#when i tell you i screamed @ that explanation

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: How to Escape a Kingdom || Silver

You get isekai’d as the heroine in a bad novel. The prince is awful. The villainess is worse. The only thing keeping you going is your gorgeous, tired fiancé, Silver.

Series Masterlist

You prided yourself on being a good friend. A great friend, even. The kind of friend who remembered birthdays, hyped up questionable outfit choices, and provided alibis without asking too many questions. But as you stared at the abomination that was your best friend’s first novel, you began to reconsider your life choices.

The book sat in your lap like a lead weight, its aggressively pastel cover mocking you with every passing second. You had read it. You had survived it. But at what cost?

It had started as a simple enough premise: Silver, Duke of the North, was engaged to the heroine. A heroine so naively pure that if someone told her oxygen was a scam, she’d hold her breath until she passed out. The main villains were the neglected fifth prince and his fiancée, the villainess.

The villainess wanted Silver, but Silver wanted nothing to do with her. The fifth prince wanted the heroine, but the heroine, lacking two functional brain cells to rub together, had no idea what was going on.

And then things went completely off the rails.

Somehow, in a sequence of events that you were still trying to understand, Silver got shipped off to an unwinnable war and promptly died. The villainess mysteriously vanished (???), and then—without explanation—the heroine and the prince got married. The end.

You closed the book with the slow, deliberate movements of someone trying not to hurl it through a window. You inhaled deeply. You exhaled through your nose like a dragon trying not to incinerate a village.

You placed the book on the table.

Then you pressed your forehead against the table and contemplated your existence.

Tomorrow, you had to meet your best friend. You had to look them in the eye and tell them what you thought. You had to lie. Or worse—tell the truth.

You did not want to do this.

You needed divine intervention. A bolt of lightning, a sudden coma, a wormhole opening up beneath your feet.

As you walked to their house the next day, still praying for salvation, the universe finally answered.

Unfortunately, it did so in the form of a feral, airborne raccoon.

You were minding your own business, walking past a trashcan, when—BAM. A raccoon launched itself at you with the force of a caffeinated cryptid. There was no warning. No time to react. Just a blur of fur and the sheer weight of your sins crashing into your face.

Startled, you screamed, stumbled, and in a tragic display of physics and poor life choices, tumbled backwards—directly into the trashcan.

The lid snapped shut.

You flailed. You kicked. You thought, Wow, this is really happening, huh?

Then, to add insult to injury, the trashcan began to roll.

With you inside it.

You careened down the street, a human burrito of garbage and regret, before hitting a curb at just the right angle to be yeeted violently into the air.

There was a moment—just a moment—where time slowed, and you thought, Well. At least I don’t have to tell them anymore.

You woke up with that distinct, gnawing feeling that something was off.

It wasn’t the usual I forgot to send an email kind of off. No, this was the I am in the wrong dimension kind of off.

First of all, the bed was too big. Not just luxurious hotel big, but dear God, am I a Victorian orphan who got adopted by a morally gray billionaire? big.

Second, the air smelled clean. Not the comforting, familiar scent of your slightly questionable apartment, where the air carried the faint traces of instant ramen and the existential despair of adulthood.

Third—why was there noise?

You lived alone. The only other living creature that occasionally graced your presence was that one cockroach you had an unspoken truce with. So unless Mr. Roach had recently acquired sentience and thrown himself a rager, someone else was here.

Panic kicked in. You bolted upright, turned your head—this was absolutely not your home.

The walls were pristine. The curtains looked expensive. There was a vanity table. The entire place screamed old money, like the kind of place where people casually owned oil paintings of their ancestors who may or may not have committed tax fraud.

You shot out of bed so fast you nearly concussed yourself on the nearest piece of furniture. Your feet hit the floor. You sprinted to the mirror, skidded to a stop, and—

Oh.

Oh no.

Staring back at you was a person. A person you knew. A person whose entire personality consisted of:

Being impossibly, devastatingly naïve.

Trusting people so fast she’d probably accept a drink labeled 'Not Poison' because "surely no one would lie about that."

Having the observational skills of a decorative cactus.

You were the heroine.

A low, horrified whimper escaped your throat. You sank to the floor, trembling hands pressing into your face.

This was a nightmare. A cruel joke. A divine punishment for every time you had talked smack about the heroine’s IQ in your past life.

The girl who had the critical thinking skills of a potato. The girl whose brain you had long suspected was running exclusively on the Baby Shark song on loop.

And now you were her.

You exhaled shakily, pressing your forehead against the cool floor.

You had survived death. You had defied the natural order.

And for what?

To be reincarnated as a human goldfish with no object permanence?

You were going to die.

Again.

Before you could shake your fist at the heavens and demand an explanation for your untimely demise (courtesy of an overly aggressive raccoon and an unfortunately placed trash can), you needed to do what all great strategists did when thrown into an unwinnable situation: panic internally while pretending you had a plan.

You knew this story. You knew its plot holes were deeper than a budget dungeon crawl, and its character motivations made less sense than a pigeon with a degree in economics. But you had an advantage—foreknowledge. And by the gods, you were going to use it.

The first step? Establishing yourself as Not an Idiot™.

The second step? Ensuring you did not, under any circumstances, end up falling for the fifth prince’s brand of bootleg romantic villainy.

The third step? Avoiding an untimely death like the last protagonist (RIP Silver, Duke of the North, gone but never forgotten).

With this sacred checklist in mind, you marched outside, determined to assert control over your fate—

—only to be immediately ambushed by a squadron of highly trained maids who descended upon you like a swarm of fabric-wielding locusts.

You barely had time to register their presence before you were stripped, perfumed, corseted, and shoved into an outfit so elaborate that it probably required its own construction permit. There were lace trimmings, unnecessary bows, and a pair of shoes so polished you could see your rapidly growing sense of existential dread reflected in them.

You were officially trapped in Victorian Dress-Up Hell.

And then, as if things couldn’t get worse, you were dragged straight to breakfast with your fiancé.

Now, normally, this would be the part where you started screaming. But then you remembered who your fiancé was.

Silver. Duke of the North. The only well-written character in the entire dumpster fire of a novel. A man of honor, competence, and stunning good looks.

Stunning good looks?

That was putting it lightly.

The moment you walked into the dining room, you had to physically stop yourself from gasping like some sort of Victorian maiden experiencing her first bout of hysteria.

Because dear gods above and below—how was he even prettier than his book illustration?!

This was unfair. Illegal. You wanted to file a formal complaint to whatever divine entity was responsible for sculpting this man.

His eyes were closed, silver lashes resting against his cheeks, and you thought—if Sleeping Beauty ever existed, this would be him. A prince of ethereal beauty, untouched by the sins of the world.

And then his eyes fluttered open, revealing a shade that can only be described as 'auroral', and you had to actively bite the inside of your cheek to avoid making a noise so embarrassing that you would have to immediately fake your own death to escape the consequences.

Silver, unaware of your minor cardiac event, blinked at you in mild surprise before rising to pull out your chair. Like a gentleman. Like a man raised with actual etiquette.

Oh. Oh, you were in danger.

Swallowing down the entirely inappropriate reaction threatening to burst forth, you sat down and focused on eating. Silver, as always, was polite and composed, and just when you thought you could make it through breakfast without incident—

He mentioned the prince and the villainess were visiting today.

You must have made a face because he immediately looked concerned. “Are you all right?” he asked. “You usually enjoy their visits.”

Ah. Right. The original heroine was an idiot who thought being terrorized by a manipulative prince with daddy issues and a deranged villainess was fun.

You plastered on your best "I am absolutely thrilled" smile and forced out a chipper, “I can’t wait.”

Silver, bless his soul, nodded.

Internally, you were already constructing an elaborate plan to ensure that the prince got the message loud and clear: you were NOT interested.

And if that involved metaphorically throwing him off a metaphorical cliff?

Well. You had no objections.

The moment the Fifth Prince and the Villainess walked into the room, you instinctively tightened your grip on Silver’s sleeve like a soldier preparing for war. Because that’s exactly what this was—a battle. A battle of wits, patience, and trying very hard not to start swinging the nearest porcelain teapot.

The prince, in all his bootleg Casanova glory, approached first, his slick hair practically radiating the arrogance of a man who had never been told “no” in his entire life. His regal posture was flawless, his smirk expertly practiced in front of a mirror for at least five hours a day, and his eyes held the glint of a man who truly believed women were won like prizes at a rigged carnival game.

He reached for your hand, expecting you to giggle like a brainless debutante and let him hold it for an amount of time that was definitely pushing social norms.

Instead, you gripped his hand like a corporate executive about to close a high-stakes business deal. One firm shake. Then, for good measure, you slapped him on the back with the solid force of a man congratulating his buddy on a promotion.

“Good to see you, pal,” you said, voice brimming with friendly aggression.

The prince, visibly malfunctioning, blinked. “I—”

But you were already moving, looping your arm through Silver’s and pressing close to his side like you were the world’s most affectionate barnacle.

Silver, bless his chivalrous heart, barely hesitated before holding your hand firmly in return, his grip warm and steady. You had to physically restrain yourself from letting out a deranged, victorious giggle at the look on the prince’s face. He was staring at your interlocked hands like someone had just stolen his dessert plate right in front of him.

Oh, what a shame. What a tragedy. You almost felt bad.

Almost.

Then came the villainess.

She strutted forward, all sharp smiles and predatory grace, her heavily perfumed presence announcing itself like a nuclear bomb made of floral overkill. Without hesitation, she reached for Silver’s arm, her movements slow, deliberate—

Silver, in response, immediately took a step back like she had just pulled out a vial labeled “Highly Contagious Disease—Do Not Touch.”

You had never respected a man more in your life.

With the efficiency of someone handling a customer complaint, you smoothly stepped between them and took her hand instead. One quick shake—firm, professional, just detached enough to say I acknowledge you exist but not in any way that brings me joy.

She stared at you, visibly seething, like a cat that had just been denied access to the good couch.

Behind you, Silver sighed in such obvious relief that you were pretty sure you just secured a place in his will.

Tea time was, predictably, a disaster.

The prince kept attempting to flirt with you, hitting you with lines so cringeworthy that they could legally be classified as psychological warfare. Every time he tried, you shot him down with the efficiency of a seasoned HR manager rejecting an office romance scandal.

Meanwhile, the villainess was shamelessly trying to touch Silver, leaning in with the dramatic flair of a woman in a period drama who had just found out she had two months to live. Silver, for his part, looked two seconds away from either falling asleep or astral projecting out of sheer discomfort.

By the time they finally left, you had experienced the emotional equivalent of running a full marathon while being chased by geese.

Silver, apparently just as exhausted, slumped onto you like a marionette whose strings had just been brutally severed.

You sat there, unmoving, staring at the top of his head like you had just been gifted an extremely delicate and beautiful artifact. His silver hair was soft, his breathing slow and steady, and—

Oh. You were in danger again.

Future plans. Right. Focus.

You sat there, contemplating your next move like a war general preparing for battle. Clearly, Operation I Am Not Interested, Your Highness was off to a strong start. But you needed a long-term strategy. A game plan. A—

Silver stirred.

You glanced down, just in time to see his eyes flutter open, confusion evident in the soft furrow of his brow. Then he blinked. Looked around. Realized he was half-sprawled across your lap.

A deep red blush spread across his face like ink soaking into parchment. “I—I’m so sorry—”

You, feeling absolutely no shame about using this opportunity to appreciate just how stunning this man was, smiled. “It’s okay.”

Silver looked like he wanted to sink into the floor and never return.

And as you gazed at him—this rare creature of beauty and genuine kindness, blushing like he was the maiden in distress—you thought, It has to be illegal to be this pretty AND nice.

And then, in true romantic fashion, you immediately started plotting ways to keep him as far away from the main plot as possible

You had, to put it simply, absolutely nothing to do.

After successfully fending off the Fifth Prince’s attempts at romance and blocking the Villainess like a medieval goalie, your schedule was depressingly empty. No political meetings. No noble drama. Just you, a very comfortable chair, and the creeping existential dread of living inside a book with a plot so brain-cell-depleting that it should come with a warning label.

So, naturally, you decided to go watch Silver train.

And damn.

You thought you were prepared. You really did. But watching Silver train was a completely different beast from reading about it in the novel.

The way his sword cut through the air? Poetry.

The way his muscles flexed as he parried and countered? Divine artistry.

The way he casually knocked his opponents to the ground while offering them helpful advice like, “You left your right side open. Try shifting your stance” as if he hadn’t just folded them like cheap laundry? Criminal.

You found yourself wishing for one of those tiny opera glasses so you could watch this in HD. Maybe even a chaise lounge so you could dramatically swoon at the appropriate moments.

But you settled for the next best thing—sitting with a cold bottle of water, pretending you weren’t staring at him like an awestruck peasant witnessing a deity descend from the heavens.

Silver eventually noticed your presence and, being the kind soul that he was, immediately came over. Probably to check if you were in distress because, let’s be honest, the original heroine never did anything without needing someone’s help five minutes later.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, eyes filled with genuine concern.

You blinked. “Nope. Just brought you this.”

You handed him the water, and— oh. Oh, wow. Was he blushing?

“I—thank you,” Silver said, taking the bottle with a kind of stunned hesitation, as if no one had ever done something nice for him before. Which, honestly, in this novel? Entirely possible.

“Well, since you’re bored,” he continued, after taking a drink, “would you like to take a walk around town?”

You nodded. Because, really, what else were you going to do? Stare at a wall? Accidentally trigger a romance flag with the prince by breathing in his general direction? No, thank you.

The town was bustling. People were selling overpriced trinkets, children were running around with the manic energy of creatures that had never paid taxes, and the smell of fresh bread filled the air.

You were browsing a suspiciously glittery hat stall when you saw it—a tiny fortune-telling booth, tucked between a bakery and a store selling the kind of weapons that definitely weren’t legally registered.

“Want to check that out?” you asked Silver, jerking your head toward the booth.

Silver, because he was down for anything as long as it didn’t involve unnecessary drama, nodded.

The fortune teller was exactly what you expected. Mysterious robes? Check. Hood obscuring half their face? Check. A table full of random, ominous objects? Check. A single, gnarled hand that slowly reached out the moment you sat down? Horrifying, but also check.

“Your fate is… twisting.” The fortune teller’s voice was dramatic, like they got paid per cryptic sentence. “You must learn to change your destiny. And… most importantly… you must learn how to say no.”

You and Silver exchanged looks.

“…Huh?”

The fortune teller did not elaborate. They simply leaned back, looking entirely too pleased with themselves.

Well. That was unhelpful.

You both stood up, ready to leave when—

“Oh,” the fortune teller added, just as you were stepping out. “Good luck with your romance.”

You and Silver froze.

The air became so thick with tension that you could probably cut it with one of the overpriced swords from earlier.

Neither of you spoke. Neither of you made eye contact.

Silver, visibly flustered, stared very hard at a distant fruit stand.

You, on the other hand, suddenly found a deep, profound interest in the cobblestone street, as if it held the answers to life’s mysteries.

The entire walk home was excruciating. Not because of anything bad—no, because your brains were both melting from sheer secondhand embarrassment.

Every time your hands almost brushed, one of you would jolt like you’d been electrocuted.

At one point, Silver cleared his throat awkwardly.

At another, you tripped on absolutely nothing and had to pretend it didn’t happen.

By the time you got back, you were convinced that the fortune teller wasn’t actually magical, just a professional-level troll who lived for drama.

And you, unfortunately, had walked straight into it.

It was a perfectly peaceful day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and for once, you weren’t being subjected to the medieval drama equivalent of a telenovela.

So, naturally, fate decided to drop-kick that peace into the sun.

One moment, you were lounging in the garden, enjoying the fleeting calm, and the next—

A shadow descended upon you. Something small, fast, and full of chaotic energy launched itself from the goddamn sky.

You barely had time to react before you were two inches away from seeing God again.

By some miracle (or the sheer will of your survival instincts), you managed to not die as a tiny, incredibly energetic man landed in front of you, grinning like he hadn’t just almost assassinated you with his entrance.

“Oops!” he chirped, not looking apologetic at all. “Did I scare you?”

Scare you? Sir, you had aged ten years and seen your life flash before your eyes like a badly edited PowerPoint presentation.

“Who—” you gasped, still processing your near-death experience, “—who are you?”

The menace placed a hand on his chest, dramatic as hell. “Nice to meet you, future daughter-in-law!”

Oh. Oh.

So this was Silver’s dad.

You had to take a moment. Because one—this man did not look like anyone’s dad. He looked like someone’s mischievous younger brother who steals your socks and sets them on fire for fun. And two—Silver was so calm and gentle and responsible.

How?

HOW DID THIS HAPPEN??

Genetics had to be playing 4D chess.

But you quickly discovered that while Lilia was absolutely, certifiably insane, he was also hilarious.

So, like any normal people, you both immediately started talking mad shit about the Fifth Prince and the Villainess.

“Can you believe,” you huffed, sipping your tea like an 18th-century noble gossiping at a ball, “that the Prince keeps trying to flirt with me in front of Silver? In public? With witnesses?”

Lilia cackled. “That boy has no shame. And his fiancée—gods above, she has the personality of a spoon.”

You nearly choked on your tea. “RIGHT?? And she keeps trying to touch Silver like he’s a limited-edition collectible.”

Lilia grinned. “Well, he is handsome.”

“Yeah, but he’s not touchable handsome. He’s look from afar and cry a little handsome.”

“Ah, so you cry when you look at him?”

“…I— I feel like I’m being entrapped by my own words.”

“What are you two talking about?”

You both turned to see Silver standing there, looking… confused.

You, ever the graceful conversationalist, froze like you had been caught committing treason.

Lilia, on the other hand, looked positively delighted.

“Oh, just talking about our beloved Crown Prince,” he said, tone dripping with sarcasm so thick you could butter toast with it.

Silver blinked. His eyes slowly drifted to you.

You cleared your throat. “Yeah. Your dad and I were just bonding over our deep, mutual hatred.”

There was a pause. And then—

Silver smiled.

Not just any smile. A pleased smile. The kind of smile you’d expect from a man who just found out his worst enemy stepped on a rake.

Which. Well.

Considering the Crown Prince was his worst enemy, that checked out.

Unfortunately, the moment of camaraderie didn’t last.

Because Lilia, with the delight of someone about to ruin your entire month, dropped a bombshell.

“Oh, by the way,” he said casually, like he wasn’t about to wreck your day, “war is brewing. The Prince wants Silver to go to the front lines.”

You stopped breathing.

Your blood turned to ice.

The original heroine had been all for it—saying some nonsense about how it was the right thing to do and how Silver should go save lives.

You?

You were NOT that kind of saint.

You were going to beg.

You were going to grovel.

You were going to throw yourself onto the ground like a soccer player faking an injury if you had to.

Silver was NOT going to war.

Lilia was watching you now, a knowing smile on his face.

You were too busy plotting your fiancé’s survival to care.

You had barely finished your morning tea when trouble arrived at your doorstep, wrapped in a cloak of audacity and bad financial decisions.

See, apparently, the previous owner of your body had the charitable sense of a malfunctioning Roomba. She’d give money to anything that sounded remotely good. Orphanage? Sure! Rehabilitation center? Fantastic! An organization claiming to rescue drowning fish? Take all of it.

And now, since you had not been throwing bags of gold at questionable "charities" like a medieval Jeff Bezos with a conscience, someone had come personally to shake you down.

The man standing in front of you was the exact type of person who looked like he belonged in a back alley deal gone wrong. He had the thin mustache of a man who thought twirling it made him look menacing and the beady eyes of someone who’d absolutely try to sell you "magic beans" at a 500% markup.

"You!" he sneered, pointing a bony finger at you like he was about to curse your entire bloodline. "Why have you ceased your donations to the Sacred Order of the Benevolent Fish Saviors? Do you not care for the plight of the aquatic brethren?"

You stared at him, unblinking.

“…Are you seriously trying to convince me that fish can drown?”

"The oceans are a dangerous place!" he snapped, voice thick with righteous fury. "Only the kindhearted can understand the delicate balance of aquatic life—”

"Alright, shut up." You pinched the bridge of your nose. "No more money. Get a real job. Touch some grass. Read a book that isn’t written by con artists."

You thought that would be the end of it. Oh, how wrong you were.

Because instead of groveling like any normal scam artist when their grift gets cut off, this man decided to take the most insane course of action possible—he lunged at you.

Now, let’s get one thing straight. You were ready to commit a crime. Your 4-inch heels were locked, loaded, and prepared to introduce themselves to his ribcage. But you didn’t even get the chance.

Because before you could react, something blurred at the edge of your vision—

CRACK.

The next thing you knew, the man was frozen in place, his wrist locked in an iron grip, and standing beside you was Silver.

Silver, who you hadn’t even noticed entering the room.

Silver, whose grip looked firm enough to end generations.

Silver, who just made a grown man sound like a dying accordion.

The scammer wheezed, his face rapidly losing color as he tried and failed to wrench himself free.

Silver’s expression? Calm. Unbothered. Serene, even. Like he hadn’t just manhandled this guy into an early retirement.

“…I’d appreciate it if you didn’t attack my fiancée,” Silver said, voice so polite that it somehow made everything ten times more terrifying.

You blinked. You could physically hear the bones in the scammer’s arm considering a career change.

Silver finally let go—shoving him toward the door like he was disposing of a particularly annoying mosquito. The man stumbled out, barely managing to stay upright, and within seconds, he was sprinting off the property like the devil himself was on his heels.

When Silver turned back to you, he looked almost sheepish. "…Sorry you had to see that," he murmured. "I don’t usually act like that in front of others."

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

Because what were you supposed to say to that?

“Oh no, Silver, that was awful. Truly terrible. In fact, I definitely did not find it insanely attractive when you nearly broke a man’s wrist for me.”

Yeah, no way in hell were you admitting that.

Instead, you just smiled, folding your hands neatly in front of you. "No, no, it’s fine. No need to apologize."

Silver still looked vaguely guilty. You, meanwhile, were trying very hard to resist the urge to start giggling like a schoolgirl.

Because holy shit.

Was it legal to be this attractive AND chivalrous?

If Silver kept this up, you were going to have a serious problem.

The ball was grand, elegant, and, most importantly, the single biggest waste of your time since you once spent two hours watching a documentary about the history of forks.

You had already resigned yourself to being bored out of your mind when Lilia swooped in like the guardian angel you never asked for and dragged you to a shadowy corner of the ballroom. This was, according to him, the best place to engage in the most sacred of all noble pastimes—people-watching and ruthless judgment.

And what a show it was.

"Oh, oh, look at that one!" Lilia cackled, nearly doubling over as he pointed at a woman who had, in a bold and truly ill-advised move, decided to wear a dress that looked like a monochrome cake. "She looks like she repurposed a funeral veil!"

You took a sip of your drink and nearly spit it out. "Lilia, that dress has committed war crimes against fashion."

"The ruffles! The sleeves! It’s like someone asked themselves, ‘How do I make this look as unflattering as possible?’ and then succeeded beyond their wildest dreams," he added.

You continued this noble pursuit for a solid fifteen minutes, giggling over outfits that defied both reason and taste. The two of you had just started critiquing a man who looked like he had raided a circus wardrobe when your night took a dramatic turn for the worse. The prince—His Royal Unwantedness—had spotted you.

You watched in horror as he began striding over, each step dripping with the unearned confidence of a man who had never been told "absolutely not" in his entire life except by his father. This was a man who probably thought women fainted at the mere sight of him when, in reality, they were most likely collapsing from secondhand embarrassment.

Lilia’s expression shifted instantly. The usual mischievous twinkle in his eyes vanished, replaced by something cold and sharp. He looked ready to commit several crimes, and you were tempted to let him.

But no. You were mature. You were reasonable. You were absolutely about to handle this like a professional.

So you winked at Lilia and whispered, "Relax. I got this."

The prince didn’t bother with pleasantries when he arrived, because of course he didn’t. "Dance with me," he said, because why waste time on politeness when you can just issue demands like a badly written romance villain?

You took his hand with a practiced, polite smile. "Of course, Your Highness," you said sweetly, the verbal equivalent of setting a trap and waiting for him to fall right in.

The dance started off normally enough. The prince led you across the ballroom, his movements controlled and graceful. Unfortunately, any illusion of elegance was immediately ruined by the fact that he would not stop staring at you. Not in the way Silver did, all soft and careful, but like he was trying to figure out if you were edible.

"You seem different tonight," he said, voice oozing with forced charm. "More… confident."

You forced out a laugh that you hoped conveyed the exact right amount of fake amusement. "And you seem exactly the same, Your Highness."

If he noticed the insult, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he pulled you just a little closer. That was his first mistake.

His second mistake came when his hand decided to wander lower than what was remotely appropriate.

Your reaction was immediate. You didn’t even think—your knee just shot up with the force of divine judgment.

And oh, what a glorious moment it was.

The prince let out a strangled sound somewhere between a dying peacock and a man realizing all his hopes and dreams had just been shattered. He crumpled like a marionette with cut strings, collapsing into himself as the entire ballroom fell into stunned silence.

For one perfect, breathtaking moment, nobody spoke.

Then you gasped dramatically, placing a delicate hand over your mouth like the very picture of innocent devastation. "Oh my goodness!" you exclaimed, voice laced with the perfect amount of fake concern. "I was simply startled when you touched me there! I had no idea you were so close!"

The Empress, who had been watching this whole scene unfold with the same expression one might wear when realizing their soup had a cockroach in it, took a single look at her son, let out a long, exhausted sigh, and then turned on her heel and left the ballroom. She didn’t even glance back.

Somewhere behind you, Lilia was laughing so hard he had to physically clutch a pillar for support.

Before you could bask in your triumph, a warm, familiar presence appeared at your side.

Silver.

"Are you alright?" he asked, voice quiet but firm.

You nodded, still recovering from the sheer joy of watching the prince—His Royal Lowness— collapse like a sandcastle at high tide. "I’m fine," you assured him.

Silver, ever thorough, scanned you with a careful gaze, double-checking for any signs of distress. Apparently satisfied, he slowly turned his attention to the prince, who was still on the floor making noises that sounded vaguely like whimpering.

Silver’s face remained neutral, but the sheer force of his glare was something otherworldly. You were surprised the prince hadn’t just spontaneously combusted on the spot.

Lilia sauntered up beside you and, with the most casual nonchalance in the world, lifted his hand and gave you a perfectly subtle high-five.

Falling in love with Silver was not something you had planned for. It wasn’t even something you had remotely considered, because falling for a fictional character—even one brought to life by the absurdity of your existence—was stupid.

And yet, here you were. Doomed.

It had started subtly, like a slow-acting poison. You’d watch him train and catch yourself admiring the way he moved, graceful and disciplined, like a warrior from some epic tale.

Then it got worse. A white bunny hopping through the garden? That looks like Silver. A particularly stunning sunset, lilac and soft? Those are Silver’s eyes. A suspiciously sharp knife on the dinner table? Silver has a sharp sword.

There was no escape. The entire world had transformed into a living scrapbook of Silver-Themed Hallucinations, and it was ruining you.

You couldn’t sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, there he was—standing under the moonlight, holding your hand, looking at you like you were something precious. It was unbearable.

Which brought you to now.

You were sitting at a tea party, drowning in a state of sleep deprivation so severe that you were genuinely considering just face-planting into your teacup and accepting whatever fate awaited you. The sunlight was too bright, the air was too floral, and the pastries tasted like nothing. Everything sucked.

And then, because the universe hated you, the villainess approached.

She had the smug, self-satisfied look of someone who had never had a single original thought in her life. "Oh dear," she said, voice dripping with saccharine mockery, "you look absolutely dreadful today. Has your precious Duke been keeping you up all night?"

Usually, you would have handled this with grace. A snide remark, a well-placed jab, maybe even an eyeroll so dramatic it would have sent you into another timeline.

But not today.

Today, you were tired.

Today, you were grappling with a full-scale emotional crisis.

Today, you had reached your limit.

So, instead of responding like a rational, civilized person, you calmly reached for the nearest cup of juice, lifted it with all the dignity of a noblewoman, and threw it directly at her face.

The liquid splashed over her dress, staining the expensive fabric a deep, unforgiving red.

Silence. Absolute silence.

Her mouth opened, presumably to shriek, but you were not done.

Before she could get a word out, you grabbed her by the collar, yanking her forward so she could fully comprehend the depths of your unholy exhaustion.

"The next time you run your mouth," you said, voice dangerously low, "you might just end up meeting God."

Her eyes widened in pure, unfiltered terror.

Oh, but you weren’t finished. You gave her collar a final, dramatic tug. "And keep your hands off my fiancé."

Then, with the grandeur of a war general who had just claimed victory, you released her, turned on your heel, and stormed out.

Silver, who had witnessed everything, stared at you as though you had just set the entire kingdom on fire.

You grabbed his wrist, ignoring the way he flinched in bewilderment, and dragged him out with you.

You didn’t stop until you were safely inside the carriage, away from prying eyes, and only then did you collapse onto the seat, pressing your hands against your face.

Silver sat beside you, still looking utterly shell-shocked. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, clearly struggling to form a single coherent thought.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he slowly reached for your hand. His touch was warm, steady—like an anchor. "What’s wrong?" he asked softly.

And that was it. The last thread of your restraint snapped.

Before you could even think about stopping yourself, you turned to him, grabbed his face, and kissed him.

It was immediate. There was no hesitation, no moment of confusion. Silver kissed you back like he had been waiting for this his whole life. His hands moved to cradle your face, gentle but firm, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

You didn’t know how long it lasted—time had ceased to exist—but when you finally pulled away, your heart was a mess.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment crush you. "I love you," you admitted, voice raw. "And I have been suffering."

Silver’s eyes widened, but only for a moment. Then, with a sudden, almost breathless laugh, he leaned in again. "I love you too," he murmured against your lips, "so much."

And then he kissed you again.

Take that, villainess.

There were many things you did not want to deal with first thing in the morning.

A war? Absolutely not.

A war involving Silver? Somebody was going to die.

You groaned as you dragged yourself out of bed at the noise downstairs, feeling like a corpse being forced to participate in capitalism. You stomped downstairs, barely managing to keep yourself upright, and immediately regretted existing.

Silver was already in the living room, arms crossed, looking about two seconds away from snapping someone’s spine in half like a stale breadstick. Lilia, usually a walking cryptid with an unshakable grin, looked like he was holding back every unholy thought in his mind just for the sake of his son’s sanity.

And then. Them.

The Prince. The Villainess. The living embodiments of tax fraud and emotional instability.

Oh, hell no.

You grabbed the nearest maid, who was visibly vibrating with fear, and whispered, "What’s happening?"

She gulped. "T-The Prince is trying to send His Grace to lead the war."

Your soul ascended.

Your patience evaporated.

You had not suffered through an isekai, navigated 18th-century nonsense, and fallen head over heels for your incredibly hot and kind fiancé just for him to be thrown into a battlefield meat grinder because some discount royal didn’t want to risk his own cowardly neck.

You stormed across the room like a woman possessed, and the moment the Prince saw you, his whole face lit up—because he thought you were still the naive airhead he could manipulate into convincing Silver to go die for him.

The Villainess, however? She shrank back immediately.

Maybe it was the murderous glare you were directing at them. Maybe it was because she had witnessed your unhinged wrath firsthand. Maybe it was because deep down, she understood that she was in the presence of a feral raccoon of a person who had already died once and had nothing left to lose.

The Prince reached out to touch your shoulder as if he could physically weasel you onto his side.

Big mistake.

You swatted his hand away so hard you nearly dislocated his wrist.

"No," you said, voice dripping with finality.

The Prince blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"Silver’s not going to war." You looked him dead in the eyes. "Try someone else."

Silence.

The Prince’s face twisted into a diplomatic smile. "But, my dear—"

"Do I look like your dear?" You took a step forward, forcing him back. "Silver already said no. The Emperor didn't send a decree, which means you’re just trying to shove him in front of your responsibilities, aren’t you?"

His jaw clenched. "That’s not—"

"Oh, but it is," you cut in, grinning like a predator who just found dinner. "If you need a sacrifice so badly, why not lead the war yourself? Oh, wait—you’re scared." You tilted your head. "Why should Silver go fight and die in your place? What do you contribute to this kingdom besides being the reason the Empress probably drinks herself to sleep?"

Lilia let out a choked laugh. Silver covered his mouth to hide his amusement. The Villainess looked like she wanted to phase out of existence.

"How dare you!" The Prince seethed, looking like a child whose toy had been taken away.

"How dare you?" you mimicked back, voice laced with venomous mockery. "Seriously, just die already. It’s called natural selection. Worms like you don’t deserve to keep reproducing and terrorizing the female population."

The Prince, red with humiliation and rage, looked like he wanted to lunge at you, but before he could humiliate himself further, he turned on his heel and stormed out.

The Villainess trailed after him, but not before giving you a look that was equal parts impressed and terrified.

As soon as they were gone, you turned to Silver and clapped your hands together.

"So," you said, still brimming with unholy energy. "Let’s get married."

Silver, who was still processing the apocalyptic verbal execution you had just delivered, blinked at you. "What?"

You nodded sagely. "Yeah. Immediately. Preferably before they try something else. Then we can go on a honeymoon somewhere far away from all this war nonsense."

Silver stared at you, beautifully confused. "...Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," you replied. "Pack your bags, babe, we’re getting hitched."

Silver, against all odds, smiled. And then, he agreed.

Lilia threw a celebratory punch in the air.

Congratulations. You’re planning a wedding now, baby!

Planning a wedding was supposed to be a stressful but joyous occasion.

Your reality? It was mostly just stress.

Between dodging passive-aggressive nobles, fending off suspiciously enthusiastic tailors, and ensuring that the wedding menu didn’t include anything remotely related to the Prince’s favorite foods out of sheer spite, you were running on fumes.

And that’s when Silver came to you, looking strangely hesitant.

Immediately, your brain went to worst-case scenarios.

Was he having doubts? Did he get conscripted behind your back? Was he about to pull a tragic self-sacrifice move that you’d have to thwart with unhinged levels of devotion and threats of arson?

"Can we talk?" he asked, his voice unsure.

You, in full fight-or-flight mode, clutched your chest. "Silver, if you’re about to say something stupid, I’m legally obligated to stop you."

His expression twitched, like he wasn’t sure whether to be exasperated or endeared. "It’s not stupid," he assured you. Then, after a pause, "I wanted to ask… do you like this country?"

You stared at him. Stared.

"Silver." You grabbed both his hands. "Are you joking?"

His gaze softened, but he stayed serious. "If you had the choice, would you leave?"

You blinked. "Why?"

Silver exhaled, his grip on your hands tightening just slightly. "Lilia and I… We lived somewhere else before we came here. I was thinking—if we left, we could live peacefully. Away from all this. We wouldn’t be nobility, but we wouldn’t have to deal with—" He gestured vaguely, as if trying to encompass the entire kingdom’s collective insanity.

And that’s when it hit you.

You could leave. You could actually escape.

You didn’t have to waste your life playing politics in a country where half the nobility was allergic to common sense. You didn’t have to pretend to care about court scandals that made your brain rot. You didn’t have to deal with war-hungry royals who had the intelligence of a damp sock.

You could take your hot, kind, sword-wielding fiancé and dip.

You could live a peaceful, quiet, cottagecore dream where your biggest concerns would be whether the goats ate your laundry or if Silver accidentally adopted another wild animal.

You gripped Silver’s hands so hard you nearly cut off circulation.

"Silver." Your voice shook with emotion. "I love you so much right now."

He blinked, startled by your intensity.

"I’m taking as much wealth as I can from this godforsaken kingdom," you declared, fully committed. "And then we’re running. We’ll live a cozy life, I’ll grow a garden, you can train without political idiots breathing down your neck, and we’ll be so disgustingly in love that Lilia will probably want to leave out of secondhand embarrassment."

Silver stared at you for a beat, lips parting slightly—before he suddenly let out a breathy laugh.

God, he was so beautiful when he smiled.

He cupped your cheek, gaze warm, and leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. It was soft, reverent, like he couldn’t believe this was real.

You melted, gripping his sleeve to keep yourself from combusting.

When he pulled away, he whispered, "Then that’s it. We’ll get married, and we’ll be free."

And that was that.

You were getting married and escaping these lunatics before they had the chance to retaliate.

Honestly? Best wedding gift ever.

Mornings in your new life were warm, lazy, and sweet— the kind of peace you never thought you’d get after surviving the absolute circus that was your past life.

You stretched with a yawn, shuffled into the kitchen, and started making breakfast. The house smelled of fresh bread, eggs, and domestic bliss.

And then, like clockwork, Silver appeared.

You weren’t sure if he was half-awake or just naturally this clingy, but the second he found you, he wrapped himself around you from behind. His arms encircled your waist, and he rested his chin on your shoulder, pressing a slow, sleepy kiss to your neck.

“Good morning,” he murmured against your skin, voice still husky with sleep.

Weak. You were weak.

“Silver,” you tried to scold, but it came out softer than intended.

He hummed, not moving, not even pretending to be helpful. His weight was solid, grounding, a warm anchor against your back.

"You are actively making this difficult," you sighed, flipping a pancake.

“Difficult to cook?” he asked, his lips brushing over your jaw.

“Difficult to live, Silver. How am I supposed to focus when you’re like this?”

He chuckled, pulling you impossibly closer. “I don’t see the problem.”

And this was your life now.

In the afternoons, Silver trained with Sebek, and you watched, entertained by their very specific brand of friendship.

Sebek was loud, passionate, and dedicated. Silver was calm, level-headed, and tired. Together, they created the strangest dynamic known to man.

“Silver, your form is slipping!” Sebek barked, nearly vibrating with intensity.

Silver deflected Sebek’s attack without even looking. “It’s fine.”

“It is NOT fine!” Sebek yelled, throwing himself forward with the fury of a man who took personal offense to subpar swordsmanship.

You sipped your drink, watching this unfold like it was a very dramatic stage play.

Eventually, Silver knocked Sebek’s sword from his hands with an effortless twist, and Sebek fell to his knees, gasping.

You clapped. “Wow. What a performance. I’d rate it a solid 8/10.”

Sebek looked offended. “8?! What was missing?!”

“More drama,” you said. “Maybe fake your death next time. Really sell the loss.”

Sebek narrowed his eyes, as if actually considering it. Oh no. What have you done?

Lilia showed up almost every day, either to offer unsolicited advice or to cause chaos. Sometimes, he brought Malleus.

You still hadn’t fully recovered from realizing that Malleus was the fae prince.

Today was no different. He arrived grinning, eyes full of mischief, which was already a sign of danger.

“So,” he started, dramatically leaning in. “Have you two considered… adopting a dragon?”

Silver blinked. You stared.

Malleus, sipping his tea beside him, nodded sagely. “It would be an honorable task.”

You set your cup down very, very slowly.

“I—what?” you asked, convinced you misheard.

“A dragon,” Lilia said, as if that explained everything. “You’re living in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nature, why not raise a baby dragon? Imagine the bond! The companionship! The chaos!”

Malleus actually looked excited. “I could grant you one from my own lineage.”

Silver looked at you, waiting for you to react.

You looked at Silver.

Then back at Malleus, a literal fae prince, who had just casually offered to gift you a baby dragon.

Sebek, in the corner, looked like he was about to faint.

“...You’re joking,” you said, voice dangerously neutral.

Lilia and Malleus just smiled.

You dragged your hands down your face. “I barely survived dealing with a corrupt kingdom, now you want me to raise a fire-breathing menace?”

“It wouldn’t breathe fire immediately,” Malleus assured.

“That is not the part I am concerned about.”

Silver, who had been quiet this whole time, actually seemed to be considering it.

You kicked his shin under the table.

He cleared his throat. “I think we should wait.”

Malleus sighed. Lilia just patted your back. “You’ll change your mind.”

Not likely.

But at night? It was just you and Silver.

After a long day of chaos and laughter, you’d collapse onto your shared bed, immediately melting into Silver’s embrace.

He kissed your forehead, soft, lingering. “Tired?”

You sighed happily, nuzzling into his warmth. “Mm. Just happy.”

His arms tightened around you, like he never wanted to let go.

And this was your life now.

Your old country was probably in flames, but who cared? You had love, friendship, and peace.

Silver smiled at you, soft and content. And you thought, Yup. This is it.

Thank my best friend for writing this ridiculous, insane novel.

Who do you wanna see next?

Series Masterlist ; All Masterlists

[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."

[mnnuni]

Valentine's day

James Potter x Reader

Summary: James discovers Saint Valentine's day and does the most James things about it

Genre: fluff

Words: 1530

Warnings: nothing, lots of smiles

Author's note: I know I'm late for saint Valentine's -sorry- and maybe this is ugly, but whatever at this point

*gif and pics from Pinterest

*dividers of @saradika-graphics

"Okay" he took a breath in "now explain it another time"

This time Remus actually rolled his eyes and almost scoffed now : it was the fourth time that day already that he spelled out the story behind the celebration of Saint Valentine's day.

"Don't do this to me Moony, I want to make her something special" James was practically whining now, he was almost desperate -all for nothing, obviously-

Remus smiled sympathetically and put a hand on his shoulder "don't worry about the history and the meaning mate, just know that we use this day to celebrate the lovers", his face of almost-terror didn't change so Sirius -finally- jumped in the conversation "Just do what you're good at : be a loverboy"; they managed to share a laugh but James's head was running all around.

(Y/n) didn't say anything about Valentine's day to James, she knew that as a half-blood she had different traditions than the pureblood magic families and besides they weren't officially together, they were "just seeing eachother".

For everyone around them they could already have a child for all they'd known, not that they were so public about their relationship but their sentiments were so pure and visible that it was obvious even to the ghosts of the castle.

Nevertheless (Y/n) dreaded to spend the day with him : on Fridays they both had half the day free, so they always tried to spent most of it together.

Today (Y/n) hoped it was nothing different.

She was wrong.

The strange things started at breakfast when James didn't come down from Gryffindor tower, "he had to ask something about his paper to Minnie" said Peter when she asked why he wasn't there. "I'll see him in history of magic then", Lily who had the class with them instantly lowered her head to her plate and didn't say anything.

But that didn't mean anything, right?

(Y/n)'s suspicious were proven right when James didn't show up in history of magic and Lily refused to even approach the subject. The situation only got worse when James wasn't even at lunch; had something happen to him? She got so up in her head that she ran to check the infirmary ten minutes into the lunch. Madame Pomfrey tough told her he wasn't there.

(Y/n) was rather disappointed that James was apparently ignoring her, almost angry with him when she reached her dorm room. She threw herself on her bed and screamed in her pillow all the bad words she'd tell James if she had him in front of her. It took her too much time to realise that on her bedside table there was a red tulip and a note.

19;30

Whomping Willow

It's a date.

She tried to resist it, but a smile instantly crept up her face. It was automatic when James Potter was involved.

(Y/n) got up and started to prepare for this unexpected date. She really really tried to not overdo herself, because James truly got on her nerves today but it was so natural for her to commit with the best version of herself for James; he was a too caring boy to not influence the people around him to want to be good for him.

During her walk to the Whomping Willow she repeated in her head that he wanted to see her and surely had an explanation for his absence.

The moment (Y/n) saw him tough, she forgot everything and got distracted by the sparkle of his eyes. Her brain disconnected from her mouth and she was only able to yell "where the hell were you today?"

Sure was that James was startled by her reaction, "everything will be cleared up, sweetheart" he extended his hand to her "now, would you please follow me?"

Of course she would.

They didn't walk for long, and while they did James tried to distract her by describing to her every kind of tree they passed. When they arrived at a signed-with-an-x oak James made her stop and close her eyes.

"Why do I have to?"

"Because I'm asking you"

She scoffed but did it anyway.

James guided her another three or four steps ahead when he made her stop again and open her eyes.

(Y/n) was speechless.

Between two large trees there was a big mattress and an exaggerated amount of colorful pillows and blankets. The trees curved in a way to form an arch, as to protect the little space James created. All around that gash of forest they were surrounded by fairies and glow bugs. Above the mattress James managed to enchant a series of flowing notes to have music.

Everything was so romantic.

When (Y/n) turned to look at him James produced a basket from behind a bush and whispered "happy valentine's day".

"How do you know?"

He shrugged his shoulders and half grinned "i have my ways"

Remus, of course.

He invited her to have a seat on their make shift bed and she obliged, still smiling and looking all around.

"I made you a dinner-breakfast" he declared when he opened the basket and a delicious smell came from it. James put out warm pancakes with cream and lots of chocolate chips biscuits, he also had a big flagon of their favourite tea. (Y/n) watched him carefully position everything out for them and couldn't help but smile; she spent all day worrying and getting angry by his absence while he was preparing all this, just for her.

"Thank you" she suddenly said, and James was surprised about it -not because (Y/n) wasn't a grateful person but because he didn't do it to be praised about it, just because he wanted to make her happy-

(Y/n) reached for his hand and squeezed it, "you really didn't have to do this, but I love it"

James smiled one of his purest and warmest smiles. The one he reserved for the people he truly loved and he loved (Y/n) so much.

They ate almost everything, (Y/n) recalled her day to James and he talked to her about how he did everything he did to organise this beautiful set up.

"Sirius helped with the music and Peter with the cooking, you already gathered that Remus is the one to thank for all the Saint Valentine's day knowledge I have now; Lily hated lying to you, because we all know how she is when she lies but-"

James didn't realise it while he rambled but (Y/n) got every second that passed closer to him, to the point that she was brushing his nose with hers.

"James" she whispered to warn him of her presence and then she moved and kissed him.

He was the one stunned now.

He didn't know why, but he really wasn't expecting this.

Her lips were warm and her movements tentative, until James's brain started to function again and he kissed her back. He took her face in his hands and moved her closer, (Y/n) was smiling. When she pulled back she remained her forehead against his, she wanted to feel him all. After a moment or so of the two of them breathing in each other James asked a mere perceivable "why?", (Y/n) opened her eyes and looked him straight in his while finally confessing "I liked this very much, and I like you even more James Potter"

James was grinning so wide he made his dimple pop.

"Good" he decided and proceeded to make (Y/n) lay on her back on the mattress and kiss her until any of them two was at loss of oxygen.

It took him lots of kisses and pulled lips to finally realise, "oh my god, that was our first kiss".

His face was priceless.

(Y/n) chuckled, "yes James", she was playing with some strands of his hair and was looking at him with a kind of sweetness in her eyes James wasn't aware he was ready to see.

He straightened himself a little and tried not to make a face too worried, while he searched for the courage to talk again he started fidgeting with (Y/n)'s fingers. He opened his mouth once or twice, then finally "so what does that mean?"

Oh, James

"Well..." (Y/n) used her fingers to move his face towards her by the chin and smiled, "what do you want it to mean?"

He said the next words with a needing in his tone so touching that even the fairies around them would have reacted, "I really want to be with you"

(Y/n) couldn't understand the fear in his eyes, of course she wanted to be with him too. She just repeated him, "Good." and smiled wider than before.

James exhaled a breath he then called unnecessary and leaned in to kiss her again.

They fell asleep in the forest, tangled in their hugs.

The next day when they missed breakfast and returned to the common room laughing and touching each other every two steps, everyone of their friends had the same thought: "Finally".

Lily jumped to her feet to slap James on the back of his head, "that's for making me lie to her", everyone chuckled, even James, "well... it was worth it in the end".

[lemotmo]

💛

Q. I'm sorry your inbox was such a mess yesterday. I understand the need to block people after a while, but please don't close your inbox. Your blog and others really do provide a service for those of us who sometimes just require a little more explanation.

A. Hi, anon. Yesterday was a lot for my inbox. I had over a hundred messages and the vast majority were freakouts over an interview that just simply did not do anything to cause that kind of chaos. There was just no need for people to have spiraled like that. It was a really lovely interview and I was shocked by the amount of people who flat out missed everything he was saying, and then had the nerve to get upset at those of us they were asking for help from to try and understand it.

It is a given that there are going to be people upset about the direction the storyline appears to be going, that's true of anything people watch. But I am stunned by the number of people who genuinely seem to believe that they can just say 'no that's not what's happening because that's not how I interpret the scenes' and then have the audacity to say that everyone who is allowing the actual text to lead their opinions are simply bullying them. I had several messages yesterday accusing me of trying to bully people into agreeing with me because I refused to accept that everything is open for individual interpretation. That is simply false. It has never been true. Yes, people see things differently. And people can have differing opinions but when one side of the conversation is supported by the actual text and canon facts then that side is allowed to tell you your interpretation is not supported by what we're actually seeing. That's not bullying people. Of course people can choose to ignore what they're not enjoying but not liking it and deciding to ignore it doesn't stop it from being true. It's absolutely bonkers to me how many people keep saying things like 'it's not happening because none of them are saying outright this is the direction we're going'. That has never been something television shows do and it is beyond wild to me that there's a group of people screaming that if they don't say it out loud then we're just lying because we want it so badly. I have never encountered anything like this in all my years of fandom. There's always been antis. They exist in every fandom. There's always been people who watch and engage simply to hate on things. None of that is new but the amount of people who have convinced themselves outright that as long as they don't see it that way, or refuse to acknowledge it, means it's not happening, and everyone else has to agree with them or we're the actual problem, is absolutely wild to me. Everyone can have an opinion. You can believe what you want. But the truth will always be that the argument most supported by the actual text of something is the 'opinion' that's most likely the correct one. That doesn't make us bullies. We're not going from inbox to inbox yelling at people for refusing to acknowledge what were actually seeing on screen. People can pretend they don't see or understand something all they want. No one can prevent that. But if you're coming to ask us to explain something or help you understand why we're saying something and we offer you canon proof to back up what we're saying and you come back immediately after and argue that none of that means anything because Ryan didn't say Eddie is gay in and in love with Buck in an interview is a whole other level of insane. That's never been how any of this works. And what's even more wild is that most of you supposedly want them together so the fact that there's all this canon evidence to suggest that it's going to happen and you still want to find ways to yell that it's actually not happening is an exercise in self infected misery and I'm simply not going to help people do that anymore. I'm more than happy to explain things if I can to people who just genuinely need a little bit more help, that happens and that's fine. I'm more than happy and willing to do that. But going forward I will not be engaging with anyone being intentionally irrational and deliberately obtuse. I'm not doing that to myself anymore. It's been almost a year and I'm exhausted. What we've been getting is genuinely exciting and I want to enjoy it, all of it. Most of us do and we've earned the right to enjoy this. Come be part of the excitement if you want, but no one is forcing you to be here. We've reached the good place. Let us enjoy it, and let yourself enjoy it. I have no plans to close my inbox. I'm just going to stop answering certain things. Thank you for the lovely message, anon. I'm always happy to talk about it and them, to anyone who genuinely wants to talk. 🩷

Thank you Nonny!

Now to be completely clear here, the interview Ali is talking about in her answer is the Ryan interview. I got this post Friday morning, so this was pre Oliver's NBA celebrity interview.

Yes yes yes to all of this! I cannot agree more.

I don't really have anything to add here. Everything that needed to be said was said. I'm also at the point where I just want to enjoy the story we are getting. Join us!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[aroaceleovaldez]

Nico and Percy's dynamic through the series is eternally funny to me, because it's just. like.

Percy's having a constant mental struggle between his fatal flaw of loyalty with a promise he made to Bianca to protect Nico, versus his Big 3 kid desire to maim other Big 3 kids / Poseidon descendant urge to totally maim Nico specifically. He hates Nico so so much. He thinks Nico's annoying and weird at best, and creepy/sketchy when he's older. The only positive thoughts Percy has towards Nico are "He's Bianca's brother and Bianca was my friend and I owe her/He's Hazel's brother and Hazel is my friend and would kill me if I was mean to him," "He's a powerful asset and useful ally (if questionable)," and "He's kinda pathetic and I feel maybe a little bad about it." Percy has multiple occasions throughout the series where he strongly considers - and on one occasionally actually goes through with - throttling Nico.

Meanwhile, Nico is following around Percy like a lost puppy. He explicitly can never bring himself to even dislike anything about Percy no matter how hard he tries. He has a whole bit in BoO where he's mentally going "UGH he's so stupid BUT IT'S ENDEARING HOW DARE HE." He's totally smitten. He's making deals with his dad for Percy. He's making convoluted plans to help Percy stand a chance against Kronos. During the entirety of BoTL it's like he's playing tsundere - "I'm helping NOT PERCY SPECIFICALLY with this quest! Me helping Percy would be SILLY because I DEFINITELY HATE HIM." Then he proceeds to show up to Percy's birthday party to basically ask him on a weird date and spend the entire next book scrambling around trying to help him or protect him or impress him. And Percy could not give less of a shit.

Just. That dynamic is so funny to me. Percy is the founder of the Nico Protection Club in that he's the one they're all protecting Nico from and meanwhile Nico is throwing himself at Percy to the point where the literal god of gay love calls him out on it.

[ingravinoveritas]

Presented without comment: David calling himself Liberace in one of Georgia's "BAFTA blog" Insta stories yesterday...

[platinum-iridium]

abbie: "so when you told you psychiatrist you wanted to kill minorities, you meant it?"

cop: "i was going through a divorce"

[glowyfissh]

happy pride month just wanted to let you guys know my transgender awakening was angel dust from hazbin hotel

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Summoning Failed Successfully

Imagine a warehouse. Imagine a bunch of cultists in dark robes with all the candles, daggers, ancient books, and chanting. Now add Danny.

Only not as the summoned being, no. As a sacrifice.

He is sitting down, tied to a chair, in the middle of the summoning circle, looking as bored and deadpan as he can possibly be. The cultists are chanting, and he frowns, listening to their chants for a moment.

"Hey, is that Latin?" He questions, but to no avail, "You know you're not actually using those words correctly, right?"

"Keep quiet, child!" One of the cultists snaps. Danny leans back in his chair and shrugs.

"I'm just saying, you ain't summoning shit with wrong grammar," he huffs, seemingly absolutely nonchalant about the whole thing. Oracle, who is watching the whole ordeal through the surveillance cameras, raises her eyebrows. Red Robin and Robin are already en route to the building the cultists chose for their extracurricular activities, but now she almost wants to watch this a bit longer.

Gothamites are pretty used to all kinds of shitshows, but this boy is from out of town. She checked him through facial recognition. Daniel Fenton, a transfer student from Amity Park, Illinois.

A few more cultists stop chanting and turn to Danny.

"Do you know Latin?" One of them asks, and the boy makes a half-nod, making a thoughtful face.

"Not fluently, but, like, it's a dead language, I felt kinda obligated to learn it. Just for the meme, you know?" He chuckles.

The cultists, judging by their confused silence, don't know. Barbara doesn't know what he's talking about, either. But she is almost curious now, so she taps Robin's and RR's comm lines:

"RR, Robin, when you arrive, don't jump into the scene," she asks.

"Understood," Tim answers immediately, but Damian, of course, demands explanations:

"Is there an obstacle?"

"Not really," Barbara humms, "The sacrifice is in the process of de-escalating the situation."

She can almost hear the questioning silence over the comm, but, thankfully, no one argues. Meanwhile, one of the cultists pipes up, voice full of doubt:

"So, you can... like, proofread our incantation?"

"Yeah, sure," Danny nods, apparently fine with being sacrificed, "Who you're trying to summon anyway?"

"Satan," that same cultist answers, and Danny laughs approvingly.

"Classic," he nods and smiles, "I'll give you this. The circle is mostly alright, so you don't need an incantation to summon the fucker, I have him on speed dial." And with that, he leans forward, screaming towards the floor: "Ey, Satan!"

Barbara must say the act was actually convincing, but he went a little overboard with it now. She reaches to tell both Robins to get in, but suddenly, a loud, booming voice reverberates through the building.

"The fuck do you want, kid?"

Cultists fall to their knees - it doesn't seem like an act of worship, more like their knees bucking. The whole circle dimly lights up in red, smoke raising from it.

"Do you see this shit, Oracle?" Red Robin questions, and she mhm's at him, not sure what else to say. If this is still an act or a trick, she must say it's a very good one. Although somehow she suspects it's not a trick. She's seen enough magic in her life to tell the difference.

"Do you want to come to Earth, be gay and do crimes?" Danny asks, almost mockingly.

"Fuck off."

The red light flickers and disappears, and Danny looks back up to cultists, grinning cheerfully.

"Welp, looks like he doesn't wanna," the kid concludes and stands up from his chair. Barbara hadn't seen when or how he got out of his bindings.

The cultists just watch him walk out of the circle in bewilderment.

"Pursue?" Robin's voice comes over the comms, and Barbara thinks for a moment.

"I get a feeling like that's a bad idea," Tim mutters over his line.

Barbara agrees.

[noosayog]

[3:47 pm] ft miya osamu

wc: 700

--

When you slam open Atsumu’s bedroom door and plop yourself onto the carpet next to him, he barely looks up from his phone. 

“Ever heard of knocking?”

You lay belly down on the floor and scream into the worn fuzz of the carpet. 

“Gross. You know our bare, unwashed feet walk on this floor right?” 

He offers you a pillow and you take it, squishing it between the floor and your face. Atsumu waits for your breath to run out. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Atsumuuuuu…” you bemoan. “I’m going through a crisis.” 

He says nothing, continuing to scroll on his phone but you can tell you’ve garnered some of his interest. 

“I have a secret. Like one that I can’t tell anyone.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s so shameful. I’ve been keeping it to myself for, like, ever.”

“Yeah, I bet I couldn’t guess what it is.” The sarcasm is completely lost on you. 

“Yeah. You’d make fun of me. It’d be material for you to tease me for a lifetime,” you pause, take a deep breath. “I-

“-have a big fat crush on my brother?” 

You gape. “What?” 

He looks up from his phone. He blink at you, like you’re any simpleton. “You,” he says slowly, punctuating each word, ”have a big, fat, embarrassing, crutching, debilitating crush on my brother.” 

“I didn’t even realize you knew so many big words-”

“What?” 

The two of you freeze up. 

“‘Samu!” Atsumu exclaims. “Thought you weren’t gonna be back until later tonight.”

“I wasn’t.”

He gives no other explanation. You stay still, hoping that if you don’t move or breathe, he won’t notice you. The silence stretches.

“Ohhh.. kay. Well, I better go. You kids-”

You jolt awake at that, in disbelief that Atsumu would flee alone after what he’s done.

“I’ll go with!” You turn and run, making monumental efforts to avoid a dark eyes trained on you. 

You’re about to squeeze past when a hand slams against the doorframe, arm now blocking off your exit. Osamu stares hard at you while your gaze stays glued to the exit beyond, though it’s more like you’re staring at his bicep which is now stationed at your eye level. 

“I’m just gonna go…” you hear Atsumu mumble, ducking under Osamu’s arm barrier, stealing your escape route. 

“Jackass-” you mumble.

“Hey.” 

The low voice comes from right above your head.

“Osamu,” you greet, still staring at his arm. “I gotta go. I have plans-”

A finger comes up to lift your jaw. It’s careful, but still forceful. When your eyes finally meet his, the one finger turns into two which grip your chin in place. 

“Was what Atsumu said true?” 

It takes a lot for you to hold back a stutter. “Sounds like you heard him loud and clear to me,” you say, ready to slap his hand away. 

“I did.”

“Then why are you still asking-” 

“If it’s true,” he leans down, talking slowly. It makes you start to hyperventilate. You need a paper bag or something. “I don’t wanna hear it from my stupid brother.” 

His eyes are mesmerizing, captivating. Not even the many, many years of knowing him dulls the effect of his straightforward gaze on you. You think you hear someone concede, “it’s true.” 

“What’s true?” he whispers. He’s so close you feel his words ghost your mouth.

Autopilot talks. “That I have a big fat crush on you.” 

He eats up the next millimeter of space. 

“Yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.

Suddenly, his neck is caged inside of your arms and you’re licking up his familiar minty breath and surely this all isn’t your doing because your brain is still catching up. 

His smile widens against your lips and you can feel the smugness radiate off him. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have interrupted, then.” 

That clears the fog. You shove his shoulders away and try to ignore the fact that he doesn’t go very far.

“Why?” you demand. 

He kisses you again. “‘Cause my brother’s got a big mouth.” 

You tilt your head in confusion. Osamu takes it as an invitation to slot his face better against yours. 

His kiss almost makes you forget your train of thought, but that’s okay because he answers your question anyway. 

“And he probably would’ve blabbed that I have a big fat crush on you too.”

[woniedarlin]

XO,I'm Yours

pairing: Jungwon x fem! Reader

genre: XO, Kitty au

synopsis: Having a massive crush on Jungwon is tough. Every time he’s around, your brain malfunctions, and instead of acting normal, you… avoid him. He’s calm, chill, and entirely out of your league (at least, that’s what you tell yourself). Enter Kitty, the matchmaker, determined to make things happen. With her “help,” you find yourself in the most awkward yet heart-racing moments with Jungwon.

The worst part? Jungwon is noticing you now. And it’s making everything so much more complicated. But maybe… Kitty’s plan wasn’t so bad after all.

author's note: This was requested by @firstclassjaylee . Thank you for this idea!!! Please let me know the pronouns for the og XO Kitty characters! I wasn’t sure, so if I got them wrong, I’d happily change them immediately. Apologies in advance for not being able to mention all the characters. Happy reading!

caution: This fic contains extreme secondhand embarrassment and an excessive amount of Jungwon-induced butterflies. Read at your own risk!

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n

The plan was simple. Avoid Jungwon at all costs.

It wasn’t that he was mean. That was the problem. Jungwon was nice. The kind of nice that made your stomach do flips and made you feel like an idiot for getting so flustered over someone just existing. So, instead of embarrassing yourself, you settled for admiring him from afar. No eye contact. No unnecessary conversations. Easy.

At least, it was easy...until Kitty found out.

“You have a massive crush on him,” Kitty said one afternoon with her arms crossed.

“No, I don’t.” You knew lying was pointless, but still, you had to try.

Kitty gave you a look. “You walked into a door last week because he was standing near it.”

Your face burned. “That was an accident.”

“Sure,” she said unimpressed. “Look, lucky for you, I happen to be amazing at matchmaking. And I happen to have a plan.”

You blinked. “A plan?”

“Step one: Stop avoiding him.”

You immediately shook your head. “Absolutely not.”

“Too bad because I already started.”

Your stomach dropped. “Kitty. What did you do?”

She just grinned. “You’ll see.”

And just like that, your quiet little crush? It was about to become very complicated.

💌

You should have known Kitty wouldn’t waste any time. The very next day, you find yourself in an unavoidable situation.

It started in the Library. You had just settled in your usual corner, buried in a book, when Kitty slid into the seat across from you.

“What are you—”

“Shh.” She put a finger to her lips. “Just act natural.”

That’s when you saw him.

Jungwon.

He was scanning the shelves a few feet away, oblivious to how your entire body tensed at seeing him. Your brain screamed at you to run, but before you could, Kitty leaned in and whispered, “I told him you needed help with your econ homework.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “You did what?”

And right on cue, Jungwon turned, eyes landing on you.

“Hey,” he said as he was walking over.

Kitty beamed. “Perfect timing! She was saying how she’s completely lost in econ.”

You snapped your head toward her. Liar. You were literally top of the class.

Jungwon pulled out the chair beside you and sat down without hesitation. “I can help.”

You swallowed. Oh no.

Kitty’s grin was way too smug. “Great! I’ll leave you two to it.” Then, before you could protest, she was gone.

Leaving you. Alone. With Jungwon.

You looked down at your phone, noticing a message from Kitty

“You’re welcome ;)’’

💌

You tried to focus on Jungwon's explanation for the first few minutes. Really, you did.

But how were you supposed to concentrate when he was sitting this close?

He leaned over the table, pointing at your textbook, his voice steady as he explained some economic theory. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but in reality, your brain was short-circuiting.

“Does that make sense?” he asked, turning to look at you.

You blinked. “Huh?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t listening, were you?”

Your face heated. “I was! Kind of. Maybe.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re bad at lying.”

You groaned, then covered your face. “This is embarrassing.”

“Why?” He tilted his head. “It’s just me.”

Exactly.

It was just him. Just Jungwon, who you had spent months avoiding because he made you feel like a walking disaster. But he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed amused.

“I don’t bite, you know,” he said. “You don’t have to be scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of you,” you blurted out.

He smirked. “So you’ve just been avoiding me for fun?”

You clamped your mouth shut.

Jungwon leaned back in his chair, watching you with a knowing look. “Huh.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” His smirk deepened. “You’re interesting.”

Your stomach did a backflip.

Oh, you were so doomed.

Later that night, Kitty found you in your dorm room, looking too pleased with herself.

“So?” she asked, flopping onto your bed. “How did it go?”

You groaned. “I made a fool of myself.”

Kitty laughed. “Define ‘fool.’”

“I blanked out. He caught me staring. I admitted to avoiding him. And he called me interesting.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait. He called you interesting?”

You nodded miserably.

Kitty squealed. “That’s huge!”

You frowned. “How is that huge?”

“Because Jungwon doesn’t just call people interesting, my dear hopeless friend. You caught his attention.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You think?”

“I know.” Kitty grinned. “And trust me, this is only the beginning.”

You groaned again, flopping face-first onto your pillow.

Kitty just laughed.

After all, the matchmaking had only just begun.

💌

“Okay,” Kitty clapped her hands, grinning as she stared at you. “Today’s the day we level you up.”

You blinked and were confused. “Level me up?”

“Yes! You like Jungwon, but you get all shy and awkward around him,” she pointed out. “So, if you want him to notice you, we must work on your confidence.”

You groaned, already feeling embarrassed. “Kitty, this is so unnecessary.”

Kitty ignored you and stepped forward. “First lesson: Posture! Stand straight, shoulders back. Confidence comes from the way you carry yourself.”

You hesitated before adjusting yourself, trying to mimic the way she stood. “Like this?”

Kitty nodded. “Good. Now, when you see Jungwon, don’t look away all nervous. Hold eye contact. Make him feel like he’s the only person in the room.”

You gulped. “The only person in the room? Kitty, I can’t even look at him for three seconds without feeling like I’m about to pass out.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s exactly why we’re practicing! Here, pretend I’m Jungwon.”

You stared at her. “Kitty, this is weird.”

“Do it!” she urged.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly raised your head, looking her in the eyes. You managed to hold it for two seconds before covering your face. “Nope. I can’t do this.”

Kitty groaned dramatically. “Okay, let’s try something else. Flirting! Sometimes, a little playful teasing can go a long way.”

You hesitated. “Like… what kind of teasing?”

Kitty smirked. “Try complimenting him, but make it sound casual. Like, ‘Wow, Jungwon, you look so good today.’”

You cringed. “That doesn’t sound casual at all.”

“It’s all about the tone!” Kitty explained. “Say it naturally, like you’re just making an observation.”

You sighed and cleared your throat, trying to sound confident. “Wow, Jungwon, you look so good today.”

Kitty immediately burst into laughter. “Why do you sound like a robot?”

You groaned and covered your face again. “I told you I’m bad at this!”

She patted your shoulder. “Okay, okay. Let’s try something easier…Oh! What about smiling? When you see him, could you give him a little smile? Not too big, not too small. Just a hint of a smile.”

You nodded and tried it. Kitty examined you for a second before shaking her head. “No. That looks scary.”

“Kitty!!”

“Okay, okay! Let’s just—oh wait, Jungwon’s coming!” Kitty suddenly grabbed your shoulders.

Your eyes widened in pure panic. “WHAT?!”

“Relax! Just do what we practiced!” she whispered urgently.

Jungwon walked past, glancing at the two of you. You froze utterly, your mind going blank. Then, at the last second, you remembered Kitty’s advice. You quickly straightened your posture and gave him a small smile… except you accidentally bared your teeth like an awkward grimace instead of a confident smile.

Jungwon slowed down slightly, his brows furrowing. “Uh… are you okay?”

‘’Pfft’’ Kitty covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.

You, wholly mortified, quickly turned away. “Yes! Totally fine! Just… stretching my face!”

Jungwon blinked, clearly confused, before nodding slowly and walking off.

The moment he was out of sight, you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Kitty, I hate this.”

Kitty finally burst out laughing. “Okay, maybe that wasn’t your best moment, but hey! At least you tried!”

“I just embarrassed myself,” you muttered.

Kitty grinned. “Relax. Slow and steady wins the race. You’ll get there.”

You sighed, not entirely convinced, but Kitty’s encouragement made you feel slightly better. Maybe with time—and much more practice—you’d finally get the confidence you needed.

…Hopefully, before you died of embarrassment first.

💌

After your absolute disaster of a confidence practice session with Kitty, you decided there was only one solution.

Avoid Jungwon.

At all costs.

Your already massive crush on him had now turned into full-blown mortification. Every time you so much as thought about how you awkwardly bared your teeth at him, you wanted to disappear into the earth. So, naturally, when you spotted Jungwon walking down the hallway, you did what any logical person would do.

You grabbed the nearest person and used them as a human shield.

“Minho,” you hissed, ducking behind his tall frame.

Minho barely flinched while sipping on his collagen water. “Oi, what’s this then?” he drawled,

You gripped his shoulders. “I need to hide.”

Minho sighed, already used to your antics. “Lemme guess—Jungwon?”

You nodded frantically.

Minho shook his head but didn’t move. “You know, mate, you can’t keep running forever.”

“Yes, I can,” you whispered.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

“Minho,” Jungwon’s voice suddenly called out, catching your breath.

You peeked over Minho’s shoulder just in time to see Jungwon stopping before him, looking too good for your heart to handle.

Minho, unfazed, nodded in greeting. “Aye, mate. What’s up?”

Jungwon started talking to Minho about something you were too distracted to process. Because while he was addressing Minho, his eyes kept peeking over Minho’s shoulder—straight at you.

You immediately shrank further behind Minho.

Jungwon’s lips twitched slightly. “Hey,” he said, this time directed at you.

Your brain is short-circuited. Oh no. He’s talking to me. Abort mission. Abort mission.

Minho, ever the instigator, casually stepped to the side, exposing you completely.

You had no choice but to face Jungwon. “H-Hi,” you managed weakly.

Jungwon tilted his head slightly. “Are you hiding from me?”

“What? No! Pfft, that’s crazy,” you blurted out and laughed nervously.

Minho smirked and sipped his collagen water. “Yeah, mate, totally crazy.”

You kicked the back of Minho’s shoe.

Jungwon didn’t look entirely convinced but let it slide. “Alright,” he said before flicking his gaze back to Minho.

You thought you were in the clear—until you noticed that Jungwon kept glancing at you even as he continued his conversation with Minho. Every few seconds, his eyes would shift back to you.

It was subtle, but it was enough to make your stomach flip.

Then, as Minho made some joke in his relaxed drawl, Jungwon suddenly interrupted, his eyes locking on yours. “You don’t have to hide, you know,” he said softly.

Your heart stopped.

After thoroughly enjoying the situation, Minho took a long sip of his drink. “Oi, look at that, would ya? Some real tension here.”

You kicked him again.

Jungwon only smiled slightly before looking away as if he hadn’t just destroyed your ability to function.

And just like that, your plan to avoid him had backfired entirely.

You were so doomed.

💌

The sound of typing and the flick of pages turning was the soundtrack of your days lately. You had been buried in textbooks for what felt like forever. The stress had accumulated, leaving you exhausted. Your face was pale, and dark bags were under your eyes from the sleepless nights, but you couldn’t stop. You had to push through. A vast project was coming up, and you couldn’t afford to fail.

You propped your head up with one hand, barely able to keep your eyes open as you glanced over your notes. The words blurred, your mind already foggy from overworking. Before you knew it, your head dropped onto the table with a soft thud.

“Ugh…,” you mumbled as you fought to stay awake.

The door creaked open, and you heard the familiar sound of footsteps entering. Kitty’s voice followed soon after. “Hey, are you still at it?”

Jungwon’s calm tone responded, “She’s been studying for hours now. I don’t think she’s taking breaks.”

You groaned, too tired to even lift your head. The sounds of them approaching grew closer until you felt the soft pressure of someone standing beside you. You sighed and tried to sit up, but the weight of your exhaustion made it hard.

As you lifted your head, you saw Kitty’s shocked expression first. She gasped, her hand coming up to her mouth. “Oh my gosh! You look like you haven’t slept in days! Your face… it’s—”

You blinked slowly, too tired to defend yourself. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, attempting to give a smile, but it came out weak and crooked.

Kitty’s eyes softened with concern. “You need to take a break. Look at those bags under your eyes. Are you even eating right?”

Before you could reply, you heard Jungwon’s voice. “There’s nothing wrong with your face,” he said unbothered. He bent down to your level. “You’re still pretty, even with all that stress.”

The compliment caught you off guard. You couldn’t help but blush despite how exhausted you were. “W-well, thank you…” you stammered, a little embarrassed.

Kitty rolled her eyes playfully. “See, Jungwon knows what to say! But seriously, you need to rest.” She crossed her arms, and her frown replaced her concern. “This is way too much. You’re going to burn yourself out at this rate.”

Jungwon nodded slightly. “Kitty’s right. You won’t get far if you can’t even stay awake.”

You sighed, both too tired and too embarrassed to argue. “I… I need to finish this.”

Kitty leaned closer and whispered as if sharing a secret, “How about I help you get this done faster? You can relax, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

You blinked slowly, still too drained to think straight. “Are you sure?”

She smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. You need to close your eyes for a bit.”

Jungwon shot you a small and reassuring smile. “Take a break, okay? You don’t want to make yourself sick over this.”

You hesitated momentarily before nodding, grateful for their support even if you still felt guilty. You slid down in your chair, resting your head against the backrest and briefly closing your eyes.

Kitty moved to your side, pulling out her phone to check her messages. Jungwon stayed silent nearby, giving you an almost protective glance as you rested.

“Good. Now, take a nap. No more studying for the rest of the day,” Kitty said with a smile as she gave you the space to rest.

You breathed a sigh of relief and closed your eyes, hoping the rest would help ease the weight of the world you’d been carrying.

💌

You sat quietly on a chair, Minho beside you, applying your skincare. He had been your skincare mentor for a while, helping you with all the little tricks you needed. “Alright, make sure you really press it in,” Minho said, gently patting the moisturizer into your skin.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever do it as well as you,” you murmured. “But thanks for teaching me.”

Minho smiled. “Of course. You’re a fast learner,” he said, dabbing the cream across your cheek. “Maybe you should start your skincare vlog or something.”

You chuckled softly, “I’d probably mess it up on camera.”

Minho shook his head and let out a grin. “You’d be perfect. Trust me.”

You both laughed; the room felt safe. There was no pressure, no expectations, just good company. Then the door creaked open, and you looked up. Jungwon stepped in, looking casual, but something about his presence made the atmosphere feel different…tense, almost.

Minho waved at him, still oblivious to the sudden shift. “Hey, Jungwon! Just helping out with her skincare. You should join us.”

You froze for a moment, catching Jungwon’s eyes. Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly looked away, too shy to hold his eyes for long.

Jungwon’s lips twitched in an almost a frown. “I’m good,” he said; his eyes were focused on you and Minho, how you both were laughing and talking comfortably.

Minho, clearly unaware of the undercurrent between the three of you, laughed again. “You sure? I think I’m pretty much a skincare pro now.” He gently patted your cheek again, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

You noticed Jungwon kept looking at your face, then back to Minho’s hand. There was a slight tension in his posture now. His arms were still crossed, and his eyes had narrowed just a little. “I think she’s got it covered,” Jungwon’s voice a little colder. “You’re always helping her with something.”

You looked down, trying to avoid his gaze as his words were uncomfortably in the air. Your heart beat faster than usual, and you were too shy to respond. Why was it that whenever Jungwon was around, you lost all ability to act normal?

Minho didn’t seem to notice anything wrong. “What can I say? I’m just a helpful guy,” he replied with a wink.

Jungwon’s eyes flickered between the two of you. He uncrossed his arms and took a step closer. “Well, maybe she doesn’t need that much help,” he said, a little irritated. His tone wasn’t even harsh.

You flinched slightly, but you didn’t say anything. You just sat there, hoping the ground would swallow you whole.

Minho noticed the shift. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop making her feel like a project,” he teased, though it was clear he was a little confused by Jungwon’s sudden change in attitude. “I was just trying to be helpful.”

You bit your lip, feeling the awkward silence settle over the room. Jungwon didn’t respond immediately; they just looked at you for a beat longer than necessary. Then he exhaled and glanced at the door. “You should probably get some rest,” Jungwon said softer now. “It’s late.”

You nodded quickly. Unsure of what to say. “Right, I’ll—uh, I’ll head to bed.”

Minho, still oblivious, smiled. “Get some sleep. We’ll finish up tomorrow.”

You nodded again, glancing briefly at Jungwon as you left. Jungwon’s voice stopped you before you could walk out. “You’re… you’re fine, right?”

The question caught you off guard. You hesitated. “I’m fine,” you replied quietly while avoiding his gaze.

He nodded, then gave you an unreadable smile. “Okay,” he said before turning back to Minho.

You walked out of the room quickly,

Was that… jealousy?

That’s impossible.

💌

“You have to wear this,” Kitty declared, holding up a dress that made your stomach tense.

“Kitty, no.”

“Kitty, yes.”

You glared at her through the mirror, but she just grinned as she shoved the outfit into your hands. “Trust me,” she said. “Jungwon won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

You swallowed hard at the thought. Jungwon. Seeing you. In this.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t dressed up before, but this outfit felt… different. More intentional. It's more like you were trying to get his attention.

Which, okay, you were, but still—

Kitty snapped her fingers in front of your face. “No overthinking! Just wear it. Come on, it’s a party! You’re supposed to look hot.”

You groaned but ultimately let her win (not that you ever had a choice).

By the time you were ready, you were nervous to the point that you needed to go to the restroom for a second. Your reflection in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. Kitty had curled your hair and given you subtle but effective makeup; the outfit made you feel… good.

“You look amazing,” Kitty whispered and squeezed your shoulders. “Now go show Jungwon what he’s missing.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. You felt a little bit braver as you followed her out.

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. You weren’t even inside for a full minute before you felt the weight of someone’s eyes on you.

And when you turned—

There he was.

Jungwon.

Standing across the room, eyes locked on you with a similar unreadable expression on his face. For a moment, neither of you moved. The world around you blurred, and all you could focus on was how his eyes slowly traveled over you before he looked away.

Kitty, standing beside you, definitely noticed.

“Oh,” she whispered and nudged you with her elbow. “He so noticed.”

You felt your face heat up.

Jungwon, however, had turned away, disappearing into the crowd before you could react.

The party was energetic, but you barely registered anything. Kitty had practically forced you into this dress, hyping you up, fixing your hair, and making you promise you wouldn’t shrink away if Jungwon talked to you.

But here he was—talking to you—and you were about two seconds from running.

“You look different.”

You looked up at him with your fingers gripping your cup tighter.

“What?”

His gaze was enough to make you feel self-conscious.

“You don’t usually dress like this,” he said.

You swallowed. “Oh. Yeah. Kitty—”

“Makes sense.”

Your brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

Jungwon took a sip of his drink and then met your gaze again.

“It means you look pretty.”

If that makes sense, your brain wholly short-circuited, and you felt like your stomach was twisting again.

You needed to escape.

But the second you tried to move, a gentle hand wrapped around your wrist.

“Don’t run away,” Jungwon said softly.

You froze.

His grip wasn’t tight or forceful—just enough to hold you there, to make you look at him.

“You always do that,” he murmured.

Your throat went dry.

Jungwon tilted his head slightly, “You’re always avoiding me,” he continued, “but then you’re always looking.”

Your breath hitched.

Jungwon let out a chuckle. Then, most casually, like he wasn’t wholly messing with your heart, he said—

“You don’t have to run. I don’t mind if you stay.”

You weren’t used to this—at least not with him.

“Hey,” Jungwon’s voice was quiet, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You were processing his words slowly. You had been avoiding him for so long, not because you didn’t like him, but because the thought of being close to him made your heart skip beats. And now, here he was, standing so close,

“I’m okay,” you mumbled, shifting your gaze anywhere but him. The more you looked at him, the more your stomach flipped.

Jungwon’s hand fell to his side. He gave you a little space, but not enough to make you feel like he was giving up. You could tell that he wasn’t the type to give up easily. “I didn’t mean to crowd you,” he continued, understanding. “I… wanted to hang out, y’know?”

You nodded slowly, still unsure how to move past the awkward tension that had settled between you two. It was strange, feeling so seen yet so exposed. “Okay.” You took a deep breath. “I… I’m not good with all of this yet.”

Jungwon smiled at that. He didn’t push, didn’t pressure. Instead, he took a small step back, keeping a respectful distance but maintaining that comforting presence. “I get it,” he said. “But if you ever want to talk or hang out, I’m here. No rush.” He let the words hang in the air. He is willing to wait until you are ready.

You finally allowed your eyes to meet his, “Thanks,” you whispered, feeling a warmth in your chest that wasn’t just from the proximity but from the simple kindness he showed you. He wasn’t asking for more than your comfort, making everything more manageable.

“You know,” Jungwon added, “you don’t have to hide behind Minho all the time.”

You stiffened at that, but he didn’t look at you teasingly. He was stating a fact.

Your heart fluttered.

“Well, he’s taller than me,” you mumbled, trying to brush off the awkwardness.

Jungwon chuckled.

And for once, the thought of being close to Jungwon didn’t make your heart race in fear. It made it race in something else.

Something a little more hopeful.

💌

The group had decided to take a little break from basically everything that happened, and everyone was now scattered across the dorm’s common area. Kitty and Minho were sitting on the couch, though something was different. Minho had his arm casually draped over the back of the sofa, and Kitty leaned slightly toward him, her attention entirely on whatever they were discussing.

You couldn’t help but watch, caught up in the dynamic between them. It was so apparent that they were getting close. Too close, really. You glanced at them for a few seconds longer than you probably should have, a little uncomfortable with how natural they looked together, especially considering the little tension between them.

You shook your head and sighed. “Those two should just get together already,” you muttered. “It’s painful to watch.” You didn’t even realize you had said it aloud until Jungwon, standing nearby, chuckled softly.

“You seem to be invested in their situation. ”

You froze and blushed immediately. “What? No! I—” You stammered. “It’s awkward, you know? With everything going on with Yuri and all that. It’d be easier if they just figured it out.”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Sounds like you’re a little too invested,” his smirk growing.

You looked away quickly. “I’m not. I think… it’s obvious, don’t you think?”

Jungwon leaned back. “Hm. Interesting. You know, Kitty might take that as a challenge. She likes playing matchmaker.” He paused, glancing at the two on the couch before returning to you. “But then again, maybe it’s you who should be matched with someone.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you shot a look at him, trying to keep your cool. “What are you talking about?” You weren’t sure if you were ready for whatever joke or comment he was about to make.

With a shrug. “I don’t know… It’d be painful to watch you and me, right?”

You were trying to make sense of his words. Was he joking? Was he serious?

Before you could respond, Jungwon gave you a playful smile. “Well, maybe not. We’re not so bad, right?” His eyes seemed to challenge you to call him out on it.

You couldn’t stop the nervous laugh that escaped your lips. “I… I don’t know what you mean,” you said quickly. Your thoughts felt muddled, and your stomach flipped in a way you weren’t quite ready to admit.

Jungwon leaned closer just a little. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s happening between you and… well, someone, someday.”

The way he said that last part made your heart flutter, and before you could think too much about it, you quickly stood up, awkwardly brushing past him to talk to Dae. You couldn’t handle being near him anymore, not with his strange comment.

💌

It had been one of those nights where everything felt like it was building up to something. The group had decided to sneak out, and of course, Kitty had the whole thing planned out. Again. She was determined to get you and Jungwon alone for a little confession moment, even if it meant dragging everyone else into a mini adventure. The plan was simple: sneak out to the park for a midnight stroll.

The group managed to sneak out without much trouble, or so they thought. Kitty was already ahead, while Minho, Q, Dae, and Yuri followed, all too eager to escape their studies. You padded behind them. But suddenly, just as you were about to turn the corner toward the door, you heard footsteps approaching from the hallway.

“Someone’s coming!” you hissed and panic started rising in your chest. You froze, unsure of what to do, until a pair of warm hands quickly grabbed you from behind, pulling you into the nearest room and closing the door softly.

You looked up to see Jungwon standing there. His gaze was serious momentarily before it softened into that usual mischievous smile. “Close call,” he whispered.

You sighed in relief but your heart was still pounding from the adrenaline. “I didn’t think it would be this hard to sneak out,” you muttered.

Jungwon stepped closer, and the space between you grew smaller. “Kitty really knows how to get us into trouble, doesn’t she?” he smiled gently.

You laughed nervously. “She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. I don’t know how she does it.” You couldn’t help but glance down. “I should probably—” you began to mumble but Jungwon interrupted you

“You don’t have to run away this time,” he murmured and you felt his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “You can stay with me.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the words, and before you could even process their whole meaning, Jungwon leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, most gentle kiss you’d ever experienced. The world seemed to stop for a moment.

You stood there, frozen, your eyes wide in shock as Jungwon pulled back slightly, but only enough to look at you with a tender look, “You were going to say something, right?” Jungwon whispered

You were unable to form words. You couldn’t find anything to say except for the obvious truth that had been sitting in your chest for so long. “I… I’ve liked you for a while,” you finally admitted in a whisper. “I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t think you’d… feel the same.”

Jungwon smiled and leaned his forehead against yours. “I feel the same,” he said softly. “I’ve been trying to find the right moment to tell you… but I guess this is as good a time as any.”

You smiled as you leaned into him, both chuckling in silence. For the first time, it felt like the weight had been lifted, and everything had finally fallen into place.

💌

The next day, you and Jungwon walked through campus hand in hand. You didn’t care about the curious glances or whispers around you. Everything felt so natural now. Jungwon’s thumb gently brushed against your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile at the small but significant change in your relationship.

As you turned the corner, you spotted Kitty and Q sitting at their usual spot by the fountain. They looked up at you two simultaneously, eyes widening in shock as they saw your hands intertwined. Kitty’s face immediately broke into a smile, while Q’s jaw dropped slightly. “Oh my god!” Kitty squealed with her voice a few octaves higher than usual as she stood up quickly. “It’s official! You two are—?”

You giggled and nodded. “Yep, it’s real. Took us a while, but we finally figured it out.”

Q was still in shock and blinked a few times before recovering. “Wait, is this the part where you two act all coy about it?” he teased.

Jungwon chuckled and shrugged slightly as he looked down at you with an affectionate gaze. “Guess so,” he said casually. “But it feels good. Finally.”

Kitty, her excitement never waning, jumped up and clapped her hands together. “I knew it! I knew you two would be perfect for each other. I mean, come on, how could you not be?”

You smiled as you felt a little shy under all their attention. “Yeah, well, it’s thanks to Kitty here,” you said, turning toward her with a grateful look. “She practically forced us to get our act together.”

Kitty just shrugged. “Hey, someone had to step in. You two were taking forever.”

You then decided to have a little fun with Q. Turning to him with a smirk; you said, “Oh, and by the way, Q, now that we’re all on the same page… maybe it’s time you and Jin finally get together.”

Kitty gasped, and Q’s face immediately turned beet red. “I—what? No! That’s—no!” he sputtered

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You know, I’ve noticed that too. You and Jin make a good pair,” he said honestly.

Q looked like he was about to explode, “I hate him!” he said. “You better not tell Jin I said that.”

You chuckled at his reaction. “Oh, don’t worry. We won’t say a thing… for now.”

Still practically bouncing with excitement, Kitty turned to Jungwon with a warm smile. “Okay, I’ll take the credit for this one,” she said with a wink. “But I’m happy you two finally figured it out.”

Jungwon gave Kitty a genuine look, squeezing your hand as he thanked her. “Honestly, thank you, Kitty. You really did help us get here.”

Kitty’s face softened and she laughed lightly. “Of course! I’m just happy to see you two so happy together.”

At that moment, everything felt perfect. You were with Jungwon and were surrounded by friends who were happy for you. It felt like the start of something new and beautiful, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for everything that had led up to this moment. “Alright, alright,” you said, leaning into Jungwon as you all settled back down to enjoy the rest of the day. “Let’s just say that Kitty’s matchmaking skills are unmatched.”

Kitty shot you a wink. “Told you.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was finally falling into place.

[stunie]

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “DID YOU JUST FAKE THAT, PRINCESS?”

WINDBREAKER BOYS + FAKING AN ORGASM. ft. hayato suo, sakura haruka, togame jo, & umemiya hajime x f!reader

content: explicit smut (18+), overstimulation, squirting, fingering, cunninglingus, phone call / keep quiet, mirror sex, multiple rounds, creampies, usage of pet names, praise

part 1: ft. yamato endo, kiryuu mitsuki, & kaji ren

mdni - 2K wc . filled request! (i added togame) :>

HAYATO SUO. mirror sex

"h-how!”

your reaction is adorable, drawing a lighthearted chuckle from your boyfriend. you squirm a bit, face pressed uncomfortably against your vanity’s mirror as you’re bent over your own desk, a smiling suo looming right over you.

"well...you didn't replicate it very well," he coos, "i'm surprised you thought i would fall for that."

you narrow your eyes at him in disbelief. there was absolutely no chance that he was able to differentiate between a real one and a fake one— you’re certain of it. you had even mimicked the way your walls flutter around him whenever he pushes you off the edge.

“don’t believe me?” his voice comes out steady, cock prodding at your entrance, “i’ll show you.”

you gasp at the feeling of his length stretching your walls, pushing until just the tip is inside. he’s holding you tightly, not letting you move when you impatiently try and push your hips back for more.

“s-suo,” you blurt, “stop teasi—”

all at once, he’s slamming his hips into you, your tongue lolling out when he’s buried deep inside you. he doesn’t give you time to steady yourself before he sets a brutal pace, fingers coming to swipe perfectly at your clit. “see?” his voice comes out cheerful despite the way he’s bullying his length into you so roughly, “this is closer to the kind of faces you make for me.”

it’s all happening too fast. before you know it, you’re shivering and whining beneath him, arms knocking over your bottles of skincare as you try to brace yourself to take him. he’s awfully composed, subtly angling himself to slam against the spot that has you seeing stars. your orgasm approaches you so fast, faster than ever before, and it’s overwhelming.

“w-wait, suo, slow down—” you stammer, thighs shaking violently as the knot inside you threatens to snap. “it’s too much! ‘m gonna-”

“and you know? when i do this,” he interrupts sweetly, fingers coming to rub at your clit just as his cock pushes against a sensitive spot, “you’ll cum for me.”

it hits you in an instant, eyes widening when the familiar wave crashes through you, walls spasming against his length as you scream. your vision is still a blur even when he slows down his pace, dotted with white and black splotches. you can barely register what’s happening when suo’s hands come to run up and down your body as he sighs contentedly.

“see? like that,” he nods, “it’s easy.”

his length is still inside you, switching to slow and steady thrusts as you tremble beneath him. "don't worry. i'll show you again so you remember."

SAKURA HARUKA. squirting, cunninglingus, fingering

sakura’s fingers leave your clit the second he realizes something isn’t right, because you’re usually much louder and messier than this. he pulls back from your cunt for a second, head hot and blurry from nerves, and the violent blush across his face deepens as he forces himself to get a closer look at your cunt.

it all makes sense when he realizes he was touching the wrong spot— most likely due to the fact that his eyes had been clenched shut.

“y-you didn’t tell me,” he grumbles out of embarrassment, gaze shifting anywhere except on you. even with an apology and the explanation that you just wanted to make him more comfortable, the thought of how’d you look actually cumming on his face doesn’t leave his head.

he’s buried in your cunt now, your thighs clenched tightly around his head as he fucks his fingers deep into you. sakura had no idea just how addicting it would be when you first mentioned it to him— each moan that leaves your lips more sinful and loud than the last. it has his cock throbbing with need, forcing him to grind his hips against the mattress to relieve the frustrating ache.

“oh my god…” you mumble to no one in particular, mouth falling open when he pushes his tongue inside your cunt, eating you out with more intensity as his fingers come to press into your clit. “sakura—”

it’s dizzying, but he wants more. his free hand comes to dig into your ass, lifting you up a bit so he hold you flush against his face, licking and slurping at your cunt even as your thighs squeeze roughly against his head. “ah— fuck, sakura, w-wait!”

the way he’s eating you out feels different than what you’re familiar with. the knot in your core feels tighter, you feel wetter— he feels better. your hands come to desperately tug at his hair when it’s too much, and his eyes widen when you unintentionally push him deeper into your cunt.

the pressure of his tongue flicking against your clit one last time is all it takes for you to scream, cunt gushing into him as he licks and suckles at your clit. your walls flutter around nothing, your body numbing from the intensity— but your boyfriend looks the opposite.

“again,” his voice is just above a growl, cheeks still glowing red with embarrassment, “let me practice again.”

TOGAME JO. phone call / keep quiet, overstim

the sudden ringing of his phone catches the attention of the two of you, screen lighting up brightly as it vibrates against the mattress. togame’s thrusts slow down a bit, reaching to fish it from somewhere underneath the blankets to check the caller.

"ah, it's choji."

his voice comes out completely normal, as if he wasn’t balls deep inside your cunt just moments ago. it’s almost irritating how limitless his stamina is; your body numb and overstimulated since long ago, and all you’re able to do now is lay there and take what he gives you.

it takes all your energy to try and pull away from him to let him take the call, struggling a bit with the way his big frame is towering over yours, but he suddenly pulls your hips back against his own.

“jo!” you warn through a hushed whisper, eyes narrowing into a glare as the cheerful melody of his ringtone repeats itself again. your eyes widen when he puts a finger to his lips to silence you, and you realize that he’s planning on answering it without stopping.

a hand wraps around your neck, pulling you up until your back is flush against his chest, his thickness nestled right against your cervix with the angle. “gonna stay nice and quiet for me while i answer choji,” he coos into the shell of your ear, “won’t you?”

“because we’re not done just yet..”

your body falls back onto the mattress when he lets go, and you grasp onto one of your pillows to stuff your face into when he resumes his pace, starting slow and deep.

“choji?” togame asks, lifting the phone to his ear to tuck it between his shoulder casually. “ah..today?”

his hands hold your hips firmly as he picks up the pace, balls slapping against your clit as his tip prods at your cervix with each movement, and you can only hope it’s not loud enough for the mic to pick up. togame feels differently than usual, the drag and stretch of his length against your walls much more noticeable when you’re trying to keep quiet.

“that’s really last minute….mhm,” a small grunt forces its way out, “i’ll come after i finish what i’m doing here.”

there’s a sharp thrust of his hips and you can’t help the little yelp that escapes your lips. togame stiffens above you, hands gripping your hips to keep you still as the two of you wait to see if choji had heard you.

“noise…? nah, it must have been my phone. it’s old.”

your thighs are trembling against his, knot inside your core still threatening to snap even after he’s ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. “let me check the door though. hold on,” togame clicks the mute button before tossing his phone beside your head, suddenly pounding into you with more strength.

“f-fuck!” you cry when his cock hits a particular spot inside you, and you’re cumming just like that, gushing around him and screaming as your walls fluttering wildly against him. there’s a deep groan from him as he clenches his jaw, pace not faltering as he rapidly approaches his own high.

he lets you fall limp onto the bed, mind numb from each orgasm he’s pulled from you after your stunt tonight. “you gotta stay quiet,” he rasps, hands still holding your hips up for him, “wouldn’t want choji to hear you getting stuffed full for the third time tonight, right?”

his words send a shiver down your spine, walls clenching around his length at the thought. you’re so tired, too tired to do anything except cling onto the sheets beneath you, and you know he’s not even close to his limit.

“…or would you like choji to hear…?”

you shake your head quickly, drawing a small chuckle from togame. he picks up his phone again, giving you a warning squeeze around your hips before he’s unmuting his mic. “ahh…” he starts, “it was nothing. anyways, i’ll see you later, choji. i’m hanging up.”

he hangs up abruptly, letting out a deep groan he didn’t know he’s been holding in for the last minute when he feels your walls eagerly flutter around his length. togame’s quick to cage you underneath him, strong arms planted on either side of your head as his pace begins to falter, hips stuttering as he quickly approaches his high.

“so impatient…squeezing my dick like that. want me to fill you up nice and full, huh?”

UMEMIYA HAJIME. creampie, pet names, multiple rounds

"c'mon," umemiya grunts from above you, hips slowing their movement against yours, "you know you can't convince me with something like that."

he's gentle when he lowers himself onto his forearms, forehead pressing against yours as if searching for his answer. your bottom lip curls into a small frown, eyes shifting their gaze away from your boyfriend. he's always so good— knows exactly how to get you trembling underneath him in an instant, and you hate it. you hate the way your expression starts to contort and the way he’s pulling the most lewd sounds from you.

"it's embarrassing," you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, "the faces i make."

his eyes widen a bit at the confession, as if the idea of you being embarrassed wasn’t even a possibility in the first place. there's a experimental thrust of his hips, his cock nudging your cervix, and you can't help the small gasp that escapes.

“i don’t think that,” he coos, heavy cock stretching you so perfectly as he starts to move against you again, “don’t be shy.”

"f-fuck.." you gasp, because he feels too good. his chest is slick with sweat, the muscles of his arms flexing beside your head as he gazes down on you, intent on gauging each and every reaction his cock rips from you. “that’s good,” he whispers when your eyebrows furrow at the stimulation, “just like that. keep your eyes on me.”

he's getting rougher with each roll of his hips, thick length reaching impossibly deep inside your cunt. the back of your hand comes to cover your mouth when you feel the familiar knot tightening in your core, eyes clenching shut to fight it.

"nuh uh," ume's voice comes out a little breathless from the pace, his hands coming to pry yours off of your face, "no more hiding from me."

"u-ume," you protest with a huff, legs wrapping around his middle to keep him deep inside you, "just give it to me. please?"

he chuckles a bit, big hand coming to squeeze at your face, puckering your lips out. "oh, i will— i’ll give you what you need, pretty thing," he grunts when your walls flutter around his cock at the nickname, "so keep your eyes on me."

his fingers stay around your face, angling your head to face him when he sets a rough pace, balls slapping against your skin with each movement.

"wanna see you nice and clear when you cum for me, okay?"

[maxtermind]

Can I request some more angst 🫠🫠 I’m a sucker for your sad fics

tell me, why'd you have to hit-and-run me?

★ : summary :: finding out your boyfriend was dared to date you ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: ANGST; no hea ★ : word count :: 4k+ ★ : a/n :: how are we feeling with the daily posts ending tom and shifting to alternate day posting🤭 babe you asked for angst and i delivered, lmk how you like it <3 bet y'all thought you needed tissues for something else😏

Max Verstappen

“Mate, you still haven’t told her?” you heard Lando whisper, making your eyebrows shoot up. What were they talking about? As you finally decided to approach your boyfriend and his friend, you heard Max whisper.

It was low, so low that you almost didn’t catch it, but the way your hand froze on the knob and the utter stillness of your heartbeat indicated that you heard him loud and clear when he slowly said, “I don’t know how to.”

That. That was the reason you froze. You were processing what you heard. Your heart pulled from its rightful place—no, it was ripped out.

God, you thought, anything but that. Anything but cheating because how could you even confront him if he confessed to cheating on you right there on the spot in front of one of his friends?

“It has been going on for too long, Max.” Lando took a deep breath. “You should tell her you love her; she’ll understand.”

Ah. Okay, he loves you; this was okay. But then why was your heart still beating so loudly that you could hear it in your ears?

“How do you think I should go about it?” Max asked, and that was when you finally had enough. You turned the knob, but Lando was already speaking, and his words had you freeze again.

The boys' heads snapped up, eyes wide when they saw you walk in. You felt your eyes burn as Lando’s last words finally processed.

“You should’ve thought about it before you decided to make a stupid bet with those dumb men.”

“Bet?” you wondered aloud as you saw Max stumble over to you. What bet?

“No bet!” you heard your panicked boyfriend almost scream. You were so confused you didn’t even know what you were saying out loud.

“For fuck’s sake,” Lando said as he stood from the couch, glaring at Max. “Y/N deserves to know.” You kept your eyes on Max, trying to gauge an explanation from his clearly messed-up state.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” you finally looked at your boyfriend’s best friend. “I clearly shouldn’t have trusted Max to—”

“I think you should leave,” Max groaned out as if it pained him to hear Lando talk, almost hissing out the last word. They started bickering back and forth, and through your hazy mind, you could only make out a few words.

But they were enough. You took a deep breath as you stepped away from Max towards the door. He was too busy focusing on Lando anyway.

“Y.. you’re saying I was a bet?” Your voice cut through the chaos, and it was Max’s turn to go dead silent and freeze on the spot.

“You asked me ou—” Oh god, you didn’t want to cry, “—because of a dare?”

Max’s eyes were wide with horror, his face pale as he took a step toward you, his hands reaching out in desperation. “No, Y/N, it’s not like that, please, let me explain.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably. “Explain what, Max?” Your voice cracked on the last word, the pain too raw to hold back when you saw Max was also crying. “How a…all i have be— this relationship has been is a fucking lie?” The moment you said it out loud, you heard Lando take in a sharp breath. Max looked disheveled, he could just tell that this was the only time he could repair this. You looked a minute away from walking out and the thought of that had him talking even through his closed up throat.

His voice broke, choked with emotion. “No, Y/N, I swear, it wasn’t like that. It started as a stupid dare, yes, but then... then I fell in love with you. I fell so hard, it—” His words stumbled over each other, barely coherent through his tears. “I called the whole thing off.”

You cut him off, your voice trembling and thick with hurt. “You should have told me right then. As soon as you called it off, you sho—” Your body shook, barely able to stand under the weight of your heartbreak. “How could you do this to m.. me?”

Max rushed forward to hold your hands, breathing heavily to get himself under control so he could talk as he sobbed. “I was so fucking scared, Y/N. I didn’t want to lose you. You mean everything to me.”

You looked down at your joined hands, feeling your heart shatter all over again. It was one thing to know someone’s apology was sincere and another to know that they had faked being sincere from the very beginning. So how could you even tell the difference now? Your voice came out in a broken whisper. “How can I trust you now? How can I believe anything you say?” You were almost gasping for breath, each word an effort as you tried to hold back the sobs wracking your body.

Lando’s voice was soft but firm from behind you, though his own eyes were hard. “He’s telling the truth, Y/N. He was an idiot, but he’s been head over heels for you for a long time.”

Max’s tear-streaked face looked up at you, his eyes pleading. “Please, Y/N. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Anything. Just... don’t leave me.” His voice broke, the last word coming out as a wail of despair.

You turned away, unable to bear the sight of him, your voice barely above a whisper but laced with raw agony. “I can’t be here.” You could barely see through your tears, your entire body trembling.

Max’s anguished sobs followed you as you walked away, your heart feeling like it was being torn from your chest with every step. The pain was unbearable, and you stumbled, nearly collapsing under the weight of your sorrow but Lando caught you as he held you by your shoulders.

You needed to be alone, to process everything, and to decide if love could truly overcome betrayal. But right now, it felt like your world was ending.

Lewis Hamilton

“Y/N, baby please—”

Lewis’s voice pleaded as you shut the door behind, your heart splintering into a thousand pieces. Tears blurred your vision as you staggered away from your apartment, the weight of betrayal crushing your chest.

To think that you used to gush about him, about this, the vague lie you had to others. Not even a few steps away from your apartment, you were bent over, retching into a nearby dustbin.

How could luck be so cruel? How could you have been so blind?

You wandered the streets, tears falling down your cheeks as your brain replayed the moments when Lewis first approached you at a random club party, despite your friends warning you that someone like him must have nefarious reasons. But you were smitten.

“I’m sorry, but I don't know what you’re doing here,” you had said to him, feeling your heart beat faster when a smirk adorned his face in return. He looked majestic under the club lights. “Where else would I be?” he muttered, mesmerized as he looked at you, “If not with the most beautiful girl in this club?”

He made you feel special, validated in a way you had never felt before. Now, the memory turned sour in your mind, leaving you feeling sick and disgusted. You dry heaved again.

At least he had the decency to confess. Standing here in the cold, his words from when he sat you down with him echoed in your ears— his pleading, his apologies, his desperate attempts to explain. But what did it matter now?

“How could you?” you whispered, thump! thump! thump! your heart pumped as you heard it in your ears, your voice barely audible through the tears streaming down your cheeks. “Was I just a game to you?” That was the first thing you said after his almost ten-minute rant.

You had stopped listening though, right when he had told you what exactly made him approach you. Your first meeting was so magical, so precious to you, but it was all ruined now.

His friend had dared him because Lewis’ morale was down. He was having the worst day of his life after losing an almost sure race win, and his friends knew the only way to cheer him up was through a challenge.

Lewis reached out when he saw that you were lost in your thoughts, his voice desperate and shaky. “No, Y/N, please listen to me—”

You shook your head, cutting him off. “Don’t. Just don’t…”

“Please,” he pleaded, looking nothing like the man you loved, his voice cracking with emotion. “I love you, Y/N. I messed up, but I love you more than anything.”

You felt your heart breaking all over again because you genuinely couldn’t recognize the man standing in front of you— the man who had played you, was probably still playing you. “You should have thought about that before…”

Unable to bear another moment, you left, leaving his words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. You were nothing more than a pawn in his game of masculine pride and insecurity. The realization hit you like a freight train, leaving you gasping for air as you collapsed against a nearby wall, sobs wracking your body.

How could someone who once made you feel so alive now leave you feeling so broken?

Carlos Sainz

The evening was warm, and the restaurant buzzed with laughter and conversation. You sat with your boyfriend, Carlos, his friends, and a few of your own. It was a casual dinner, the kind you rarely held since Carlos was so busy.

“I can't believe we wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t dared Carlos to ask you out,” Javier chuckled as he saw you lean forward to kiss your boyfriend.

Laughter erupted around the table but quickly died down when they realized the utter horror on your face. An uncomfortable silence settled in, and you noticed the tension.

Your wide eyes moved from one face to another, finally landing on Carlos, whose expression had turned serious. He glared at Javier, and you sensed something was wrong. You felt uncomfortable, and the need to flee clutched you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice small yet cutting through the awkwardness as you held Carlos’ hand under the table. He squeezed it in return.

“Uh, nothing,” Javier stammered, realizing his mistake. His discomfort was evident, triggering your fight-or-flight response.

You turned to Carlos. “What’s going on?” Your voice held a very tiny hope, hoping this was all a prank that would be over soon.

He sighed as he squeezed your hand again, his frustration evident. “We should talk about this at home.”

You pulled your hand away from his, your confusion and hurt growing. The others at the table exchanged looks of pity, further igniting your anger.

“No, we’re talking about it here. What’s going on?” you demanded as a shaky breath left your lips.

Carlos looked around nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to tell you like this.” He stopped himself again.

“Tell me what?” Your voice grew louder, drawing the attention of nearby diners.

Before he could respond, one of your friends, Beatrice, chimed in, “Just tell her, for God’s sake!” You looked at her in solitude, glad that you had some kind of support here.

“I dared Carlos to ask you out as a joke!” Javier blurted out just as you were managing to form a small smile to pass to your friend.

Your heart pounded in your chest. “What?” The chair creaked under you as you pushed it away from the table, and your boyfriend held your hand again.

“Please, it wasn’t like that,” Carlos tried to calm you down, but he was panicking himself. He was still whispering that you could not feel anything else in the world anymore. That was enough evidence.

You stood up, knocking your chair over as you once again snatched your hand away from his. “Wasn’t like what? You made me believe this was fucking real!”

Other diners began to whisper and pull out their phones, recording the scene as he stood up as well. With a desperate look, Carlos reached out to you, but you stepped back.

“This whole time, I was just a fucking… dare to you?” you shouted.

People around the restaurant started filming, their phones pointed at the escalating scene. Carlos's anger boiled over. He grabbed a nearby phone and smashed it against the table. The room fell silent, shocked gasps filling the air.

“Carlos, stop!” One of his friends tried to pull him back.

“You all think this is funny?” Carlos yelled at the onlookers, distracted now, and you knew what you were going to do as he turned around to yell again. “Get your own fucking life!”

You stood up, tears streaming down your face. “I’m done with this,” you said, your voice breaking. You were already walking away when you felt your friend follow you.

As you left the restaurant, you could hear the whispers and see the flashes of cameras. You knew this would go viral, but at that moment, you didn’t care. Your heart ached with betrayal and anger.

Carlos realized a bit too late that you were gone. Frustrated, he ran out to catch up with you and tried to call you again and again.He didn't know at the time that he would never catch a hold of you after this.

Charles Leclerc

You were scrolling through social media when a notification from an unknown sender caught your attention. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t, curiosity got the better of you, and you clicked on the thumbnail showing your boyfriend at a party.

The video started playing. It was from months ago, showing Charles in an outfit that you recognized but couldn’t remember from where. Ethan's voice could be heard clearly over the music. “I dare you to ask that girl out,” Ethan said, laughing, but you still couldn’t tell who he was pointing at. “Bet you can't do it.”

Charles grinned, looking a little tipsy. “You're on,” he replied, to the cheers and jeers of his friends. The grainy video ended with Charles approaching you. A deafening silence enveloped you when you realized this was from the day you first met him.

Charles had a determined look on his face, but the video faded into the background. Your thoughts echoed painfully in the emptiness, the truth of your lover's betrayal reverberating within you.

Your heart sank further as you sat in silence to process. You felt a rush of emotions— betrayal, hurt, and anger. Tears welled up in your eyes as you replayed the video, hoping it was some sort of sick joke. But the evidence was right there, undeniable.

At that moment, the door to the apartment opened, and Charles walked in, a smile on his face. “Hey, love. What are you up to?” he asked, not noticing your distress at first.

You turned to him, your eyes brimming with tears. “What is this?” you demanded, holding up your phone with the video paused at the damning moment.

Charles's smile faded instantly, replaced by a look of horror. “Baby, how did you—” he started, stepping towards you as he felt the room spin a bit, all the blood rushing to his head.

“Does it matter?” you snapped, your voice shaking with anger as tears gathered under your eyes. “When you only even looked at me because of a stupid bet?”

“It started as a bet, yes,” Charles admitted, his voice pained. “But it's not like that now. I fell in love with you, Y/N. Everything we've had since then has been real.” He was quickly getting closer to you, but you flinched away and that stopped him dead in his tracks.

You shook your head, unable to believe what you were hearing. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” You were so angry, your ears so warm that it wouldn’t be impossible if smoke started coming out of them.

Charles reached out, but you stepped back once again. “Please, Y/N. I was an idiot. I shouldn't have agreed to that dare, but I did. And yes, that's how it started. But the moment I got to know you, everything changed. I love you more than anything.”

“Do you have any idea just how humiliating this is?” you shouted, your voice breaking. “I thought what we had was special. I thought it was real. And now I find out it was all… a gamble to you.” You hated that you were showing him so many emotions but fuck, it hurt so much and you wish you could hurt him back.

“It is not a gamble,” Charles pleaded, tears forming in his eyes. “Not after I got to know you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Please, don't let this ruin us.” He could actually feel you slipping through his fingers.

“Fuck you, you’re the one who ruined this!” you said, turning away, trying to gather your thoughts, willing yourself to leave and hating yourself when you couldn’t. “Seriously,” you said quietly, not looking at him. “Fuck you.” You laid emphasis to show that you actually meant the words. “You’ve ruined me”

“Baby,” Charles's voice broke when he heard you say that he ruined you, but the way you glared at him because of the nickname had him backtracking. “Y/N, please just let me show you how that was all a lie. I love you. I can't fucking lose you over this.”

You walked to the door, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere. “It is still all a lie,” you declared in a voice that showed you were shutting down, barely above a whisper.

As you stepped out of the apartment, you heard Charles crying behind you, but you didn’t stop to mend his heart because you couldn't even feel yours in your chest.

Lando Norris

Lando’s phone buzzed with notifications as he stepped out of the room and you glanced at it absentmindedly, not intending to invade his privacy. But the screen lit up with messages from his friends’ group chat, and the first few lines caught your eye, seeing your name in them.

“Can’t believe Lando actually went through with it.” “I know, right? It’s hilarious that she still doesn’t know!”

Your heart sank as you read further, each message a dagger to your trust. They were discussing you— about Lando making a bet involving you. Your hands trembled, and you scrolled through the conversation, your worst fears unfolding before your eyes.

“Thought he’d be gloating but he hasn’t contacted at all.” “Shit, man, he’s been with her for a year. I'm not paying him that much!”

You felt sick to your stomach. The room spun around you as you struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the betrayal. All those times you believed in Lando, trusted him with your heart— were they all just part of a cruel scheme? A fucking game?

You heard Lando approaching, unaware that you had seen everything. His smile faded as he saw the look on your face, the phone still clutched tightly in your hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked cautiously, sensing the tension in the air as he approached you with wide eyes.

This has happened before. Lando was always scared of coming home and finding it empty because you had found out about something he was afraid to tell you but in the past he was always wrong. It was a show, a friend, a book making you cry but today was different.

You held up the phone, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Care to explain this?”

Lando’s expression shifted from confusion to dread as he realized what had just happened. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with a bitter laugh.

“Fuck, you really had me convinced!” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “You made a bet? How much have you made so far, Mr. Norris?”

“Don't say that,” Lando looked like you had slapped him across his face. He reached out to you, his face pleading for forgiveness. “Y/N, I swear it wasn’t like that—”

“How much was it?” you demanded, the words laced with bitterness. “Bet you made a lot the day you finally got laid, huh?” “No!” Your boyfrie— ex-boyfriend screamed. His eyes were carrying moisture and you couldn’t help but scoff but he carried on. “I never took a single penny, Y/N. I.. I promise, I hadn’t even talked to them since the day i realized what assholes they were and—”

Lando’s face fell, his words faltering as he rushed forward to catch you in his arms, his tears finally falling once he saw your wet face. But the truth hung heavy in the silence between you, suffocating any hope of reconciliation.

Tears fell down your cheeks onto his arm as he kissed your head and whispered sweet nothings and sorry, I’m so sorry so so sorry sorry sorry, again and again against your head, blurring your vision. “I trusted you,” you whispered, voice breaking. “I loved you.”

The weight of it all settled on you, and you sank deeper into the couch, overwhelmed by the betrayal. The anger that fueled you moments ago now gave way to a deep, searing pain. How could he have done this to you?

Lando kneeled down before you, his own tears betraying the magnitude of his mistake. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, reaching for you. “I never meant for you to find out.”

He carried on but your ears started ringing when the words registered. Wouldn’t a person with nothing to be guilty about, accept the truth and make up? Why was he so hell bent on keeping it under a hush?

His words felt hollow, empty promises in the wake of his betrayal and you cut him off as you pushed him away from you . “Get out,” you managed to say, your voice hoarse.

Lando hesitated, torn between wanting to explain and knowing that no explanation would mend what was broken. “Please,” you whispered and it was so small, so scared that he got up immediately and nodded.

He kissed your head again and you let him linger as you closed your eyes,“I.. I’ll be back, baby.” With a final, agonized look at you, he turned and left, leaving you alone in the wreckage of your shattered trust.

The silence enveloped you, broken only by your ragged breaths and the echoes of his footsteps fading away. You hugged yourself tightly, trying to hold together the pieces of your heart that he had callously shattered.

As the tears continued to fall, you felt a different kind of ache—the ache of knowing that the love you had believed in was now a painful memory because yes, he was coming back but you wouldn’t be here.

Later, Lando would enter the house in hopes of finding you but just like his worst nightmare, you wouldn’t be there. You wouldn’t be there to hold him as he’ll slowly lose it running across the house while he’ll look for you. None of your things would be there.

Yes, he destroyed you but also himself.

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[ozzgin]

The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!

Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!

If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate:

Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader

AKA: When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates.

The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.

Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"

A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.

Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."

He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.

As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.

One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.

"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.

"I know."

[soulwrencher]

how would it taste, and the way you move

summary: ellie takes you back to her place after patrol, letting you take a closer look at her tattoo but you find yourself eating her out instead.

warnings: not proof read, nsfw

"you thought that was off-putting?" you gasp and slowly chuckle at the sight of ellie's forehead forming wrinkles as she raises her eyebrows. "i mean, how would you like it if i went—" she scoots closer, her eyes searching for yours. inhaling sharply, she waits a second, or two, before she wiggles her head like a bobblehead. her mouth is wide open, she's screaming silently, only the air rolling over her tongue is audible.

"no way," you burst out into laughter, and she does too. suddenly the fairy lights over her couch seem much brighter, you notice the warm tones illuminating her face, shining onto the ridges of her scars. "so... how did you like that?" she rubs her shoulder, a scoff escaping underneath her breath.

"can you blame me though? i totally panicked when i saw that crack on your mask," apologetic eyes, how could ellie ever be upset with you? it might've not been the smartest thing to do, screaming at the top of your lungs while you just finished dealing with several clickers. she just thought it was sweet that you cared for her, although anyone would react the same way, but for some reason she likes to read more into your actions. no specific reason, she just had a soft spot for you, that's what the auburn-haired woman would tell herself when she would lay awake at night thinking of you.

"guess i owe you a more throughout explanation then," she says, her mind overly aware of the fact that your shoulders are touching. you tilt your head towards her in anticipation, exposing the skin on your neck. her eyes trace the way the light is illuminating you, from your nose bridge to your jaw, down to your collarbone all the way to your shoulder.

ellie shuts her eyes close once, inhales and exhales deep twice. she watches your eyes wander down to her forearm closely as she rolls up the sleeve to expose her tattoo. you've always been curious about seeing it up close, you couldn't lie about the fact that you thought that it made her insanely attractive. objectively, of course.

"you see this?" her soft tone pulling you out of thought. she tilts her head, eyes lingering on yours. green eyes, you want to get lost in them. you scrunch up your face at that thought, you're not supposed to have thoughts like these, you tell yourself. you squint, trying to see what she's pointing at. "hold up," ellie reaches out for your hand, but she stops herself. "can i?" she asks, you nod.

the second the tip of her fingers touch the back of your hand, it sent shivers all over your skin. your body couldn't deny what your mind has been trying to any longer.

she gently makes you form a fist, pressing every finger of yours down leaving out your index finger. her thumb glides over your palm as she wraps her fingers around your wrist, pulling your hand softly towards her forearm for you to feel. it was mesmerizing watching her put so much care into such a simple action that it made you become self-conscious over the speed of your heartbeat and the heat creeping up your face.

you avert your gaze rapidly towards her tattoo, feeling the textured parts of her skin.

"oh," it escapes your mouth, your eyes widen in embarrassment. you didn't mean to, your mind was racing. "yeah, i was bitten, it looked like shit," she chuckles, her eyes focused on the back of your hand. "but i covered it up, pretty neat, huh?" ellie continues, as she slightly twists her forearm to the left and right underneath the fairy lights. "yeah, you look really good,"

"i do?" ellie blushes. she can't read too much into it, but it's already too late. the words have left your lips already, you can't take it back, you're visibly embarrassed.

but seeing her reaction, seeing her freckles drown in the pink of her cheeks, maybe it wasn't so bad. perhaps you really didn't mind seeing her get all flustered like this over a singular compliment. and while your mind begs you to pull yourself together, you've been dying to know what it felt like to let your guard down for once.

"yeah, i think you look really good," you repeat once more, carefully watching her. "thank you," her voice is low and soft, she can't ignore her racing heart any longer. just a soft spot, but was that really it? why would ellie's heart jump at you finding her decent?

"you're really pretty too," she says, inching a little closer. she holds her breath, anticipating your reaction. but she couldn't see coming that you were reaching for the side of her cheek, cupping her face in your hand. you've been wanting to do this, wanting to close the distance, you wanted her and she did too. and as the fairy lights emit the warmth coming from your bodies, you lose yourself in short, desperate kisses.

her hands searching your body, eyes adoring every inch of your skin, something ellie dreamed of each night she couldn't sleep and every time she's been on patrol with you, she couldn't help but wonder what's been hiding underneath those clothes of yours. undressing you, that's all she could think of and you could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her fingers dragged over the only skin that was exposed. but you've been craving for her more, so you push her gently against the armrest of the couch, the auburn-haired woman was quivering under your touch already.

"you seem so tough, but i know," you whisper as you gaze down on her. "you know what?" she looks up to you through her lashes, fuck did she look pretty.

"i know how soft you are," you go on, as you play with the rim of her shirt. you feel her skin heat up, she's looking away, inhaling deeply while in thought before her green eyes pierce through you and waver your confidence. "if you start something now," she begins, while adjusting her body to place her veiny hands on your waist. "it's gonna be hard to stop me," she continues, gaze lingering on you. you hold her hands on your waist and move them up to your face, still holding them. you've let your guard down already, and the way she's been looking at you has left you throbbing, so you weren't going to stop here.

"keep up then," you say as you make ellie slightly part her legs to allow space for your knee in between, her soft lips are on yours.

ellie has been dying to know what you've tasted like. but your knee being dangerously close to her pussy was distracting her, she wanted more, she wanted for you to actually touch her. her arms around your neck, you begin to undress her while dragging your lips down her neck all the way to her sternum.

"fuck, they're gorgeous," you exhale as you cup her tits. you squeeze and knead, making her inhale sharply. ellie winces and a little noise escapes her mouth, enough to drive you crazy. you accidentally shove your knee in between her legs as you lean forward to pull down her pants and watch her bite down a moan, fuck, you want to go crazy on her. but you have to hold back, you tell yourself. not until her panties reveal the wet spot that her pants have been hiding.

"is this okay?" you ask, she nods hastily. you tease her swollen lips through the fabric, making her move her hips desperately to feel more. "so you're just gonna tease me?" ellie says breathlessly. you get on your knees, move the fabric to the side and spread her lips, exposing her clit. "you look so pretty like this," you whisper over her clit, making her grab onto your hair. she couldn't take any of this teasing any longer, ellie desperately wanted for you to make her feel good, to eat her out. her clit has been throbbing ever since you've been here, craving your touch.

how could you resist when ellie was this wet for you, when she's been squirming and tugging your hair, you've never seen this side of her. you drag your tongue over her clit, all the way up and then back down, curving your tongue slightly into her hole.

"fuck, more," ellie moans, thighs squeezing your head as she throws back hers, she felt the sensation all over her body. she's so wet, sucking on her clit makes you have to swallow, but you absolutely love the way she tastes. you let your tongue circle around, just a little more.

"please, if you just—" you go right over her cunt, tugging her between your lips, curving your tongue up and down while putting more pressure on her clit. ellie grabs your hair and moves her pelvic floor like crazy, the way you were eating her out makes her feel like she just ascended, she wants to go higher, she wants you to take her there.

her moans and grunts only turn you on more and more. she sounds so pretty that you want to keep her all to yourself but you knew she wasn't yours to have.

"you make me feel so good, please keep going," the auburn-haired woman begs, the desperation oozing out from her voice. it didn't matter if she wasn't yours to have, all that did matter is that she wants you know, she's been screaming and moaning your name, trembling at your touch, rolling her eyes back at the feeling. you're the one in control, and you're surprised she even let you. she might not be yours, but no one knows that ellie enjoys being taken care of, that she enjoy you taking care of her. and so she moans your name as she cums into your mouth, she's been so wet that her juices have covered your whole lower half of your face and you loved every second of it.

you get up but stay close, her eyes are searching for yours. you wrap your arms around her and pull her into a kiss, she looks so pretty like this, illuminated by the lightening. her freckles are so pretty, you don't want to leave yet. but were you ready to be bold?

"you wanna wash up and grab something to eat?" you ask, your voice low, what if she rejected you? a grin spreads over her lips. "we could get high and watch something too," ellie adds as she plays with your hair. "sounds good to me," you say, kissing her cheek.

a/n: hey sorry for lying that i'm gonna drop a part two of something i wrote a month ago im sorry i lie alot but here's reader eating ellie out i hope that's good enough LOL

[yanderenightmare]

Mahito x darling

TW: NSFW, noncon, psychological torture, Mahito in and of himself

fem reader

Mahito is so scary because you're the only one who sees him. 

You can't tell your friends, you can't call the cops, you can't even discuss it with your therapist for fear of being committed. 

You're all alone with him – half the time convinced you’re going insane.

He doesn't even need to kidnap you. Why would he? He likes your cozy apartment. To see you in your natural habitat with all your personal trinkets. Your books, your decorations, the contents of your fridge, your makeup, your clothes, not to mention the soft warmth of your bed…

Sure, his sewer has its charm, but you probably wouldn’t like it there very much. Not that it would stop him, but he’s sure you’d be boring if all you did was stay cooped up there all day. 

This is much more interesting. To be there when you come home from work, having trifled through all your belongings, dragged everything out – made a mess like a new puppy would. To watch you try to cling to your sanity, going about life, trying to live it normally even when he’s right there on your sofa wanting to dish about how much you loath your pissy boss or that loud neighbor and what fun it might be to kill them.

You brush him off as intrusive thoughts – a manifestation within your mind. That’s the only explanation that allows you to keep your wits with you.

But it’s become hard to bring anyone home. Even though others can't see him, he’ll walk about your friends and the odd date and comment on all the things they do, ridiculing them when they say something cheesy, feigning puking before giving it away with a snicker, then asking you why you bother hanging out with them at all. And you wonder if that’s what you really think… why else would a figment of your imagination say something like that?

No. You decide. He doesn’t represent your thoughts. He’s just… a roommate who knows no boundaries. 

Funny enough, you don’t really recognize that he’s any dangerous before you’re getting dressed after a shower, opening a drawer on your dresser you rarely look in – only to find it overfilled with dozens of tiny shrunken heads.

You scurry back on the floor with your hand clasped over your mouth until your back meets your bed – skin crawling. There’s no air left in your lungs from the shock to produce any such thing as a scream – so instead, you start heaving – then crying.

“Oh – I was wondering when you’d find them!” A cheer is heard from your bedroom threshold.

Your eyes pan to look at him – or it. Mahito, with a big grin on his face – clapping as though impressed by your performance.

“Wh-what – what is this?” You splutter, trying not to throw up – casting shifty glances over at the lump that had fallen to the floor – its face twisted with agony, unrecognizable, but you think you still knew… “What have you done?”

It doesn’t smell of rot, but something else – like unwashed clothing – sweat and piss and shit – you don’t understand how you hadn’t smelled it before. You don’t understand how you hadn’t heard it before – the moaning, though only in hoarse weak voices, still there, in a chorus, crying in pain.

“I’ve been studying them.” He says – casually, padding across the floor before bending down to pick the one up.

He looked at it with disappointment, throwing it up and catching it like one would a baseball – then clicked his tongue. 

“But I must say you’ve got boring taste… I don’t feel like I learned much of use from any of them at all.” 

He drops it to the floor in a fleshy splat, and you cringed anew – wanting to crawl away, wanting to get out, to call the police – maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to be committed – maybe there was something genuinely wrong with you…

Mahito doesn't share your concerns, though. He’s got his mind on other things. 

“I think I’ll learn better through practice.”

You don’t realize what he’s talking about before you’re being lifted up on the bed and then pushed down against it.

His lean but muscular frame has you dwarfed as he crawls after you – caging you between his arms and legs.

“I wouldn’t mind the floor, but I’m sure you’d prefer the bed. That’s how you humans usually like it, right?” He smiles – as though he’s doing you a favor. 

He’s taken off his usual tunic – showcasing a pale grey chest patchworked together in crude stitches – and you don’t really understand why you’d ever conjure something that looked like it. So human, yet still… so not. 

“I didn’t know what size you’d want – they were all so different – but I think bigger is better, isn’t it?”

It doesn’t register before you feel the weight of it on your stomach. 

Fat and warm, ridged with veins and hard against you. 

Looking down, feeling the situation settle on your skin like the raw cold – you realize, though you don’t understand it – Mahito isn’t just some imaginary friend. 

Whatever he is – he’s no such thing as a friend at all.

Your chest flares. “Mahito, no – ”

Your hands fly to try and push him off, but they’re easily caught. His fingers stretch inhumanly like playdough, using only one hand to reign in both wrists, pinning them to the pillow above you.

“No? Still too small?” He asks, as though your uproar had been a cry for more – his voice in a playful lilt. “I can make it bigger if you like~”

You squirm when the thing between your thighs grows an inch – swelling up into something fatter than your wrist – weighty and twitching atop you. 

It alone churns your guts, but the sight of his face gleaming so innocently makes it all so much worse. 

You whimper as he drags a rude finger through your folds – bluntly poking at your hole.

“You’re supposed to be wet, no?” He posed, keen eyes watching your face grimace in discomfort – drilling his digit inside you despite it. 

When knuckle-deep, he curled it, nail scraping into the gummy of your tender walls – making your whole body twist with an ache, shaking your head while sinking your teeth into your lip.

“Stop-” You croaked pitifully, still trying to wring your wrists free – but the hand keeping them jailed had hardened into something that was no longer skin.

He just yawned at your struggle. “So noisy...” Bored while looking down at you and the ugly way your lips curled at his crude fingering – but then his eyes widened. “Wait – oh! I get it now! So, this is what kissing is for…”

He didn’t give you much time to turn away before his mouth locked on yours – more in an attempt to swallow than to kiss, feeding you his tongue – which felt so much longer than it should be – winding through you until it licked your gag-reflex and made you choke.

You tensed in response, clenching the finger prodding you – and he took it as an invitation to squeeze another in – making you squeal out a sob in his mouth. 

But though it was a cruel ministration, it was enough to tickle the instinct – dragging wet out from within you, bathing the digits that now slid with greater ease in and out.

“See~ I told you I’d learn better through practice...” He mumbled against your lips – having felt the change – also noticing the quiet that befell you… looking so cute beneath him. 

He chuckled – the taste of your kiss still warm and wet on his lips.

“That really did shut you up, hm~ you humans are so funny.”

That thing resting heavily on your belly does a little jump, and you flinch with it. Left panting after being throat-fucked by a tongue – you’re really only able to shake your head as he slips the beastly thing down between your thighs – its fat head licking your clit on its way until kissing your entrance.

Two fingers haven't done you any justice – nothing could – to prep you for something of that size.

“I think this is correct…” He muses, nudging himself against the slim coin-sized hole – looking a little confused while he did so – though not exactly unsure of himself… more as though it was the whole procedure in and of itself that was at fault and not him. He was just following instructions, after all.

Sucking his teeth at the tautness, he continued to press the tip through you. 

A whine was ripped from your chest as it arched off the bed – thighs quaking on each side of his hips, kept spread despite wanting to force themselves shut.

“It’s better if you relax.” He offered then, though without much sympathy. Sounding almost jaded – as though you were keeping him waiting. 

But then a thumb pressed down on your clit, forcing another jolt to rush through you. 

“Women like to be touched here, right?” He rubbed crass circles into it – worse than amateurishly – rough patterns that bore no real intention of making you feel good. 

Then his mouth slid from your mouth, down your neck – only to sink teeth in your tit.

“And here~” He giggled while nomming your nipple, rolling the little nib between his teeth before flicking over it with his tongue again and again, sucking on it harshly.

None of it made you relax like he’d suggested. Either way, he continued to sink his length one thick chub at a time as fast as your hole allowed. And soon enough, he reached your end before your hole could reach his. But that was no issue…

The hand on your clit, cupped your mound instead – and beneath it, where warmth pooled, you felt inner things alter – change, rearrange, allowing the giant member inside you to sink deeper even though you knew there couldn’t possibly be any deeper to go.

“Wow~ look at that…” He awed when his pelvis smushed against your mound – kneading into your clit as he pressed a curious hand down on the bulge he was making in your belly.

Strings of drool stuck from his lips to your chest – and a sick look pooled in his eyes.

Thicker and thicker breaths left him. He swallowed thickly. Barely blinking.

“I think I get it now…” His voice had shed its humorous tone, now sounding soft with something you didn’t want to have the attention of. “It’s like our souls are playing together…” 

His hand stroked your stomach – like he was petting something.

“Feels good.”