but you still take the beer out of his hand before he can take a sip at 10:00 a.m.

He's too busy interrupting himself, namely by coughing half a lung, wheezing, blinking teary eyes -- the whole phlegmy nine yards.

Sam shakes his head, casting you a look that frankly says, Good luck.

He knows his brother is stubborn as hell, and one of the things Dean dislikes most is being fussed over for "no reason." Being seen as weak. Not being able to just shrug his shoulders and shake it off.

To be fair, Dean tries. Except this time it's accompanied by a body shiver and a reluctant sniffle. His pallid face is drawn, and his usually strong and solid frame looks unsteady as he leans a hand on the War Room table.

"Okay, come on, Rambo. Let's get you back into bed," you say, guiding your boyfriend back to the room you share with him.

"I'm find," he insists, even as he begrudgingly accepts the gentle pressure of your hand on his back and shoulder, pushing him down to the bed.

"Sure you are, baby," you say with a smirk. "You're in the primb of libe."

Dean shoots you a narrowed look. Damn you for forcing him to binge-watch all those episodes of Friends late at night when you both can't sleep.

Right now he's Monica, trying to convince you he's in tip-top shape, while you're Chandler, just trying to get him to use tissues instead of his flannel sleeve to wipe his runny nose.

After taking his boots off, you get him to change out of his jeans and back into his sweatpants. Then you manage to get him to lay down under the covers with the promise of coming back with medicine and soup.

"I don't want soup, damn it," he grumbles. You just roll your eyes and rub his arm.

"Just rest. I'll be back with the Vicks."

As you might expect, Dean is not an easy patient.

He refuses to drink tea, but he does down the pills you bring for him, with a measured toss of his head that still makes his head swim. He groans.

He swallows a couple of cautious spoonfuls of the soup, pausing when he realizes that its warmth actually feels good down his sore and scratchy throat. It tastes pretty good too, especially with the warm, buttered slices of bread on the side.

"You made this?" he asks.

"Mhmm," you nod, smiling. If nothing else, good food will pacify this man. "Chicken and wild rice, made especially for you."

"Hmm. S' good," he nods in reply. He manages to finish the bowl.

He has to admit, if just to himself, that he does feel like shit.

He won't admit that the way you're rubbing his back, the gentle pressure of your nails between his shoulders and down his spine relaxes him, makes him feel better.

He knows that you care about him. That you love him. But this is one of those moments where it hits him, just how much.

It's a little overwhelming. A heavy swell of pressure fills his chest, so he tries not to let himself think about it for very long.

(He fails.)

After he's done eating, you take the plates away and help him back into bed. You linger there, slipping your fingers through his soft brown hair and pressing a kiss to his clammy forehead.

"I really need you to rest, okay," you say quietly. "If you need anything, just text me or Sam. Don't get out of bed."

Dean grasps your hand before you can move away from him. Since you're probably going to wash your hands anyway, he lays a kiss on the back of your hand.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

Beau Arlen

Sheriff Beau Arlen is the type to run himself into the ground because he's so damn into his work.

He wants to do well in his station of responsibility, and he feels like he has to make up for his performance during the summer madness of Buck Barnes and Avery...and everything in between.

You just have to make Beau realize that he needs to slow down, before he well and truly burns himself out.

You put your foot down one morning.

He tries to get out of bed but has to pause, his head swimming. He takes a couple of steadying breaths while sitting on the edge of the bed.

You notice with a frown. "Hey, you okay?"

"Fine. Just fine," he answers a little too breathlessly. He raises a hand to his head. His throat is sticky and coarse. He wrinkles his nose when he also feels a sneeze coming on.

"Just need a...a...mugh-ah-ha-hugh."

His coughing sneeze makes you grimace. You didn't even know someone could sneeze and cough at the same time.

"Aw, babe. You're sick," you say as you move over to him, resting a hand on his back. He shakes his head and groans.

"Nah, can't be sick. Gotta lot of work to do today," he says. His voice is like gravel blended with broken glass. It would actually be sexy, if for the distinctly un-sexy way he tries to clear the great wad of phlegm from his throat.

He tries to rock himself onto his feet, but there he sways on the landing. You hurry out of bed to grab his arm and steady him.

"Oh no, you don't. Back into bed," you say.

"Aw, sweetheart. I'll be fine--"

"No. Lay down. You're not going in today," you say more firmly, all while you tuck the man back into bed with the blankets covering him.

"All right, all right. No need to be so pushy," he can't help but tease.

It earns a small smirk on your face. It seems like his man flu hasn't yet deprived him of his sense of humor.

"I thought you liked that though," you reply. You sit on the edge of the bed and rub his chest. He groans in defeat.

"Can't believe this," he grumbles. "Today of all days--"

"There's always going to be another case. This is your body telling you that you need to slow down," you tell him. "So how about this. I'm gonna call in one of my sick days, and we'll bunker in together."

You stroke his bearded cheek. He quirks a smile, grabbing your hand and squeezing warmly.

"How long until I'm allowed out, warden?" he asks.

"Until you can stand without keeling over," you dryly reply. A smile tugs at your lips. "Remind me to stop by CVS to grab you a Life Alert."

"All right, har har haugh--" His sarcasm ends on a very real, wheezing cough. Your amused smile drops. You relent from your teasing and stroke his chest once more.

"Okay, just rest. Let me get you some actual medicine and I'll be right back."

He stops you by grabbing your wrist. "Hey, uh...can I have some chicken noodle soup later?"

"Of course, baby. I'll swing by the store now and get some stuff for you."

"And some saltines?"

"Saltine crackers on the side. Got it."

You're about to head to the bathroom to brush your teeth before you start getting ready to go to the store, but once again, Beau's needy hand stops you.

"Before you go, some tea with honey and lemon would be good. Just something for my throat," he croaks.

You smile and nod. "Yeah, for sure. That'll be better for you than coffee."

"Oh, and can you gimme that quilt over there?" he asks, pointing to your favorite knitted blanket at the edge of the bed. You graciously lay it over his form and drop a kiss onto his forehead.

"And some cough drops. Thank you, darlin'," Beau adds.

Your lips begin to press together, but you nod and continue getting dressed.

You can already tell this man is going to settle into you taking care of him just fine.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Neither of you thought it was possible, considering his super genes that allowed him to eat and booze and drug harder than Andre the Giant and Keith Richards put together.

But one day, your over six-foot super soldier goes down hard. The warning signs came the night before, when you could hardly sleep with the way he was snoring like a grizzly bear.

In the morning, he wakes bleary-eyed with a runny nose and a coughing fit hard enough to shake the bed.

"Fuck," he groans, dragging a hand over his face before he turns onto his back. "This's gotta be some kind of bullshit hangover."

You move over to him in bed and feel the intense warmth of his clammy forehead. Your brows draw together in concern.

"No, I think you're sick."

"Not possible," he grumbles. "I haven't been sick since..."

Well, since he was a kid, probably. He won't admit it, but he's surprised he still has that memory lodged in the back of his mind.

It comes to the forefront now: your hand on his cheek unknowingly mimics his mother's gentle touch, her soft, kind voice.

"Aw, my sweet boy. Let's get you feeling better."

He can almost recall the floral scent of her perfume, echoes of it in the shampoo you use.

Ben claims he's fine, that he doesn't need your help or want the medicine and tea you bring for him. (He tries the tea, grimaces, and spits it out when you're not looking.)

He's a sourpatch grumbly patient who only begrudgingly stays put in bed when you ask him to. He doesn't mind lying around and watching movies all day, not to mention episode after episode of Below Deck. It reminds him that he wants to get back into boating.

"Hey, sweetheart," he calls to you from the bedroom, his voice croaking all the while. "I'm getting you a yacht for Valentine's Day. You want it all white, or throw in a bit of gold? Actually, check out this one with the navy trim."

You roll your eyes to yourself when you step back into the room. You're carrying a tray with a large bowl of soup and a fifth of whiskey. He claims the latter will help soothe his throat, and you don't have the heart to argue with him when he's clearly feeling so shitty.

"You mean you're getting you a yacht," you reply wryly. "We live in the city. Where the hell would we put a boat?"

"In a yacht club, where it belongs," Ben retorts. He hooks an arm around your waist and peruses what you've brought him on the tray. He doesn't look all that interested.

"Look, I know you're not exactly a soupy kinda guy, but this'll make you feel better," you say.

"Why can't you put some fucking steak in it or something?" he grouses. He tries and fails to hide another wet cough.

"Why can't you just eat what I lovingly made, just for you," you snipped back.

He rolls his eyes at your attitude, but he pipes down. In that silence, he's conceding that you have a point. There was a time were all he had to do was glance in someone's direction, and there'd be some fucking moron to fulfill his every whim.

Now, you're probably the only one in the world that would actually do what you're doing...

Cooking for him, putting your heart into it, for the simple reason that you do care.

Ben takes the bowl of soup from your hands. Raising a brow, you offer him the spoon as well.

He eats without further complaint.

You smile and reward him with a sweet kiss on his forehead, brushing his hair back as you do so.

"See? That's not so hard, huh?" you can't help but needle him. "It's okay, baby. I'll take care of you."

He eyes you dryly, but he won't admit that there's a different kind of warmth coiling in his chest.

Boaz Priestly

"Uuuughhh, babe," he groans. "I feel like death on toast."

You're standing beside the bed with a smile playing on your lips. You brush back his for once un-gelled hair back from his face. It's weird to see it all limp and lifeless, slightly damp with sweat.

"Unironically, I should make you some toast," you reply. "What kind of medicine do we have?"

Priestly unearths his head from under his pillow to look up at you with miserable red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling, stuffy nose. "Can we count the tequila in the mini bar?"

"Maybe later," you laugh. "How are we on groceries?"

Priestly struggles to think. He takes your hand and rubs it back and forth across his chest. Maybe your sweet, loving touch has the power to clear away his congestion without him needing Vicks. Too minty.

"We have that pastrami I brought back from the shop," he says.

"That's six days old already," you shake your head.

"Aw, that's still good," he argues. "But uh, other than that, I think I have half a cheeseburger left from last night."

Last night's date at TGI Friday's, he means.

You heave a sigh. "Okay, clearly I'm going to the store. You just stay in bed and rest. Drink your tea."

He grimaces like a child. "I don't like tea."

"I know you don't like tea, but you need to drink it. It's good for your throat and your immune system."

He groans and flops back over onto his stomach. You bite your lip against a smile. He's such a whiny baby when he's sick.

Talk about Man Flu.

"Come on, be a good boy for me," you say, smacking him lightly on the ass. "Soon enough you'll feel better."

A smile creeps across his face where it's pressed against his pillow.

"Know what would really make me feel better?" he hedges. He tries to guide you down to him by tugging on your hand, but you resist him.

"Oh, no. You're not gonna get your germs all over me," you say.

"Hey, what happened to in sickness and in health?" he croaks. Even while under the weather, he's still plenty strong enough to grapple with you. He manages to yank you down. Laughing, you stumble into a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Huh, I don't remember exchanging any vows. You see a ring on this finger?" you tease, flashing your bare hand in his face to try and distract him and weasle out of his grip. "I can jump this ship anytime I want."

Priestly pouts. His arm hooks tighter around your waist. "Huh, guess you got me there..."

He turns his head and coughs roughly into his arm. Your amusement fades into concern and sympathy. You lay a hand over his chest while he struggles.

Once again, he clasps his free hand over yours. He glances up a bit hesitantly into your eyes.

"Well, maybe it's time there should be something on this finger," he murmurs.

You blink your eyes wider. Your head tilts, wondering if you just heard him right. Is this delirium fever talking, or is he serious?

"O-Oh yeah?" you ask.

Priestly tries to gauge your reaction. Seeing your face break out into a cute, shy smile raises the corners of his lips. Hope blooms in his chest, right beneath your hand.

"Yeah," he says, trying to clear his cracking throat. "I mean, if you're okay with that. If it's not too soon--"

You slip your fingers over his plush, chapped lips, and your smile brightens.

"When you're feeling better, you can ask me that question properly."

AN: 😆 I hope you liked the first ever addition of Priestly!! It was so fun to try and write him again (it's been a while lol). Feel free to imagine this vignette in the same storyverse as The Miracle Man and Code Red.

But I also hope you enjoyed the "Big 3," as I call them, even though Russell is starting to give Beau a run for his money on one of those slots. 😂 Let me know which guy you had the most fun reading on this one! 💜

And if you want even more fluff before Valentine's Day, check out my friend @waynes-multiverse who just posted her set of V-Day headcanons with Dean, Soldier Boy, Beau, and Russell: Headcanon: Valentine's Day 💕

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Beau Arlen Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Boaz Priestly Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy + Priestly Tag List

@kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @luci-in-trenchcoats

@mostlymarvelgirl @thebiggerbear @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester

@deans-spinster-witch @sanscas @mxltifxnd0m @hobby27 @kaleldobrev @spnwoman

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean

@lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx @chernayawidow

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @twinkleinadiamondsky

@my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof @cookiechipdough @mrsjenniferwinchester

@fromcaintodean @k-slla @jackles010378 @deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused

@mrlonelycat @deans-daydream @leigh70 @aylacavebear @kmc1989

@siampie @rubyvhs @winchestergirl2

[hcverns]

Risks Taken

pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader, minghao is mentioned

word count: 9.4k

warnings: mentions of drinking, cursing, some spice (making out)

genre: angst, fluff (basically angsty stuff with a happy ending), best friends to lovers.

synopsis: in the midst of enjoying his blissful saturday night with you and a romance movie, his world suddenly stopped spinning when you mentioned another guy's name.

a/n: hi oh my god i'm so nervous. this is literally my first fanfic i've ever written. i wrote this for my best friend and i asked her permission to post it on tumblr and she said yes so here i am :) i apologize for the typos and grammar mistakes or any mistake at all, really. likes, replies and reblogs would be much appreciated. much love <3

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was Saturday night. The TV was on in your living room. A rom-com movie was playing on the screen. What was the title, he wasn’t sure. But it was quite entertaining. He had underestimated your choice of movie at first, but you had begged him so nicely with those puppy eyes that always made him weak in the knees. Who could blame him for giving in to his best friend’s request?

So here you two were. Relaxing on the couch while watching a movie. There were a bunch of snacks on the coffee table in front of you. You were sitting side by side, both your feet resting on top of the coffee table without a single care with just the right amount of distance separating the two of you. Just a perfect Saturday night.

Jeonghan stretched his arm to reach for a bag of gummy bears on the table, only to find none of it.

“What the— Hey, did you finish all the gummy bears?” He asked you who were sitting beside him on the couch but his question was responded by silence.

He sighed and shook his head slightly. He turned his gaze to you only to notice that your eyes were focused on the TV screen. Instead of calling you out for finishing the gummy bears, he looked at your features in silence. A small smile appeared on his lips unintentionally. He noticed your hair had gotten longer. It almost reached your shoulders.

He remembered the time when you had cut your hair short. Like short, short. Masculine type of short hair. You’d been so excited to show him. He couldn’t, wouldn’t ever forget the happiness in your eyes when you facetimed him to proudly show him your brand new look. And it really surprised him with how beautiful you looked with that hair. Your excitement and confidence really added into it. He was happy to witness you being brave enough to look different, to look bold, to express yourself just like you had wanted to.

He snapped back to reality when you squealed like a schoolgirl.

“Han, they’re gonna kiss. They’re gonna kiss!” You said in excitement.

Jeonghan furrowed his eyebrows slightly. “What?”

“They’re gonna freaking kiss! You heard me.” You repeated yourself without turning your gaze in the slightest bit.

“How do you know?”

“How could I not? I’ve watched this befo— AAHH! They kiss! See?” You turned your head to him with the biggest smile on your face.

Jeonghan had to fight the urge to say “so fucking adorable” out loud at the sight of his best friend’s smiley face. Instead, he decided to ask you, “You’ve watched this movie before?”

You simply nodded.

“And you’re watching it again?”

You nodded your head again.

He sighed. “Why?”

You jerked your head back in confusion. “What do you mean 'why?'”

“You’ve watched this movie before. Why are you watching it again? What’s the point of watching the same movie twice?”

You rolled your eyes at his question. To you, it sounded so dumb. “Han, have you watched this movie before?”

Jeonghan shook his head.

“That’s why I chose this movie for our movie night. This movie is so good I couldn’t help but share the experience of watching this masterpiece with you. You should’ve thanked me, you know?”

Jeonghan chuckled a little. You really knew how to respond to literally anything. But he really needed to know why you were willing to watch the same movie more than once, so he questioned you again, “Yeah, but why are you willing to watch it again?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Oh boy. Just be quiet, yeah? You’ve watched ‘The Glory’ more than once as well, remember? And it’s a series. A goddamn series!” You laughed sarcastically.

He laughed as well. You got a point. He remembered when he had finished watching ‘The Glory’ for the first time and he couldn’t help but watch the said series again for the second time the very next day.

“You’re silent now, huh?” Your lips formed into a smirk.

“Shut up.” He brushed you off. The trace of his smile was still visible on his lips.

“Anyway, (Y/N), since you were very focused on two people kissing on the screen, let me ask you again. Did you finish all the gummy bears?” He raised his eyebrow.

“That… I did, yeah.” You admitted that it made Jeonghan groan.

“Well, you know what, I think I still have some in the cabinet. I’ll grab ‘em for you.” You quickly added when Jeonghan started to groan. He really did want some gummy bears, it seemed.

A smile quickly appeared on his face. “Wait, really? Don’t worry about it. I’ll do it myself. You keep going with your ‘Lovely Rosie.’” Jeonghan got up from the couch and made his way to your kitchen.

“It’s 'Love, Rosie' you jerk!” You yelled from the living room that made him laugh.

Jeonghan opened one of the hanging cabinets’ doors where you usually kept your snacks. He didn’t have to guess which one because he had been in your place many, many times.

Ever since you had started being best friends, which was roughly six years ago, you had this one night in a week, usually on Saturday night, where you just chilled and watched movies together. Of course it didn’t happen literally once in a week because, as responsible adults, you two sometimes were busy with something. But still, it was a tradition for you.

Jeonghan finally found two large bags of gummy bears in the cabinet. He smiled brightly as he held them with his right hand. He immediately walked himself back to the living room. He was so ready to plop himself on the couch before he took a quick look at you, who apparently were focused on your phone, rather than the TV screen, with a big smile on your face.

Jeonghan furrowed his brows. ‘Why is she ignoring the movie without even pausing it and why is she smiling so damn big now while staring at her phone?’ He wondered inwardly.

He slowly sat himself down on the couch. His best friend’s attention was still on her phone. He noticed your fingers typing something, seemingly.

He waited for a few seconds (which felt like hours) for you to turn your attention to him. Or the TV screen. Or the freaking gummy bears in his hand. Anything but your phone. He got a bad, bad feeling.

His curiosity piqued. He couldn’t help but ask you about it. “You’re texting someone?”

“Yup.” You answered with just one word. But this one word was enough to make Jeonghan’s heart sting a little.

“Oh.” That was all he said. He didn’t want to seem nosy so he didn’t push you to tell him who you were  texting. But not gonna lie, there was a slight pang of hurt in his chest. ‘Who are you texting? Why are you smiling so bright right now?’ He questioned again.

He tried to ease his own worry by forcing himself to think positively. ‘That could be her mom. But who on earth texts their mom with a smile like that??’ The attempt to clear the fog on his brain failed miserably.

“Who?” The word just slipped out of his mouth because apparently he ran out of his self control.

You didn’t answer him immediately and that almost drove him insane.

After a few seconds of you smiling and typing and him resisting the urge to just snatch your phone himself (which again, felt like fucking hours to him), you put your phone down on the couch beside your thigh.

You looked at him, still with a smile on your face. If it were under different circumstances, he would smile back at you. Why wouldn’t he? Your smile was his favorite thing ever after all.

Instead of smiling like he usually did, he raised his eyebrow as a sign that he was waiting for an explanation.

“Sorry, sorry. What was it again?” you innocently asked him to repeat his question.

Without wasting a millisecond, he uttered what was on his curious mind. “Who were you texting?”

Your facial expression turned shy. Exactly like someone who was thinking of their crush. And the pain in his chest increased.

“It’s just… someone.”

“Someone who?” He responded quickly. Demanding for a real and clear answer.

“Was it a guy?” He hoped you couldn’t notice the jealousy in his tone.

And what he hoped for was exactly what happened, but at what cost? You were completely oblivious of his jealousy. A shy smile made an appearance on your pretty face and it was enough to confirm Jeonghan’s bad feeling.

You took a deep breath before answering him. “So, his name is Minghao…”

Jeonghan swore he could feel his heart stop for a second. You mentioning the guy’s name that you had been texting with felt like a stab to his heart. No, that can’t be. He refused to believe it. He really wanted to pull his own hair in frustration but he chose to stay silent as you continued talking about this Minghao guy.

“He’s a barista in Franky n Co, the coffee shop I work in.” Your face got slightly red as you were talking about Minghao to your best friend.

Jeonghan was using all his power to keep a straight face. He even tried to smile a little as a way to make you believe that he wasn’t jealous at all. “Are you guys dating or something?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “N-no. We’re not dating. At least not yet, I hope.” A shy smile appeared again on your face at the end of your sentence.

“So… you like him?”

“Well, yeah. Let’s just say that me and Minghao are in a… what’s it called? Talking stage? Yeah. We’re currently in a talking stage.” You smiled widely as you explained to him what this Minghao guy was to you and it made his blood fucking boiling.

“So he likes you too?” The smile on his face right now was the fakest smile in the whole damn universe. In his mind, he was clenching his fists very tightly to the point that his fingernails hurt the palm of his hands.

Your smile faltered as you were reminded of the uncertainty of Minghao’s feelings for you. “Uh, I’m not sure. I mean, we’ve gone on two dates and they went pretty well. But he hasn’t told me whether he likes me or not and vice versa.”

When he felt his heart was stabbed earlier, this time it felt like the knife had been twisted and made the pain tenfold. ‘Dates. They had gone on two dates. Two fucking dates.’ Jeonghan was on the brink of insanity.

“You two have gone on dates? Tell me about it.” He was scared for a second that you would catch up on the sarcasm that lingered on his words.

You didn’t, though. Jeonghan didn’t know he should be grateful or hateful at your unawareness. Your eyes got excited as you were going to tell him about your dates with Minghao.

“First, it was a movie date. We went to the cinema after we finished our shift. And the second one was three days ago. It was an ice cream date..? I mean, we just went to an ice cream shop after work and we talked about several topics while eating ice cream. And he held my hand all the way home.”

Your voice was so dreamy. It sounded so sweet. If only you were talking about him in that manner rather than Minghao. He didn’t need to hear all those details. He wanted to throw up. He felt sick to his stomach. ‘That coffee maker even had a chance to hold her hand? All the way home??’

Jeonghan didn’t know what this Minghao guy looked like. He didn’t know his personality as well but he really, really wanted to punch him in the face right now.

“That sounds so cute. A movie date and an ice cream date? How adorable.” His words were completely opposite of what was truly on his mind.

“Right! Do you think he likes me back?” you asked him a question that sounds so ridiculous to him. But all he did was shrug his shoulders slightly.

“He could.”

“Yeah? You think so?” you asked him again with eyes full of hope.

‘Hell fucking no.’ That was what he wanted to say. But he wasn’t stupid enough to let that happen. He didn’t want to ruin your mood like that. So he just nodded instead.

Then, the unexpected happened. Something that made Jeonghan’s heart skip a beat. Something that made his jealousy and rage calm down even though only a bit. You squealed and threw yourself at him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

The hug was short, he couldn't help but long for it again when you let go.

“Thank you for convincing me that there’s a possibility of Minghao liking me back. You’re the best, Han!”

Then it came back again. The jealousy and anger. Your smallest words and acts could really put him on a wild roller coaster ride.

Jeonghan swore he didn’t mean it. He just lost control over his movement. He couldn’t think straight so he let his heart take the lead this time.

As a response to you thanking him, he rolled his eyes and scoffed.

And when he heard your small gasp, he knew he fucked up.

“What was that for?” you asked in disbelief.

Jeonghan played dumb by asking you back, “What was what for?”

“Why did you roll your eyes and scoff like that, Han?” He could hear the slight sadness in your tone.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fucking hell. Should he say it? There’s no use in hiding it anymore, right?

He was fighting a battle in his own head now. He sat in silence as his brain was working really hard to decide what his response should be.

“Yoon Jeonghan.”

He quickly looked at you when you called him by his full name like that. He couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to leave your place, got in his car and drove himself to the highway at the speed of a hundred miles an hour while ignoring the red lights.

“What did you even see in him, anyway?” His heart took full control of his mouth now. He really did say the exact thing on his mind without a filter.

“Excuse me?”

Offended. Disbelief. Bewilderment. Confusion. A hint of anger. Jeonghan could see those emotions mixed into one on your face.

“You heard me right.” He didn’t back down. No lame excuses such as “Sorry, I was possessed by an unknown spirit that’s why I was spewing bullshit.” or “Oh, I was just reciting a line from a movie.” Nothing.

“What the fuck?”

He had it coming. He knew you would respond harshly. Those three words were enough to make the pain on his chest more intense. He didn’t say anything in return. He just looked down at the carpet beneath his feet in embarrassment and jealousy. The gummy bears he had taken earlier were long forgotten, just like the movie.

“Han, explain!” you raised your voice just a little at your best friend’s silence.

You snapped. So he did too.

“I don’t like the fact that you like that guy, whatever his name is, okay?”

If he thought that his heart was taking full control of the way he acted and spoke, he was wrong. His head was also taking control. His heart and his head were equally in chaos and clouded by jealousy. So he was sure that the words he just said to you were justified.

And he lied, by the way. He knew exactly the name of that guy.

Meanwhile, you felt like a punch had landed straight on your chest. Your brain couldn’t process the words that came out of Jeonghan’s mouth just now. You didn’t even know how to feel. Of course, you were confused as hell. But other than that, you weren't even sure. Should you feel sad? Angry? What?

“B-but why?”

The way you stuttered was almost enough for his heart to soften and to make him apologize to you immediately. Right, almost. Not entirely, no. Jealousy was still consuming his heart and head.

Jeonghan got a brief and sudden flashback to when his little heart finally had gotten the courage to admit to himself that he indeed had more-than-friends feelings for you.

✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧

It was roughly one and a half years ago. He still remembered the way he had cursed in the darkness of his room, under the warmth of his blanket. He had been in shambles. His brain had short-circuited. He was confused, sad, even angry at himself. He wanted to be angry at you too for being such an absolute flawless human being and had the audacity to effortlessly play with his heartstrings like that.

The thing is, he had never been friendzoned. Never. But he had enough information about it. A complete glossary from A to Z regarding things that were related to the said situation and none of them had a positive connotation. All thanks to his friends. Joshua drank himself to sleep for two weeks straight and Seungcheol had lost several kilos of body mass because of fucking friendzone.

And most importantly, they vented their sadness and frustration to Jeonghan.

Despite laying on his soft bed with a soft pillow under his head, he felt very uncomfortable. He wanted to rest his mind in a peaceful slumber but he just couldn’t. After a few tossing and turning, he heard his phone vibrate on the nightstand.

With a weak hand, he reached for his device and found out who texted him that late.

It was you.

thank you so much for today hannie!! im no longer sad now. in fact this gotta be the best birthday ever with my best friend ever who gave me the best present ever!! goodnite :D

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath. Best friend. He groaned onto the pillow as his brain was recalling the recent event that happened earlier that day. Your  twenty-fourth birthday.

As someone who lived far away from family, you didn’t have the privilege to have your birthday celebrated at home with your parents, siblings and pet cat. You also didn’t have that many friends in the city you currently lived in so your birthday was less lively than the ones you had before you moved out.

You weren't exactly sulky or sour but Jeonghan could see right through his best friend. It was your birthday and he wanted you to have the time of your life. Of course he already prepared a gift for you. A Hogwarts themed lego set which you eyed on when you two were window shopping two weeks ago. But he wanted to do more. He wanted to make your  birthday as joyful as the ones you had in your hometown.

So he asked you to go to a beach. It was spontaneous, really. He didn’t plan it beforehand but he knew a small and beautiful beach just thirty minutes drive from the city called Azure Cove.

He remembered the way your whole face lit up when he brought up the idea of going to Azure Cove as a way to celebrate your birthday. He also could never forget the way you glowed when both of you arrived at the said location. That was the happiest of you he had ever witnessed and he felt some kind of pride for being the reason behind it.

As you were enjoying the rich color of sunset on the beach, Jeonghan went back to his car and took out the Lego set he had bought for you.

And it was the moment that made Jeonghan couldn’t fall asleep that night. The way you hugged him so tightly, your eyes slightly glistened with tears and a tender kiss on his cheek. The kiss. The goddamn kiss that made a switch in his brain flip. The kiss that made him realize that he, indeed, had feelings for his best friend for God knows how long.

He looked back at the text you had sent him. The words ‘best friend’ you put right there made him slightly bitter. Well, you weren't wrong, but Jeonghan wasn’t ready for the cursed ending he would receive for being in love with you. A friend-fucking-zone.

✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧

Back to the current situation.

The flashback got Jeonghan a little bit dizzy. He knew he was going to be friendzoned the moment he’d realized he had feelings for you. But to be honest, he had a sliver of hope that one day, you would see him as more than a friend. People might ask, what made him have such a hope? Jeonghan didn’t know either. A blind optimism? Delusion? Anyway, a hope is a hope.

“I just… I don’t like the fact that you’re seeing that person, you know? A barista? Come on. You can do better than that.”

Jeonghan knew it was a dick move to say something classist like that. He was an accountant and everyone including him knew he earned way more than that Minghao guy. If Jeonghan was in his right state of mind, he would never say anything like that. But he was too angry, too jealous and even too sad. So, again, for him, it was justified.

You never once thought Jeonghan would say something with a classist undertone like he just did now. Your jaw dropped in surprise. You had no idea what to say. Your brain just stopped working because this whole situation was way too unexpected to happen. “What the hell did you just say?”

He scoffed. Oh, this was so not him. “Someone like you should be with someone who, I don’t know, better than that Minghao dude.”

Enough with the speechlessness. You felt like you were being degraded. Although Jeonghan’s degrading words weren’t really for you, still, it was your taste in men that got targeted. With rage in your voice, you talked back, “Yeah? Like who? And what do you mean by someone like Minghao?”

“Like me!”

Uh oh. That was it. His emotions got the best of him. He uttered those words with a raised voice. He often dreamed about confessing to his best friend about his undying love. But not this way. Never this way. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He silently cursed his inability to stay calm and keep things cool. He wanted to beat himself up especially after he saw the shocked look on your face.

You were speechless for the nth time tonight and all thanks to Jeonghan. The soft spoken Jeonghan would never attack you multiple times in one go. When you had been angry just a few seconds ago, you were now confused as fuck. You couldn’t wrap your head around the words he just said. What the hell was that? What did he mean by someone like him? Why would he say that?

“Han, a-are you drunk right now? Did you drink something–”

“I’m not fucking drunk, (Y/N)! I’m sober, okay?” Your words were cut short by Jeonghan’s interruption. That irritated him a lot. Assuming him to be drunk? You must be joking.

“Then why did you–”

“Because I have feelings for you, damn it!"

There. The truth was out now in the open. Lingering in the air of the safe haven in the form of your living room, which currently no longer seemed safe for Jeonghan. Despite the voices of the actors conversing in the movie on the TV screen, Jeonghan could hear his heart beat faster than normal. He could also hear the gears in your head work to process the sudden piece of information he had dropped.

Jeonghan didn’t know how long the silence lasted. It felt like an eternity. He currently had two moods now. He either wanted to bury himself deep into the ground or he wanted to burst into tears.

When you finally moved your lips to say something, Jeonghan felt the urge to throw up. He completely had no idea of what was to come. But in a situation like this, he was sure everyone’s brain was programmed to automatically think about the worst case scenario. And what was the worst case scenario in his head now? You rejecting him in cold blood, telling him that you already had your eye on that coffee maker.

“Y-You’re joking, right?” You finally said.

It pissed him off, truly. Was him having feelings for you that shocking to hear? Hadn’t you seen the signs he had tried to show for the past several months? Well, he was completely aware that he had never said it directly that he was in love with you. But hadn’t you realized he had done so many things for you that he would never do to his other friends?

“Of course I’m not. I’m dead serious, (Y/N)!” He said in frustration. Jeonghan was not backing down. The truth was out. Might as well pour his entire heart out to you after holding it in for so long.

You could feel your heart beat so fast. You had never thought that you would be in such a situation. You didn’t know what to say. Your usual talkative self was in a hibernate mode. Your brain stopped working.

“But… why?” You muttered. You needed more information about whatever the hell was happening now so that you could start to think properly.

Jeonghan, getting even more frustrated now, ran his hands through his hair roughly. Why’d you had to ask him that? Couldn’t you just… reject him right at that moment so that the storm of hurt would pass quickly?

“Why what, huh? Why what, (Y/N)? Why am I in love with you? Jesus Christ, have you looked at you? You’re literally perfect. You have bewitched me with your perfection and I have been very willing to be bewitched by you. It’s a blessing for me to get to love someone like you. You make me happy. You make me feel things I hadn’t felt for so long. I love you, (Y/N). I love loving you.” Jeonghan confessed it all almost in one breath.

Seeing your best friend ramble about how much he loved you wasn’t on your bingo card. You had asked Jeonghan to give you a reason why he loved you and there you got it. Still, you found this entire situation confusing as hell. You still lost your ability to think. The only thing you felt right now was, somehow, guilt.

“Jeonghan…” you said his name oh-so-gently. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”

Your apology somehow sounded way worse than he had imagined. It was worse than being rejected in cold blood. Like, why were you sorry? Jeonghan hated it when people pitied him. Especially you.

He gave you a bitter chuckle. “Of course you didn’t. How could you? I never told you anything about it. Don’t be sorry, please. Nothing to be sorry about. I don’t want you to feel guilty. I don’t want your pity. But damn it. It hurts. It hurts a lot. I love you so much but you don’t love me. Not the way I want to be loved.”

When you didn’t say anything, Jeonghan seized the opportunity to say more. He just wanted to let it all out. Friendship gone, be damned. He had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed anyway.

“You didn’t see it, did you? When I did all those things for you. Things I have never done for my other friends because, well, I don’t really see you as my friend. At least in my imagination.” Jeonghan uttered while looking straight into your orbs.

Then, he averted his gaze downwards towards the beige carpet. “And now you went on dates with this… Minghao dude who I have no idea about at all. I don’t know what he looks like. He must be drop dead gorgeous, huh? I bet I can never hold a candle to him. What a lucky bastard. He’s able to brag about going on dates with someone like you. I don’t know who this Minghao guy is but I despise him already. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I know you think I’m going insane right now. Hell, I probably am. I’m sure I look like a madman but I meant what I said, (Y/N). Every single goddamn word. I meant it.”

You could only look at Jeonghan as he crashed out. All the words he said started to get into your head. You allowed yourself to receive those pieces of information, no matter how absurd your mind made them to be.

You also allowed yourself to dive deep into the memories you had shared with Jeonghan. The moments. The events. All those things where Jeonghan’s actions had clearly shown that he cared for you more than you knew. When he had biked to your place during the rain because his car had broken down. You had experienced immense period pain and you hadn’t been able to stand on your own. So, Jeonghan and his bicycle had made their way to your apartment with a heat pack, chocolate bars and your other favorite snacks.

Despite the discomfort of his soaking wet clothes and the freezing temperature, he had given you the biggest smile when you opened the door. You, being an emotional person that you were, had cried on sight.

That was one of the prime examples of how loud his actions spoke. Even louder than words. You cursed yourself inwardly at how dumb, blind and stupid you had been. All along you had wished for Prince Charming to sweep you off your feet someday, not realizing that your very own best friend had done above and beyond for you under your nose. You couldn’t be more blind than this.

“Please, princess, say something.” Jeonghan pleaded in desperation. The silence was killing him in the most torturous way. He had never deemed himself as someone who couldn’t control his emotions especially when he had an audience in front of him but now was a special case. His vision blurred with tears and he didn’t even hide it from you. This was probably the most vulnerable he had ever been. He had bared his heart and soul in front of you, after all.

You inhaled shakily, readying yourself to say something after being quiet for what seemed like ages.

“Y-You’ve done so much for me…” You looked down and whispered. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at your teary-eyed best friend. “...and I was so blind, wasn’t I?”

The hint of self loathe in your voice didn’t escape Jeonghan’s attention. No. No, no, no. Despite his anger and frustration, his heart softened immediately. He could never watch you blame yourself for anything at all. Ever.

“No, please. It’s not your fault. It’s never your fault. It’s me, alright? It’s all me. I’ve had deep, deep feelings for you but I never said a single thing. I-I’m sorry for my outburst earlier. You didn’t deserve it.” Jeonghan swallowed hard. The lump in his throat almost made him unable to speak.

“W-Why? Why didn’t you say anything? I could’ve been more considerate of how I talked about… things.” Your voice was just above a whisper. Your head was a mess now. You felt guilty and confused at the same time.

Jeonghan wanted to cup your face to comfort you like he had done many times before but he wasn’t sure that you would feel disgusted or not. So, he settled by just grabbing your hand and stroking it with his thumb.

“Hey, it’s alright. Not your fault, okay? And I wouldn’t want you to be considerate of some bullshit and make you stop acting as your usual, comfortable self when you’re around me. I want you to always have your guard completely down when you’re with me.” Jeonghan comforted you while he was supposed to be the one who needed to be comforted.

Your eyes glistened with tears that threatened to fall. “But I hurt you. I’ve hurt you for so long and I didn’t even realize it. I hurt you just now because I selfishly flaunted my dates with Minghao at you like an idiot. I-I should’ve known–”

Jeonghan interrupted you quickly. He couldn’t let you blame yourself any further. He tightened his grip around your hand but it wasn’t too tight to hurt.

“It’s alright. You’re not in the wrong. Yes, I’ve been hurt but that’s just simply inevitable. You didn’t intentionally hurt me.”

Your dam broke. The tears you had tried to hold back were finally free falling now. You leaned closer to Jeonghan, seeking for more comfort and warmth in his arms like you had done a million times before whenever you felt horrible.

Jeonghan’s heart beat a thousand miles per hour. He hadn’t expected you to still want to be this close to him after his confession. Jeonghan pushed all his thoughts away and he wrapped his lean but muscular arms around your body. He stroked the silky strands on the back of your head and let you cry onto his chest. He didn’t mind your tears and snot ruining his shirt. He just wanted to be close to you as much as you wanted to be close to him.

All the overwhelming emotions that you contained were pouring out in the form of your tears. You were sniffling and sobbing on Jeonghan’s shirt, trying to get rid of all the guilt and confusion as Jeonghan kept whispering words of comfort to you.

After you felt like you finally had enough crying, you leaned your head back from Jeonghan’s chest and looked up at him. As beautiful as you were when you cried, the sight was still heartbreaking for Jeonghan because somehow he was the one who caused this. Your eyes were red and puffy and your nose was red as well. Jeonghan slowly reached for your face with his trembling, delicate fingers and started wiping the rest of your tears. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch which caused his breath to hitch. The gesture was beyond intimate.

“I’m sorry for ruining your shirt.” That was the first thing you said after spending your time crying. A bit unexpected, it made Jeonghan chuckle lightly. “That’s alright. No need to worry. I have laundry detergent and a washing machine that works just fine. But… how are you feeling now? Better?” He asked while still looking down at you.

You sniffled again, trying to suck in the snot in your nostrils that had been bothering you. “In a way, yeah. But it’s funny, you know? You’re the one who is hurt and I’m the one who hurt you yet here you are, comforting me while I’m weeping like a loser.” A humorless laugh followed your words.

Jeonghan gave you a tender stare. For him, no matter the reason, if he ever saw you cry, the first thing he needed to do was to comfort you. Reciprocated or not, he would always put you first.

“You know that I could never see you cry, right? Never, ever. Well, unless when we’re watching sad movies.” Jeonghan said with a small smile, trying to lighten up the situation a little. You smiled back at him. Despite your puffy eyes, your smile still looked as pretty as ever.

For a moment, you spent your time like that in silence, staring into each other’s face. It was so intimate. Jeonghan was sure that they were actually the only couple of friends who had ever done this. He got lost easily in your beautiful eyes.

Jeonghan decided to break the silence after some time. Maybe it was just his deluded mind taking control but he believed that the ball was in his court now.

“I need to ask you something, okay? If you’re not comfortable answering, you’re free not to. No pressure, alright?” He said softly, trying not to scare you off. You nodded your head, signalling him to ask you what he wanted to ask.

Jeonghan took a deep breath, bracing himself to ask this dangerous question. “Have you ever… thought about us?” He asked as carefully as possible.

You tilted your head to the side. A gesture you always did whenever you were confused. “Like… romantically?” Your voice was filled with vulnerability.

Jeonghan was so grateful that you could catch up really quickly so he didn’t need to elaborate. His eyes lit up as he nodded, confirming your question. “Yeah, romantically. Have you ever thought about us in that way?” He tried to be as calm as possible but the surge of hope in his voice betrayed him.

Your face turned a bit sad at the confirmation. You bit your lower lip and chewed on the skin there. You didn’t quite know what to say. Never once in your life you had thought of having to face such a question.

Jeonghan picked up your uncertainty and trepidation immediately. Years of being friends with you had made it easy for him to recognize the slightest change in your facial expression.

He stroked your hair lovingly. “It’s alright. No need to be afraid. I’m a big guy, remember? I can handle rejection.” He put on a brave face and a small smile to convince you that he was fine while he was clearly not. Even though he had told you that it was okay if you didn’t want to answer, not gonna lie, he needed to hear what was in your mind. He knew the rejection would hurt him for years but he would rather have that than being kept in the dark for God knows how long.

He kept stroking your hair, trying to make you as relaxed and safe as possible, to show you that you had no reason to be afraid in front of him and you could always be honest whenever you were around him.

You swallowed the lump in your throat before finally speaking up. “I-I don’t know… I’ve thought about it a couple of times.” You said weakly, still with a hint of anxiety.

Jeonghan’s heart skipped a few beats after hearing your words. Like, what do you mean you had thought about them romantically a couple of times? What? HUH?

He had to fight the urge to halt any kind of movements that could ruin the moment. He almost curled his fingers into fists but he couldn’t do that, could he? Absolutely not. Unless he wanted to cause you pain by gripping your hair tightly in his fist. Nope. He wouldn’t do that. He would rather be tied down to a train track with a train approaching than hurting you.

Jeonghan had a really hard time finding his own voice. He tried to speak but no words came out. It was too overwhelming for him. He hadn’t expected this to happen. He had expected you to say “why would I think about us that way?” or something along the line. A big, massive, grand rejection. But, no. This wasn’t a rejection, was it? Nothing had prepared him for this.

Before Jeonghan could say a word, you beat him to it. “But every time I thought about it, it always left me feeling afraid.”

Well, that was another blow Jeonghan had never expected. So the idea of you two being romantically involved scared you. Why on earth? He no longer stroked your hair now. His hands were still around your body but he made no movement.

“And why is that, beautiful? What are you so afraid of? Tell me, please. It’s okay.” Jeonghan finally spoke with a strained voice. He desperately needed to know the reason.

You started to tear up again. You looked down to avoid his eyes. You didn’t want him to see you cry again. You sniffled before you tried to explain to him.

“Because, H-Han, I’m scared of losing you. You’re my safe place. My solace. My comfort. I could act like my very own self unapologetically whenever I’m around you. Y-You’re too precious to me. I don’t want to risk losing you.”

Although he didn’t know what that meant, he had one thing on his mind: he needed to put you at ease. He needed you to know that he wasn’t going anywhere at all. So, he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. His lips lingered there for a second too long but you didn’t mind it. You breathed shakily as you felt his lips touching your skin. You didn’t pull away a single inch and clutched his shirt in your fists before closing your eyes.

Jeonghan pulled away so that he could look at you. The sight of you having your eyes closed was heartwarming and heart wrenching at the same time.

“Sweetheart…” He called you with a lovely term of endearment and it made you open your eyes. He let his fingers stroke the side of your face with such tenderness. “Why’d you even think that you would lose me? I won’t go anywhere. I promise.”

You shook your head before burying your face onto his shirt. His shirt was still wet because of your tears earlier and you feared that you would ruin it even more now.

Jeonghan tightened his embrace around you.

“I-If we were like that a-and shit didn’t work out… like any other relationships out there, we would end up as strangers and I don’t want that. I don’t want to live in a world without you in it. I’m scared, Han…” Your voice was muffled and Jeonghan could feel your tears on his chest through the fabric of his shirt. “I’m so scared…” you whispered weakly.

The revelation hit him like a truck. So that was the reason. Jeonghan hated to admit it but you definitely got a point. No couple had eternity guaranteed for them. Many couples broke up. Many married couples got a divorce. It was a flawed world they lived in, after all.

But, still, call him delusional or whatever, he still wanted to taste the sweetness of loving and being loved by you properly. As lovers. He wasn’t ready to give that up yet. Especially knowing that the line had been crossed anyway after he confessed his feelings to you earlier.

Jeonghan loosened his embrace around you a little.

“Sweetheart, look at me, please. I need you to look at me. Can you do that? Please?” He begged with such gentleness.

You sniffled a couple times before detaching your face from his chest and looking up to him. Your eyes and nose were red again but still, you looked like an angel in his eyes.

He wiped the rest of the tears on your face with his fingers. “Thank you so much for telling me about your fears, princess. I know that wasn’t easy. Thank you.” He gave the top of your head a short loving kiss before leaning back to look at you again.

“I understand where you’re coming from, really. You’re precious to me too. I would rather die than lose you. But… don’t you think it’s worth the risk?”

You opened your mouth to protest but he interrupted you. He hated interrupting you especially in moments like this but he needed you to hear him out first.

“Please, sweetheart, listen to me first, yeah? I know that there are many couples out there that don't get their happy endings. Their relationships lead them to heartbreak. I get it. I understand. But the love that I have for you… it’s massive, sweetheart. And I’m ready to love you a lot more, if you let me. We could create something so beautiful together, don’t you think?”

His words were true and nothing but the truth. He had so much love to give for you. He was trying so hard not to break down in front of you. Slowly, he took both of your hands in his and brought them to his lips. He pressed gentle kisses on your knuckles, a sign to show you that he meant every word he had said, that he was absolutely devoted to you.

With your hands still in his, he continued. “I would do everything in my power to keep you happy. I would never hurt you, ever. I would never let us fall apart. If you let me, princess. Just say the word and I promise I will prove it to you.”

You felt your heart flutter. You should’ve known that your best friend was capable of loving this immensely. Even without the promise, you should’ve known that Jeonghan would go above and beyond for you. The things he had done for you throughout your precious friendship had proven enough. You just had been too blind and too afraid to acknowledge it all. But still, your fears were still there.

“B-But what if we fought? What if we argued and we broke up? What if I hurt you?” you argued weakly.

Jeonghan chuckled lightly. It seemed like you needed more convincing to finally let go of your fears, to be brave to take a step forward.

“Every couple has their own ups and downs, love. Arguments and fights are inevitable. But we could always communicate. We could always tolerate each other. I’m ready to tolerate all of our differences. And if you hurt me, I’m sure you’re able to apologize and learn from it, aren’t you? Same thing goes for me. Besides, we already have a pretty strong foundation, don’t we? We’ve been friends, well, best friends for six years. The only arguments we’ve made were probably when you insisted on having a night out and I preferred to stay in. Or when I forgot to buy your favorite ice cream that one time.”  Jeonghan stroked your face lovingly with a smile on his face, offering you peace and comfort. “I promise you, there’s nothing we can’t handle.”

And with that, your doubts started to go away. You thought back to the days when you had argued over small things. Nothing intolerable. you couldn’t speak any words against him because he had made a perfect point. Maybe it was time for you to finally be brave and let go of your fears. Maybe it was time for you to completely trust him and create something unimaginably beautiful together. you gave him a vulnerable smile.

Jeonghan’s smile widened. “That’s the beautiful smile that I love so much.”

You could feel your face get warmer. You moved your hands and wrapped your arms around his neck loosely.

“I wanna learn how to love you as much as you love me, Han.”

Jeonghan had never been happier. This was the start of a new story he was about to write together with you.

“And I’ll teach you how. I’ll gladly give you all the time you need. Even if it takes forever.”

He searched for any doubt in your eyes and he found none. So, he softly touched your chin. His thumb was playful enough to trace your bottom lip. “You’re so beautiful, do you know that?” He took his courage to lean his face closer to yours.

Your heart was now beating a hundred miles an hour. Were you really about to kiss your best friend? But the idea of that didn’t sound bad at all. If anything, you were anticipating it.

When you didn’t pull away, Jeonghan inched his face closer. Before his lips landed on yours, he saw you close your eyes. Jeonghan smiled at the sight and he finally got rid of the distance.

Soft was an understatement when he felt your lips against his. He rested his lips there, not moving in the slightest. He was giving you a chance to pull away.

Two seconds had passed and you didn’t show any sign of resistance. So, he saw it as an opportunity to move his lips and you immediately followed his movement. The kiss was hesitant and careful but sweet nonetheless.

Despite the tentativeness, the kiss was better than he had ever imagined before. He had fantasized kissing you on the mouth countless times for years. Never once in his wildest dreams had he ever thought he would get to this very moment.

Because it was your first kiss with each other, Jeonghan didn’t want to cross the line. So, he slowly pulled away. But oh, boy, he needed to think twice about not crossing the line because the sight of you, with your eyes still closed, chasing his lips with your slightly parted ones was more than enough to cause a surge of desire coursing through his veins. He cursed inwardly before crashing his lips on yours again. Self control be damned.

This time, the kiss was more passionate and more urgent. As if Jeonghan was in the middle of a desert and you were an oasis. He moved his lips against yours in a sensual, intimate and lustful dance. It had you surprised for a split second but you were quick to give back the same amount of passion into the kiss.

Sensing that you actually wanted it as much as he did, he tried to deepen the kiss by licking your bottom lip, asking for an entrance. You moaned into the kiss and Jeonghan swallowed your needy sound with greed. He drank up your noises and it caused him to let out a low groan.

You parted your lips slightly, giving him access to explore your mouth. Jeonghan wasted no time sliding his tongue into the velvet walls of your mouth. Their tongues met, tasting and exploring each other. The sweetness of your wet muscles made him dizzy with need. He groaned as he deepened the kiss even more.

His hands were wandering from your waist to your hips. He let his fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt before he boldly slid them under it, caressing your bare skin. You let out a gasp at the contact and it almost made Jeonghan growl.

He let his hands roam around freely on your torso as his kisses strayed away from your mouth to your chin and down to your neck. You couldn’t do anything besides letting him use your skin as his personal playground.

Jeonghan eventually pushed you gently to lay on the couch as he positioned himself on top of you, between your legs. You were a moaning and whimpering mess under him. Your needy noises made him want you even more. His lips kept exploring your neck, trying to find one spot that would make you go insane.

His lips weren’t the only thing that was working overtime. He also licked and nipped your throat. Enough to make you jolt with pleasure but not enough to leave a mark.

“You taste so good, sweetheart. I can do this all day.” Jeonghan whispered hoarsely against your neck. His breath was warm on your skin. You couldn’t speak properly because your brain had short-circuited the moment your lips had met.

Your fingers started tugging on his locks. The simple act made him moan. The feeling of your hands pulling his hair was making him go crazy.

“Mmh, H-Han… please– aah!” you arched your back and cried out when he nipped your collarbone.

Bingo. Jeonghan finally found that one spot that made you see stars. He paid extra attention to that one particular area by kissing, licking, nipping and lightly sucking on it.

Jeonghan chuckled at your inability to form a coherent sentence. “You like that, princess?” He gently bit your skin. “Right here, yeah? This one, sweetheart?”

You could only moan and whimper at the sensuality of his words and the way his mouth pleasured you. You weren't thinking when you bucked your hips against his. That was the moment when Jeonghan realized that he was as hard as rock.

He pulled his lips away from your collarbone and looked down on you, making you whine in protest.

“W-Why… Why’d you stop?” you asked as you were breathing heavily. Your heart was still beating so fast.

Jeonghan was panting as well. He was trying to regulate his breathing. He had to close his eyes because the sight of you so pretty under his body was downright sinful. Slowly, he sat back up on the couch and you followed suit.

“Princess… let’s stop, yeah? We can’t… We can’t keep going on. At least not yet. Not right now.” He said once his breath had started to steady.

“H-Huh? Why? Did I do bad–”

Jeonghan quickly shook his head to interrupt you because it was actually the opposite. You were too good and Jeonghan almost couldn’t resist to just take you and claim you.

He cupped your face in his palms, gently stroking your cheeks. “No, sweetheart. Of course not. You did so good. Too good. And that’s the problem.”

You tilted your head slightly to the side. “Why is it a problem?”

Jeonghan chuckled lightly. You were so adorable. “It’s a problem because I want to be a gentleman and take you out on a date first, okay? I don’t want to act purely on my urges like a wild animal. You deserve better than that, love.”

Your face lit up when the word ‘date’ reached your ears. “Yeah? You wanna take me out on a date?”

He nodded his head at your excitement. He wrapped his arms around your body in a loving embrace. “Of course I do, sweetheart. How does tomorrow sound? A nice and warm Sunday would be a good day for us to go on a date, wouldn’t it?”

You snuggled against him. “That would be so good. The sooner the better.” You were smiling from ear to ear.

“The sooner the better, indeed. So, tell me, what do you have in mind? Do you want something fancy or casual as our first date?” He asked as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Your lips curled in a cheeky smile. “Don’t you know the answer already? Come on, we’ve been attached to the hip for years now.”

Jeonghan let out a laugh at your teasing. “You cheeky little thing. Alright. Casual, it is. How about… going to the beach, hm? We could lay on a blanket, under the sun. Maybe we could eat some pizzas as well.”

Your eyes turned starry when he mentioned the beach. That couldn’t be any better. “Which beach, Han?” you knew he would say the correct answer but you asked him anyway.

He smiled at you before bringing your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles. He looked into your eyes and said, “Azure Cove.”

Your smile widened and you gave his lips a short but sweet kiss. Jeonghan’s heart skipped a couple of beats when you did that. He could never get used to this. Any physical contact with you might cause him a small heart attack.

“You and me at Azure Cove with a box of pizza and a bottle of vodka. Sounds like the perfect first date for me.” You gleamed as you rested your head on his shoulder.

Jeonghan stroked your hair tenderly “It’s a deal, then, yeah? I’ll pick you up tomorrow at ten o’clock. I’ll bring your favorite bottle of vodka with me and we’ll go to Azure Cove.”

“I can’t wait.” You said as you snuggled closer against his body, seeking more warmth.

Both of you spent a few minutes in a comfortable silence with ‘Love, Rosie’ still playing on the TV while cuddling each other on the couch. Then, Jeonghan decided to break the silence.

“You know… I might have something to ask from you.” He said with a hint of distaste and mischief.

You turned your head to look at his face. “What is it?”

Jeonghan’s lips formed a handsome smirk. “Ditch that Minghao guy.”

You bursted out laughing and it made him laugh as well. “Oh my God, Han, I completely forgot about his existence the moment you said you like me. Trust me, he’s the least of your concern right now. I got my eye on you and only you.”

Jeonghan had never ever been happier.

[vecnuthy]

The rosegram 🌹

G | wc: 802 | school tradition, pre steddie, fluff; i thought the idea was cute, don't look too closely at it

•🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹•

Hawkins High had a tradition involving the students getting to send rosegrams to their crushes or friends on Valentine's Day, courtesy of office secretary Mrs. Baker's husband, who owned the flower shop in town. The generous donation of roses were up for grabs with the students, and only involved them needing to fill out a tag for their rose – the front held the recipient, the inside revealed the sender. The tags would be tied to a rose stem, then some students would volunteer to pass them out for extra credit for one of their classes.

Steve loved participating in it. Every year, he would grab a few tags and fill them out with his friends and even schmooze up to the teachers, too. He was a charming bastard, sue him! But Mrs. Waters in the library was always so nice to him, especially when he went there for the quiet if he had a migraine.

His senior year was a little different, though. It had been a few months since Nancy called what they had "bullshit," and Tommy and Carol were even older news, so Steve felt bad for himself. Sure, he still had some of his teammates that Billy had so far failed to influence, and Steve still had a rogue date every now and then, but he was alone for Valentine's Day this year. So he filled out a few tags for some teachers and one for himself with the inside blank, thinking that maybe the girl handing out the flowers would be cute, and he could give it to her. Maybe even land a date. If not, he would have a rose.

God, how pathetic.

•🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹•

Valentine's Day fell on a Friday that year. Mr. Baker's delivery truck was relieved of the donated roses that morning, and the tags were tied by volunteer students, then handed out to the others to deliver them.

Needing the extra credit, Eddie grabbed the bundle of roses that Mrs. Baker passed him through the office window as she commanded him to "Fly, Cupid!”

So Eddie did. Usually a cynic that balked on the face of conformity and PDA, Eddie secretly enjoying the way getting a rose tended to brighten people's day, and he loved making a production of it sometimes. He was on his last bundle and had a handful left by the time Eddie got to a tag with “Steve Harrington” on it. Eddie tracked him down in the library during his free period and cleared his throat in the silence, making Steve jump while someone hissed a "shh!"

"For you," Eddie whispered, presenting the rose with a flourish.

Steve paused, just looking at Eddie for a moment before he took the rose from Eddie's fingers and opened the tag to read who it was from. Then he looked back up at Eddie.

"It's blank," he whispered.

Eddie frowned down at him. "Okay?"

Steve considered him for a moment, then swallowed, his cheeks going a little pink, then asked, "Who's it from?"

"I don't know," Eddie said with a bit too much snark and volume, earning another sharp "Shh!" from their left. Eddie lowered his voice, "I don't have a list of senders, so you'll have to figure it out."

Eddie turned to leave but stopped when Steve whispered, "Did you get one?"

Eddie shot him a pointed look. "No. Look–" Eddie cut off whatever Steve had opened his mouth to say, "–I'm just your resident cupid passing them out, so if you would excuse me–"

"Wait!" Steve hissed. "You take it."

Eddie scrunched his face in disbelief, because was this guy for real? But Steve insisted, holding it out closer to Eddie.

Eddie looked around, waiting for somebody to jump out and reveal it was a prank, but nobody was posting attention to them. He looked again between Steve and the rose. "But somebody gave you that."

Steve frowned and looked down at the blank tag, then looked back up at Eddie, saying, “Doesn't look like it. Here." Steve then grabbed his pen and put it to the tag.

Eddie watched the pen strokes form on the paper, then–

“Happy Valentine's Day," Steve told him with the rose held back out to him.

Eddie put the other roses down on the wood table and tentatively took the rose from Steve's hold, still not really sure if it was a prank or what, but Steve's smile, though small, seemed genuine, if not a little eager. Eddie held the tag and saw that Steve had scrawled "for Cupid" on the inside.

"Thank you?"

The nod and smile Steve gave him made the unease in his stomach morph into a flutter of butterflies, so he grabbed the other roses off the table and, hopefully, turned in time to hide how red his face had grown.

[silverthehedgehogexplained]

Explaining Silver the Hedgehog's Eyes

Silver's eyes are another nuanced and sometimes confusing aspect of his character. So in this post I'll go over the nuances and meaning of their design. There are three key details to understand about Silver's eyes.

Part One: First, we have the shape. Silver's eyes have an angular shape with pointed upper corners to them.

I liken this shape to the upper wings of a butterfly.

This can be easy to miss due to how his 3D models are rendered and how they line up with his quills but always becomes more noticeable whenever Silver squints or closes his eyes. Just like Shadow and Jet's eyes they don't always end in a sharp point but they do always end in a somewhat pointed upper corner for the butterfly wing shape.

This is what's called Tsurime(meaning upturned eyes), which in character design represents aggressiveness, strong will, danger and/or general seriousness in a character in contrast to tareme(meaning downturned eyes) or round eyes which generally represents softness.

I will refer to Tsurime Eyes as Danger Eyes or Blade Eyes and Tareme Eyes as Soft Eyes.

If you've ever seen Yu-Gi-Oh!, this is the main visual difference between Yugi and Yami Yugi. It is also the main difference between Tails' bullies from Sonic Origins.

These eye types can express more than just seriousness or softness. Rouge has round eyes yet is very mature and can be even more serious than Knuckles(who has Danger Eyes) while someone like Fang the Hunter has sharp Danger Eyes yet is a very comedic villain.

All of Sonic's main rivals(Metal Sonic, Knuckles, Shadow, Blaze, Jet, Silver and Surge) have Danger Eyes while Sonic himself normally has round Soft Eyes to show his carefree nature but also gains sharp Danger Eyes when he transforms into Super Sonic or the Werehog to show that he's in a more aggressive and serious state.

Silver's 3D character models have usually had eyes that appear more round compared to his 2D art but his newest character model has the sharpest eyes yet and is the most like his 2D art.

Part Two: Next, we have the black patterns(officially called black patterns in Sonic Speed Drawing) around Silver's eyes. The part that is easy to miss here is that the patterns run all the way around his eyes and under his front quills, similar to Blaze's eyeliner.

This detail can be easy to miss because the patterns do stop at the sides of his eyes on his in game 06 model(but not the pre-rendered cutscene model) and later media rarely show Silver at an angle where you can see them.

Part Three: Lastly, we have how they intersect with his leaf hair. Silver actually has bangs that cover the top parts of his eyes and perfectly line up with the upper corners which we can see by comparing the concept art of Silver to Super Silver where his quills rise up and reveal a bit more of his eyes.

This can be a source of confusion itself because the quills cover/perfectly line up with the upper corners of his eyes and leave what appears to be the round sides, making them appear completely round if you don't look closely.

In Summary: Silver has butterfly wing shaped eyes, black patterns around them and his front quills are bangs that partially cover them. Know these three details and you can always draw Silver's eyes right!

[detectivestucks2]

Toji as Your Ex Husband

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Toji x F!Reader

Summary: Toji sees you at the park with your kid while he was on a job and becomes obsessed with seducing you into weekly quickies in the back of his car

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex, toy usage, unprotected sex, anal play, cum feeding

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!!

Ex Husband Toji who you only thought of twice as you got ready for your Valentine’s Day date. Your shimmering baby pink dress looks adorable against your skin complexion. Paired with black leather high heel boots and a leather choker, you skate the line between edgy and classy in a most seductive way.

Ex Husband Toji who you continue to push out of your mind as you finish fluffing your brows and running one last coat of mascara over your lashes. Proud of the way you look, once you stand up straight and really observe the end result, you can’t help but post a selfie of how cute your blind date look came together.

Ex Husband Toji who blows up your phone with four missed calls and eight text messages as you enter your uber, heading off to your date

You’re going on a date? Since when are you seeing someone?

What’s his name?

Don’t ignore me. Name. Now.

We’re really playing this game, huh? 

I forbid you to go out tonight. My wife isn’t slutting herself out on Valentine’s Day.

If you don’t respond to me, I’m coming to get you.

Woman, respond to me or else.

You think this is funny? Let’s see who’s laughing once I come over. 

Ex Husband Toji who’s threats you ignore, knowing he no longer has any control over your life. The Zenin lad may still call himself by your last name but he has no right to continue to soil your family’s legacy with his dirty work. 

Ex Husband Toji who secretly enabled a tracking app on your phone so he doesn’t need you to respond to his text messages. He can confront your bratty behavior at the restaurant where he plans to teach you a lesson you won’t forget. He hops on his motorcycle and rides to your location, stalking through the crowds outside several restaurants till he’s on top of you. Eyes anxiously scouring the hordes of people, he uses his height as a vantage point till he sees you, his gorgeous ex wife who had no business being here unless it’s with him. 

Ex Husband Toji who’s heart stops when he sees you with another man. Sure he’s a pretty boy, but his muscles are just for show. He obviously can fight and doesn’t know anything about protecting you. This boy can’t provide for you the way he can. You don’t need this guy, you need someone like him. Anger and desperation brew in his gut and he marches over to where you sit, ready to make a scene. 

Ex Husband Toji who scares you when he pops up next to you, “Toji! What are you doing here?!” 

“Why are you mad at me? I’m the one who’s wife is on a date with a stranger on Valentine’s Day! How could you do this to me, baby?” 

“Baby?”

“Woah, wait” your date interjects, “You’re married?!”

“No!” 

“Yes!”

“We’re not married, Toji! You know as well as I that we got divorced last year. Let it go. Move on.”

“I’m not moving on. You’re my wife. Till death do we part.” Your pulse thunders in your neck as your anger rises.

“Look, I’m not trying to get in the middle of anything.” Your date says, with his hands raised. “I just wanted to meet a nice girl, I don’t have time for whatever this is.”

“No, wait!”

But your date didn’t listen, he took out his wallet and dropped a $50 on the table before staring at Toji’s mountainous figure in horror, and scurrying off to his sports car.

“Good, now that the trash has taken itself out, we need to talk”

“No we don't, Toji. Leave me alone. Haven’t you done enough this evening?” You stand up in fury, making to leave when he snatches your wrist.

Ex Husband Toji who grips you so tightly you feel your skin bruise. His desperation makes him forget his strength as he stares at you, trying to understand what he just witnessed. You were with another man. You dressed like this for someone else. His soul felt like it had been crushed, and just like that the anger returned.  “What you did tonight is unacceptable” he fumes, “apologize.”

“Are you insane?!”

“Apologize or I will bend you over right here and give you a spanking.”

You tug at your arm, trying to free your wrist from his clutches, but his grip is too strong. You begin to whine as you realize how useless your efforts are. With a sickening smirk Toji yanks you to him and lays you over his knees. “No Toji!” you shout but the hand gripping the back of your neck is unmoving. His muscles are so massive that even his forearm is difficult to grip as you struggle. The combined efforts of both of your hands are no match and before you can do anything to stop him, Toji is striking your backside for insubordination. 

Ex Husband Toji who has you yelping and shouting in the middle of a fancy restaurant on one of the busiest nights of the year, publicly shaming you for trying to move on, and for acting like a little slut. When he feels you still haven’t learned your lesson he lifts your skirt so your bottom is barren except for the thin fabric of your lace thong. The sight begins to make him drool but his fury rages on and his palm turns the flesh fuschia before the eyes of every patron dinning nearby. 

Ex Husband Toji who is tapped on the shoulder by the restaurant’s manager, demanding Toji leave or they’re calling the cops. Rounding his shoulders and cracking his neck, Toji stands up, holding you around the waist. When you try to walk away he grips you tightly and throws you over his shoulder. “Like hell, woman. You’re coming with me.”

Ex Husband Toji who carries you to his motorcycle with you protesting the entire way. It didn’t matter how much you kicked or how hard you punched his back, he set you down on the seat of his bike like you were a toy doll and sat behind you, caging you in to make sure you wouldn’t jump off. When he starts his bike he spins out towards your home and your gut fills with rocks, knowing nothing good is going to come from this. 

Ex Husband Toji who kicks open the side door of your home as he drags you inside still protesting. He doesn’t understand why you continue to resist him when there’s no point. “Stop Toji. I’m home, okay? I’m home, there’s no guy coming. You can leave now.”

“NO! I’m not leaving. I left you too many times. I can’t do it anymore.”

Something twitches in your abdomen, something like a tiny butterfly as you see one of the most gorgeous men on this planet’s face crack with sadness at the thought of leaving you. “No, Toji.” you say softer than before. “We don’t work. We tried and this doesn’t work.”

“I’ll make it work” he says as he comes closer, hands tracing up your forearms and biceps. “Please baby. I need you.”

“You don’t need me.” you whisper as you look down. “You could have any woman you wanted.”

“Not when that woman’s you.” he whispers back.

Ex Husband Toji who brushes a strand of hair behind your ear before pulling you into a kiss. That twitch in your stomach erupts into full on butterflies and at the same time you’re kicking yourself for caving because this only ever leads to one thing…

Ex Husband Toji who tears off your dress before carrying you into the room and tossing you on the bed. You grapple at his shirt as he removes his belt, laying it on the bed before he lowers his pants, tossing them aside. Once naked, he pulls off your boots, one by one, kissing each leg as he does so. 

Ex Husband Toji who spreads your legs, cause he is the only man allowed to do so, licking and nipping your inner thighs while enjoying how you flinch from sensitivity. When his mouth finds your center he bites down on your bud, making you scream from both pain and pleasure. Your hands fly into his messy black locks, pulling him off and pushing him back into you, unable to decide what you want. His tongue flicks out of his mouth paying special attention to your nub before pointing and slotting into your center. Your head lolls back and you moan, the sound ringing in Toji’s ear like a an anthem. You grind your hips up into his mouth, fisting his hair and pushing his face into you. He won. He knew he would, but the victory is just as sweet, nonetheless. 

Ex Husband Toji who turns you into a needy puddle with his mouth before denying you your orgasm. Your upset whine brings a mischievous grin to his lips. “Not so fast, hun. We have some behavior to address.” Just as you register what he means, Toji reaches for his nearby belt and slips it around your neck, the end already threaded through the buckle. He yanks on the leather as he flips you onto your knees, letting it bite into your column. Your fingers try to slip into the loop, to release the pressure but it’s too tight. 

Ex Husband Toji who sinks his weighty girth into your dripping hole as he chokes you. “I knew a filthy slut like you would get wet from being treated like a bitch. You like your new leash? I hope so, cause you’ll be wearing it awhile.” He continues to berate you, his hips beginning to grind into you. 

His member throbs in your walls as he drags in and out of you, pushing in and retreating slowly. But it was too slow. Even though he had you drooling, you wanted more. You begin to throw your hips back and a dangerous chuckle fans your ear. “Oh, is that what you want? Okay baby. I can give you that.”

Ex Husband Toji who wraps the leather around his knuckles, tightening your leash before he pistons into you. His breathing labors and his lungs grunt. Your eyes flutter from the familiar sounds, it is all so dirty and erotic, you clench around him tighter, unable to hide your arousal. “That’s it baby. Just like that. Take this dick like the good little slut you are.” You cry out, feeling him tighten the belt again. You can barely breathe and it makes you so wet your fluids are dripping onto the bed. 

Ex Husband Toji who pounds into you, bouncing you off his pelvis as he spears your cute little cunt. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes from oxygen deprivation while the most whorish sounds fill the room. He turned you into exactly what he wanted. His slut, serving him and only him. You feel like a slave to his passions. This is how he gets you every time. This is how you ended up marrying him. He fucked you till you said yes. 

Ex Husband Toji who spanks your already red rear as he hammers into you, reminding you of the naughty girl you’ve been, trying to give this pussy to another man. This is his pussy, and no one else is allowed to touch it. He’ll make sure you remember this lesson. Manipulating you with his belt, Toji whips you over to your back and folds you in half. He pushes your feet to your ears and raises his body so he can pummel down into your folds, making you scream from the intensity. You sound so beautiful when you’re like this, all mouth and no words. You try to form them, it’s not as if there’s a lack of effort, he just gets you so good you grow dumb on his length. 

Ex Husband Toji who pulls your face up to his by fisting your hair. Your eyes scrunch in pain but at the end of the day, you like it rough. If he were more prepared he would’ve brought the whip you like, but for now he’ll settle for his hands. He tugs your face to his lips so he can kiss you feverishly. You open your mouth obediently, waiting for him to spit in it before he dives his tongue in to dance with yours. 

Ex Husband Toji who loses his composure after the kiss, becoming more beast than man as he quickens his pace and pumps into you so hard that your entire bed is rockings, scooting inch by inch across the floor from how he chases his orgasm. He doesn’t even care if you cum because 1) you didn’t earn it and 2) he knows you're going to anyway. You have a habit of finishing at the same time he does so when your velvet interior flutters around him just as a prolonged scream released from your throat, it does the trick and his seed explodes inside of you, painting your cavern white and swimming into your cervix, looking to get you pregnant before you can come to your senses. 

Ex Husband Toji who pins you down, exerting his power over you for a few more minutes, while he can. He looks down on your glazed over eyes, savoring how he can wreck your body and praying his spend finds its way to your fallopian tubes to make a baby. He needs you to get pregnant so he never has to let you go.  

Ex Husband Toji who gets to spend the night because you passed out shortly after he finished. He gets up to go to the bathroom and grabs you a washcloth, cleaning up your legs before tucking you under the bed covers. When he’s done he slips between the sheets with you, and presses his body against yours, falling asleep immediately because for the first time in months he is home and he isn’t going anywhere. 

Masterlist

[twopoppies]

In an earlier post you mentioned Gabi’s blog being deleted. I’ve read others saying the same thing but I’ve never been able to find the story of what happened. I’m assuming Gabi had a bunch of Larry information. Did she delete her blog or was it deleted by another party?

Oh, Gabi had a very popular blog here for about eight years. She was extremely detail-oriented and thorough and had the best tagging system of anyone. It was organized in a way that new fans or antis or whoever could just scroll through and see, point by point, why we believe the things we believe. And there were photos and links backing EVERYTHING up.

When the pandemic hit, I was literally getting hundreds of new followers a day for a while. I'm sure Gabi was getting more. And any time someone had a question people couldn't easily answer, we would just say, "Check out Gabi's blog and then come back if you still have questions."

Anyway, at some point during that period, there was a renewed interest in Babygate (because so many new and bored people were discovering it), and something from Gabi's blog was featured in an article on it. One day after that Gabi's blog was gone. She couldn't log in. She messaged Tumblr dozens of times. Her friends messaged. Tumblr was super helpful until we told them what blog we were trying to recover. Then it was crickets. Gabi eventually just gave up and went on with her life.

It was some time later that @daisiesonafield-blog and I realized all of her posts were missing. Tumblr would have no reason to do that. And that's not what naturally happens when a blog deactivates or deletes; their posts still exist on the blogs of everyone who reblogged them. But not Gabi's. They were wiped.

It's the same thing we've been saying about Larry all these years: If you want us to believe it isn't real, stop trying to make us believe it isn't real. Stop being so fucking shady about everything.

[bangtanhoesthings]

Long ask.

Forgive me, this will be all over the place.

I have noticed that over the past few years the hate for the boys has been escalating particularly for Jimin, Jungkook and Joonie.

For Joonie, among other things, because as a leader, if they break him, they might break BTS. (Gosh look at him😭. Has me my man, my man, my man-ning all over the place like a dog in heat, it's embarrassing and a little concerning). Sorry, I digressed but look at him 😭😭😭, y'all don't thirst over this man enough. Woof! 🫦

Anyways, moving on.

For Jungkook, among a plethora of other reasons, because of the unrivaled, unmitigated global success he has had and continues to have (am so proud of my funky lil popstar ✨).

He came, he saw, he conquered. Kicked ass and took names. Ate and left no crumbs. Had them by the neck. Pulled up and shut it down (Somebody stop me 😭)

The way some army attribute his success to the 🛴 guy boils my blood, and that rage is for another day.

This post is towards Jimin.

Jimin's hate is both from outside and inside the fandom ( am not talking about solos, toxic shippers, mantis and the like) but people who claim to be 0T7.

I know that Jimin has had haters for years but the shady tweets I saw during the FACE and MUSE era from so called "ARMY" said a lot. Am not here to debate who is or isn't ARMY. That's for another time.

My question is, why does Jimin's success seem to be a sore spot for some 0T7s? The one reason I have been able to come up with is that Jimin sort of messed up the hierarchy system.

Let me explain and see if I make sense. For a long time, when people thought of the maknae line, no matter the order in which they ranked Tae and Kookie, Jimin was always the third one. Too many posts relegating him to the role of cheerleader and not much else. I saw posts before solo works commenced dismissing the idea that Jimin would ever release an album but would instead fully support the others. Well, he not only released two solo albums, but was also a composer, lyricist among other things, so they can take their opinion and smoke it.

When the solo era started, people had different expectations for what every maknae members would achieve but no matter the expectations, those for Jimin were that he would be third. Bronze medalist if you will.

FACE was released, Like Crazy got to number 1 and I logged off twitter. We were in hell particularly when it went from 1 to 45 after Billboard deleted over 100k sales and changed the rules (thank you Travis Scott for freeing Jimin and finally taking that number 1 spot). The hate from outside was expected, it was when it came from within the fandom that it hurt.

Fast forward to MUSE and it got worse. Sprinkle in a dash of Are You Sure and we have

Here I have a list of things I have noticed

1. An increase in the number of people talking about how they hate PJMs and how they are making them turn against Jimin. Honey, if a solo can make you dislike one member, you aren't sh*t anyway.

2. Dislike for Jimin disguised as dislike for his solos. If you haven't seen it, consider yourself lucky.

3. How sometimes ARMY came in droves when a member didn't achieve something but Jimin did. For example Spotify US. When a new song failed to enter but Jimin's songs increased ( during both LC and Who era).

4. His long run on the hot 100 has really revealed people's true colours. It's not his fault. Blame the fandom for their clear bias.

5. The number of ARMY accounts on X low key calling AYS fanservice.

6. Discourse on Jimin's ability to sing. I don't argue with stupid people.

I could go on and on but what I am trying to say is that in a perfect world, it would be wonderful if all the members had the same support from ARMY. The discrepancy needs to be addressed (caused by a multitude of reasons) but making it a member's fault and not the fandom is asinine.

I used to be a 1D fan and my favourite member to date is the least favourite and successful, Louis Tomlinson but that doesn't mean I hate on Harry, Zayn or Niall for their success. I wouldn't even know where to begin.

What prompted this you may ask? I saw a post talking about Jimin being the company and fandom fave and having special support. Like huh?

All in all what I am trying to say is that Jimin really shook things up and some people resent him for it. That one post (article?) about Jimin bringing out either admiration or envy keeps getting proven right.

Keep supporting this angel for a long and happy life.

What do you think are some other reasons for the increase in the 0T6 agenda against Jimin?

[myjjongie]

☾ BITE ME ── p. jongseong

IN WHICH: the vampire that always crashes at your place saves you from danger. going back to your place, you both finally have a well deserved heart to heart moment.

PAIRING: vampire!jay x human!fem reader GENRE/WARNINGS: lowercase intended !!, one shot, fluff, skinship, kissing, they make out frfr, biting (fangs), slight sexual harassment, mentions of blood once again WORD COUNT: 2.4k ₊⊹♡ EVIE'S NOTE: another morning another early ass post. per everyone's wish i have made part 2. won't say much on it cause i don't wanna spoil things. but i hope i delivered part 2 well. but yes hope you guys like it. btw vampire jay ily PART I

your arms wrapped around your body. hands underneath your arms hoping to keep them warm. the air in the night was cold yet crisp, as you made your way home from work.

you made a turn into the shortcut you first met jay at all those nights ago. once again it was weeks since you last saw him. you instinctively frowned at the thought of him. jay made it seem like he’d be back within the week.

yet here you were again waiting around for him. promising yourself the next time you saw him you’d give him a piece of your mind. that is if he isn’t covered in wounds like every other time he stops by your place…

a deep sigh left your chest, your warm breath turning into a ghostly mist. continuing your trek home the sudden sound of approaching footsteps stopped you for a moment.

usually the shortcut to your apartment was rarely used. only known to those who lived in your building. despite that it was one am at night, no one would be walking home at this hour. your pace quickened wanting to get out of the alley way as soon as possible.

as your pace quickened so did the footsteps behind you, even if they sounded uneven with your own. each beat felt like it echoed louder than the last. a frantic rhythm matching the pounding in your chest.

almost making it to the end of the alley, your body was forcefully pulled back. body turned around to be met with the pungent smell of alcohol.

“what’s a pretty lady like you doing here so late at night?”

the minute the man’s breath hit your nose, bile formed in your throat. you yanked at your wrist in hopes of getting out of his grasp. to your demise even in his drunken state the man’s grip was strong.

swallowing back the urge to vomit you spoke through clenched teeth. “let go of me…”

the man laughed giving you a drunken smile. a chill running down your spine. your life flashing before your eyes in that second. panic soon set in. your mind hurriedly figuring out how to escape from him.

“come on. don’t be stubborn. let’s have a good time together.” his words came out in a slur as his body began to sway.

“go to hell.”

the man’s joyful expression soon twisted to anger. his brows knitted into annoyance. taking note in the change of attitude your body went into flight or fight mode. adrenaline pumped through your veins as you strongly kicked the man in his shin.

you had hoped to kick him with the intent of aiming in the area where it would hurt must. but ultimately fell short.

the man let out a ragged breath, soon cursing out in pain. his grip on you loosened. perfect timing to run away. you turned on your heels and bolted. but only after a few strides, did your legs buckle. sending you to the ground. as you fell to the ground, your palms steadied your fall. turning your head to check on the man you eyed his movements.

noticing him let go of his aching shin. fear dawned on you as he got ready to chase you down. ignoring the stinging of your palms you forced yourself back up. you began to run again. despite the sharpness of the cold air slicing at your skin. you ran, pushing past the stinging in your legs and hands.

tears began to burn into your eyes. the echoing of the drunken man’s yelling frightened you. your vision began to blur from the tears. as you aimlessly blinked and wiped them away, your body collided into someone. your already frantic thoughts worsened. fearing that the man wasn’t alone this whole time.

the new stranger wrapped an arm around your body. his firm grasp was tight as you began to punch at his chest. unable to see who was the drunken man’s accomplice. you began to fight your way out of his grasp.

“yn it’s okay it’s me.”

your ears perked at the all too familiar voice. soon your hands that were hitting at his chest stopped. the firm hold that felt threatening was replaced with familiarity. it was jay.

“jay…” your voice came out weak as you looked up at him. cheeks drenched with your tears as more still fell from your eyes.

you looked into his eyes a habit you formed over the year. the usual burgundy color shifted into a deep crimson. a hue so intense it glowed under the moonlit alley.

“you know i don’t like it when you cry..” his tone was gentle. a soothing hush to calm the constant pounding in your chest.

his lips gently pressed against your forehead. a reassurance to show you were safe. safe with him. “get behind me okay?” obliging to his words you hurried behind him.

your shaky hands tightly held onto the bottom hem of his leather jacket.

“leave..” instead of the gentle tone jay had with you, it was now demandingly cold. jay’s red eyes shined as his voice deepened with the intention of hurting the man if he refused to listen.

you faintly heard frantic breathing. then the drunken man’s voice loudly breaking through the deafening silence. “what are you?!”

instead of the sound of confrontation, the sound of hurried steps instead echoed out into the distance.

“he’s gone.” jay’s once cold voice altered the second he spoke to you.

you eerily peeked from behind jay’s arm, eyeing out if the man was really gone or not. seeing the now empty alley way your panic faded. you gripped the jacket tighter as you softly spoke.

“thank you. if you weren’t here i. i don’t know what would’ve happened.” tears began to brim your eyes once again. jay turned around to look at you. mostly needing to make sure that thing didn’t harm you. he couldn’t help but lift his hand to wipe away the faint tears.

a satisfied sigh left his chest seeing you unscathed. your head raised to look up at him, head tilting at his sigh. when looking at him you noticed his eyes were back to the burgundy color you loved.

remembering the promise of scolding him your brows furrowed ready to scold the vampire. yet before even doing so jay’s breathing staggered. his focus wavered as his senses picked up on something in particular.

“are you okay?! were you hurt before you got here?” your tone immediately shifted to worry. jay’s body soon swayed. causing you to help steady him.

“no. i’m not hurt. there’s a smell that’s. it’s so sweet.” his voice came off ragged as his breathing increased. his desperate breathing reminded you that of a fever. raising your hand to his forehead, it felt hot to the touch. that’s when you noticed it. your palms faintly covered in red. the sweet smell jay was talking about was from you. it was your blood.

“shit.” you couldn’t help but curse under your breath. the only thing you could do now was drag jay home.

finally stumbling through the entrance of your apartment, you rested against the door. a sense of deja vu washing over as you caught your breath. you steadied jay against the wall, preparing to take both your shoes off. before even trying to do so, you were caged against the door. the sudden action catching you off guard.

you looked up at jay. his eyes casted a dark tone to them. his desire once again piling up. every inch of him felt like it was burning with that desire. but he needed to control himself. yet that same control was slipping through his fingers.

“yn..” jay spoke in a husked whisper. almost as if. no. he was yearning for you. how could he force himself to pull away. especially when you were right there. so close to him. his forehead pressed against yours, half lidded eyes studying your features. he needed you.

eyeing the mole he noticed weeks ago. his eyes scanned for face. he had to know if you’d be okay with this. okay with him, his desires, the carnal need to sink his fangs into you. yet there you were standing before him. not a single doubt written on your face.

jay’s hands left the side of your body to hold your face. you melted into his touch. everything with him always felt just right. his thumbs caressed your cheeks gently.

“i… i’ve wanted this for so long…” he murmured. soon his lips gently met with yours. the soft press of his lips sent a shiver down your spine. the sensation was cold yet held a touch of warmth to it.

jay’s hands that cupped your face now found its way at your waist. one arm holding you tightly to his body while the other was planted on the door. as the seconds went by jay’s kissing became more earnest, more heated. his tongue swiped at the bottom of your lip. a silent invitation to deepen the soon intimate kiss.

your breath hitched as your lips parted for him. the kiss deepening as your tongues met together. heat soon rose between your bodies. jay’s hold only pulled you closer to him. the space of distance feeling unbearable. his kissing soon turned sloppy leaving a quiet moan to slip between your lips. to then be swallowed by another kiss.

the kiss between you two was truly more than heat. it was a years worth of silent yearning. mixed with the ache of jay’s fear spilling into this moment. you could feel the entirety of his need. the way his body clung desperately to yours. fearing as though you’d slip away from his grasp now that he had you.

jay finally parted from the kiss. he watched as you gasped softly for air, all while he steadied his own breathing. your fingers burned as you held onto his shirt for support. small jolts of a tingling sensation shooting through your body. jay couldn’t help but eye at how swollen your lips looked in this moment.

he would be lying if he didn’t enjoy this more than he anticipated he would’ve. once more jay leaned back down to kiss you again. but instead of doing so deeply. he began to lay kisses along your cheeks. to your jawline. then to your neck.

once meeting your neck his movements stopped. his head rested on your shoulder as he eyed the side of your face. noticing the absence of his affection you looked over at him. your gentle eyes meeting his regretful ones.

“are you sure…” he sounded hesitant. worried that you weren’t one hundred percent about your decision. “you’re like a moon to me yn. always there for me even when everything else feels dark. you alone bring light to me when i need it most. i don’t wanna lose you to this. this desire of a vampire…”

“you won’t lose me jay. i don’t care about the danger, or the hunger, or the difference in our worlds. i care about you. i love you.” your hand reached up to his cheek. a gentle finger caressing his face in reassurance.

“god. i’ve loved you since that first night.” his voice breathless as he continued to speak. “i’ve always found myself coming back you, all those nights since then.” jay’s hand took yours bringing your palm to his lips. soon kissing and licking away the blood that stained your hand. the sensation was ticklish causing a gentle laugh to come out.

now as both your hands were intertwined jay resumed his original actions. not only did he leave pecks of kisses along the nape of your neck, but faint nibbles. occasionally sucking at your skin leaving a visible mark.

the more he spent his time in the crook of your neck. the more his fangs started to protrude out. once happy with the litter of love bites all over your neck he raised his head.

“i’m gonna bite you now okay?” his eyes still held doubt. understanding if you wanted to back out now before it was too late.

once he has a taste of your blood he would never wanna live without it. that was the curse of his desire he had to live. even if it meant for the rest of his life. a desire he prayed will never hurt you.

“it’s okay, jay. bite me…” your voice was a hushed whisper as you tilted your head more to the side. opening up the crook of your neck more for him.

you squeezed your eyes shut as you braced for the pain. soon there it was. a burning sensation pulsing through out your neck. a whimper left you lips as his fangs sank deeper into your skin. you could feel jay hesitate, ready to stop. your fingers tangled into his hair, easing his worries. signaling it was okay.

finally jay’s fangs settled into your neck. the taste of your blood made his body tremble. the taste was unlike anything he had before. it was sweet yet bitter. something that would forever be distinct to you.

your body began to weaken as he sucked up your blood. noticing the way your legs gave in jay knew it was enough. un sinking from your neck he raised his head. jay couldn’t help but admire the new symmetrical dots that stood out on your neck. a mark that showed you were his.

jay took notice of your groggily demeanor. taking it upon himself, he scooped you into his arms.

now settled into the bed you couldn’t help but sleepily play with his fingers as he patched up your lightly torn palms. once satisfied with his work he got into the bed getting comfy next to you.

“you’re not gonna disappear for weeks on end anymore right?” you stared up at him with heavy eyelids. sleep slowly yet steadily lulling you in.

“of course not. i’ll be here right by your side always.” jay leaned down to place a chaste kiss to your forehead. as he stroked your hair gently.

“good. that means you need a phone so i can get in contact with you whenever—” before you could pester on, you dozed off. your breathing gentle and rhythmic. jay couldn’t help but tuck a hair behind your ear. eyeing your sleeping face as he smiled down at you.

“yes yes. anything for you my lune. sleep well.” his words were hushed as he pulled you closer to him. exhaustion soon weighing down on him as well.

perm taglist ( open! send a ask to be added ) . . . @ikeulove @leehsngs @nickiminajleftasscheek @ijustwannareadstuff20

©myjjongie 2025

[mrsshabana]

♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 ♡ 𝐄𝐦𝐨!𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ♡

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Emo!Gyutaro x female!reader, modern au, college au, fluff ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.5k words. Sorry I'm posting this so late, I had almost no time to write it so it's very rushed. But I wanted to give everyone something to read today even though it's short. Happy Valentine's Day!

God, did Gyutaro hate Valentine's Day.

Everything about it disgusted him. From the bright colors and sweet smells to the mushy feelings and love confessions. Thinking about the horrid day made him gag.

It didn't make sense to him. Half of these people who celebrate Valentine's Day together will be broken up before the year ends. So what's the point? Haven't they learned yet that love is a facade that only ends in a broken heart?

Maybe that's the emo in him speaking, but can you blame the boy for feeling that way?

His heart has never beat for another. To be honest, most people would be convinced that his heart doesn't beat at all. From his never-ending brooding attitude and his overtly emo attire.

Love isn't something he often thinks about. But deep down he does fantasize about having someone to love, especially around this time of year. That's why you'll rarely see him leave his dorm during February, except for attending mandatory classes of course.

Seeing all of these couples holding hands and being all lovey-dovey, a part of him yearns for it. Sure they are probably inevitably destined to end in heartbreak. But sometimes he wonders if experiencing love is worth the heartache. Maybe that's why people always come back each year to celebrate this dreaded holiday.

By now he's pretty convinced that love wasn't meant for him so he does whatever he can to drown everything out. Because there's no way in hell a girl would ever take interest in him, so it's better to just avoid them all.

When Valentine's Day finally comes Gyutaro begrudgingly leaves his dorm. But not before he puts on the heaviest, most anti-normal person emo garb that he has. Of course, he has his usual graphic tee, skinny jeans, and black jacket with the sleeves rolled up. But today he makes sure to put the black eyeliner on heavy and wear spiked bands around his wrists. The combat boots and metal chain on his hip top the look off.

He hopes this will be enough to deter anyone from speaking to him today. He only has two classes so as long as he can get through that then he'll be fine. Steering clear of any painfully romantic couples canoodling all throughout campus.

The day goes by longer than it should, but eventually, he gets through his classes.

Though he can't shake this heavy feeling inside of his chest. He tries to ignore it but as he saw more and more reminders of what today symbolizes the feeling only got stronger and stronger.

"Why am I feeling this way...?" he mumbles to himself as he clutches his chest. Inexplicably his eyes begin to water as the feeling worsens.

Panicked and annoyed, Gyutaro quickly leaves the building and walks towards one of his favorite spots near campus, a small secluded creek surrounded by tall trees that make him feel like he's in another world. He has to trudge through some shrubs to get there, but he always goes here when he wants to be alone.

Sitting down on a fallen log and lighting a cigarette, Gyutaro sighs.

He doesn't want to admit it, but he does feel incredibly lonely. Sometimes he internally curses everyone who has things that he doesn't, especially when it comes to having a loving relationship. He knows he isn't the easiest guy to get along with so the relationship would probably go south anyways. But that doesn't stop him from yearning for it. All he wants is to be loved. Is that really so much to ask?

He closes his eyes and takes a drag of his cigarette, trying to shift his thoughts to anything else.

But he's quickly snapped out of it when he hears a twig snap behind him.

"Shit," he mutters and puts out his cigarette. Did someone follow him? Maybe it's just an animal...

"Hello?" he shouts, hoping that it is indeed just an animal and not a couple that wanted to sneak away together.

"Erm... hi, um... sorry to bother you," you say with a shaky voice as you emerge from the trees.

"Y/N?" his eyes widen as he recognizes you as one of the girls in his art class. Honestly, he only remembered your name because he thought you were really cute. Not to mention sweet too. You haven't talked to him much, but the few times you did you were always abnormally kind to him. Something he wasn't used to from people.

"Yeah, sorry I um," you stutter not sure what to say as you realize how weird it would be to tell him that you followed him out here.

"What're you doin' here?" he raises a brow.

"I-I wanted to give you this!" you shout, your nerves getting the best of you as you force yourself to just spit it out already, "Happy Valentine's Day!" You swiftly hold out a velvet heart-shaped box.

"What..." he whispers in disbelief, "This for me?"

"Yes! I hope you like it," your entire face is red as you awkwardly hold the item, hoping he'll just take it already.

He narrows his eyes as if he doesn't believe you, but he takes the box anyway. Flipping it over, inspecting every detail, seeing his black painted nails shine as he moves his hand around the box. God do you love how he paints his nails.

"What is it?" he asks skeptically.

"It's a bomb," you respond.

His eyes widen as he stares back at you like you're a madwoman.

"Gyutaro, I'm joking!" you chuckle, lightening the mood, "Just open it already!"

He scoffs, holding back a laugh as he opens the velvet box. Inside are messily decorated chocolates in heart shapes.

"They taste better than they look, I promise..." you say sheepishly, hoping he won't hate them.

"Did you... actually make these?"

"Mm hm," you nod, "I tried to at least..."

He genuinely can't believe it. He doesn't even care that half of the chocolates look like turds, he's just touched that someone went out of their way to make something for them. Hell, he would have been happy if you just bought a box of chocolates from Walmart. But this? He never expected someone to do this for him.

"Are you trying to fuck with me?" he says in disbelief, his mind telling him that there's no way this isn't a joke or a cruel prank.

"W-Well um... maybe after a few dates..."

"... what?" his cheeks go red, "N-No! That wasn't what I meant- fuck um... never mind," he stutters, flustered by the thought that a pretty girl like you actually is considering having sex with him.

"Th-thank you," he spits out, "I love it." An awkward smile pulls on his lips, revealing his crooked teeth.

But it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

You've been crushing on him so hard ever since you met him this semester. He hasn't talked to you very much, but he doesn't seem unpleasant. Just quiet.

But when you happened to see him talking to his friends one day after class, you witnessed him smile for the very first time. And it was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You wished that one day you could make the cute emo boy smile like that.

And you finally did. Even if he ends up rejecting you, you don't care. You made him smile and that was what you were really aiming for. A rare reaction you barely see cross his face.

But honestly, Gyutaro doesn't know how to react. He's awkward and shy and totally not used to interacting with people like this. Let alone cute girls.

In an attempt to show his desire to get closer to you, Gyutaro scoots over and pats the spot beside him, "Wanna join me?"

"S-Sure!" You say eagerly as you take a seat beside him.

Gyutaro leans back, staring up at the sky as he tries to process everything that's happening right now. But there's one question he can't get off his mind, "What made you wanna give this to me?"

"I think you're really cool..." you shyly admit as you fiddle with your fingers, not brave enough to look at him as you confess your feelings, "I like your style and I always wanted to get to know you better. But I never knew how."

He's internally kicking himself for making himself appear so unapproachable. Sure it kept the normies away like he wanted but it also kept cool people like you away that genuinely wanted to get to know him.

"Aw man... thanks. I think you're pretty cool too," he smiles, putting his hand on top of yours, "Maybe we can hang out sometime outside of class... I-If you want to."

"Of course! I'd love to," you beam excitedly, not only because he wants to hang out with you but also because he's touching you right now, "Y'know I um... I'm not doing anything tonight."

"Me neither," he blushes and turns to you, "Wanna come over? I have a sick record collection we could listen to."

"I'd love that, Gyutaro," you say, squeezing his hand. Just happy that you get to see the emo boy smile. But this won't be the last time, you'll be seeing that crooked smile of his a lot more after today.

[sweetbuckybarnes]

Spencer's Family

Summary: The team finds out what Spencer did on his sabbatical.

Inspired by a post, I saw about how, in the one episode we're going to see Spencer in, they meet his wife. I took it and ran.

1k words

After finally closing the case, Penelope practically demanded they go see the new place Spencer had bought a few years ago. Once he agreed (begrudgingly), the BAU tech was literally vibrating in her seat.

Spencer had picked out a small-town house on the edge of DC, a train ride away, but the small town had shops, schools, and parks for an all-around American family. 

He unlocked the door, making his way in first, summoning his team in with a nod of his head.

It seemed like a lovely home for a nearly mid-40s man.

However, there was something that caught Penelope's attention. It sounded like there was someone (possibly more than one) in Spencer's living room.

"Spencer," Penelope hisses. "I think there's someone in your house."

Spencer raises an eyebrow and makes his way into the living room without his gun raised. "It's just my wife and stepdaughter," he says over his shoulder.

"Stepdaughter?" Came from Tara and Luke.

"Wife?" Whereas this came from Penelope, Emily and JJ. 

The last anyone had heard from Spencer about his love life was Maxine, and judging by the voice - this wasn't Maxine.

The group hurried after Spencer, seeing a young girl - possibly around the age of 5, maybe 6 - with her arms wrapped tightly around Spencer's neck. The little girl was an absolute chatterbox. She hadn't stopped talking since the moment he set foot in the living room.

However, the woman they were more interested in was Spencer's wife. Who was sitting on the sofa, giggling at the pair in front of her; a blanket was thrown over her lap, and some sort of embroidery was now abandoned at her side.

"-and then Tony stuck a pencil up his nose!" She giggled.

"Why did he do that?" Spencer asked the little girl, taking a seat on the sofa and pulling her into his lap.

Just as she was going to explain why, she burst into more giggles, Spencer looked over at his wife for a possible explanation. "Apparently Arthur dared Tony to do it."

"Ah! You'd think after the incident with the Magic Marker, they'd know not to dare Tony to do things."

Spencer's wife shrugged her shoulders. "Now you're here, I'm going to take a nap." 

Before Emily could question why his wife was going to take a nap, she got herself out of the little nest she had made for herself. Protruding from her abdomen was a baby bump. A pretty big baby bump.

"Reid, you're going to be a father?!" Luke exclaimed, earning himself a rather harsh glare from the little girl (who now obviously sees Spencer as her dad). "Again..." he trails off, correcting himself under the child's gaze.

"Has she been giving you any hassle?" Spencer asks, ignoring Luke's question (or many of the genius didn't hear him), as his hand rested on the bump, a large smile growing on his face told the team the baby was probably moving. JJ still remembers when she was expecting Henry, and when she got Spencer to feel her bump on time, he mentioned how it felt alien-like.

"Well, she's happy now her daddy's home," his wife comments.

He looks up at her. "Have you given any more thought to going on maternity leave yet?"

The team watches as she rolls her eyes. "As I told you before I left, I'm completely fine; the semester doesn't finish for another 3 weeks."

"Your due date is in 4 weeks, Y/N! I know you feel you have a duty to your students, but I think even they would agree you should be at home."

"They would only agree because they don't want to see me go into labour whilst I'm at school."

"What's labour?" 

Both Spencer and his wife, who they now know is called Y/N, look down at their daughter. The wife looks at her husband. "Can you-"

Spencer leans over and presses a kiss to her temple. "I'll deal with this. You go take a nap."

She sighs happily. "Lifesaver, I don't know what I would do without you."

"And you won't have to," he replies, giving her a kiss. "Go take a nap."

After a spirited conversation with his stepdaughter about childbirth and babies (that was appropriate for a 5-year-old), she happily went back to her colouring book, which was neat and tidy, with every scribble kept firmly within the lines - she was more like Spencer even though they don't share blood.

Penelope plops herself down on an open chair and stares at Spencer like she has seen a ghost. "A wife, a stepdaughter, and a baby on the way?" Spencer nods, reaching over to run his fingers through the little girl's hair (who they now know is called Betty).

"You're excited to have a little sister, aren't you Betty?" Spencer asks, watching her blonde hair bounce around her head.

"I gets to help Mommy and Daddy take care of her!" She replies, the excitement bursting out of her.

Emily looks over at Spencer. "Are you ready?"

Spencer looks away from Betty for all of a second to smile at Emily. "I don't think I've been ready for anything more in my life," he turns to Betty. "Have you come up with any more names for your sister?"

Betty coming up with names for her little sister was a way of her having a part in her little sister's life before she even gets here.

However, this time, Betty only had one. "Willow."

18 days later...

Just as Penelope hung up the phone on Emily, her personal phone pinged in her purse.

There was a notification from Y/N. In a picture from a hospital room, Y/N sat in the bed, cradling a bundle; Spencer sat at her side with Betty in the middle of them, the evidence of tears having rolled down the little girl's face.

Meet Willow Penelope Reid, born 5:37am, 6 pounds 9 oz; mom and baby are well. Oh, and Betty has asked Spencer to adopt her!

Penelope was crying when she called JJ. "Hey, Garcia."

"Y/N had the baby, and my name is the baby's middle name!" Penelope cried, and before JJ could say anything. "And Betty wants Spencer to adopt her!"

JJ smiled softly. "Well, we will have to go visit them once they are out of the hospital and settled in at home."

[thefandomexpert]

skipping the ‘women are not a monolith’ bc that’s in another comment. all opinions herein are my own, i’m not prefacing each statement with that so if I say something you personally disagree with it’s not a problem these are just my Onions

first, this seemed very surface level. they’re missing a few big name primarchs for both columns which is baffling.

khan, gman, and vulkan are all standard, loyal, manly men ™️ who also happen to be textually ‘nice’ to mortals/are generally seen as well-adjusted individuals.

This poster has missed the fact that, as far as my corner of the internet is concerned:

1) khan has very little lore compared to his brothers. even if he’s cool he’s not Plot Relevant. there’s no character arc with him? he’s cool. that’s literally it. and i love him for being cool but there’s nothing for me to play with there

2) gman is the most basic white bread unless you like him in which case he’s a sleep-deprived ‘i didn’t ask for this’ ceo dilf scrambling for any sense of security who makes bad decisions in part because he’s sleep deprived and scrambling. i am willing to bet the latter characterization was not really considered when making this post, considering this poster doesn’t think he’s simped over (untrue)

3) vulkan, like khan, also suffers from having brothers that are more plot relevant, though he has more of a character arc (or he could if they brought him back). However, he also suffers from The Fandom Racism Problem. but we don’t need to get into that rn.

42k!Guilliman aside, there’s nothing interesting to be had there narratively, and the other two haven’t been lore relevant since the heresy, unless you want to count tts’ revival of vulkan.

guys i’m surprised are not on this list: corvus really should be up here considering his temperament, and sang?? and FULGRIM???? that says a lot about where the poster is coming from. like fulgrim is for the queers so i get missing out on him if u don’t get him but you didn’t think we’d like sang???? textually prettiest primarch????? the only reason i can think he’s skipped is because he is simped for and therefor is not a surprise

meanwhile,

1) angron is The Single Most Tragic Primarch of the lot, his inevitable clash with the imperium is very good for getting to the core of the Imperial Problem, and he’s a sympathetic and relatable character. i, too, would want to rip my dad apart if he didn’t take the painful metal contraption that made me fuckass mad out of my head even if he could, and made me leave my friends to die to boot. is clearly trying to do right but is forced to do otherwise in a way that’s far more poignant than guilliman or lion making a nasty genocidal decision ‘for the greater good.’ can be either a True Tragic Figure or a beast for a beauty candidate. if you wanted to fix-it one primarch and fix the whole plot by extension, the answer would not be hugging horus or letting gman take a nap: it would be handling The Angron Problem because he is the biggest most obvious example of the imperium Not Working the way it’s being sold. he’s fucking compelling. and he has the biggest rack aight look.

2) corvus is fandom bait full stop. wet cat of a guy who turns into a crow demon and bothers one of the more annoying traitors forever and ever. guilty about his tragic mutated kids. guilty about a lot of stuff actually. again, sad wet cat. and while he’s not plot relevant post dropsite, he’s still textually around and open for a dramatic return. and i mean. look at shrike. tell me they didn’t expect the hot topic kids to be rg players. go on. the only way they could have made him more baity is to put clip-ons in his hair and dress him up in plaid skirts and fishnet gloves. rawr means ily in dinosaur, i made u a cookie but i eated it ass primarch.

3) kurze is again equal parts tragic and potential beast to tame from a fandom perspective. he’s got a cool gimmick with the future sight and who hasn’t wanted to skin a few oligarchs you know? he’s surprisingly witty and he’s got that tall dark and triangle look the tumblr girlies tend to like. there’s a canon example of him keeping a human alive as a pet for multiple years even. you can make this work, easy.

i get the sense some people question why people would like the traitor primarchs, as if telling emps to fuck off and die isn’t the hottest thing a guy can do in this setting (again: one of the major reasons 42k!gman has any appeal is his disillusionment with his father and his genuine struggle to understand why imperialism isnt working out. you’ll get it eventually buddy). they all maim and kill people so that’s also just. way less of a factor than you’d expect, except if they do it in particularly clever or charming ways, which the standard Manly Men primarchs do not, and also we like villains here, sir.

guys i’m surprised are not on this list: mortarion lmao. he’s just as bad if not worse than curze from an appearance standpoint and he’s not a nice guy, neither is he a big scary aggressive protector/hunter/etc dynamic candidate. he’s just there and he just Sucks. and we love him for that. like people are nuts over this guy. which is excellent! but given what poster expected he should be a big surprise. maybe magnus - i can see some people missing his appeal as he’s touted as a nerd and he’s continually a massive loser in every sense of the word…as long as you’re unfamiliar with the wild popularity of the tts version. this may be a sang situation where he’s not mentioned bc he’s expected and proven to be simped over, no surprise.

Lmao

Primarch simps of Tumblr, what is your verdict? (No hate to OP, just poking fun)

[dreamykira]

One Way or Another I IN-HO x reader

˗ˏˋREQUEST ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ Hi I hope you're doing well! Can I please request In-ho x female reader where she's a player and he becomes obsessed with her during his time as Young-il? During the rebellion, when Dae-ho fails to bring the ammo, she takes on the role and arrives on time to see In-ho's moment of betrayal. And from there, he decides to just remove her from the game and keep her with himself. It would be all the better if it was angsty with a touch of manipulative In-ho. @androgynous-lady

˗ˏˋWARNINGS ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ Betrayal, mentions of blood and killing, Dae-Ho has a panic attack. SPOILERS!!!! English is not my first language:)

˗ˏˋAUTHOR'S NOTE ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ hello again:) im kind of in my writers era or smth cos i have no clue how i've managed to post three fics in three days. i hope i can keep the streak going for longer. ALSOOOO this came out longer than i expected and im kind of inspired to write a part two of what happens when in-ho and reader meet again soooooo..... that means that i might turn this into a multi-part series. thats ofc if you guys like it and are interested in it.

word count: 1465

The tension in the dormitory was suffocating. The players sat in clusters, whispering among themselves, the weight of what was to come pressing down on them like a storm cloud. Soon, the plan would be set in motion.

But for now, there was still time.

And yet, it didn’t feel like enough.

“Are you sure you have to go?” you murmured, your fingers curling into the fabric of Young-il’s sleeve.

He paused, gun in hand, eyes flickering toward you. Then, with a quiet sigh, he reached out and cupped your face, his thumb tracing gently over your cheek. The softness of the gesture felt at odds with the world you were trapped in.

“You know I do,” he said, voice low, steady.

You swallowed. “Then let me come with you.”

A small smile ghosted over his lips, but there was something sad about it. “No,” he said simply.

Your grip tightened. “Why not?”

His hands slid down to your shoulders, his touch warm, grounding. “Because I need you here. I need to know you’re safe.”

Safe.

The word felt meaningless in this place.

You searched his eyes, hoping—praying—for something, anything, that would make this easier. But all you saw was quiet determination.

He was going. And there was nothing you could do to stop him.

Your breath hitched as a lump formed in your throat. “Promise me you’ll come back.”

He exhaled through his nose, almost like he was amused by your doubt. “I will.”

“You don’t know that.”

At that, his expression shifted—something unreadable passing through his eyes. Then, before you could react, he leaned in, pressing a quick, lingering kiss to your lips.

The world around you faded. Just for a second.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “I will,” he murmured, “one way or another.”

Something about the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine. But before you could dwell on it, he was already stepping away. Already slipping through the door.

And you were left standing there, his words echoing in your mind.

One way or another.

✧˚ · .

Gunfire echoed through the maze-like corridors of the facility as the armed players made their move, pushing forward with relentless desperation. It was chaos.

Hyun-Ju ducked behind cover as bullets whizzed past, her pulse roaring in her ears. “We’re running low on ammo!” she shouted.

“We need more!” someone yelled back. “We can’t hold out like this!”

Dae-ho clenched his jaw, gripping his rifle. “I’ll go get some,” he said.

As he ran through the corridors, the gunfire fading behind him, something dark and suffocating wrapped around his chest.

Memories clawed their way to the surface.

Blood. Screaming. The bodies of people he had once called comrades.

His breath hitched.

✧˚ · .

You had been pacing, anxiety gnawing at your stomach, when Dae-ho stumbled inside.

Something was wrong.

Dae-ho stumbled back into the dormitory, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. His hands were shaking, but he forced himself to move.

He scanned the room—most of the players were huddled together, whispering anxiously, too afraid to do anything. The bodies of the dead guards still lay where they had fallen, untouched.

Swallowing hard, he forced himself forward.

His hands trembled as he knelt beside one of the guards, searching through his pockets. He grabbed everything he could find, moving quickly to the next body.

The smell of blood made his stomach churn.

He tried to ignore it. Tried to pretend he wasn’t kneeling among corpses, rummaging through their uniforms like a scavenger.

By the time he was done, he had stuffed as much ammo as he could into a spare jacket he’d found. His fingers tightened around the fabric.

He needed to go back.

He needed to bring this to the others.

But the moment he turned toward the door, something inside him snapped.

A memory. A flash of gunfire. Screams.

His breath hitched.

He couldn’t go back out there.

His grip on the jacket loosened as his feet carried him backward, away from the door, away from the fight.

By the time he reached his bed, he collapsed onto it, curling around the stolen ammo like a child clutching a security blanket. His body shook. His mind screamed.

That was how you found him.

Your heart clenched at the sight.

Slowly, carefully, you approached.

“Dae-ho?” you whispered.

He didn’t look up.

You crouched beside him, your voice softer now. “What happened?”

His breaths were uneven. “I—I can’t,” he rasped. “I can’t go back out there.”

Your chest ached.

You placed a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s okay,” you murmured. “You don’t have to.”

His eyes flickered toward you, glassy with fear.

You gave his arm a reassuring squeeze before shifting your attention to the jacket in his grasp.

“You did good,” you said. “You got the ammo.”

He swallowed hard, nodding weakly.

You hesitated. Then, carefully, you took the jacket from him. He didn’t resist.

“I’ll take it from here.”

And before he could stop you, you turned and ran.

✧˚ · . 

The colourful walls blurred around you as you moved as fast as you could, the weight of the ammo pressing down on you.

You found Player 120, Hyun-Ju, first. She was crouched behind cover, struggling to reload.

“Here!” you gasped, shoving the ammo toward her.

Her eyes widened in relief. “Thank you—”

But you were already moving.

You had to find Young-il.

✧˚ · .

Your pulse pounded in your ears as you turned the last corner. Then, you saw him.

Young-il stood just ahead, his back turned to you, shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths. At his feet lay the bodies of two players—the same ones who had left with him.

Your heart lurched.

They were dead.

Your gaze snapped back to Young-il. He was gripping a gun.

“Young-il?” Your voice was shaky as you took a hesitant step forward.

He turned at the sound of your voice. His expression hardened for a fraction of a second, as if he was displeased to see you. Then, just as quickly, his face softened.

“Why are you here?” His voice was sharp, but beneath it, there was something else.

Relief.

Anger.

Panic.

You swallowed thickly. “We were running out of ammo… Dae-ho—he couldn’t do it. I took over.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “You shouldn’t have come.”

You frowned. Something about his tone unsettled you. You glanced down at the bodies again, dread curling in your stomach. “What happened to them?”

“They didn’t make it,” he said simply.

You looked up at him again, and for the first time, you truly took him in.

There was something off about him.

The way he stood—too still.

The way he held the gun—too natural.

The way he looked at you—too calculating.

Then, his walkie-talkie crackled to life.

“Young-il?” It was Gi-hun’s voice. “What’s going on? I heard gunshots.”

Young-il lifted the device to his lips, his eyes still locked onto yours.

“It’s over,” he said. His voice was steady, but his grip on the gun tightened. “We’ve been caught.”

Your breath hitched.

Lies.

Your hands curled into fists.

Before you could speak, he changed the channel on the walkie-talkie.

“Start wrapping this up.” His voice was different now. Colder.

The words sent ice through your veins.

Your stomach twisted, dread creeping up your spine as the realisation began to sink in.

This wasn’t Young-il.

Not really.

Not the man you had trusted. Not the man you had cared for. Not the man who you fell in love with.

Your throat felt tight. “Who… who are you?”

There was a long pause. 

Then, something in him shifted. The careful mask of concern fell away, revealing something darker beneath.

Something possessive.

Something unyielding.

He took a step toward you, his eyes never leaving yours. “I told you I would come back to you,” he murmured.

Your breath came in shallow gasps.

Footsteps echoed down the hall. Guards.

You took a step back, shaking your head.

“No,” you whispered.

Young-il—it was clear that it wasn’t his real name—reached out, gently brushing his fingers against your cheek. It should have been comforting. It wasn’t.

“You have nothing to be afraid of,” he said softly. “I’m keeping you safe.”

You flinched. “This isn’t—this isn’t right.”

His gaze darkened, but he didn’t move away. “You’ll understand soon enough.”

The guards arrived.

In-ho didn’t even have to give the order out loud. One of them grabbed your arm, and panic surged through you.

“No—wait—” You struggled, and for some odd reason hoped that Young-il would save you.

You turned to him, searching for something—some trace of the man you had thought he was.

He only tilted his head.

“Take her upstairs,” he said.

And as the guards pulled you away, your heart shattered.

to the lovely reader who sent me the request: i hope this met you expectations 💗