#nothing but the most respect for this man

[ssahotchnerr]

Valentines Day request you say? 😏

What about hotch x bau!reader’s first Valentine’s Day together but they’re away on a case and Hotch still desperately tries to make it special for his honey 😞😞😞😞

redefining romance

happy valentine's day! 🥰 cw; bau!reader, established relationship, bau family banter, brief food mentions, aaron being the sweetest, fluff <3 wc; 1.2k

You couldn't deny feeling a bit disappointed. You weren't surprised, but disappointed.

The last place you were hoping to spend your very first Valentine's Day with Aaron was on a case. Instead of sharing a quiet, intimate evening together, you were spending it in a precinct, miles away from home and far from anything that resembled love. In it's place, a sterile environment - fluorescent lights rather than candles, takeout consumed over case files instead of a fancy dinner.

It especially didn't help that you had brief knowledge of his would-have-been plans too. He had playfully asked if you had made prior plans, because he intended on taking you out. The only hint he gave was that your first stop would be a fancy restaurant - disclosed only so you were aware to dress accordingly - but the rest of the night would remain unbeknownst to you.

And now it was merely a reservation you wouldn't make.

You accepted this was something you would have to get used to. With such a demanding and unpredictable job, it came as no shock. In addition, you were positive this wouldn't be the last Valentine's day you spent in the field. Or holiday, at that.

But it still sucked regardless.

Instead than sulking entirely, you had to make the most of it: Aaron wore a red tie in the day's honor, chosen by you. The police department was scarcely decorated - some of the officers had felt festive enough. JJ even stopped to get pink and red donuts for breakfast on the way in. You also managed to be in a SUV with Aaron at one point, just the two of you, allowing him to comfortably hold your hand on the road.

The day had flown by before you even realized it. Before long, you found yourself back at the hotel with the others, parting ways for the night.

"We'll see you all in the morning," Aaron told the group, not-so-discreetly placing a hand on your back, the usual comments following.

"Goodnight," Derek offered the two of you a wink, the words leaving him in a sing-song tone.

"Remember, I'm an old man who needs his sleep." Dave also gave both of you a pointed look, causing Aaron to roll his eyes.

"Goodnight Dave."

"They're crazy," you laughed once the two of you reached your respective door, grabbing the keycard from your wallet. You faintly heard Emily tossing back the words to enjoy what you could of the rest of the day.

"They're jealous," Aaron humorously commented, causing you to laugh again as you pushed open the door, flicking the light on.

Much to your surprise, the light revealed a bouquet of flowers on the table, joined by chocolate covered strawberries. Not only that, flower petals were scattered amongst the duvet. You blinked, as if the display would somehow disappear.

Aaron trailed in behind you, a small smile on his face.

You turned to him, surprise blatant on your face. "You...?"

"Yeah," he confirmed casually, a warmth in his eyes that enveloped you from the inside out.

"When did you manage to do this?" Quickly, you replayed the day in your mind, searching for a moment when he could have slipped away, but came up with nothing. You admired the flowers, in stunned awe.

"I can't reveal all my secrets, can I?" He grinned. There was a quiet satisfaction in his expression, knowing he had successfully pulled it off, but mainly because you were so overjoyed.

"Aaron..." A million words were in your mind, but vocally, you couldn't help but be speechless. So you did the only thing that could get your message across - you grabbed the lapels of his jacket, fiercely pulling him close and kissing him.

Aaron reciprocated, holding you close.

"It's our first Valentine's Day. You didn't think I wouldn't try to make it special somehow, did you?" He teased once the two of you parted, arching an eyebrow.

"But I didn't-"

While you did have a heartfelt card for him, it wasn't a gesture as grand as this, his 'little something' waiting at home.

He waved off your comment. "Don't worry about it, please. Besides, this is the first Valentine's Day I've had in a while." His smile was effortlessly endearing. "I had to go all out one way or another. Not that I need an excuse to spoil you, you already know I don't need that. But our Valentine's Day looks different compared to others, given our job demands. So it may have to look like, this, here and there. If that's okay."

"Of course it is," you answered quickly, your gaze softening.

"And this," he briefly held up a finger, handing you a red, folded piece of paper. "Is from your other valentine."

"My other valentine?" You laughed softly in confusion, opening it up and your heart melting.

It was a handmade card, complete with messily-cut hearts. You recognized the writing immediately. Happy Valentine's Day! was in Jack's slightly messy third grade penmanship. He even included a small drawn portrait of the three of you.

You'll keep it forever.

Aaron sat on the bed, pulling you onto his lap. You lifted your eyes from the card, finding his serious yet sweet expression on his face. "I know it's not what we had originally planned. And we're still celebrating fully once we're home. I've already talked to Jess, she's more than willing to take Jack for one more night."

"Truthfully, I was kinda down about it all day," you admitted as your gaze dropped again, feeling silly.

"I know." His lips drew in a pensive line, his hand rubbing your hip comfortably.

"But you're right. They will look different, and we're lucky too. We still get to spend the day together, a lot of agents can't say the same for their significant other. And spur of the moment things like this, are so romantic and spontaneous and it..." Again, you were lost for words and overwhelmed by love. "This is perfect."

You felt deeply cherished, truly adored. That despite working, Aaron had gone out of his way to ensure your first Valentines would be special and memorable. It was a reminder that, no matter the circumstances, he would always find a way to make you feel loved. In a way, the two of you didn't quite need to celebrate further. This was more than enough.

"Hey, that's the word I would use to describe you."

"Really?" You leaned back slightly to get a better look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Smooth talking me, Hotchner?" You teased. But all jokes aside, you leaned back in, giving him a kiss. "Thank you, you're amazing. I love you so much."

"I love you. So much." He couldn't help himself, pressing his lips to yours and his chest filling up with love, as if every beat of his heart was made just for you (which, it was).

Eventually Aaron got up, removing his suit jacket.

"I still can't believe you," you said with a laugh, shaking your head and letting your fingers sift through the scattered petals. "I swear, I didn't see you leave once. And wait- did you pack these?"

"Don't get any ideas," he teased, undoing the cuffs on his sleeves as he stood above you. "As romantic as I am, we are on the job."

"Oh?" You grabbed his tie, firmly pulling him near. "I think we're not until the morning."

[no-blastbeat-no-applause]

A little while ago I wrote a little something about that. I just finished translating it into english. Here are my thoughts:

Wimp

Thoughts on the patriarchy and why this crap sucks for men too

Queen Energy

I mindlessly let Instagram videos wash over my mind. A sketch wakes me from my pleasant torpor:

A woman dressed in a negligee talks to her husband. She orders him to have sex with her immediately. He says he is tired, he has just come home from work. He doesn't feel like it either. She is not interested. She becomes more direct and aggressive in her statements and demands. All of this culminates in her forcibly shoving a cookie into his mouth, repeating her order and expectantly marching off towards the bedroom.

The comment column is rolling with laughter, congratulates the woman and agrees with her demands. The comments reads something like:

"Her story, her rules, her empire." "Queen energy! This is the vibe we all need!" "Taking what's hers like it was always meant to be"

She should take what she needs; her husband should be a real guy and get it for his wife if and when she wants it.

So the point is: he's a wimp if he doesn't put himself and his needs first. He's not a real man because he doesn't jump when his wife is in the mood.

Let's imagine the gender roles reversed. A man comes home and tells his wife to wait for him naked in the bedroom because he wants to have sex. Regardless of her wishes and desires. Most people would find this behavior unacceptable. And rightly so.

Here though, sexual harassment is portrayed as a joke. Neither the producers nor the recipients seem to be fazed by this.

Such scenes suggest that men always have to be ready and willing. This stereotypical expectation completely ignores the fact that men are also people with boundaries who want to say "yes" or "no". However, in our society - as the comments column impressively shows - they are often denied this choice. Men are not even given the opportunity to prioritize their own wishes because their "yes" is taken for granted. If they do try to set boundaries, they are met with a lack of understanding, rejection, ridicule or even violence. This creates a burden that is subtle but always present.

The video and its comments make fun of a man whose freedom of choice over his own body has been taken away, making him yet another victim of patriarchy and toxic masculinity.

First naked and then alone in the corridor

I was 12 when my mother drove me and my ten-year-old sister to our pediatrician. Everything started as business as usual. The doctor asked us general questions, she took our blood pressure and did what doctors do.

Then something happened that I still remember vividly today. As a burgeoning teenager, I had to get naked from the wais down and lie down on a couch to be examined. My mother and sister both stayed in the room. I was embarrassed. I found it downright agonizing.

The doctor plucked at my penis for several minutes. I didn't know where to look. My face turned bright red and my hands got wet. I was suddenly terribly aware of how my kneecaps felt under my skin.

Then it was finally over.

But now it became particularly irritating: it was my sister's turn. She was facing something similar - with one important difference. I was asked to leave.

Don't get me wrong, I had no interest in participating in my sister's gynecological exam. I just wished that the same consideration had been given to me, a little boy.

My feelings were not ignored, no. No one here had even bothered to take an interest in whether I had any. I was treated with the same respect as the couch in the treatment room. The question of my dignity was about as important as that of the desk.

But that was nothing new for a 12-year-old. After all, I learned to swallow my feelings before I even started elementary school.

"Are you a man or a mouse"?

Of course I'm a man, I'm already four! I suppress every feeling that my environment deems too much or inappropriate.

I've learned that „Indians don't cry.“* Neither do boys. I'm not supposed to make such a fuss and pull myself together.

It eats into your brain. It stays. For almost 40 years and it's still there.

How my tongue got bitten

My aunt was celebrating her sixtieth birthday. The whole thing ended in her favorite pub. We danced, sang, drank and enjoyed ourselves. I chatted with old acquaintances on the edge of the dance floor.

Suddenly, a woman snuck up on me. She started to dance at me aggressively. I found it quite flattering at first. The stranger danced very closely with me, focusing only on me. She made me feel wanted.

But after a while I became uncomfortable. She took it for granted that I would return her advances. She waited for me in front of the toilet. She gave me no opportunity to move without her. She put her arms around me and kissed me on the dance floor.

I didn't want to be seen like this by my family. It was impossible to talk to my friends, my aunt was at the other end of the pub. I told the stranger that I wanted to talk to my family, but she wouldn't let go of me. I spoke to friends, but she pushed her way in.

I could have said "No!" at any time, walked away and enjoyed my evening, sure. But I have internalized the lessons of my youth: my feelings are not important and I have to make my body available, regardless of my own wishes.

I only plucked up the courage to tear myself away when the stranger bit my tongue painfully, because: I didn't kiss her the way she wanted me to.

But even then, at the end of the night, my "No, I don't want that anymore" was met with a complete lack of understanding. She was offended that I was not responding to her wishes. She had never cared about my consensus or my needs.

I was now in a similar role to the man in the sketch: my feelings were put on the back burner in order to offer a woman what she wanted at that moment.

Neither the lady in the sketch nor the stranger at the pub inquired about the wishes of the men in question. None of them asked for consensus. None of them took what they were explicitly told seriously, because they, like all of us, have internalized these toxic patterns of thought and behaviour.

As a farewell, I got a contemptuous "wimp" shouted after me.

And why all this?

I am well aware that the people who suffer most from patriarchy are, of course, those who do not appear traditionally male to society. Women, intersex and trans people, all non-cis-hetero men, should by no means be ignored here. My perspective, however, is that of a cis-het man.

We men are taught that our feelings are not important. We have to be tough and endure instead of being vulnerable and talking openly about our needs. Our bodies are common property. We learn to accept assault and laugh it off.

• The woman in the negligee wants sex? Then go ahead! No matter what the man wants.

• The boy is ashamed to be looked at naked by three women? He shouldn't behave like that!

• A stranger decides you're her plaything this night? Fuck your wishes and your family!

If we don't conform to the norms, we are wimps. We are considered unmanly. We're not real guys.

We need to recognize the harmful influence of sexism on men.

While patriarchy generally privileges men, it also subjects us to restrictive gender roles that harm us.

Even those who are considered the most powerful in the patriarchal hierarchy suffer from it.

The supposed masters turn themselves into the oppressed.

Toxic masculinity harms us and everyone around us.

Sometimes I do wonder if men actually get sexually assaulted and abused at a similar rate that women do but a lot of them just don’t know that’s what’s happening to them

[telephoniii]

HEARTSHAPED CHOCOLATES

☆彡 in which you gift jamil a valentine and things get complicated

jamil viper x gn!reader

word counter: 3.1K

warnings: reader is prefect, possible ooc, miscommunication (kinda), descriptions of servitude

a/n: i wrote this at 2AM but i think it's really cute. i’m definitely biased because jamil is my favorite and i do NOT have any valentines this year whatsoever 😭

i hope you enjoy!! :>

Jamil wiped down the counter with a frustrated sigh. Kalim had, once again, gone behind his word and threw a last-minute party. One that Jamil had to do a majority of the work for. And now here he was, cleaning up after the incompetent boy.

Nothing he wasn't used to, but upsetting nonetheless. Though, he supposed that he’d be lying to himself if he claimed it was the only reason he felt bitter. His eyes flickered toward a calendar that hung on the kitchen wall of Scarabia.

Tomorrow, it’d officially be Valentine's Day.

Now, most NRC students were as single as could be for a variety of reasons— being a celebrity, focusing on grades, etc. Jamil fell under the category of being too busy. So many, much more important matters were always fighting for his attention. And a lot of them are related to Kalim in some way or form.

Being a destined servant to the Al Asim household wasn't an ideal situation. Plain and simple. Especially when it came to romantic relationships.

In middle school, young Jamil had a few girls he was interested in. However, all hopes of those crushes blooming into anything more died when they witnessed Jamil and his family bowing down to Kalim.

It's difficult to explain his role to his peers. Of course, the older he got the easier it became. But for most of his childhood, it was extremely embarrassing to have to say that he was to devote his life to serving the Al Asim family forever.

It was humiliating, giving leeway for others his age to look down on him. Now it wasn't just Kalim who he was lesser than. It was everyone. And it was hardly fair. Jamil was smarter than all of them combined.

He caught on to things quickly and was easily adaptable. When learning magic, his movement was calculated and precise. Yet, because of his last name, the respect he deserved was never given… Needless to say, he never pursued any more crushes.

By the time he was enrolled in NRC, romance no longer seemed plausible for his lifestyle. He wouldn't be able to devote so much time to another person other than Kalim anyway. That man-child can barely do anything on his own to save his life.

Jamil was convinced he’d spend the rest of his youth alone, only really finding a potential partner once he was free from the chains of servitude.

…And then you showed up at NRC.

You and your stupid soft eyes; that genuine empathy you carried on your sleeve. It's idiotic, really. You were bound to get taken advantage of in a school like this. Against his better judgment, Jamil felt drawn to you.

Despite being magicless and from a whole other world, you seemed to understand and empathize with his struggles better than those he had grown up with. And you weren't just all bark, no bite. You helped out a lot.

Many can just say that they feel sorry for Jamil, yet stand idly by as he served Kalim. You, however, saw him through his overblot. Instead of moving on, you forced him to communicate with Kalim about how he was feeling. It would've been so easy to fall back into the status quo, yet you stayed and improved his life for the better.

He’ll never quite get how one person could leave such a big impact.

You eased his worries about servitude. Being around you was naturally calming. It didn't feel like he had to babysit when he spent time with you. In fact, he felt as though he was learning new things— about both himself and others— every day with you.

The feeling scared him to his soul.

It was terrifying to be this addicted to another person’s presence. He wasn't used to having someone to look forward to: someone he wanted to be around all the time.

Jamil didn't know whether or not to pursue you. The last thing he wanted was to drag you into more of his messes… however, you seemed to frequently do that yourself, choosing to be involved for his sake. He was truly infatuated.

Despite it all, he refused to make a move.

You weren't from this world and all too soon he was sure you’d find a way back to where you were meant to be. It’d be selfish of him to pursue you, trapping you in a place you didn't belong. He knows the feeling of being trapped all too well after all.

There were no telltale signs you’d be interested in him back anyway. You were friendly with all and close to many. Who’s to say one of those fancy princes or endearingly dumb freshmen isn’t the one who’s captured your heart?

He purposely doesn't stand out, unlike some other students. Jamil assumed this put him at a natural disadvantage.

Assumed being the keyword.

Of course you, always breaking his expectations, had to crumble his thoughts by gifting him chocolates.

~

“Jamil?”

His eyes moved from his textbook to you in a second. He raised a brow as he watched you stare at him with an unrecognizable glint in your eyes. “Did you need help with something, Prefect?”

Those words made you perk up, grounding you back in reality. “No! No. I’m fine. Just…”

Clearing your throat, you put down your pencil. The homework in front of you was long forgotten as you focused your attention mainly on Jamil— much to his confusion.

“Do… Do you have any plans for Valentine's Day?” You cautiously asked, looking at him intently.

He furrowed his brows at the question, thinking it over. “Kalim will most definitely want to throw a party for the occasion. I'll be in charge of the decorations, cooking, and— well, everything as per usual.”

Jamil answered truthfully, not seeing much of a reason not to. Yet, he felt like he answered wrong as his eyes met your deflated gaze.

“Got it… Yeah, that makes sense…”

Before he could invite you to the party— you’re one of the only people he’d happily cook for— you messily started scouring through your bag.

He observed you curiously, mentally noting that he should help you clean out your backpack sometime. I mean, the amount of loose papers you have in there is absurd—

“Here.”

His mind goes quiet as you pull out a small, heart-shaped box and slide it toward him. Jamil looks at you like you are crazy, making you chuckle.

“I was hoping to give it to you on Valentine's Day, if you're busy then, I’d rather do it now and save you the trouble.” How thoughtful of you… His shock was transparent as he struggled to form words.

You didn't know whether or not to take that positively or negatively.

“Uhh—” It was awkward, the air was tense as you swiftly stood up. You flashed him a nervous smile. “I should go check up on Grim… Good seeing you?”

Jamil had never felt more scatterbrained. So many thoughts racing at once. Yet so little came out of his mouth.

“Good seeing you too, Prefect.”

~

He never did invite you, did he?

Jamil sighs at his ridiculousness. In the back of his mind, he tried to justify it.

The party wouldn't be ideal for you to come to anyway, he’d be working the majority of the time. He doubts you’d enjoy yourself. It might be awkward for you to even come after that exchange.

However, deep down, he knew he should've said something. Anything. Instead, he just let you leave with unsure thoughts.

Jamil didn't want to leave this be. He wanted to make it right. But with so little time, he was stuck.

~

Valentines arrived unreasonably fast, causing him to frown. The students of Scarabia could sense something was wrong, but no one had the guts. Well, no one except…

“Jamil? Are you mad?” Kalim innocently asked.

Although you made Jamil talk out a lot of his issues with Kalim, the white-haired boy’s voice still irked him to his soul.

“No. What makes you say that?” The Viper responded, keeping his tone neutral and calm.

Nonetheless, Kalim squinted at him with a pout.

“Is this about the Prefect?”

He nearly choked on his spit. “Excuse me?”

“Well, you guys like each other, right? Did you fight over something? Aww, I’m sorry if an argument broke out right before Valentine's.”

Jamil shook his head with an annoyed scoff, giving Kalim an unamused look.

“No, what—? Rewind. What makes you think we like each other?”

Kalim tilted his head like a lost puppy. It only served to frustrate Jamil further.

“Is it not obvious? You’re way happier around them than anyone else!”

Not that anyone pointed it out, but Jamil would undoubtedly deny the way his cheeks heated up at that statement.

“We’re not seeing each other romantically. Neither do we think of one another that way…”

He regretted letting his sentence trail and thinking aloud. Whenever it came to you, he was much less organized than he liked.

“…Well, sort of.” Although he merely mumbled these three words, that was all it took for Kalim to spring up ecstatically.

“Oh! So you like them but you haven't confessed? You can do it at today's party! I’ll invite them right now!” “What! No— Kalim, slow down!”

Jamil had to physically grab the other hot by his shoulders to keep him from bouncing away.

“I'm not ‘confessing’ at this party today, or any time soon.”

That lost puppy looked returned to Kalim’s face. Although he had seen it a few minutes ago, it still pissed him off all the same.

“Why not?”

Because he didn't know how to; plain and simple. Jamil for sure didn't want to have his ‘confession’ be too big. He’d hate for himself to come off as ingenuine to you.

Not to mention, Kalim and his antics have more or less ruined any big, dramatic gestures for him. Jamil can't help but find them corny and tacky now.

However, he didn't want to do something too small. A simple note won’t cut it for him. You deserve more. What exactly that entailed, he didn't know.

“Because I don’t want to.” Jamil unenthusiastically answered. He cut off Kalim before he could speak up. “No more questions.”

Not wanting to entertain this conversation any longer, Jamil walked away. Right. He had other, more pressing matters to worry about. Party preparations.

Food, decorations, music, lighting…

Damn it, why won’t you leave his mind?

~

The party, thankfully, went smoothly. Guests were enjoying themselves, there was enough food for everyone, and Kalim was too distracted by a few people to bother him. Letting out a relieved sigh, Jamil leaned against the wall behind him. His eyes wandered around as he started people-watching.

It was important to stay alert when it came to the people at these parties. He had to make sure no one had harmful intentions towards the young Al Asim. Though, as he should've expected, there were many couples here tonight.

Seems like a lot of Scarabian students brought their off-campus lovers here. Jamil can only hope Crowley doesn't chastise them too harshly for doing so.

He perks up as a slow song plays over the party. The lights are adjusted to dim and soon enough, practically everyone was on the dance floor. Couples, friends, strangers, talking stages— you name it.

It’s no surprise Jamil seemed drawn to the dance aspect of this part of the night. Even if he tried to hide it at times, his passion for the art of dancing always had its way of shining through. He glanced through the crowd to see if there was anyone without a partner.

Thankfully for him, it wasn't too hard to spot someone. These types of parties were always bound to have a few wallflowers. As he made his way through the crowd toward the one he had his eye on, he couldn't help but hear a couple of voices over the music.

“Ace, you little—!” That was all Jamil could make out before he felt a person suddenly collide with him. It didn't hurt or anything, and Jamil had enough sense to gauge it was most likely a mistake—

“Uh, hi.”

He didn't expect to turn around and be met with the sight of you. An embarrassed look sat upon your face as you fidgeted with the ends of your clothes.

“Hey.” Jamil curtly replied.

You gave him that stupid little smile of yours that made his heart race. A hopeful hum left your lips.

“Are you busy?”

He couldn't help but chuckle in response, giving his genuine answer.

“Nope.” He stuck his hand out, pretending that his mind wasn't going fuzzy from being in your presence. “May I have this dance?”

He felt you place your hand on top of his.

“Of course.”

With your permission, he let one hand fall to your waist as he gently guided you in a waltz-like manner. He was more experienced than you, precisely moving as the two of you dance.

You couldn't help but feel endeared. Jamil was pretty from close up. Unfortunately— or fortunately— he caught you staring. He gave you an amused look in response.

However, he didn't expect you to abruptly frown and glance away.

‘You couldn't get your hopes up,’ Your mind reminded you, recalling his reaction to your gift. It was for the better you don't get too attached.

Jamil seemed disheartened by the disconnect. His hand on your waist lightly tightened. Shortly after, a mischievous grin found its way on his face.

Suddenly, Jamil’s movement quickened. You gave him a confused raise of the brow.

“Jamil—?”

He doesn't give you time to finish your thought as he spins you, swiftly catching you in his arms afterward. Taken by surprise, you can’t help the laugh that escapes you.

You've never seen Jamil look more proud of himself as he gave you that smug little smile of his. He barely gave you time to react before he was moving the two of you again.

What you didn't expect was for him to dip you so, so low. Instinctively, you squealed. Your arms clung onto him for dear life.

“Jamil—!”

He let out a laugh at your reaction. “What? It's not like I’m going to drop you or anything.”

Your grip tightened after hearing those words. “Great sevens— you better not drop me!”

He playfully rolled his eyes. Jamil leaned in closer, his voice taking a lower tone as he whispered, “You trust me, Prefect, don’t you?”

You didn't respond to that, instead letting your small glance to the side paired with an embarrassed expression speak for itself.

In the next few steps, he taught you some more advanced footwork. He couldn't help but admire the way you’d smile as you caught onto it quickly. Jamil then spun you once more, this time it was less abrupt.

Prepared, you were able to smoothly go along with it. The boy let out an impressed hum, giving you a satisfied look. His eyes practically told you what he had planned next. Another dip.

The dip was more nerve-wracking than the spin. However, Jamil didn't intend to dip you as low as he did before�� thankfully.

Your hold on him still tightened like it did before as he dipped you. Unlike before, Jamil let the pose and moment linger.

You’d gaze up at him, admiring the determined glint in his eyes. The way his hair naturally fell, framing his face, was just the cherry on top.

Oh, and how could you forget those breathtaking lips of his...

His thoughts were eerily similar to yours, taking in your features before letting his eyes roam over your lips. Jamil leaned closer, bringing his face mere inches from yours.

You swung your arms around his neck, making it easier for him to get closer… and closer… and…

Just as the two of you closed your eyes, about to connect, you hear the slow music turn to an upbeat, party song. Next thing you know, you felt your body swiftly being pulled up.

One moment, you and Jamil were so close, the next he was acting as though you were toxic. His hands left your hips as he cleared his throat.

It looked like he was planning on saying something before a familiar voice cut through the crowd.

“Jamil! Come dance with me!” The two of you both heard the young Al Asim shout.

You frowned. Right. He’s busy tonight with duties and whatnot. Although you felt disappointed, you gave him a tired smile and nod.

Jamil’s brows were furrowed, his eyes flickering between you and the direction Kalim’s voice came from.

Tonight seemed full of surprises as Jamil’d hand shoots out to your forearm and hurriedly guided you outside in the opposite direction of Kalim.

You were in shock as he pulled you outside, shutting the door behind him with a sigh.

“…You’re not gonna—?” “If anyone asks, you were nauseous from dancing and went outside with me for fresh air.”

Jamil was dead serious as he spoke, looking at you for confirmation. You nodded your head.

“Uh, got it.”

Silence soon filled the atmosphere between the two of you, the only sound being from the night’s wind. It was oddly tense. You were the first one to break the quiet.

“I’m sorry.” Jamil’s gaze immediately snapped up to yours, narrowing in confusion.

“Sorry?” He repeated, looking for clarification.

You fidgeted with the ends of your clothes. “Sorry for the chocolates. That was probably uncomfortable for you since that kinda gift is usually reserved for couples and all…”

Jamil’s expression softened the more you talked.

“Don’t be. It was a lovely gift.” His hands slowly make their way to yours, gently holding you.

“I reacted the way I did because…” Jamil sucked in a hesitant breath. “…Well, you’ve made me feel things. Feelings that I thought I was incapable of feeling.”

He carefully pulled you closer to him, allowing you to back away if you wanted to. You didn't. You just stared back into his gaze as he continued.

“Around you, I feel unburdened by my responsibilities. I feel… alive.” If you maneuvered your hand right, you could feel his pulse practically beating out of his body.

“I adore you like no other. When I received those chocolates, my mind melted. You… you turn me into such a mess.” He lightly scoffed with a small shake of the head. You can't help but chuckle.

“Nonetheless,” He gave your hands a gentle squeeze. You squeezed back.

“I’d never wish this feeling away. Never in a million years.”

Jamil’s hands momentarily left yours as he fiddled with his jacket. He was looking for something…?

“Although it’s long overdue,”

After a few moments, Jamil pulls out a small, red rose. You recognize it as a part of the decor from the party. He slips it into your hand effortlessly, his eyes staying on yours.

“Will you be my Valentine?”

[harmonysanreads]

i feel like yan!phainon wouldn't want to restrain you physically like tie you up or keep you locked up in a room and etc i think he'd have some form of self-conscience that he's a hero and that doing the above will make himself seem otherwise so he like protects darling at all costs and ends up being overprotective (like the last post you made) because he doesn't want to resort to physically restricting behavior? unless you make things difficult for him but that's just how i think of him for now whjebdjwhebewf praying hoyo cooks with him

I was quite certain about this as well but after recent news of Flame Reaver, a different thought is bugging me if I am to be honest.

Frankly speaking, for an unknown duration of time, Phainon was a man who had nothing left ; his home, the people he once held dear, even his true name had to be left behind. Only vengeance, hatred, a desire for revenge or, perhaps a promise he'd made kept him living an excuse of an existence. You could say that is still the case now, on a deeper level at least. But Phainon would like to not dwell on the negatives all the time. He has a valiant objective, a name that instigates respect among the people, friends that he can fight alongside with, status and wealth.

However, is he sure that those are things he... wants? In a temperate mood, he might say yes. But in all honesty, he isn't sure. In a particularly low-point in his life, he might outright say no, as well. But there is something else, someone else that makes his heart ache at the thought of letting go and leaving behind — you. You're not someone that was pushed to him to carry like all his duties, even if you are, he'd rather take a meteor to his face than give you such label.

Saving Amphoreus through the Flame-Chase? Getting vengeance in Aedes Elysiae's name? Nothing comes close to what he feels when the possibilities are replaced with your name. This is the one mission he'd put all his certainty to. If he is destined to be a hero, he'd much rather be your hero — or, try to. In the beginning it was relatively easy and it was rather difficult to complain about his ‘antics’ when they could be rationalized with some thinking. Not that many people would be bothered to think either, whatever keeps their prophesized Deliverer happy they guess.

Things truly start to become complicated when a shadow from a distant time gets involved in the picture — for you, that is. You see, despite how suffocating Phainon would get in the past, it was well-known to everyone that you held the reigns in the end. It was always ridiculously easy to get Phainon to bend to your will as well, as despite everything, he is a simple man deep down. So, when one day you find your usual tactics completely fail against him, faced with a determination to keep you hidden like he'd die the most gruesome death without making it a reality — no one knew what to do.

Phainon apologizes to you without sparing a breath throughout the ordeal, groveling for a sin he knows he won't receive mercy for. But that is okay, he's always said that he'd take it with a smile even if you sneered at him with a death-sentence. As long as you're safe from that other him, he's willing to go to whatever low is necessary.

[side-by-side-sideblog]

As a butch individual I will not like you, fuck you, talk to you, make friends with you, or entertain you if you hate men, neither will my partner and other butches I know. It is not progressive, man hating isn't queer culture, because men are queer culture. Men are why I am masc, they accepted my masculinity first, lesbians were butch and masculine phobic to me for 8 years till I figured my shit out. I know that isn't the norm, but it isn't rare either.

These people put me back in the closet over and over. They don't support gender or sex being a spectrum, if they do they're showing no signs of it. They think saying men dni will stop guys who harass people but they don't stop because they don't care about consent and a dni doesn't change that. There are plenty of girl bloggers who also don't respect consent and send people gore and threats over minor disagreements. We don't go after them hardly at all in comparison considering we have people who've been doing that since 2016 and earlier that people still reblog and uplift because they're women. Men doing that on here don't get that treatment, because it's rightfully wrong. Most other sites white non queer men do getaway with that more while women don't, the Tumblr user base reversing that isn't progressive, because cis white women here get more slack then anyone else because trans fems, trans mascs, intersex people, and non white people get the "evil" tag over small shit, let alone actual bad things.

We teach in current society that men are incapable of consent, as if it's in their nature. This isn't true, but it sure does create a lot of guys who lack boundaries. That doesn’t mean Man = Bad it means society saying Man = Wild Beast is bad. A man is just whoever identifies as one, and identifying as a man has nothing to do with lack of consent, or toxic masculinity. I sometimes wonder if I identify as butch in a man way, idk, and I don't care, I am who I am, and women are who I spend time with in a queer way. My closeness to masculinity isn't traitor behavior. Femininity isn't Divinity, I do not worship women. Masculinity isn't an Ignominity, I do not criminalize men. Masculinity is also not Divinity, and Femininity isn't an Ignominity. Both can be fallible at times when the conditions are right, but they are neutral markers.

To make man = good we do that by just changing ourselves and our ideas of masculinity being bad, then we teach it to everyone else, including kids, friends, partners, and parents. When people stop the "boys will be boys" then more men will be taught consent.

I have an actual irrational hatred for a character that makes me burst into anger and hour long rants (not joking) because I see him as the epitome of toxic masculinity. Seeing him in a profile picture can ruin my day, but I do not put him in a dni list because I am not going to blame fans of him for my distaste in how the media itself supports his bad actions as good. Just like if I get harassed by men who lack consent, I will not blame all men and put men dni.

Saying "I block ＿" is better anyway.

Plus, how can you know someone's a woman? Not everyone has pronouns listed, gender listed, or just a big neon sign saying "I'm a woman." you will have no idea if people are respecting your frankly outrageous ask of who can follow or reblog your posts.

Men on this site who respect women and reblog posts do exist, and there are a lot of them. Also trans eggs who are on this site are not going to figure themselves out through media like mlp, she-ra, and whatever you post by saying men dni. My trans sister cracked her egg six months ago, so for her blog she would have steered clear of men dni disclaimers and probably blocked them out of respect. Now how does she undo that, go through her entire block list? That would be crazy work for people who wouldn't have respected her pre transition (which they didn't, not even other trans girls or queer gurls in highschool did, only now would they support her. That's what man hating does to people.)

There is no simple solution to keeping people away, oh wait... It's called blocking.

tldr; Having a dni for an entire demographic of people just for the flaws of a few inside doesn't work. It never will. People who don't care about consent will breach it to hurt you.

if you have "cishet men dni" in your bio i, a trans man, will not touch you with a 10 foot pole. i should not be forced to out myself as a trans man just to interact with you. on top of that, cishet men are not inherently evil. stop trying to reinvent bioessentialism with your "girl good, boy bad!" mentality.

[hisfavegirl]

Hey girl, I love your HOTD reactions sm! What about like how they would react if you did a VS or Skims collab for a Valentine’s day set or something??

HOTD Characters Reaction To Your Campaign With Skims

Aegon was in the middle of scrolling through his phone, lazily lounging on the couch when his screen suddenly froze.

The SKIMS Valentine’s Day campaign.

Your face. Your body. Draped in lingerie so sheer it might as well be a second skin. Red silk, lace, curves accentuated perfectly—a vision of absolute sin. The shot that made his blood boil the most?

You, on a plush pink bed, biting your lip, fingers tangled in your hair—wearing nothing but a dangerously tiny bra and lace garters. The caption?

“Indulge yourself this Valentine’s Day. ❤️ #SKIMSLove”

The likes and comments were flooding in, men thirsting over you in real-time:

“THIS is what I want for Valentine’s Day.”

“Bro, she’s actually unreal.”

“Forget flowers, I’m sending divorce papers to my wife.”

“I just know her man is LOSING HIS MIND.”

Yeah. He was.

Aegon shot up, phone clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. His jaw? Tight. His eyes? Dark. His entire body radiated possessiveness, his breath coming out in ragged bursts.

His first instinct? Call you. Right. Now. But then he thought—No. No, you fucking knew what you were doing. Posting this without telling him? Letting the entire world drool over you while he was just supposed to sit there and take it?

His next move? Damage control.

The internet absolutely lost its mind.

The moment Aegon dropped the video on his Instagram story, everything went insane.

The clip was short but devastating—you, bent over his bed, skin flushed, your bare back marked with his claim, trembling, moaning his name like a prayer, wrecked beyond comprehension. Aegon’s hand came into view, gripping your waist, his voice low and smug, whispering,

“Didn’t think I’d let that SKIMS stunt slide, did you, baby?”

The internet? BROKE.

Twitter/X Exploded:

“THIS MAN JUST ENDED THE ENTIRE MALE POPULATION WTF”

“Aegon Targaryen is the pettiest, most unhinged man alive and I respect it.”

“She posted SKIMS, he posted HER. This is WAR.”

“HOW is this allowed on Instagram? WHO reported it? WHOEVER YOU ARE, WE FIGHT AT DAWN.”

“Bro turned Valentine’s Day into a public execution.”

Instagram Comments on His Last Post:

“Sir. Some of us are SINGLE.”

“That’s it. I’m deleting my boyfriend.”

“Y’all seeing her LEGS SHAKING??? Nah this man is different.”

“I’m not okay. I will never be okay.”

“We were thirsting over her SKIMS shoot and Aegon said ‘bet.’”

TikTok Reactions:

POV edits of Aegon with captions like “When your man reminds the world who you belong to 😵‍💫🔥”

Audio clips of “I want what they have” over slow-mo replays of the video

Girls fake crying into the camera with captions like “Me realizing I’ll never be this girl”

Reddit Threads:

r/popculturegossip

“Aegon Targaryen just HARD LAUNCHED his revenge arc, and I’ve never felt so single.”

“This is the most unhinged flex of all time, and I need therapy.”

“So we all agree he’s the pettiest man alive, right?"

Instagram eventually took the video down—but it was too late. Screenshots, edits, and memes had already flooded the internet. Aegon had won the war, and the internet was never recovering.

The second Aemond saw the photos—you, draped in delicate lace, barely covered, staring into the camera with that knowing, sultry look—his jaw clenched so tight it could snap.

His phone nearly cracked in his grip as he scrolled through the thousands of comments under the post:

“Mother is mothering.”

“Aemond is officially the luckiest man alive.”

“The male species has been defeated. We are but peasants.”

“You’re telling me this woman goes home to HIM??? Jail.”

A deep, dark chuckle left his lips—but it wasn’t amusement. It was pure, seething possession.

His eye twitched, his breathing heavy as he saw the likes flooding in—from men. From verified blue checks. From random nobodies who had no business looking at you like that.

“The fuck is this, darling?” His voice was deadly calm, but the way he stalked toward you, phone in hand, told you everything.

“A campaign.” You blinked at him, innocent. “For SKIMS.”

“A fucking campaign?” He scoffed, throwing his phone onto the table as he cornered you. “So that’s what we’re doing now? Letting every goddamn man on the internet see what’s MINE?”

He was pissed. Jealous. Possessive. His fingers traced up your arm, then gripped your jaw, tilting your face up to him.

“Tell me, did you enjoy it?” His voice dropped lower, dangerously soft. “Did you like having them all drooling over you?”

His eye burned into you, jaw tight as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

“Because now you’re going to remind them who you belong to.”

Aemond never lost control—but tonight? You were in for it.

The second Aemond posted the video, the internet broke.

It wasn’t just a thirst trap. It was a declaration. A warning. A final nail in the coffin for every man who thought they had a chance.

The clip was grainy, filmed through the dim light of his bedroom—his signature aesthetic. You were wrecked on his bed, wrists bound, body shaking, barely able to form a word except his name—moaned like a prayer, like a confession.

And Aemond? His signature smirk could be heard in his voice when he murmured:

“This is what happens when you forget who you belong to.”

Instagram Exploded :

“IS THIS EVEN ALLOWED???”

“So we’re just posting full-course MEALS now????”

“The way she’s literally trembling… yeah, I lost.”

"‘This is what happens when you forget who you belong to’ BRO CAN WE BREATHE???”

“The SKIMS campaign was for US. This? This was for HIM.”

“Aemond said, ‘You wanna model lingerie? Fine. Now model MY BED.’”

“The way she’s just a mess for him… If my man doesn’t love me like this, I DON’T WANT IT.”

Within minutes, Twitter (X) was on fire.

#AemondTargaryen

#SheBelongsToHim

#TiedUpForAemond

#OneEyedKing

Trending. Everywhere.

TWITTER/X MELTDOWN:

“I HAVEN’T EVEN RECOVERED FROM HER SKIMS SHOOT AND NOW THIS????”

“This man really said ‘revenge’ and ENDED US ALL.”

"Aemond Targaryen is a MENACE. I hate him. (I’m lying. I love him.)”

“THIS IS THE MOST POSSESSIVE, FILTHY, UNHINGED, HOTTEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN. HELP ME.”

TIKTOK COMMENTS UNDER THE VIDEO:

Pinned by Aemond Targaryen : “Revenge is sweet, baby."

“My FBI agent just logged out. This is TOO MUCH.”

“This is NOT just a revenge post—THIS IS A WARNING.”

“Imagine posting a SKIMS campaign and your man drops THIS as a response… She WINS.”

“Her Skims photos were for US. Aemond’s revenge was for HIM.”

Meanwhile, Aemond? He just sat back, smirking at his phone as he watched the world come to terms with what they already knew.

You were his. And there was no escaping it.

Jace never had an issue with you modeling. Until now.

He was in a meeting when his phone started blowing up. At first, he ignored it—until Aegon sent him a link with nothing but:

“LMAO. You good, bro?”

Frowning, Jace clicked.

And there you were.

Draped in red lace. Skin glowing. Eyes hooded. Posing in a way that had every man on the planet foaming at the mouth. The SKIMS Valentine’s campaign had dropped, and you were the star.

The moment he saw the lingerie—saw the way your body looked in it—his jaw locked so tight it could crack.

And then he saw the comments.

“I just KNOW Jace is punching the air rn.”

“She’s too fine. If he won’t wife her, I WILL.”

“Jace, be so serious… How does it feel to lose?”

“Why does she look single in these photos???”

“Jace, if you fumble, I’m RIGHT HERE.”

The moment the meeting ended, Jace stormed out of the office, grabbing his phone and calling you immediately.

You picked up, cheerful—which only pissed him off more.

“You having fun?” His voice was low, dangerous.

You giggled. “Jacey, baby, did you see the campaign?”

“Oh, I saw it. So did the rest of the fucking world.”

You hummed, unbothered. “And?”

Jace ran a hand through his curls, breathing hard. He could see the photos in his mind—how every man was lusting over you.

His girl.

And the worst part?

You knew exactly what you were doing.

“And,” he growled, “you better be home when I get there.”

“Why?” you teased, voice all sweetness and sin.

Jace let out a dark chuckle. “So I can remind you who the fuck you belong to.”

One minute, people were thirsting over your SKIMS campaign, and the next?

Jace dropped a bomb.

A video.

A very explicit video.

You, bare, ruined, trembling on his bed. Voice completely gone. Every breath ragged. Body shaking violently. Jace’s hand on your ass, smacking every time you tried to move away. His voice? Dark. Dangerous. Possessive.

“Was it worth it, baby? Hm? Letting the whole world see you like that? Look at you now—can’t even talk, can’t even move. Next time you wanna tease me, remember who the fuck you belong to.”

And his caption? Head Shot.

“Since y’all were so thirsty for her SKIMS campaign, here’s what happened after. Enjoy.”

Instagram Comments :

“JACE, WTF IS THIS? I CAN’T BREATHE.”

“He saw the SKIMS campaign and said ‘bet.’”

“NAH, THIS IS BIBLICAL. HER VOICE? GONE. BODY? FINISHED. JACE?? LAUGHING IN HER EAR?”

“This man took it PERSONAL LMFAO.”

“I ain’t never seen a man HUMBLED this fast 😭”

“THE WAY HE’S WHISPERING TO HER AND HIS HAND?? Y’ALL. I NEED HOLY WATER.”

“Her body shaking and his palm smacking down… Yeah. Yeah. That’s a man.”

“Jace saw the SKIMS campaign and said ‘MY GIRL. MINE.’”

“You just KNOW he was PISSED when he saw those lingerie pics 😭.”

“She went from SKIMS model to Jace’s favorite meal real fast.”

“THE WHOLE VIDEO IS JUST HIM RUINING HER LIFE AND HER LETTING HIM 😭.”

“I need everyone involved in this video ARRESTED.”

“Bro uploaded this like a warning. Like, ‘you thought you were single in those photos? Here’s your reminder.’”

“HE REALLY POSTED THIS AS REVENGE FOR SKIMS. THIS IS A POWER MOVE.”



TWITTER REACTIONS : Trending Topics:

#JaceVelaryon

#JusticeForHerVoice

#SKIMSRevenge

#IsSheAlive??

Comments :

“Jace is actually insane for posting this. HER BODY IS SHAKING. HER VOICE IS GONE. AND HE’S JUST THERE, WHISPERING AND LAUGHING??? HELLO???”

“You KNOW he was mad about SKIMS cause why is this video a whole RESPONSE??? 😭”

“If my man doesn’t ruin me like this after I piss him off, I don’t want him.”

“Jace: ‘You wanna do a lingerie campaign and let men thirst over you? Cool. But they’re gonna watch you break for ME.’”

“Jace really saw those SKIMS pics, picked up his phone, and said: ‘hold my beer.’”

“THAT MAN POSTED A WHOLE MOVIE. AMAZON PRIME COULD NEVER."

TIKTOK REACTIONS: Viral TikTok Caption

“POV: Jace Velaryon took his SKIMS revenge to another level and now we’re all screaming, crying, throwing up.”

Sound: Cardi B screaming “WHAT WAS THE REASON?!”

“Y’all, Jace didn’t just claim his girl. He PLANTED HIS FLAG.”

“Her legs shaking and him laughing about it…? Yeah. I need therapy.”

“Jace’s hand on her ass, the way she arched, the way he smacked down??? I HAVE NEVER KNOWN PEACE.”

FINAL VERDICT:

The internet is absolutely UNWELL. Jace won. You? Finished. The SKIMS campaign? Irrelevant.

The moment Daemon sees the SKIMS campaign, his entire demeanor shifts. He had been lounging in his office, scrolling absentmindedly through his phone—until your face, your body, wrapped in delicate lace, fills his screen. His jaw clenches, his grip on the phone tightening as he watches you pose effortlessly, seductive and stunning, every inch of you made to be worshipped.

And so were the thousands of comments under the post.

“She’s an angel AND a sin. How is that fair?”

“I need her. No, actually, I’ll die without her.”

“Whoever her man is, I hope he knows he lost her to the world today.”

Daemon lets out a dark chuckle, but there’s nothing amused about it. His blood is boiling, his possessiveness clawing at his insides. Lost you to the world? They had no idea who they were talking about.

With a sharp inhale, he slams his phone down on the desk and gets up, pacing the room. His mind races. He knows you love teasing him, knows you like pushing boundaries—but this? This was a direct challenge. A test. And Daemon Targaryen does not lose.

Grabbing his car keys, he heads straight for you. No calls. No texts. You knew what you had done. Now? Now, you’d deal with the consequences.

The internet exploded within minutes of Daemon’s post.

No caption. No explanation. Just you, completely wrecked—your expression dazed, mouth parted as soft whimpers left your lips. His hand cradled your face, slapping your cheek with a teasing, mocking rhythm. And though his other hand wasn’t in frame, the wetness sounds that filled the video left no room for imagination.

Twitter/X:

“WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST WATCH???”

“Daemon just said ‘she’s MINE’ without saying a single damn word.”

“This man saw the SKIMS shoot and said ‘bet’ 😭”

“HELP ME I CAN’T BREATHE WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE SOUNDS???”

Instagram Comments:

“Okay but the way she looks at him?? That’s not just lust, that’s ruin.”

“He posted this just to remind everyone he owns her and honestly? It worked.”

“WHO ALLOWED THIS TO BE ON MY FEED??? I have work in the morning.”

“I feel like I just saw something I shouldn’t have… and yet I can’t stop watching.”

TikTok Reactions:

Edits of the SKIMS shoot transitioning to Daemon’s video with captions like:

“She teased him, and he answered.”

“SKIMS said ‘sexy’—Daemon said ‘MINE’.”

Compilation of reactions to the sound alone, with people throwing their phones across the room or covering their faces in shock.

Reddit Threads:

“Daemon Targaryen just changed the internet forever.”

“The SKIMS campaign was a declaration. Daemon’s video? A WAR CRIME.”

“How do we recover from this? WE DON’T.”

While some were losing their minds over the intensity, others were spiraling at the undeniable claim staked in that video. Daemon wanted the world to know—you were his, and no amount of cameras or campaigns would ever change that.

Tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @ashblooddragons @callsignwidow

Thank you to @zaldritzosrose for letting me using your dividers ❤️‍🩹

[nightscythe]

light sides of the primarchs' relationships

happy valentine’s day!! this one is a bit happier than the 'dark sides' one for obvious reasons. as always just my opinion. if there is anything else you would like to see, let me know! enjoy!!

18+, it's not necessarily nsfw but suggestive themes. based on pre-heresy interpretations.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the lion: the ultimate protector. you'd never feel unsafe in his presence. not just from legitimate threats, but.. waking up in the morning to find his arms around you, eyes watching you, lips ghosting your hair as though he would never be able to let you go. you're minding your own business reading a book or listening to others talk, and even though he's on the other side of the room he's still watching, calculating, making sure every single person near you is treating you well. if anyone did try anything? nice knowing them. you become his priority. his endless war. nothing will ever harm you again, except maybe him, on his endless war with making you feel every ounce of pleasure the universe can offer. ;)

fulgrim: is also your best friend, but not in the typical guy way. he's literally invested in every single one of your stories, he knows everyone's little secret, he comes back to you with tales he's learnt and weekly scandalous gossip. he knows everything about you. it's not even deliberate either, he's just so in sync with you that he could take a wild guess and still get it right. nights together can feature many things, all of which are thoroughly enjoyed due to his ability to perfect every single thing he does, but knowing there will never be a time you cannot talk to him about something? knowing he'd give you the best advice, more accurate responses, it's very comforting.

perty: you know everything with him is genuine. he would never lie to you, and that may be hard to swallow at first, but really? its a godsend. he'd not try to make you feel better by telling you a slight truth, he'd rather help you to move past it, work on the issue, etc. and that's why, a long way down the line when he does give you infrequent but honest words about his love for you, it means more than anything. there is not someone in the galaxy that you could trust more than this man, not with your life, your secrets, or your heart. and really, it would only ever get stronger over time.

the khan: enjoyably unpredictable. a man who values freedom always would be. he uses his instincts in everything and therefore it may not always be easy to know what he's going to do next. would encourage you to do things you may never have thought about, shows you new parts of the galaxy and introduces you to topics and concepts you knew nothing about before him. for that reason, he's an absolute storm when you are alone. completely unpredictable and completely dedicated to pleasing you. he's also just enjoyable to be around. he may be a touch arrogant and quick tempered, but he's witty, sarcastic, and excellent with his successful attempts to rile you up with teases.

leman: his love is very pure and built on a huge amount of respect. small gifts, tokens of appreciation, oh its all coming out with him. 'made me think of you' type thing and it's the most beautifully designed canvas that you know he wouldn't have just stumbled across. of course this is very different to how everyone else sees him, and no one would believe you. uses that to his advantage. loses all sense of practicality though when it comes to you and would probably show you 110% of his emotions even when he didn't intend to. his heart is in it, no half measures, you're his entire world now and as long as you will let him, he will love you for the rest of his life.

dorn: he is cold, but there is that burning fire that rages beneath. and when the cracks are fully formed? its impossible to ignore. he will not say I love you, but show you he loves you. there are never ups and downs, no maybes - its always a definite. if you need something? he gets it. you are worried about something? there is no need to worry for it any longer. he plans, he knows what to do to help you, he would never give reason to doubt that 1. he could protect you, and 2. his unwavering loyalty to you. does everything in his power to please you, particularly in the physical manner. when he's around, everything feels intense, and its oh so hard to ignore.

curze: he's trying. he is. you can see it each day. sometimes its not obvious, but he really does watch other people and try to imitate what they do to show you the love you deserve. because in his mind? you deserve it all. would he ever tell you that. no. he'd find it stupid. he'd rather keep it all to himself. but sometimes he bottles too much inside and it all comes out, all at once, every feeling he has. in that moment he just needs someone to hold him, reassure him, and be there to feel the love that follows. of course it isn't conventional, but even if he just taught you tarot, explained his twisted thoughts, tried to show you your fate - he's sharing a part of him that he'd not let another see.

sanguinius: effortlessly devoted, but not in the obsessive, overbearing way. you can see it in his eyes. he doesn't need to worship the ground you walk on or call in a choir to sing about you, you can just feel it. the small gestures. something so meaningful but so tiny that it almost snaps reality. helping you to braid your hair. trying his best to help you with something that he could have just ignored. listening to you with intent - not because he loves you so much he doesn't want to look away, but because he wants to hear you. listen to you. understand everything he can about you. it's so natural to him and warms you every time. something something doesn't care what time of the month it is either.

ferrus: always pushes you to be the best version of yourself. of course I have covered the bad side of this, but provided it's tamed, he understands there are limits, it can be rewarding. he will always reassure you that he doesn't need you to be perfect to love you, and would always encourage you to make decisions which benefited you - not anyone else. you'd also get to see his emotions, a rarity, knowing he only trusts so many to see him like that. a national accompaniment to this is that he pays a lot of attention to you. knows you extremely well. so if you ever argue, or don't talk for whatever reason.. be sure to engage the full ferrus apology - bedroom and all. crafts you really nice things too (of course)

angron: love is the only quiet he gets from pain. when you see him at ease, even for only a few moments, you can rest assured knowing that you were helping him. when he holds your hand, when he stands before you and defends you with his whole being, when he lets you fall into his arms and hesitantly wraps them around you. you know then that it's true. because he wouldn't do that for anyone else, and he couldn't physically do that if he did not have a moment of reprieve. and he knew as well that you gave him a chance, saw him for more than what everyone else did. that means more to him that anything.

rob: truly appreciates you. like, will show you, will make sure you know, will do anything in his power to make sure you're aware that the only reason he has an ounce of sanity left is because of you. you're the only person he will pause everything for, he will turn everything off to listen to you and your thoughts, he will actively seek your opinion on things he knows you would be happy to give it on, etctec. he just treats you like an equal. and considering who he is, that may be hard. but he does value you. yes he is pulled in every direction by all his duties but he knows where the limit is, and if either of you are reaching it, he will do what he can to make sure you feel happy and secure.

morty: it's those quiet moments that really stand out. when he lets his guard down for just a second, when he finally trusts you and knows that he would give his life for you until the very end. it wouldn't be easy for him to admit, and he probably never would admit it, but that one moment where he finally relaxes his shoulders and just lets you carry his burdens with him? it really does show a lot. and he would give everything for you. not even an ounce would be spared. it's easy to see it when he says it, that he loves you, even if he doesn't know the true meaning of the word. may not be conventional love, but to him, its everything.

magnus: there is not another who could love as much as he could. it's that simple. he's so utterly in love with you that he'd move heaven and earth just to see you smile. for a man with so many things going on, so many things to remember and do, he still keeps you at the very top of everything. finds little things for you that he'd think you like. recounts stories to see your smile. lays beside you and holds your hand whilst you tell him what's on your mind. it's routine for him, he does it without even thinking. nothing, and that is a hard nothing, will ever make him as happy as you do, and even when you're not around everyone hears your name, little snippets of his love for you, how much you mean to him, etc. he's so enamoured, so trusting, so in awe, that everything you do means something to him.

horus: incredibly intuitive and knows what you need before you do. has the tea and some fruit in his hands before you'd even mentioned you were thinking of having some. had someone prepare you a bath before you even said you were stressed. brought you some flowers when you were feeling down. cancels all his plans because you need someone with you. he does it to show he cares, knowing that sometimes he can be distant or busy, and it can be incredibly effective. also holds you incredibly tight. like your hand, when he embraces you, etcetc, it's like you're his security blanket in a way, which seems stupid because why does he need one, but actually he finds a lot of comfort in your presence.

lorgar: perfect if you want to be worshipped. that's how he'd treat you. and yes this has a dark side. but limited, not indulged or used for bad purposes, a good balance can be met. he's soft. his world would crumble without you. his exterior and how others view him is so different to what he's like with you that it seems wrong. but you are his everything. he would tell you it every day. he'd make sure you never forgot it. it may not be evidential to everyone, he's not proclaiming his love and devotion to anyone he sees, but to you its obvious. a silent prayer for your protection each day. for your good health. for anything he can do for you. and you'd know he'd burn worlds for you - just use that for the right purposes.

vulkan: a kind soul meant for love. he's not obsessed and devoted. he's not silent and brooding. he's what you think of when you have soulmate in mind. it seems to just come natural to him. he's your best friend, your lover, your everything - and he takes pride in that. he'd not need to burn worlds for you, he'd not watch you from the other side of the room without a world, he'd be beside you with his hand gently rested on you. it's just... normal? is that bad to say? but like the version of normal you always wanted, the normal in romance novels which warped our perceptions of relationships. you know. cute.

corax: incredibly loyal. quietly loving you from a distance until he's with you, then he's far more passionate and open. he's not one to have elaborate gestures done in your name, he probably wouldn't even do more than speak in a normal tone whenever others are around. but you know he's there. a brush of your hand with his when you look uncomfortable or worried. a glance in your direction every so often if you are separated. he'd always find his way back to you though, and you always know he's there at your side. and yes, very passionate when it's just you two, so much so you'd have first doubted it was the same person. he just saves it all for you. especially few things he's picked up along the way he thinks you may enjoy.

alpharius: you could never doubt his love. he'd never let you. it's so obvious that it's what makes telling him apart so simple. he just can't deny it when he's around you, he can't resist it at all. love is in everything he does. his touches as he walks past. his names for you. his insistence on always having you in his arms. it can be endearing. it is nice knowing that you are so loved, never a doubt in your mind that he does care. and if you do doubt him? he will change that. you won't ever doubt him again. you don't ever need to worry about his love for you, it won't change. he'll never stop loving you.

˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗

[pjmmania]

If Snow Decides to Fall

8. “Bumps in the road.”

Author's Note: Another rollercoaster of a chapter…oops ;)

Chapter Warnings: heavy smut (extremely kinky), pregnancy, explicit language, toxic parental relationship, mental health struggles

Taglist: @marihoneywk @amarawayne @chimmy-licious

Back to Chapter Index

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Jimin you can't just leave now," Yoongi said, "This is serious."

Hoseok scoffed, "Yeah, you can't just tell us 'Seoyeon's back' without a little elaboration."

Grabbing his room key off the mini bar, Jimin paused. His back was turned to the group. He could hardly think, after having just screamed at Namjoon and received the most unexpected information.

His shoulders dropped from a tense height as he exhaled a deep breath. He had sent you a text immediately after getting off the call. You were awake and agreed to speak with him about it. It wasn't like you were going to be able to sleep anytime soon.

His voice was now scratchy from yelling, "I need to speak to Y/N. She’s meeting me in my room. I think she tried to tell me this earlier, multiple times. We just kept getting interrupted."

"I agree that she needs to be a part of the conversation, but so do we," Jin replied gently, "It's a delicate situation. I'm sure the company will handle it, but we should all be on the same page here. This woman almost...well we all know what she almost did."

"Then come with me if you want. I don't care," Jimin turned to face them all, his eyes firmly alert as he pointed at Namjoon, "But not you. I don't want you near her."

The blonde man was completely calm at this point, maybe even humble, "Jimin-"

"No,” he held solid, “I haven’t told everyone in this room yet, but at the ultrasound we found out that her blood pressure is too high. It’s largely due to stress, and it could become a real problem if she can’t get it under control. The last thing she needs is to feel under attack.”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon said, his tone sincere and soft, “I didn’t know that. And I’m sorry for the argument. I think it’s important for us all to know what’s going on, like Jin said. You have my word that I’ll shut up and listen. But I don’t want to affect her health and if you truly don’t want me there, I’ll respect it. I’m…I’m really sorry.”

His head dropped as if to hide in shame. The man rubbed his palm against his forehead.

No one spoke, waiting for Jimin’s response.

He pursed his lips together and closed his eyes, “Fine. Let's go."

As they all filtered out of Hoseok's room and into his, which was further down the hall, you were on your way up in your sleep shorts, another one of Jimin's t-shirts, and slippers.

You were so glad that the company didn't book you a shared room with Chaeyoung. Otherwise, this would be tough to explain.

The guys were on the top floor. They had an entire hallway booked out for them, to give them a nice cushion of privacy. You were confident no one would see you, but just in case, you wore your company staff badge on a lanyard around your neck.

You could feel the anxiety bubbling up within you, so you focused on controlling deep breaths in the elevator. When you reached their floor, no one was around. A blessing, amid the mess.

As you rounded corner after corner, you checked Jimin's text to recall his room number.

When you came upon the correct door, you knocked. It was opened instantly, as if he’d been waiting by the entry for you.

He pitied the sight of you standing there, looking worn down. Suspicion of any wrongdoing on your account was impossible. He saw it all on your face, but he wanted an explanation nonetheless.

He pulled you inside, closed the door, and brought you into his arms, “Come here, baby.”

You settled in his embrace as you peered at the group behind him. To your relief, none of them looked upset with you, not even Namjoon.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I was trying to tell you.”

His hand stroked your hair, “I know. It’s okay. Nothing is horribly wrong.”

The other members were shocked he could say such a thing. They all had cause to be very worried, but if he wasn’t going to panic, then neither would they.

When he released you, he checked your face to make sure you were calm. His lips pulled upward into a soft grin, putting aside any of his own worries for the sake of your mental state. You nodded at him, letting him know you were ready to talk about it.

Holding your hand, Jimin brought you into the suite. You exchanged subdued greetings with the others and decided to sit on the edge of the king-sized bed. Your partner sat beside you and handed you a bottle of water, in case you needed it.

“I, um, I guess I’ll just say what happened…” you cleared your throat, “At the airport yesterday, I got shoved in that swarm of fans and the woman standing behind me picked me up. It turned out to be Seoyeon. We sort of just went through TSA together and grabbed a coffee. Until Chaeyoung showed up and recognized her, I wasn’t certain it was really her. I know that you all rightfully have a negative view of her, but she was actually very kind to me. Our conversation ended when she realized that I worked for the company…and that I know you guys. It made her uncomfortable.”

“What did you guys talk about?” Jimin asked putting a soothing hand around your wrist, “I mean…did she mention anything or infer anything?”

“About you or BTS? Not specifically. She made a comment about the industry, though. She said it ‘wasn’t her scene’.”

Jungkook jeered at that, rolling his eyes, “Oh please.”

Your boyfriend scooted a little closer to you, swallowing up his pride, “I’m afraid you’ll need to be more specific. What did you talk about?”

You closed your eyes, wanting to sink into the mattress beneath you, “Babies. We talked about babies. She’s pregnant as well.”

Jimin let go of your wrist. The room went stiff.

You sighed, looking down at your lap, “She married a CEO and was on her way to LA to see him. Nothing nefarious. She wasn’t following you guys or anything. I-I think it was all just a coincidence.”

The guys were waiting for Jimin to reply first.

“No,” he looked at you with all the assurance you needed, “I’m sure it was. If she’s married and starting a family, I highly doubt that she has the time or motivation to screw with us.”

Namjoon looked like he was biting his tongue.

Taehyung leaned against the wall with arms crossed over his chest, “That is, unless she could have had any indication that you two are together now.”

You gulped and looked at your boyfriend, “No, she couldn’t have. Your name never even came up. And we didn’t discuss BTS beyond a brief mention of the airport mob. When she realized who I worked for, she left. She had no interest in digging for more information.”

He sensed your nerves and put his arm around you, “Hey, it’s okay. I believe you. Management told me they will keep an eye out for any rumors, but they weren’t very concerned either. It appears we don’t need to worry about her, so we won’t. Just wanted to hear it from you, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi reinforced, glancing at Jimin before you, “Don’t sweat it.”

The leader of the group dipped his head, brows knitted together in a broadcast of regret.

You nodded, “Okay. Sorry to ruin your little celebration.”

“How did you know?” Jin chuckled.

“It’s no secret that you guys enjoy a some drinks after a shoot like this,” you broke into a grin, “Plus you all smell a bit like champagne.”

Most of them laughed at the comment. Jimin pecked your temple and you yawned. Now that your conscience was clear, sleepiness overtook you.

"Will you come to the dinner with us tomorrow, Y/N?" Hoseok questioned.

"Dinner?"

"Just a team dinner sort of thing. Us and all the staff that came along," Jungkook elaborated, "You should come."

You smiled, "Sounds fun, though I might need to have Chae take me shopping. This could be an excuse for me to finally go get some maternity clothes.”

“Your bump has gotten bigger.” Taehyung smirked.

The oldest member elbowed him, “Don’t say that! It’s rude.”

You laughed and put your hand on your belly, “But it’s true. I’ve grown out of almost every cute top I own. Once it gets cooler, I’m going to need new jeans as well. Ugh, just new everything.”

Hoseok broke into a tender laughter. Everyone looked confused.

Grinning curiously, Jimin asked him, "What, Hobi?"

"Sorry, it's nothing," his eyes were narrow in a glad squint, "I just can't believe you guys are really having a baby. Why does it suddenly feel so real now?"

Yours and Jimin's hearts were warmed.

"It's going to be fun," Jungkook concurred, his endearing bunny smile shining, "Chasing after a tiny version of one of us. Is it a boy or girl?"

"We aren't going to find out," your boyfriend smirked, "Care to make a wager? We each put in fifty-thousand won and then the winning side splits the pot."

Now you were in a playful mood and interjected, "It's a boy. I can feel it."

Jimin laughed and nudged you, "That's a lie. You said you didn't have a gut feeling."

You shrugged, "Well now I do."

"I still think it's a girl," he said before looking at all the members, "And my prediction is more legitimate. I felt it from the beginning."

"I say girl." Jungkook voiced.

"Girl." Jin nodded.

"Boy," Taehyung, "Gotta side with Y/N's maternal instincts."

"Nope," Hoseok chuckled, "Nothing against your instincts, Y/N, but Jimin's a girl dad."

Yoongi pondered it momentarily, "I honestly have no idea, but I'll go with boy, just to keep it interesting."

"If you must, but you're going to have to fork it over when you meet my daughter." Jimin taunted.

The father of the child placed his hand on your protruding abdomen. The gaiety on his face was raw and undeniable. He was happy - truly happy.

Namjoon took stock of this. Only then did it click. There was no way you could be like Seoyeon. She could never create that look on his face, nor could anyone else. Hana’s words replayed in his mind. She was right - you’d done nothing to indicate malevolence. That was the proof in itself.

He was disgusted with himself, so much that he couldn’t find any words to say. How could he even begin to apologize? Until this point, he had been the least supportive friend. He had gone out of his way to try to tear Jimin from a source of pure joy and love.

Wanting to be nice, you extended it to the one person you hadn't given his prediction. "Namjoon?"

Feeling apart from his own self, he stood slowly, “I’m…I’m going to go to bed. Long day, you know?”

There were no utterances of dismay. His cadence was downtrodden, not angry. This was not an act of protest - it was one of contrition.

For once, Jimin saw and believed the remorse, but he let him exit the room regardless. He found himself unable to forgive so easily. What he did was too far over the line.

After the door closed, you looked at all of them, "I think he's starting to come around, actually. Today he-"

"Don't mention that, please." Your boyfriend removed his hand from your bump and used it to sweep hair out of his face, tongue poking his cheek.

"Oh, you already know about what he said?"

"He told us," Jin sat down in his place, "Sorry about that."

"It's alright."

"It's the furthest thing from 'alright'," Jimin groaned with vexation, "The fact that he would go so far as to denigrate you like that to your face."

You put your hand on his back and rubbed it, "Well, it was awkward, but I didn't get the sense that he was purposefully trying to denigrate me. It felt like he was really just searching for answers, out of a place of care...for you."

"That’s no excuse.” he bit back.

You were plainly too tired to get into it. Your body craved rest, and you yawned once more. It forced your boyfriend back to a focus solely set on you.

“You guys should leave. We’re going to turn in.”

You flashed him a puzzled look, “Wait, no. I can’t sleep here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jin laughed lightly as he and the others began to head out, “Anything for your spooning time.”

Jimin chuckled, though his mood wasn’t necessarily jubilant.

You still objected, “Jimin, I really shouldn’t sleep here.”

He wore that gorgeous grin that no woman could refuse, “It’s no big deal, I promise. There are no other staff staying on this floor and you aren’t sharing a room with Chaeyoung. No one will notice.”

Jungkook tiffed, “Not to be weird, but if you were able to pull off spending that many nights at his apartment without being caught, I think you’re good.”

“Night, love birds.” Yoongi called before they all headed out the door.

As much as you didn’t want to risk getting caught, there was always a gravitational pull towards the solace that Jimin never failed to provide for you. You had a hard time saying no to his company.

In this large hotel room now with a population of two, you both took a moment to relax.

He then patted your knee twice and stood up, “You get comfortable, sweetheart. I’m going to clean up real quick.”

As he stood up, you caught the traces of lightness fade from his features. They were replaced with those of hurt, of confusion.

He walked into the bathroom and flicked the light on, closing the door behind him.

You sat there on the bed and listened to the sink run. It wasn’t lost on you that the news was jarring for him. You could only imagine how bizarre it was to have her in the loop of discussion. He’d told you before that she wasn’t someone he liked to talk about - there was a world of pain there that you didn’t know intimately.

He deserved to feel odd about all of this. It had to be okay for him to show a little disdain. He didn’t have to put on a show of strength for you all the time.

When he returned to the bedroom, there was the slightest furrow of his brows, as if he was in deep thought.

You shifted onto your knees, the fluffy white covers beneath you, hands in your lap, “Jimin, can we talk for a minute?”

“Hm?” he spun around, rubbing the back of his neck, “Oh, yeah. Sure.”

“You’re distraught. Is it Namjoon?”

“I mean, yeah, but not entirely. I’ve sort of gotten used to feeling this way about him, unfortunately.”

It was Seoyeon.

You tilted your head, eyes full of pity and concern, “I see…It’s alright for you to feel strange about all of this. I know it’s freaked you out a little.”

He sat on the other side of the bed, back facing you, “I’m not freaked out. I have all the faith that she won’t do anything stupid. It sounds funny, given the way things ended between us, but I know she wouldn’t stoop that low. Especially if she’s…you know.”

“Married and pregnant?”

He paused, revealing the true thorn in his side, “Yes…”

“Jimin, it’s normal to feel weird about an ex moving on. She broke up with you and then quickly got married and now she’s having a baby. It’s not easy to digest. And that’s okay.”

“It’s not even that,” he looked back at you over his shoulder, “It just pisses me off that she got what she wanted. She got her money, her high status. I sort of always took comfort that by ending it with me, she was cheating herself out of getting all of that. But she fucking got it in the end, and she doesn’t deserve it.”

You crawled across the bed to kneel behind him, and you began to rub his shoulders, “So she went and probably used this other guy. I agree that she doesn’t deserve it. But…if we spend time focusing on resenting her, then she gets another win. Personally, I don’t feel like handing another victory to someone who hurt the man I love.”

His shoulders dropped as he shook his head, “How is your heart this golden?”

“It’s not,” you sighed as you let go and scooted over to sit down next to him, “My heart has been tarnished. The fact that my parents won’t even speak to me has been devastating. Sometimes I feel so angry with them that I start to like the idea of never seeing them again. It’s horrible to say, but sometimes I think of our child never having a relationship with them, and I’m content. But then I realize how much power I give them when I do that.”

You began to get choked up, and it was evident by the break in your voice, “And people who would abandon their daughter don’t get to control.”

He put his hand on your knee and frowned, heartbroken for you, “Baby…”

You nodded, pulling it together, “And so, out of my resentment comes some kind of forced indifference. I just choose not to pay them mind, and I can move on. I don’t focus on what they deserve or don’t deserve. I just let the situation be, for the sake of my own peace.”

He kissed your cheek and then you let that same cheek rest on his shoulder.

“I love you,” he said, “You’re right. Letting it linger will only hurt me, not her. And you and our baby girl are far more worth the energy.”

You smiled, “You really are confident about the girl thing, huh?”

“Of course I am,” he chuckled, “I know everything.”

"Well, I know something you don't know."

Voice soft, he hummed, "Hm?"

"I felt movement today." you couldn't help but giggle the words out.

Jimin was instantly more alert. He hastily scooted further from you so he could turn to face you, eyes wide with wonderment, "You did?"

You nodded, "Just these tiny tapping sensations. The baby books are right. It feels like bubbles popping. Actually, it sort of tickled."

He threw his arms around you and laughed melodiously, which caused you to laugh harder. His joy was contagious to you. His embrace was so forceful that you fell back onto the bed together, though he was instinctively careful not to put his full weight on you.

He pulled away so he could lift his shirt from your abdomen and kiss right below your belly button. Then he cooed, "Good job, little one. Daddy's so proud of you for learning how to wiggle around in there."

You cupped your bump as you melted at his words, “Keep growing strong. We love you.”

*Three days later*

It was around eight at night when you heard the door unlatch from where you were standing, at the stove. A hot meal was in progress for you both, simmering in the pot in front of you.

You smiled when you heard him let out a breath of relief to finally be home. You had gotten in a few hours earlier - yours and Chaeyoung's departing flight left before the boys'.

Jimin, still in the entryway, slipped his shoes off and grinned, shaking his head, "Are you cooking?"

"I am." you called back.

He appeared around the corner in shorts and a white t-shirt, with one of his quintessential black bucket hats on his head. Appropriate attire for this scalding September heat.

He took off his hat and let it sit on the island, "Smells amazing."

Then you felt his arms wrap around your middle. As had become a habit, his palms laid flat against your belly.

You hummed as you stirred, "Hi."

"Hi," he smirked, "How are you?"

"Hungry. How are you?"

His low chuckle sounded right by your ear, "Starving. Thanks for doing this. I was prepared to just order something."

"Isn't it nice having me around?" you teased.

Jimin's lips landed behind your ear, "It's a dream having you around, sweetheart...Is this one of your new shirts, by the way?"

It was. Prior to that dinner in LA, you had convinced Chaeyoung to go to the mall with you. You ended up returning home with far more clothing than you brought, all accommodating to your changing shape. The top you were currently wearing was a simple fitted t-shirt in a pretty mocha brown. The material was comparable to that of a yoga top, all soft and stretchy.

"Mhm." you replied.

"I love it. I got so used to seeing you in all these loose tops. Well, my tops. Now I get to see my woman get all nice and big.”

Your mouth went agape as your face turned red, “What a perverted thing to say.”

He smirked into your neck as he kissed you again, “What you deem as perverse is actually just a common thought for any man. And don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

Then he gave your ass a playful slap and went to get himself a glass of water.

While he was at the fridge, you continued to stir, “When will you guys get to see the final cut of the music video?”

“Eh,” he said as he put his glass under the water dispenser, causing it to run, “Usually takes weeks, if not months. But this one doesn’t use as many CGI effects, so it might be faster.”

“What would you guys need CGI for? That theatre was stunning.”

“Yeah,” he grinned, “I loved it. That was probably my favorite choreography we’ve ever done. And my favorite wardrobe.”

The uptick in his inflection made you break into a laugh, “You flatter me.”

“I mean it,” he gulped down some of the cold water, “It was extremely detailed and everything matched the feel of the song. Tell me, whose idea was it to put me and Jungkook in corsets?”

Again, you threw your head back and laughed, “That was Chae. But it was my idea to put you in the white suit.”

Jimin drew closer and leaned over the counter next to you, head propped up by his elbow as he watched you cook, “That was a brilliant choice, baby.”

Looking into the pot, you grinned with a feigned arrogance, “I’m aware. Here, taste this.”

You spooned up a sampling of the sauce and fed it to him. He smacked his lips together a couple times as he absorbed the flavor.

“Need anything?”

“Pinch more of salt.”

You nodded and took the salt shaker from the countertop on your right. You flipped it over and twisted to grind some of its contents into the pot. After giving it another stir, Jimin dipped his finger into the sauce and put it in his mouth.

“Mm,” he affirmed, “Perfect.”

The two of you ate together at the kitchen island. He got himself a bottle of soju from the fridge to take with dinner. When your plates were clean, he took the prerogative to do all the dishes.

“I’ll help you.” you said once he grabbed your plate.

“I’ve got it,” he replied assuredly, “Go shower or get in your pajamas or something.”

With that, he kissed your forehead and went to the sink, slinging one of the drying towels over his shoulder. To you, a warm shower sounded amazing.

You rose from the chair and paused, feeling a little lightheaded. It only lasted a couple of seconds, insignificant. Then you proceeded like normal out of the kitchen and into the bathroom for your rinse.

The water patting on your skin was a massage. You closed your eyes and simply let the droplets hit you for a few minutes, your head falling back. Breaths entered and then left your lungs slowly. It was all supposed to relax you, but instead your mind began to race. Your brain had time to spin, and the weight of it all pressed on your conscience.

You didn’t know when you’d speak to your parents again, or if.

You’d just come back from a successful weekend doing a job you truly loved, and your days working for the company were numbered.

The ex-girlfriend had reappeared.

Your pregnancy and relationship were causing a fracture in one of your boyfriend’s deepest friendships.

The most beautiful part of your life, your love with Jimin, was a like a glittering treasure kept hidden from the world, unable to blossom freely.

You were going to be a mother. A mother. A new person would be entering the world entirely dependent on you for survival and guidance. Ironically, this troubled you less than any of the other things.

You drew in a sharp, hitched breath, held it for a second, and blew it out.

*The next day*

“I just wanted to congratulate you on a successful trip. The producers applauded you and Chaeyoung with your punctuality and attention to detail.”

You were meeting with Sanghee, recapping the shoot.

“Thank you,” you nodded your head with a smile, “I’m so grateful you asked me to go.”

She was warmhearted, “Of course. You are one of the strongest on this team, Y/N. You’ve shown great promise in the time you’ve been here. It was about time you went on one of those trips. I’m sure there will be plenty more in your future. Plus, I wanted you to get a taste of what tour will be like.”

Your eyes got wider, as you hadn’t thought about that in a while, “Oh, right.”

She laughed, swiveling from side to side in her chair, “I know it feels like a long way off, but things move fast around here, as you’ve seen. While I’m at it, I wanted to plant the seed for you to begin thinking about how you’d like to allocate your time on the tour.”

You tilted your head to the side, “Sorry, I’m not sure what you mean?”

“Well, I know it would be extremely tough for you, being a new mom and all. You’d never be expected to be there for the first leg if you didn’t want to. I assumed you’d want to do short stints. But then again, I don’t know what your childcare plan looks like.”

“R-Right,” you sighed, “I will start thinking about all of that. Honestly, there’s a lot I need to work out still.”

Your boss laughed, “Yes, I can imagine. But please know we will be as flexible as we can. You’re valued here and we’d love for you to be there wherever you can make it work.”

It gave you some juice, to hear how wanted you were. A confidence booster was so needed at the moment.

“Thank you, Sanghee. That really means a lot to me.”

“Absolutely,” she crossed one leg over, before taking a sip of coffee from the self-heating mug on her desk, “So enough about work. How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing well,” your sigh was content this time as your hand glided over your new satin maternity blouse, “Started feeling little kicks. My blood pressure had been running a bit high, but other than that it’s good. I’m getting really excited to meet him or her.”

“Ah, my blood pressure was high too, when I was pregnant with my second. I was put on this one medication, I forget the name of it. But it saved me from going on bed rest.”

Your posture sank slightly, “My doctor warned me about bed rest, so I’m glad to hear there’s a medication for it that’s safe for pregnancy.”

Sanghee showed you a sympathetic grin, “Just keep drinking water and eat lots of yogurt. Avocados too, if you like them. They lower blood pressure.”

“I’ll give them a try.” you smirked.

“Good. Speaking of food, I’m heading out for lunch. There’s a new grill down the street that I’ve been dying to try. Care to join?”

Her praise and friendliness felt so good. You couldn’t help but want to please her by agreeing to tag along.

“Sure!”

Your boss stood from her chair and grabbed her large burgundy alligator skin purse, “Perfect. I know it’s hot out there, but are you okay to walk? I’m trying to get my steps in.”

You rose from your chair as well, “Yeah, that’s no…n-no problem…”

Your speech slowed as another wave of dizziness occupied your body. You blinked rapidly, trying to get a handle. There was a troubling lightness in your head. Your chest felt fuzzy.

“Y/N?” Sanghee walked around her desk and held your forearm.

You had a ten-mile stare. Your chest was rising and falling with depth as you wobbled. As your lids began to hang low, she took the initiative and forced you to sit back down in the chair.

Once sitting again, your wits returned. Embarrassed, you shook your head, “Sorry. I’m alright. Just kind of woozy. It’s been happening lately, mostly when I stand up.”

“Kind of woozy?” Sanghee laughed nervously, “You almost just passed out. Why don’t you head home for the rest of the day? Get some rest.”

“Oh, no I’m fine. I stood up too fast.”

“You just told me your blood pressure has been elevated. Now I’m not going to let one of my stylists pass out on my watch. Besides, there’s nothing super important going on today.”

You denied once more, “No really, I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

Sanghee put her warm hands on your shoulders and gave you a stern smile, “I know you’re okay. I just want you to be cautious. You’re probably running on fumes from traveling. Go home, crawl into bed, and get a long nap in. I will find Chaeyoung and have her fill in for you with any small tasks.”

Begrudgingly, you agreed. You got to your feet much slower this time and took it easy as you thanked her and headed back into your office to get your things.

You closed the door behind you and proceeded to put your laptop in your bag, pulling out your phone as you did so.

It wasn’t something you wanted to do, but he would want to be kept informed. You texted Jimin to call you when he got the chance. It would have been your first choice to call him, but you didn’t know what he was up to at the moment and wouldn’t want to disturb.

You flicked off the lights and headed home.

Chaeyoung was on her way to the upper floors of the building. She was trying to locate one of the Managers to turn in her expense report for the trip to LA for reimbursement. Sanghee caught her hopping in the elevator and informed her of your early departure from the office.

As a friend, she worried for you. And that worry remained written on her face when she reached the floor she needed. She pitied you for having to balance so much.

A lack of attention was paid to her direction. When rounding a corner, she bumped into Namjoon. It was a rare occurrence. His studio was nearby, but hardly anyone saw the man when he worked in there. He would come to work and lock in for hours, sometimes even the whole day.

“Oh I’m so sorry!” she squeezed her eyes shut, mortified.

Having known her for a while, Namjoon thought it appropriate to pat her on the shoulder with a lighthearted chuckle, “No problem. You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she huffed, “Only a little concerned for Y/N. Sanghee just sent her home. Apparently she almost fainted.”

His disquiet was genuine. With furrowed brows and a tilted head, he pressed for more information, “Oh shit. Just now?”

“Yeah,” your colleague sighed, clutching the expense report to her chest, “I hope she’s alright. I do worry about her sometimes.”

Namjoon nodded with a hum, “No one wants her to get hurt. I’m sure she’ll rest up and be fine, though. Good to see you, Chae.”

He barely heard her reply when he walked away somewhat briskly. It didn’t matter what had been going on behind the scenes - he just had to let him know.

He’d be in the gym right about now, getting some quick strength training in. Probably with Jungkook at his side.

He hustled down the stairwell because he knew he’d run into less people that way. When he finally reached the gym, his prediction proved true. Joking around while getting some reps in were Jimin and Jungkook.

The two caught him out of the corners of their eyes when they noticed him hurrying over. He wasn’t dressed in workout attire either, so they figured he wasn’t here to join them. Not that Jimin wanted him to.

Namjoon was a bit breathless.

“Hey,” Jungkook nodded his head upward, “Distraught?”

“I don’t know,” he looked at Jimin, “Maybe. I just bumped into Chaeyoung.”

In your boyfriend’s mind, her name was linked with yours. This had something to do with you - the pit in his gut told him as much.

His face softened, shoulders slumped. His voice carried a desperation, “Don’t drag it out, please. Just tell me.”

“Everything’s fine, I think,” Namjoon said more quietly, “But Y/N’s been sent home. Chae said she almost passed out in the office. I don’t know…I remembered the blood pressure thing and thought you’d want to know.”

Jimin went into action mode.

All reservations towards him were put aside. They had to be. Jimin didn’t enjoy it, but he uttered the words, “Thanks for letting me know. I have to go check on her.”

Hastily, he picked his phone up from the black padded bench.

“Shit,” he sighed, “She asked me to call her. I’ll let you guys know if I’ll be back, but I’m not sure.”

“Hope she’s alright.” Jungkook said.

Namjoon concurred, “Do what you have to do.”

Jimin and Namjoon made eye contact before he began to jog out of the gym. He retrieved his keys from his pocket as he hurried out of the building and into the private covered garage. His footsteps echoed in the spacious concrete structure as he came upon his vehicle.

While climbing into the driver’s seat, he called you.

The ignition started as he waited over the course of several rings to hear your voice.

“Hey,” you greeted him, “Slight mishap.”

It was a relief that you sounded fairly normal through the phone. Even still, your partner needed to hear the story from you.

“I know,” he said, his phone connecting to his car so he could speak with you as he drove, “Namjoon told me. And Chaeyoung told him.”

“So Sanghee told Chae,” you sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t actually faint, though. I just sort of…came close.”

He drove out of the garage and turned onto the street, “I’m making my way home. You there?”

“Y-Yes but Jimin please don’t leave work. It’s really nothing.”

“I’ll see you in a little bit.”

Before long, he came home to you. He found you in the living room, laying on the couch with a tall glass of water on the coffee table. You had changed from your work clothes to loungewear, embracing getting comfortable in the middle of the day.

You were in a position for sleep, but your eyes were sullen and awake. Jimin closed the door and you cringed, feeling like an utter inconvenience.

His voice sounded like he was in a hurry as he strided into the living room, “Hey. Hey baby.”

He sat on the edge of the sofa, “Are you okay? Tell me what happened.”

You broke into a sad smile as you propped yourself up into more of a sitting posture, “I was trying to explain that I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine, Jimin. You really didn’t need to fly all the way home.”

“Of course I did,” he batted that ludicrous statement away, “Top priority.”

His hand reached over to cup your left cheek and you looked down, taking hold of his wrist, “I appreciate it, but all that happened was that I stood up too quickly and got dizzy. That’s all.”

He chuckled to keep the mood up, but he found this anything but funny, “I’m glad you were sent home. A brief dizzy spell is okay and probably normal, but in your case it’s a bigger deal, baby. You don’t want me to be concerned, but you know I’m right. We need to watch this closely, hm?”

You brought your eyes back to his and nodded wordlessly.

Jimin gave you a half grin, “And knowing you, I’d be willing to bet that this isn’t the first dizzy spell you’ve had recently.”

Subconsciously, your lips pursed together. It was as though you were tucking them in so they wouldn’t spill the truth.

It was the all the response he needed.

He scooted closer to you and sighed, removing his warm, veiny hand from your face and placing it on your blooming tummy, “You’re not hard to figure out. What other instances have there been?”

You closed your eyes as you admitted, “Yesterday after dinner. Same thing, I stood up and it just hit me.”

His eyes were anxious, maybe even slightly hurt, “I need to know about these things, Y/N. It’s my job to make sure you’re both safe and healthy, but I can’t do that if you don’t let me know. This…It worries me. And it equally disturbs me that you aren’t telling me about it.”

You let it out, “I know. I-I’m sorry. God, I hate it when you’re right.”

Jimin’s low chuckle rang out as he leaned forward, kissing your lips softly. Then he withdrew a few inches from your face.

“Oh my love...” his voice trailed off, “I thought you knew that you’re my life. That I will always, always put you first.”

Your tone was meek, “I do.”

He kissed the tip of your nose, “You don’t, if you think you’re burdening me.”

You felt totally deflated. He knew your soul, your entire being. There was no concealing anything from this man.

Half of you wanted to call him a jerk for stripping you bare of any excuses, while the other half wanted to melt into his arms for being such a blessing in your life.

Your eyes came to glisten with fresh tears, but not enough for any to fall. Your lips twitched into a smile, “A burden? Me? Never.”

Another laugh broke from Jimin as he returned to an upright posture , “That’s right, sweetheart. Can I get you anything? Did you eat lunch?”

“Not yet,” you replied, “I was hoping to nap before I ate, but I’m kind of hungry now.”

“I’ll make you something. You just relax.”

He got up and proceeded off into the kitchen. You heard him opening and closing the cupboards, looking for a culmination of ingredients, humming a tune as he went about it,

“Avocado toast and some berries?” He called back to you, “Or do you need something bigger?”

“That should be good,” you approved, “Oh, and could you mash the lumps out of the avocado? Lately I can’t stand the chunky texture. And maybe a little more lime juice? Oh, and some onion? And salt?”

Jimin smirked as he sliced the green fruit open, then grabbing a spoon to take out the pit, “So I’m making guacamole and putting it on bread. Got it.”

You laughed in return, “If you don’t mind.”

You spent the next several minutes searching for something to watch on Netflix. When your doting boyfriend came back with a plate to set down on the coffee table, you sat up more to make room for him.

“Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad to make my girlfriend and baby some nutritious food.”

You didn’t hesitate to bite into the toast smeared with a creamy green spread, “Actually, Sanghee told me she had high blood pressure when she was pregnant. She said avocados help lower it.”

“Even better.” he pushed your hair behind your ear so he could see your satiated expression.

You hummed with contentment as you swallowed, “And she also said there’s a medication for it. Doctor Yoon didn’t mention that to us.”

Jimin sat back and stretched his arms high, preparing to fully settle in with you, “That’s good. Maybe we’ll give her a call then, ask about it. At the very least, your OBGYN should know about these spells.”

“I will later.”

“Promise?”

You rolled your eyes in a genial manner, “I prom- Oh!”

The hand that wasn’t holding your toast flew to your belly. With a mouthful of food, you had to try to keep it all in, “Hi, little baby.”

Jimin beamed, scrambling to sit back up, “Is she kicking??”

You giggled and nodded as you caught the slip of the tongue. He really did seem to know in his heart that this precious new life was a daughter.

“Where? I want to feel.”

“Here,” you guided his hand to the spot where you could feel the flutters on the inside, “But you won’t feel it from the outside. I couldn’t.”

He pouted briefly before kissing the spot, “That’s okay. You just keep getting stronger in there, then Daddy can feel you cause a ruckus.”

With a giggle, you popped a few berries into your mouth, “I’m sure it will happen soon enough.”

Jimin reached across your lap to pick a blueberry off your plate. He put it on his thumb and flicked it up, craning his head back to catch it in his mouth before leaning back to his original spot.

His focus turned to the TV screen, “So what are we watching?”

You gave him your confused gaze, “Um, don’t you need to go back to work?”

“I can miss one dance practice,” he assured you, “And it’s been a while since I’ve had a day off. Don’t you want to sit here all day and be unproductive with me?”

You laughed, “I suppose I do. Though we could actually do something we’ve been meaning to do and start talking about what we want to name this munchkin.”

He mulled it over for a moment, unable to prevent his tight, half smirk from forming, “Hm…we could…Alright, why not? Do you have a girl or boy name you’ve always loved?”

As you finished your toast, you shrugged, “I have plenty of names I like, but for some reason none of them feel good enough now. Here, let’s look at the book Chaeyoung gave me. It should be on the side table next to you.”

“Ah,” he murmured as he stretched his arm behind him, “Got it. Okay, let’s see…Are we doing boy names or girl names first?”

*3 weeks later*

It took what seemed like forever to get everyone's schedules to align, but the group was finally getting together with all of the girlfriends. Originally, the plan was to go to Jin's place, but the guys were itching to see what your apartment looked like after the move.

You were in the middle of doing your makeup at your vanity, sitting on a comfy cream-colored pouf. Your guests would be arriving in a little over an hour, so time was of the essence.

Jimin entered the bedroom after prepping everything for dinner, taking off his shirt so he could shower fast.

“Everything’s chopped up and ready to go,” he said, “Kimchi is in the fridge too.”

“Got it, thank you.” you replied as you finished swiping mascara on your lashes, twisting the cap back on the tube.

He came over to peck you on the top of your head without a second thought, making you smile. When he turned around, he stripped the rest of his clothes. You watched his reflection in your vanity. The lighting in the room was perfect to show the contours of his body, all the parts where his frame would curve and then cave with muscle tone.

His natural dark hair was back, and it was getting long. It swept along the back of his neck, right above the crescent part of his moon phases tattoo.

He had gradually gotten leaner from all the stress. Nothing too concerning, since he was still eating and exercising a healthy amount, but it was noticeable to you. His jawline became sharper, and that was always a key tell when he was losing weight.

“I’m glad we’re doing this.” you said.

Surprising yourself, you weren't the slightest bit nervous. It was long overdue, and you could finally speak to women who were going through the same thing as you - dating a member of BTS in secret.

He glanced back at you, “So am I. I want you to be close to them. They're family."

"I completely agree..." you saw the perfect opportunity to bring up a still ongoing topic, "Which makes me wonder, where are you with Namjoon lately? I haven't seen him since the hotel in LA."

Jimin put his dirty clothes in the hamper and mumbled, "It's better."

"That's it? Just 'better'?"

He let out an irritated sigh, "Yeah. We haven't clashed in any way. And he's...actually sort of, well, been kind recently."

You smirked, "Those words taste like vinegar coming out of your mouth or something?"

He disappeared into the bathroom, "Yes, they do."

You closed your eyes and let out a breath, calling after him, "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset. But I'm relieved that you're starting to see what I meant that night when he left the hotel room. He was only ever trying to be a good friend to you, Jimin. And I think he's realizing that he was wrong. You should make amends."

You heard a tiff from him, “I’m not quite ready for that. Even though our relationship hasn’t been as rocky, he never formally apologized.”

“Must he come on bended knee to be forgiven?”

The shower turned on, making it more difficult to hear him, but what you thought you heard was, “Yeah. He does. He came after you and tried to label you a terrible person. He insulted me too, telling me that I think with my dick. He went out of his way time and time again to separate us by trying to make me question my love for you. It’s not something I’m just going to write off. He needs to apologize for all of it.”

“And would you forgive him if he did?”

There was no response - only water droplets pattering on the shower floor.

“…Jimin?” your tone was hesitant now.

He huffed, “Yeah?”

“Remember when we were talking about all the bitterness aimed at Seoyeon? How it would only hurt you to let your anger linger?”

You heard an ironic chuckle echo from the bathroom, “Are you going to tell me to forgive her too?”

“No,” you said, “I am asking you to forgive your brother. Don’t let this grudge last. It will only cause you pain in the end. And besides, unlike Seoyeon, Namjoon is a good person at his core. You know that. And deep down, I think you know he only wanted to protect you. You just said it yourself - you're family."

Once more, you didn't get a response. This time, you decided to drop it. There were things to be done to finish preparing for dinner.

About an hour later, Yoongi and Taehyung were the first to arrive. Jimin, in fresh clothes and a seemingly improved mood, let them in as you set the table for a party of eleven.

From the other room, you heard them enter and gasp.

"Damn," Taehyung laughed boisterously, "Color? In Jimin's apartment? This is insane."

"Yeah, for once it doesn't feel all cold and empty." Yoongi remarked with his famous monotone, "Guess you need to keep Y/N around."

You smiled with pride as you arranged the bowls and plates. The guys rounded the corner into the dining room and you greeted them warmly, “Hey guys!”

“Good to see you,” Taehyung smiled, “We love how you brightened up the place.”

You chuckled, “I was eavesdropping. Thanks.”

Jimin put his hands up in puzzlement, “Apparently I lived in a dungeon before you moved in.”

“Can we do anything to help?” asked Yoongi.

"No, but thank you," you said, "Go get comfortable. Have a drink, chat. I'm going to start cooking in a bit."

Your boyfriend put his arm around your waist and pointed to the bar area, at the other end of the dining room, "There's wine, whiskey, soju, beer, take whatever you want."

The two made their way over to the bar to fix themselves a drink. You looked at Jimin with confused eyes and leaned to the side to whisper to him, "Shouldn't you pour their drinks? You're hosting."

"They don't require the etiquette." he smirked down at you.

Then his hand traveled down to your ass. He squeezed it gently, making your posture straighten.

"But I required a moment to tell you how gorgeous you look," his raspy mutter filled your eardrums, "I really can't get enough of these new clothes, showing off my baby so well."

The man had balls, daring to flirt with you when you had so much else to do. You knew that snake-like, charming tone like no other. Well, if he wanted to toy with you tonight, then you'd play along.

You cocked a brow, "So complimentary, and you haven't even seen the full collection."

He hummed in your ear, "What else did you buy? Something just for me, sweetheart?"

Your cheeks flushed and you didn't want him to see it, so you removed yourself from him and strolled into the kitchen with nonchalance, "Bold of you to assume such a thing."

Jimin bit the inside of his cheek as he watched you leave his side. He loved how you could simply decide to throw his game right back in his face. This was the type of fun the two of you always had, from the very beginning. The push and pull, with a solid foundation underneath it.

Soon, everyone else trickled in. You were introduced to Hana, Yunhee, and Aejun. They were Namjoon’s, Hoseok’s, and Jin’s girlfriends respectively. You’d seen them around a few times, but weren’t supposed to know who they were, so you were never introduced.

All three were as kind as could be. Within moments of their arrival, they were helping you in the kitchen, giving the members their “guy time”.

Yunhee, lanky with hair dyed a strawberry blonde, was stirring the rice for you, “So tell us how it’s been, Y/N. I mean, we’ve all heard about you for a while now.”

You laughed it off - it was a question that warranted a thousand answers.

"Oh, I'm okay. A lot of it has been hard, but as far as we know we have a healthy baby on the way and we're excited."

"You look adorable!" gushed Aejun, a short, slightly curvier woman with these large, doe-like eyes, "How many weeks?"

"Almost twenty-four," you said while filling up a water pitcher for the table, "It's flying by, even though we've had some difficulty. Bumps in the road."

Hana's voice was gentler and compassionate. Her cadence reflected that of her boyfriend, "Look, we can all be friends. And we're all women here. You can be honest."

You smiled somewhat bashfully, and then it faded, "Alright, it's been more than bumps in the road. I've been so stressed lately that it's manifested into high blood pressure. I had to get on medication for it, which has been helping with the light-headed spells, but not the stress and I still...I just wish this could all feel more normal."

Yunhee gave you a sullen, sympathetic look, "We know exactly what you mean. It sucks, having to love someone and hide it all the time. It's a price all four of us pay to be with them."

Hana gave her some glasses to take over and put at each place setting. She left the kitchen momentarily.

The three women knew about the things you weren't sharing. They heard it from their boyfriends, who heard it from Jimin at one point or another. It was a mutual decision not to press you, especially during their first real encounter with you.

Aejun smirked, "Hey, we each get our return on investment, don't we?"

Hana's reaction of hitting her shoulder with a giggle confirmed that it was intended as a dirty joke. You laughed too.

Yunhee returned from the dining room, "Anything else I can take. Y/N?"

"No, you're good. Thanks so much for helping, guys."

"Of course!" Hana batted your praise away.

Yunhee added, "Also, before I forget, you should join us for our little dinner date. Once a week, we all grab dinner somewhere in the city just to hang out, let off steam."

"Oh yes, you should definitely come along," Aejun nodded, "It's been great for us to be around people who understand, you know? You're in this little circle now, so it's essentially mandatory."

Her humor was dry, like Jin's.

You giggled, "I'd love to."

In the other room, the guys could hear your muffled laughter. Jimin kept glancing back in the direction of the kitchen with a grin, relieved that you seemed to be hitting it off. To hear your beautiful giggle ring out with other women was like a gift to him. Perhaps new friendships could help ease this entire situation for you.

“Guess they’re best friends now.” Hoseok chuckled before nursing from the rocks glass in his hand.

“That’s no bad thing,” your boyfriend sighed happily, letting his head rest fully on the back of the couch, “This has been a missing piece for Y/N since we got together.”

“Imagine ten years into the future,” Jim said, “We all have wives and kids running around, and we do things like this where we get together. The women cook the dinner and we do the dishes after, while our kids play hide and seek or something.”

“Jesus, Jin,” Yoongi looked somewhat terrified, “Getting ahead of ourselves there, aren’t we? Half of us aren’t even seeing anyone.”

“What? I like the sentiment.” he defended the picture.”

Jimin’s soft grin appeared as he envisioned the same thing, moving his hand in a small circle to swirl the drink in his glass, “No, I like it too.”

Taehyung was sitting next to him and gave him a nudge, glancing to the side to make sure none of the ladies heard him. He lowered his volume, “And speaking of wives, do we hear wedding bells for you and Y/N anytime soon?”

He wasn’t expecting to be asked that question, but it was a natural one to ask. Not that he was bothered by it.

With a cheeky grin, Jimin clinked their glasses together.

He closed the door behind them on their way out. When it was just the two of you again, you both looked at one another and laughed a little.

You put your hands on your cheeks, “Oh my gosh, my face aches from smiling so much.”

“Mine too,” he said, “Sorry about the drinking at the end. I hope you didn’t feel left out.”

You started back into the living room, “Not at all. I think you guys are hilarious when you drink.”

He followed you, “We will have to do that again. I think you’ll have Jungkook crawling back for your bulgogi alone.”

You smirked, bending over the coffee table to pick up stray glasses, “I will cook for them anytime.”

“Must we do more dishes?” Jimin pouted.

You could decipher by his inflection that he was feeling a little buzzed.

“Yes,” you laughed, handing him a few, “Otherwise we will have to do them in the morning, and I hate doing that.”

You each had four glasses to carry into the kitchen. You put them all next to the sink and began to hand wash them. They could have been put in the dishwasher, but you were more particular with glassware. You liked to make sure they came out looking perfectly clean and shiny.

At this stage in gestation, you were unable to lean over the sink like you used to. Your belly met the edge of the counter, so you needed to perform the task with your arms stretched further.

Jimin rested his chin on your shoulder, “You don’t look comfortable doing that.”

“Then you take my place.” you laughed, turning your head his way.

He kissed your cheek, “I’d rather not.”

Then his lips found the sensitive bit of skin, where the corner of your jaw met your neck. You felt an eager pit form in your stomach and tilted your head slightly, giving him just a tiny bit more access.

“And what would you rather do?”

“I’d rather see the rest of the collection.”

You giggled, “You’re still hung up on that from earlier?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re assuming it’s lingerie?”

“I’m not assuming,” his voice was like honey, “I know it is. Let me see what you picked out for me, baby. Dishes can wait.”

He brought his pelvis further into you, so you could feel him stiffening. He kept kissing your neck, his hands wrapping around your growing middle.

“You wanna know what I read the other day?” he asked with a rasp, “A great way to reduce stress is to orgasm.”

You finally set the glass down at the bottom of the sink, “You’re really trying everything to get into my pants, aren’t you?”

He chuckled in the manner he knew would do you in, “Keep acting like you aren’t desperate to take a load of my cum. Like you don’t want me to make you squirm.”

You pushed the envelope even further, your body heating up, “You’re just tipsy and horny.”

Jimin took control of your hips, moving them side to side against his bulging crotch, “I’m offering you a reward, sweetheart.”

“A reward?”

“For being the perfect hostess tonight. For making me a baby. For being the love of my life.”

The love of his life.

He’d never called you that before. Maybe he was just under the influence, but it had you overflowing with love and desire.

“Well then,” you turned around with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I guess I should go get changed.”

He laughed, “I knew it was lingerie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you kissed him deeply, “You got me all figured out.”

He ended up sitting on the bed, waiting for you to appear from the bathroom in whatever racy little thing you had prepared.

The door opened slowly, revealing you in a cherry red babydoll. The whole thing was lace with a matching thong underneath. The fabric split like a curtain around your belly.

Jimin looked like he wanted to devour you, eyes dark with ardor, pupils blown out.

Your voice was soft and sultry, “Do you like it?”

“Come sit,” he leaned back, “Let me see you up close.”

You padded over to him and lifted one leg after the other, straddling him. Your bump grazed against his torso. Jimin let out a hum that sounded more like a growl as he caressed your thighs.

"Look at that," he whispered, playing with the delicate lace between his fingers as he kissed your breasts, "All dressed up for me. All mine,"

He was bulging, but not fully hard yet. You reinforced yourself by putting your hands on his knees, slowly gliding your hips forward, back, and forward again. You wanted to make him weak.

"Yeah baby," Jimin cupped your ass and squeezed, "Get my cock nice and hard."

You released a soft moan, the friction exciting your bud. The sound of your pleasure accomplished your goal.

“You get to choose how you get fucked tonight.” he smirked, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear so he could press his lips to yours.

You giggled into the kiss, “Is that my reward?”

“One of them,” he said, “You get three.”

“What are the other two?”

“Getting to cum, and receiving mine.”

You moaned into another passionate kiss before whispering exactly what you wanted.

It wasn’t what he was expecting to hear, but it delighted him nonetheless. Before going any further, his eyes softened, taking him out of the blinding lust for a moment, “Are you sure that won’t be too much for you?”

You resumed grinding your hips back and forth against his member, “I couldn’t be more sure…Daddy.”

And he was back, eyes filled with fervor. He spanked you, played with your ass cheeks in his hands, “You want to ride Daddy’s cock, baby? Show Daddy what you can do.”

You smirked as you got off his lap for a moment, giving him time to remove his bottoms. He scooted over to the head of the bed, laying flat on his back. He may have had the dominant nickname, but you were going to make him desperate one way or another.

You crawled back onto the bed seductively, “Should I get naked too, Daddy?”

“No, let me marvel at you in this for a while longer,” he said, cock straight in the air with precum leaking from the reddened tip, “I fucking love how it shows off your belly.”

His pregnancy kink was going to be the death of him. You chose to exploit that.

“Yeah, Daddy?” you swung your leg back over his frame, sitting on his cock but not granting him access just yet, “How does it look this way?”

He let out an exasperated, charged breath, hands on either side of your bump, “You look divine, sweetheart. So beautiful for me, making my child.”

You moved your hips on him again, letting him feel the magnitude of your wetness. It swayed the power back to him.

“Look at you, dripping all over Daddy’s cock.”

You pushed the g-string to the side. In one go, you lifted your hips, positioned him, and sat fully back down. He filled you to the hilt, both of you letting out moans.

You began to bounce up and down the shaft, setting a steady rhythm. Even better, your clit rubbed against his base each time you went down, delivering the perfect amount of pressure.

He looked like a dream beneath you, chin tilted up towards the ceiling with his plump lips parted, releasing low grunts. His brows were scrunched down as he searched to find the resolve not to ram up into you. His veiny hands were gripping your ass so hard you thought you might bruise.

Jimin’s siren eyes bore the sight of you from an angle so deliciously erotic - the woman he loved, round with his child, riding his cock. Your breasts bobbing up and down.

“Shit,” he groaned, “So fucking hot, baby. Tell me how it feels.”

“S-So good, Daddy,” you mewled, “I wanna go faster.”

“You can go faster, sweetheart,” he gave your ass a slap, “Make yourself feel good. Show Daddy how hard you can cum.”

As you picked up your pace, Jimin devoted his fingers to the service of your femininity, rubbing you.

You whined and put one hand on his chest. Knowing he’d go crazy for it, you dug your nails in and scratched down his sternum. He threw his head back and inhaled a hiss.

“Ah, fuck!”

You wore a smirk amid the building pleasure, “Sorry, did that hurt?”

“Play nice, baby. Or I’ll bend you over and fuck your brains ou- Shit!”

Your pace sped up even more, your cunt enveloping him repeatedly. His tip was kissing your cervix.

“What were you saying, Daddy?” you panted.

Jimin gritted his teeth, “You’re fucking enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Mhm,” you mewled, “I’m enjoying my reward.”

He unleashed a frustrated groan, “Good, because it’s the last time I’m giving you one.”

You half laughed, half moaned. He hadn’t stopped rubbing your clit, delivering wave after wave, coating his dick in more of your arousal. The sound produced was lewd.

“Jimin…”

He knew you were getting close, “Come on, baby. Let me see you make a mess all over my cock.”

“N-No,” you whimpered, “I don’t want to cum yet.”

He smirked, and removed his hand from your clit, “As you wish.”

Without warning, he grabbed your wrists and pulled you forward, freeing his hips to thrust up into you. He bucked up into your confines with a battering speed.

You lost any trace of superiority. All dominance fell to him in an instant. Now you were in purgatory, feeling a euphoric sensation without that bundle in your stomach.

“My turn, baby," he taunted, "Just stay still like a good girl and take it. Fuck. Such a tight little cunt. Makes me wanna fill you with more of my babies."

The thought had you moaning in a way that made you grateful the walls were completely soundproof. He was rutting into you from below, his trained, flexible dancer hips being put to good use. With every thrust, your body was shuffled forward, your lace-covered breasts dangling over his face.

"You're such a perfect mother, sweetheart. Already making milk to feed our baby. Shit, I'm getting close."

You took advantage of this short moment of weakness to sit upright, back to your original position. Jimin tried to keep pounding into you out of his own volition, but it was to no avail. The shift made it impossible to move the way he wanted to.

He huffed, "Baby, move. Please.”

Amidst your panting, a soft grin grew on your face, "I always get to cum first, though.”

“Fuck,” he breathed in sexual frustration and rapture, “You want my fingers again? Can you handle Daddy’s fingers this time?”

You nodded eagerly, “I can handle it.”

Jimin flashed you an arrogant grin after biting the inside of his cheek, “You want to cum, then start riding me again, baby.”

“Fine, but you can’t move your hips this time,” your fingertips gently traced the red scratch marks on his chest, “You have to leave it all to me.”

He opened his mouth to say something smart - you could tell by what his eyes carried. To shut him up, you bounced on him once, making him moan loudly.

Seeking revenge, he began to rub your clit again, coating his fingers in a slick of your juices and his precum. Your head dipped back as he brought you closer to the stars, resuming a steady pace on his cock.

“Act tough all you want, baby,” he grunted, “You’ll always melt under my touch like this. Don’t ever forget who you belong to.”

The pleasure was too great for your pride to care. You mewled out for him, “Faster!”

The circles on your bud became rapid. You moaned every time you sank back down on his member, chasing your orgasm until you snapped a few seconds later.

You clenched and spasmed around him, halting your movements as you were jolted with a love-made current. Jimin let you ride it out, enthralled by the sight of you experiencing the height.

When you came down, you opened your eyes and put one hand on his chest, the other back on his thigh. Pushing your afterglow aside for now, you wanted to make him come undone like it was the first time.

Stabilizing yourself, you rode him as hard as you could. Jimin didn’t expect it. Your orgasms usually took so much energy from you. You bounced mercilessly.

His eyes drained of any cheekiness. He was fully under your control one last time, entranced by the way his cock was repeatedly disappearing into your warmth. He was totally at your whim, hands cupping your ass and feeling it jiggle slightly with every contact between your cunt and his base.

He moaned in a way you rarely heard.

“Y/N!”

Not yet satisfied, you pushed the envelope even further, “Are you gonna give me a nice big load, Daddy?”

“Yeah,” his cheeks were tinged pink at this point, “Gonna spill my seed into you, baby. Fuck, keep going.”

Thighs starting to exhaust themselves, you kept it up.

“Right there, baby…Right there…Fuck, keep doing that. I’m cumming.”

His semen flooded into you, a throaty groan escaping his lips. His neck craned back into the pillow as his hips and legs jerked, an uncontrollable mechanism as his balls emptied.

“God, baby….”

As both of you labored to breathe, gravity caused his white material to begin leaking out of you almost immediately, coating both of you in it.

You smiled through your panting, relaxing, “Thank you for my reward.”

A low chuckle rumbled through him, “You’re something else. Fuck, I’m so tired now.”

“Me too,” you giggled, “Though I think I might be stuck here.”

You were only half kidding. It took more effort than you were used to in order to hoist yourself off him. Your hips were aching, but the walk to the bathroom helped them readjust.

Your spent boyfriend followed you, hair matted and messed up on the back of his head.

His forearm was pressed against the door frame and he leaned on it, watching you tidy yourself up, “Can you wear that again soon?”

“I can…” you ran a brush through your hair, “If you’d rather not see the other things I bought.”

Jimin raised a brow as he made the few paces over to you, “Oh, there’s more?”

His lips started attacking your collarbone, forcing a squeal from you.

When both of you had cleaned up, you crawled into bed. As was the norm for him, especially now, he rolled over to spoon you. He said it helped him sleep, knowing his love and his child were safe in his arms.

“Goodnight.” you yawned.

“Night,” he lazily kissed your hair, “I love you. So so much.”

“I love you too, Jimin.”

*The next day*

He was awake at seven in the morning, stirred out of his sleep by the continuous buzzing on his phone.

Eyes hardly able to open, he reached to his nightstand and tapped the screen, revealing a steady stream of new messages popping up.

It was his group chat with the members, blowing up in a panic. At first, none of the texts made sense:

“How could she do this?”

“This is going to be a nightmare.”

“Jimin, are you okay?”

“Let us know what we can do for you guys.”

He scrolled up to the beginning of the conversation, which made his heart stop. It was a link to an article, with a thumbnail that pierced his soul with a burning fury.

This couldn’t be happening.

His head felt fuzzy, vision not yet fully adjusted. His nerves skyrocketed as he left the bed, still being mindful not to wake you. Once he left the bedroom, he allowed his body to move more according to his emotions - frantically.

He was moving about the living room and dining room, pacing yet feeling frozen.

Then he had an incoming call. Oddly, the contact name didn’t perturb him. In a crisis, this was the name he trusted, even after everything that had happened between them.

“Namjoon,” he answered, voice hoarse and panicked, “What the fuck is that? Is it real?”

“Did you click on the link?”

“No,” he replied, running a nervous hand through his hair, “I-I don’t think I want to. Just tell me if that’s a real article.”

The other end was silent for a moment. He could hear Namjoon take a deep breath, “It’s real. I’m so sorry.”

Jimin felt like he could have died. He wanted to rip up the flooring and crawl underneath it, encasing him from the world.

“Holy shit…” he felt detached from everything, “Fuck, what do we do? What do I do? Y/N can't see this."

"She's going to," he said with all the sympathy in the world, "You can't keep it from her."

"No, no...I...I don't understand. I don't- fuck! Why?! Who did this?! Was it her?!"

"No one knows," Namjoon kept his tone even, "But we will figure it out, alright?"

His tongue dripped poison, "I swear to fucking God, if she's behind this, I'll-"

"Jimin?..." your voice was quiet as you emerged from the bedroom. He'd woken you up, having not fully shut the door when he left your side moments prior. You were tying your white fluffy robe around your center, eyes squinting slightly.

He looked at you like a deer in headlights, "I'll call you back, hyung."

He hung up, tossing his phone onto the couch.

You were becoming more alarmed by the second, watching your boyfriend self-soothe gliding his hands over his face and into his hair.

"What's going on?"

"Come sit," he said, "We have a situation."

Your gut twisted as you slowly went to sit down beside him. Jimin took your hands, angling his body to face you directly. He brought your cold hands up to his lips, kissing them.

"I need you to know that I love you," his morning voice was unstable, "I love you a-and we will be okay. We can get through anything together."

You turned your head a little, concerned eyes never leaving his, "You're scaring me..."

He held your hands firmly and set them on his lap, "There's an article. A big one, from a big publication. About the baby...but they think it's me and Seoyeon. They think I'm her baby's father."

[skywalkr-nberrie]

I think it’s so under appreciated how much Anakin admired Padmé and looked up to her while also being madly in love with her. She wasn’t just the woman he loved, she was many things in one. She was also an inspiration for him, and Anakin had the utmost respect, love, adoration, and admiration for her. So I wanted to bring this into light.

Let’s begin.

Starting off in Secrets of The Jedi where Anakin states how he’s proud of Padmé’s reputation that she’s built for herself as a well known and outspoken Senator.

The way he lists of all here in Clone Wars: Wild Space that she had many aspects to her and he absolutely adores and loves all of them. Again his pride for her seeping through in this passage.

If anyone knew better how much difference Padmé makes everyday with her influence and position, it was Anakin. He always believed in her and he knows the Republic needs her.

Anakin hyping his girl, stating the facts that she’s no dolt and he rightfully acknowledges her intelligence and excellence 💯 he knows his wife is a queen.

“you are anything but weak-minded.” 😭

Literally this passage of Brotherhood where Anakin admits he sees Padmé as a guide in his life in her own way. The amount of respect and high regards he must see her in to view her as something so special 🥹 he admires her morality and determination to do her duty, that he feels inspired by it.

Which brings me to my favourite page in “A Jedi’s Journal” where Anakin sketches a picture of a feisty Padmé and writes about how he doesn’t want to look like a failure in her eyes. Her opinion of him matters to most to him.

One of my fave Vader comics (Vader and the lost command) where Vader dreams up an AU where Padmé lives and he defeats Palpatine, and the clear vision of seeing Padmé as becoming the Chancellor because he always saw her as the only person fit to rule over the galaxy. And in this particular page, we see Padmé doubting herself and Anakin reassuring her that she’d never make the wrong decisions, that she was “born for this role”, that there couldn’t be anyone better for the job. A testament to how much faith he has in her and her capabilities even as Vader ♥️

Moving onto the next page from the same comic, we see how Padmé is referred to as the “the galaxy’s true guardian of peace and freedom”, and reminder that this is still Vader’s vision, and that means it’s truly something Anakin/Vader thinks of Padmé (despite that it is in fact true.) as I mentioned, he always sees her in the highest regards.

Vader even dreams of their kid “Jinn” making note of how with Padmé in power, the use of the Jedi will become “obsolete” and Anakin himself replies “we can only hope.” It’s like he sees Padmé as the true hero and not himself, the ‘Chosen One’ and ‘The Hero With No Fear.’ or the Jedi. 🥹

Then it ends with Anakin stepping up to Padmé and tells her how everyone adores her, because that’s exactly the kind of respect and love Padmé deserves, he knows it, and he envisions it so clearly. Cause that’s how things SHOULD be.

Padmé is the reason why Anakin is the man he is, she’s responsible for making him into the hero he’s become and Anakin really said it himself in Clone Wars: Wild Space pretty clearly without hesitation:

“The point is that without you, I’m nothing. Without you, Anakin Skywalker doesn’t exist.”

[steddiehyperfixation]

holding out for a hero

@steddiebingo prompts: superhero au + fly | 1.8k words | rated T

Eddie doesn't believe in superheroes. He may live most of his life in fantasy, playing fantasy games and reading fantasy books, but contrary to popular belief, he does still know the difference between reality and fiction. And some superhuman wonderboy flying through the streets of small town Indiana sniffing out crimes to stop is definitely fiction, no matter what the local news stations have been saying lately. 

It's all just some angle, some sort of propaganda. “Something to make the ne’er-do-wells scared and the do-gooders feel safer,” as he'd put it in his lunchtime rant earlier this afternoon, stomping atop the high school cafeteria tables and laughing at everyone who jeered at him. He was being dramatic and theatrical, but the point still stands that these stories of a superhero in Hawkins are utter bullshit. Especially since the only evidence the news has been able to cough up on the contrary is a couple of fantastical eyewitness accounts and one singular blurry, grainy, heavily shadowed photo of a random guy jumping over a fence. 

Eddie believes in what he can see, and if there really is a superhero running around Hawkins, he’s fairly fucking certain he would’ve seen it by now. He commits crimes on the daily and no one’s ever stopped him. No masked vigilante has ever interrupted a drug deal. No wonderboy has ever busted him for petty theft. They're small crimes, sure, but it's not like there's too many others doing too much worse around here. To that end, no one’s ever saved him either, when a deal goes south or a bully gets physical, but that’s a weaker argument. Eddie knows he’s not the kind of person most people would care to save.

He certainly doesn't expect to be saved now as he finds himself at a meeting that’s quickly shaping up to be more of an ambush. It was already shady to start with, the details of the deal set up through anonymous notes left in his locker that led him here to wait outside of an abandoned building in the middle of the night, but then the guy marches up with three extra goons behind him, guns on their belts, and it’s only getting shadier. Eddie straightens up from the wall he’d been leaning on, every muscle in his body tensing warily. 

The guy in front gives him a derisive once over. “So you’re Al Munson’s kid, huh?” he sneers, and that’s when Eddie knows he’s really in trouble. 

“Shit.” Eddie raises his hands and starts backing away. “Man, whatever beef you got with Al, it’s got nothing to do with me, alright? I don’t want any trouble.” 

“Right…” The main thug’s lip curls up sarcastically as he advances. His goons advance with him, and as they step out of the shadows Eddie realizes that while two of the goons are respectably big and scary, the other one is just some fucking kid, no more than a few years younger than him. In fact, he’s pretty damn sure he’s passed him in the hallways at school before. That must’ve been who was leaving the notes. 

“Oh, eugh.” Eddie wrinkles his nose in distaste, his stupid mouth running off in reaction to his moral disgust before his brain has the sense to stop it, “Did you seriously rope your fucking kid into this shit? You know the more you get him involved the more it could just as easily end up being him in a situation like this instead of me.” 

He's answered, predictably, by Main Thug slamming a fist into his face. “Are you threatening my son?!”

“No!” Eddie yelps, cowering away as the pain blooms across his face from what is most likely going to become a black eye. “I’m just saying-”  

“Well, stop sayin’.” Main Thug swings again and Eddie tries to dodge out of the way, even throwing up his hands in an attempt to block, but the blow still lands and it stings like hell. His momentary disorientation from being punched again gives Main Thug even more of an advantage, which he uses to grab Eddie by the collar to keep him from moving. “Stop sayin’ and start listenin’. I’d hate to have to kill you before you can make up for what your daddy owes us.” 

“Okay!” Eddie raises his hands once more in surrender. “Okay. Take it easy.” 

Clearly, fighting his way out of this is not an option. These aren’t some high school bullies he can scare away with a single show of self defense and a well-timed weird face; these, with the exception of the random kid, are full grown men at least twice his size who are hellbent on achieving either Eddie’s death or his compliance, and they aren’t picky which. Surrounded and outnumbered, shutting up and staying still seems like his best bet for the moment. Although, he’s not too sure he wants to find out what exactly they want to make him do to pay off his douchebag dad’s debt either. 

He waits until Main Thug is satisfied enough with his surrender to let go of his shirt, and then, in a split-second impulse, Eddie turns and bolts. The half-second advantage of surprise allows him to slip through the circle of goons around him, but after that his luck dries up. His assailants recover too quickly, immediately swearing and chasing after him, and Eddie’s not fast enough to outrun them. He’s caught within moments, one of the big goons grabbing onto him and redirecting his momentum to throw him into a wall. 

“Ow, fuck!” Eddie’s shoulder slams into the wall first, then his back; and even his head gets a good thump against the brick too. The wind knocked out of him, all he can do is brace himself for another hit. But it never comes. 

Instead, the fucking Hero of Hawkins himself comes flying in out of nowhere to barrel down his attackers, very efficiently taking the heat off of Eddie as the thugs are now far more preoccupied with fighting off a goddamn superhero.

“What the fuck?” Eddie blinks the lingering blur of pain from his eyes, squinting to make sure he’s seeing things right. It’s dark and wonderboy’s wearing a mask, but Eddie would recognize that perfectly coiffed hair anywhere. “Steve Harrington?” 

Obviously caught off guard by being recognized, Wonderboy/Steve falters for one fatal second. His startled pause is tiny and brief, all things considered, but it gives the thugs just enough time to regain their footing and draw their weapons. 

“Shit.” Steve reacts in an instant. Within the blink of an eye, he dives towards Eddie, scoops him up bridal style, and launches into flight just before the first gunshot rings out. 

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie yelps, clinging onto Steve’s neck as they rocket into the sky. “Take me out to dinner first!” 

Steve, clearly, does not find this amusing. “We are literally being shot at,” he hisses. 

“Yeah, and that’s very scary, so I’m cracking jokes to cope,” Eddie retorts over the sound of his racing heartbeat and the wind in his ears. “Sue me, Harrington.” 

“I don’t know why you keep calling me that,” Steve lies, evasive gaze trained straight ahead as they stop flying up and start flying forward. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not-” 

“What, not Steve Harrington?” Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Suuuuure. You know, the mask is good and all, but if you really don’t want people to know who you are, you might want to consider wearing a hat or something too. You have very recognizable hair,” he informs him. “And moles,” he adds in an afterthought, continuing to study Steve’s face with the utmost attention. It’s a nice distraction, better than looking down or looking back. “And jawline…and eyes… So really you should probably just wear a whole paper bag over your head, actually,” Eddie decides. “But then I guess that would kill the whole dashing hero vibe you’ve got going, huh?” 

To his surprise, that's what succeeds in making Steve laugh. “Oh wow.” Steve finally looks at him, eyebrows raised in amusement. “You seem intimately familiar with this Harrington guy’s facial structure. Does he know how much you've been looking at him?” 

“What, no, I look a normal amount,” Eddie protests indignantly. “Those are all totally normal things to notice. Especially since they are, like I said, very recognizable features.” 

“Sure. Which is why no one else has ever accused me of having the same jawline as Steve Harrington.” 

“Are you seriously going to keep denying it?”

“I think you got hit just a little too hard tonight,” Steve says, simultaneously dismissing the validity of Eddie’s accusation and redirecting the conversation with such smooth and genuine concern Eddie almost misses the implied insult to his current mental capabilities. “Is your head okay?” 

Eddie chooses not to be offended in favor of responding with a smirk and quip, “I’ve yet to receive a bad review.” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he answers more soberly. “Just a little bruised, nothing serious. I’ll live.” 

“Good.” 

After a minute, Steve’s flying slows and he starts making a gradual descent. Eddie finally risks a glance down, watching the entrance to Forest Hills Trailer Park rise up to meet them. Steve's taken him home. 

“Aw man, is the ride over?” 

“Yeah. Go home, take it easy, get some ice on those bruises,” Steve says as he lands gently and sets Eddie back on his feet. “I’m gonna go make sure those guys won’t mess with you again.” 

In the moment where his feet have just settled steadily on the ground but his arms are still around Steve’s neck, Eddie can’t help but press a quick kiss to Steve’s cheek before letting go and swaying out of his space. “Thanks.” 

“Uh- yeah.” Steve stutters for a barely noticeable second before he recovers, nodding in a sort of farewell salute as he starts backing up to leave. “Stay out of trouble.” 

“And pass up the chance to be your damsel in distress again?” Eddie grins. “I don’t think so.” 

Steve huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Then I guess I’ll be seeing you around, Munson.” 

With that, he turns and launches into the air. Eddie watches as he arcs gracefully through the sky and fades into the distance. He stands there staring after Steve even after he’s lost sight of him, the far away silhouette of him disappearing into the night. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters, blinking and shaking himself out of this trance. It still hasn’t quite settled in yet that any of what happened tonight was actually real, but what has settled in is that he’s exhausted and his face hurts. Everything else he can process in the morning. 

He drags himself around and makes his way back to his trailer where he collapses onto his bed and passes out within minutes, sinking into dreams of flying.

[viradahlen]

Some scattered thoughts about Wesker's character and STARS

Your worst sin is that you've destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing" - Fyodor Dostoevsky.

Wesker grew up in an environment controlled by Umbrella. I like to think of it as an institute or orphanage. He must have felt lonely. He must have been alone.

This fact is not trivial because loneliness is thematic and yet ambivalent when it comes to Wesker's character. His relationship with other people and humanity as a whole is complex but fundamental to understanding his motivations. We know for a fact that he is not averse to being alone and even enjoys walking through the Arklay forest. He also talks a lot to himself. But is his relation to aloneness one-dimensional?

To understand the character, we must not forget that he was human, and so alterity interplay necessarily shaped his identity, even if he himself went so far as to cast away his humanity, deemed a weakness. This credo does not pertain only to Wesker. Alex Wesker, Dr. Marcus, Spencer, William Birkin, Sergei Vladimir... Umbrella's executives and higher-ups regard humanity as a dead end to be overcome with the help of science.

But unlike them, Wesker managed a small family team for almost 3 years. And unlike them, even after his rebirth, Wesker never really works alone.

I like to imagine how much inner conflict and cognitive dissonance the STARS era must have triggered. Can you really select people that you find highly capable, train with them, earn their respect and trust, and not care at all ?

Is it truly possible that he was but a cold monster, conditioned by Umbrella to destroy the world and embody the future of humanity ? An efficient tool that was taught how to identify valuable people and exploit their abilities ? Is Wesker just repeating with others what Spencer did with him ?

It’s an interpretation of the character. I find it a little too plain for my tastes. Wesker is a man of contradictions. He values freedom, is brilliant, and yet he is never able to think outside Umbrella's conceptual box. He values efficiency and yet seems unable to get rid of Chris and Jill. He obviously wants to be in control and seems wary and distrustful, which is probably a result of Umbrella's smothering grasp on him since childhood, and yet he trusts Ada, Krauser, Excella and other people to carry out his plans, increasing the risk of betrayal. Wesker is multifaceted, and so is his relationship with humanity.

Wesker's education is undoubtedly orchestrated by Umbrella/Spencer. Conceived and planned by Lord Spencer and his colleague Dr Wesker, Albert’s education was designed to make him an active defender of utilitarian philosophy, though devoid of its moral aspect. 

I believe the STARS, its inability to let go of the past, particularly Chris, reveals something else.

Even if "little piggies" sounds provocative and unflattering, and even if he evokes "a family reunion" in an ironic way, there is still something along the lines of possessiveness that manifests itself. When it comes to Chris, Wesker is the most ambivalent, helping him during the events of RE1, lamenting why he "cannot understand" his vision in RE5 and expressing his pride at every encounter.

The point is, Wesker almost never made a choice that wasn't designed by Umbrella in his life. Even his suicide and following rebirth, that he saw as a way out to escape Umbrella's shadow (he symbolically steps on his glasses branded with "property of Umbrella"), was overseen by Spencer. But he chose the STARS members.

And yet, when he was given full latitude to build up a team from scratch, he selected talented people, sure, though displaying an unconventional profile and a sense of honor and justice. Chris was kicked out of the USAF, Jill's father is a notorious thief (and herself is suspiciously good at picking locks), Kenneth is a chemist, Richard Aiken lost his sister and wanted to protect others at all cost... etc. Wesker's targeted people who were courageous, empathetic, and strong-willed. And yet, at this point, he didn't know what Umbrella's planned to do with them. He just did as he was told, and he chose them freely without Umbrella interfering.

He willingly chose to surround himself with people who absolutely did not share his beliefs. He did NOT choose meek people. He COULD have found competent AND cynical, less idealistic, less intelligent, policemen. But he chose them, introducing a risk factor as he was actually reporting to Umbrella. He chose people who have a strong moral compass, though they are less likely to be manipulated, are more difficult to lie to, and would rather not compromise. People with a sense of justice are often fierce and eager to defend their beliefs even though it's not in their best interest. They could have put Wesker in a delicate position, and, as a matter of fact, Chris, Forest, and Joseph were hated by Brian Irons.

So, why did he do that ?

If you listen attentively to Wesker's soliloquy in RE5, while he tries to pursue Chris as a clumsy octopus-like monster, I believe it makes sense if you consider he sees himself as a Messiah of sorts and a Creator.

Wesker hates humanity. But before his experience with STARS, humanity was actually comprising his colleagues within Umbrella. Umbrella taught him that people are worth less than nothing. (Though ironically, Umbrella's executives and accomplices, such as Brian Irons, probably reinforced Wesker's belief that humans were to be punished and corrected).

And so, when he loses his mind, he does not ramble, like a classic comic book villain, that humans are stupid or a lost cause. No. He laments that he sees "war and pestilence" whenever he goes. He wants peace. He relishes on being a Creator, a Demiurge. He wants to punish humanity AND start anew. That's precisely what Uroboros, a never ending circle of life and destruction, encompasses.

Wesker doesn't ONLY want to punish humanity. He wants humanity to do better, even though his method is totally irrational (as you could argue that he was the one bringing up War and Pestilence at its climax in their universe...).

He hasn't killed Chris, nor Jill, AND he EVEN confesses that he should have killed him YEARS ago. But why does he want his former pointman to understand ? Why is he OBSESSED about Chris "not understanding", if he isn't supposed to survive ?

I think that in Wesker's twisted mind, Chris represents what humanity should be at his best. Wesker fawned over his Tyrant, because it was his Creation. A new Human, created by him, the first step to his new world. But Tyrant is soulless. Chris, and Jill and every member of STARS he chose, trained and teamed up with, embodied values that he regards as worthy, honorable. They had a soul. And they were his.

There is something so enticingly complex about a character who implicitely confess that the world would be a better place if people were all as good and pure as the STARS members were, while he killed them all.

This man is hautingly complex your honor. He is Frankenstein's beast and a coward and a nerd that loves his action men and women.

But alas, he suffers from chronic backstabber disorder and delusions of grandeur.

Wesker, who blamed "loathsome humans" for turning the world into a cesspool, was actually one of these humans he so despise, partly because he never really abandoned Umbrella's mindset ("you're just another one of Umbrella's leftover" ie : a thing that belongs to them and doesn't think for himself which is TRUE).

And paradoxically, ironically, he betrayed and murdered in cold blood people that would have helped him make the world a better place.

[dapperprincess]

I was responding to the part where you said not all afab people are affected by abortion bans. Medical misogyny is a facet of sex-based oppression and of misogyny in general (and sex-based oppression is just a facet of misogyny)

I never said that non-passing trans women dont get catcalled. I said that everyone knows that passing trans women get catcalled. I said nothing about non-passing trans women or any misogyny/homophobia they may experience. I was only making a point about how even the strictest radfem admits that trans women who pass experience social misogyny and emphasizing that this facet of misogyny was not what I was referring to.

I am a perisex trans man(I dont believe that pcos an intersex condition, but I have seen others on here claiming it is, so draw your own conclusions on what you’d like to call me on that front, since I am medically diagnosed.) I have extreme sex dysmorphia/gender dysphoria that affects my everyday life and has ever since I can remember. I have been involved with the trans community for over a decade. Trans community infighting is what got me where I am.(along with learning about trans healthcare in my area and the lack of laws to protect trans people from exploitative doctors) I never said it was exclusively trans women who perpetuate this bigotry, I just said it was heavily perpetuated within the trans community. It’s a problem no matter who is doing it. I also know of and follow trans women who speak up about this double standard.

The last line about the people “actually” hurting the community being radfems is only true if you label everyone who harms the community a “radfem.”

I would argue that the majority of people arguing against the creation of these words to describe the specific oppression experienced by trans people who were born with the reproductive system generally associated with gestating pregnancies have never actually read any type of radical feminism literature and could not even name our basic beliefs. Everyone, even dave fucking chappelle, wants to call themselves a “terf” for their various beliefs that contradict the claims made by the trans community, but just like not being an atheist doesnt make someone a christian, not believing in trans identities doesnt make someone a radical feminist. I am aware of the small group of trans women who call themselves trf (trans radical feminists) but once again, without the ideological beliefs backing their claim, they are just trans people who have come up with a set of ideas and called it radical feminism. In much the same way that I couldnt call myself a christian while actively not believing in any sort of god(or at least wouldnt be taken seriously as a voice on christian beliefs) these people should not be taken seriously as representatives of radical feminist beliefs.

I hate the lack of choice when it comes to representation. Do you think I voted jk rowling as the top rep of radical feminism? Do you think I agree with everything she says just because she says it? No, she’s just able to speak the loudest, and thus gets the most attention. We have no way of ending her term if she says something we disagree with. We cannot vote her out of office. She makes the loudest sound, and so she is our de facto representative, whether we like it or not.

I think much the same thing has happened to the trans community, with its representation not being the most agreed upon or the most liked, but the loudest person to yell about it. This leads to people in positions of privilege yelling louder than the more oppressed people who actually know what theyre talking about. As a result, the trans community has pursued mostly goals that help the already privileged (as has the radfem community in the west) leading to a snowball of changes that less privileged trans people cant even share their opinion on without being dogpilled by the more privileged ones who benefit.

Trans people deserve human rights and basic respect.

crazy to me how some people think conversion torture/forced detransition is actually a privilege when it happens to trans men/mascs

[deckedcards]

ᝰ . . . BABY DON’T LIKE IT 나쁜 짓 !

──── ❝ try being harsher to me, I can feel it babe ╱ let's play all night, don't get tired ❞

⌗ PAIRING: fukami hiroto x male! reader

⌗ SUMMARY: more than just a birthday surprise happened tonight, thanks to hiroto and his never ending jealousy.

⌗ THIS WORK INCLUDES . . . lowercase intended, third person pov, semi-fluff, sexual content, risa doesn’t exist, established relationship, general stuff for hiroto, implied love parallel (that’s right i called it parallel fuck your incorrect use of love triangle), cringy shoujo inspired romance, mentions of age gap (reader is in their early 20s while hiroto is in his early 30s), making out, amab! reader, bttm! reader, semi-jealous sex, birthday sex, soft? sex, hickies, spanking, riding, cowgirl/boy position, creampie, unmentioned unprotected sex, no lube no protection no nothing just two lovers getting their 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 on, reader puts most of the work in, handjobs (r! receiving), light swearing, smut with plot, tried to fit in comedy the way the show does it but i don’t know if i did it right, my obsession with sakurada dôri, uh.. what else, possible grammar and wording mistakes ❨ not proof read ❩

⌗ EXTRA NOTES: did not intend for this to have smut but one thing lead to another and now this exists ahaha

🃏 — don’t like? don’t read.

⸺ MIDNIGHT WAS peaking around the corner, the moon revealing itself over the city as golden hour bleed through the curtains of the office building. orange and yellows casting onto (name)’s face as he checked the time on his watch: a soft hum leaving him, biting onto his bottom lip as he waited for a specific person to show—“can’t wait to get out of here, can you?”

(name) tore his attention from the mini-clock on his wrist to the man infront of him. “oh, hansuke!” his dyed bleach blonde hair, clean dark suit and shining smile glittered in (name)’s vision, internally wincing his eyes as he looked into his amber ones; it felt like he was staring at a manhwa character everytime they hung out. (name) blinked pursing his lips, lightly punching at his shoulder with his fist. “i was waiting for you, dummy.”

hansuke gasped with a fake pout, placing a hand over his heart to emphasize how ‘hurt’ he was at his words. “dummy? that really hurts my feelings, (name).” he whined, sniffling his nostrils and bringing his hands to his eyes to wipe nonexistent tears, “you have to learn how be nicer to me… remember, i’m older than you. respect your elders or whatever.”

“by three months.” (name) refuted ignoring the last sentence that left him, twiddling with the silver ring on his left hand. a gift his boyfriend, hiroto, gave him when they first began dating. something to show everyone he was taken and a promise that the two soulmates would replace it with a wedded one once they became husbands in the future. butterflies always flew around in his stomach when he was reminded of this everytime he touched the accessory, husbands. it sounded too perfect to be real.

the man infront of him placed his hands onto his hips, raising an eyebrow flickering his gaze to the ring on his friends’ finger then back onto his face. cocking his head with an airy chuckle, “so? you’re boyfriend is older than the both of us and yet, you still treat him with respect despite him practically being a grandpa.”

(name) rolled his eyes at hansuke’s insult. “thirty isn’t old, is that really the best you can come up with?” he spat, “you’re just mad i already found someone who’ll spend the rest of their life with me while you’re sat around acting like a child.”

“am not!”

“am too!”

“am not!”

“am to—“

the duo’s yells were muffled by a hand being placed onto their mouths. sharp acrylic nails dug into the skin beside (name)’s mouth, furrowing his brows at the woman beside him. “you both are acting like a bunch of children. you guys are in your twenties yet you continue to act like my two year old nephews.”

her stern voice rang in their ears like a bell. “we’re sorry, shinju.” the muffled apologies came out of them as they smiled against her soft palm. a frustrated exhale left her lips, retracting her arms to cross infront of her chest; unbuttoned grey blazer exposing the black dress shirt she wore underneath, pencil-skirt stretching slightly as she clicked her dark heels against the marble floor of the corridor. hair decorated into a slick-bun with side bangs and a grey clip tucking any loose hair on the sides.

“it’s everyday with you two.” shinju smacked verbally, eyes narrowing looking (name) up and down behind her glasses. “what are you still doing here? i thought you went off early because you were going to surprise hiroto for his birthday.”

“i was. but, somebody told me to wait for them so they could help me with it, not letting me know before hand they were stuck late in a meeting.” (name) tilted their head repeatedly, signaling to hansuke next to him. hansuke rolled his eyes with a head shake, slapping (name) on the side of his head with his palm. “well i still made it, didn’t i? stop being such a pissy little b—”

“watch you’re language while you’re at work, hansuke.” sanju exclaimed, sending a firm glare his way with a kick to his shin. hansuke silently yelled bringing his leg up to soothe where her heel had stabbed him, lightly swaying his body back and forth to keep his balance. “you guys have always been so biased towards each other when you’re with me—agh!”

“it doesn’t matter.” the shaking words went unheard as (name) grabbed his ear, a smile sketched onto his mouth scrunching his nose slightly towards shinju hiding her laugh behind her hand. “c’mon, we have to go quickly. hiroto could be back at any minute, we’ll have little time to set up for him if we wait around any longer.”

(name) bowed his head towards shinju, reciprocating his action with a smile as she watched him drag hansuke towards the elevator at the end of the hallway. different types of protests leaving him; grabbing at (name)’s wrist with poor attempts of being freed from his grip. shinju waved her hand, cupping the side of her mouth to yell, “make sure to tell hiroto i said ‘happy birthday!’ ”

the expensiveness of hiroto’s apartment left hansuke with his mouth agape. fingers ghosting over the white furniture as he looked out the window — eyes brightening with the lights of the city illuminating the darkness of tokyo, watching cars drive up and down the streets with the front of their vehicles on. turning his figure to look at (name) setting up streamers on the wall. “i think i can see my mom’s shop from here.”

(name) let out a tiny laugh, reminding him of memories of the first time hiroto brought him here. waking up in hiroto’s bed after he made the mistake of getting drunk on their first date. his nicely-dressed clothes replaced with a baggy shirt that hung from his shoulders and shorts that rode up his thighs. fuzzy remembrance of the events before sloshed in his brain, drowsy eyes darting around the well organized room. everything looked so… valuable; stepping out to be met with the smell of coffee hitting his nostrils and hiroto standing there more handsome than how he was yesterday.

outfit the same as last night. the only difference was his light blue shirt being unbuttoned at the top to reveal his bare chest covered in markings ( were those… hickies? ) black hair slightly messy and dark slacks replaced with loose grey sweatpants. lips drawn with a gorgeous smile onto his face as he made eye contact with him.

“sorry i didn’t wake you. you looked peaceful when you were sleeping, i couldn’t bring myself to disturb you.” hiroto said, watching (name) take slow steps towards him reaching out to grab the warm cup in his hand: muttering out a small ‘thank you’ as he sipped. (name) hummed with satisfaction at the hot feeling in his mouth, licking off any excess foam the drink left inbetween his vermillion. “it’s good, isn’t it?”

hiroto leaned forward planting his hands against the counter, blinking with his lustful eyes watching (name) nod. poor attempts of avoiding any type of contact with his vision as he spoke, “you really know how to satisfy someone’s taste buds… i guess that’s why your company owns coffee and vanilla. only someone like you can make something this great.” hiroto blushed at the constant trail of complements, face flushing with a flustered laugh exiting his rosy-colored lips. “you’re too kind to me, (name)..”

his hand reached out to the others laid on the counter, carefully intertwining their fingers together. smirking seeing the way they fit perfectly against each other like sets of puzzle pieces. planting a kiss to the back of it, chapstick leaving a faint texture on it as he looked up through his curled lashes, a grin curling the corners of his mouth. “i bet you say that to all of the men you’ve slept with.”

── huh?!

(name) coughed, shaking away the thoughts of that scene from his head. soothing down any creases in the black outfit he wore, focusing his attention to hansuke; seeing him struggle with a banner on one of the walls. one side was tilting, leaving the rest to be asymmetrical whenever gazed on it. “no—hansuke, you’re placing it wrong.” without thinking, (name) separated from where he was standing with quiet footsteps upon the wooden floor as he grabbed the fabric from hansuke’s hold. “here, let me do it.”

(name) fumbled on the step stool his friend was using, extending his arms higher with the thumbtack placed between his fingers to stick the banner still. hansuke hesitated before placing his right hand on his lower back to keep him steady, left crossing from his waist to his stomach. “hands to yourself, hansuke.”

hansuke scoffed, “shush, you know i’m only doing this to keep you from cracking your skull open.” (name) rolled his eyes, cocking his head towards the banner with a faint smirk. “whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“there! all done.” (name) spouted checking over the cloth, tilting his torso to the side to glance and make sure it was how he wanted it to be. he crossed his arms with pride looking over to hansuke with content, “looks better than how you did it, don’t ya’ think?”

“like i would ever tell you.” he spat with annoyance in his tone, pursing his lips against each other. internally nodding at how much better the banner looked now that it was fixed better, damn it he was right. (name) planted his foot on one of the steps of the stool, the furniture wobbled horribly with his actions. tearing itself from the floor as (name) lost his stability, tumbling backwards with an unsuspecting gasp. fuck!

closing his eyes as he waited to collide with the wood, a confused grunt leaving him when the feeling never came. opening his eyes slowly, seeing he was on the floor but not in the way he expected to be in; hansuke with his arm wrapped around his waist, hand flat next to his head as their faces were inches away from each other. heavy breathing leaving the two as they connected their eyes together, (name) darted his pupils around hansuke’s features. his eyebrows were creased, cold breath leaving his lips brushing against (name)’s own.

“(name)...”

“hansuke..” (name) sputtered, furrowing his brows together feeling how numb his hands were becoming from how he balled them into fists on his chest. “get off of me—”

“please, don’t stop on my account.”

the duo ripped away from each other at the recognizable voice. the soothing vocal stream of words filled (name)’s ears as the two peered over to the figure standing at the door of the living room, hiroto; wearing his usual suit with one of his hands digging into the pockets of his slacks, glasses tipping on his sloped nose with how he glared at hansuke. loosening his tie, flickering his eyes between them and at the décor filling the room. “is this my gift? it’s definitely a surprise, if you ask me.”

“hiroto!” (name) yelled, quickly shoving hansuke beside; ignoring how he winced when he stood up. smoothing down his clothes with his ruffed palms as he stepped towards hiroto cautiously, gulping to sooth down his dry mouth, “you’re home, i—”

hiroto cut him off by grabbing his forearm and shoving him against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around his shoulders without removing the jealous death stare he had towards hansuke. muffled words left (name) from inbetween his cage, gripping his fingers on hiroto’s blazer.

hansuke laughed awkwardly, rubbing his sweaty hands onto his pants to dry them. “hiroto! um, long time no see, buddy!” he exclaimed in a friendly way, fist bumping the air as he looked at him, hoping to ease the uncomfortable tension between them. “you look, as handsome as ever! heh… how ya’ been?—”

“get out of my house.”

“yes, sir.”

hansuke murmured, lowering his head when he frantically scrambled away from them, grabbing his things from the hanger near the door and slamming it behind him. (name) stiffled a smile at the scene with a breathy laugh leaving him, one that picked into hiroto’s ears, rubbing at his shoulders. “i didn’t know you were this ambitious, such a cruel birthday for me.”

(name) widened his eyes, lifting his head to meet up with hiroto’s gaze, seeing a teary-eyed shine gloss over his pupils along with furrowed brows. “no, hiroto! you’ve got it all wrong—” he stammered separating from him once he felt his arms loosening around his figure, hoisting his hands to rest at hiroto’s face, “he was just here to help me—nothing more!”

“help?” hiroto supressed a laugh, pouting his bottom lip out with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “that didn’t look like help to me.”

the shift in his expression didn’t go unnoticed by (name) as he ripped off from his lover with a look of annoyance. “don’t joke with me!” he cried, lightly punching at his chest with his knuckles. “i really thought you were mad at me for a second.” hiroto blew out air from his open-mouthed grin, tapping his chin with his index finger as he tilted his head. “but i love seeing you try to defend yourself, it’s my favorite game to play.”

hiroto grabbed at the space between (name)’s chin and lips, tugging him closer to attach their lips together. the feeling of possessiveness brushed against every connection their mouths made, changing the air in the room along with the heat pooling around their bodies sending fire to their core’s. “you know i belong to you, hiroto..”

he hummed against (name)’s lips, pressing another peck before separating, “and you know how i feel when you’re bring other men here.” hiroto whispered bending to press his mouth over (name)’s neck, biting on the skin earning an unexpected jolt over the others body. “naughty boys like you need to be punished.”

“eh, hiroto?—”

“if you want me…” hiroto grabbed at his wrists, dragging (name)’s hand to lay against his crotch. grunting at the feeling of his hand rubbing over the prominence of his bulge, the low tone in his voice made (name) ache with the warm feeling. “then you’re gonna have to work for it.”

“hiroto—ah!”

(name) yelped at the feeling of a hard smack colliding with the hot irritation of his ass, body stiffening and hands attempting to shift away from the tight grip hiroto had on it. every hit echoed in the quietness of their shared bedroom, a shadow painted across from them of the position they were in; hiroto sat on the end of the bed with half of his suit discarded on the ground, two buttons of his collar exposing the top of his chest and sleeves rolled to rest over his elbows.

and (name). half naked with his pants gone, only having his shirt cover him and his embarrassment. face flushed with heat filling his cheeks as he was bent over hiroto’s lap, torso aching at the uncomfortable sense of his thighs digging into it.

“y’know.. i think hansuke might have a crush on you.” hiroto spoke up, fingers tracing over the (name)’s tailbone. he winced, chest heaving with unstable breaths at the feeling of hiroto’s perfectly cut nails against him. “do you think he’d like seeing you like this? i know i would if i were him.”

(name) only let out a whine, lowering his head with his breath caught in his throat. “i’ve seen the way he looks at you.” he stated, “he probably wants you all to himself.” hiroto shifted their position, changing (name) from being on his lap to laying flat on their bed. running his hands over his thighs to his stiff cock, tracing his fingers from the base to the tip. “too bad, i don’t like sharing.”

hiroto faltered his movements, retracing his hand and plopping himself on the side next to (name). (name) blinked at him, sitting up on his elbows as they stared at eachother, hiroto with arousal in his gaze and (name) with confusion in his own at the change of scene. “hiroto?”

“undress me.”

“huh?”

“undress me.” hiroto repeated with a grin, “you didn’t expect the birthday boy to do all of the hard labor, did you?”

(name) felt his mouth go dry, lips agape with a small head shake of agreement. swallowing the lump in his throat as his shaking hands reached out to hiroto’s shirt, mimicking the things hiroto would do to him in his place. one by one, the buttons were removed — making hiroto shudder at the cold coming in contact with his bare chest, small kisses planted onto his faintly marked skin.

fingers drifting to rub against his nipples, soft whimpers coming out of hiroto at all of the attention being sent his way. (name) glanced at him, hands hovering over hiroto’s hard-on straining through his pants with uncertainty. “hiroto… can i?”

“when have i ever said no to you?”

(name) quickened the pace he had in unzipping hiroto’s pants — revealing his aching cock, the tip pink and pretty with small bits of precum leaking from it. hiroto smirked, watching (name) straddle over him with his knees planted next to his hips; hovering over his cock as he pressed his hands down onto his abdomen. “there’s no need to rush, we have all the time in the world.” hiroto said dragging his hands down his stomach in a teasing manner.

the two let out quick moans once (name) had lowered himself, grabbing hiroto’s cock to fit perfectly inside him — lightly stretching him open with how tight he was, “fuck.” (name) whined shoving himself up and down, hitting the spot that his dick was somehow able to reach everytime; it was like every part of hiroto was molded just for him. chest heaving at every bit of pleasure sending signals around his body, tiny squelching sounds filling their ears from hiroto’s dripping cum filling (name)’s insides.

“c’mere.” hiroto sat up, grabbing the back of (name)’s head to bring him into a open-mouthed kiss; their tongues drifting around in the others, saliva mixing together with no seem of breaking. hiroto rubbing at (name)’s own, his cock filling his hand as he jerked him off with movements repeating how he rode on his dick,

“perfect f’me.” he moaned during pecks, strings of the liquid melting in their mouths connecting to their lips. (name) whimpered wrapping his arms onto hiroto’s shoulders, arching his back as he deepened their kiss; not caring of the fight their lungs were making for air as they felt intoxicated by each other, nothing else mattered but them. “yeah, all for you.”

the sound of cars driving by and beeping for whatever reason didn’t phase the duo, being with each other was all they need. no ounce of care left in their bodies to disturb them, nothing about the situation with hansuke filled their memories either, just the tension and jealous-filled decisions that turned into nothing but love. how long have they going at this for? it felt likes hours have gone by, yet the time on the clock was still the same. the coil in (name)’s stomach was loosening, a snap reaching out to overcome him as he furrowed his brows. “ah!—hiroto… hiroto!-“

“i know— me too, me too..”

hiroto latched onto his throat like a vampire, biting down on the fresh hickey he had left there earlier; body spasming with cum spurting out of his cock, painting (name)’s walls white with excess dripping out slightly as (name) continued to move onto him at a faster speed. his own release coming out of his irritated tip, the liquid staining the middles of the two like messy artwork as they panted. hiroto resting his head into the side of (name)’s neck, pushing his cheek against it and licking at his puffed lips enjoying the leftover silence entering the room.

(name) treaded his fingers through hiroto’s slightly knotted up hair, pressing lazy kisses to his scalp not realizing ( or caring that ) his cock was still stuck inside him with his cum leaking out of hole. he readjusted his posture, eyes brightening as a smile stretched across his face, separating hiroto from his neck with a gentle tug. “i almost forgot—” hiroto raised a brow at the removal of warmth, humming in confusion seeing the bright grin spread onto (name)’s face. tilting his head to the side, waiting for what was next as he admired his features.

“shinju says happy birthday. ”

a/n: blah blah blah… that boy is mine blah blah blah… i love sakurada dôri… ( fucking cringe this is bad ok bye you can leave now how the hell do you write smut happy valentines day )

(creds to czennies_assemble)

© @deckedcards 2025 all rights reserved ☆ please do not repost, translate, copy or share my work on other platforms without my permission, thank you.

[oaksgrove]

More Than Temporary

Valentine’s Day Special

pairing: John Price x Shy!Introvert!Reader

synopsis: You never expected John Price to be anything more than a fleeting moment in your life—something warm but temporary, a quiet dream you’d wake from eventually. But when he overhears your fears of being nothing more than a passing phase, he decides to prove you wrong—starting with Valentine’s Day.

warnings: Fluff, mutual pining, insecurity, self-doubt, Price being the most patient and loving man alive, lots of soft domestic moments, implied intimacy, Valentine’s Day romance

word count: 1943

a/n: This one’s for all my fellow overthinkers, especially when it comes to love. Happy Valentine’s Day!

You’d always been the kind of person who preferred the background.

Quiet corners, neatly organized files, the soft hum of printers, the faint shuffle of papers—that was your comfort zone. Military administration suited you well. You blended seamlessly into the routine: processing reports, organizing schedules, ensuring the logistics of war ran smoothly from behind a desk. People came and went, their names etched into documents you processed, their faces blurring together over time.

Except for him.

Captain John Price wasn’t just another name on a file. He was larger than life—commanding, confident, with that deep voice and sharp eyes that seemed to see right through people. The first time you met him, you’d barely managed to string together a coherent sentence, your voice soft and tentative as you handed him a report.

And he’d smiled.

Not just polite or dismissive, but warm. Like you were the only person in the room.

It didn’t take long after that. Glances turned into small conversations, small conversations turned into lingering moments, and those moments eventually unraveled into stolen nights tangled in sheets, his touch burning into your skin like you were something precious.

But you knew better.

Someone like him—charming, confident, respected—didn’t settle for someone like you. This was temporary. A distraction. A phase he’d forget once something—or someone—better came along.

You’d accepted it.

Until he overheard you.

It was a few days before Valentine’s Day when you found yourself tucked away in a quiet corner of the base’s small café, a steaming cup of tea cradled between your hands. The soft hum of conversation and the faint clatter of dishes filled the background, but your mind was far too occupied.

Your friend, Mia, sat across from you, stirring her coffee absentmindedly as she studied your face. You’d been fidgeting with the sleeve of your sweater, avoiding her gaze, clearly lost in thought.

Mia finally broke the silence, her brow arched with curiosity. “Alright, spill. You’ve been weird all week. What’s going on?”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening around the mug. “It’s nothing.”

She snorted. “Yeah, because ‘nothing’ always makes people look like they’ve been overthinking their entire existence. Come on, talk to me.”

You sighed, glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot before leaning in slightly. “It’s… Price.”

Mia’s eyes lit up with interest. “Captain Price? The Captain Price you’ve been hooking up with for, what, two months now?”

Your face flushed, and you tried to shush her, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Keep it down!”

She grinned, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Sorry, sorry. So… what about him?”

You fiddled with the rim of your cup, trying to find the right words. “I just… I don’t know what this is. Between us.”

Mia tilted her head. “What do you mean? Isn’t it obvious? You’ve been spending time together, he’s always looking at you like you hung the damn moon—”

“That’s just it,” you interrupted, frustration creeping into your voice. “I don’t think this is… anything. Not really. I mean, look at him. He’s—he’s John Price. He’s confident, respected, he could have anyone he wants. And then there’s me. I’m just—” you waved your hand vaguely, “—me.”

Mia frowned, leaning forward. “You’re not ‘just’ anything. Why would you think that?”

You swallowed hard, staring into your tea as if it held the answers. “Because I’m temporary. This… whatever we’re doing, it’s just a phase for him. Maybe it’s convenient, maybe it’s casual, but it’s not… permanent. He’s probably going to get bored eventually, and I’ll just—” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “I’ll get hurt if I let myself believe it’s more than it is.”

Mia was quiet for a moment, her expression softening. Then she reached across the table, placing her hand gently over yours.

“Have you ever thought that maybe you’re wrong?”

You blinked at her, caught off guard.

She continued, her voice gentle but firm. “You see yourself one way, but that doesn’t mean that’s how he sees you. Just because you think you’re temporary doesn’t mean he does. Have you ever asked him how he feels?”

Your stomach twisted. “No. I don’t want to put him in an awkward position.”

Mia squeezed your hand. “You’re not a burden, you know. Maybe you should give him the chance to prove that.”

You nodded slowly, her words lingering in your mind long after the conversation ended.

What you didn’t know was that John had been standing just a few feet away, waiting for his coffee.

And he’d heard everything.

And that’s when he decided—Valentine’s Day wouldn’t just be another day.

It would be the day he proved you were wrong.

You woke up to warmth.

Not just from the soft morning sunlight spilling through the blinds, but from the solid, comforting presence of John Price wrapped around you. His arm was slung over your waist, his face nestled against the crook of your neck, his beard scratching gently at your skin.

You blinked, heart racing.

He was still here.

You shifted slightly, trying not to disturb him. But his grip tightened, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Where d’you think you’re going?” His voice was thick with sleep, low and gravelly against your ear.

"I was gonna make coffee," you stammered softly.

"Coffee can wait," he murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder. “Stay.”

So you stayed. Wrapped up in him, his fingertips tracing slow, idle circles on your skin, his breath warm against your neck. Time lost all meaning in the cocoon of his embrace.

Eventually, he did get up—to make breakfast.

You tried to protest, but he just kissed your forehead and said, “Let me take care of you today.”

The kitchen smelled of coffee and something buttery with a faint hint of burning. You padded in quietly, drawn by the soft clatter of dishes and John’s voice humming under his breath.

He stood at the stove, wearing nothing but sweatpants, the muscles in his back flexing as he flipped pancakes. A dishtowel hung over his shoulder, and he was concentrating so hard on not burning them that he didn’t notice you watching.

You leaned against the doorway, hiding a smile.

"Y’know," he said without turning around, "staring’s rude."

Your face flushed. "I wasn’t staring."

"Oh, sure you weren’t," he teased, glancing over his shoulder with a grin. "C’mere.."

You crossed the room, and he reached out, tugging you gently by the waist until you were tucked against his side. He pressed a kiss to your temple before turning back to the pan, flipping the pancake with a little more flair this time.

“They’re a bit burnt,” he admitted sheepishly, plating them anyway.

"They’re perfect," you replied softly.

And they were.

After breakfast, he laced his fingers through yours, tugging you toward the door.

“C’mon, love. Let’s get some fresh air.”

The streets were dusted with remnants of snow, the cold biting just enough to make you tuck yourself a little closer to him. Not that he seemed to mind. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand as if he couldn’t help it, small circles of warmth seeping into your skin with every step.

The town was buzzing with Valentine’s Day energy—shop windows decorated with red ribbons, heart-shaped balloons, and couples wandering hand-in-hand. Normally, this much attention to romance might’ve made you feel awkward, but with John beside you, it felt… natural.

Further down the street, you stumbled upon a small bookshop with faded letters painted on the glass. Without thinking, you slowed your steps, eyeing the display of well-loved novels and dusty hardcovers stacked in the window.

“You wanna go in?” Price asked, already steering you gently toward the door.

Inside, the scent of old paper and worn leather filled the air, and you found yourself relaxing into the quiet comfort of the space. Price trailed behind you, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back as you browsed through the shelves.

You picked up a book—a battered copy of a romance with a cracked spine—and flipped through the pages.

Price leaned over your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck. “That one any good?”

You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious. "I… I’ve read it before."

"Then let’s get it," he said easily, plucking the book from your hands and heading to the register before you could protest.

After the bookstore, you found yourselves wandering into a quiet park. The pathways were lined with bare trees, their branches reaching like fingers toward the pale winter sky.

Price guided you toward an empty bench overlooking a small frozen pond, dusted with a thin layer of snow. You sat, the cold of the wooden seat seeping through your coat, but the warmth of his arm draping around your shoulders made it bearable.

He pulled you closer without a word, your head naturally finding its place against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear was grounding, soothing.

For a while, you sat in silence, watching a few kids in the distance throwing snowballs, their laughter echoing faintly.

Price shifted slightly, his lips brushing the top of your head. "Y’know, I never really cared much for Valentine’s Day."

You glanced up at him, curious. "No?"

He shook his head, his thumb grazing your shoulder. "Felt like a load of commercial nonsense. But today…" His gaze softened, eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at you. "Feels different."

Your heart clenched, warmth blooming in your chest despite the winter chill.

"Because of me?" you whispered, half teasing, half terrified of the answer.

His response was immediate. “Because of you.”

You tucked your face into his chest, hiding the smile that you couldn’t fight even if you wanted to.

By the time you got home, the anxiety had faded—replaced with something warm but terrifying.

Because he still hadn’t left.

You curled up together on the couch for a while, his fingers threading lazily through your hair, his thumb tracing circles against your skin. The day slipped into evening, the sky painted in soft shades of pink and orange.

That’s when he disappeared into the kitchen again.

You peeked in after a while, finding him standing at the stove, humming softly under his breath as he stirred a pot of sauce. The table was set—candles, wine glasses, even a small bouquet of flowers.

When did he…?

You swallowed thickly. “John…”

He turned, wiping his hands on a towel. “Sit down, love.”

After dinner, he pulled out a small box.

You blinked. “What’s that?”

"A gift." He set it in front of you, his fingers lingering on yours.

You hesitated, then opened it.

Inside was a delicate necklace—a simple chain with a small pendant shaped like a compass.

“I figured,” he said quietly, “it’d remind you where you belong.”

Your throat tightened. "John, I—"

He reached for your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“I heard what you said,” he murmured. "About being temporary. About me not settling for someone like you."

Your face flushed, embarrassment flooding your chest.

“But here’s the thing,” he continued softly, leaning closer. “I don’t want temporary. Not with you. I don’t care how shy you are, or how much you try to fade into the background. Because every time I walk into a room, you’re all I see."

Your breath hitched.

"So," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours, "let me be your man. Not for now. For as long as you’ll have me."

Your heart ached with the weight of it.

So you answered the only way you knew how.

You kissed him—soft, deep, sure.

Because John Price didn’t settle.

He chose.

And he chose you.

[orchidyoonkook]

LASTONELASTONE!! I did it! and within the promised time frame too, look at me go! (Im taking any wins atm, please dont mind me)

ONTO!

why am i sobbing right now 😭😭😭😭 this was so fluffy this hang out ahhhhhh yoon it was adorable 😩😩🥺🥺🥹😭🥹😭🥹😭🥹

I love them i love them i love them. I LOVE THEM. I love how easy they are with one another, how effortless and thoughtless and easy.

oc and jungkook literally have my heart at this point i mean i am speechless the fact that she made this so special for him and he was looking out for her during the exams and the freaking gift i can't stop sobbing 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

One thing about OC is that if she can create some solstice magic for somebody, she absolutely will. She's like me in the sense that she thinks holidays should be celebrated for their true intentions, and that no one should be denied that magic.

I love that he can't help it either, like it physically pains him to see her like that so he's compelled to help. He's such a good man, that JK.

THE GIFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT. OH I WAS SO STOKED FOR THAT. I love that he did it, I love the thought that went into it. That he noticed she has older brushes, 'lower' (but still good) quality brushes, brushes that look like theyve been used to much, and he used that information and just automatically decided that her passions and talent deserved the best instead of the best she could get herself. That he didn't think twice about the price of the gift because money has never been an issue for him, but he thought about the gifts impact and how it could help her achieve her dreams.

i think about his gift versus her unintentional on and their contrast a lot. I really enjoyed writing them.

so it was a mix of sobs turns blushes because of that muscle use talk hey (what a switch up)

sobbing and blushing with you!

And I like a lil spice with my fluff, what can I say. Balance is nice. I also like the natual growth of conversation, in a way that's expressed with a game of wits that turns into more trust and respect by the end of it. That's a complicated sentence, I hope that makes sense. XD

but omg the tree and the star (yoon how adorable you actually make those i love it that little add you did there)

I did! second year of college yoon wanted a christmas tree in her dorm real bad, so she went to her local dollarstore and got a little one and little baubles to match. But they didnt have tree toppers! So i took a cereal box out of my recycling bin, cut out a star, glued tin foil to the bitch and put'er on top of my baby tree. I still have and use it to this day. She remains super cute and festive.

and they are hugging now look it's one step closer to a kiss i will take it

I personally find hugs to be more intimate and passionate then kissing when done within the right context. A kiss? you can kiss anyone and have it mean nothing. But a hug? To be held? An embrace where you just hold another person because of the emotions your feeling can only be expressed tactiley like that? Hits different for me.

i can't get over how fluffy and homey this was and with the bodyguard too it just captured my heart i love this chapter it's definitely in my top 10 PJK moments (basically it's every interaction they have that's why it's 10 you get it) 🥹

THE GUARDS. MY BABIES. I love the guards, I love their positive masculine energy, I love that JK has them, and I love that they like OC. He's a little brother almost to most of them, they're the kind of older brothers who clearly aren't afraid to give their little bro shit, but are also his biggest cheerleaders when it counts. I just. I love my guards. I was so excited to introduce them finally.

holy shit top ten!!!!!! I'm honoured, flattered and in dire need of that list in ranked order so we can geek out together. (also so i can compare the current list to the list when the series if finished.)

(also also that is of course, not a request, only a "if you ever wanted to do so, I would be more than willing to read and geek")

and now they won't see each other over solstice i wonder how that's going to go i just know the texts are not gonna stop flowing i can not wait to see why happens in chapter 10

Chapter ten is currently 13.1k. :)

And in a slightly different format. But only slightly. You'll see what I mean when it's released <3

yoon please give a spoiler like a minor one okay give us a line a quote something please 🥹🖤

👀👀👀👀

Picasso [3:24pm]: Hey, if I wanted to mail you something while ur home, how would I do that??

👀👀👀👀

yoon you know i adore you and seeing how you have grown as a writer is the most beautiful thing and i just know you are going to do so many more great things i want you know i am here always and i adore you, your happiness means the world to me and i hope you are smiling and your days are filled with happiness - kiki 🖤

You know? I thought it was raining from how wet my face and clothes were, but it was actually just the ocean of tears this just made me shed in a downpour.

I can never, and will never be able to tell you how important reviews and humans like you are to me in particular, but to writers and creatives out there who do what I do. There is no us without you. I will say it in every. single. review. you write me, but you and folks like you are the reason fic and fic community stays alive, and I can never thank you enough for it. I'm so thankful and grateful for your constant and unwavering support, and for being on this wild writing ride with me as I grow with it.

I hope I can keep up the consistency of the writing style, and only improve as I go, as well as not screw up this story you love so dearly. I promise to try my best.

I am absolutely smilling and filled with happiness. I hope you are the same <3

Xo, Yoon

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 9

Title: Sugar Cookies and Devious Confessions

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Exams season and Solstice? Consider YN locked in, loaded, ready to go, hangry, and sentimental. Jungkook is just along for the ride with a hefty side of acts of service, quality time and physical touch are his love languages. Who'da thunk?

Warnings: T, language, fluff, so much fluff actually, I've surprised myself, semi-sexual conversations, JK is a menace but Reader can keep up...mostly, touch of angst tbh, reader gets hangry and is bad at taking care of herself sometimes, but apologises and makes up for it, mostly just wholesome this time. And fun!

Word Count: 6,675

Release Date: December 8, 2024. 12:30PM

A/N 1: Hiiiiiiiiiiii. It's here, thank you to those who reminded me. I literally would have forgotten for the third week in a row without them. I love you all.

A/N 1.5: Chapter ten will be coming sometime between Dec 20th-30th as it is festive and that's all I will say about it.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight

Jungkook’s learned many things about you since your friendship started. 

From your favourite colours to your favourite brush to paint with. He learned that you are always team morally gray love interest in the books you read in your limited spare time, although that one was learned a little against your will. 

He’d wanted to know why you always went for them, and very begrudgingly you admitted you found it appealing when they’d do anything to protect the main character. That they always did what they thought was best or what needed to be done despite their sad backstory, because for some reason, they all had sad backstories.

Every. Single. One of them. 

And you claimed it suckered you in every time. 

But through all of your time spent together—specifically during midterms—Jungkook learned just how much you ignore all of your basic needs as a human being when it comes to exams season. 

How you’ll forget to eat all day in favour of studying, or staying up late to finish your practical exam projects, making absolutely sure they’re up to your impossibly high standards, disregarding sleep.

So it doesn’t surprise him when he turns the corner to the greenhouse cafe to see you, thinner than normal with bags under your eyes, slaving away at something on your computer. 

He hates that he can tell you’ve lost weight through your winter clothing.

You look up, briefly smiling in greeting. He can tell just from how long it took you to notice him that you need a break, a good healthy meal and some sleep.

He smiles back, but bypasses you and walks straight into the cafe. You don’t think twice about it, already knowing what he’s doing.

“Hey Vivian,” he says to the barista.

“Hey JK, the regular?” She's restocking some cups and lids to the counter.

“Please, but tag on a hot chocolate for YN and some tarts.” Vivian nods, typing the order into the cashing system, very much used to either of you adding on each other's order to your own at this point.

“Machines ready for you,” she says, already prepping the first drink—his by the looks of it.

Jungkook pays and waits patiently, watching you from the window. 

“How long’s she been here?” he asks over the currently frothing milk—that’s for your hot chocolate.

“Since seven. She grabbed a tea and hasn’t moved since.” 

It’s almost 1:30 now, and Viv looks at him knowingly. She’s watched you do this to yourself every mid-term and exam season since you started. 

“Ah. I see.” He purses his lips.

It’s only a few minutes before the drinks and tarts are ready. Jungkook grabs them and heads out the door, calling a thank you over his shoulder.

“Okay look,” he says to grab your attention as he stands directly in front of you. The act of walking to the front of you alone clearly not enough to gain it. 

Looking up, your eyes widen in glee at the treats he carries. You attempt to reach for them but he pulls them back.

“Nuh uh, you need food.” 

You look at him confused. “Those are food.”

“No, these are the reward. You need a meal.” 

You try to interrupt him. Most likely to say you do eat meals, but instant ramen or a box of mac'n'cheese do not count, and he cuts you off before you can. “A healthy meal, Picasso, something to give your body nourishment and energy. One that fills you up.”

You scowl at him. 

“But–”

“No buts,” he cuts you off again. “Healthy food. Full, happy belly food,” he says, gently patting his stomach so not as to spill his drink. “Pack up, we’re going to the cafeteria and getting you some.”

“But–”

“Y/N,” he says sternly, giving you a look that says he will not be budging on this, and that if you refuse, he’s going to throw you over his shoulder to ensure it happens. 

It was the voice of a future King, he thinks. Then internally shudders. That’s not who he is with you, but he can admit that sometimes this side of him comes in handy during times like these. 

“Fine.” You snip, very clearly not happy about this.

Fortunately, you don’t seem to have any art supplies with you today, just your computer, a notepad and pencil case. You gather them quickly, throwing them into your backpack with an annoyed look because you don’t want to stop, but he’s forcing your hand.

He doesn’t care. You need this, and it’s clear as hell you were not going to do it on your own.

You were so fucking stubborn sometimes. 

His mask, hat and baggy shirt combo mixed with some large combat boots and a slight slouch in posture has worked wonders disguising him from the public so far. In fact, he’s pretty sure it intimidates some people seeing as how they nearly jump out of his way. You’ve joked about it before, calling it his ‘scary dog privilege’…whatever that meant. 

Jungkook doesn’t mind, though. Despite being four months into the school year, and his speech at the beginning, people still fawn and stare at him. Trying to get his attention, his approval. Anything to get something from him, even if it’s just a look in their direction. 

He wonders if it will ever die down, if it'll ever go away. Or if with new freshmen every year, a new horde of people will seek him out. 

So, he’s grateful that with this little disguise on, no one bats an eye at him as you two walk the fifteen minutes it takes to get across campus to the cafeteria. He knows you’re more than mentally drained, because you’re not checking over your shoulder every few seconds to make sure no one realizes you’re with him like you usually do. 

You enter the main building, luckily the cafeteria on the ground floor, just near the back. Once there, you walk straight to the fridge of premade to-go foods. Grabbing a fruit cup, a chicken caesar salad, and a container of mixed vegetables with dip, you turn to him.

“Is this good enough for you?” you snark.

“Yep, great choices,” he says, ignoring your tone. “Very healthy and nutritious. Plus you nearly have all the food groups.”

“I do have all the food groups,” you say back, deadpan.

Wow…

You really need some sleep, he’s never heard you sound so lifeless. Or mean. You’re only ever truly mean when you’re beyond exhausted, too tired to care. 

He’d say your mood and overall vibe is like a mixture of brown and gray, but he knows if he said it out loud you’d make him specify which specific shades of brown and gray, so he keeps the thought to himself. Both not to provoke you and to be polite.  

“You’re missing dairy and grain,” he says.

You point to his hands holding the tarts and drink.

“Fair point,” he concedes, and trails you to the register, grabbing a protein shake from a nearby fridge on the way. His card is out and paying before you can reach for your wallet and you accept it, even too worn out to yell at him for buying you something. 

Hot chocolate and the occasional bag of tarts you're fine with, because half the time you’re also buying him his coffee and sharing your tarts, so you see it as a fair trade. But anything outside those and you damn near throw a fit, claiming you don’t need him to spend his money on you. 

You never want anything from him, so unlike everyone else in his life.

He leads you to a more private booth in the corner, scary dog privilege in full effect as no one dares stand in his way, and you very unceremoniously plop down, sluggishly shucking off your bag and coat. 

Definitely a brownish-gray. 

You two eat and drink in silence; you, slowly picking away at your food, him, finishing his drink then eating the vegetables from the container you don’t like. It’s a peaceful silence, contented as your mood gradually improves and some colour returns to your face the more you get into your system. 

The sight relieves him. 

“Sorry,” you say, eyes glued to the table, unable to look at him. And he knows it’s for the way you treated him pre-food.

“No worries,” he replies. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. That's good.”

Jungkook wasn’t going to push, but now that your mood’s improving, he hopes it’s safe to.

“Hey,” you look up at him, the bags under your eyes more evident under the artificial light and his heart breaks a little at the sight. “Promise me you’ll get some sleep tonight?”

A small close lipped smile finds your face, eyes soft, appreciative. The corner of his own lifts to match. 

“I promise I’ll try.”

You fall asleep early that night, 9pm. 

You don’t know what allows you to, but your exam worries fade and assignment anxiety slips from your mind the heavier your eyes grow. In the back of your head however, a thought slips through your defenses; you know it’s because of the look in Jungkook's eyes when he’d asked you too. 

The one of worry—genuine worry—for you. 

You hate yourself for causing it. You never want him to have to worry about you, god…he already has so much on his plate, you don’t want to add to it. 

But mostly…

But mostly you let yourself succumb to slumber because you don’t want to disappoint him. 

He asked you so kindly, and you know he had your best interests at heart when he did. He always does. 

You don’t have it in you to deny him that simple favour. To take care of yourself a little better.

So you sleep, just this once. For him. To help relieve him of the stress you caused.

And you know that that thought is what lets you until 10am the next day.

You feel better than you have in weeks.

You have everything you could possibly need to make all the recipes you have planned for today. Eggs, flour, sugar, soju, cutters, extracts, ginger, honey, chocolate chips, food colouring, some fruit concentrates and more are stuffed into the bags that dangle from your now struggling arms. There’s also another much lighter bag filled with a surprise for him that sits near the crook of your elbow. 

 Jungkook’s not going to know what hit him.

The door clicks open and you watch his eyes nearly leave his skull before he reaches to take them from you.

“Oh wow, you really weren’t kidding were you,” he says as he takes them to the kitchen with ease. 

Stupid muscles, you think, but the thought doesn’t hold for too long, glad at having your arm circulation back. 

“Solstice cookies are no joke in my house,” you say, following him.

“Clearly.”

He starts taking things out of the bags and you grab the one with the surprise in it before he can get to it.

“Won’t we need that?” he asks.

“Yes, but it’s not for cookies,” you start backing away towards the living room, bag behind your back. “It’s a surprise.”

Jungkook has a goofy grin plastered on his face as he follows you, and you put one on to match.

You stand in front of the coffee table and order him to sit and close his eyes, a sarcastic ‘yes ma’am’ comes from his lips, but he does as told. 

You set the contents of the bag on the coffee table; a small fake tree with built in lights, some tiny baubles in a box, a star, a polaroid camera and a custom, empty ornament.

“Okay, open!”

Jungkook opens his eyes and the same goofy grin returns, but this time there’s a sparkle in his eyes that you’ve never seen before.

His voice is gentle and lovely when he asks, “What’s all this Picasso?”

“Your very own tree to decorate. We have lights, decorations, even a star for the top,” you say as he leans and picks up the star. “You said you didn’t really celebrate anymore so I wanted to bring some celebration back to you—if you wanted to, that is.”

He twirls the star in his hand, smile never leaving, as he inspects it closer. “Did you make this?”

You turn sheepish. “Ah… yeah. They don’t really sell mini toppers for the mini trees, just the baubles, so that guy’s made from the finest cereal box cardboard and tinfoil on the market.”

He just stares, at the star, at the tree, then to you. You can’t tell if you screwed up or not. Did he hate this?

But then he’s standing and you’re in his arms as he hugs you. 

You freeze, unsure of what to do for a second, before you let your arms go around him, hugging him back. 

He’s solid, you can feel the strength in him as he breathes, and the weight in his arms as they hold you. 

But also warm. So warm your cheeks start to heat to match the rest of your body that seems to be on fire. 

It ends before it barely started, and you find yourself missing him the second he’s gone. 

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head as if not realizing what he’d just done until after he stopped. You want to tell him it was okay, but he says, “thank you,” immediately after, and squats down to open the baubles. 

“You’re welcome,” you say as you watch, sitting down on the couch. He looks like a kid, the brightest of smiles on his face as he goes to place the first one, but pauses, and hands it to you. 

“You know better than me where to start.”

You giggle, placing the red sphere near the middle, and gesture for him to put on the next one. It continues like this until the box is empty, you then him, then you then him. He places the last ornament and looks to you, star in hand. 

“You do it,” you say. You’ve done this a million times with your mum, you doubt he’s done the same.

He carefully grabs the top branch that sticks up, placing the star over it. Your heart swells at how gentle he is with your handmade decoration. 

“Now the last step,” you say, as you reach for the camera. This was your favourite tradition with your mother, the yearly solstice picture. You have one from every single year after you were born, and even one with you in your mum’s belly. 

“Turn around,” you say, spinning your finger and he does, you follow.

You’re both on the ground in front of the tree, and you lift the camera, leaning into him. Still so warm. He leans right back. 

“Say 'Solstice!'” you call out, and smile.

“Solstice,” he says with you as you snap the picture.

You pause for a moment, making sure the image is done capturing before leaning away again. 

The image prints out, and you take hold of it, shaking so it develops faster. 

“Can you get some scissors, and a permanent marker?” you ask Jungkook. He leaves for only a moment, returning from the kitchen, scissors and marker in hand. 

You reach for the empty, custom ornament. It’s a camera, and where the lens would be is a spot for a picture. Cutting the polaroid to fit, you slide it in, and write solstice followed by the year on the back of the ornament.  You put it in the middle of the tree, letting the baubles frame it.

You don’t see Jungkook watching you do all of this, a look in his eye that would melt you if you saw. 

“And now for the magic,” you say, turning on the built-in lights. The tree twinkles as the little LEDs reflect off baubles, like stars on a clear night winking at one another.

You're too busy looking at the tree when you hear a click. Following the sound you see Jungkook, polaroid camera in hand, lens facing you. The image pops out and he grabs it, placing it on the coffee table beside the tree.

“Aren't you supposed to shake it?” you ask.

He looks purely serene as he responds. “Nah, polaroids have chemicals and dyes layered in them, so if you shake them you can get microbubbles or marks on them.”

You didn’t know that, but it doesn’t surprise you in the slightest that he does. His talent for photography, a result of years of study and practice. 

“Oh, good to know,” you say as you take the camera from him, and direct him to look at the tree. You snap a picture to match your own, placing it on the table beside the one he took. 

He stays sat there, staring at the tree for a while, the occasional flit towards you before the tree once again.

“It’s perfect,” Jungkook says, breaking the comfortable silence. He clears his throat before adding. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You don’t know what else to say besides that, but you can see the happiness in his eyes. Their glow. Their warmth. 

You don’t think you need to say more. 

He knows. 

Time is quickly passing, and you have five recipes to get through today. So as much as you find yourself not wanting to move, perfectly happy sitting here with him for the rest of the day in this beautiful silence, you can’t. The tree is only the beginning of your day together.

“Cookie time?” you ask. 

Jungkook looks to you and takes a deep breath, as if he was also content to stay where you were for the day.

Just you, him and the tree.

“Cookie time.”

“You bitch!” you say as flour flies from his hand to your cheek. 

You were three and a half recipes in, having made two easier recipes first to ease him into a more difficult one. Shortbread, maejakgwa, and gingerbread now sit around in tupperware and cooling sheets around the apartment. 

But because of that, Jungkook is slowly losing all seriousness as you retrieve the sugar cookie dough from his fridge. It was actually the first thing you’d made, knowing it had to chill for a while beforehand, hence the three and a half. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, all knowing smirk plastered on his face like a neon billboard. 

You refuse to sink to his childish levels, and remove the beautifully chilled dough from its refrigerator bowl. Wiping your face with a cloth to clean yourself of the flour, you order him over.

“Come use all your unnecessary muscles to roll this out, quarter inch thick,” holding out the rolling pin to him. The smirk lessons only slightly, but he does as told. 

“All my muscles are unnecessary, huh?” he says after a minute of rolling. You’re by the sink washing some dishes as he does and you can all but physically see the egging in his voice. 

“Yes.”

“And why’s that?” He asks as he finishes rolling out the dough and begins on his cookie cutter decisions. You’ve learned he’s particular about which one’s he wants to use for which type of cookie. 

“Because you have like a million eight foot tall, 450 pound security guards following your every move at all times,” you say, as if this was obvious. In reality, it was a solid team of six guards who were at their tallest 6 '4, and maybe 285 at their heaviest. 

Admittedly, they were all really nice guys, having met them numerous times over the months. And you were planning on stealing some of the cookies from today to give them little solstice bags. 

Jungkook’s never going to be able to eat them all by himself  anyway…you think. And even if he could, he really shouldn’t.

“So, because I have security guards,” he looks at you unbelievingly, “my muscles are unnecessary?” 

“Yes. Why have them if you don’t need them?” At this point you’re just teasing him.

“Lots of reasons,” and he starts listing as you continue to clean. “They look nice, but that's obvious.”

“I’m sure your groupies don’t mind that at all,” you sneak in under your breath, referring to his enormous, and rather lewd mouthed female following on social media. 

“Hey, you leave my groupies out of this, they’re nice people,” he says, pointing a white powdered finger. You scoff and go back to the dishes mumbling something about how they feed his ego. 

“There’s also the fact that I like being strong. I like that I don’t get winded from jogging up the stairs, and I like that I have the ability to help damsels who show up at my place with their arms full of far too many heavy bags.”

You shoot him a glare and he laughs. “You can’t say I’m wrong.”

You also don’t have to acknowledge that comment.

He takes it as a win in your ever ongoing battle of wits. And just to try and even out the playing field a little more, as you are currently winning by a landslide, he adds on a little more to his answer, hopefully one you’re not expecting, and therefore winning by shock factor.

“There’s other reasons too, but those are a lot less PG, to say the least.”

He—

Your hands pause their ministrations for mere seconds before continuing.

How did he say it so…casually!?

Like he didn’t essentially just tell you he likes being strong for bedroom purposes. A topic you’ve never been anywhere near speaking to him about, and he just… brings it up like that? So cryptically as if he wants you to ask for clarification. 

And you do want clarification, damn him!

You hate that it makes you curious. Hate. It.

You like knowing things, not to be nosey, but because you like the mental safety it brings. When you and Nel first started having sex you did a deep dive on everything you could, to make sure nothing was a surprise and that you didn’t hurt yourself or him if you tried anything new. 

Little did you know half of the research was for nothing. Nel has never been the most sexually adventurous person, whereas you wanted to try out new things, explore, see what you like via trial and error, he was fine with good ole missionary and a handful of other basic positions. 

What you two do now works though. And that’s what counts. Compromise. Overcome. Enjoy and respect each other's boundaries. 

But it makes you wonder if Jungkook knows anything you don’t. 

That reason alone is apparently enough for you to hear, “Like what?” leave your lips before you can stop it. And you internally freak.

What the fuck! You did not just ask him that. 

That did not just come out of your mouth.

You did not jus-

“You really wanna know?” he asks, eyeing you over his shoulder with a single quirked brow, like he can’t believe you said it either, but he’ll dish you if you want him too. 

How interesting. You don’t remember gaining this level of trust from him, to be honest about something so personal. So private. 

You wonder when that happened. 

No, you say in your mind. But your head is gingerly nodding yes. 

Stop that! You think to your body, betraying you once again.

Jungkook hums before picking up a cutter, a simple circle. 

“Well,” he punctuates the word with a cutter punch. “Uhh…there’s a certain level of—” a punch, “—power dynamic I prefer having, and they definitely help with that,” another cutter punch. “I also like being able to lift my partner with relative ease, or carry them if need be. Legs around my hips is a personal favourite.”

Your dishwashing slows as he continues, unable to stop the images that flood your mind thanks to your visual thinking. 

Stupid art brain.

A small pool of heat starts to form low in your stomach. Stupid art brain.

After some more circular cutter punches, you think he’s finished and you’re relieved, but then he switches to a spikier one and continues. 

“I’ve also learned that finger strength seems to be a fan favourite,” he jokes and you gulp, forcing that thought out of your head as soon as it enters like a slingshot.  “And most of my previous partners seemed to enjoy the fact that I could, uhm…well, that I could hold them in place while I did… that is…whatever I wanted to them.” 

You ignore the wetness in forming your underwear. This conversation, regardless of who it was with, was not helping you and your complete and utter lack of sex. 

Another enormous downside to long distance, your libido and its easily excitable nature due to lack of use. Maybe an appointment with your vibrator is due soon, if you’re this affected by these attempts at sterile descriptions of sexual-like encounters. He isn’t even saying anything expressly dirty. He’s trying to be as respectful and informative in his answers as he can.

Plus, you did this to yourself. 

“But if I had to pick, I think there’s a tie for my favourite part about having unnecessary muscles for non PG purposes,” he says, and looks at you with another quirked brow, seeing if he’s allowed to proceed.

You’ve entirely stopped washing the dishes. Too focused on not focusing on the growing need blooming inside you. 

Oh yes, you’re penciling it in right now: Vibrator appointment. Tonight. 10:30pm. 

Sharp.

Time to accept the consequences of your actions.

“Consider it a potential learning opportunity. Academically speaking, of course,” you say, as a way to make this educational. That’s all this is anyway right? To see if he knows anything you don’t. 

Right?

Right.

“If you say so Picasso.” He tears the leftover dough from the neatly cut cookies, and starts laying them on a baking pan. “First, I like that I’m strong enough to flip my partner over whether they’re, uhm...” he struggles for an ‘academic’ sounding word, but settles for, “restrained, or not.”

Heat. Everywhere. There's heat everywhere and you immediately go back to the dishes, changing the flowing water to ice cold and ignoring the throbbing of your core. You’re pretty sure if you slipped your hands down your pants right now, they’d be just as wet as they are cleaning the mixing bowls. 

Maybe you should reschedule to 10. Or even 9:30. Hell, why not 9 while you’re thinking about it.

“Secondly, I like the muscles because they help me make great use of walls.”

You nearly drop the bowl in the sink, not having nearly enough time to recover before he’s looking at you again, sugar cookie filled baking pan in hand.

“You ever done something like that?” he asks, sly smirk visible. He’s trying to make light of the situation, make it a joke for the sake of comfortability.

He’s spilling ‘all’ his secrets, why shouldn’t you spill one.

The oven dings, signaling the preheating is complete and it’s ready for use. He comes closer to you, only because the oven is opposite the sink, puts them in and sets the oven’s timer for 12 minutes. Turning back around, he’s not two feet from you.

You force your voice to be as smooth and cool as possible as you face him, your own smirk plastered. 

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

Yes, yes he would.

“Call your goons in, I have their bags ready.”

“They’re not my goons,” Jungkook says, texting Shen, head of his security detail. “They’re my guards.”

You’re both finishing up cleaning the kitchen, all of the ingredients are put away, the dishes are cleaned, and Jungkook is washing down the counterspace as you write the names of everyone on the little bags filled with the results of your combined labours.

The coffee table is covered in little polaroids from today, all still resting from when they developed. Half of them have some form of baking related mess on them, be it some flour or a small lump of dough. 

You look at one he took after throwing more flour on you, your nose is scrunched and it looks like half your face is white with the stuff. It’s cute. There’s another beside it, Jungkook is pretending to lick raw batter from the whisk, eyes wide, tongue outstretched. It’s chaotic.

They’re perfect.

Shen, Dae-Seong, Asa, Rowan, Micah and Hikari are Jungkook’s security detail. They all have shared apartments in the same building. Never too far away. Shen and Asa are stationed on his floor, Mikah and Rowan are on the floor below and Dae-Seong and Hikari are on the one above. 

“Guards, goons, same difference,” you say, but you hear knocking not seconds later, no doubt Shen and Asa. 

You go and open the door, welcoming them in.

“Hey Y/N,” Asa says, scooping you up for a hug, your feet dangling. Asa’s one of the guards who’s super tall, and he’s always been very affectionate towards you. Come to think of it, a lot of them are. 

“Hey Asa, how’s Natalie?” you chuckle, hugging him back lightly. Natalie is his wife, who's still back in the capital.

“She’s good, excited to have me home soon.”

“No doubt, say hi for me.”

“Yeah, will do.”

He sets you down just in time for another knock. 

Rowan, Micah, Hikari and Dae-Seong all make their way in too, giving high fives, light hugs or happy greetings to you as they do. Soon, you’re being towered over by men, feeling very small, but never scared as they are always so lovely to you.

You suspect you’re quickly becoming their favourite. 

Jungkook they’re used to seeing, they’ve known him for years, protected him for years. They give him shit, a nod or grab him by the neck with their arms as they play wrestle to greet him. No hugs or high fives to be seen with him, only laughter. Mostly at Jungkook. 

When they’re around, Jungkook is the most at ease you’ve ever seen him at. 

“So what’s up?” Shen asks. He’s the least affectionate out of everyone, stoic even, but that doesn’t surprise you. He’s responsible for the safety of the future monarch, that’s a stressful job.

You look to Jungkook, who’s now sitting on the couch. He signals with a hand that this is all you.

“I don’t know if you all celebrate, but just in case you do, Jungkook and I spent the day baking,” Rowan snorts at that, and you ignore it, motioning for them to follow you to the kitchen. The island carrying their individually labeled goody bags comes into their view.

“And this is just a little thank you for all you do from the jackass in the other room,” you point with a thumb to the wall the couch is on the other side of. The men snicker. 

“I heard that,” Jungkook calls.

“You were supposed to,” you call back, then to the group once more, “and it’s also a Happy Solstice from me.”

Rowan and Asa are still laughing at your less than kind words about their charge as you begin to hand them their bags. Each one says thank you as you do, and Asa gives you another hug. He may be 6’4 and god knows how many pounds, but really, he was just a big teddy bear—a lethal one— but cuddly nonetheless.

“We’ve got a decent selection, but feel free to trade,” you say, giving Shen his bag last. He has a thing with going last, you have no idea why, but you respect it. You whisper to him that he has an extra of each cookie, and not to tell the others, including Jungkook. He gives you the absolute smallest of small smiles, followed by a hushed ‘thank you.’

It’s the most tender you’ve ever seen him.

Micah pipes up. “What’s this one?” he asks, holding up a cookie.

“So, we’ve got gingerbread, maejakgwa, sugar cookies, shortbread and that, my dearest Micah,” the mountain of a man blushes at that, and you laugh, “is a yakgwa cookie. Think chewy honey and ginger.”

He pops it into his mouth instantly and you swear if he could, he’d melt into a puddle. 

“There’s no way King Pain in the Ass over there made these, they’re way too good,” Hikari says, on his third one. He seems to be trying one of each, seeing which he likes. So far? Apparently it’s all of them.

“Cross my heart,” you say, “it was a gallant team effort.”

“Thanks kid,” he calls to the prince, currently entering the room to see his guards happier than he has in a very long time. He will never admit it out loud, for fear of endless mocking, but the sight warms his heart.

Dae-Seong comes up to you, and very politely asks, “Could I get the recipe you used for the maejakgwa? My wife would love these.”

“Of course, Dae-Seong,” you place a kind hand on his forearm. “Give Minji my best will you?”

The man nods, grateful. 

All the recipes today were from your memory, so you get your phone, and start typing it out. 

You have him text it to himself from your phone when you’re finished, and use that as your que to grab the camera.

“Everyone,” you call out, and immediately seven pairs of eyes, with seven full mouths beneath them, are looking at you. Jungkook’s eating some from his own stash, or so you hope. “Crowd your favourite royal on the couch please, it’s picture time.” You shake the camera gently in your hand.

“My favourite royal’s back at the pala–” Hikari tries, but a punch to the shoulder from Jungkook has him laughing in favour of completing the sentence. 

You love the relationship he has with them. Like brothers.

Quickly, Jungkook is squished between the six men, one on either side and four on the floor in front of him. They tried to fit more on the couch but they're all so big that they couldn’t.

“Everyone needs to smile, and if they don't, I'm taking more until they do,” you say pointedly, eyeing up Shen. He only nods that he understands.

“Say Solstice!”

A chorus of deep voiced ‘solstice's' ring your eyes as you look through the eyepiece and snap the picture. It prints out and you leave it with all the others on the coffee table. You see that everyone is smiling in the picture as it develops. 

Perfect. Everything about today has been perfect.

After a few more minutes of chatting, the guards have to get back to their posts, and you’re at the door, wishing everyone a happy break as they leave. 

Shen, as usual, hangs back, wanting to be the last to leave. He’s standing beside Jungkook, both watching you as you bid the others farewell. 

“I like her,” Shen says to Jungkook quietly. 

“Me too,” Jungkook says back. 

Shen can see the prince means that in more than one way.

“Keep her around.”

“I'm trying my best to.”

It’s nearing 7:30, you’re both full after ordering dinner in, not wanting to be anywhere near a kitchen until next week, and working on assignments. Jungkook’s editing some photos, and you’re writing part of an essay from your phone, having completely forgotten to bring your computer in all the excitement. 

“Hey,” you say, sitting in your spot on the couch. You nudge him with a socked foot, he has headphones on so he can focus.

He doesn’t look to you, but removes a headphone. “Yeah?”

You lock your phone, brain mush for the night. “Can we move movie night to tonight? I have an exam at 8am on Monday and I want to use tomorrow to study.”

You’ve been thinking about it for a while, deciding that today would let you know if you needed to make the switch or not. And given that you’ve spent the day on your feet and partially socializing, you doubt you’ll be able to focus for the rest of the night, exhausted. But the good kind of exhausted.

You’ve been taking better care of yourself since that day with Jungkook. Not drastically, but you’re starting to listen to your body’s signals a little more, and right now it’s telling you you need TV and sleep. 

Appointment be damned. You’ll reschedule.

Jungkook hits the space bar and removes his headphones before closing the computer. 

“Yeah, of course. But–” he cuts himself off, looking at the tree in front of him. The lights are low in the apartment and it’s dark out, so the tree shines, glowing from within. The picture of you two still sits in the middle, and the now multiple stacks of polaroids sit around its base like presents. 

“But?”

“But that means I won’t see you after today. I only have two exams left, Monday afternoon and Tuesday morning, then I’m back at the palace.”

Oh. 

Right.

“We don’t have to, I can just study earlier in the d-”

“No! No, it’s okay. It just…it changes a few things,” he bites his lip as he thinks, and places his computer on the coffee table. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes Picasso, please?”

You’re very confused but comply, closing your eyes and waiting. You hear him get up and then him walking, then a door opens. There’s some rummaging before the door closes and his footsteps near again.

The couch dips right beside you.

“Hold out your hands.”

You hold them both out, palms up, and something bumpy and cylindrical is placed in them. 

“Okay, open.”

In your hands is a leather rolling brush case, held shut by not only matching leather strings, but a red ribbon and bow. 

“Oh,” you didn’t know you were doing gifts. “Jungkook. It’s—it’s beautiful.”

“Open it.”

You untie the ribbon, setting it to the side as you also untie the leather strings, and unroll. The case is filled with brushes from Olliveri and Schultz, the best brush makers in the realm. And a small, very surprised gasp escapes you. 

You’ve never once owned any of their products. Their brushes go for $50 at the lowest, for the smallest of brushes.  

Exquisite craftsmanship goes into each and every brush, hand carved wooden handles, the best bristles you can buy, and rust resistant ferrule. You’ve always dreamed of having one of their brushes, and now here you are, with a whole set.

They’re the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

“Jungkook I—I don’t know what to say. I couldn’t possibly acce-”

“Yes you can. You can and you will. Please. I even made sure they put in an extra fan brush cuz it’s your favourite.” 

You notice the two brushes on the end, identical. 

He remembered. 

A lump is forming in your throat, overwhelmed with gratitude.

“I haven’t—I don’t—,” you take a breath, “I didn’t get you a gift, though.”

“Today was gift enough,” he says, and you can see in his eyes he means every word. “I haven't had a solstice like this in…a really long time, and the memories from today are enough, more than enough. I promise.”

You don’t know what to say, you haven’t been at this much of a loss for words since…ever. You can only think of one thing to convey how thankful you are.

Throwing your arms around his shoulders, you squeeze, his arms immediately around your waist. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, “I love them.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath too, savouring this moment for as long as he can. The feel of your arms around him, squeezing. The soft curve of your body up against his. His hands on your waist, you’re warmth under his touch, or maybe that was him, he can’t tell. And he doesn’t care. 

 It’s the first time you’ve ever initiated physical contact that was more than a nudge or playful shove. 

“You’re welcome, YN. Happy Solstice.” 

Chapter Ten: TBR

A/N 2: Fun fact! The tree and tin foil star are based on what I do irl. I have a dollarstore tree with little baubles and lights, but I made the star from a cereal box and tin foil because there weren't any toppers when I bought it.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

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[lazilybeinglassie]

It's flawed, and I hate it (Beast Yeast Ep 7&8)

I think it's fair to say when it comes to the writing of Cookie Run Kingdom, it is not perfect. Nothing in life is. However, it's definitely been discussed in the circles I'm in that the best way to enjoy the story of the game is to just not think about it too hard and watch the fun and colorful commentary just sweep you off your feet.

Bless you localization people.

When the Third Anniversary introduced the beasts, there was quite a lot of hype around it. Especially around Shadow Milk. No surprise there though, considering this is the Discord/Bill Cipher of the cookie run franchise. Everyone loves those characters. And having him get his update on the Fourth Anniversary, before we met the rest of the beasts, was by all means really cool to have happen.

Yet this post I make here is not to discourage people from playing the game or saying they can't like this update. It's still a fun time. But the story in the latest episodes sadly left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I wanna at least touch on why it did. So be warned, this is probably gonna be the biggest hot take in recent days of the fandom.

Part 1: Manipulation 101

Mind games are difficult to write in general. Especially when you are writing a story that meant for a younger audience. Not only do you have to make sure the kids are following along with the tricks and lies, it also has to be entertaining enough that they can keep watching.

Cookie Run Kingdom definitely has had some decent moments of proper manipulation in it's previous stories before. Mozzarella in the Golden Cheese arc stands out the most right now. But it definitely did not shine for whoever wrote the Shadow Milk arc here. And it mainly has to do with how they made the characters stupid for no logical reason.

Like, White Lily literally follows the gang all the way to the front doors of the Spire, just to decide to turn back and not be in the rest of the episode because she felt like it. If you didn't want her in this adventure, you should have just had them give goodbyes back at the Faerie Kingdom at the start of the journey. It's nothing more than just pointless padding that could have been cut out. I'm honestly not sure why she was added here, it feels super pointless. And you can't call this Shdaow Milk tricking them into departing, cause there was barely an effort of manipulation that actually could be credited to him in that whole exchange with the old man.

I should be fair though, cause the rest of the main characters are just as stupid as she is when they start their journey. And yes, that is a proper complaint to make when it's established in story they know who they are facing. They verbalize many times that they know Shadow Milk is gonna be there, and they are well aware he is a manipulative bitch. They are aware. But they are all written to just . . . fall for the simplest of tricks. Inviting strangers to journey with them. Splitting up the party. SLEEPING IN ENEMY TERRITORY!

The issue remains that a lot of the manipulation doesn't feel rewarding because our heroes have been reduced unnaturally to fall for these tricks. Instead it gives off this artificial villain victory where it's never earned but handed on a silver platter. And it carries on into episode 8 as well, not just 7. And that episode is just a dragged on series of how many times can Shadow Milk use the same threat over and over again on Pure Vanilla Cookie.

Speaking of which-

Part 2: Dragging On Pointlessly

While episode 7 was a poor set up, episode 8 was like an unfinished draft they never completed. The pieces are there, and I adore what they did, but they each fell short in their respective areas.

I think I would specifically describe it all as anticlimactic.

The river being the prime example of this. Looking at how it was designed to be used to force Pure Vanilla to become Shadow Milk's servant/deciple, it really is shocking that it doesn't hold any importance to the story at all. Perhaps if PV's transformation into Truthless Recluse was tied into it, then it would have more weight, but that's just one idea I thought of.

They make it sound like it's this big event when it really doesn't change anything. PV doesn't even appear to be more loyal to Shadow Milk, he just still remains passively annoyed and resistant. Which is disappointing how they could have had more stakes to it to feel more intense.

Chess was a bit more satisfying with how it concludes itself with forcing Pure Vanilla to cheat the game and rely on tricks to beat Shadow Milk. It's a fine moment, golf clap.

That being said, it does start to wear thin that we have to watch Shadow Milk repeat his threats over and over again. By the time the final ultimatum is offered, the weight of it is no longer there. You can't expect different results from the same action like this. It's just not at all motivating or engaging as you keep doing it.

However, that wasn't really the lowest point for the whole update. I can forgive most of that. I can live with it. Cause out of everything I disliked in this update, there was one thing I hated more than all of that.

Part 3: . . . Friend? NEVER!

I had to sit with this one the most. Cause I understand it is there for a reason. Pure Vanilla Cookie's most famous character defining line is after all "any conflict can be resolved through conversation". For him to reach out to Shadow Milk is fully understandable and in character for him.

HOWEVER!

I do not like how the scene played out, even if it ended with Shadow Milk not redeemed.

Yes, I can agree on the idea he wanted to have someone suffer with him. I'm fine with that concept. Honestly, I like that angle. It's fun!

Yet as I look at the scene everytime, all I see is a moment of Devsis telling me "hey, he could be redeemed later on"

And I fucking hate it.

Redemption for a villain for me has two rules to it. First, it must make sense either in theme, character, or story. It doesn't have to be perfect, but it at least needs to feel fitting from what's been established so far. And of it contradicts any of those, then it will stick out like an uneven puzzle piece.

The second being that the chatacter being redeemed must express these traits-

1. Recognizing their wrong doings as bad.

2. Regret doing those wrong doings.

3. Desire a change within themselves.

Each of these are essential in that redemption arc. If they don't, then they are either still a villain, or just pacified (example Red Son from Lego Monkie Kid).

Shadow Milk Cookie fails these two rules. His character is a creature who finds enjoyment in the suffering of others. There's never been exceptions to his rules other than the other beasts. Even amongst his own minions, he is willing to harm them to ensure they won't fail again.

The conversation between Pure Vanilla and Shadow Milk, while sweet, is the most jarring moment ever. Not once does it at all feel built up to it, and most of it is designed for you to feel bad about this jester. In which I feel like the steps they took to get to this point were the wrong steps to take.

Granted, he does reject his proposal, but now that seed has been planted into the audience, and if they choose to nurture it, they will not have time to make it work. Because once they get to the last beast member, we will be seeing their arc ending in 2026. We won't get another year to flesh them out, there will be no more beast focused story telling.

I will not pretend to know what the end goal is. No one can. But I am all the more concerned if I will enjoy it. And it may be that I won't. Still, I know I will still give it a shot. Even as I sit in my corner and make my fanfics of what if scenarios. Cause I do still enjoy the spectacle of it all. And it's still always fun to see how the characters get even more quirky than before.

And with that, I end this hot take on a mid outro. Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.