#and then made this post and now i'm gonna watch it yay

[gldrushh]

GUILTY AS SIN? | JK | PART 𝐈

"You are stuck in time, and Jungkook doesn't stop running from it until he eventually does, and you learn that grief doesn’t wait for death, that love isn't all that dignifying."

→ Pairing brother in law!Jungkook × widowed fem!reader

→ Genre forbidden love! au, childhood friends to lovers, angst, smut

→ W.C 17. 32k

→ Warnings unrequited love :(, oc is in love with his older brother, early character death of the said older brother who is haunting the narrative, cute childhood sweethearts who are doomed by me, mentions of dealing with grief and acceptance, mention of cancer, a minor scene where harassment is attempted,emotionally troubled! oc, emotionally troubled and detached! jk, simp jk, pathetic man in love, he's so so lovesick, ceo! jk, protective jk, yearning, pining, loads of angst, fluff if you squint, breif yoongi mention, namjin yay!!,rich people party, mentions of anxiety,sexual tension,slow burnish,smut (omg everyone look away), kissing, unprotected sex (raw and deep, next question),dirty talking, oc is insecure,hickies,oral (f! Receiving), he cums in his pants,big dick jk, soft Dom Jungkook, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie, praise, cuddles if you squint again

→ Playlist Guilty as sin, control, killing me softly with his song, do I wanna know?

→ A/N the idea of this one shot came to me at 1 am when I was supposed to be studying for a test that probably my future depends upon and after much much complementing I'm finally posting it. To me, its very experimental and I was just trying to explore my writing style and writing things that I haven't before, like smut 🫠 so please please bear that in mind!! I hope you enjoy reading and if you did please comment!! It makes my whole day 🥰💕💕

P.S: cross posted on wattpad.

| PART 1 | PART 2 |

It is a believed fact that it takes three to four short months to fall in love. 

For you, it took one summer. The summer spent watching him sketch galaxies in the dirt with a twig, summer spent learning the way his laughter sounded after stealing popsicles from the freezer, summer spent holding his hand as they made paper planes under the blazing sun. It was the kind of love that grew roots so deep, you couldn’t separate where he ended and you began.

That summer, you met Minho. The boy next door with a mind as wild as his curls and a heart so warm it seemed to shine blindingly bright. He showed you how to climb trees, told stories he'd crafted all by himself, convincing you that the universe could be held in the palm of your hand. He shared his world with you, and you fell in love with it.

You kissed his cheek on the porch of your house one late July evening, bold and brimming with the kind of confidence only childhood summers could bring. “Now you’re gonna have to marry me, Min Min,” you teased, hands behind your back, your toes curling against the wooden floorboards.

He blushed, a shade of red that rivaled the setting sun, but his grin mirrored yours.

The porch of your house was a witness to many things. Your first steps, held your first scraped knees, your first dog and Minho's new brother; your new friend.

A boy of your age, younger than Minho had appeared from right behind him, his hands clutching onto Minho's flannel, his watchful eyes going everywhere all at once. The kind of boy who never spoke unless he had to, the kind who was more familiar with loss than comfort, lingering on the edges of things, unsure if he belonged.

Jungkook.

Now, Jeon Jungkook.

You and his brother had taken it upon themselves to bring him into your fold, turning your duo into a trio. With time, he laughed with you both, trusted you both, became one of you both.

The three of you were inseparable— in the backyard of your house, in elementary school, in high school. How could you not be? You had tied the promise in the form of handmade friendship bracelets around the wrist of both boys.

Even though what you wanted with minho was far from friendship. A bold dreamer, you always have been. But not so much when you turned sixteen. Sixteen; what a awkward age.

An age of overthinking haircuts, dreams, and the lives your peers are gonna live all at once. Visits to the school councilor are doubled. Relationships happen; Friends part.

But you only grew closer with Jungkook. He didn’t seemed interested in making a move on the timid, short haired girl who passed him notes in chemistry class, neither did he talk much about the future. When you asked him what he wanted to do, he’d shrug and say something like, “Whatever makes sense at the time.” He wasn’t aimless, exactly—just grounded in a way that made you think he didn’t feel the need to plan everything out.

Minho, though, was spiraling.

He now spent more time with the councilor that he spent with you both. Had this bitter look on his face every morning you saw him on the bus stop that will have you sharing a knowing look with Jungkook—Minho had been having a lot of fights with his dad, had been overthinking a lot more because the world seemed so much bigger than he had imagined.

Maybe for the eldest son and heir to a family that ran a company as old as the town itself, the world really was big. But to you, he was just a hopeful boy with all the colors in his eyes. The colors that you loved. The colors that didn't belong in a office, crunching numbers.

Your heart ached for him, but you didn’t know what to say. At sixteen, nobody has the answers.

Seventeen is a different story. It's a starlight dream. It's you acing the college entrance test. It's Minho surfacing back. It's Minho kissing you on that very same porch, promising, “One day, we’ll have our own porch, and I’ll kiss you there every day.”

And he was one to keep his promises.

You married him at twenty-five, in crisp autumn. To your family and friends, it was "About time." To you, it was nothing short of a dream as you walked to promise forever to the man you love, a vision in white. It was nothing big, just a dreamy intimate affair with soft twinkling string lights. Something you both agreed on. Because you were content with what you had, overjoyed actually after picking out a quite cozy apartment for the both of you and landing a job as a humanities professor in a university that wasn't too far from the said apartment. Minho was too and while things weren't the same with his father now, he did what he loved. Ever the artist at heart.

It was like everything you ever wrote in your middle school diary, everything you wished for was now laid under your feet like a carpet unfolding.

You were given a good time before it started pulling away from your feet.

At first, it was subtle. A missed dinner here, a canceled hangout there. Then he told you both he’d taken up an opportunity abroad to manage the family business, something Minho had no interest in, just on the night of your wedding after he had fulfilled his role of the groom's best man, watched you walk down the aisle.

You hadn’t seen the decision coming—not that night, not like this—but you couldn’t deny it either. Jungkook had seemed restless here, especially after finishing college.Conversations with him in those days had been brief, distracted, his eyes darting to the distance even as he smiled at you. It felt as you were trying to talk to the Jungkook who had appeared on your porch the first time. He hadn’t asked for understanding, and you hadn’t known how to offer it. His reasons were vague, more like placeholders for something unsaid. And so he left, quietly, with little fanfare, and though Minho seemed sad to see him go, you could tell he understood.

“It’s good for him,” Minho had said. “He deserves something for himself.”

Relationship happened; Friends parted.

You weren't sure if you understood. While you agreed with Minho, you couldn’t help but feel the loss of a friend now that his calls became less frequent until they stopped altogether. One day, he was simply gone, leaving behind only the memory of the boy who had once trusted you with his rare, precious smiles.

"You’d laugh if you saw me right now. I tried to fix the leaky sink in the kitchen, and now the entire floor is flooded. Minho’s being no help—just standing there laughing."

"Hey, stranger. Our anniversary is next weekend. We’re just doing a small dinner. You should come. Seriously, koo, don’t make me guilt-trip you."

"Saved you a slice of cake, but Minho ate it. You’d better show up next year, or I’ll stop saving you anything."

"Hey, Koo. Just checking in. Hope you're healthy and happy. Would love to hear from you"

You'd text him timely, in hopes that he still knows how to use a phone. But apparently, not.

Still, you had Minho. Your husband, your best friend.

Until you didn't.

Until the carpet was at last, snatched right down from your feet.

The diagnosis came in the spring. It started with a faint weakness in his voice. A shortness of breath he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Just tired,” he’d say, smiling that same easy smile. But tired turned into tests. Tests turned into results. And results turned into a diagnosis that was oh so cruel.

Leukemia. Early stages. Aggressive.

The months that followed were a blur of hospital visits, treatments, and quiet nights where you held him as he cried. You tried to be strong, for him, for both of you. Told him what the doctor in the sterile white office will tell you. "They've caught it early so we're not at a great risk here." You'd reassure him. "You have yet to get away from me, min min." You'd try making him laugh but he had always been better at that.

Now, suddenly he wasn't. The next two years, your life was just the slow, agonizing process of watching the man you loved fade away, losing every bit of his lively soul to the cancer, holding his hand when he was too weak to hold yours back.

Perhaps it wasn't only Minho who was chipping away. It was you too.

You turned into the woman who knew exactly how to track medication schedules, who could list every side effect of his treatment in order of severity, who spoke with doctors as if reciting a memorized script. You learned how to bite back the frustration when he snapped at you because he was in pain, and how to smile when all you wanted was to scream at the unfairness of it all.

You started to measure time not in days or months but in cycles of chemotherapy, in percentages of remission and relapse. Life was divided into hours spent in sterile hospital rooms, waiting for results that were never as hopeful as you needed them to be, and hours spent at home trying to pretend those results didn’t exist.

You had stopped dreaming. And minho had stopped painting.

Grief doesn’t wait for death— or so you've realized as you often found yourself grieving the life you had built together, the one you knew would never be the same. You grieved the sound of his laugh, which became quieter as the months passed. You grieved the way he used to tease you about your love for terrible reality shows, You grieved the mornings spent tangled together, talking about everything and nothing.

By the time the end came, you had already lost so much of him that you thought you might be prepared.

You weren’t.

And then he was gone.

With an, "I'm sorry. I love you." He was gone.

The house was too quiet without him, the days too long. You withdrew, not just from the world but from yourself, letting grief shape the edges of your existence.

The world moved on, even if you didn’t. They tell you how long it takes to fall in love but not how long it takes to get over it.

2 years, 240 days. And you're still counting.

Time passed in pieces—fractured and unrelenting.

Your family, Minho’s family, even well-meaning friends—none of them knew what to do with the mess you’d become, so they did what people often did. They tried to fix it. To fix you.

Blind dates were their answer, little nudges toward what they called healing. The word had been said so many times it began to lose its meaning. Healing. As if it were something—a destination you could stumble upon.

You didn’t have the energy to argue anymore, so you let them dress you up, hand you phone numbers, and convince you that this—whatever this was—was what you needed.

But your heart wasn’t in it.

Because as the man sat in front of you in the dimly lit bar continued to talk about how his ex couldn't handle his success, the trials of being a man with ambition, you really couldn't even bother to pretend you were interested. He was nice enough—tall, well dressed (consdering the dingy bar) with a confident smile but your thoughts kept drifting, as they often did.

2 years, 240 days since Minho had died.

2 years, 240 days of waking up alone in your bed, his side untouched.

2 years, 240 days of trying to find your way back to the woman you used to be.

“Hey,” the man interrupted your thoughts, leaning forward with an eager grin. “I feel like I’m talking too much. Tell me about yourself. What do you do for fun?”

You forced a smile, your stomach twisting. “I paint. It’s... therapeutic.”

“That’s nice,” he said, reaching across the table to touch your hand. You pulled back instinctively, your stool scraping against the floor. His brows furrowed.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I just—”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said, but his tone was tighter now. He leaned back, shrugging as if trying to dismiss the moment. “You know, you should loosen up a little. You’ll never find anyone if you keep acting like you’re still married.”

The words hit you like a slap, your chest tightening as you struggled to process the audacity of his statement. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring the warning in your tone, “you should give people a chance. I mean, you’re here, right?” He smirked and stood, coming around the table. “Let me take you home. We can—”

“Stop,” you said sharply, rising to your feet.

But he didn’t listen. His hand reached for your arm, his grip firm.

Then, just as suddenly as he’d grabbed you, he was gone.

The man stumbled backward, a hand jerking him by the collar. The force was so swift, so unexpected, that it took you a moment to register what had happened.

And then you saw him.

“..Jungkook?” The name caught in your throat as you turned.

You took in the man standing before you, taller and broader than you remembered, the years etched into the sharp lines of his jaw and the set of his shoulders. His dark eyes were fixed on the man who had dared to touch you, glinting coldly.

His voice was low, dangerous. “She said stop. I suggest you listen.”

For a moment, the world tilted.

You weren’t in a dingy bar anymore.

You were standing at the edge of a memory—the first time you’d ever seen Jungkook, the quiet boy who clung to Minho’s shadow.

And the last.

The last time you’d seen him, a looming figure in an ocean of black suits. A barely recognizable shadow among the mourners at your husband's funeral.

Now, standing before you, he was real, tangible—and so was the flood of emotions crashing over you.

It was so loud, you could barely hear as the the man stammered out an excuse, something about a misunderstanding.

“Leave.” Jungkook snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut and bring you back to the moment.

The man hesitated, his mouth opening as though he wanted to argue, but one glance at Jungkook’s expression and he decided against it. Without another word, he turned and stalked out, muttering something under his breath that neither of you caught.

Silence followed.

Only then did you felt his gaze on you. His presence was larger than life, and you were suddenly hyper-aware of how much had changed. How much he had changed. You hadn’t registered that at the funeral. Now, you didn't know what to say, you could hardly manage to look at him. While he wasn't Minho's real brother, didn't share any resemblance with him, it still hurt you, sucked you back into those times when it was the three of you, when it wasn't.

He too didn't reply right away, his gaze searching your face, as though he was also trying to piece together the version of you he remembered with the one standing before him now. When it landed on the arm you were clutching, the arm that dipshit had grabbed, you saw his eyes glint again.

"Did he hurt you?" It sounded more like a demand rather than a question but you couldn't even deciper the words, too focused on how his boyish tone had turned sharper, harder.

"W-What?" You fumble out like a fool.

"Did he hurt you, y/n?" This time, you heard him.

Letting your hand fall, embarrassed, you shook your head, finally managing to utter something sensible out. “No—yeah. I’m fine.”

He glanced back at the door that man had fled from before looking back at you. Finally, he exhaled, his voice low and quiet.

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

You blinked. “My phone?” You don't remember getting a call from anyone but then you realize your battery had died down as you looked down to see your dead device laying flat. "Oh. I didn't realis—"

“Mom said you’d been gone a while. Told me where you were.” He interrupted. There was an edge to his voice now, faint but undeniable.

You feel more embarrassed now that you know it's because of your mother in law's anxious nature that he is here. Your fingers brushed against the strap of your purse, desperate for something to do, something to hold onto as he speaks again. "Are you ready to leave?"

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out before you could think them through. “I can get a cab.”

His brows furrowed, just slightly, and you noticed for the first time the faint shadows beneath his eyes, the hint of weariness in his expression. “It’s late,” he said simply.

"So?”

“So,” he echoed, his tone calm but unyielding, “I’ll take you.”

You hesitated, your pride and your exhaustion warring within you. Finally, you exhaled out in defeat, reaching for your coat. It's just a thirty minute ride. You reassured yourself. It'll be fine.

The cool night air wrapped around you and so did your coat as you stepped outside, and the streetlights cast long shadows that flickered as you walked toward his car. He opened the passenger door for you, his movements deliberate, and waited for you to slide in before closing it softly behind you.

The drive started in silence.

It wasn’t the silence of old friends, the kind that felt easy and safe. This was different—fraught, taut, like a thread stretched too tight.

You stole a glance at him as he started the engine, too aware of the small space you were packed in with him.

“I didn’t know you were back,” you said finally, your statement sounding more accusatory that you or he would have liked.

“Just for a little while,” he replied, his tone ofcourse, unfazed. “Business.”

Buisness. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the word. If someone could look like that word, you thought, it'd be the man in the fine tailored suit with eyes fixed on the road ahead and a rolex that didn't look any more cheaper than the car he was driving and you wondered.

Wondered if the lines of his palms—the callouses from late-night basketball games, the way they had felt solid and familiar when he held yours to steady you on the wobbly bike Minho had convinced you to ride—had changed too.

Had they turned forigen, unyielding? Had time eroded their familiarity?

When the car slowed, you glanced out the window, expecting to see the acquinated sight of your apartment building. But instead, the streetlights gave way to a quieter, darker road. You frowned, turning to him.

“This isn’t the way to my place.”

“I know,” he said simply, not bothering to elaborate. "You're coming with me."

You felt your chest tighten, your pulse quickening as unease prickled at the back of your neck. “Jungkook,” you started, the word heavy with protest.

"Y/N." He ends, sparing you a glance that has you sinking back into your seat, arms folded across your chest like a petulant child that you could swear made his lips twitch at the corner, you could swear you saw your old friend who had grown a sassy tounge at the age of fourteen that'd earn smacks at the head from his older brother for a fleeting cruel second there. But that was it. It was gone as fast as it had appeared, summoning the return of the silence that felt like its own living thing.

The house was still the same.

That was the first thing you noticed as the car slowed down in front of the building that loomed at the end of the road like a memory waiting to consume you.

The overhead lights still flickered faintly, casting shadows across the steps where you and Minho had once sat, daring each other to stay outside until the stars disappeared. Even the smell was the same—faintly woody, with the comforting hint of whatever candle Jungkook’s mom always lit in the hallway.

You hesitated in the doorway, the memories rushing in too fast, too loud. It's not like you haven't been here in ages but since the year you celebrated your first marriage anniversary with Minho here, it felt like you have lived a thousand lives.

Lives that haunted you still, made you randomly pause in the grocery aisle and now before this house until you felt Jungkook’s presence press behind you as if silently urging you on.

Clearing your throat, you slipped out of your heels that have been as much as pain as the man you had been on a date with. The floor creaked softly beneath your feet as you stepped inside, the sound jarring. The same hardwood floors, polished to a faint sheen. The same floral wallpaper lining the hallway. The same photo frames arranged along the wall—a collection of childhoods captured and frozen in time.

But as you glanced toward the corner of the living room where the three of you used to pile up pillows and blankets for makeshift forts. The corner was bare now, save for an old armchair, but in your mind, you saw it vividly: Minho’s determined grin as he shuffled the pillows, Jungkook, always following the lead but never quite competing for it. You would snuggle a pillow to your lap, nestled between the two brothers, peeking from behind your fingers and giggling at the the way Minho’s face would light up in triumph when he won another round of rock-paper-scissors.

A type of smugness that came from knowing he’d get to flick Jungkook’s forehead next. But your smile would fade as soon as you would realize that it's your turn next. “Wait, wait!” you’d plead, wide-eyed, deploying the best puppy-dog look you could muster. It was the same look that had, on occasion, earned you extra TV time with your dad. Jungkook would glance at you and chuckle. Relent like your father would and sheild your forehead with his palm that'd have Minho pouting. "Hey! That's not how you do it!"

"Y/N?" A well recognized voice pulled you back to the where you were supposed to be, back from the fort of pillows and blankets.

You turned around and instantly found yourself wrapped up in a tight hug. You managed a small smile, letting your arms wrap around the warm frame of your mother in law, the scent of her jasmine oil and apprehensive energy pulling you in. "Mom." You greeted back.

Mrs Jeon hadn't always been this.. overbearing. Though after the passing of your husband, she had teamed up with your mother and been on a determined mission to make sure you are well and on a road to healing.

The next few minutes, she did what she had been doing best—fussed over you, asking how you’d been, if you’d eaten, if you were warm enough. In that time being, Jungkook had resigned to wherever his room was.

You planned to do the same, especially now that you could see on her face how she is on the brink of asking about the disaster tonight. You showed some obvious sign of weariness, in hopes she'd let it go for the night and tell you where you're supposed to go to bed for.

"Third on the left, my dear. And I'm gonna need you to stay for breakfast, okay?" You wondered if stubbornness was a running streak in this family.

Hours later, sleep had yet to come.

You lay awake, staring at the ceiling, counting the faint grooves in the plaster as if they could somehow lull you into rest. The trick didn't work. It hadn’t worked in your own apartment either—the one you and Minho had picked out together, picked the colors of the walls together, and argued over where the bookshelf should be. Yet, it was still your space. You could control how you faced the memories there, pacing them, deciding when and how to confront them.

There, at least, you’d managed four or five hours of sleep on a good night. Here? In this house that held so much of him, so much of them, you weren’t sure you’d manage even one.

The room you were led to was neat and welcoming, the kind of space that had been carefully prepared for guests. But there was no comfort to be found in the knowledge that two doors down lay Minho’s childhood room, untouched, a shrine to a boy who grew up into the man you loved and lost.

At some point, you gave up.

Sliding out of bed, you wrapped your arms around yourself as you padded quietly downstairs. The house was silent as you made your way downstairs, the faint hum of the refrigerator the only sound, the indistinct glow from the kitchen spilling into the dimness. You didn’t expect to find anyone there, but as you rounded the corner, your steps faltered.

Jungkook stood by the counter, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, his other resting on the marble surface. His jacket was gone, abandoned somewhere, leaving him in his dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Tattoos.

They sprawled across his skin, intricate designs etched into muscle and sinew, that you didn't think you'd ever see on him.

Perhaps you thought wrong. Perhaps you never knew. Never knew him.

He glanced up, his dark eyes meeting yours that looked just as caught off guard as yours did. For a moment, you didn't feel comfortable moving from your spot until he eventually spoke.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice quiet.

You shook your head, stepping into the kitchen. “Needed some water.” You said and opened a cabinet, finding the glasses exactly where you remembered, and filled one with water.

Behind you, Jungkook leaned against the counter, his presence impossible to ignore. Funny, how he always preferred to blend in the background as a child, now his mere cologne—earthy and warm—demanded attention, filled the room before he had even entered.

“Do you… do you drink often now?” you asked hesitantly, glancing over your shoulder, at the way his fingers curled around the glass, the tattoos on his hand shifting as he tilted it.

“Sometimes.” he said, his tone vague.

If things were anything like before between you two or anything like before at all, maybe you'd have pushed further, asked him if this was growing to be a unhealthy habit.

Now, it didn’t seem right when there was an ocean between you—a chasm of time. Felt intrusive. And you know it would only sound hypocritical from your mouth—talking about unhealthy mechanisms. Hah.

You ended up only nodding and put the washed glass back so you could go back to counting the grooves in the plaster. Resume your restless attempt at sleep.

But Jungkook spoke again.

"How long have you been going on.." He started suddenly, setting his glass down with a quiet clink. His voice was calm, but the muscle in his jaw twitched as he spoke. "These dates?"

You blinked at him, taken aback by the question. "Uh—for a while now, I guess?"

“Are you willing, or are they forcing you?”

The question, the way he asked it—sharp, direct—left you off balance. So did the way he was looking at you now, his eyes no longer holding the casualty as they once did when he had the glass of alcohol in his hand.

“I—” You faltered. “They just want to help. They think it’s time.”

“And what do you want?”

To go back to your room. To ask him what did it even matter to him, after all this time.

But what came out was forthright honesty. “I don’t know,” you admitted, “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

He stepped closer, his feet padding softly against the kitchen floor—a contrast to his rigid frame that now towered just close enough. Close enough to see how his chest rose and fell with every breath. Close enough to see how his eyes lingered on you, like he was trying to unravel something he didn’t understand.

“You don’t have to do anything for them or anyone,” he said, his voice soft but no less rough. “Not if you’re not ready.”

You opened your mouth to respond, to deflect, to do something, but his gaze held you in place, tracing down from the dark circles that weighted your eyes to your parted lips. All you could feel was his gaze burning on you and hear your own pulse in your ears.

“Jungkook…” His name escaped your lips in a whisper, barely audible.

He lingered for a beat longer, his eyes searching yours, then he stepped back, his jaw just as tight. “Get some rest.” He clipped out before he turned and walked away, leaving you alone again.

You didn't got any sleep that night.

8:00'o clock. The time's a etched number in your brain ever since you started your job at the university.

It's a routine that needs no alarm clock. It's a number you keep waiting for as you blink at the time passing. And you're more than eager when the morning comes softly along with smaller needle stopping at 8, sunlight slipping through the curtains in streaks too gentle to match the weight in your chest.

With Minho, you were the one to wake up first but here you find that the house was awake before you.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee drifted through the air, mingling with the faint sound of voices coming from the dining room. Breakfast was warm and lively, much like your mother in law. She greeted you with a brightness that almost made you feel guilty for your somber disposition.

“Good morning!” she said with a smile that could have been plucked from a painting. Reaching for a plate of toast, setting it down in front of the empty seat beside her.

“Good morning.” you murmured, sliding into a chair.

Across the table, your father in law sat at his usual spot, his attention fixed on his phone, only looking up to give you a nod of acknowledgment. You had never fully understood him, not as Minho’s father, not as a man.

Perhaps, It had always been because of the sore spot between him and your husband, the way his father disapproved of his wishes—choosing art over business, passion over practicality. You remembered the arguments you thought would never hear after the age of sixteen, the way Minho would come home, his face tight with frustration. “He doesn’t get it,” he’d say. “He never will.” You saw the way it wore on him, the way he carried the weight of his father’s disapproval like it was stitched into his very skin.

Even now, as you sat across from him, you wondered if he ever regretted it—if he ever wished he had spoken softer, loved louder. But his face was as impassive as ever, his thoughts a mystery.

“Jungkook left early this morning,” his mother said, breaking the silence. “Something about a meeting downtown.”

You nodded, relief washing over you in a way that felt almost shameful. You hadn’t realized how much you were dreading seeing him until you knew you wouldn’t have to.

“Busy as always,” you said lightly, reaching for your coffee.

The conversation drifted into familiar topics—neighbors, extended family, stories you half-listened to with polite nods. The table felt both too full and too empty, the gazes of all the people that sat there never straying to the right one in the left corner, just right beside yours.

The older woman turned to you, her tone bright with enthusiasm.

“There’s a party this weekend,” she said, her smile widening. “Just a small gathering with some friends and business partners. It would be lovely if you came with us.”

The suggestion made you squirm uncomfortably in your chair. “Oh, I don’t think—”

“It’ll be good for you,” she interrupted gently, her gaze soft but insistent. “Everyone would love to see you.”

You hesitated, the thought of mingling with people, of putting on a brave face for strangers already making you want to go back to bed. “I’m not sure I’d be good company,” You glanced towards your father in law, half-hoping he might say something to discourage the idea, but he couldn't be any less bothered.

“Nonsense!” she pressed. “You don’t even have to stay long. But it would mean so much to us.”

There was no malice in her persistence, no attempt to guilt you, just a genuine desire to include you in their lives. You couldn’t bear to disappoint her.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”

Her face lit up with a smile. “Wonderful. Jungkook will pick you up and bring you there. That way, you don’t have to worry about driving.”

You froze, cup midway to your mouth. "There's no need for that, mom."

"Oh hush." she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “He’ll be coming from the office, so it’s no trouble.”

You nodded slowly, your appetite not too great or you just wanted to get out of here.

8'30. You glanced at the rose gold wrist watch, your first anniversary gift. Your first class is due in an hour, the perfect excuse wrapped around your wrist which you use to excuse yourself from the suffocating walls that always feel like they are closing in on you.

You have come to prefer the morning buzz of the university more—the hum of young adults chatting in the hallways, the scrape of chairs against tiled floors.It was a rhythm you found comforting, predictable in its own way. Here, you were just a professor, the one who explained history and philosophy with hands that only shook sometimes.

The teenage year you would have thought predictable as boring but you— a woman gone through a dubious sets of events found a fellow feeling in it.

Found the task of grading thesis, making power point presentation better than you would have ever imagined.

But Gods, your students need to realize that they can't dump about their toxic ex in every essay. A woman can only take so much.

You were sorting through the said papers in your office when the door creaked open, and a woman peeked her head in, the light from the outside catching in her curly locks.

“You busy?” she asked, her voice light and familiar.

You looked up to see Mira, the economics professor and one of your closest colleagues, walking toward you with her usual warm smile. Mira was more than just a coworker though—being practically family, the wife of Minho’s dark haired cousin who didn’t talk much in family gatherings, and over the years, she had become a friend you could rely on and share lunch with.

“Not for you,” you said, smiling as you waved her in.

She dropped into the chair across from you, setting her bag on the floor. “You look like you didn’t sleep a wink.”

Was it that obvious?

“I didn’t,” you admitted, sighing softly. “I stayed at the Jeons’ last night.”

Her eyebrows rose, but there was something in her eyes—a softness, an understanding—that made you look away for a second. “How’d that go?”

You hesitated, picking at the edge of a notebook on your desk. “It was… fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Jungkook’s back,” you said, and her eyes widened slightly, the topic seeming to catch her attention.

“Really? I didn’t know he was in town.”

“Neither did I, until yesterday.” You shrugged, leaning back in your chair. “Just for a while, though. Business stuff, y'know?”

Mira tilted her head, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. “And how’s that going?”

You frowned, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, but her eyes stayed on you, curious. “I mean, it’s been years, hasn’t it?"

“Yeah,” you said slowly. "It's fine, I suppose. We didn't talk much."

“Hmm.” Mira hummed thoughtfully as if tasting the question she was gonna ask on her tounge. “Are you okay with him being back?”

Were you okay with him behind back? Okay with him stepping in your vicinity after years of acting like you were not even family, let alone a friend?

“I don’t know,” you admitted finally. “It’s strange seeing him again after all this time. But he’s been… kind. Quiet, mostly.”

Mira didn’t press further, but there was something in her expression that made you uneasy, as if she knew something you didn’t.

You cleared your throat, desperate to change the subject. “There’s a party this weekend. His mom invited me. Please tell me you’re going.”

Mira winced, her smile apologetic. “Date night with the husband. Non-negotiable.”

"Oh." You tried not to show the dejection on your face but it was there. "Lucky you."

She studied you for a moment, her expression gentle. “Are you okay with going?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I feel like I have to.”

“You don’t have to do anything for them. Not if you’re not ready.”

If only he understood how much easier it was to do things for others than to face yourself.

“Y/N…” Her voice softened, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to say more. Instead, she reached out and squeezed your hand. “You’ll be fine. And if you’re not, you can text me. I’ll make up some excuse to get you out of there.”

You smiled, grateful for her before bidding bye to her for her next class and focusing back on the pending work spread across your desk while simultaneously going through your closet in your mind.

Minho had always said red made the brown of your eyes excel more.

And you have really tried to believe it, looking at yourself from above your shoulder, from the side of your arm in the mirror but perhaps it's not only this red, off shoulder dress that's not doing your eyes justice. It's every color you have once known, once loved.

It's like, it's you that's not doing them justice.

As you stared into the mirror, your eyes flitting from one detail to the next—the slightly uneven tuck of fabric, the exposed skin of your collarbone—it felt wrong.

The little things were missing—his hands fixing the clasp of your necklace, his voice telling you not to overthink it, that you looked beautiful. That it didn’t matter what you wore, because it was you who wore it.

But he wasn’t here.

With a sigh, you adjusted the necklace you had chosen yourself, a simple silver chain that rested delicately against your collarbone. The mirror wasn’t forgiving, but you looked anyway, searching for something familiar in your own reflection. You smoothed your hands over the fabric, told yourself this was just another party, and dodged the doubts of this being a mistake.

The knock at your door came too soon, sharp and punctual, like everything Jungkook had become.

You felt your stomach clench, nerves twisting with something else you couldn’t name. Smoothing your dress one last time, you crossed the small space of your apartment, pausing just before the door.

When you opened it, Jungkook was standing right before you.

He had stood on the edge of cliffs where oceans met skies too, in countless countries at that, walked through streets that droned with history. Scrawled through the wonders of the world—the kind that made poets immortalize them in verse—but nothing—nothing—would ever measure up to this.

To you.

You, standing in the doorway, framed by the soft glow of the hall light, your hair falling in waves that he had memorized long ago.

His chest tightened, the memory of another doorway bleeding into the moment as gaily as if it had just happened. He had been in the room meant for waiting, where your parents had sat moments before, your mother sniffling into a tissue, your father pacing in his polished shoes. Now it had been his turn.

The thought alone of being the second person to see you before you walked away from him for good had made his tie that he had been trying to get the hang off felt too stressed around his neck, his palms clammy despite the air conditioning. He rubbed them on his pants, glancing at the small clock on the mantle every few seconds. The minutes dragged, each one seemed longer than the other.

What would you look like?

The thought ran circles in his mind, only for a creak of the door to startle him back.

Footsteps had echoed in the quiet, minimizing the distance until he could practically feel the nervous energy of a bride bounce against his. "Okay. You can turn around now." He had heard you speak, had seen the skittish smile on your face before he even turned around.

And when he did, he felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room.

The dress hugged you like it had been designed with only you in mind, its soft fabric flowing as if in defiance of gravity. Your veil cascaded behind you, catching the light, and your smile was small, almost shy, as you looked up at him, waiting for his reaction.

“Well?” you prompted, turning slightly, your hands brushing the fabric at your sides. “What do you think?”

What did he think? He thought the universe was wicked for allowing him to witness this and still expect him to let you go.

He had swallowed hard, forcing his voice to steady when he finally said, “You look—” His tongue had faltered over every adjective that came to mind. Beautiful wasn’t enough. Breathtaking felt like a cliché. “Perfect.”

You—Beautiful, Devastatingly, so.

You—who weren’t his to look at this way.

He feels his breath catch, his hands clenching at his sides to keep himself from reaching for you.

Because while that version of you had been a dream, this version—worn, weathered, but still so unmistakably you—was real. And the reality of you had always been what he wanted most.

Fuck. He shouldn’t be here.

He shouldn’t have agreed to pick you up, shouldn’t have stepped into this space, should have kept the distance he had spent years bridging.

But he has always found himself hopeless and running back to wherever you were concerned, hopeless in a way that had him studying for a test he didn’t even have to keep you company or show up.. here. Content to be near you in whatever capacity he could. He told himself it was enough. That it would be enough to watch you from the sidelines, to sit across from you at family dinners.

It wasn’t.

Because Jungkook wasn't a virtuous man. He never had been.

Virtue belonged to his brother—the one who could weave dreams out of thin air, who saw the world in colors Jungkook had never learned to name. His brother—Minho—who had been the light, the warmth that people, he gravitated toward. He had admired Minho, even envied him, resented him in ways he never admitted aloud and kept it in shadows.

When Minho died, the shadow became a man. And that man had spent years running.

Running into work, into unfamiliar cities, into the kind of purpose that left no room for thought. No room for the times when everything was right, when he tasted family and friendship for the first time ever, no room for the last time he tasted it when you walked down the aisle to his brother looking at him like he was the sun and how it burned, how he had burned with nails biting into his palms.

And only men with no integrity burn. Men who are cowards, restless, afraid of thier own greed try to run, in hopes that the distance would save them.

But distance didn’t save men like Jungkook.

Because here he was again, standing before you, the fire still smoldering.

“Hi,” you said softly, your voice pulling him back, creating a doubt in his belief.

“Hi,” he replied, his own tounge feeling heavy in his mouth.

“You’re early,” you said, your tone carefully light.

He cleared his throat, his hands slipping into the pockets of his slacks in an attempt to keep them to themselves. “Traffic was lighter than I expected. Are you ready to leave?"

You nodded and he stepped back, revealing his sleek Mercedes benz parked just right in front. He let you walk before him, watching how your movements were hesitant, as if the ground beneath your feet wasn’t entirely steady. He wanted to ask you if you were okay. He wanted to tell you it was okay if you weren't.

He settled for opening the car door for you.

“Thanks for this,” you said, your gaze fixed on the passing streetlights. “I know it’s probably the last thing you want to do.”

His grip tightened against the leather of the steering wheel with a force that made his knuckles ache. There was a rancorous way that you spoke to him, carefully restrained, that he couldn't even blame you for.

"It's not." He gritted out. "It's not a problem."

He had earned every inch of this gap between you, had spent years building it brick by brick, mile by mile. He's all to blame for. For carving the space between you with every ignored call, every excuse he made to avoid family dinners where you’d inevitably be.

For the leaving the wreckage in his wake—yours, his, theirs.

It wasn’t fair to hate the consequences of his own choices.

But hell, if he didn't outright loathed feeling like he was staring at a wall of frosted glass when he looked at you—where he could see the outline of you, but the details were blurred, distant. Like he had lost the privilge of knowing you from one glance, lost the privilge of having you speak up to him whenever you wanted, call him out, intoxicate him with your laughter that lightened up a room he wasn't even aware was dark. Found it fucking unbearable.

So much that he felt relief washing over him when the venue of the gathering came in view. A grand mansion, framed by manicured gardens and sprawling oaks that seemed to whisper old secrets to one another. It had a timeless elegance that made you wonder how many lives it had seen pass through its doors.

Small gathering, she said. You scoffed internally at rich people and their definition of small.

“Nice place,” you murmured as you walked beside him, your steps careful on the stone path after the car was eased into a parking spot.

“It’s the Kim's family home,” Jungkook said. You nodded, though the name didn’t spark much recognition. The Kims had been mentioned here and there at family dinners—names dropped in passing between sips of wine and shared laughter. You had barely paid attention then, too busy suppressing laughs at the jokes that Minho whispered near.

The front doors were open, the faint scent of fresh flowers and expensive cologne wafting out to greet you. Inside, the space was as opulent as expected—high ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers, polished floors that gleamed under the soft light, and clusters of well-dressed guests milling about with drinks in hand.

A tall man stood near the entrance, his broad shoulders and sharp jawline making him impossible to miss. Beside him, another man stood with a softer air, his eyes crinkling with warmth as he leaned into the first man’s side.

The taller of the two men turned, his expression lighting up as he spotted Jungkook. “There he is,” He said, his deep voice carrying effortlessly.

"Hyung." Jungkook softened, clasping hands in a firm shake before pulling each other into a brief hug, the kind that spoke of collaboration and respect.

You shifted awkwardly on your feet, your fingers curling around the strap of your purse as you wondered whether to step back and leave him to his conversation or stay and risk being out of place.Would it be rude if you chose the former?

You were saved from your uncertainty when the two of them pulled away from Jungkook and took you in, a gleam of recognition passing through their face. Recognition, shock, then pity. You know how it went.

“You must be Y/N,” the taller one said, his gaze shifting to you with a warm smile.

You blinked, clearly caught off guard by the direct attention. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Kim Namjoon ” he said, offering his hand. “And this is Seokjin, my partner.” You smiled, nodding in acknowledgment before taking the hand of the charming one in the beige suit. “It’s nice to meet you, both. This is a beautiful venue.” You assume that they're the hosts of the party. The Kims that this house belonged to.

“Thank my father for that,” Namjoon said with a chuckle. “Sixty years old and still insists on hosting the most extravagant parties. He’d never let me live it down if I didn’t pull out all the stops.”

“Extravagant is an understatement,” Seokjin chimed in, his tone playful as he glanced at Namjoon. “I’m pretty sure half the flowers in the city ended up here.”

You smiled again, but it faltered when Seokjin's expression changed in a beat.

“We’ve heard a lot about you too,” he said gently, his gaze dipping briefly to Jungkook before meeting yours again.

You tilted your head, curiosity flashing across your face. “All good things, I hope.”

“Of course,” Namjoon assured you. “Your family is well-regarded, and we-we're sorry about Minho. He was brilliant in every sense of the world. We can't even imagin—"

“Thank you,” you said softly, trying really hard to not let the tightening of your throat strain your voice. “He was.”

Jungkook watched as your smile faltered, just slightly, at the mention of Minho. He decided to steer the conversation away but you recovered quickly, offering a polite nod and beat him to it.

There was a brief, loaded pause before you glanced at Jungkook. “I should find mom. She asked me to join her earlier.”

"Yeah, right.” Jungkook said, his voice steady despite the way his chest tightened again when he looked at you.

You walked by Jungkook, brushing close enough that your shoulder brushed against his chest, the faintest hint of your vanilla perfume that was so maddeningly you lingered in the air. He tensed, his breath catching before he could stop it. His fingers twitched at his sides, an almost imperceptible motion, but it was enough.

Subtle as he tried to be, he caught himself leaning slightly, his chest rising with a quiet inhale as though he could take the ghost of your scent and keep it for himself.

"Not as subtle as you think." Seokjin snickered by his boyfriend's side who also raised an eyebrow, his expression knowing and somewhat giving away his discomfort. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

Shit.

Jungkook straightened, his jaw clenching as he avoided their eyes, fixing the collar of his shirt hoping they won't catch on the heat creeping up on his neck too. “Don’t.” he said quietly, his tone low and edged with warning.

"Maybe you don't sniff her like a dog in public? Maybe you have some decorum?" Seokjin judged, proud and loud.

"I have plenty, hyung." The younger male side eyed the older one, his eyes narrowed and the tips of his ears already crimson red like he was a boy caught watching porn for the very first time.

Namjoon sighed, though there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Let him be, honey.”

But the look he gave Jungkook was far from dismissive. It was the kind of look that saw too much, that peeled back layers Jungkook wasn’t ready to confront. Gods, he needed new friends.

He turned his attention back to the crowd where you disappeared.

The soft hum of conversations and the faint clinking of glasses followed you as you weaved through the grand hall, your eyes scanning for your mother-in-law’s familiar figure. The air in the mansion was heavier than it had been when you arrived, the brush of silk against silk, the way every movement seemed calculated, observed, and weighed.

You navigated through the crowd like a ghost in a gallery, your steps measured and slow, eyes flicking to the floor more than once to avoid the speculative stares. With rich circles came dirty gossip—whispered words disguised as laughter, false smiles that hid daggers. You’d learned to let them roll off your back, like rain on stone.

The Jeon matriarch had mentioned being near the back, closer to where the banquet tables were set. You followed the direction she’d gestured toward earlier, passing servers who moved seamlessly with trays of sparkling champagne.

Halfway through the journey, your steps faltered as your gaze landed on the centerpiece of one table—a chocolate fountain. Warm, rich, and cascading like liquid satin, it stood surrounded by an array of treats. Strawberries gleamed like rubies in the low light, their surfaces polished and inviting.

You hesitated, glanced around as if expecting someone to berate you for indulging in something so ordinary, but eventually, you plucked a strawberry and dipped it into the cascading chocolate.

You let the sweetness settle on your tongue, closing your eyes for a brief moment. For the first time all evening, you found this place somewhat tolerable.

Free food always making things better.

“Excuse me, miss.” a small voice piped up beside you, tugging on the flowy end of your dress.

A boy, no older than six or seven, stood by your side, his wide eyes flicking between you and the fountain. He looked as if he had stepped out of a luxury children’s catalog, his little suit tailored perfectly, his bow tie slightly askew. “Can you grab one for me? I’m not allowed to reach it by myself.” he asked, pointing at the fountain. His voice was polite, but there was a hopeful edge to it, as if he wasn’t used to asking for things twice.

“Of course, love.” you said, your lips curving into a small smile. You picked another strawberry, dipping it with care before crouching slightly to hand it to him. "There you go."

“Thank you!” he chirped, grinning immediate and radiant, the kind that softened the edges of a hard day.

"What's your name?" You asked him, crouching down to his level.

“Do-yun!” came a sharp voice, the kind that turned your stomach before your brain even processed it.

Who you assumed was the boy's mother stepped forward, her elegance severe, her lips painted in a red that matched the strawberries. She took her son’s hand but not before her eyes raked over you, head to toe, with an expression that left no room for interpretation.

"What did I tell you about bothering strangers?” she scolded do-yun who stared at the skewer in his hand apologetically.

“He wasn’t bothering me,” you said gently, straightening up and having the woman’s eyes flicker to you again, assessing.

“He just wanted a treat.”

Her eyes flicked to the chocolate fountain, then back to you, her lips pressing into a tight smile. “how kind of you.”

There was no warmth in her tone, no hint of gratitude. Just a faintly dismissive air. And with that, she turned, her child in tow, leaving you with the faint scent of something floral and the taste of bitterness on your tongue.

You'd learned better than to expect warmth from people bound by history.

You'd learned not to mind it. To overlook it. To not pay attention to them at all.

"That's her, isn't she?"

“Such a shame, losing her husband so young.”

“Yes, but you know, they weren’t exactly power players, were they? He was an artist, wasn’t he?”

The words hung in the air like cigarette smoke, acrid and inescapable.

A laugh, soft and cruel. “I suppose she’s lucky the Jeons still keep her close. Poor thing, all alone now. Must be awful.”

You stopped in your tracks. The sharp sting of their voices cut through the party’s hum, louder than the music, louder than your own heartbeat.

You could feel your palms start to get sweaty, eyes suddenly unable to meet anyone's.

Breathe. You reminded yourself.

One: Find your breath.

Two: Focus on something neutral—the fountain, the floor, the chandelier above.

Three: Remind yourself: They don’t know you. Their words are weightless.

But weightless wasn’t the right word.

“Though, you’d think she’d be a bit more modest. That dress isn’t exactly… widow-appropriate, is it?”

You tried to focus on your numbers but you lost it.

You turned, your fists clenched, your lips thinned, the polite demeanor cracking away from your face under the weight of your frustration.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended. “Was there something you wanted to say to my face?”

The women froze, their eyes widening in surprise. One of them, a younger woman with a nervous smile, tried to backpedal. “Oh, no, we didn’t mean—”

“Because if you have an issue with me or my dress, feel free to say it outright,” you continued, your voice clear despite the way your heart hammered in your chest. “I’d hate for you to waste any more time whispering behind my back.”

The group exchanged glances, communicating in a language of their own, you couldn’t care less about. Atleast not in this moment.

“We didn’t mean to offend,” one of them muttered, her tone brittle.

“Of course you didn’t,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “How could I possibly take offense to strangers dissecting my life as if it’s some dinner party entertainment?”

Stupid old hags with no life of their own!

You kept that to yourself.

Then, without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and stormed away.

The chandeliers above blurred as tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now.

You weren’t looking for anything specific—just distance, just air that wasn’t thick with judgment and whispers. A bathroom, maybe, though you weren’t going to ask for directions not when your voice felt like it would crack the moment you opened your mouth.

People brushed past you, their scents of expensive perfumes swirling in the air, their muted voices blending into a hum you couldn’t quite focus on. One or two bumped into your shoulder, but you didn’t apologize, didn’t bother looking back.

You just needed to get away—you just needed out of here.

And then, as if the universe wasn’t finished testing you, a firm hand of another one of a frame you jerked into, closed around your wrist, halting your momentum.

You looked up, brows scrunched, eyes glossy and mouth parting, ready to snap but then you were met with a amicable pair of dark eyes.

A crease of his own wrinkling his forehead as he looked down at you. "Is something wrong?" He asked and you almost wanted to laugh mockingly.

Instead, you did what you initially wanted to do. Your eyes flicked to his hand, then back to his face. “Let me go.”

He hesitated for a moment, tounge poking his cheek, grip on your hand loosening but not releasing entirely. "What's wrong, y/n?"

“I said, let me go,” you repeated, your voice firm, frangible at the edges before you pulled your hand away from him and pushed past to walk away without another word.

The next random hallway you stumbled into was quieter, emptier, and for that, you were grateful, stretched ahead like an endless corridor of polished wood and muted gold accents. The noise of the party faded into the background, muffled by the thick walls and heavy doors.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to roam around mindlessly any further. This should be good enough, you told yourself and leaned against one of the walls, your forehead pressing against the cool surface as you tried to breathe through the wave of vehemence emotions that crashed through you.

One: Inhale.

Two: Exhale.

Three: Forget the words they said. Forget them.

But they echoed, persistent and savage, circling in your mind like vultures.

Poor thing, all alone now. Must be awful.

You’d think she’d be a bit more modest. That dress isn’t exactly widow-appropriate, is it?

Your chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, your hands clutching at your dress as if the fabric could somehow hold you together. But nothing could, nothing had. You had tried and tried and tried.. and fuck you didn't wanted to do it anymore.

Turning around, your head tipped back against the wall, the ceiling swimming in and out of focus as your vision blurred.

You shouldn’t have come here.

You should have stayed home, buried yourself in the comfort of your quiet apartment where no one whispered behind your back or looked at you with pity thinly disguised as deference.

Why did they care? Why did it matter to them how you dressed, how you existed, how you grieved?

It shouldn’t have mattered.

But it did.

You pressed the heels of your palms against your eyes, trying to will the tears away. Crying wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t change anything.

Your hands gripped your clutch tightly, the edges digging into your palms, and for a moment, you considered throwing it—hurling it across the hall just to feel something break.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Because even here, in this quiet, empty hallway, you felt the silent expectation that you hold yourself together, that you keep smiling, keep nodding, keep existing in a way that made other people comfortable.

You hated this. You hated being you. You hated being the one who was left behind. And God you hated being alone. No Minho to make a quiet joke about the ridiculousness of it all and pull you toward something fun and irreverent.

Just you.

It will be always be just you. You've never admitted that to yourself but now that you did, you feel such panic rise in your chest that you don't hear him at first. Not until his voice broke through the haze.

“Y/N.”

It was soft, tentative, but it still cut through the silence like a blade.

You flinched, your head snapping toward the source of the voice. Jungkook stood a few feet away, his dark eyes searching yours, his expression shadowed with concern.

He had followed you.

“I told you to leave me alone,” you managed, your voice trembling as you turned away, willing him to disappear.

“I’m not leaving,” he said, his footsteps growing louder as he moved closer with a cautiousness that made you feel like a wounded animal. “Talk to me.” He added, the pleading in his voice almost running free.

"I mean it, Jungkook.. go away." You tried putting distance between the both of you again but far too quick for your slowed senses, he was now standing right in front of you, hands hovering in the air as if he didn't know what to do with him while also knowing.

"And I told you, I'm not leaving." His tone had coarsened and your dam had broke.

“Why now?” you cried, stepping closer to him, your fists balling at your sides. “Why do you want to stay now? You’ve spent years acting like a stranger, Jungkook. Years acting like I didn’t exist. And now—”

You shoved at his chest, your fists pounding weakly against him, but he didn’t move.

“Now you want to act like you care?” you yelled, your voice cracking as you hit him again. “Now you want to be here? Why?”

Jungkook stood still, his arms at his sides, his chest solid and unyielding beneath your fists. He didn’t flinch, didn’t step back, didn’t even try to stop you. He just let you hit him, let you pour out everything.His silence infuriated you, and yet it steadied you in a way you couldn’t explain.

"Why do you care now?" you repeated, your voice cracking, trembling like your hands as they hit his chest incessantly. Each word felt like it scraped raw against your throat. "Where were you, Jungkook? When everything fell apart, when I—when I needed someone. Where were you?"

“I don’t need you now!” you snapped, your tears falling freely now. “I don’t need you to come here and act like you care, like you’ve always cared, because we both know that’s not true."

“Because you left!" your voice cracked, the words laced with betrayal. The hurt from the breach of faith weakening you and your punches on his chest until they finally stilled, your hands trembling still as they curled into the fabric of his shirt. Jungkook caught your wrists, his hold firm but gentle, and for a moment, you fought him, your breaths coming in sharp and ragged. But when he didn’t let go, when he didn’t flinch or step back, the fight drained out of you.

Your knees buckled, and his arms came around you slowly, hesitantly, as if he were afraid you might push him away. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. You were too tired now. Empty hands that had been holding onto something for as long as you could remember were too tired, have forgotten the feeling of what it felt like to be held instead.

You allowed to let yourself feel that. You allowed yourself to feel someone else other than the woman you couldn’t even recognize in a mirror as you sagged against him, your head pressing against his shoulder as your tears soaked into his shirt, body shaking and shivering from the quiet sobs that you let out.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, angel." You heard him say those words like a mantra against your hair, arms tightening around you, nestling you close against his chest.

For a moment, you heard pain there, raw and unfiltered, pain that felt similiar to your own in ways you hadn’t expected. You clutched his shirt tighter. You didn't wanted to be alone and Jungkook felt and smelled of times when you weren't. Earthy and Warm. Like that one time when he pulled you in to him after the death of milo- your first dog, and didn’t even mind your snort.

You had clung to those memories but it felt better clinging to him. A small, desperate part of you wanting to drag him closer, to cling to what little you had left of the past. The rest of you wanted to push him away, to keep screaming at him for daring to come back after all this time, after all this distance.

The sobs subsided slowly, leaving behind the kind of stillness that felt fragile, as if it might shatter with the wrong word or movement. Jungkook didn’t push you away, didn’t loosen his hold. If anything, he pulled you closer, as though he feared you’d slip through his fingers if he let go.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your gaze searching his face. His eyes shadowed, a stupid perfect strand of his stupid perfect hair falling on his forehead with tension prominent in his jaw and you wondered if there was a time there wasn't.

You wondered if it would make you any more vulnerable that you are right now if you say the words that sit on the top of your tounge, sting in the tears that linger in the corner of your eyes.

“I missed you,” you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. They felt dangerous, like exposing a wound that had barely begun to scab over.

His eyes darkened, a low sound rumbling in his chest—something between a growl and a sigh. “Fuck,” he muttered, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I missed you too, angel."

The rawness in his tone made your chest clench, a part of you craving more, while another part shrieked at you to stop this before it went any further, gather whatever semblance has left of you and walk away, play his cards against him.

But you have never been too good with cards or walking away.

“Then why did you leave?” you croaked. “Why did you stay away for so long?”

His gaze dropped to the space between you before meeting your eyes again, his own breathing now getting uneven. You could feel it beneath you. Rising. And Rising. And Rising.

"I didn’t knew how to look at you and not feel like I'm.. betraying him." His voice trembles as he drews in breath and you're so close you feel the heat of it brush against your temple. "And I can not, not look at you. That became a problem."

Your body stiffened at the confession, the world around you shrinking until it was just the two of you, his voice echoing in your ears.

Your first instinct was disbelief.

This can't mean what you think it does.

This can’t mean what you think it does!

The words replayed in your mind, over and over, refusing to settle. Each repetition twisted something deeper, something buried in the hollow space that had once been you.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, needing space, needing air.

He didn’t move. His gaze followed you, his expression resolute, like he was determined to lay everything bare now that the first truth had slipped out.

But you didn’t even wanted to acknowledge it as something, let alone, a truth. “That’s not—” Your voice cracked, and you forced yourself to start again. "Are you drunk, Jungkook?" You found the thought so repulsing, you could only think of ways to brush this up, put all the blame on the champagne.

From the way his eyes narrowed and brow ridged, you could tell that it was not the champagne.

“Y/N.” he says with a warning. “I’m not fucking drunk.”

“Well, you sound like you are,” you shot back, your tone sharper than you intended. “Because that—what you just said—sounds like something someone says when they’re not thinking clearly. You're not making any sense, Jungkook!"

“It makes sense,” he was starting to get frustated now. “It’s the only thing that’s ever made sense to me.”

And you were starting to get scared. You needed him to stop talking. Anything and everything he said made you physically want to recoil. You took another step back, your arms wrapping around yourself as if you could shield yourself from the weight of unsaid words that are no longer so.

“Don’t,” you said, your voice breaking, hands tempted to cover your ears like a child. His confession felt like a pin pulled from a grenade, and now the blast was unfurling within you. “Don’t do this. It's not fair. It's-It's not fair to him. Or me. Or you."

I know. He admits quietly to himself because he doesn't think anyone knows better than the man who was holding the jagged ends of a once delicate thread. And he hates himself for it because hating you was as unrealistic as the existence of a greater being to him. He had tried. Tried turning to salvation. Tried to despise you for being the one thing that has turned him the best and worst person he can be but he just can't. He prefers hating himself better.

He wants this punishment, that is you. He wants to whisper I'm sorry- I'm sorry for leaving- I'm sorry for coming back in every crook and nook of your body for the rest of his life so you'd feel his expression of regret that could only be a product of love so consuming embedding into you.

Because it's truth. It's his truth, has been for years and years, before he even knew what are the consequences of being a honest person. Now that he is seeing you in front of him—you with a revolting look, a stray tear rolling down your eyes that is nowhere near as angry as it had been before, he understands that it's not a consequence he can take.

He dares to step forward again and even if takes a whole lot of power in him not to pull you into him again, he doesn't and only raises a hand and catches the tear with his thumb.

“You don’t get to do this to me.” you repeat, your voice low and trembling.

And so does his. "I know."

Jungkook didn’t know what he expected you to say, what he hoped for. Forgiveness? Understanding? He wasn’t sure he deserved either.

Yet when you don't pull away, look back at him with the same daring he had stepped forward with, a silence understanding passes between the space that is separating you from him. And he's done being separated from you.

He tilted his head down, his breath stirring your hair when he inhaled deeply, his nose tracing a path down until it rubbed against yours—softly, deliberately—as if giving you time to move away. You didn't and his eyes fell on your inviting mouth again.

Fuck it.

Jungkook surged forward, his hands cupping your face, tipping your face up to him as his lips crashed against yours. The way he kissed you was nothing like the way he had touched you. It was rough, desperate with the way tounge and teeth clashed, filled with years of pent up desire and regret and emotions too tangled to name.

He kissed you like the nights he’d spent staring at the ceiling in places too far from home, wondering if you’d be happier without him there to complicate things, wondering if things had been any different if he said something before. Will you have looked at him like the way you looked at his brother? Would that choice have saved you from years and years of tragedy? Would that have saved him from the weight of his guilt, his love—love that had been a silent, unwelcome presence in his life for so long that it felt like another organ, vital and inescapable?

When he felt you grip him again and kiss him back. Nothing else mattered. The world stopped spinning and he didn't wanted to run anymore.

His hands found your waist, gripping tightly. A low groan slipping from his mouth to yours at the feeling of how you melted against him when he deepened the kiss, tounge proding and exploring all that your sweet mouth had to offer. Gods, he was drunk now.

"Shit." He shuddered as the taste of you finally started to settle in, pulling you closer and closer, then pushing you back until your back met the wall of the hallway.

You should be scared, anxious and pushing him back. The mere thought of someone walking in on you kissing him, your supposed family. Should make you want to end this because you could only imagine the stake they'd pin you on. They'd be not wrong to.

This is traitorous—what you're doing, what you're allowing yourself. But so is a shameful part of you that had always reached for him. Something that whispered to you, so soft it felt like it came from inside your own chest.

It's not so bad. His lips feel good.

But oh, it is. It makes you sick from just thinking how bad it is. Anger, confusion, guilt—oh, the guilt—swirl together and make you so sick.

"W-We shouldn’t.." You gasp against him as your unpracticed lips suck on his in a contradiction.

"No, we shouldn't." He kisses you harder, his mouth only leaving yours to trail a train of kisses along the column of your accessible throat to him, making you whimper out loud that he takes as an sign to nibble and bite.

Your hands find their way to his shoulder and his to your hips. "Legs around me." He licks the length of your neck, narrowing your world down to the feeling of his provoking wet tounge on your skin, his calloused fingers squeezing your hips. It felt all too real now. And despite you being balant enough to start this in the first place, you're not sure if you're still feeling bold. What you are feeling is this sinful, unexplainable craving seeping into your bones, curling around your ribs, making it hard to breath and think. Or maybe it's him.

Whatever it is, you get yourself to pause his eager hands and hungry mouth and speak, your breath coming in short, hot puffs. "Jungkook.. I don't think-" He straightens up and the vulnerability in his voice and eyes is gone as he squeezes your hips tighter.

"Finally gave me that perfect mouth of yours and now you want to walk away? Do you like tormenting me, angel? Do you like knowing that I'd fuck my fist to only the thought of you when you do?" He growls against your ear and you feel yourself flush so hard you're sure he even feels the heat coming off you in ripples.

"Please, baby." He pleads unapologetically, fingers tugging you closer even when all of you is pressed against all of him. "I want you." So bad it hurts.

Gone is the man who had once been so armored, seemed so unreachable and untouchable. And left is Jeon Jungkook, who looks like he will crumble to the ground if you pull away now.

You wouldn't want that. But the words came anyway, right from where shame twisted in your stomach, tangling with the guilt that clawed at your throat. "Do you still want me even if I'm nothing like the woman I used to be?" It came out breakable and in segments, and the second they left your lips, you weren’t sure what to except as a answer.

For a moment, all you could hear was the ragged rhythm of your combined breathing.

You swallowed hard, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. The intensity in his dark eyes was almost unbearable, raw and unrelenting as they searched yours.

"Don't ever say that again." he bit out, every syllable heavy. "I want you always. I want you with my every breath. There's always been only you for me, understand?" He added with a brief grind of his hardened arousal against your front, making you mewl.

The words, though, hit you like a physical forcek, breaking through the walls you’d built around yourself, the ones you’d convinced yourself were impenetrable.

Before you could respond, he moved.

His mouth fell onto yours again and with practiced ease, his hands slid to the backs of your thighs, lifting you like you weighed nothing. "Now. Legs around me, baby." he murmured in the kiss, and though your mind was a whirlwind of what seemed like every single thought you've ever had, your body obeyed.

You could barely figure out to where he was taking you, too engrossed in the kiss that you steered towards a softer, mellow one, fingers tangling in the hair that has grown a little bit on the nape of his neck. Feeling like you both were two audacious college students trying to find a space in a messy party where you both won't be interrupted.

When he halted in his steps, you assumed that he found it as he kicked it open with a firm nudge of his boot, the room beyond dim and quiet but he barely give you time to register anything else, his movements urgent and frantic as he carried you over to the bed in the middle after swiftly locking you both away. You bounced on the silk mattress as he set you down, though his intentions were grave, his actions or the way he held you was gentle, tounge swiping over his glistening lips like chasing the taste of you that made you want to give him once more.

Audacious, you were.

Your eyes on his face, shadows played along the planes, softening the hard edges of his jaw, but his gaze burned. Dark and piercing, it held you in place as if daring you to look away.

You didn’t.

Your eyes followed the sluggish movements of his hands as he reached up, his fingers deftly working the knot of his tie. The fabric slid free, whispering against the buttons of his dress shirt before he cast it aside, forgotten on the nearby chair.

Next came his jacket. He shrugged it off with practiced ease, the broad span of his shoulders rolling beneath the fabric. Your breath hitched as he discarded it, leaving him in the crisp white shirt that clung to his frame, the outline of him barely hidden.

And then his hands moved again, this time to his wrist.

You watched, mesmerized, as he undid the strap of his watch, the silver buckle catching the faint light. He pulled it free and set it down on the nightstand, the movement so fluid it felt almost rehearsed.

It wasn’t until he turned his wrist slightly that you noticed it—the worn thread of a bracelet wrapped around his wrist, faded from time and use but unmistakable.

The one you’d tied around his wrist when you were kids in an action of promise to stay friends for years to come.

But he still wore it.

He still wore it.

Your fingers twitched against the bedspread, the urge to reach out and touch him almost overwhelming.

And as if understanding your anticipation, he soon followed you down, your breath catching as he hovered above you. You waited for him to kiss you again because god help you, you liked a little too much but he only pressed a chaste one, smirking subtly at the pout that subconsciously formed on your lips that soon parted in a gasp when he started to suck on your neck again, this time with the intention to claim the spot with the scrape of his teeth.

He hummed against your skin, the sound deep and satisfied, before he drew your flesh into his mouth again, harder this time. The sharp pull sent a jolt of pleasure-pain coursing through you, thighs clenching together.

"My angel." he said softly, yet nothing was soft about the way he pulled down on the straps of your dress. The fabric slipped, baring the smooth skin of your shoulder, and he pressed his lips there, warm and firm, before trailing lower, his mouth following the path he’d just uncovered. "My undoing."

The red fabric gathered at your arms as he pushed it further, exposing the tops of your collarbones and the swell of your chest. His gaze flicked up to meet yours then, dark and questioning, seeking permission even though his hands were steady, his intention clear.

You nodded, perhaps with too much enthusiasm and earned a chuckle from him that you were sure was the reason for the wetness pooling between your legs.

You had missed that sound. You had missed him.

And he was hell bent on making up for lost time as he dived face first into your chest, humming again when he took in your pebbled nipple in his mouth, swirling his tounge around the roundness of you.

"Oh shit." Your back arched, hands finding their way to his hair again. Pulling and tugging. Urging him on until his hand was fondling the other, abandoned tit. Squeezing under his rough palms that made the heat lowering your stomach worse—all of it felt too much, too soon. And yet, it wasn’t enough.

It had been so long.

Too long since someone had touched you like this, with a reverence that made you feel seen, whole, wanted.

You told yourself it was natural, that anyone in your position would respond this way. That it wasn’t about him—it couldn’t be. But your body betrayed you before your mind could even catch up. Your legs wrapped around his waist once more as you ground yourself against him. Against the print of his bulging length you could feel pulsing against you.

"Fuck yeah.." You cursed low, head falling back on the pillows and Jungkook looked up, his own cock twitching at the sight of you, at the feel of you. Of everything he has ever wanted. Of everything he thought he would never have. But here you were straight from his flithest wet dream that would have him taking more cold showers that he could keep count of.

A goddamn miracle for him, this wasn't a dream.

"This here needs some attention too, hmm?" He rasped, hands slipping down from the curve of your waist, to bunch up your dress to your hips. Wasting no time in finding the wet mess you made of your panties. "Look at this." He grunted, hand cupping your clothed mound. "So wet."

You exhaled out like you'd been freed from shackles that felt too heavy and a whimper followed right after when he disposed you of them, exposing your deprived cunt to the cold air that had you clenching around nothing. "And so fucking responsive." He breathed against your bare sex after moving his head down.

You hadn’t expected that. You breath was bated, cheeks were flushed and heart was pounding at the view alone of his face between your thighs.

Then again, he was all about surprising you today.

Though, it didn't make it any less overwhelming.

The way his hands gripped your thighs, firm yet careful, as if he were both anchoring you and holding himself back. His fingers dug into your skin just enough to leave the faintest imprint, a reminder of where he had been, where he was. Your legs draped over his shoulders, trembling with a mix of anticipation and disbelief, as though your body was still catching up to the reality of this moment.

Never in your wildest dreams, it would have come to this. Come to Jungkook licking a greedy strip up from your folds.

"Jungkook—oh God!" You gasped and he groaned, feeling all of his restraint and the plan to savor this, to savor you, slip away from his tightening hands. One taste of you and he wanted to grasp every drop of like it would be his last.

And so he did.

Burying his face in your wanting pussy like a man with purpose, he lapped. His mouth wrapped around your clit, tounge swiping and licking with a reverence because you were something sacred, something he had put on a pedestal so high, others in his life barely mattered.

"Oh- mhm. Feels so good!" You moan out, mind in a haze of pure fog and he takes it as his cue to plunge his digit inside your dripping core. You're sure you've got no mind now. Grunts of his own leaving him at the thought of your heat wrapping around his aching cock instead.

He felt no shame in that. No shame in what he was doing right now. Because then you moved, your body arching toward him as if to erase every doubt. Your fingers found their way to his hair, tugging as selfishly as he fed on you, flatenning his tounge on your slit to take all he can get, to give you all he can.

A shaky exhale brushing against your folds. The sound was low, guttural, and filled with more longing than he knew how to contain. "Does it, baby? Sweet pussy's feeling good?" His fingers—knuckles deep now—worked you faster, curling and testing ways to get you closer to the edge.

This was more desire that he knew he was possible of as his hips started to rut on their own, seeking friction in a way that was both instinctual and helpless. Brain flat lining. Face drowned in the essence of you. Desperate, as you pulled on his hair. Pathetic, as he chased his own high from just the taste of you, from just how you enveloped his curving fingers. Ecastic, when you finally reached your breaking point from how he alternated between broad strokes and targeted flicks, making you come all over his mouth that kindles his face, that he swallow all because he refuses to let anything go to waste.

"Ah fuck—Oh lord!" You fingers tear in his scalp and hips bucked against his face, eyes rolling back until they whitened.

Oh.

Oh.

It was in this moment, with your thighs braced against his shoulders and his name spilling from her lips, that Jungkook knew.

He would never be the same again.

That he too would be coming in his pants like a high school boy.

It wasn’t enough—nothing would ever be enough—but it was all he had, and it drove him to the edge faster than he would’ve liked to admit. The tension inside him snapped before he could stop it, his body tensing and toes curling because he found everything else secondary to the sheer joy of watching you fall apart beneath him.

"Oh shit, y/n. Shit. Shit. Shit." He whimpers against your cunt, his hips finally slowing down their mindless movement. His forehead pressed against your thigh as he caught his breath. His chest heaved, his heartbeat thundered in his ears, and his entire body felt like it was vibrating, the aftershocks of his release making his muscles twitch.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry, and shifted slightly, pressing a kiss to your clit before leaning back up to feel another wave of release threatening to overcome him when he sees your content expression, hands loosening their grip in his raven hair, half lidded eyes meeting his own before they trail down. "Y-You.." You didn’t know what to say, couldn’t have spoken even if you tried.

A lazy smirk made it's way to his lips that caught the light before he licked whatever remnant what was left of you on his fingers.

"I'm a starved man, angel. Cut me some slack." He panted, pinching your bud in emphasis and moved back up before you could even process it, the warmth of his breath retreating, replaced by the cooler air of the room as he straightened. The absence of his lips against you left you gasping, your chest heaving, your pulse thundering in your ears or maybe it was you still riding your orgasm or maybe it was the knowledge that he came in his pants from just eating you out.

Then he was there again, his hands sliding from your thighs to the mattress on either side of you, bracketing you in like a secret he refused to let escape.

"Hi." He breathed against your forehead.

You felt a shy smile twitch on your lips. "Hi." You reply just as breathlessly.

He presses another kiss, this time to the tip of your nose. "I'm gonna fuck you now, yeah?" You couldn’t reconcile it.

How could he say things that made your cheeks flush, your body respond in ways you couldn’t control, while his lips brushed against your temple with a tenderness that felt like an apology?

How could he make you feel like you were unraveling and being held together all at once?

You wanted to know. "Mhm. Please." You mewl, hands softly going through the beautiful mess that you made of his hair.

"Please, what?" He demanded, lips on your cheek.

"Please fuck me." You whine and he bumped his nose against your face, chest rumbling from a sound so feverish that you can't help but grind against him again. Coaxing his cock back into hardness with your bare cunt against him, from the realization that you shared the insatiable urges with him.

It got his hand trembling when they reached down to unbind his belt, pushing the fabric down his hips to reveal predicament he's made of his boxers that were bounding his hard, leaking cock but hell if he had it in himself to care.

He had been bidding his time for far too long. Waited enough—longer than any man should have to wait for something that felt this inevitable, this right, this his.

Ridding himself of the last piece of clothing on him, other than the white dress shirt that flexed against his coiled muscles, he took himself In a fist, groaning when he pumped himself in one slow stroke. Eyes never leaving your wide ones like you weren’t sure if you should be impressed, intimidated, or both.

Your breath hitched audibly, and your chest rose and fell as your eyes darted from his face to the undeniable evidence of his arousal. Heat bloomed across your cheeks, but you couldn’t seem to tear your gaze away, couldn’t stop the thought that immediately took hold.

"You're too big." Your throat dry, and your fingers fisted the sheet beneath you, trying not too think too much about how thick he would feel down your throat. The sounds he'd make when you would lick him just right.

"And you're gonna take every inch." He said it like a statement, a prominent vein popping in his neck when he finally let go of the locked gaze and focused instead on compressing the tip of his angry, veiny cock to your slick folds.

"Won't you, angel?" He asks with a confident smirk passed your way for a second before his breath wavered again, brows scrunched together and if it wasn't for his tip nudging inside you, you'd thought him endearing.

But once his tip is actually is in, you're left with no thought. Rendered speechless, eyes falling shut when he starts to jab inch by inch.

"Dear lord—" You gasp out loud. The sheet beneath you not providing much semblance so you switch to his shoulders. And you swear, he feel him shake when he is finally all in. Closes his eyes and relishes in your heat stretching around. "Fucking hell." The sensation was overwhelming—heat and softness so consuming it felt like his mind short-circuited, every thought dissolving into static.

But you feel that its your pussy that feels like it's going to split apart any moment now that's stopping him from moving. And partly it is. "You're so..tight." He hisses out and squeezes your hips with great roughness.

"Been long since you've been fucked, eh?" He muses, dark hungry eyes devouring yours when he makes an attempt to move inside you like he was testing your limits. Your mind reels, caught between the sharpness of the initial sensation and the overwhelming desire that followed.

He felt impossibly big, like your body wasn’t prepared for the sheer intensity of him, and for a fleeting moment, doubt crept into your thoughts.

It’s been so long.

The thought came unbidden. Your body had grown used to quiet nights and cold sheets, to the impersonal hum of a vibrator and the absence of warmth.

"Been so long." You confirm, nails clawing at his shoulders, mimicking the roughness that only spurs him on. His lashes fluttered shut, his forehead drops to your shoulder and with a whine of disagreement from you, he pulls back fully just to (to your satisfaction) bury himself back to the hilt.

An unadulterated moan from you broke the silence, a sound so sweet it made him want to come right there and then again. But he'd much rather have you convulse first. Priorities.

His jaw clenched, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he started to move his hips against yours, slow and deliberate, like he needed to feel every inch of your.

Your legs tensed around his hips, pulling him closer. You couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the way your body reacted to him, your mind a dizzy blur of heat and need and overwhelming sensation.

He pulled back again, the drag of him leaving you feeling empty, only to return with the same slow, measured thrust.

“That’s right,” he muttered, his voice rough and uneven, barely coherent through the sounds your free spilling moans and the fact that his face was buried in the crook of your shoulder. “You’re—fuck, you’re perfect.” His voice unrefined at the edges, raw with honesty and disbelief, like he couldn’t believe you were really here, with him, like this.

Your hands slid down his back, clinging to the flexing muscles beneath your palms. You suddenly didn't like that his shirt was still on. Wanting to map out his bare skin with every graze of your nails. But with each thrust, pleasure sparked at the base of your spine and spread outward, your thoughts scattered like autumn leaves.

"Yeah- Oh mphm! Just like that!" He flourished in your cries of encouragement, his grip on your hips tightening, his fingers digging into your skin as he was afraid he'd lose control too soon.

And you wanted nothing more. "F-Faster! Please go faster!" His pace was unhurried but devastating, every pull and thrust deliberate, designed to drag you to the edge and keep you there, teetering. You couldn’t take that anymore.

And Jungkook couldn’t take keeping you unsatisfied. His lips found the corner of your mouth, brushing against it in a fleeting kiss before moving lower, his teeth grazing your jaw. His hands moved to your thighs, urging them higher, wrapping them around his waist as he drove into you with more force, more intent.

“taking me so well, was made for this cock.” Were made for me. he praised, his voice sounding like a backdrop to the obscene sounds his hips snapping against yours as your own body moved with his, meeting him with the same intensity, the same desperate need. "Yeah." He grunted, punctuating his words with a squeeze to your boob. "Fuck me back. Use me. Feel me."

All you could possibly do was feel him.

He felt like fire and electricity all at once, a heat that spread from your core to the very tips of your fingers and toes.

“Jungkook…” you whispered again, your voice catching on the syllables when his head tipped forward, his forehead pressing against yours, his damp hair brushing your skin.

He whimpered in response, a deep, guttural sound that reverberated through you, and he pistoned his cock harder, pulling a cry from your lips that you couldn’t hold back.

"I-I missed you." You can feel tears gather in your eyes again. You don't even know why. Why you're repeating what you've already admitted. Why the words feel more vulnerable now. All you know that you missed him and the coil is tightening in your stomach.

Jungkook, too feels like he will break down any moment when he stares down at you. But he’s got a impending orgasm to deliver.

He kisses your eyelids, is tempted to lick the tears that slowly make their way down to your chin but doesn't. He's not sure he'll be able to handle the taste of your despair without feeling like he has to chastise himself for ever being the reason for it.

"I know. I know." His cock thrusts with renewed vigor. "I missed you too. I missed you." He says through his gritted teeth, feeling how your walls fluttered around him.

"Gonna cum now?" He knows what your answer will be. There's a smug underline tone in his rasps that gives him away. How he takes pride in knowing that he's the one to make you release all this tension; once on his mouth; then on his cock that is pulsing with an reoccurring ache.

You can only manage to nod, lips tightly tucked between your teeth, hands scratching and marking on his once crisp shirt that is now crumpled from the fate of your hands.

"Gonna soak my cock, huh? Go ahead, baby. Go ahead and come with me." He demands, his hand slipping between you to rub tight circles against your puffy clit that is just enough to tip you over at last.

"Koo.. ah..oh god!" The name you've always called him with a fondness falls unintentionally from your lips when your walls tighten for the last time and you release all over his cock that is now stuttering with it's every thrust.

"Oh fuck. Call me that again." He all but snarls. Cock turns firmer inside your heat that hugs him. And balls screw up.

"Koo.." You whine and that's all he needs before thick ropes of white hot cum is spilling inside you, filling you to the brim. "Mhm, take it all. There's my girl. Pussy looks so good stuffed with my cum." He grinds the best his spent body can into yours that still welcomes him and fuck if that doesn't make him never want to leave.

And he doesn't, for a moment, when he collapses onto you. Just not enough to crush you under his weight. Just enough to latch his lips where ever he can find and whisper words of affection. "Could'nt fucking breathe without you." He's yet to get enough of you. This life won't suffice, he thinks. Then finally pulls out his softening cock from your slick hole with a hiss.

You too feel the loss the of the connection that had pulsed faintly between you, leaving you achingly empty.

He moved with the same carefulness, reaching for the tissues on the bedside table. The room was quiet save for your mingled breaths as he knelt beside you, his touch impossibly tender as he wiped at the inside of your thighs. You shivered under the cool press of the tissue against your skin, the sensation making you acutely aware of the aftermath—the way your body still quivered, the way your breaths still came uneven.

You stared at the ceiling while he did so, the edges of your perception blurred as you tried to silence the tingles that still hummed across the length of your legs. A reminder of how throughly he had disentangle you, how throughly his very essence had penetrated into you.

You were ruined by him.

There was no going back from this. You knew that.

What scared you was the realization that you didn’t want to.

You just didn't know how to admit that out loud where everyone and he could hear you.

Your eyes seeked out for him as if that alone could answer all your questions. He returned back against you without a question. Hands finely adjusted the strap of your dress and drew you closer to him with a soft voice, hoarse from the strain of everything he’d given you. "Come here, angel." Bundled you up in his arms and then only did he breathe out.

Your breath stayed differing. “Why do you call me that?” Your voice was curious but tentative. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked you.”

You felt his lips curve up against your temple. "You were wearing this really pretty white dress the first time I met you." he began, his voice quiet, almost wistful. “Had these frills on the sleeves. I thought you looked like an angel."

You tried to piece together the memory. “That was so long ago."

It might be understood that it takes months to fall in love but Jungkook had been falling all his life.

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Love Game II

DI!Single!Dad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You, Leon, in his bedroom. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it children), p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms (f receiving), hair pulling, minor choking, creampie, praising, soft!dom!leon, Leon has kinda of an innocence kink, parent/teacher dynamic, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, foul language

WC: 4.4k

A/N: yay I made it past the 2 part mark for a "series" how exciting. I hope I can post this in peace. For anyone that cared enough to want more parts, here we are. There's some more in the works. What do we say? Do we want to see this second date and leon being dumb and in love? Dunno when those will come out but, for now here's this.

Part I | Universe Masterlist

Were you really driving halfway across town to get laid?

Absolutely. 

Leon didn't even have to ask you twice. It wasn't like you had much going on anyway. And you really wanted to see him.

You made it three, maybe four feet into his apartment, enough for you to take a look at him. Hair wet like he had just taken a shower, shirtless, and only a pair of pajama pants hung from his hips. That man was without a doubt, trying to drive you insane. Though you had concluded you were in fact insane, the second you said yes to going out with him. 

"Hi." You stood in front of him, the scent of his body wash taking you in. A mixture of light bourbon and vanilla. It wasn't overbearing, but it was definitely intoxicating. That, or you were already drunk on the thought of him.

"Hi." His lips irked up and he leaned down, lips barely brushing over yours as he threaded his fingers through your hair. "I really wanted to see you again." 

You were in his bedroom in record time. Somehow in between hushed laughs and messy kisses, always doing your best to stay quiet. But ultimately, he closed the door behind you, his body pressing you against it as he kissed you.

His lips were hard on your own, messy on your jaw, like he didn't know which part he wanted to kiss more. Your fingers were entangled in his perfectly soft honey brown strands, already melting under his touch. His hand came up under your jaw to grip your face in place, long fingers sprawled out over your neck. He pulled you back by your face and his eyes were hard on you, with this mixture of authority and utter need to fuck you. He could be both. 

"This is how this is gonna be. I'm going to throw you on that bed and fuck you the way you deserve. But I better not hear a single fucking sound leave those pretty lips of yours. Not tonight. Got it?" 

Your jaw hung agape, a sharp shudder leaving your lips at his words laced with confidence and dominance. Christ, the things this man made you feel. You felt like you would have slipped right onto the floor had he not been pressing you against the door with his body. It took a long hard look from the ocean of blue that were his eyes for you to even speak. 

"I.. Yeah. I'll be quiet. I just.." You swallowed, lip quivering with anticipation, your hands landing flat against his chest, attempting to grip at something other the hairs across his chest. "I need you, please."

Leon watched you ever so amused, flashes of lust and need overcoming his otherwise stoic eyes. And his lips irked up with malice. 

"You sweet girl," He gripped your chin between two fingers, tilting your head ever so slightly to look over your pretty face. The need to see this face covered in tears as you begged him to come overcame his rational mind. All he could think about was ruining you. "How is it possible for such a pretty and innocent looking thing to ever be so needy?" 

"You. You do this to me. I've never—" You wetted your dry lips, a wave of heat flashing between your thighs as your voice died in your throat. 

I've never wanted to be ruined by someone. 

I've never wanted to be fucked into nothing. 

Until I met you. 

The words never left your lips, though. All you could do was look at him with those pleading eyes of yours, hoping he would understand. 

And fuck, did he understand. 

His mouth was on yours without another word being spoken. You were more than eager to let him take over. His hands guided you carefully through his bedroom as his lips did with yours as he pleased. He sucked, pulled, and bit all he wanted. And the sounds that would sit in your throat every time he did so only made him all the more eager to have you on his bed. 

Your feet were no longer on the floor, and your back hit something soft and warm. With a soft gasp you landed on your back and his body encased you under him. His lips once again found your neck, making work of your skin as his hands fell down your body. He forced your hips off the mattress long enough to push your sweatpants and panties down your hips. You kicked them down the rest of the way with a shiver, watching through half lidded eyes as he lifted his body up enough to settle beside you. Your eyes followed him with confusion, for a moment forgetting about the cold air now settling between your thighs. 

"You, Miss, are going to keep your legs wide open for me, okay?" A large hand fell on your thigh, fingers digging into the tender skin for a second before he pulled your legs as far apart as they went. You gasped, unconsciously flinching at the cold air. Leon slightly narrowed his eyes at you. "I remember you like to squirm, and close your legs. But these better stay open, or I will fingerfuck you until you cry. Understood?" 

Your lips parted, but you simply nodded, not saying any words out loud. 

"Use your words baby, I know you can." 

You breathed out a shudder, "Yes, I.. I understand." 

Leon flashed you a pleased smile as he positioned himself on his side, his chest pressed against your shoulder and he used his legs to trap one of yours, making sure they stayed open. He didn't trust your self-control very much right now. 

"That's a good girl." He leaned down, his lips pulling your own into a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was heated and it was fucking messy. But it was enough to distract you from where his hand was about to go. 

His lips parted from yours just enough to leave room for him to spit into his fingers, before his lips were back on yours. Your mouth didn't stay open long though, for the second his fingers grazed your already sensitive clit, you gasped. His lips curved up, his nose brushing against yours as he rubbed slow circles around the nub. It was slow, agonizing, but fuck, it felt so good. 

"Oh my—" the words fell from your lips in a quiet whimper, your head falling to the side into Leon's chest as you attempted to quiet yourself, but the longer his fingers worked you the stronger the ache in your stomach became. "Fuck, Leon." 

"I know, sweetheart. You're so wet for me. Is this what you wanted me to do to you earlier? Finger you wide open in your bathtub?" He spoke into your ear, his voice was raspy and so full of arousal with each word he said. 

You tried to respond, but when you felt two long fingers slip into your wet cunt all you could do was scream. You weren't sure just how muffled the sound was but Leon didn't say anything about it. He definitely heard you, but that only made him want to work his fingers harder. He loved the sound of it, too, the lewd sound of his palm slapping against your wet cunt each time he snapped his wrist. It was his favorite sound— after your moans, of course. 

"Shit. Shit. Leon— a-ah—" Your voice was broken as you weakly grinded against his palm, but his fingers were buried so deep already all you could was desperately chase with your hips. Leon only found this all the more arousing. 

"Mhmm, yeah, just like that. Fuck yourself on my hand just like that. You look so goddamn pretty." He spat, watching as he curled his fingers against that one spot that made your squirm. The sight of you, pathetically grinding against his hand as you weakly attempted to stay quiet shot straight to his cock. 

He needed to fuck you so goddamn bad. But he needed to focus. He could be selfish after. 

"Shit, baby, look at yourself. I don't think I've ever seen a more perfect sight." He made you watch, his free hand fisted around the roots of your hair and he held your head in place to watch as he slid his fingers in and out of your soaked cunt. His hand as well as your thighs were glistening with your slick.

The sight was absolutely filthy, the sound more so. But fuck that only made you want to come even more. You couldn't help it. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your mouth fell open in a silent cry, the wind-up in your belly getting tighter and tighter. 

"Please. Please Leon. I'm gonna come. I think I'm gonna come." The words came out in parts, high-pitched and in between pants. 

Leon bit his lip, feeling the tightness of your walls around his fingers and he hummed, letting go of your hair to clasp a large hand over your mouth. He was shifting his weight more on his side, and he slammed his fingers so hard and so deep his palm rutted against your clit. He was a smart man. The cry you would have let out then would have woken up anyone in that apartment, or next to it. 

"Let go for me, pretty, I got you." His fingers left your hole to rub harsh circles on your clit, his fingers so wet he didn't even have to spit on them again. 

Though, he did surprise himself with how fast he had started to learn your body, because the second that wave of blinding heat hit you, you were squirming on that mattress like you wanted to run away. He, admittedly selfishly so, slightly ground his own hips against your leg as he fingered you through your orgasm. He could only handle so much with the sounds you had been making and how you oh so desperately wanted to come. 

He watched your face, teeth digging marks into his bottom lip as his fingers slowly stopped their rhythm. Only when you couldn't take it anymore and you attempted to squirm away from him, that was. 

"You did so good, baby." His lips replaced his hand with a much gentle kiss. He pulled back as he sat up, slipping his coated fingers past his lips in the process. "You taste really fucking good, too." 

This man was going to be the fucking death of you. 

You breathed out long pants, your forearm over your forehead as you tried to bring yourself back down to earth. You watched him shuffle around a bit. Until he was once again above you, his massive arms caging your head. 

"You okay, pretty?" He ran a careful hand over your face, looking you over with tenderness. It warmed your heart just how gentle he could be after absolutely wrecking you. 

"Uh huh. I'm perfect." You gave him a lazy smile, throwing your arms around his neck to hold him closer. "Are you going to fuck me now, handsome?" 

Leon looked at you with surprise at your shot of confidence, but the look in your eyes was of need. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he tugged his pijama pants down his hips, kicking them off the rest of the way somewhere to join yours. Your sweatshirt was next, and Leon was more than pleased to find you bare under it. 

"Just the way you deserve, pretty girl." He pressed a long, hard kiss to your lips before he sat back on his knees. 

Your legs hung lazily over his hips, completely at his mercy as he slowly rubbed himself through your folds, covering himself in your slick. Your lips fell open into a soft whimper. Leon shot you a small grin, his blue eyes filled with a wave of lust not once leaving your face as he slowly slid into you. His own lips parted and a grunt fell from them as your walls took him in. It was intoxicating. He was fucking addicted to it. 

"Goddamn baby, you take me so well." He sighed out, grinding his hips ever so slightly, enough to make you whine. 

"Leon, please. Just take me." You whined, slightly grinding your hips to give yourself some relief. He tilted his head at you, both hands gripping your hips with a tight grip. 

"Why are we so needy today, hm?" He teased, lazily dragging his cock in and out, not stopping but also not giving you what you wanted. 

"Ugh— you! You do this to me." You all but shouted at him, instantly regretting your volume and you swallowed hard at the glare he shot you. 

"I swear to God if you woke up my daughter." He groaned and leaned down, picking up his pace without a warning. "I am so going to fuck this attitude out of you." 

Any and all witty comebacks you could have come up with then were lost the second he started to drill into you, the angle making you feel the little hairs at the base of his cock brush against your clit with each snap of his hips. Your body would have slid back and forth on the mattress had it not been for the tight grip he kept on your hips. You were sure you were going to have his fingers printed on your skin in the morning. But God, you didn't care at all. 

"Shit— shit Leon— you feel so—" You whined into the air, your head falling to the side to muffle your cries on one of his pillows.

"Feels good, baby?" He gave you a particular deep thrust that made you slide up the mattress and you nodded harshly. "Yeah?" 

"More—" You breathed out, mindlessly reaching for him, only finding his wrist. 

Leon bit his already puffy red lip, long strands of hair falling over his forehead as he moved above you, his body now hovering over yours. Your knees were now damn near next to your head as he kept fucking you into the mattress. The new angle made you see fucking heaven now. 

"Like that?" 

You barely missed his words entirely, you were so drunk on the feeling of his cock, on his scent now mixed with your own. You didn't know many things, but of one thing you were certain, you could never get enough of this man. 

"Yes, yes, yes." You chanted into the air, almost delirious, like a praise only meant for his ears. 

Leon grunted softly, leaning down to brush hid nose against yours. He spoke words of praise so quiet you would have missed them had he not been so close. Your hands were on his face, barely holding on to him for dear life. His lips found your wrist, then your palm and in an instant one of his hands gathered both of yours, pinning them both above your head. You were absolutely helpless and at his mercy. And you wouldn't want it any other way. 

"Are you gonna come for me, pretty girl?" He slurred the words against your cheek, his cock buried so deep it was only a matter of time before you fell apart. You gave him a half nod, mouth agape as quiet moans fell on his ears. "Yeah, you are. I want to feel you come on my cock, c'mon. Fuck— I need to feel you come on my cock again." 

"God Leon— fuck— I'm gonna—" Your back arched against his chest, toes curling as wave of pleasure overcame your body. And it only took the feeling of his thumb on your swollen clit to fall apart completely. 

His mouth covered yours as your body convulsed under his, your orgasm hitting you so hard you were squeezing the shit out of Leon's hand above you. He happily swallowed the cries from your mouth as he continued to drill into you, rutting himself against you. He could only control himself for so long. 

"Fuck me— Goddamn baby, you drive me crazy. You take me so fucking well." He grunted against your cheek, his free hand now sprawled across your neck. He didn't squeeze this time, he only held you as he gave you one, two more thrusts of his hips before he was spilling himself inside you. "Atta girl. Atta girl." 

His lips were lazy on your cheek, leaving gentle kisses in his wake. A drunken giggle left your lips at the slight tickle his stubble left on your skin. His hands were now beside your head and he lifted his head enough to look at you. 

"Doing okay, pretty?" He asked with this pussy-drunk smile on his face, one of his fingers brushing the side of your face, "hm?" 

"Yeah, I'm living my best life." You giggled softly, opening your eyes to find his sapphire ones staring sweetly at you. 

"Sure you are, with my dick deep enough to feel me in your stomach, what more could you ask?" He teased, his lips curved up into a smug grin. You widened your eyes at him and smacked his shoulder. 

"You're insufferable." You rolled your eyes at him and attempted to move from under him but he was a brick wall above you, he refused to move a muscle. 

"You adore me. Wouldn't be here otherwise." He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and removed himself from you. His words lingered on your mind. You weren't sure what the fuck it was that you felt for this man, other than the utter need to be fucked by him. But outside of the obvious chemistry, you wanted to be around him, to be around Isabella. You couldn't help it. You were catching feelings for him and his little girl.

You watched with big eyes as he stood up and walked around the bed, you couldn't help but giggle a bit. He turned to shoot you a questioning glance. 

"You actually took your pants off today." 

Leon furrowed his eyebrows even more confused and looked down, in fact very naked, "Yeah?"

"You didn't last time," You laughed softly, sitting up, amused by the way his cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. 

"How would you know that? You were on your stomach, then on your back the whole night." He teased you back, making big eyes at you. 

"I heard your belt rattle the whole time.'" You rolled your eyes, now sitting on your knees at the edge of the bed to meet where he stood. He narrowed his eyes at you as he leaned down to meet your lips. 

"Guess I was that eager to fuck your brains out." He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he nudged to his bathroom. "Clean you up, then maybe, stay the night?" 

"Really? You scrunched up your face at him, eyes slightly widening at the idea of being in his bedroom while Izzy was down the hall. But you had to admit you couldn't say no to this man. "I mean, that'd be nice but—"

"Hey, don't worry. She doesn't have to know you're here if that's what's on your mind. We'll get there when we have to." 

We'll get there when we have to. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't sure exactly when morning came. Leon had closed the blinds before getting into bed with you last night. Tiredly so, after he decided taking you one last time would be ideal. You had decided to spend the night with him. What was the worst that could happen, right? 

An embracing warmth surrounded your body, and it wasn't exactly the thick soft duvets that covered you. When sleep slowly slipped from you, your eyes fluttered open to find Leon. Your face was snuggled deep into his chest as his arms were wrapped around you, holding you close, keeping you warm. The bourbon and vanilla lingered on his skin and took you in like the sweetest of greetings. You smiled softly, snuggling further into him. Leon had been awake for a little while. But he refused to get up so as not to wake you, he simply held you, his fingers resting on your scalp soothingly. Only when he felt you stir awake did he move. 

"Morning, pretty." His low raspy voice filled your ears and you felt a pair of cold lips on your forehead. You hummed softly, lifting your head to find him already looking at you with those eyes. 

"Morning, handsome." You pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone as you laid your head on his chest. 

"You sleep okay?" You heard him mumble above you. You nodded.

"Slept nice and warm." You smiled, running your fingers over the prominent patch of hair on his chest. 

"I'm good at something after all." He snorted. 

You were about to respond with one of your witty comments when you heard a few rapid but soft knocks on the door. The doorknob turned a couple of times with no result since it was locked. You and Leon jumped into a sitting position at the sound. Leon in particular had a 'oh uh' look on his face. 

"Daddyyyyyy! Why is your door locked?" You heard Isabella on the other side of the door. 

You looked at Leon who was frantically looking on the nightstand for his phone. 

"Fuck. Goddammit." You heard him curse under his breath as he harshly stood up, shuffling around the nightstand. 

When the fuck did he leave his gun out last night? He groaned to himself. Walking across the room with his handgun in one hand and his phone in the other. Which you clearly didn't miss. 

"Leon, why do you have a gun right now?" You asked, anxiously holding the covers up to your chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious and embarrassed. 

"Government issue. Forgot to put it in my safe last night." He answered over his shoulder as he went into his walk-in closet, he came out a minute later. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I completely forgot she had to get up early today. Let me get her in the shower then I'll be back, okay?" 

You pursed your lips softly, a bit disappointed you wouldn't be able to spend the morning with him. But it was understandable, his daughter was first, and it certainly wasn't time to introduce, well whatever the two of you were. He leaned down to capture your lips into an apologetic kiss. 

"'S okay. Go, take care of Izzy, I'll be here." 

He shot you a smile and nodded. He found his pants from the night prior and slipped on a random sweatshirt he found sitting on his dresser. He shot you a wink before he slipped out the door, closing it behind him. 

"Daddy." 

Leon was met with a very grumpy and frowny little girl as soon as he closed his bedroom door. His eyes widened at the sight of her with her arms crossed. 

"Yes, bee?" Play dumb. Why not? 

"Why was your door locked?" She repeated her question from earlier, sapphire eyes intensely staring him down. Like he was a suspect that needed intimidation and she was the agent doing the intimidating.

"'Cause I'm an adult and I can lock my door. What did I tell you about minding your business?" He gave her a look, but he wasn't being serious, not really. Her face didn't otherwise change, though. 

"I'm going to be late, daddy." 

"No, you're not. Isn't your ballet lesson at 9:00 a.m? It's 7:00 a.m." Leon rolled his eyes at his little girl and picked her up. She, of course, didn't protest at all. 

"Well, yeah, but I want breakfast." She rebutted. Leon couldn't help but chuckle at her. 

He took her to her bedroom, setting her on her bed before he walked to her closet. 

"Yeah, well, you're taking a shower first, bee, you stink." He snorted when she very loudly disagreed, that she did not, in fact, stink. 

"I do not! You do!" 

"I showered last night. I can't stink. Your nose doesn't work." He kept annoying her until he found her ballet clothes. He walked back to her bed, handing her the folded clothes. "Go on, go shower. Just don't get your hair wet, remember I have to put it up, okay?" 

"Okay daddy." Izzy happily took her clothes and skipped out of her bedroom, but not before popping her head back in to say, "Can I have waffles for breakfast please? With lots of syrup and bacon?" 

Leon looked at Izzy with soft eyes, his heart warming ever so slightly at his little girl, and he nodded. 

"Of course, Izzy. Whatever you want." He waved her away and she happily skipped, going on about her daddy being the best daddy in the world. He couldn't help but laugh to himself and at the wonderful daughter life decided to give him. 

When Leon returned to his bedroom he watched you hurry back to his bed like a child that just got caught doing something you weren't supposed to. He raised an amused eyebrow at you when you slightly bounced on his bed, eyes big as you tried to hide the smile on your lips. 

"You're so nosy." He chuckled, rolling his eyes at you. 

"What? I wasn't doing anything.." You bit your lip softly, holding back a giggle. "Just that your little girl has you wrapped around her finger."

If he had rolled his eyes any harder, they would have gotten stuck there. But the tiny curve on his lips told you he was more than happy about it. He shrugged as he stood in front of you, leaning down to your eye level. 

"She's not the only one." He grinned softly at the confused look you gave him. "I know it's soon but I can't stop thinking about you. You're sweet, absolutely gorgeous and you're kind to my little girl. So, maybe you'd like to try something with me?" 

"If you wanted to ask me on another date you could just say so, you know my answer." There was a playful smile on your lips as he leaned down to kiss you. 

"After I drop Izzy off at ballet? We could grab brunch, and, I don't know, let's do something you like. How does that sound, Miss?" 

Christ, you felt so stupid, so naive, like this could go all kinds of wrong but, what's the worst that could happen? 

“Sounds like a start, Mr. Kennedy.”

[maxinehufflepuffprincess]

I Vote Aguni

Chishiya Shuntaro x Reader x Niragi Suguru

(So I was gonna wait before posting this. However, Jack of Hearts is almost done. Yay. However, I can not write anymore tonight, I have a migraine coming on. So I'm taking a break. Hopefully, Jack of Hearts will be out tomorrow. Fingers crossed. For now, enjoy this story. Sorry if it's bad. Probably is.)

Warnings: Mentions of death. Cursing.

Masterlist.

Progress Update.

Love Line Collection.

Summary: Hatter is dead, and Niragi wants Aguni to be the new leader. You and Chishiya will support him on this, right? He won't take this too far, right?

“What the hell do you two want? No one asked you to come here.” Niragi's voice pulled you out of your daze. You had been looking out of the window, watching the people below. You turned to see Arisu and Usgai.

“Actually, I'm the one who asked him.” Chishiya made his way over to Niragi, hands shoved into the pockets of his white jacket.

Niragi turned to him and scoffed. “Yeah? Who says you can summon people now?” His gun was resting on his shoulder. 

Chishiya walked a little closer to Niragi. “There's something important he has to hear.” His eyes shifted to Arisu. “Let's go in.” The blonde turned to look at you. “You too, sweetness.” You smiled at your boyfriend and walked over to him. You looked over at Niragi for a moment and gave him a sweet smile. It made his heart swoon. 

“See you later,” Arisu says to Usgai, who gave him a nod. “What's going on?” He asked Chishiya as he walked to his other side. The three of you approached the doors. “Not a clue, but it's gotta be something pretty serious.” Chishiya pulled open the doors and walked into the room. There was Hatter, dead. 

----

Tatta and Ann come in mere seconds later. “He couldn't clear the game,” Tatta said as Ann stepped closer to the body. “The maintenance team just happened to find him in Shinjuku while we were filling up with gas.”

As Ann stepped closer, her hand reaching out to Hatter’s body, a voice filled the room. “Hey, do me a favor and keep your hands off him. You’re obsessed with dissecting things.” Niragi told her as he walked past her and over to Aguni.

“This is from a bullet. Did the game he was playing involve a gun?” Ann asked.

“Seems like it. Apparently, people around the game area heard gunshots.” Tatta explained to the woman.

“Holy shit! Looks like he should’ve brought the militant corps along with him.” Niragi seemed almost happy at that idea. 

You were standing between Chishiya and Arisu. You watched as Chishiya looked at Arisu and shook his head. You felt bad. Whilst you weren’t Hatter’s number one fan. Seeing him dead was an upsetting sight.

“So now what? What happens to the beach?” One of Hatter’s guards asked. Joe. You were sure that was his name.

“Nobody says a word about this, understood?” Mira demanded, looking as composed as ever. “We don’t want people freaking out.”

“I’ll step in as leader since I’m number two.” Kuzuryu stated as he took a step forward, ready to take on the role.  

“Wait a second.” Niragi made his way from Aguni’s left to his right to walk over to Kuzuryu. “Shouldn’t the strongest person be the leader?” He asked, looking over at Aguni and then at Kuzuryu. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re the ones who have been getting rid of the traitors, but we’ve been thrown into the shadows the whole time. This bullshit ends now, you got that?”

“If number 1 dies, everyone moves up a number. We all knew that.” 

“Yeah, well, this elitist dictator is dead. The power had shifted, hasn’t it? Let’s just be democratic and go with the majority.” Niragi let out a scoff. “Who’s with me and thinks that Aguni should be our new leader?” He asked, standing between Kuzuryu and Mira. 

No one moved. You noticed Last Boss straighten up.

Niragi scoffed, and he looked disgusted. “Are you all serious right now? Last Boss.” He gave his friend a nod. Oh, that wasn’t good. Those two fed off each other’s violence.

Last Boss pulled out his sword as he walked over to Ann. He raised it, pointing it at the woman. 

“So I’ll ask again. Who thinks Aguni should be the leader?” Ann raised her hand. 

“This is not a democracy,” Mira stated calmly, and Niragi let out a scoffed laugh. He walked to the other side of her. “But I think it is, isn’t it?” He aimed his gun at her, keeping it low so that it was under her chin but not touching. “You can vote however you want, right?” He stuck his tongue out before licking his bottom lip. Mira lifted her hand. 

“And how about the former number two over there? What do you think?” Kuzuryu raised his hand. Niragi turned, causing Joe to lift his hand. His gaze settles on you and Chishiya. He cocked his gun. “And what about you?” He asked, pointing the gun at the blonde as he walked over to the pair of you. 

Chishiya looked at him. He wasn’t impressed. He looked a little bored. “Chishiya.” Niragi put his gun down so it was facing up. “You’re not looking down on us, are ya?” Niragi licked his bottom lip as he looked at the shorter male. He could see that look in Chishiya’s eye. Whilst to others he looked like he didn’t care, you and Niragi saw the challenge in his eyes. He was ready to play a little.

“But you guys are really stupid.” Oh okay. That’s how it was. This was how they flirted in public. With jabs, insults, with pointing weapons at one another. It was like a strange little dance between the two of them, but It always ended with the three of you having fun in bed.

Niragi stepped close to Chishiya. He placed his gun under the blonde’s chin. “Those eyes of yours piss me off sometimes, you know that? You think you’re better than us, don’t ya?” The two were silent. Everyone thought it was a strange little power battle, but you knew better. A part of you wonded if Aguni knew better too. You could see his eyes darting between the three of you. You saw Chishiya smirking, Niragi looking at his lips. Then Chishiya raised both of his hands, leaning back slightly. “I vote for Aguni to be the leader.” He looked at the gun and then at Niragi. A smug look on his face. “I’m pretty sure that’s what you want to hear, don’t you?” Chishiya asked, the cocky little shit. He was pushing it. He knew he was. He would pay for it tonight. But for now, he was having fun. “Well, let this be a reminder of how you should act in the future.” Niragi glared at the blonde. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Chishiya told him, causing Niragi to turn to you. 

“Baby. Why’s your hand not up?” He asked, walking over to you. His voice, softer than he had been with the others. He stood between you and Arisu. His hand slipped around your waist, pulling you close to his body. “Maybe I wanted you to raise it for me? Or maybe, Chishiya’s second hand can count as my vote.” You told him with a smile on your lips. Niragi licked his lips and let out a chuckle. He took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles before lifting your hand up. “Oh look. Another vote for Aguni.” You said in mock surprise. Niragi shook his head. “You’re getting dangerously close to a spanking, Princess.” He did not just say that in front of everyone. Chishiya turned to look at you both. He very clearly liked the idea. You locked eyes with him. The look on your face was a clear 'shut the fuck up.'

“Hey, why are you looking so freaked out?” Niragi asked, turning to Arisu, who had been watching the three of you. It was almost like he could tell something was going on. ”I thought I told you to give me an answer.” Niragi walked over to him, gun pointed at him. “Whose side are you on, anyway?” Last Boss suddenly pointed his sword at Arisu. The poor boy looked scared, though it just made Niragi giggle. “You just about shit yourself there, huh?” Arisu raised his hand as Niragi laughed. “Look at his face.”

“Niragi.” You said, causing him to turn to you. “Yes, doll?” He asked as he walked back over to you. “Leave the poor boy alone.” You told him as you put your hand down, worry and sweetness dropping from your voice. You looked at Arisu, then at Nragi, then at Chishiya. He was amused. Of course, you were standing up for the pawn in his plan. Niragi reached out, grabbing your jaw in his hand, making you face him. “Be a good girl and keep your hand up, Princess.” He told you before letting go of your face. You had to swallow your whimper from his words. “Alright. Looks like we have a unanimous decision. So we’ve got a new leader, right?” 

“Hatter would not allow this,” Mira commented. “If he were alive, he would not have allowed this.” 

Niragi chuckled as he walked over to Hatter, standing beside Ann. “But he’s not alive. Is he?” The hit Hatter’s face with his gun, causing you to gasp. You looked away. “The dead really have no say as to what’s going on. Watch.” He hit him again and again, and again. “See.” He continued to hit him until Aguni spoke up. 

“That’s enough.” Niragi straightened up and walked over to stand by Aguni’s side. His eyes are on you and Chishiya. The two of you were standing close together.  “From this day onwards, I will be the Beach’s new king.”

Niragi let out a sigh. “Yeah, let’s hear it for the King, huh?” He asked as he clapped his hands. Though he was the only one. A part of you felt bad, so you did a small clap, which caused Niragi to grin at you. “Good girl.” Oh, now was not the time for that. He then turned to Aguni. “Okay, boss. Time for the succession ceremony, right? Maybe you should open up the black envelope.” He said as he turned to face Aguni. 

—--

Chishiya was happy to hear about that. This meant that the plan could move forward. Everything was falling into place, and by the look on Niragi’s face, he knew it too. They knew the best time to act would be when Aguni gives his speech in the annex. The opening of the black letter would take place. However, after that and just before Aguni’s speech, the three of you were able to slip away. 

Chishiya leant against a wall, looking at the two of you. “Did you have to go that far?” He asked Niragi. The taller male shrugged. “Don’t be like that, you loved it. I saw it written in your pretty eyes.” Niragi told him. You let out a soft giggle at them, causing them both to look at you. You gently grabbed their hands. “Did you have to threaten everyone?" You asked Niragi, who nodded confidently.

"Are you sure this is going to work?” You asked the two. You had to ask. Just one more time. Niragi let out a small sigh. "Yes. It'll work." Chishiya let out a small sigh. “I’m sure. Niragi will be with Aguni, I’ll make sure the pawn is in place to be caught. I need you to make sure everything is ready to go. As soon as I get those cards, we’re out of here. Tonight.” 

You nodded. Though you didn’t like that he wasn’t telling you who the pawn was. You had a suspicion, though you hoped you were wrong. “Alright. I’ll see you two back in our room after this, okay?” You gently kissed Chishiya before turning and kissing Niragi. You smiled at the two and shook your head. “Be quick. I’m missing you both already.” You told them with a teasing wink before you walked off.

Niragi and Chishiya watched you walk away. You were heading to your shared room, ready to make sure everything was packed. The two turned and walked to the annex. Chishiya got ready to get into position. “Be careful, alright?” Niragi said. Chishiya nodded his head. “I will. Just be ready. Once Arisu is in position, I’ll come get Aguni.” The coast was clear and the two shared a quick kiss. “See you soon, pretty boy.” With that, the two parted ways. Both are ready for the plan to take place. Both were ready to get to you as soon as they could, so the three of you and Kuina could leave the beach.

Taglist: Thank you for supporting me.

@thecheshireprincess @mocchii-writes @moonchild323232 @potato-vagina @monkey4lifer @kimsrie @so-dramatic1 @28361573 @onceinablueberrymoon @spanish-delulu-23

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

This took way too fucking long- Everyone, gaze upon the Megatron/Galvatron height chart I made. If someone could get me a cold drink, I would love one, I have been working on this for the better part of a month. 26 separate designs, for one character, across 40 years of history. And I had to exclude a couple, the grand total is like 30 different ones. I left those four out because they were just pallet swaps of a design I already had; It felt redundant to include them.

This guy just can not decide if he's named Megatron or Galvatron sometimes, he just switches between the two names at random. I think in Unicron Trilogy, he switches to Galvatron multiple times, and yes, he does switch back to Megatron before every one.

My brain is kinda broken after finishing this. I worked on this one and the Optimus one at the same time (the optimus one is so much bigger holy shit-) and I've lost the ability to feel pain at this point.

Quick Disclaimer, if any of the images look weird, it's because I had to stitch a few separate images together to create a full body shot of the character.

Links to my Bumblebee Chart and my Optimus Chart. !!NEW!! -> Shockwave, Soundwave, Ratchet, and Ironhide. For future reference, all these charts will be filed under my "Transformers Height Charts" tag and my "aka the adventures of a..." tag. Hopefully, my bumblebee post is acting up and idk if the same issue will happen here.

Master Post

Explanations below the cut, I have to justify myself for a few of these.

G1 Beast Wars V1 - ~9 Feet (PMeg. TFWiki, he's so small. Dinosaur Man is so small)

G1 Beast Wars V2 - ~10 Feet (PMeg. TFWiki, This fucker has roller blades. I'm not fucking with you, they gave the T-Rex Roller Blades and he uses them)

G1 Beast Machines V1 - ~12 Feet (PMEG. The Wiki doesn't have any numbers for Beast machines, sadly, but I found an old forum post comparing the heights to the Beast Wars designs, so I win)

G1 Beast Wars V3/Machines V2 - ~13 Feet (PMEG. The TFWiki says this bitch is like 11.5 meters tall, but no, I've done the math, he is not. If he was, Rattrap, a character who is consistently stated to be 1.8 meters tall across multiple sources in multiple languages is actually not that tall. So no, he's about 2 and a bit Rattraps tall, and that translates to about 13 feet. And I'm pretty sure he reverts into this at some point in Beast machines, though correct me if I'm wrong)

G1 Beast Machines V3 - ~16 Feet (PMeg. This design is identical to the Optimal Optimus design so I'm gonna be lazy and use that number. Not like I have many other options.)

Beast Wars 2 - ~16 Feet (Galv. Idk, the wiki had the number and his name is Galvatron, was I supposed to ignore this? Never gonna watch it, but here it is)

Earth Spark - ~16 Feet 2 Inches (Mega. There are no actual numbers for Earth Spark (yet), but I was able to find Bumblebee's height, which I then compared to Optimus's height, and now I can compare Optimus and Megatron.

Yay!- he's so short it's so fucking funny tiny short man universe)

One V1 - ~17 Feet (Mega. I am aware, of the supposed "Canon Heights" listed on the wiki. 32.462 feet, allegedly. But, have you considered A: These numbers are sourced from the Walmart Promotional AR Experience that came out before the movie. B: There are three decimal points, and that number does not convert into a whole number in meters (which is originally what I thought was weird about it). C: The director has said that this movie is both canon to the LA movies and its own separate canon. AND ALSO Meg is taller than Optimus the entire movie but his height is listed as shorter than him on the wiki. They are the same height by the end of the movie, I call BULLSHIT Walmart; these are not actual numbers I will ignore them POST HASTE! Sadly, Megatron has yet to appear in the KCV live-action movies as I make this, but we know Meg and OP are the same height by the end of TFOne, so knock a couple of feet off this one, and we get pre-cog height)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~18 Feet (PMeg. Slightly confusing, but there are two Megatrons in this universe, but they are two completely separate characters. This is Predacon Megatron, design-wise identical to his V1 Beast Wars counterpart, but he is much taller in this universe. So I did some admittedly deranged comparisons to other characters and I got this height. It's a similar ratio to Prime & Primal's height difference so I'm running with it)

Gen 1 V2 - ~ 18 Feet 6 inches (Galv. So the Wiki failed me on this one, but- and maybe this is backwards thinking, the WFCT Galvatron is this height, at least comparing him to WFCT Megatron, who I've decided is the same height as Gen 1 Megatron, who we actually have a number for- I am aware it's convoluted but it's all I got)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~18 Feet 6 inches (Galv. Okay so, Galvatron and Megatron are entirely separate beings in this universe, which is a large departure from Gen 1 where they're effectively the same guy, which means I could compare their heights, and this is about the height Galvatron is. And I have decided that the WFCT Megatron is the same height as Gen 1 Megatron because they're nearly identical otherwise, making the assumption that the Galvatrons are the same easy. The amount of hoops I have to jump through sometimes...)

Gen 1 V1 - ~19 Feet (Mega. TFWiki. Hey look, it's the guy that's the foundation of like 5 other character's calculations)

Prime Wars - ~19 Feet (Mega. As I've said before, I have decided that this design is the same height as the Gen 1 design, because they're identical, yes one is 2d, and the other is 3d but I don't care)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~19 Feet (Mega. You already know what I'm going to say; it's identical to Gen 1. Just try and stop me)

Unicron Trilogy V2&3/ENG&CYB - ~19 Feet (Mega/Galv. He flip-flops so much in this universe, I think Megatron becomes Galvatron 3 separate times. For the uneducated, the Unicron Trilogy has given each of its 3 seasons separate names and 3 separate art styles. These are the designs used in Energon (S2) and Cybertron (S3). The Wiki had Cybertron's numbers but not Energon's, so for my own sanity, I decided the two were the same height. I could have done something in between Cybertron's and Armada's (S1) numbers, but there was a lot of float between the two)

One V2 - 19 Feet 10 Inches (Mega. As I have stated in the previous One entry: I don't trust Walmart, Meg and OP are the same height by the end of the movie, and the KCV LA and One are kinda one universe. Optimus is this height by the end of the movie, therefore so is Megatron. How many times do I have to explain this)

Cyberverse - 21 Feet (Oh sweet, sweet "I don't have to justify or explain my numbers, I have a source". This comes from a screen-shot of this video which has the Cyberverse height chart everyone uses, though the quality of the screen shot is iffy. If anyone has a better one, I would love to see it)

RID 2001 - ~22 Feet (Mega/Galv. TFWiki. Why are there so many Megatrons who become Galvtron at random and look functionally identical to each other why does this keep happening. Also this guy transforms into a hand)

Unicron Trilogy V1 - ~23 Feet (Mega/Galv. TFWiki. I am very tired, we have another functionally identical Megatron Galvatron conversion and I am in pain)

Bayverse V2 - 30 Feet (Mega/Galv. TFWiki, Movies 4 & 5. This time, they're actually identical, and Mr. Bay has once again blessed me with numbers from all of his movies)

Aligned Cont. WF/FOC - ~30 Feet (Mega. TFWiki. Look man, I don't know how he grows nearly five feet between the games and the shows, it's just what the video game info screen said)

Animated - ~31 Feet (Mega. Animated has no actual numbers, but the lovely @phoenix-inanis has provided a frankly astounding resource with their own calculations for the heights of all the TFA characters. Go look at it, it's wonderful -> https://phoenix-inanis.notion.site/TFA-Height-Chart-f6ad2960ca8c4c5b859ee4958723aaa4?pvs=4)

Aligned Cont. TFP V1 - 34 Feet 5 Inches (Mega. Yes, this is from Fandom. But, and I will continue to say this until my lungs give out, this entire universe is just fucking enormous. Look, I believe Bayverse is the most consistent tf universe when it comes to the transformers' models and designs, and if we do some comparisons between characters with similar listed heights (I did it at the end of this post), it's way too close for me not to believe it)

Bayverse V1 - 35 Feet (Mega. TFWiki, Movies 1-3. Look at this bitch, getting his secrets exposed by Mr. Bay. Look at him, he's going to shrink down in the forth movie, gonna get dumped down to 6th place on the podium. Get Shrunk, Idiot)

Aligned Cont. TFP PR V2 - 42 Feet 7 Inches (Mega. Look at this enormous bitch, look at the freak standing there, fuckin enormous n' shit. Wack ass Unicron- Did you know that this is probably the TALLEST base form transformer ever? Excluding any super modes or upgrades or a transforming Cybertronian Base/Spaceship, just default general body size, I'm pretty sure this Megatron is the tallest Regular transformer ever)

Not Pictured: RID 2001 Galvatron Pallet - ~22 Feet (the only thing that was different between the two designs was the colours, if felt redundant to include it), Unicron Trilogy Galvatron Pallet(s) - Armada: ~23 Feet, Energon/Cybertron: ~19 Feet (Again, just the colours changed, otherwise everything else was the same)

I have done it. I have conquered my Everest. I have finished the big two charts. If anyone has any suggestions for which transformer I should aggressively analyze next please tell me I don't know which ones to do next

Here are the different layers separated out into their own pictures, I know it's kinda hard to tell everyone apart when they're all on top of each other.

[a-random-weeb]

NOOOO BUT PURPOSELY TRYING TO MAKE BSD MEN FAIL NNN

ft. Dazai, Ranpo, Nikolai, and Sigma

(You’re gonna write for Chuuya anyways)

Hehehe, this sounds hilarious.

Also, you know I don't write for Nikolai

Anyway here are some short headcannons, like, you thought Chuuya was short? Think again

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

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡

ﾟ。 Chuuya:

　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

(I tried to put a heart around his name)

•He doesn't like NNN, but participates in it none the less (Only because you begged him to)

•Omg he wants to kill you when you try to make things harder for him

•He figures out your plan pretty quickly, and he's pissed

•You got him to participate so you could tempt him!

•You wear revealing clothes around the house and it pisses him off

•He probably can go the whole month without nutting, but watch out, because the minute it hits December first- well, he had to do 'no nut November', now you have to do 'no walk December' if you you what I mean 😏

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚౨ৎ˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚౨ৎ˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚౨ৎ˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚౨ৎ

Sigma:

•Sigma thinks NNN is stupid

•But, you joke that it's because he's too horny not to participate, and what do you know? He actually participated because of the stupid joke you made

•He tries his best, but in the end he probably fails

•He can't handle it, you dressing up so proactively, you flirting and being all sexy, he needs you

•♪you try so hard, and get so far, but in the end, it doesn't even matter~♪

•^that song is the apitamy of how he feels

•When he fails, he comes too you all dramatically like "I failed No Nut November, omg, this is the end of the worlldddddd"

•Poor thing thinks he's done something wrong 😭

•You just laugh and help him with his little 'Problem'

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩°❀⋆.

Dazai:

•He loves No Nut November

•He makes you participate with him

•He knows your plans to try to get him to fail, but he also has plans to make you fail

•Bro will walk around in his boxers. He will be cuddling with you on the couch (only in his boxers) and out of nowhere pull you onto his lap, and make sure you feel his hard shaft against your ass, maybe even rub himself against you a little. He'll kiss your neck and grind against you, whispering dirty stuff in your ear like "When this month is done, you're mine~"

•Yeah, you're not winning sweety

•The worst part is, he won't let you do him til December! Even if you lose!

•You'll have to get yourself off until then

•Even if you lose, he'll still tempt you, but won't let you touch him, it's Hell

•Have fun waiting~

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑‧˚ ⋅ .°જ➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑‧˚ ⋅ .°જ➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑‧˚ ⋅ .°જ

Ranpo:

•He doesn't participate in it, he thinks it's pointless

•But he will be really pouty if you participate

•He'll whine and annoy you about it

•He knows what you're trying to do, and he complains so much

•He can't wait for the month to end

+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°

Yay, I've posted again! I feel bad I haven't been posting, I'm so sorry guys 😭

[curvywrites]

❝ ADVICE ❞

Yunho x curvy!reader︰1.5k

AUTHORS NOTE︰yay I can post again! as always hope you enjoy and tell me your thoughts ― xo Raye ✷ FIC NOTES︰18+ ⋅ established relationship ⋅ jealousy ⋅ possessiveness

✷ SMUT NOTES︰bdsm themes ⋅ daddy kink ⋅ degredation ⋅ dom!Yunho ⋅ pet names (baby, brat, pretty girl, slut) ⋅ sub!reader

Yunho always gave you excellent advice. It had been that way since you first met, with him always being your biggest supporter from chem lab to graduation. Even after your friendship evolved into something much, much more, he continued to surprise you with his gift.

You loved being on the receiving end of his counsel, and you were happy when he helped others too, or that was what you had been telling yourself lately. You were happy when he helped anyone but her. It wasn't your boyfriend's fault, he was just being himself, but you hated the way his new coworker was texting more frequently and asking for relationship advice.

It made you insanely jealous, which you hated to admit. You trusted Yunho, but you didn't trust her. She had been blowing up his phone all evening and interrupting your couch cuddle session, the sound of his latest notification making you snap.

"Why is she still texting you? Doesn't she know this is inappropriate?" You spat as Yunho looked at you, wide eyed and confused.

It didn't take long for his lips to shift into a smirk that lit up his eyes. He had you all figured out in ten seconds flat, as usual.

"Is my pretty girl jealous? Are you not getting enough attention?" Putting down his phone, his hand found your thigh as he twisted to face you. "Poor baby."

"No! I'm not jeal―" He silenced you by pressing his fingers over your pouting lips and shushing you.

"Aww, you're so cute when you're jealous. Let me make you feel better." Leaning into you, his eyes were focused on your lips, but he avoided them at the last moment, deviating to whisper in your ear. "Take your clothes off, now."

You were quick to obey, stripping off every piece of clothing and standing bare before your boyfriend. The way his eyes followed the curves of your body made you shiver, but you didn't dare try to cover yourself. He hated not being able to see all of you. You felt his eyes all over, and soon your chill turned to heat.

Yunho patted your spot on the couch beside him, taking your hand as you sat and guiding you to lay against the cushions piled at the end. "Lay back and spread your legs for me."

Gasping at his command, you slowly parted your thighs, letting him peek at your slit. It was actually difficult to open your legs for him, the air felt so cold compared to your hot pussy, but Yunho was impatient and did it himself. Gripping your knees and forcing them apart, he groaned as you whimpered at his roughness.

Watching his eyes darken as he took in your wetness made you squirm. Eyes lowering as he shifted, and you noticed the outline of his cock, already straining against his pants.

"Let me give you some advice baby," the tone of his voice made you catch his gaze, and he looked so serious leaning over you. "It's better to communicate your feelings instead of bottling them up. I don't like it when my girl is a brat."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!" Flushing hotly with embarrassment, you hid your face with your hands.

"Shh, it's okay. Trust me baby, I'm not interested. Now I'm gonna give you what you need." He leaned into the couch, finding a comfortable position as you waited with a pounding heart, peering though your fingers.

When he looked satisfied, his eyes locked with yours as he smiled insidiously. "You wanted my attention so badly, now you have it. Daddy wants you to touch yourself. I want to see you feel good."

Dragging your hands down, skimming your fingertips over your boobs, light enough to raise goosebumps and perk your nipples. Closing your eyes, you tugged at your nipples, panting as you felt Yunho's stare. You could hear him inhale sharply as you keened, loving that he was so focused even without seeing him.

It made you hot, your legs shaking slightly with anticipation as your fingers smoothed over your stomach, feeling the textured portions of skin that he loved to kiss before eating your pussy. Such thoughts made you realize your need, and you rushed to find your clit, but he held you back with a firm grip.

"Are you feeling that hot, pretty girl? Need to rub your clit already?" He waited for your nod of confirmation, even though your answer was obvious. "I'll let you, but brats need to listen to instructions."

Letting go of your wrist, you gently touched your finger tip to your soaked folds, the heat nearly burning your skin. As soon as you found your clit, Yunho gave his first order.

"Circle your clit baby―gently, slowly" You followed his command, listening as he told you to go slower and slower until you were touching yourself at a torturous pace.

Your thighs were quaking with effort, half from holding them wide and half from resisting the urge to disobey. You needed to cum, badly. Feeling Yunho's eyes on you like this and seeing his face contort with desire as his hard mask slipped for a second made your heart skip a beat and made you cry out. "Please Daddy, I wanna cum, I have to cum."

"Stop, not yet. Daddy still has so much special attention to give you. It's only for you baby, never for anyone else." Snatching your wrist again, he pulled your hand from between your legs, making your cunt ache with the loss.

Before you could breathe you felt two of his fingers prodding at your entrance, the wet sounds almost echoing in your ears as you clenched at the contact. Without warning, he buried his long fingers into your cunt, groaning as he felt you flutter around him, almost tipping you over the edge.

"Please, ah! ― Daddy I'm gonna―" you were so close, your body tensing even as you heard Yunho telling you no, but he was rubbing that gummy spot deep inside.

It was too much. You felt the snap, pussy squeezing his fingers tightly as you cried out with your release. Withdrawing his drenched fingers, Yunho tsked at your shaking body, disappointed in your behaviour. "Jealously makes you into such a brat."

He sat up onto his knees between yours, fingers undoing his belt, then his button, and finally inched down his zipper, almost as slowly as he made you touch yourself. Pulling his cock free, you took in his swollen length and red tip dripping precum. He dick was rock hard as it bumped against your pussy, searing hot on your sensitive slit.

A rough thrust had his cock spearing you, the stretch too much for you to handle as you whined loudly, but Yunho ignored you, not stopping until his hips were flush with yours, finally giving you time to adjust and prolong his teasing.

"There's no way I'm interested in her. Not when I have you baby, my little slut. Disobedient brat." Tugging his shirt over his head, he leaned down, his lips connecting with yours as his fingers dug into your soft waist, applying a bit too much pressure.

The buzz of his phone split startled you, the screen lighting up to show her calling, making you pout once again. He reached for the phone, picking it up and moving to turn it off, before smiling devilishly at you and wiggling it over your head.

"Should I pick up? I'm sure once she hears you crying for me to fuck you she'll get the hint." You had never been into exhibitionism but that made your breathing hitch and your pussy clench around Yunho as you said no, hard enough to make him grunt.

"Oh, my pretty girl is so dirty. Does that turn you on? Imagining her listening to me making you feel good―oh, fuck it does, I can feel it. Fuck, you're such a slut, my attention isn't enough, you still need more."

Dropping his phone to hold your hips, he thrust his cock into you harshly, like he was teaching you a lesson. Hard and intense, he had your eyes rolling backwards and your legs pushed up, letting him angle his cock to perfectly hit that spot that made you melt.

You were wailing as you felt the knot tighten again, your pussy throbbing with the drag of his cock along your walls. Warning him that you were close, he fucked into you harder, the tip of his cock bruising against your cervix as he tormented you, his own orgasm building.

"That's it, is my slut gonna cum? Yeah? Come for Daddy, come on my cock." The rasp in his voice did things to your cunt, as you felt your orgasm wash over, leaving you shivering and tingly.

Pulling out, Yunho cursed as he jerked his thick cock over your abdomen, moaning as cum coated your stomach, flowing into the creases of your skin.

Resting his forehead on yours, you both tried to catch your breath, and you were almost successful until you heard a muted voice calling out.

"Hello? Yunho? What's going on?"

[cupcakewebkinz]

So I mentioned I quickly wrote a Shellevision story last night... And I'm just gonna fuck everything and post it here. Yay!

No trigger warnings unless you're scared of gays, in that case you should get off my blog as I'm gay LOL

I hope y'all like it even if it is sloppy and probably has grammar problems and ooc moments aidbidhsdbjdg (under le cut for sanity sake)

Vee giggled as she watched Dandy’s little rock dog run off after the ball she had just thrown, having a great time winding down with Pebble after a long day of work. She was just relaxing with a fuzzy dark green blanket wrapped around her, despite never getting cold, her handler was very insistent on her keeping warm when she was outside in the colder months like this. Thus, she always had a blanket when she was out, even if it was quite warm for an autumn night. Vee looked up at the sky, smiling a little at the stars twinkling above. She looked back down as Pebble came rushing back over with the ball in his mouth, his tiny body popping up over the slightly overgrown grass every time he bounced forward towards her. It was oddly adorable, even if Vee would never admit she thought such a thing. She just held her hand out, and once he had approached, the ball dropped right into her hand.

"Good boy Pebble, good boy. Now go fetch!" Vee praised before she threw the ball, watching as the rock dog ran off after it, sighing when he faded off into the distance. She then looked back up at the stars, tilting her head a little. People say you could make wishes on them, right? She squinted at that idea, as there probably was no way that was even slightly true, even if it did seem like a fun idea. Her wish would never come true, regardless of how many stars she'd wish upon. She lowered her screen and looked beside her, smiling a little at the empty spot. Usually Dandy or Astro was there to help her watch Pebble to make sure he didn't run out of Gardenview's park, but it was just her today. She honestly couldn't have been more grateful, she would've been a wreck if one of them knew she was thinking about her again. Vee held out her hand again as she heard Pebble approach, and once the ball was once again in her hand, she just tossed it for him yet again. Pebble barked before he ran off, as he tended to do, while Vee was still kind of lost in thought, looking back up at the stars. Maybe she could wish for her to be there... No, she can't be dumb, there's no way she'd be able to come out and look at the stars tonight. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, putting a hand on her screen to help bring her back to reality. There's no way- she stopped her thought when she heard someone walking over. She had to focus on life again... They can't see her being such a mess. Though before she could say anything, the other just sat down beside her, and she couldn't honestly believe her eyes when she saw it was exactly who she was thinking about.

"Hey Vee, I thought you'd be out here. It's a nice night, isn't it?" Shelly asked quietly as she settled in her spot, adjusting her multicolored dinosaur themed blanket around herself before she looked at the absolutely bamboozled robot beside her.

"Oh uh, yeah, Pebble wanted to play fetch again so, I came out here, I wasn't expecting you to join. It's nice to see you though." Vee replied, smiling as she held out her hand for the pup, and only turned to look at him as she threw the ball again. She watched as he chased after it, then she turned back to the fossil now sitting beside her, who was silently staring up at the stars with a look of peaceful bliss on her face. Vee couldn't help but to smile at that, admiring her peaceful state and the small things that just made Shelly so precious. Like her little freckles, the little dirt stains that would never leave her shell no matter how much they scrubbed at them, the tiny cracks from the many tumbles she faced as a young toon. Vee moved a little closer, though she had to stop herself from getting too close, as she knew her screen must be buzzing from all the emotions she felt right now and didn't want to be caught staring at her best friend like this. Though she desperately wanted to get closer, to hold her, to touch her even the slightest bit, she wouldn't let herself. She wouldn't let herself just confess that she loved Shelly more than just a best friend... She couldn't, she couldn't risk losing their friendship. She started to back away a little, but Shelly gently stopped her with a hand on the side of her screen. Vee gently nuzzled her screen into her clawed hand, unable to stop herself anymore... She must tell her she loves her, even if it might cost everything. She must know.

"Shelly..." Vee mumbled, though she was gently stopped before she could even say what was on her mind.

"I love you too, Vee. I love you too." Shelly quietly said as she put her forehead against the top of Vee's monitor, her other claw soon gently holding the other side of Vee's screen. Vee was a blushing disaster, wondering how she knew that's what she was going to say, having absolutely no idea how much of a lesbian disaster she had been lately. Shelly wasn't going to call her out on it though, and was instead moving in for a kiss, however they were interrupted.

"Arf arf!"

The two immediately turned and looked at Pebble, having completely forgotten he was even there, their faces both bright with blush. Pebble, seeming to understand he was interrupting something, just picked up his ball and ran off to go inside. Vee just looked back at Shelly afterwards, gently putting a hand on her arm and nuzzling her screen back into her claws.

"I love you so much Shelly..." Vee quietly stated, smiling as she felt the fossil gently put her forehead against hers again. This felt so right, all of this, this all just felt... Great. Vee couldn't help but snuggle herself closer to Shelly as the other gently scratched the sides of her head, feeling so at ease with her so close. She could tell Shelly felt the same way, as she heard the other let out a relaxed sigh as they stayed so close. Neither had wanted to move, however, they knew they had to soon, they both realized that this probably doesn't look like just two friends bonding under the stars. They looked at each other before one dared to move... They knew they weren't just friends, they knew they'd have to admit that one day, they both could tell by the look in their eyes. Vee however was the first to move, as she carefully and slowly sat back up and moved Shelly's hands away from her face, though she couldn't hide how disappointed she was even if she cared to try. Shelly couldn't either, she could tell she was trying, but it definitely wasn't working out for her. Vee looked around, then looked back at the fossil, quickly attempting to think of a way they could enjoy the other's company like that again, then she had an idea. She quickly got up and turned around, unwrapping the blanket from herself before laying it down on the grass, then she simply... Pointed to it. Shelly looked very confused, as she had absolutely no idea what was going on, but slowly got up and sat down on the blanket anyways. Vee sat beside her gently, then looked over at her, watching her very confused expression for a minute as she tried to process everything. She confessed to Shelly, Shelly said she loved her back, and now Shelly probably thinks she's lost her marbles as they sit on her blanket together. How would she fix this..? She thought a little more, but before she said anything, Shelly looked back up at the stars again, then at Vee, then at the stars.

"Oh my goodness, you wanted to cuddle and stargaze like we did as little toons, didn't you? I'm sorry, I just, I didn't expect any of this and I'm-"

"It's okay, let's just cuddle and let ourselves understand what happened." Vee stated quietly, and Shelly just nodded in agreement, laying her blanket beside her before she laid down, having her left arm tucked under her head and her right arm out for snuggles. Vee immediately joined her, curling up against her right side and putting her head on her shoulder, ignoring the red fluff from Shelly's onesie that covered up part of her screen. Vee just wanted to cling to Shelly for a while and not think about anything, so she gently hugged her and clung to her onesie, which Shelly obviously didn't seem to mind as she just wrapped her free arm around her. The two then laid in silence, watching the stars together as they held each other close, seeming at peace with each other. Vee had missed this... It's been so long since they both were able to just cuddle and not think about what anyone had to say about them, and she knew Shelly probably did too. Vee barely understood how nobody really liked her, Shelly was such a kind and caring toon, always looking out for her friends and cheering them on. Yeah she smelled like dirt most of the time, but... It's grown to be a comforting scent to her. She's such a kind toon with such a sweet voice and caring soul... How could anyone not see that? Vee frowned a little at that thought, she probably shouldn't think too hard about that right now. She looked over at Shelly, who looked lost in her own thoughts as well, then decided to do something a little random to see if it'll help them both relax more.

"Hey Shelly, what constellations do you think the dinosaurs saw?" Vee quietly asked, getting a surprised look from Shelly in response, then a shrug.

"Honestly, they probably wouldn't have seen what we see, since the stars move and die, but they probably saw some pretty cool ones. If they even looked at stars... Oh, maybe we can find some star clusters that make dinosaur shapes!" Shelly replied with a sudden burst of excitement at her own idea, and Vee just nodded, watching as Shelly moved her arm out from under her head and soon was pointing out constellations that just barely looked like simplified dinosaurs. Vee didn't ever correct her though, she just listened to her ramble as she relaxed, feeling safe and secure as they both looked at the stars. She knew that no matter what now, they knew they weren't just friends anymore, and she was honestly more than okay with that. No matter what would happen to either of them... They'd always have the other right there to cheer them on. No matter what happens to Gardenview, they'll stay together. Vee looked up at Shelly again, then she looked back at the stars as she relaxed her body a little more, gently clinging to Shelly just a little tighter. Maybe wishes do come true after all... Vee squinted at the thought, no, she still wouldn't believe that. That's just childish thinking, even if her own dreams did come true that night.

[dis-astre]

THE JUNE REBELLION: NOT THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

i fear we need to talk about this since i've seen so many tiktok referring to the french revolution when talking about les miserables and it needs to be addressed (aka i'm going to get it out of my system once and for all so i can stop being bitter about it)

i mean, i see those kind of tiktok too much and i am annoyed so bare with me:

so, let's start with les miserables: when does it takes place ?

the chronology of les mis is very long, but the part everyone is referring to (and everyone's favourite part) is the barricades. the barricades takes place during the June Rebellion.

now what is the June Rebellion?

it's a two days rebellion that arise in Paris in an era of political and social instability.

in 1832. 43 years after the french revolution.

so it's safe to say, the plot of les miserables is not at all taking place during the french revolution. and this rebellion was a failure (a flop, as some might even say) and did not overthrow the government (sadly) at all for various reasons.

(see this post here about it, even thought pinpointing the reasons to why a revolution fails is, imo, a bit hard and i am in no way shape or form an historian)

now, for the French Revolution.

keeping it very simple, it starts in may 1789 and end on november 9th 1799 when napoleon did a coup and took the power (others (marxists mostly) might argue that it ended with the death of robespierre, soooo pick your poison). so right of the bat: the french revolution is not one big battle and boom, it's a long period of changes and instability.

i think what people refer to when saying "the french revolution" might be the 14th of July, with the Prise de la Bastille. i know it's a very important event as it is our national day (yay liberty) and it's historically the first big intervention by the parisians (as in the people as in the poor) in the revolution. personally i'm not crazy about this moment (i really really like the march of the women to Versailles in october 1789, insane) it wasn't actually that big of a battle but the repercussions were huge so good job. but here is the problem then, what would make you think this successful battle is the battle we see in les miserables?

[i'm gonna go on a personal mini-rant here but it seriously worries me that so many people, mostly Americans, have so little knowledge of this. i'm not saying you should know everything about french history (as a matter of fact you should not why would you do that to yourself) but it's like... basic knowledge. and what worries me the most is that they think a failed two days rebellion is the french revolution as if it was not an event that reshaped the entirety of the french political system and was a trigger to a lot of changes in europe???? i mean... look at that: ]

i know we have a lot of revolutions in french history but if you need to know one, know the French Revolution, at least just the fact that it was a years long event with successful battles and a successful outcome (not gonna go into the whole it's a revolution for the bourgeoisie thing even if... well it kinda is).

and if you have not read/seen les miserables with your eyes closed, you know that it is very not successful at all !

anyway, that's it !

to summarise:

French Revolution = 1789 / very long / successful outcome / successful battles / not in Les Miserables

June Rebellion = 1832 / 43 years after / two days long / failure / in Les Miserables

Recommendations of...

Movies during the French Revolution = Danton (Andrzej Wajda) / La Revolution Française I and II (Robert Enrico & Richard T. Heffron)

Musicals during the French Revolution = La Revolution Française (Alain Boublil & Claude-Michel Schoenberg, yes same dudes that made les mis the musical) / Les Amants de la Bastille (not good but definitely super fun to watch) / The Scarlet Pimpernel (Nan Knighton, haven't seen it but some of the songs SLAPS)

Now you can obsess on the french revolution correctly ! and it's all very good recommendations too ! yes !!!!!!

(some of my fav les miserables adaptations here too)

i'm done, thanks for sticking with me, i love you all and i will stop yapping now ! buh-bye!

[tumbleweedsthesecond]

CLONE HIGH CLOTHING SWAP!!(I'm gonna lore drop abt them but more importantly Anna )

Yayy lore time. So Anna is the clone of Anastasia Romanovna but she says she's the clone of Anastasia Romanov. This is because the other Anastasia Romanov is more well known and I like to include historical references in stuff. From what I know her body was never officially found, she was considered a mystery she was important because of that. Many people think she lived and escaped instead of being killed. Some people also pretended to be her or tried to for money from the aunt as is shown in the Disney movie. specifically Anna Anderson I think which is why I nicknamed her Anna. (If anyone needs to correct me on some of this stuff Ik its been a while since I've done research on the topic I've been researching other stuff.)

When Anna was cloned her foster father believed she was that Anastasia, so up until she was like 11 or so she believed she was Anastasia Romanov, she felt important. She watched the movie and loved the idea of being a princess, of being the one everyone was waiting for. Until one day scudworth told her she was wrong and got the names mixed up. So Anna saw Ivan and cried her eyes out. She didn't want to be the clone of some guys wife. She wants to be more important than that and not live in his shadow. She thinks she's important and seeing her dad disappointed about that really hurt her. So she decided that she was going to just cope. She'd forget everything scudworth said and live that lie. And it felt great for her, she brags about it alot. Though she's gone so far into coping she does almost believe it. because of that she's obsessed with popularity and living up to the real Anastasia Romanov. She wants to be famous, she studies hard and everything. She's even a cheerleader. Because of the coping thing it does make her view other people just as extensions of their clone parents. She thinks everyone thinks the way she does cause she's preppy. Also on why she expects people to be extensions of the clone parents is also due to some self loathing because of who she really is. That doesn't make her any less annoying though but I forgive her❤

Orginally Anna and Ivan were a ship because she couldn't fight her genes or whatever that's been erased actually I decided it'd be more interesting of she was a lesbian. ivan and her are still rivals. She doesn't know she's a lesbian yet tho cause comphet she's also Topher stepsister!! Basically they hate hate each other at first for obvious reasons and Topher even blackmails Anna. Then he does reveal who he's a clone of and she full on ignores him and calls him disgusting for like a week. But eventually they talk and they become a little closer? Anna starts understanding people aren't just their clone parents and she still like trying I guess? Topher also learns to not blackmail her so yay They have some solidarity, a little. They still don't like each other but its more in a sibling way.

Okay now Fyodor. Gonna guess no-one(but like one person) knows who Fyodor Basmanov is. I learned about him through some movies, basically Ivan the terrible had this alleged male lover. He was in the Oprichnina, like a secret police Ivan had made, and he rose in ranks fast. He was known as the favorite of the Tsar many people thought they were a thing(probably). There was rumors he'd wear skirts and dance for Ivan and stuff. Whether or not that's true in the Ivan the terrible movies he's in they actually do address it. In the 1940s two part one he sings this song abt killing people in a dress and a mask that is supposed to resemble Anastasia Romanovna in the beginning of the film. Which is actually why I made them do a clothing swap in the post. In the 1991 version he is sooo pretty and I can't understand everything in the film because no subtitles but I was able to get some context to what was happening. The story from what I know goes Fyodors the favorite and he uses that alot over other people, he sits next to the Tsar during meals and stuff, poisons people for him etc, then he tries to trick this other guy to get rid of him with witchcraft but word got back to Ivan and now they think Fyodor committed treason. So hes like no not me!!come on Ivan listen to me I'll tell everyone about us or something like that I don't know I could only understand some and he's dragged away. Real Fyodor apparently did get accused of treason by Ivan and he was ordered to kill his father. Some say then Fyodor was executed others say he was just sent away I don't know what really happened. Shrugs. Anyway

I made a clone of him just because I can ❤yay❤ he's Ivans ex friend they don't hang out anymore because Ivan thinks he's better than him. Fyodors just a chronically online guy that uses discord too much(gamer). He wears skirts too not for Ivan just cause I like gnc characters. Yay❤. Also Ivan and him weren't a thing though Fyodor probably does have a crush on him for a bit, the most Ivan does for him is buy him discord nitro. Which he doesnt do anymore. Fyodor does still sometimes try be friends with the bleacher creatures mainly cause sometimes he feels like he's nothing without Ivan so. Yeah. He's unsuccessful tho he's annoying af. He's cringe. He thinks it's funny tho

Anyway just realized I made three clones of Ivan the terrible lovers and I don't ship any of them with him(Maria's the third ill post about her another day. Her and Anna get together tho) this guy had like eight wives. I should really just clone all of them and make them a polycule(minus Ivan ofc) this is why I shouldn't study historical figures

[vonlipvig]

I finished reading Conclave (the novel) and I loved it – you're right about it being a perfect adaptation. Most of the changes made do make sense – yes, Lomeli and Bellini are supposed to be Italian, but also uhhh…you want to get Ralph Fiennes and Stanley Tucci in your movie. (It is funny that Bellini is from the US in the movie, when it's so significant that he's Italian in the book – especially since the big thing that the Canadian Tremblay had going for him was that he was North American without being “American.”) I also appreciate how the book just fleshed out the story more – like, it made sense that Benitez had support from his fellow Filipino cardinals going in. And how we learned more about Sister Shanumi! I have so much to say about Shanumi, I should just make a post about her. But anyway, I'm so glad you got me interested in this awesome movie, it's just an absolute delight! (I mean, you generally have fantastic taste, so I'm not surprised)

it really is such a good, entertaining book, and isn't the movie a near flawless adaptation? like, maybe it's because i watched it first before reading (cause god knowssss i can be so annoying about my fav books being adapted to the big screen), but i thought they did a fantastic job of telling the story as faithfully as possible, and using the visual medium to its advantage.

yeah, i think the nationality changes from book to movie totally make sense and are a small price to pay for such a skilled cast (thinking about it from a business perspective, of course the italian lomeli had to be switched to an english-speaking lawrence cause you want a Well Known Actor to bring in the Money and Audience, but like...we got ralph fiennes, is anyone gonna object to that?! and then with benitez being mexican now, i just think they found carlos diehz and were like "bro that's it. that's literally him holy shit", and yeah. that's literally him).

i do enjoy the book a lot as well, though. like you said, it has a lot more liberty to go into more detail (also, totally canonically bi lomeli YAY) but as someone who loves both reading and watching movies, having both a fantastic book i can reread AND a banging movie i can rewatch is like heaven!

[secret-third-thing]

17! tell me everything 👀

God fears me for my process is fucking biblical.

Also link to post if people want to play <3

Please note this is for fanfic. My original fiction process has EVEN MORE STEPS AHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA.

Step 1: Be absolutely overwhelmed with an idea. I know an idea is worth writing when it pesters me enough that it intrudes when I'm doing other things or writing other stories. If it doesn't, I send it to the plot bunny graveyard. Get fucked.

Step 2: Let it cook. That's right. Every idea has to cook a little bit. It decides when it's time for plotting. Sometimes it's an immediate plotting situation, sometimes it cooks for a year or two.

Step 3: Write down some key points. What do I wanna have happen? This is to help me figure out scope. I am much better at looking at an idea and sussing out how long it's gonna be. I categorize it into one of the following categories

Baby (under 3k)

Big Baby (3-5k)

Solid Oneshot (5-10k)

We're pretending this is a one shot (10-17k)

Normal Mult-chap (17k-50k)

Danger zone (50-80k)

Chonky Monster (80k+)

Absolute Unit (150k+)*

Someone help me I've fallen (200+)*

*my pet peeve is fics that go on forever when they should have just ended. YOU NEED TO PLOT BETTER. jk it's fanfic do whatever you want.

This step is done partially for fun and partially because it helps me figure out how many beats and scenes I need.

Step 4: I decide on a target word count (I'm good at guessing. I'm usually within 15% of my est wc when I finish) and then I fill out my math sheet that I made while I was bored and unemployed last year. It basically estimates how many scenes I need assuming scenes average at 1200-1500. And then it divides those scenes into acts and then it tells me how many scenes per point in the save the cat outline. 😂 If people want it they have to slide into my dms and ask me nicely + compliment eris and/or beron. Ideally both.

Step 5: Time to fill out the main beats of the outline! Yay! This takes X days, which is to say it takes the time it needs.

Step 5b: If I have multi povs, I do this process for every pov

Step 5c: Then I weave the povs together - which beats can be shared? etc

Step 6: Write out every scene I plan on writing 🫡 I know exactly what's happening and the intended outcome. Yay!

Step 7: Work on something else. This story needs to cook a bit.

Step 8: Come back and see how I feel about the story. Then I do this scene analysis thing where I ensure that my scenes are covering different elements of craft so we are as efficient as possible. If a scene does not accomplish a goal, I yeet it. This is KEY. I'm not gonna type it all out here partially because it's long/complicated and partially cause the mentor who taught me it, asked me to keep it vague since she's worked hard to cultivate her mentorship guidance and process.

Step 9: I make scene tweaks. If my outline has gaps, I cry about it and then radically accept it'll come to me later.

Step 9b: Sometimes I shop the outline around and make revisions based on feedback.

Step 10: Draft. But only when I want to. I don't brute force shit anymore. (I've been writing the full fic first before posting this time around) But yes. Write the full damn first draft. This takes however long it takes.

Step 11: Set it aside and do anything else, ideally not writing related. Watch movies, play games, go to an art museum.

Step 12: Revision time!!! YAY! Read through the entire fic. Write down allllll my horrible little thoughts about it. teehee.

Step 13: Re-outline. Really see what the story actually is. Decide if I need to rewrite anything.

Step 13b: do any necessary rewrites. cry about it1!!

Step 14: Revise POV/ Voice

Step 15: Revise Character

Step 16: Revise Plot again if needed

Step 17: Scene level edits (world building, descriptions, dialogue, details whatever)

Step 18: Now it's time for beta!!! Please cry clap. Depending on the posting situation (event week vs whenever) I may just do one chapter instead of the full fic.

Step 19: NOW do the edits! Again!

Step 19b: Send to betas again for feedback. Edit again. Repeat indefinitely.

Step 20: Grammar pass!!!

Step 21: Beta pass 2 (usually just a sign off that im not insane)

Step 22: Dark Night of the Soul. I grieve. I wonder if this is any good. And then by the end of brooding, I'm feeling a little evil.

Step 23: Post and give very little shits about kudos etc because they mean nothing and I know I'm fucking awesome. (you are too btw.)

Step 24: Kill God.*

Step 25: Become God.*

*Sorry these last two steps are for me only.

Hope this helps!

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #4

... Angela has orange eyes. Interesting... It's a good thing that 8 years ago, I didn't set up my entire magical society to be obsessed with natural orange features like hair because it's the rarest color in the magical world, ahahaha...

Cosmo hung a picture of himself on their wall.

SHE HAS A CREATURE-HUNTER FOR A DAD? Oh no, oh no, oh no... Someone call Doombringer, Crocker, and Ed Leadly- They've got a new friend!

He didn't react to Cosmo and Wanda describing the features Crocker always names as fairy traits (wands, wings, floating crowns), so he probably doesn't know Crocker.

She's so cute...

Okay, I love that Cosmo and Wanda walk backwards while bouncing. They are still not used to being human.

CRYING, Wanda literally noped out with a farewell of "We probably won't be seeing you much." That is a woman who is not willing to get dragged out of retirement and back into creature-hunting threats. I'm very curious as to how they end up with Hazel.

Hey, Hazel's indoor rug is even cooler than the one in the hall.

POV, you usually would fly across the hall but you don't have your wings out right now.

She vaporized the door, doors are STILL for chumps!!

AND WE GET CEILING LIGHTS? They thought of everything!

... Enrichment Academy? Interesting...

Okay, I love how the building design, the hills, and Hazel's schoolmates still totally belong in FOP style:

Hey, that's the guy from the story bible preview! He's getting the skateboard noises; that's cute.

And baby, we're SO back!

Cosmo and Wanda think they slick:

Hazel introducing herself to the class as "liking french fries" is a mood.

"I have an older brother! He's my best friend. He's visiting today and it will totally make up for the fact that no one laughed at my rock joke." - Girl, you are dying inside.

(He's not gonna show and that's what'll push C and W into taking her in... isn't it?)

Oh, they have swirls on their ears like the OG style! Nice. Also, I love the thin, stretchy arms and tiny legs... This is nice.

Oh no.

Yeah, this kid looks stable. Please tell me he doesn't have orange hair. Haha, I'm in danger.

HE'S DALE'S KID??? Lemonade Dungeon Boy got himself a partner? Mr. Only Shows Up In One Episode unless he's the pixie godkid implied by Da Rules' page about pixies in the Musical but he's probably not, he's just always been my leading theory and it was in Season 2?

Ohhh, boy; writers did their homework. I support him and what I can only assume are well-adjusted social skills. And yay, that gives us a timeline.

If this kid were an animal, I don't think I'd let him eat out of my hand. He's ready for collateral damage.

Hazel has been so nice to everyone, not even outing Cosmo and Wanda to her dad, and she's already ready to yeet this kid into the trash because he's not good enough to recycle.

omg, we're getting introduced to the background characters? Yesssss...

Okay, I'm cracking up at Dev introducing the ASMR guy (Whisper) as "gives me the creeps, but I respect the hustle." I'm intrigued.

Whisper was my alt name for Whistle, so I'm glad I went with the latter!

I am saving every poster I ever see.

Love how we're getting to tour more of the building. We've got stairs! And mailboxes! ... Also, Cosmo and Wanda were not her bubble charms in disguise, but that's definitely where they're going.

I like how Hazel's parents did immediate damage control when she started reacting and made sure she was expressing a healthy response in front of Antony.

I'm obsessed with Hazel. She reminds me so much of Chloe. "Running away! Not in a bad way like on TV, but in a good way! 'cuz it's me and I know what I'm doing!" They would be friends. I wonder if we'll get to see adult Chloe.

omfg, Cosmo and Wanda saw "Child running away" and they're IMMEDIATELY gunning for this child. Sir/Ma'am, please get your minds retuned for this century. Do not steal the child.

SLDKJFSDF compilation of past episodes where Cosmo has gone to space after he says he wants to go to space. Looks like the "Spaced Out" saga AND - and I am shook -

THAT'S "TERRIBLE TWOSOME," Season 9! When he's reading jokes to Poof so he'll stop blocking the sun!

Sir/ma'am, where is your paperwork to take this child?

I'm glad I got a heads up that the writers confirmed the bus driver isn't actually Timmy; I can see how that would be confusing.

Stopping here so I can do a thing with my parents. Will return later!

[skelet0n-f4ngs]

yay finally posting some writing

fluff

it may be pretty chaotic in most parts because i was mainly writting it when i couldnt sleep at some weird hours

she/her morro

"my fucking god, i cant. im literally so, so, so damn lucky. theres no way you unironically wanted to date me"

"youre drunk, i know." morro couldnt help but smile a little. getting flooded with compliments and all of these nice words, was the adorable side of trying to get her girlfriend off the couch and make her finally go to sleep.

she looked at the clock on the phone screen. 4am would be a great time to end that horror movie night... or if it continues like this, it would turn into a horror movie all-nighter.

"i kinda want to kiss you" skylor mumbled while tracing her girlfriend's tattoos with fingers and lovestruck smile on her face "but i dont wanna mess up your makeup...!"

"sunshine...it is already so fucked up. come on, my face and neck are literally covered in your lipstick. you can kiss me how many times you want" she said quietly with small smile playing with hoodie string. "i love you and all, but can we go sleep now? please? i swear, if i'd watch 'scream' one more time i would turn into the ghostface myself"

she didn't answer. instead she hugged morro from behind and buried her face in the back of her neck.

"so, that means no? alright... well, at least i hope you're comfortable" then she felt slight pain near shoulder, that made chills run down her spine. "ow fuck! did you... did you just bite me?"

"maybe..." skylor replied in a soft, a little flirty sounding voice.

"you know i'm gonna have bruises out of this, right? i don't mind you doing it, but please be gentle. okay?" the only sign that she understood was quiet "mhm. yea" followed by more nibbles mixed with soft kisses.

her hair kinda tickled morro's skin. because of the size of the couch, cuddling was a bit nessesary for two people to fit there, the slight chill in the room was unnoticeable. but that was a good thing. both of them finded comfort in physical touch, especially if that includes hugs.

<×××>

morro got woken up by some dogs' barking outside. while trying to get up, she also woke up her girlfriend.

"aww come on... don't go!" skylor whispered, still half asleep and yawning wrapped her arms around morro's waist "i'm gonna be cold! sweetheart please..."

"if i promise to make you coffee, will you let me go? then i'll go back and we can lay there snuggled for another few hours. it's okay?"

"would you be mad for me if i'd say no...?"

"what? obviously no, why would you even think of that" morro let out a quiet laugh feeling the comforting weight of another body against hers. especially with a few kisses. "how do you feel about watching someting that's not horror, hm?

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

My memory is terrible so I wanted to do a breakdown of my stuff every once in a while. Might be monthly, might be whenever I feel like it.

BL - Currently Watching

7 Days Before Valentine [11/12] - Unlike some other shows, this one is actually getting better towards the end. I appreciate that Sunshine did some self reflection and became a better human being and I really enjoy the visuals here. Also, 7 days before valentine we will watch the finale, so that's neat.

Cherry Magic Th [7/12]– I like what the thai version is doing with the source material, I think they are being really smart and I'm so happy I got to watch the shopping date and the helicopter ride that were missing from the japanese live action.

Cherry Magic Anime [4/12]– I'm enjoying all the parallels way too much. Part of me wishes that it had stayed closer to the manga but since I get that also from Thailand, I can't complain.

Cooking Crush [9/12]– My expectations weren’t as low as maybe other people because I'm a OffGun fan but I am enjoying this show way more than I thought. It’s so refreshing to see good communication and well rounded characters that are given the space to work stuff out and be honest with each other. I feel for Samsee, cause, been there.

Dead Friend Forever [6/12]– this show continues to surprise me every week. I’m a big horror and slasher fan so for the premise alone I was gonna watch it. But I’m liking the way they chose to structure this story, moving from the slasher bit to the past at that moment was really smart. The visuals are so strong in this and I’m enjoying the communal murdering impulses towards the original friend group.

Ossan's Love Returns [3/12] - It’s chaos but the kind that only Japan can get away with for me. That season opener alone would’ve made me stop watching if it wasn’t for that. But the thing about these characters for me is that they get to be this ridiculous because it’s all grounded in such heart and kindness towards each other. It's a balancing act that only Japan can deliver at this level.

Playboyy [10/14] – I applaud the effort to make something new and out of the bl box, I think the show is trying to talk about interesting things and there are moments where the visuals are very strong. However, the acting is the weakest part of the whole thing and so I cannot connect to the characters, which leaves the whole experience kinda empty for me.

Although I Love You, and You? [3/10]- Japan my beloved. What’s there to say? Sakae is my new favourite boy and I’m really enjoying these two bridging the gap in their personalities.

The Sign [10/12]– Phaya and Tharn are delightful. Yai is the bestest boy ever. But there’s too many loose threads considering we only have 2 episodes left. There’s still to much going on and the investigation part of it just seems too disconnected for me to care. I really hope they're not counting on a special or a second season to wrap this up.

BL - Finished

Last Twilight – No need to repeat myself. here and here

Love for Love's Sake - What a wonderful surprise this was. Yeo Woon is one of the most adorable characters of all time and I seriously cannot handle it. From the beginning there was always a cloud over the whole story and I think in the end it all came together really well, to give us a happy ending that feels earned. Also really appreciated the way the story dealt with the triangle. Most of the time I hate them with a passion so I was really happy that Sang Won didn't just disappear and stayed in the group and kept teasing Yeo Woon. And now I'm just suppose to move on?

Night Dream – I liked the beginning a lot, but, as it’s becoming increasingly frequent, it dipped as it approached the end and although I liked how it finished I wasn’t a fan of the path to get there. Time skip once again not used well.

Sahara Sensei to Toki-kun - I have not seen the finale yet but I didn't want to wait so I might update this post when I watch it. However, Toki is my favourite boy, and I just want him to be happy.

VIP Only – Cute but ultimately forgettable.

Rose Watches OJBL

So this month I started my journey into older jbl stuff in order to have a bigger understanding of the landscape and what came before. With the help of the amazing @twig-tea I've started this journey with 2 films: Ai no Kotodama (2008) - Such a wonderful way to start this adventure. Really enjoyed this film. Without spoiling it, I understand that the beginning of the film might turn some people off of it but I think it's actually really smart and purposeful. I would definitely recommend it.

No Touching At All (2014) - Also really enjoyed this one. The direction is really interesting I thought. I feel it's all very intentional and it reflects very well the characters state of mind.

And because Cherry Magic opened the anime gates I also watched:

Given (2019) - This is SO GOOD. This show rewired my brain. Just now I was listening to THE SONG and I got emotional again. Every once in a while I enter this mindset where I feel like nothing that I watch can surprise me anymore. Then I watched this show. My thoughts after watching can be found here.

Not BL - Watched this month

The Killing Vote Taxi Driver 2 Vigilante Fermat no Ryori

Well, that's it I guess. Now I have to go and make some Love for Love's Sake gifs because I just can't move on and need to live there a little longer. Speaking of gifs, I'm always happy to take gif requests so let me know.

💜💜💜

[laylawatermelon]

Y'all i just cracked the davinci code and idk if you're gonna like it.

As a Buddie fan devastated obviously, as a 9-1-1 fan devastated obviously and as a writer absolutely blown away by the finessing they just graced us with.

They literally found a way to make Eddie straight and by God they've done it successfully.

Lemme explain.

I was locked in when he was having the speech with Shannon and didn't get to deep in the emotions (heinous ik but I wanted to hear what he was feeling).

I did get some water wobbles in my chest but that's neither here nor there. I did scream horrifically at the cliffhanger of the show.

Guess the nun did scare the life out of her (and me!) after all! Heeh should've seen that coming honestly but I didn't think they'd go there.

So there's two things I think is gonna happen, one Eddie's gonna go on more straight woman dates (yay 😮‍💨) and Chris is leaving.

Now the second one I'll address first and don't bash me if it's not trueee.

I'll get the Chris one over with. First Gavin, Chris' actor, family moved. Since he's become a main he's had little to no screentime in the show.

What I think has happened in real life it's that Gavin will step away from the show. They have him main to show his importance in the cast and storyline (i can also guess pay raise but I'm not saying that's unreasonable really) before his send off.

Realistically he's a disabled person, a child/minor at that, who i assume has a lot of equipment and things he has to travel with. I can imagine it's not that easy to consistently travel across states with equipment, doctor's appointments, schoolwork etc.

So this is probably his last season for a while.

The birthday party (which can also double as a send off or until next time message) and the promotion/upgrade in role despite not being written as such or having storyline outside of the adults.

(off topic but I'd love a mini 118 hijinks b story with all the kids or a low stakes disaster where they all team up until the 118 get there)

He's been hypocritical to him about cheating and even tarnished his mom's legacy by bringing a fake version of her in his house.

The reason i can say the story can effectively write him off for the first half of next season is that Chris will go with his other family because he feels betrayed by his dad.

He doesn't feel safe anymore (😞😭 I'm making myself sad) so he opts to leave until his dad gets better.

The hospital scene is Eddie realizing what his kid needs isn't a new mom but to trust in his parents and that's now shattered (ooh this starting to feel personal be gone trauma!).

So he'll throw a tantrum (a rightfully deserved one that's my boy😤) and say in anger he doesn't want to be with his dad.

Buck will obviously be there cause yeah Eddie (delusional hubby) clearly needs help in his hour of need and so does Chris.

Eddie will do self isolation. Buck will be there for him (Tommy probably staying too but I'm neutral for this post) but with everything Eddie going through he's gonna be wrecked.

And because Eddie's a (good? Eh so so right now) dad he'll let Chris decide when he wants to return.

Hence the heartbreak.

Boom it solves the Gavin problem where he can probably stay during the summer so maybe mid season 8 or limited role like how they did this season and his family can focus on him/life.

Now the Straight Eddie!

By God he's done it!

You've pulled a real good one. Tim I salute you truly.

Idk how you made a straight man out of him but by his you've done it!

(so did you Ryan I'm watching you!)

Since buddie isn't on the table this season the platonic hasn't been more platonic-er since season 7 episode 1.

The way he did it was so easy and smooth I'm in awe.

This is how he kept and can probably enforce straight Eddie.

This is also how he can not enforce straight Eddie (haha got you).

The line you were the love of my life but I'm living it without you now stuck out to me.

That means he's going to find himself and what he really likes without a partner. Therapy, hobbies all that good ish. Maybe a few dates but def church.

Here's why.

Church has been something he drift away and let's be honest American tv and society is still founded in Christianity and all of its adjacent branches.

You must have God somewhere in there for the older audience to tune in/connect with of it's getting a lil secular (aka the bundle of lgbt characters. They're probably saying at least one of em knows God😮‍💨😮‍💨) /hj

The book of prayers symbolizes him going back to God to find answers about himself.

Anyways for the straight Eddie he can get closer to himself better in his faith and get a nice Christian girl who he matches with and (maybe) even has a kid/ similar background.

Since he's been to therapy and he's let go of the love of his life he's now free to find love in someone else. A new woman. (And truly this time)

(or a man, or they/them)

Yes my queer Eddie agenda rises!

Go FORTH!

BE ONE WITH THE SKITTLES SQUAD!

But seriously though the other way it can go is that he's discovering stuff about himself away from romance. He becomes more comfortable with religion but when confusing feelings (attraction to the same gender anyone for $10?) arise then he'll maybe start to fight his Catholic guilt about it since he's gotten closer to it.

Then he'll have to ask for for forgiveness but not permission for the live he wants to live.

(with buck in a house on the waves! Let me be delusional! I've kept it under wraps this long!)

But anyways they've truly dodged the lgbt fruity storyline.

They've also shown us that yes, Buddie was NOT platonic because I've never felt more friends energy in my life this season.

And what the AuDHD brain says is canon/not canon I vibe accordingly.

The vibes were low. Like a suspiciously low.

Dare I say subtextually low.

That's not happened in the history of buddie this is a code red!

CODE RED!

Okay I'm done btw hate me or whatever! /big J

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Ok, I am awake, have eaten breakfast, drunk my coffee, and now am sitting down to catch up on GMMTV 2025! From the excited chat I've seen in various places, I'm thinking this is gonna be good, but we'll see!

I'm just randomly clicking on the trailers, so no real order here.

Ticket to Heaven - Ooof, wow. What a start. Ok, I am super excited for GeminiFourth to be working on something more dramatic and adult, because I think they're going to do an incredible job. P'Aof did amazing work with them in Moonlight Chicken, so I think he's a great director to take them through such big lead roles. And this looks like a really powerful story. At the same time, I am someone who has experienced direct harm to my family from the Catholic church (abuse leading to someone taking their life), so even the trailer was very emotional and triggering for me. I will likely try to watch, but will have to be careful for my mental health.

Girls Rule - a lesbian Only Friends! Fabulous, I'm in. OF wasn't my favorite, but it was hella entertaining, and I am here for letting lesbians be messy too.

Do we need to start a counter for "uggggh branded pairs are going to ruin this" posts? Cuz I know they're coming. 😂

Only Friends: Dream On - Lolol, love that this is the one I come across next.

Holy shit! This cast!!! I am just reeling. Also, can we talk about Gawin & Joss being paired again? I love that Gawin has always been more random with his pairings, but at the same time this has to mean that they are totally fire together in My Golden Blood, right? If they're already getting paired for a new project?

Oh, the whiners are going to be so mad. But I love it. P'Aof being a senior director of content production is having a clear impact.

Me and Thee - More PondPhuwin, yay! And more PerthSanta, excellent! And they're not students!

Omg, a pseudo-dark Pond who is actually a huge dork. The plot of this isn't super amazing for me, it's a premise that's been done a lot, but as always, that PondPhuwin chemistry is always so damn good.

Whale Store - more GL, yay! MilkLove are having a busy 2025. The plot isn't super compelling for me, but I like that they are offering such different GLs next year, so we can have more options for what different people resonate with.

Cat for Cash - My babies. Something very different from Heart Killers, for sure. Lol, and of course they made Khaotung cry in the trailer. And Satang getting to do something a little different for him!

Um. Look I love FirstKhaotung. Of course I'm gonna watch it. Do I love the talking cats? Not really. Just not quite my jam. Hoping that's a minimally used part of the series. But the acting should be stellar.

MU-TE-LUV - Ok, I have to admit I was feeling incredibly confused until I realized it was an anthology. I can be slow sometimes. I do love a ton of the people appearing in this, so it could be fun.

Memoir of Rati - More GreatInn! I did expect this. Love that we're going historical. Ahhhhh, AouBoom!!!!

Oh, this one is going to hurt, and I am going to have to watch it.

That Summer - A lead for WinnySatang! Oh, yay, I'm happy for them. Ah, the good ole amnesia trope. But it's actually working for me here. And we get a proper love story with Mond! On paper this is one that shouldn't necessarily excite me, but the trailer sold me, I'm here for it.

A Dog and a Plane - TayNew era continues! I am already loving this. Lolol, New's boyfriend cheating with Poon, oh this is fabulous. Oh, are we getting MarcPoon enemies to lovers?!

100% immediately sold, give it to me now.

Boys in Love - Of course, gotta get at least one school series. Pretty standard fare, but a very cute and charismatic cast. And PoddPapang sides for us older fans! Though I am guessing it will be like the teacher romance in 23.5, so mostly crumbs sadly.

Love You Teacher - PerthSanta! Woot woot! And they're in adult jobs, yay. Oh, interesting that we're getting an established couple, that's so rare! Hmm, our teachers are a little bit kinky and I approve. Wait, we're getting two amnesia plots next year? I mean, I think Satang's character is faking it a bit? But still, this is funny to me.

Hmm, you know what? The plot is a little odd, but I feel like there could be a really sweet core here of what it really means to love someone and take care of them when they're having hard times. And honestly if anyone was going to be a believable child in an adult's body, Santa was a brilliant pick.

Dare You to Death - Ok, I literally just gasped. Am I getting a JoongDunk mystery/thriller!?!?! Lol, "so we can work better together, come live with me", very smooth Captain, very smooth. Wait... are we getting cheeky Joong back? I haven't seen him since 2 Moons 2!

I. am. so. fucking. in. Gimme gimme gimme.

Burnout Syndrome - Ooh, OffGun in a more mature series again! And P'Nuchy!!! I had her on my bingo card for last year, I've wanted her to come back to direct for so looooong! Oh, this makes me so happy. And Dew coming in to dip his toe into the BL waters. I am very intrigued by this one.

Wu - Hmmm, fortune teller and string of fate...interesting. I'm not familiar with SkyNani, but they seem cool. This might be a bromance? Which is fine with me. Just not a lot to go on quite yet.

My Magic Prophecy - JimmySea! Woot! Ok, this looks interesting. Having to go on the run together is always a good formula for romance. And I just really like these two.

Head 2 Head - Another SeaKeen series, good for them! I have to admit I didn't finish Only Boo, I was really enjoying them as leads but I just kinda lost interest in the story. Definitely a different dynamic here! And they're getting to be a bit more mature already. I'm mildly intrigued for this one.

Melody of Secrets - another thriller!!!! And it's a trippy one! ForceBook being adults!!! Oh my heart, I am so happy!

My Romance Scammer - there's Ohm! I knew GMMTV didn't bring him in just to bench him. Paired with another Fluke too, lol. The trailer was a bit all over the place, but I think I'll be into this one. And more JuniorMark is never a bad thing.

I Love "a Lot of" You - I do love Nanon, but it's het, and historically multiple personalities haven't been super well handled in media. So just meh.

The Love of Siam - just a tease for this, so not sure what the end product will look like. But I do love musicals, and would love to see a Thai one.

Holy shit, there was so much stuff here! It's definitely ambitious of GMMTV to try and do all this for 2025, but I'm not stressed about it, I'm just happy to get what I get. And it's so incredibly queer overall! Which makes sense based on what we can see of the viewing metrics.

I do hope the people who were dismissing P'Aof in their fears around bromance taking dominance are able to acknowledge that he's doing some really good and important work here, however you feel about the individual story choices.

I love that this feels like it might be the year GMMTV grows up a bit. Their actors are getting older, and the audience who first came in 4 or 5 years ago are older now too.

No proper old man yaoi yet, but it's a step in the right direction!

And I love that we are doing so much more than plain romance. Give me all the BL thrillers!

Didn't get a ton on my bingo wish list, but I am still grateful and happy to be living in the era of this kind of content.